He Fell In Love With His Wife [105]
Beyond all power of expression, Alida felt her need of a champion and protector. She was capable of going away for his sake, but she would go in terror and despair. The words that had smitten her confirmed all her old fears of facing the world alone. Then came the overpowering thought of his loyalty and kindness, of his utter and almost fierce repugnance to the idea of her leaving him. In contrast with the man who had deceived and wronged her, Holcroft's course overwhelmed her very soul with a passion of grateful affection. A new emotion, unlike anything she had ever known, thrilled her heart and covered her face with blushes. "I could die for him!" she murmured.
She awoke late in the morning. When at last she entered the kitchen she stopped in deep chagrin, for Holcroft had almost completed preparations for breakfast. "Ha, ha!" he laughed, "turn about is fair play."
"Well," she sighed, "there's no use of making excuses now."
"There's no occasion for any. Did you ever see such a looking case as I am with this bandage around my head?"
"Does it pain you?" she asked sympathetically.
"Well, it does. It pains like thunder."
"The wound needs dressing again. Let me cleanse and bind it up."
"Yes, after breakfast."
"No, indeed; now. I couldn't eat my breakfast while you were suffering so."
"I'm more unfeeling then than you are, for I could."
She insisted on having her way, and then tore up her handkerchief to supply a soft linen bandage.
"You're extravagant, Alida," but she only shook her head.
"Famous! That feels better. What a touch you have! Now, if you had a broken head, my fingers would be like a pair of tongs."
She only shook her head and smiled.
"You're as bad as Jane used to be. She never said a word when she could shake or nod her meaning."
"I should think you would be glad, after having been half talked to death by her mother."
"As I said before, take your own way of doing things. It seems the right way after it is done."
A faint color came into her face, and she looked positively happy as she sat down to breakfast. "Are you sure your head feels better?" she asked.
"Yes, and you look a hundred per cent better. Well, I AM glad you had such a good sleep after all the hubbub."
"I didn't sleep till toward morning," she said, with downcast eyes.
"Pshaw! That's too bad. Well, no matter, you look like a different person from what you did when I first saw you. You've been growing younger every day."
Her face flushed like a girl's under his direct, admiring gaze, making her all the more pretty. She hastened to divert direct attention from herself by asking, "You haven't heard from anyone this morning?"
"No, but I guess the doctor has. Some of those fellows will have to keep shady for a while."
As they were finishing breakfast, Holcroft looked out of the open kitchen door and exclaimed, "By thunder! We're going to hear from some of them now. Here comes Mrs. Weeks, the mother of the fellow who hit me."
"Won't you please receive her in the parlor?"
"Yes, she won't stay long, you may be sure. I'm going to give that Weeks tribe one lesson and pay off the whole score."
He merely bowed coldly to Mrs. Weeks' salutation and offered her a chair. The poor woman took out her handkerchief and began to mop her eyes, but Holcroft was steeled against her, not so much on account of the wound inflicted by her son as for the reason that he saw in her an accomplice with her husband in the fraud of Mrs. Mumpson.
"I hope you're not badly hurt," she began.
"It might be worse."
"Oh, Mr. Holcroft!" she broke out sobbingly, "spare my son. It would kill me if you sent him to prison."
"He took the chance of killing me last night," was the cold reply. "What's far worse, he insulted my wife."
"Oh, Mr. Holcroft! He was young and foolish; he didn't realize--"
"Were you and your husband young and foolish," he interrupted bitterly, "when you gulled me into employing that crazy cousin of yours?"
This retort was so overwhelming that Mrs. Weeks
She awoke late in the morning. When at last she entered the kitchen she stopped in deep chagrin, for Holcroft had almost completed preparations for breakfast. "Ha, ha!" he laughed, "turn about is fair play."
"Well," she sighed, "there's no use of making excuses now."
"There's no occasion for any. Did you ever see such a looking case as I am with this bandage around my head?"
"Does it pain you?" she asked sympathetically.
"Well, it does. It pains like thunder."
"The wound needs dressing again. Let me cleanse and bind it up."
"Yes, after breakfast."
"No, indeed; now. I couldn't eat my breakfast while you were suffering so."
"I'm more unfeeling then than you are, for I could."
She insisted on having her way, and then tore up her handkerchief to supply a soft linen bandage.
"You're extravagant, Alida," but she only shook her head.
"Famous! That feels better. What a touch you have! Now, if you had a broken head, my fingers would be like a pair of tongs."
She only shook her head and smiled.
"You're as bad as Jane used to be. She never said a word when she could shake or nod her meaning."
"I should think you would be glad, after having been half talked to death by her mother."
"As I said before, take your own way of doing things. It seems the right way after it is done."
A faint color came into her face, and she looked positively happy as she sat down to breakfast. "Are you sure your head feels better?" she asked.
"Yes, and you look a hundred per cent better. Well, I AM glad you had such a good sleep after all the hubbub."
"I didn't sleep till toward morning," she said, with downcast eyes.
"Pshaw! That's too bad. Well, no matter, you look like a different person from what you did when I first saw you. You've been growing younger every day."
Her face flushed like a girl's under his direct, admiring gaze, making her all the more pretty. She hastened to divert direct attention from herself by asking, "You haven't heard from anyone this morning?"
"No, but I guess the doctor has. Some of those fellows will have to keep shady for a while."
As they were finishing breakfast, Holcroft looked out of the open kitchen door and exclaimed, "By thunder! We're going to hear from some of them now. Here comes Mrs. Weeks, the mother of the fellow who hit me."
"Won't you please receive her in the parlor?"
"Yes, she won't stay long, you may be sure. I'm going to give that Weeks tribe one lesson and pay off the whole score."
He merely bowed coldly to Mrs. Weeks' salutation and offered her a chair. The poor woman took out her handkerchief and began to mop her eyes, but Holcroft was steeled against her, not so much on account of the wound inflicted by her son as for the reason that he saw in her an accomplice with her husband in the fraud of Mrs. Mumpson.
"I hope you're not badly hurt," she began.
"It might be worse."
"Oh, Mr. Holcroft!" she broke out sobbingly, "spare my son. It would kill me if you sent him to prison."
"He took the chance of killing me last night," was the cold reply. "What's far worse, he insulted my wife."
"Oh, Mr. Holcroft! He was young and foolish; he didn't realize--"
"Were you and your husband young and foolish," he interrupted bitterly, "when you gulled me into employing that crazy cousin of yours?"
This retort was so overwhelming that Mrs. Weeks