The Wall Between Part 21

"Afraid of yourself, eh?"

"No."

The monosyllable rang with scorn.

"Then prove it," sneered Ellen.

"Give it to me."

Smiling evilly, her aunt pushed the packet across the table. There was a leer of triumph in the sharp-featured face.

"I 'magine that 'twas gettin' as mad as you are now that kep' the Websters from ever buildin' up that wall," she called after her niece, as Lucy with crimson cheeks fled up the stairs, the long white envelope in her hand.

CHAPTER XI

THE CROSSING OF THE RUBICON

"I want you should go to the village to-day," announced Ellen, making her appearance in Lucy's room on a hot August morning a few weeks later.

"Tony's got to get the scythe mended an' have Dolly shod. Don't it beat all how somethin's always wearin' out? Long's he's goin', you might's well drive along with him an' take the eggs an' corn I promised Elias Barnes.

There's some more errands at the store I want done, too."

"All right, Aunt Ellen."

But the woman loitered.

"If you don't want to hang 'round town till Tony gets ready to come back, mebbe you could find somebody comin' this way who would give you a lift home. It seems sort of a shame to stay there wastin' the time you could be usin' here."

Lucy smiled at the characteristic remark.

"An' if you didn't happen on any one," went on Ellen, "likely you wouldn't mind walkin'; 'twould get you home quicker."

"No, indeed. I always like a walk."

"I reckon 'twill be warm."

"I don't mind."

"That's good."

Ellen was always gracious when her plans went to her satisfaction.

"I want you to be ready to start right after breakfast," she added, as she went out the door. "The earlier you get off the earlier you'll be back again. I wish I could go myself an' d.i.c.ker with Elias. I would if it warn't that I have to tinker with that pesky cream separator."

"Is the cream separator out of order?"

"Yes," said Ellen wearily. "Trust that Tony to bust everythin' he touches."

She closed Lucy's door with a spirited bang.

The girl listened to her retreating footsteps and smiled softly. It was nothing new for Ellen to be sending her to the village to transact the business she no longer felt able to attend to herself, but the subterfuges to which she resorted to conceal her real motive were amusing. Lucy knew well that to-day, if it had not been the cream separator, something else equally important would have furnished the excuse for keeping her aunt at home. It seemed so foolish not to be honest about the matter. To pursue any other method, however, would have been quite foreign to Ellen's policy, and therefore Lucy, although not blinded by these devices to hide the truth, always pretended she was, and earnestly condoned with the old woman about the rebellious potato sprayer, the obstinate pump, or whatever other offending object chanced to be selected as the plea for casting her cares on younger shoulders.

The trip to the village was tiresome; of that there was no doubt,--especially on a day that promised to be as hot as this one.

Already tremors of heat vibrated upward in waves from the piazza roof, and the sun's scorching rays pierced between the closed blinds. Nevertheless, Lucy did not regret the prospect of the morning's excursion. She so seldom had an opportunity to leave the house that any break in the monotony of her days, uncomfortable though it might be, was a welcome diversion.

Therefore she hurried her dressing and breakfast, and while dawn was still on the threshold, set off with Tony in the dust-covered surrey that creaked its way along behind the stumbling gray mare.

The coolness of night was over the awakening earth, although the mounting sun was speedily drinking up the dew and rousing the locusts into droning song. Not a leaf stirred. Through the s.h.i.+mmering atmosphere the valley, with its river yellow as a band of molten gold, lay listless in drowsy haze; but the birds, b.u.t.terflies, and bees flitted among the flowers that bordered the roadside with an alertness which proved that they, at least, felt no lessening of zest for their honey gathering.

"It's goin' to be an almighty hot day," observed Tony who, after slapping Dolly's broad back several times with the reins, had decided that further attempts to accelerate the mare's pace was useless.

"Yes, very hot."

"I hope your aunt won't go pullin' that separator all to pieces while we're gone," the boy grumbled. "In the first place she ain't got a notion of how to put it together again; an' in the next place she ain't fit to go liftin' an' haulin' things about the way she does. She's gettin' to be an old woman. Ain't she most eighty?"

"She's not far from it," answered Lucy.

"Well, if I was her age an' had her money, you wouldn't see me workin' as if a slave driver was standin' over me," the Portuguese lad declared.

"What good is it doin' her bein' rich, I'd like to know."

"Oh, I don't think she is rich," said Lucy quickly.

"Folks say she is; that's all I know 'bout it," replied Tony. "Elias Barnes was calculatin' one day down to the store that she must be worth thousands. I can believe it, too," added the boy significantly.

"Everything we've got on the farm is tied up with string, or hitched together with a sc.r.a.p of wire. Your aunt ain't fur gettin' a thing mended long's it can be made to hold together. 'Bout everything on the farm wants overhaulin'. I'd give a fortune to see a smart man come in here an' set the place to rights. There's a lot of truck in the barn oughter be heaved out an' burned. 'Tain't fit for nothin'. But Miss Webster would no more hear to partin' with one stick nor stone she owned than she'd cut off her head. She'd keep everything that belonged to her if it was dropping to bits."

The boy paused.

"Well, there's one good thing," he added, smiling, "she can't take the stuff she's h.o.a.rded with her into the next world, an' when it falls to you you can do as you like with it."

"Falls to me?"

"Why, yes. 'Course all your aunt's property'll be yours some day."

"What makes you think so?" Lucy asked, a suggestion of reserve in her tone.

"Who else is there to have it?" inquired Tony, opening his eyes very wide.

"Ain't she already left it to you in her will?"

"I don't know."

"You don't!"

Lucy laughed at his incredulousness.

"No."