An Encore, Page 2

hanging window-curtains, her mouth full of tacks, shookher head. Then she removed the tacks and came to the front door.

  "Do you smoke, sir?"

  Captain Price removed his pipe from his mouth and looked at it. "Why! Ibelieve I do, sometimes," he said.

  "I inquired," said Miss North, smiling tremulously, her hands grippedhard together, "because, if you do, I will ask you to desist whenpassing our windows."

  Captain Price was so dumfounded that for a moment words failed him. Thenhe said, meekly, "Does your mother object to tobacco smoke, ma'am?"

  "It is injurious to all ladies' throats," Miss North explained, hervoice quivering and determined.

  "Does your mother resemble you, madam?" said Captain Price, slowly.

  "Oh no! my mother is pretty. She has my eyes, but that's all."

  "I didn't mean in looks," said the old man; "she did not look in theleast like you; not in the least! I mean in her views?"

  "Her views? I don't think my mother has any particular views," MissNorth answered, hesitatingly; "I spare her all thought," she ended, andher thin face bloomed suddenly with love.

  Old Chester rocked with the Captain's report of his call; and Mrs. Cyrustold her husband that she only wished this lady would stop his father'ssmoking.

  "Just look at his ashes," said Gussie; "I put saucers round everywhereto catch 'em, but he shakes 'em off anywhere--right on the carpet! Andif you say anything, he just says, 'Oh, they'll keep the moths away!' Iworry so for fear he'll set the house on fire."

  Mrs. Cyrus was so moved by Miss North's active mission-work that thevery next day she wandered across the street to call. "I hope I'm notinterrupting you," she began, "but I thought I'd just--"

  "Yes; you are," said Miss North; "but never mind; stay, if you want to."She tried to smile, but she looked at the duster which she had put downupon Mrs. Cyrus's entrance.

  Gussie wavered as to whether to take offence, but decided not to--atleast not until she could make the remark which was buzzing in her smallmind. It seemed strange, she said, that Mrs. North should come, not onlyto Old Chester, but right across the street from Captain Price!

  "Why?" said Mary North, briefly.

  "_Why?_" said Mrs. Cyrus, with faint animation. "Gracious! is itpossible that you don't know about your mother and my father-in-law?"

  "Your father-in-law?--my mother?"

  "Why, you know," said Mrs. Cyrus, with her light cackle, "your motherwas a little romantic when she was young. No doubt she has conquered itby this time. But she tried to elope with my father-in-law."

  "What!"

  "Oh, bygones should be bygones," Mrs. Cyrus said, soothingly; "forgiveand forget, you know. I have no doubt she is perfectly--well, perfectlycorrect, now. If there's anything I can do to assist you, ma'am, I'llsend my husband over"; and then she lounged away, leaving poor MaryNorth silent with indignation. But that night at tea Gussie said thatshe thought strong-minded ladies were very unladylike; "they say she'sstrong-minded," she added, languidly.

  "Lady!" said the Captain. "She's a man-o'-war's-man in petticoats."

  Gussie giggled.

  "She's as flat as a lath," the Captain declared; "if it hadn't been forher face, I wouldn't have known whether she was coming bow or stern on."

  "I think," said Mrs. Cyrus, "that that woman has some motive in bringingher mother back here; and _right across the street_, too!"

  "What motive?" said Cyrus, mildly curious.

  But Augusta waited for conjugal privacy to explain herself: "Cyrus, Iworry so, because I'm sure that woman thinks she can catch your fatheragain. Oh, just listen to that harmonicon down-stairs! It sets my teethon edge!"

  Then Cyrus, the silent, servile first mate, broke out: "Gussie, you're afool!"

  And Augusta cried all night, and showed herself at the breakfast-tablelantern-jawed and sunken-eyed; and her father-in-law judged it wise tosprinkle his cigar ashes behind the stable.

  * * * * *

  The day that Mrs. North arrived in Old Chester, Mrs. Cyrus commanded thesituation; she saw the daughter get out of the stage, and hurry into thehouse for a chair so that the mother might descend more easily. She alsosaw a little, white-haired old lady take that opportunity to leapnimbly, and quite unaided, from the swinging step.

  "Now, mother!" expostulated Mary North, chair in hand, and breathless,"you might have broken your limb! Here, take my arm."

  Meekly, after her moment of freedom, the little lady put her hand onthat gaunt arm, and tripped up the path and into the house, where, alas!Augusta Price lost sight of them. Yet even she, with all her disapprovalof strong-minded ladies, must have admired the tenderness of theman-o'-war's-man. Miss North put her mother into a big chair, andhurried to bring a dish of curds.

  "I'm not hungry," protested Mrs. North.

  "Never mind. It will do you good."

  With a sigh the little old lady ate the curds, looking about her withcurious eyes. "Why, we're right across the street from the old Pricehouse!" she said.

  "Did you know them, mother?" demanded Miss North.

  "Dear me, yes," said Mrs. North, twinkling; "why, I'd forgotten allabout it, but the eldest boy-- Now, what was his name? Al--something.Alfred--Albert; no, Alfred. He was a beau of mine."

  "Mother! I don't think it's refined to use such a word."

  "Well, he wanted me to elope with him," Mrs. North said, gayly; "if thatisn't being a beau, I don't know what is. I haven't thought of it foryears."

  "If you've finished your curds you must lie down," said Miss North.

  "Oh, I'll just look about--"

  "No; you are tired. You must lie down."

  "Who is that stout old gentleman going into the Price house?" Mrs. Northsaid, lingering at the window.

  "Oh, that's your Alfred Price," her daughter answered; and added, thatshe hoped her mother would be pleased with the house. "We have boardedso long, I think you'll enjoy a home of your own."

  "Indeed I shall!" cried Mrs. North, her eyes snapping with delight."Mary, I'll wash the breakfast dishes, as my mother used to do!"

  "Oh no," Mary North protested; "it would tire you. I mean to take everycare from your mind."

  "But," Mrs. North pleaded, "you have so much to do; and--"

  "Never mind about me," said the daughter, earnestly; "you are my firstconsideration."

  "I know it, my dear," said Mrs. North, meekly. And when Old Chester cameto make its call, one of the first things she said was that her Marywas such a good daughter. Miss North, her anxious face red withdetermination, bore out the assertion by constantly interrupting theconversation to bring a footstool, or shut a window, or put a shawl overher mother's knees. "My mother's limb troubles her," she explained tovisitors (in point of modesty, Mary North did not leave her mother a legto stand on); then she added, breathlessly, with her tremulous smile,that she wished they would please not talk too much. "Conversation tiresher," she explained. At which the little, pretty old lady opened andclosed her hands, and protested that she was not tired at all. But thecallers departed. As the door closed behind them, Mrs. North was readyto cry.

  "Now, Mary, really!" she began.

  "Mother, I don't care! I don't like to say a thing like that, thoughI'm sure I always try to speak politely. But it's the truth, and to saveyou I would tell the truth no matter how painful it was to do so."

  "But I enjoy seeing people, and--"

  "It is bad for you to be tired," Mary said, her thin face quiveringstill with the effort she had made; "and they sha'n't tire you while Iam here to protect you." And her protection never flagged. When CaptainPrice called, she asked him to please converse in a low tone, as noisewas bad for her mother. "He had been here a good while before I camein," she defended herself to Mrs. North, afterwards; "and I'm sure Ispoke politely."

  The fact was, the day the Captain came, Miss North was out. Her motherhad seen him pounding up the street, and hurrying to the door, calledout, gayly, in her little, old, piping voice, "Alfred--Alfred Pr
ice!"

  The Captain turned and looked at her. There was just one moment's pause;perhaps he tried to bridge the years, and to believe that it was Lettywho spoke to him--Letty, whom he had last seen that wintry night, paleand weeping, in the slender green sheath of a fur-trimmed pelisse. Ifso, he gave it up;