The Late Mrs. Null

by Frank R. Stockton

The storekeeper smiled at the pensive man, and the pensive man smiled back at the storekeeper. "You needn't trouble yourself about that young woman's husband," said Mr Peckett. "There'll be a horse doctor coming along afore you know it, and he'll attend to that old mar of yourn without chargin' you a cent."

CHAPTER XXI.

The second afternoon of Lawrence Croft's confinement in the little building in Mrs Keswick's yard, passed drearily enough. The sky retained its sombre covering of clouds, and the rain came down in a melancholy, capricious way, as if it were tears shed by a child who was crying because it was bad. The monotony of the slowly moving hours was broken only by a very brief visit from the old lady, who was going somewhere in the covered spring wagon, and who looked in, before she started, to see if her patient wanted anything; and by the arrival of a bundle of old novels sent by Mrs Null. These books Lawrence looked over with indifferent interest, hoping to find one among them that was not a love story, but he was disappointed. They were all based upon, and most of them permeated with, the tender passion, and Lawrence was not in the mood for reading about that sort of thing. A person afflicted with a disease is not apt to find agreeable occupation in reading hospital reports upon his particular ailment.

The novels were put aside, and although Lawrence felt that he had smoked almost too much during that day, he was about to light another cigar, when he heard a carriage drive into the yard. Turning to the window he saw a barouche, evidently a hired one, drawn by a pair of horses, very lean and bony, but with their heads reined up so high that they had an appearance of considerable spirit, and driven by a colored man, sitting upon a very elevated seat, with a jaunty air and a well-worn whip. The carriage drove over the grass to the front of the house—there was no roadway in the yard, the short, crisp, tough grass having long resisted the occasional action of wheels and hoofs—and there stopping, a gentleman, with a valise, got out. He paid the driver, who immediately turned the vehicle about, and drove away. The gentleman put his foot upon the bottom step as if he were about to ascend, and then, apparently changing his mind, he picked up his valise, and came directly toward the office, drawing a key from his pocket as he walked. It was Junius Keswick, and in a few minutes his key was heard in the lock. As it was not locked the key merely rattled, and Lawrence called out: "Come in." The door opened, and Junius looked in, evidently surprised. "I beg your pardon," said he, "I didn't know you were in here."

"Please walk in," said Lawrence. "I know I am occupying your room, and it is I who should ask your pardon. But you see the reason why it was thought well that I should not have stairs to ascend." And he pointed to his bandaged foot.

"Have you hurt yourself?" asked Junius, with an air of concern.

And then Lawrence gave an account of his accident, expressing at the same time his regret that he found himself occupying the room which belonged to the other.

"Oh, don't mention that," said Junius, who had taken a seat near the window. "There are rooms enough in the house, and I shall be perfectly comfortable. It was quite right in my aunt to have you brought in here, and I should have insisted upon it, myself, if I had been at home. I expected to be away for a week or more, but I have now come back on account of your letter."

"Does that need explanation?" asked Lawrence.

"Not at all," said Junius. "I had no difficulty in understanding it, although I must say that it surprised me. But I came because I am not satisfied with the condition of things here, and I wish to be on the spot. I do not understand why you and Miss March should be invited here during my absence."