The Wall Between Part 33

"I don't know but I could. At least, I could try. Of course it's late in the season for them."

The lean finger continued to follow the flowered design of the bedcovering.

"There used to be some late ones up at the top of Pine Ridge," remarked the invalid casually. "That would be quite a walk though, an' likely further than you'd care to go."

"No, indeed it wouldn't!"

There was fervor in the protest. Already visions of a morning in the blue and gold world were shaping themselves in the girl's mind. No doubt Jane Howe would go with her; probably Martin would be too busy to leave his work; but if he were not, what a bit of Paradise they could have together!

Ellen, who read her niece's thoughts almost as readily as if they had been openly expressed, smiled a malevolent smile.

"It's a good four miles to the Ridge," she remarked. "Goin', comin', an'

pickin' would take you the whole mornin', I reckon."

"I'm afraid it would," agreed Lucy. "Could you spare me as long as that?"

"Yes. I don't need nothin'; an' if I do, Melviny can get it. I'd rather have you go than not. If you could get me enough berries for a shortcake it would be worth it."

The note of suppressed eagerness in the words caused Lucy to regard her aunt with quick, indefinable suspicion.

But Ellen met the glance unflinchingly, and with a baffled sense of being mistaken the girl hurried from the room. When she returned shortly afterward and paused in the doorway, she presented a winning picture.

She had donned a short khaki skirt and a pair of riding leggings such as she had been accustomed to wear in the West, and the broad sombrero crowning her golden hair outlined it like a halo. A simple blouse turned away to give freedom to the firm white throat completed the costume.

Dimpling with antic.i.p.ation, she held up her tin pail.

"I'm off, Aunt Ellen," she called. "You shall have your shortcake if there is a berry within five miles."

The woman listened to the fall of the light step on the stairs and the fragment of a song that came from the girl's lips until the last note of the music died away; then she called Melvina.

"Melviny!"

"Yes, marm."

"I want you should find Tony and tell him to harness up. There's somethin' I need done in the village."

"All right, Miss Webster."

"Bring me a sheet of paper an' a pencil before you go."

The nurse entered with the desired articles.

"I'm sendin' to town for Lawyer Benton," announced the patient with elaborate carelessness.

Neither Melvina's voice nor her face expressed the slightest curiosity.

"There's some business I must see to right away, an' I reckon I may's well get it fixed up this mornin'."

"Yes, marm."

"Give Tony this note for Mr. Benton and tell him to fetch him back soon's he can."

Nodding acquiescence, Melvina disappeared.

During the interval between the time the wheels rattled out of the yard and rattled in again, Ellen fidgeted at a high-pitched excitement, starting nervously at every sound. Sometimes she scowled; and once she burst into a harsh, cracked peal of laughter. Her thoughts, whatever they were, seemed to amuse her vastly.

The moment the tramp of the horse's hoofs sounded on the gravel outside, she was alert and called to Melvina, stationed at the window:

"Is that Tony?"

"Yes, marm."

"Has he got Mr. Benton with him?"

"Yes, Miss Webster. An' there's somebody else, too."

"That's good. Show Mr. Benton right up here. You needn't wait. I'll call you when I need you. Let the other man sit in the kitchen 'til we want him."

Whatever the mysterious business was, it took no great while, for before an hour had pa.s.sed Melvina, waiting in the hall outside the chamber door, heard a shrill summons.

"You can come in now, Melviny," Ellen said. "There's something here I want you should put your name to; an' you can fetch that man who's downstairs, an' Tony."

"All right."

When, however, a few seconds later Melvina, accompanied by the stranger and the wondering Portuguese boy, entered the patient's room, it was Mr.

Benton who stepped into the foreground and who came obsequiously forward, pen in hand, to address the attendant.

"The paper which you are about to sign, Miss Grey," he began pompously, "is----" But Ellen cut short his peroration.

"It don't make no difference to Melviny what it is, Mr. Benton," she said impatiently. "All she's got to do is to watch me write my name, an' then put hers down where you tell her, together with Tony an' the other witness. That will end it."

"But don't you think, Miss Webster, that in justice to Miss Grey, you should inform her----"

"No, I don't," snapped Ellen. "Melviny don't care nothin' about my affairs. I'll write my name. Then you can give her the pen an' let her sign. That's all she's got to do."

Although Mr. Benton was a man of heavy, impressive appearance, he was in reality a far less effectual person to combat opposition than he seemed, and sensing that in the present instance it was easier to yield than to argue, he allowed himself to be cowed into submission and meekly gave the pen to Melvina who with blind faith inscribed her name on the crisp white paper in a small cramped hand. Caleb Saunders, the witness Mr. Benton had brought with him, next wrote his name, forming each letter with such conscientiousness that Ellen could hardly wait until the painstaking and elaborate ceremonial was completed.

"Now let Tony sign," she ordered imperiously. "He needn't stop to wash his hands. A little dirt won't be no hindrance, an' I'm in a hurry to get this thing out of the way so Mr. Benton can go back."

Yet notwithstanding Ellen's haste, for Tony to affix his name to the doc.u.ment in question proved to be little short of a life work. Six times he had to be instructed on which line to write; and when on the seventh admonition his mind but vaguely grasped what was required of him, the lawyer took his stand at his elbow and with finger planted like a guidepost on the paper indicated beyond all chance of error where the signature was to be placed. When, however, the pen was redipped and upraised for the final legal touch, again it faltered. This time the delay was caused by uncertainties of spelling, which, it must be confessed, also baffled the combined intellects of the lawyer and the two women.

Paponollari was not a name commonly encountered in New England. The three wrestled with it valiantly, but when a vote was taken, and it was set down in accordance with the ruling of the majority, it was disheartening to discover that, when all was said and done, the Portuguese lad was not at all sure whether Tony was his Christian name or not.

"Good Lord!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Ellen when, after more debating, the signature was finally inscribed, "I'm clean beat out. Why, I could have deeded away the whole United States in the time it's taken this lout of a boy to scribble his name. Is it any wonder that with only a stupid idiot like this for help, my garden's always behind other folks', an' my ch.o.r.es never done?"

Then to the bewildered, nerve-wracked alien she thundered:

"Don't blot it, you fool!--don't blot it! Can't you keep your fingers out of the wet ink? Heavens, Melviny, do get him out of here!"

Tony was only too ready to retire. The ordeal had strained his patience and had left his brain feeling the stress of unaccustomed exercise.

Therefore, allowing Melvina to drive him before her much as she would have driven a docile Jersey from a cabbage patch, he made his way downstairs, followed by the perspiring lawyer.