“I'll go back tonight,” the young fellow called back, dashing on at so mad a pace that the broad rim of his hat stood straight up.
“Do you know him?”
“I know them both.”
After another mile our travelers went down one long hill and up another and stopped at a house on the hilltop where lived the patient. Here, too, Mary chose to remain in the buggy. A wagon had stopped before a big gate opening into the barnyard and an old man in it was evidently waiting for someone. He looked at Mary and she looked at him; but he did not speak and just as she was about to say good morning, he turned and looked in another direction. When he finally looked around it seemed to Mary it would be a little awkward to bid him good morning now, so she tried to think what to say instead, by way of friendly greeting; it would be a little embarrassing to sit facing a human being for some time with not a word to break the constraint. But the more she cudgeled her brain the farther away flew every idea. She might ask him if he thought we were going to have a good corn crop, but it was so evident that we were, since the crop was already made that that remark seemed inane. The silence was beginning to be oppressive. Her eye wandered over the yard and she noticed some peach trees near the house with some of the delicious fruit hanging from the boughs. She remarked pleasantly, “I see they have some peaches here.” Her companion looked at her and said, “Hey?”
“I said, ‘I see they have some peaches here,’” she rejoined, raising her voice. He curved one hand around his ear and said again, “Hey?”
“O, good gracious,” thought Mary, “I wish I had let him alone.”
She shrieked this time, “I only said, ‘I see they have some peaches here.’”
When the old man said, “I didn't hear ye yet, mum,” she leaned back in the carriage, fanning herself vigorously, and gave it up. She had screamed as loud as she intended to scream over so trivial a matter. Looking toward the house she saw a tall young girl coming down the walk with something in her hand. She came timidly through the little gate and handed a plate of peaches up to the lady in the carriage, looking somewhat frightened as she did so. “I didn't hear ye,” she explained, “but Jim came in and said you was a-wantin' some peaches.”
Mary's face was a study. Jim and his sister had not seen the deaf old man in the wagon, as a low-branched pine stood between the wagon and the house. And this was the way her politeness was interpreted!
The comicality of the situation was too much. She laughed merrily and explained things to the tall girl who seemed much relieved.