Hepsey Burke Part 21

Martin stared vacantly at Mrs. Burke, dropped his gla.s.s, and muttered incoherently. Then he bolted hastily from the place without paying for his drink.

Bingham was now getting a bit hysterical over the situation, and was about to make another vigorous protest, when Hiram Green entered and called for some beer. Again Hepsey extended her hand cordially, and Hiram jumped as if he had seen a ghost--for they had been friendly for years.

"Hepsey Burke, what in the name of all that's decent are you doin' in a place like this?" he demanded when he could get his breath. "Don't you know you'll ruin your reputation if you're seen sittin' in a saloon?"

"Oh, don't let that worry you, Hiram, My reputation'd freeze a stroke of lightnin'. You don't seem to be worryin' much about your own reputation."

"Oh well, a man can do a lot of things a woman can't, without losin'

his reputation."

For an instant the color flamed into Mrs. Burke's face as she retorted hotly:

"Yes, there's the whole business. A man can drink, and knock the seventh commandment into a c.o.c.ked hat; and then when he wants to settle down and get married he demands a wife as white as snow. If he gets drunk, it's a lark. If she gets drunk, it's a crime. But I didn't come here to preach or hold a revival, and as for my welfare and my reputation, Mr. Bingham and I was just havin' a pleasant afternoon together when you came in and interrupted us. He's awful nice when you get to know him real intimate. Now, Hiram, I hate to spoil your fun, and you do look a bit thirsty. Suppose you have a lemonade on me, if you're sure it won't go to your head. It isn't often that we get out like this together. Lemonades for two, Mr. Bingham; and make Hiram's real sweet."

Mrs. Burke enjoyed hugely the disgust and the grimaces with which Green swallowed the syrupy mixture. He then beat a hasty retreat down the street. For two hours Hepsey received all who were courageous enough to venture in, with most engaging smiles and cordial handshakes, until Silas was bordering on madness. Finally he emerged from the bar and mustered up sufficient courage to threaten:

"Mrs. Burke, if you don't quit, I'll send for the police," he bl.u.s.tered.

Hepsey gazed calmly at her victim and replied:

"I wouldn't, if I was in your place."

"Well then, I give you fair warning I'll put you out myself if you don't go peaceable in five minutes."

"No, Silas; you're wrong as usual. You can't put me out of here until I'm ready to go. I could wring you out like a mop, and drop you down a knot-hole, and n.o.body'd be the wiser."

The door now opened slowly and a small girl, miserably clad, entered the saloon. Her head was covered with a worn, soiled shawl. From underneath the shawl she produced a battered tin pail and placed it on the bar with the phlegmatic remark, "Pa wants a quart of beer."

Mrs. Burke looked at the girl and then at Bingham, and then back at the girl inquiringly.

"Are you in the habit of gettin' beer here, child?"

"Sure thing!" the girl replied, cheerfully.

"How old are you?"

"Ten, goin' on eleven."

"And you sell it to her?" Hepsey asked, turning to Bingham.

"Oh, it's for her father. He sends for it." He frowned at the child and she quickly disappeared, leaving the can behind her.

"Does he? But I thought you said that a saloon was no place for a woman; and surely it can't be a decent place for a girl under age. Now my friend, I've got somethin' to say to you."

"You are the very devil and all," Silas remarked.

"Thanks, Silas. The devil sticks to his job, anyway; and owin' to the likes of you he wins out, nine times out of ten. Now will you clear out of this location, or won't you?"

"Another day like this would send me to the lunatic asylum."

"Then I'll be around in the mornin' at six-thirty sharp."

"You just get out of here," he threatened.

"If you promise to clear out yourself within three days."

"I guess I'd clear out of Heaven itself to get rid of you."

"Very well; and if you are still here Sat.u.r.day afternoon, ten of us women will come and sit on your steps until you go. A woman can't vote whether you shall be allowed to entice her men-folk into a place like this, and at the very church door; but the average woman can be mighty disagreeable when she tries."

Silas Bingham had a good business head: he reckoned up the costs--and cleared out.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XVII

NOTICE TO QUIT

Before the year was over Mrs. Betty had become popular with Maxwell's paris.h.i.+oners through her unfailing good-nature, cordiality and persistent optimism. Even Mrs. Nolan, who lived down by the bridge, and made rag carpets, and suffered from chronic dyspepsia, remarked to Mrs. Burke that she thought the parson's wife was very nice "'cause she 'aint a bit better than any of the rest of us,"--which tribute to Mrs. Betty's tact made Mrs. Burke smile and look pleased. All the young men and girls of the parish simply adored her, and it was marvelous how she managed to keep in touch with all the guilds, do her own housework, and learn to know everyone intimately. Hepsey warned her that she was attempting to do too much.

"The best parson's wife," she said, "is the one who makes the rest work, while she attends to her own household, and keeps her health.

Her business is not to do the work of the parson, but to look after him, keep him well nourished, and cheer him up a little bit when he is tempted to take the next trolley for Timbuctoo."

The retort was so tempting that Mrs. Betty could not help saying:

"There's not a person in this town who does so much for others as you do, and who makes so little fuss about it. It's the force of your example that has led me astray, you see."

"Hm!" Hepsey replied. "I'm glad you called my attention to it. I shall try to break myself of the habit at once."

As for Maxwell, his practical helpfulness in forwarding the social life of the place, without in the least applying that phase of his activities as a lever for spiritual upheavals, and his ready sympathy for and interest in the needs and doings of young and old, irrespective of cla.s.s or caste, gradualy reaped for him the affection and respect of all sorts and conditions. In fact, the year had been a pleasant one for him, and was marred by only one circ.u.mstance, the continued and growing hostility of his Senior Warden, Mr. Bascom. From the first, he had been distinctly unfriendly towards his rector; but soon after Maxwell's marriage, his annoying opposition was quite open and p.r.o.nounced, and the weight of his personal influence was thrown against every move which Maxwell made towards the development of the parish life and work.

To those more "in the know" than the Maxwells themselves, it was evident that a certain keen aggressiveness evinced by the Senior Warden was foreign to his phlegmatic, brooding character, and it was clear to them that the actively malicious virus was being administered by the disappointed Virginia. That she was plotting punishment, in revenge for wounded _amour propre_, was clear to the initiated, who were apprehensive of the bomb she was evidently preparing to burst over the unconscious heads of the rector and his wife. But what could her scheme be?

Gradually Mrs. Burke noticed that Betty began to show fatigue and anxiety, and was losing the freshness of her delicate color; while Donald had become silent and reserved, and wore a worried look which was quite unnatural to him. Something was going wrong; of that she felt sure; but observant though she was, she failed to trace the trouble to its source.

Matters came to a crisis one day when Maxwell was informed that some one was waiting to see him in the parlor. The visitor was dressed in very p.r.o.nounced clothes, and carried himself with a self-a.s.sertive swagger. Maxwell had seen him in Bascom's office, and knew who was waiting for him long before he reached the parlor, by the odor of patchouli which penetrated to the hall.

"Good morning, Mr. Nelson," said Maxwell. "Did you wish to see me?"

"Yes, I did, Mr. Maxwell, and I am sure it is a great pleasure."

The man seated himself comfortably in a large chair, put the tips of his fingers together, and gazed about the room with an expression of pleased patronage.

"Very pretty home you have here," he remarked suavely.