Then his granddaughter Maria has gone an' mismarried a somebody, an' this boy that he'd set his heart on is goin' to the devil so precious fast that he ain't got time to look behind him.""Oh, he's young yet," suggested Tom Spade, solemnly wagging his head, "an' Fletcher says, you know, that he's all right so long as he keeps clear of Mr.Christopher.It's Mr.Christopher, he swears, that's been the ruin of him."Christopher met this with a sneer."Why does he let him dog my footsteps, then?" he inquired with a laugh."I never go to the Hall, and yet he's always after me.""Bless you, suh, it ain't any question of lettin' an' thar never has been sence the boy first put on breeches.Why, when I refused to sell him whisky at my sto', what did he do but begin smugglin'
it out from town! Fletcher found it out an' blew him sky-high, but in less than a month it was all goin' on agin.""An' the funny part is," said Jim Weatherby, "that you can't dislike Will Fletcher, however much you try.He's a kindhearted, jolly fellow, in spite of the devil.""Or in spite of Mr.Christopher," added Tom, with a guffaw.
Frowning heavily, Christopher turned toward the door.
"Oh, you ask Will Fletcher who is his best friend," he said, "and let me hear his answer."With an abrupt nod to Jacob, he went out of the tobacco barn and along the little path to the road.He had barely reached the gate, however, when Jim Weatherby ran after him with the horseshoes, and offered eagerly to come over in the morning and see that the gray mare was properly shod.
"I'm handy at that kind of thing, you know," he explained, with a blush.
"Well, if you don't mind, I wish you would come," Christopher replied, "but to save my life I can't see why you are so ready with other people's jobs."Then, taking the horseshoes, he opened the gate and started rapidly toward home.His mind was still absorbed by old Jacob's news, and upon reaching the house he was about to pass up to his room, when Cynthia called him from the little platform beyond the back door, and going out, he found her standing pale and tearful on the kitchen threshold.Looking beyond her, he saw that Lila and Tucker were in the room, and from the intense and resolute expression in the younger sister's face he judged that she was the central figure in what appeared to be a disturbing scene.
"Christopher, you can't imagine what has happened," Cynthia began in her beautiful, tragic voice."Lila went to church yesterday--with whom, do you suppose?"
Christopher thought for a moment.
"Not with Bill Fletcher?" he gave out at last.
"Come, come, now, it's a long ways better than that, you'll admit, Cynthia," broke in Tucker, with a peaceful intention."Ican't help reminding you, my dear, to be thankful that it wasn't so unlikely a person as Bill Fletcher."With a decisive gesture such as he had never believed her capable of, Lila came up to Christopher and stood facing him with beaming eyes.He had never before seen her so lovely, and he realised at the instant that it was this she had always needed to complete her beauty.From something merely white and warm and delicate she had become suddenly as radiant as a flame.
"I went with Jim Weatherby, Christopher," she said slowly, "and I'm not ashamed of it."The admission wrung a short groan from Cynthia, who stood twisting her gingham apron tightly about her fingers.
"Oh, Lila, who was his grandfather?" she cried."Well, there's this thing certain, she doesn't want to marry his grandfather,"put in Tucker, undaunted by the failure of his former attempts at peace-making."Not that I have anything against the old chap, for that matter; he was an honest, well-behaved old body, and used to mend my boots for me up to the day of his death.Jim gets his handy ways from him, I reckon."Cynthia turned upon him angrily.
"Uncle Tucker, you will drive me mad," she exclaimed, the tears starting to her lashes."It does seem to me that you, at least, might show some consideration for the family name.It's all we've left.""And it's a good enough relic in its way," returned Tucker amicably, "though if you are going to make a business of sacrificing yourself, for heaven's sake let it be for something bigger than a relic.A live neighbour is a much better thing to make sacrifices for than a dead grandfather.""I don't care one bit what his grandfather was or whether he ever had any or not!" cried Lila, in an outburst of indignation; "and more than that, I don't care what mine was, either.I am going to marry him--I am--I am! Don't look at me like that, Cynthia.Do you want to spoil my whole life?"Cynthia threw out her hands with a despairing grasp of the air, as if she were reaching for the broken remnants of the family pride."To marry a Weatherby!" she gasped."Oh, mother! mother!
Lila, is it possible that you can be so selfish?" But Lila had won her freedom too dearly to surrender it to an appeal.
"I want to be selfish," she said stubbornly."I have never been selfish in my life, and I want to see what it feels like.Oh, you are cruel, all of you, and you will break my heart."Christopher's face paled and grew stern.
"We must all think of mother's wishes, Lila," he said gravely.
For the first time the girl lost her high fortitude, and a babyish quiver shook her lips.Her glance wavered and fell, and with a pathetic gesture she turned from Christopher to Cynthia and from Cynthia to Tucker.
"Oh, you can't understand, Christopher!" she cried; "you have never been in love, nor has Cynthia.None of you can understand but Uncle Tucker!"She ran to him sobbing, and he, steadying himself on a single crutch, folded his arm about her.
"I understand, child, thank God," he said softly.
CHAPTER II.Between Christopher and Will An hour later Christopher was at work in the stable, when he heard a careless whistle outside, and Will Fletcher looked in at the open door.
"I say, Chris, take a turn off and come down to Tom Spade's," he urged.
