Chapter 17

David went back to Lafferton. The little maid informed him that the Judge and his wife were out for the evening; but there was always a room in readiness for him, so he sat alone by the window, staring into the lighted street, trying to comprehend that Janey was not for him.

It was late the next morning when he came downstairs.

"I am glad, David, you decided to stay here last night," said M'ri, whose eyes were full of a yearning solicitude.

She sat down at the table with him while he drank his coffee.

"David."

She spoke in a desperate tone, that caused him to glance keenly at her.

"If you have anything to tell," he said quietly, "it's a good plan to tell it at once."

"Since you have been away Joe and Janey have been together constantly. It seems to have been a case of mutual love. David, they are engaged."

"So," he said gravely, "I am to lose my little sister. Joe is a man in a thousand."

"But, David, I had set my heart on Janey's marrying you, from that very first day when you went to school together and you carried her books. Do you remember?"

"Yes," he replied whimsically, "but even then Joe met us and took her away from me. But I must drive out and congratulate them."

M'ri gazed after him in perplexity as he left the house.

"I wonder," she mused, "if I ever quite understood David!"

Miss Rhody called to David as he was passing her house and bade him come in.

"You've hed a hard trip," she said, with a keen glance into his tired, boyish eyes.

"Very hard, Miss Rhody."

"You have heard about Janey--and Joe?"

"Aunt M'ri just told me," he said, wincing ever so slightly.

"They was all sot on your being her sweetheart, except me and her--and Joe."

"Why not you, Miss Rhody?"

"You ain't never been in love with Janey--not the way you'll love some day. When I was sick last fall Almiry Green come over to read to me and she brung a book of poems. I never keered much for po'try, and Almiry, she didn't nuther, but she hed jest ketched Widower Pankey, and so she thought it was proper to be readin' po'try. She read somethin' about fust love bein' a primrose, and a-fallin' to make way fer the real rose, and I thought to myself: 'That's David. His feelin' fer Janey is jest a primrose.'"

David's eyes were inscrutable, but she continued:

"I knowed she hed allers fancied Joe sence she was a little tot and he give her them beads. When Joe's name was spoke she was allers shy-like. She wuz never shy-like with you."

"No," admitted David wearily, "but I must go on to the farm now, Miss Rhody. I will come in again soon."

When he came into the sitting room of the farmhouse, where he found Joe and Janey, the rare smile that comes with the sweetness of renunciation was on his lips. After he had congratulated them, he asked for Barnabas.

"He just started for the woods," said Joe. "I think he is on his way to Uncle Larimy's."

David hastened to overtake him, and soon caught sight of the bent figure walking slowly over the stubbled field.

"Uncle Barnabas!" he called.

Barnabas turned and waited.

"Did you see Janey and Joe?" he asked, looking keenly into the shadowed eyes.

"Yes; Aunt M'ri had told me."

"When?"

"This morning. Joe's a man after your own heart, Uncle Barnabas."

"It's you I wanted fer her," said the old man bluntly. "I never dreamt of its bein' enybody else. It's an orful disapp'intment to me, Dave. I'd ruther see you her man than to see you what I told you long ago I meant fer you to be."

"And I, too, Uncle Barnabas," said David, with slow earnestness, "would rather be your son than to be governor of this state!"

"You did care, then, David," said the old man sadly. "It don't seem to be much of a surprise to you."

"Uncle Barnabas, I will tell you something which I want no one else to know. I came back last evening and drove out here. I looked in the window, and saw her as she sat at work. It came into my heart to go in then and ask her to marry me, instead of waiting until after election as I had planned. Then Joe came in and she--went to him. I returned to Lafferton. It was daylight before I had it out with myself."

"Dave! I thought I knew you better than any of them. It's been a purty hard test, but you won't let it spile your life?"

"No, I won't, Uncle Barnabas. I owe it to you, if not to myself, to go straight ahead as you have mapped it out for me."

"Bless you, Dave! You're the right stuff!"