How Janice Day Won Part 13

"I expect you feel pretty bad, Janice Day," went on Mrs. Scattergood.

"But it's allus the way. You'll find as you grow older that there ain't much in this world for females, young or old, but trouble."

"Why, Mrs. Scattergood!" cried the girl, and this time she did call up a merry look. "What have you to trouble you? You have the nicest time of any person I know--unless it is Mrs. Marvin Petrie. No family to trouble you; enough to live on comfortably; nothing to do but go visiting--or stay at home if you'd rather----"

"Tut, tut, tut, child! All is not gold that glitters," was the quick reply. "I ain't so happy as ye may think. I have my troubles. But, thanks be! they ain't abeout men. But you've begun yours, I kin see."

"Yes, I am troubled because Mr. Haley is falsely accused," admitted Janice, stoutly.

"Wal--yes. I expect you air. And if it ain't no worse than you believe--Wal! I said you was a new-fas.h.i.+oned gal when I fust set eyes on you that day comin' up from the Landing in the old _Constance Colfax_; and you be."

"How am I different from other girls?" asked Janice, curiously.

"Wal! Most gals would wait till they was sure the young man wasn't goin' to be arrested before they ran right off to see him. But mebbe it's because you ain't got your own mother and father to tell ye diff'rent."

Janice flushed deeply at this and her eyes sparkled.

"I am sure Aunt 'Mira and Uncle Jason would have told me not to call on Nelson if they did not believe just as I do--that he is guiltless and that all his friends should show him at once that they believe in him."

"Hoity-toity! Mebbe so," said the woman, tartly. "Them Days never did have right good sense--yer uncle an' aunt, I mean. When _I_ was a gal we wouldn't have been allowed to have so much freedom where the young fellers was consarned."

Janice was quite used to Mrs. Scattergood's sharp tongue; but it was hard to bear her strictures on this occasion.

"I hope it is not wrong for me to show my friend that I trust and believe in him," she said firmly, and nodding good-bye, turned abruptly away.

Of herself, or of what the neighbors thought of her conduct, Janice Day thought but little. She went on to Mrs. Beaseley's cottage, solely anxious on Nelson's account.

She found the widow in tears, for selfishly immured as Mrs. Beaseley was in her ten-year-old grief over the loss of her "sainted Charles,"

she was a dear, soft-hearted woman and had come to look upon Nelson Haley almost as her son.

"Oh, Janice Day! what ever are we going to do for him?" was her greeting, the moment the girl entered the kitchen. "If my poor, dear Charles were alive I know he would be furiously angry with Mr. Cross Moore and those other men. Oh! I cannot bear to think of how angry he would be, for Charles had a very stern temper.

"And Mr. Haley is such a pleasant young man. As I tell 'em all, a nicer and quieter person never lived in any lone female's house. And to think of their saying such dreadful things about him! I am sure _I_ never thought of locking anything away from Mr. Haley in this house--and there's the 'leven sterling silver teaspoons that belonged to poor, dear Charles' mother, and the gold-lined sugar-basin that was my Aunt Abby's, and the sugar tongs--although they're bent some.

"Why! Mr. Haley is jest one of the nicest young gentlemen that ever was. And here he comes home, pale as death, and won't eat no dinner.

Janice, think of it! I allus have said, and I stick to it, that if one can eat they'll be all right. My sainted Charles," she added, stating for the thousandth time an uncontrovertible fact, "would be alive to this day if he had continued to eat his victuals!"

"I'd like to speak to Mr. Haley," Janice said, finally "getting a word in edgewise."

"Of course. Maybe he'll let you in," said the widow. "He won't me, but I think he favors you, Janice," she added innocently, shaking her head with a continued mournful air. "He come right in and said: 'Mother Beaseley, I don't believe I can eat any dinner to-day,' and then shut and locked his door. I didn't know what had happened till 'Rene Hopper, she that works for Mrs. Cross Moore, run in to borry my heavy flat-iron, an' she tol' me about the stolen money. Ain't it _awful_?"

"I--I hope Nelson will let me speak to him, Mrs. Beaseley," stammered Janice, finding it very difficult now to keep her tears back.

"You go right along the hall and knock at his door," whispered Mrs.

Beaseley, hoa.r.s.ely. "An' you tell him I've got his dinner down on the stove-hearth, 'twixt plates, a-keepin' it hot for him."

Janice did as she was bidden as far as knocking at the door of the front room was concerned. There was no answer at first--not a sound from within. She rapped a second time.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Beaseley; I could not possibly eat any dinner to-day," Nelson's voice finally replied.

There was no tremor in the tone of it. Janice knew just how proud the young man was, and no matter how bitterly he was hurt by this trouble that had fallen upon him, he would not easily reveal his feelings.

She put her lips close to the crack of the door. "Nelson!" she whispered. "Nelson!" a little louder.

She heard him spring to his feet and overturn the chair in which he had been sitting.

"Nelson! it's only me," Janice quavered, the pulse beating painfully in her throat. "Let me in--do!"

He came across the room slowly. She heard him fumble at the key and k.n.o.b. Then the door opened.

"Oh, Nelson!" she repeated, when she saw him in the darkened parlor.

The pallor of his face went to her heart. His hair was disheveled; his eyes red from weeping. After all, he was just a big boy in trouble, and with no mother to comfort him.

All the maternal instincts of Janice Day's nature went out to the young fellow. "Nelson! Nelson!" she cried, under her breath. "You poor, poor boy! I'm so sorry for you."

"Janice--you----" He stammered, and could not finish the phrase.

She cried, emphatically: "Of course I believe in you, Nelson. We _all_ do! You must not take it so to heart. You will not bear it all alone, Nelson. Every friend you have in Polktown will help you."

She had come close to him, her hands fluttering upon his breast and her eyes, sparkling with teardrops, raised to his face.

"Oh, Janice!" he groaned, and swept her into his arms.

CHAPTER X

HOW POLKTOWN TOOK IT

That was a very serious Sat.u.r.day night at the old Day house, as well as at the Beaseley cottage. Aunt 'Mira had whispered to Janice before the girl had set forth with her uncle in the afternoon:

"Bring him home to supper with ye, child--the poor young man! We got to cheer him up, betwixt us. I'm goin' to have raised biscuits and honey. He does dote on light bread."

But Nelson would not come. Janice had succeeded in encouraging him to a degree; but the young schoolmaster was too seriously wounded, both in his self-respect and at heart, to wish to mingle on this evening with any of his fellow-townsmen--even those who were his declared friends and supporters.

"Don't look for me at church to-morrow, either, Janice," the young man said. "It may seem cowardly; but I cannot face all these people and ignore this disgrace."

"It is _not_ disgrace, Nelson!" Janice cried hotly.

"It is, my dear girl. One does not have to be guilty to be disgraced by such an accusation. I may be a coward; I don't know. At least, I feel it too keenly to march into church to-morrow and know that everybody is whispering about me. Why, Janice, I might break down and make a complete fool of myself."

"Oh, no, Nelson!"

"I might. Even the children will know all about it and will stare at me. I have to face them on Monday morning, and by that time I may have recovered sufficient self-possession to ignore their glances and whispers."

And with that decision Janice was obliged to leave him.

"The poor, foolish boy!" Aunt 'Mira said. "Don't he know we all air sufferin' with him?"