Sons and Fathers, Page 3

  CHAPTER III.

  A BREATH FROM THE OLD SOUTH.

  The room in which Edward Morgan opened his eyes next morning was largeand the ceiling low. The posts of the bed ran up to within a foot of thelatter and supported a canopy. There was no carpet, the curtains were ofchintz and the lambrequins evidently home made. The few pictures on thewall were portraits, in frames made of pine cones, with clusters ofyoung cones at the corners. There were home-made brackets, full of swampgrasses. The bureau had two miniature Tuscan columns, between which washung a swivel glass. All was homely but clean and suggestive of awoman's presence. And through the open windows there floated a deliciousatmosphere, fresh, cool and odorous, with the bloom-breath of tree andshrub.

  He stepped out of bed and looked forth. For a mile ran the great fieldsof cotton and corn, with here and there a cabin and its curl of smoke. Aflock of pigeons were walking about the barn doors, and a number ofgoats waited at the side gate, which led into a broad back yard. In thedistance he could see negroes in the fields, hear their songs and the"clank" of a little grist-mill in the valley.

  But sweeping all other sounds from mind, he heard also another musicalvoice calling "Chick! chick! chickee, chickee!" and caught a glimpse offowls hurrying from every direction toward the back yard. He plunged hishead into a basin of cool water, and presently he was dressed.

  The front door was open, as it had remained all night, the chairs on theporch, with here and there books and papers, when Edward Morgan walkedout. The yard was spacious and full of plants. Sunflowers andpoke-berries were growing along the front fence, and mocking birds,cardinals and jays, their animosities suspended, were breakfasting sideby side. His walk carried him to the side of the house, and, lookingacross the low picket fence, he saw Mary. Her sleeves were rolled upabove the elbows and her arms covered with dough from a great pan intowhich, from time to time, she thrust a hand. A multitude of ducks,chickens, turkeys and guineas scrambled about her, and a dozen whitepigeons struggled for standing-room upon her shoulders.

  "May I come in?" he called.

  "If you can stand it, Mr. Morgan." There was not the slightestembarrassment; the brown eyes were frank and encouraging; he placed hishands upon the fence and leaped lightly over.

  "What a family you have!" he said. She smiled, turning her face to himas she scattered dough and gently pushed away the troublesome birds.

  "Many birds' mouths to fill; and they will have to fill some mouths too,one of these days, poor things."

  "That is but fair."

  "I suppose so; but what a mission in life--just to fill somebody'smouth."

  "The mission of many poor men and women I have seen," he said, "ismerely to fill mouths. And sometimes they get so poor they can't dothat."

  "And sometimes chickens get the same way," she said, sagely, at whichboth laughed outright. Her face resumed its placid expression almostinstantly. "It must be sad to be very poor; how I wish they couldarrange for all of the poor people to come out here and find homes;there seems to be so much land wasted."

  "They would not stay long anywhere away from the city," he said; "but doyou never sigh for city life?"

  "I prefer it," she replied, simply, "but we cannot afford it. And thereis no one to take care of this place. It is harder on Annie, brother'swife. She simply detests the country. When I graduated--"

  "You graduated!" he exclaimed, almost incredulously. She looked at himsurprised.

  "Yes, I am young, seventeen this month, but that is not extraordinary.Mamma graduated at the same age, sixteen, forty years ago." A servantapproached, spoon in hand.

  "Want some more lard, missy." She took her bunch of keys, and selectingone that looked like the bastile memento at Mount Vernon, unlocked thesmoke-house door and waited. "Half of that will do, Gincy," she said,not looking around as she talked with Morgan, and the woman returnedhalf.

  "Now," she continued to him, "I must go see about the milking."

  "I will go, too, if you do not object! This is all new and enjoyable."They came to where the women were at work. As they stood looking on, acalf came up and stood by the girl's side, letting her rub its sensitiveears. A little kid approached, too, and bleated.

  "Aunt Mollie," Mary asked, "has its mother come up yet?"

  "No, ma'am. Spec' somep'n done cotch her!"

  "See if he will drink some cow's milk--give me the cup." She offered hima little, and the hungry animal drank eagerly. "Let him stay in the yarduntil he gets large enough to feed himself." Then turning to Morgan,laughing, she said: "I expect you are hungry, too; I wonder why papadoes not come."

  "Is he up?"

  "Oh, yes; he goes about early in the morning--there he comes now!" Thesoldierly form of the old man was seen out among the pines. "Bring inbreakfast, Gincy," she called, and presently several negroes sped acrossthe yard, carrying smoking dishes into the cool basement dining-room.Then the bell rang.

  At the top of the stairway Morgan had an opportunity to better see hishostess. The lady was slender and moved with deliberation. Her gray hairwas brightened by eyes that seemed to swim with light and sympathy. Thedress was a black silk, old in fashion and texture, but there was reallace at the throat and wrists, and a little lace headdress. She smiledupon the young man and gave him her plump hand as he offered to assisther.

  "I hope you slept well," she said; "no ghosts! That part of the houseyou were in is said to be one hundred years old, and must be full ofmemories."

  They stood for grace, and then Mary took her place behind the coffee potand served the delicious beverage in thin cups of china. The mealconsisted of broiled chicken, hot, light biscuits, bread of cornmeal,and eggs that Morgan thought delicious, corn cakes, bacon and finebutter. A little darky behind an enormous apron, but barefooted, stoodby the coffee pot and with a great brush of the gorgeous peacockfeathers kept the few flies off the tiny caster in the middle of thetable, while his eyes followed the conversation around. Presently therewas a clatter on the stairs and the little boy came down and climbedinto his high chair. He was barefooted and evidently ready forbreakfast, as he took a biscuit and bit it. The colonel looked severelyat him.

  "Put your biscuit down," he said, quietly but sternly, "and wait outsidenow until the others are through. You came in after grace and you havenot said good-morning." The boy's countenance clouded and he began topick at his knife handle; the grandmother said, gently:

  "He'll not do it again, grandpa, and he is hungry, I know. Let him offthis time." Grandpa assumed a very severe expression as he replied,promptly:

  "Very well, madam; let him say grace and stay, under thosecircumstances." The company waited on him, he hesitated, swelled up asif about to cry and said, earnestly: "Gimme somep'n to eat, for theLord's sake, amen." Grandma smiled benignly, but Mary and grandpa wereconvulsed. Then other footfalls were heard on the stairs outside, as ifsome one were coming down by placing the same foot in front each time.Presently in walked a blue-eyed, golden-haired, barefooted girl ofthree, who went straight to the colonel and held up her arms. He liftedher and pressed the little cheek to his.

  "Ah," he said, "here comes the Duchess." He gave her a plate next tohis, and taking her fork she ate demurely, from time to time watchingMorgan.

  "Papa ain't up yet," volunteered the boy. "He told mamma to throw hisclothes in the creek as he wouldn't have any more use for them--ain'going to get up any more."

  "Mamma, does your eye hurt you?" said Mary, seeing the white hand forthe second time raised to her face.

  "A little. The same old pain."

  "Mamma," she explained to Morgan, "has lost the sight of one eye byneuralgia, tho you would never suspect it. She still suffers dreadfullyat times from the same trouble."

  Presently the elder lady excused herself, the daughter watching heranxiously as she slowly disappeared.

  It was nearly noon when Norton Montjoy and Edward Morgan reached the lawoffice of Ellison Eldridge. As they entered Morgan saw a clean-shavenman of frank, open expression. Norton spoke:
>
  "Judge, this is Mr. Edward Morgan--you have corresponded with him."Morgan felt the sudden penetrating look of the lawyer. Montjoy wasalready saying au revoir and hastening out, waving off Edward's thanksas he went.

  "Will see you later," he called back from the stairway, "and don'tforget your promise to the old folks."

  "You got my letter, Mr. Morgan? Please be seated."

  "Yes; three days since, in New York, through Fuller & Fuller. You have,I believe, the will of the late John Morgan."

  "A copy of it. The will is already probated." He went to his safe andreturned with a document and a bunch of keys. "Shall I read it to you?"

  "If you please."

  The lawyer read, after the usual recitation that begins such documents,as follows: "Do create, name and declare Edward Morgan of the city ofNew York my lawful heir to all property, real and personal, of which Imay die possessed. And I hereby name as executor of this my last willand testament, Ellison Eldridge of ---- state afore-said, relieving saidEllison Eldridge of bond as executor and giving him full power to windup my estate, pay all debts and settle with the heir as named, withoutthe order of or returns to any court, and for his services in thisconnection a lien of $10,000 in his favor is hereby created upon saidestate, to be paid in full when the residue of property is transferredto the said Edward Morgan," etc.

  "The property, aside from Ilexhurst, his late home," continued JudgeEldridge, "consists of $630,000 in government bonds. These I have in asafety-deposit company. I see the amount surprises you."

  "Yes," said the young man; "I am surprised by the amount." He gavehimself up to thought for a few moments.

  "The keys," said Eldridge, "he gave me a few days before his death,stating that they were for you only, and that the desk in his room athome, which they fitted, contained no property."

  "You knew Mr. Morgan well, I presume?" said the young man.

  "Yes, and no. I have seen him frequently for a great many years, but noman knew him intimately. He was eccentric, but a fine lawyer and a veryable man. One day he came in here to execute this will and left it withme. He referred to it again but once and that was when he came to bringyour address and photograph."

  "Was there--anything marked--or strange--in his life?"

  "Nothing beyond what I have outlined. He was a bachelor, and beyond anoccasional party to gentlemen in his house, when he spared no expense,and regular attendance upon the theater, he had few amusements. Heinherited some money; the balance he accumulated in his practice and byspeculation, I suppose. The amount is several times larger than Isuspected. His one great vice was drink. He would get on his sprees twoor three times a year, but always at home. There he would shut himselfup and drink until his housekeeper called in the doctors." Morgan waitedin silence; there was nothing else and he rose abruptly.

  "Judge, we will wind up this matter in a few days. Here are yourletters, and John Morgan's to me, and letters from Fuller & Fuller, whohave known me for many years and have acted as agents for both Col.Morgan and myself. If more proof is desired----"

  "These are sufficient. Your photograph is accurate. May I ask how youare related to Col. Morgan?"

  "Distantly only. The fact is I am almost as nearly alone in the world ashe was. I must have your advice touching other matters. I shall return,very likely, in the morning."

  Upon the street Edward Morgan walked as in a dream. Strange to say, theinformation imparted to him had been depressing. He called a carriage.

  "Take me out to John Morgan's," he said, briefly.

  "De colonel's done dead, sah!"

  "I know, but the house is still there, is it not?"

  The driver conveyed the rebuke to his bony horse, in the shape of asharp lash, and secured a reasonably fair gait. Once or twice heventured observations upon the character of the deceased.

  "Col. Morgan's never asked nobody 'how much' when dey drive 'im; he desfling down half er doller an' go long 'bout es business. Look to me,young marster, like you sorter got de Morgan's eye. Is you kinned to'im?"

  "I employed you to drive, not to talk," said Edward, sharply.

  "Dere now, dat's des what Col. Morgan say!"

  The negro gave vent to a little pacifying laugh and was silent. Theshadow on the young man's face was almost black when he got out of thehack in front of the Morgan house and tossed the old negro a dollar.

  "Oom-hoo!" said that worthy, significantly. "Oo-hoo! What I tole you?"