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Was Autumn In The Mountains. The Air Was Balmy

And Crisp. The Landscape Was Gloriously Tinted By Late Wild Flowers

And The Colors Of Dying Leaves. A Far-Off Peak,  Catching The Rays Of

The Afternoon Sun,  Rose Above The Dun Valley Like A Mound Of Delicate

Coral Dropped From The Cloud-Mottled Blue Overhead.

 

A Stranger,  Walking From The Station At Ridgeville,  Was Nearing The

Front Gate Of Saunders's Home. He Moved With A Slow,  Thoughtful Step.

He Was Gray,  Even To The Whiteness Of Snow. His Skin Was Clear And

Pink,  His Eyes Were Bright And Alert. As He Opened The Gate He Became

Aware Of The Nearness Of Two Children Playing In A Vine-Clad Summer-

House On The Right Of The Graveled Walk. The Older Was A Handsome Boy

Of Four Years; His Companion Was A Pretty Little Girl Of Two,  Whom The

Boy Held By The Hand Quite With The Air Of Manly Guardianship.

 

"Now,  See How You Have Soiled Your Dress," The Boy Said,  Brushing The

Child's Lap With His Little Hand. "Mama Wouldn't Like That."

 

The Clicking Of The Gate-Latch Attracted The Glance Of The Children;

And They Stood Staring Curiously At The Man Who,  With An Introductory

Smile,  Was Drawing Near. He Bent Down And Shook Hands With Them Both,

First With The Little Girl And Lastly With The Boy.

 

"I Have Come To See Your Papa And Mama," He Said. "Are They At Home? I

Think They Are Expecting Me."

 

"They Are Down In The Meadow Getting Flowers," The Boy Answered. "They

Are Coming Right Back. You Can See Them From Here. Look,  There By The

Spring!"

 

The Stranger Followed The Direction Indicated By The Little Hand,  And

His Eyes Took On A Wistful Stare As They Fixed Upon A Couple Strolling

Across The Meadow,  Holding Flowers And Ferns In Their Hands. They

Walked Quite Close Together,  Those Two,  And The Distance Seemed To

Enfold Them With Conscious Tenderness.

 

"They Are Both Well,  I Believe?" The Man Said To The Boy,  As The More

Timid Little Girl Turned And Toddled Away.

 

"Yes,  Thank You," The Boy Answered,  In Words Which Sounded Stilted In

One So Young. "They Got Your Letter. I Heard Papa Say So. You Are Mr.

Mostyn,  A Very Old Friend Of Theirs. They Said I Must Love You And Be

Good While You Are Here,  Because You Have No Little Boy Yourself."

 

"Yes,  Yes,  That's True," Mostyn Answered,,  Taking The Child's Hand In

His. "Now You Know My Name,  You Must Tell Me Yours."

 

"Richard," The Child Said. "I Was Named For Your Little Boy That Died

And Went Up To God. Papa Used To Love Him Long,  Long Ago In Atlanta."

 

Part 2 Chapter 23 Pg 117

Mostyn Drew The Child Along By The Hand. The Delicate Throbbing Of The

Boy's Pulse Thrilled Him Through And Through. Steps Sounded In The

Hall Of The House,  And John Webb,  Not Any Older In Appearance Than

When Last Seen,  Crossed The Veranda And Came Slowly Down The Steps.

 

"Well,  Well,  Well!" He Cried. "Here You Are At Last. It Must Be A

Powerful Long Trip From Californy. The Folks Didn't Seem To Think

You'd Git Here Till In The Morning. They 'Lowed You'd Stop For A While

In Atlanta."

 

"I Finished My Visit There Sooner Than I Expected." Mostyn Shook The

Thick Damp Hand Warmly. "I've Been Living Out In The Open So Much Of

Late Years That Atlanta Seemed Stuffy And Crowded; Besides,  My Sister

Has Moved Away,  And I Have No Blood-Kin There. I Wanted To Get Into

The Country As Soon As I Could,  And This Seems Like Home In A Way."

 

"That's What Dolly And Jarvis Are Goin' To Try To Make It For You,"

Webb Went On. "Lord,  They Have Been Countin' On This For A Long Time!

Seems Like They Don't Talk Of Much Else. I Heard 'Em Say They Was

Goin' To Try To Break You Of Your Rovin' Habit. They've Got Your Room

Fixed Up To A Gnat's Heel. It Is The Best One In The House--Plenty Of

Air And Light. That's What They Are Out Pickin' Flowers And Evergreens

For Now. They Want It To Look Cheerful."

 

"It Is Very Kind Of Them,  I Am Sure," Mostyn Answered,  "But I Wouldn't

Like To Be In The Way Very Long."

 

"You Won't Be In Nobody's Way Here," Webb Declared. "If This Ain't An

Open House There Never Was One Of The Old-Time Sort Before The War.

Jarvis Runs The Place Like His Pa And Grandpa Did. You Never Saw The

Like O' Visitors In Summer-Time. They Pile In From All Directions,

Close An' Far Off. Every Friend That Comes Anywhere Nigh Has To Put Up

Here. Them Two Live Happy,  I Tell You,  If Ever A Pair Did. They've Got

'Em A Fine Home In Atlanta,  Where They Spend The Winter,  But They Both

Love This Best. Jarvis Is Writin' A Book About Mountain Flowers,  An'

Dolly Helps Him. They Travel About A Lot; They Take In New York Nearly

Every Year,  But Love To Get Back Home Where They Say They Can Be

Comfortable."

 

"And The Rest Of The Family?" Mostyn Said. "Your Sister And Drake,  How

Are They?" "Fine,  First Rate. Tom Still Bosses The Plantation. Jarvis

Tried To Git 'Im To Quit When He Married In The Family--Said He Didn't

Want His Daddy-In-Law Drawin' Pay By The Month--But Tom Had Got

Interested In The Work And Hung On. He's Turned Out To Be An A1

Manager,  I Tell You. He Knows What's What In Plantin',  An' Makes His

Men Move Like Clockwork From Sun-Up To Sun-Down."

 

"And George And His Wife?" Mostyn Inquired. "Are They Doing Well?"

 

"Fine,  Fine. Got Four Likely Children--Three Boys And A Girl Baby That

Gave 'Er First Yell Just A Month Ago. That Pair Has Struck A Lively

Lick Hatchin' 'Em Out,  But It Is Exactly What They Like--They Say They

Want Just As Many Crawlers Under Foot As They Can Step Over Without

Stumblin'."

Part 2 Chapter 23 Pg 118

 

"And You,  Yourself--" Mostyn Hesitated. "Have You--"

 

"Oh,  Me?" Webb's Freckled Face Reddened. "Not On Your Life. I'll Stay

Like I Am Till I'm Under Ground. Not Any Of It For Me. Other Folks Can

Do As They Like,  But Not Me--No Siree! I Reckon You Hain't Never"--

Webb Hesitated--"Married A Second Time?"

 

"No," Mostyn Answered. "I Am Still Quite Alone In The World."

 

Webb Glanced Toward The Meadow. "I'll Walk Down There And Let 'Em Know

You Are Here," He Said. "They Would Dilly-Dally Like That Till After

Dark,  An' Then Come Home Swingin' Hands An' Gigglin' An' Sayin' Fool

Things To Each Other. They Make Me Sick Sometimes. I Believe In Love,

You Understand--I Think Married Folks Ought To Love Each Other,  In The

Bounds O' Reason,  But This Mushy Business--Well,  It Ain't In My Line,

That's All!"

 

He Passed Through The Gate And Started Toward The Meadow. Mostyn

Leaned On The Fence. He Saw The Couple Again. They Were Standing Face

To Face Arranging The Flowers.

 

"I Don't Think I'd Disturb Them If I Were You," He Called After The

Bachelor. "There Is No Hurry."

 

"Oh,  They Would Want To Know You Are Here," Webb Answered Over His

Shoulder,  As He Strode Away. "They Will Come In A Trot When They Know

About It."

 

Presently Mostyn Felt A Small Hand Creep Into His. It Was The Little

Boy.

 

"Do You See Them?" The Child Inquired. "I Can't Look Over The Fence."

 

"Yes,  Let Me Hold You Up." Mostyn Lifted The Boy In His Arms. "Now,

Now Can You See?" He Asked,  The Words Sweeping From Him In Suddenly

Released Tenderness.

 

"Yes,  Yes; And They Are Coming. Let's Go To Meet Them. Will You?"

 

"Yes,  And You Must Let Me Carry You. You Know I Used To Love To Carry

My _Own_ Little Boy Like This--Just Like This."

 

The Child's Arm,  Already On Mostyn's Shoulder,  Slid Closer To His Neck

Till It Quite Encircled It. The Soft,  Warm Hand Touched Mostyn's Chin.

 

"Mama And Papa Said I Must Call You 'Uncle Dick," But You Are Not My

Really,  _Really_ Uncle,  Are You?"

 

"No,  But I Want To Be. Will You--Would You Mind Giving Your Old Uncle

A Hug With--With _Both_ Your Arms?"

 

The Boy Complied.

Part 2 Chapter 23 Pg 119

"There,  There!" Mostyn Said. "Once More--Tight--Tight! Hug Me Tight!"

 

The Child Obeyed. "Oo-Ooh!" He Cried,  As He Relaxed His Tense

Pressure.

 

"Thank You--Thank You!" Mostyn Kissed Him; Then He Was Silent.

 

With One Hand On Mostyn's Cheek The Boy Leaned Forward And Peered Into

His Face Curiously.

 

"Why--Why," He Faltered,  His Little Lips Puckered Sympathetically,

"What Is The Matter?"

 

 

 

Imprint

Publication Date: 05-20-2014

All Rights Reserved

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