Only once was the bond of feeling between Ray and Chip referred to by Old Cy, and then in response to a wish of Ray’s that he might hear from her.
“I don’t think ye’ve cause to worry now, arter ye’ve sent her word what ye’re doin’ ’n’ who for,” he answered. “Chip’s true blue, not one o’ the fickle sort, ’n’ once she keers fer a man, she won’t give him up till he’s married or dead. I think ye’d orter sent her word sooner,–ye know she run ’way out o’ spunk,–but when ye go to her like a man ’n’ say, ‘I've been workin' 'n' waitin' fer ye all the time,’ thar won’t be no quarrellin’.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” responded Ray, soberly. “From what Uncle Martin said, my chance is gone with Miss Chip, and I don’t blame her for feeling so. Like every young fellow, I took it for granted that she was in love with me and ready to fall into my arms on call. Then I hadn’t any plans in life, anyway, and, like a fool, believed it made no difference to her. To mix matters up still more, Hannah crowded herself into our affairs and said things to Chip, with the result that Chip got mad, ran away, and you know the rest.”
“Wal,” asserted Old Cy, his eyes twinkling, “the time to hug a gal is when she’s willin’, ’n’ ye orter spunked up that night ’fore ye come away ’n’ told her ye was callatin’ to make yer fortin in the woods, an’ that ye wanted her to wait ’n’ share it–then hugged ’n’ kissed her a little more by way o’ bindin’ the bargain, an’–knowin’ that gal ez I do, she’d fought Hannah, tooth ’n’ nail, ’n’ walked through fire ’n’ brimstun fer ye. I think, ’stead o’ hidin’ herself fer two years, an’ changin’ her name, she’d ’a’ tramped clear to Grindstun jest to tell ye her troubles, ’n’, if need be, she’d ’a’ starved fer ye. I tell ye, boy, wimmin like her is scarce in this world, ’n’ when ye find one young ’n’ pretty ez she is, hang on to her an’ hang hard.”
“I know it now well enough,” returned Ray, ruefully; “but that don’t help matters. Then that fortune you found for her makes my case all the worse, and Chip quite independent.”
“It do, it do,” chuckled Old Cy, as if glad of it, “an’ all the more need o’ you hustlin’. It’s a case o’ woodchuck with ye now. But don’t git discouraged. Jest dig. Chip’s worth it, ten times over, ’n’ no man ever worked to win a woman ’thout bein’ bettered by it.”
It was terse and homely advice, and not only convinced Ray that he had neglected one whom he now felt meant home, wife, happiness, and all that life might mean for him, but made him realize that all possible striving and self-denial must be made in atonement. With whom and what sort of people Chip had found asylum, he knew not. What influence they would have upon her feelings was an equally unknown matter; and worse than that, the ogre of another suitor for Chip’s favor now entered Ray’s calculations, and the slang truism, “There are others,” was with him every waking moment–a much-deserved punishment, all womankind will say.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
One day while Aunt Abby and Chip were enjoying the newly furnished home of Uncle Jud, a capacious carriage drawn by a handsome pair of horses halted there and Martin and Angie alighted.