Apron-Strings Part 18

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"She's out yodelin' somewheres, Mr. Hull," informed Tottie, filling the doorway inhospitably, but unconsciously.

Hull's face fell. "Well,--well, do you mind if I wait for her?" he asked.

"Oh, come in. Come in."

He came, with a stride that was plainly acquired in uniform. His cane hung smartly on his left arm. He carried his head high.

It was Tottie's conviction that he was the son of a n.o.bleman--perhaps even of a duke; and that he was undoubtedly an erstwhile officer in the King's service. She was respectful to Hull, even a little awe-struck in his presence. He had a way of looking past her when he spoke, of treating her as he might an orderly who was making a report. With him, she always adopted a certain throaty manner of speaking,--a deep, honey huskiness for which a well-known actress, who was a favorite of hers, was renowned, and which she had carefully practiced. How many times of a Sunday, cane in hand, had she seen him come down that street to her steps, wearing a silk hat. Sometimes for his sake alone she wished that she could dispense with that laundry.



"Then she didn't get my letter," said Hull.

"Can't say," answered Tottie, taking her eyes from the mantelpiece.

Hull spied the envelope. "No; here it is. You see, I didn't think I could follow it so soon."

Mrs. Colter had risen, and was struggling with her veil.

"Mrs. Colter, this is Miss Crosby's fy-an-see," introduced Tottie.

"And, Barbara, this is goin' to be your Uncle Felix."

Hull sat, and Barbara came to him, putting out a shy hand. "Ah! So this is the little niece!" he exclaimed. "Well! Well!--When did you come down, Mrs. Colter?"

"Left Poughkeepsie at six-thirty this mornin'. And now I must be runnin' along--to see if I can find that pickle fork."

Barbara had been studying the newcomer more frankly. Emboldened by his smile, she brought forward the nosegay. "See what I've got for Aunt Clare," she whispered.

Hull patted the crumpled blossoms. "You're a thoughtful little body,"

he declared. And as Mrs. Colter started out, "Could I trouble you, I wonder?" He got up. "I mean to say, will you buy something for the little niece?"

"Oh, ain't that nice of him!" cried Mrs. Colter, appealing to Tottie.

Hull was going into a pocket to cover his confusion at being praised.

"A--a pinafore, for instance," he suggested, "or a--a----"

"A coat," p.r.o.nounced Tottie. "Look at that one! It's fierce!"

With the grave air of a little old lady, Barbara interposed. "I need shoes worse," she declared. "See." She put out a foot.

"Yes, shoes," agreed Hull. He pressed a bill into Mrs. Colter's hand.

There were tears in her mild eyes. She did not trust herself to speak, but nodded, smiling, and hurried away. He sat again, and drew the child to him.

Tottie, leaned against the mantelpiece once more, observed the two with languid, but not unkindly, interest. "I wonder why the kid's father and mother don't do more for her," she hazarded.

Hull frowned. "It makes my blood boil when I think how that precious pair have loaded the child onto Miss Crosby," he answered.

"Pretty bony," agreed Tottie.

"And she's so brave about it--so uncomplaining. Why, any other girl would have put her niece into an orphanage."

The rooming-house keeper grinned. "Well, she did think of it," she said slyly. "But they turned her down. Y' see, Barbara--ain't a'

orphan."

Now Barbara lifted an eager face. "My mother's in Africa, and my father's in Africa," she boasted.

"Out o' sight, pettie, out o' mind."

Hull took one of the child's hands in both of his. "You've got a mighty fine auntie, little girl," he said with feeling. "Just the best auntie in the whole world."

Barbara nodded. "And I love her," she answered, "best of everybody 'cept my mother."

Tottie threw up both well-powdered arms. "Hear that!" she cried.

"Except her mother! And Clare says the kid ain't seen the mother since she was weaned!"

Hull shook his head. "Isn't it strange!" he mused; "--the difference between members of the same family! There's one sister, neglecting her own child--and a sweet child. And here's another sister, bearing the burden."

But Barbara was quick to the rescue of the absent parent under criticism. "Aunt Clare says that some day my mother's coming back from Africa," she protested. "And then I'm going to be with her all the time--every day."

"I s'pose the kid'll live with you and Clare when you marry," ventured Tottie.

"No. Clare doesn't want me to have the expense. Says it isn't fair.

But--I'll get in touch with that father."

Again the child interposed, recognizing the note of threatening.

"Maybe my father won't come with my mother," she declared. "Because he hunts lions."

Tottie laughed. "Well, he'd better cut out huntin' lions," she retorted, "and hunt you some duds." Then to Hull, "I wonder what they're up to, 'way out there. What is it about 'em that's so secret?"

"That's not my affair," reminded Hull, bluntly. He got up, dropping the child's hand.

Feeling herself dismissed, but scarcely knowing at what or whom this stranger was directing his ill-temper, Barbara retreated, and to the doll, sitting starkly upon the green chair. "Come on, Lolly-Poppins,"

she whispered tenderly, and taking the doll up in her arms, went back to the corner of the settee to rock and kiss it, to smooth and caress it with restless little hands.

Tottie sidled over to Hull, lowering her voice against the child's overhearing her. "Y' know what _I_ think?" she demanded.

"What?"

"I think the pair of 'em is in j-a-l-e,"--she spelled the word behind a guarding hand.

Hull ignored the a.s.sertion. "Where is Miss Crosby singing today?" he asked curtly.

Tottie went back to the hearth. "Search me," she declared. "It looks like your future bride, Mr. Hull, don't tell n.o.body nothin'. What's _your_ news?"

Barbara had settled down, Lolly-Poppins in the clasp of both arms. She crooned to the doll, her eyes closed.

"Oh, I haven't any," answered Hull. Then more cordially, "But I got a raise today."

"Grand! The Northrups, ain't it?"

"Chemists," said Hull, going to look out of the window.

Apron-Strings Part 18

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Apron-Strings Part 18 summary

You're reading Apron-Strings Part 18. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Eleanor Gates already has 532 views.

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