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CHAPTER XXIX. Two Pieces of News
It was nearly two weeks after Mrs. Easterfield drove away from the
captain's toll-gate before she went back there again. There were many
reasons for thus depriving herself of Olive's society. Mr. Tom had
stayed with her for an unusually long time; a house full of visitors,
mostly relatives, had succeeded the departed lovers, and Foxes; and,
besides, Olive was so very busy and so very happy--as she learned from
many little notes--cleaning the house from garret to cellar, and loving
her uncle better every day, that it really would have been a misdemeanor
to interfere with her ardent pursuits.
But now Olive had written that she wanted to tell her a lot of things
which could not go into a letter, and so the Broadstone carriage stopped
again at the toll-gate.
Two great things had Olive to tell, and she was really glad that her
uncle was not at home so that she might get at once to the telling.
In the first place, old Mr. Port was dead, and Captain Asher was in
great trouble about this. Of course, he could not keep away from the
deathbed of his old friend, nor could he neglect to do all honor to his
memory, but it was a terrible thing for him to have to go into the
house where Maria Port lived. After what had happened it was almost too
much for his courage, although he was a brave man. But he had conquered
his feelings, and he was there now. The funeral would be to-morrow.
When Mrs. Easterfield heard all that Olive had to tell her about Maria
Port, her heart went out to that brave man who kept the toll-gate.
The next thing that Olive had to tell was that she had heard from her
father, who wrote that he would soon arrive in this country; that he
would then go West, where he would marry Olive's former schoolmate; and
that, on their wedding tour, he would make a little visit at the
tollhouse so that Olive might see her new mother.
"Now, isn't this enough," cried Olive, "to make any girl spread her
wings and fly to the ends of the earth? But I have no wings; they have
all gone away in a dog-cart. But I don't feel about that as I used to
feel," she continued, a little hardness coming into her face. "I am
settled now just the same as if I were married, and father and Edith
Malcolmsen may come just as soon as they please. They shall make no
plans for me; I am going to stay here with Uncle John. This house is
mine now, and I am seriously thinking of having it painted. I shall stay
here just as if I were one of those trees, and my father and my new
mother--"
Here tears came into Olive's eyes and Mrs. Easterfield stopped her.
"Olive," said she, "I will give you a piece of advice. When your father
and his young wife come here, treat her exactly as if she were your old
friend. If you do so I think you will get along very well. This is
partly selfish advice, for I greatly desire the opportunity to treat
your father hospitably. He was my friend when I was a girl, you
remember, and I looked up to him with very great admiration."
And so these two friends sat and talked, and talked, and talked until it
was positively shameful, considering that the Broadstone horses were
accustomed to be fed and watered at noon, and that the coachman was very
hungry.
When, at last, Mrs. Easterfield drove home, and it must have been three
in the afternoon, she left Olive very much comforted, even in regard to
the unfortunate obligations which had fallen upon her uncle. For now
that her old father had gone, all intercourse with the Port woman would
cease.
But in her own mind Mrs. Easterfield was not so very much comforted. It
was all well enough to talk about Olive and her uncle and the happiness
and safety of the home he had given her, but that sort of thing could
not last very long. He was an elderly man and she was a girl. In the
natural course of events, she would probably be left alone while she was
very young. She would then be alone, for her father's wife could never
be a mother to her when he was at sea, and their home would never be a
home for her when he was on shore. What Olive wanted, in Mrs.
Easterfield's opinion, was a husband. An uncle, such as Captain Asher,
was very charming, but he was not enough.
During this pleasant afternoon, when Captain Asher was in town
attending to some arrangements for the burial of Mr. Port, Miss Maria
was sitting discreetly alone in her darkened chamber. She had a great
many things to think about, and if she had allowed her conscience full
freedom of action, there would have been much more upon her mind. She
might have been troubled by the recollection that since her father's
very determined treatment of her when she had endeavored to fix herself
upon the affections of Captain Asher, she had so conducted herself
toward her venerable parent that she had actually nagged the life out of
him; and that had she been the dutiful daughter she ought to have been
he might have been living yet. But thoughts of this nature were not
common to Maria Port. She had made herself sure that the will was all
right, and he was very old. There was a time for all things, and Maria
was now about to begin life for herself. To her plans for this new life
she now gave almost her sole attention.
She had one great object in view which overshadowed everything else, and
this was to marry Captain Asher. This she could have done before, she
firmly believed, had it not been for her old father and that horrid
girl, the captain's niece. As for the elderly man who kept the toll-gate
she did not mind him. If not interfered with, she was sure she could
make him marry her, and then the great ambition of her life would be
satisfied.
Unpretentious as was her establishment in town, she did not care to
spend the money necessary to keep it up, and although she was often an
unkind woman, she was not cruel enough to think of inflicting herself
as a boarder upon any housewife in the town. No, the toll-gate was the
home for her; and if Captain Asher chose to inflict himself upon her for
a few years longer, she would try to endure it.
One obstacle to her plans was now gone, and she must devote herself to
the work of getting rid of the other one. While Olive Asher remained at
the tollhouse there was no chance for her in that quarter.
The funeral was over, and when the bereaved Miss Port took leave of
Captain Asher she exhibited a quiet gratitude which was very becoming
and suitable. During the short time when he had visited the house every
day she had showed him no resentment on account of what had passed
between them, and had treated him very much as if he had been one of her
father's old friends with whom she was not very well acquainted and to
whom she was indebted for various services connected with the sad
occasion.
When he took final leave of her he shook her hand, and as he did so he
gave her a peculiar grasp which, in his own mind, indicated that he and
she had now nothing more to do with each other, and that the
acquaintance was adjourned without day. She bade him a simple farewell,
and as he left the house she grinned at his broad back. This grin
expressed, to herself at least, that the old and rather faulty
acquaintance was at an end, and that the new connection which she
intended to establish between herself and him would be upon an entirely
different basis.
He did not ask her if there was anything more that he could do for her,
for he did not desire to mix himself up with her affairs, which he knew
she was eminently able to manage for herself, and it was with a deep
breath of relief that he got into his buggy and drove home to his
toll-gate.
Read next: Chapter 30. By The Sea
Read previous: Chapter 28. Here We Go! Lovers Three!
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