XII.
John Hughson took his rejection rather sullenly, and Mercedes was more than ever alone in the old house. She never had had intimate companions among the young women of the neighborhood, and now they put the stigma of exclusion upon her. They envied her rejection of a serious suitor such as John. It was rumored the latter was taking to liquor, and she was blamed for it. Women often like to have others say yes to the first man who comes, and not leave old love affairs to cumber the ground. And girls, however loving to their friends, have but a cold sympathy for their sex in general.
One person profited by it, and that was old Jamie. He urged Mercedes nearly every day to alter her decision, and she seemed to like him for it. Always, now, one saw her walking with him; he became her ally against a disapproving world.
The next thing that happened was, Jamie's mother fell very ill. He had to sit with her of nights; and she would look at him fondly (she was too old and weak to speak much), as if he had been any handsome heir. Mercedes would sit with them sometimes, and then go into her parlor, where she would try to play a little, and then, as they supposed, would read. But books, before these realities of life, failed her. What she really did I hardly know. She wrote one letter to young Harleston Bowdoin, and he answered it; and then a second, which was still unanswered.
One night "the mother" spoke to Jamie of the girl: "'Tis a comely lass. I suppose you're proud you were adopting her?"
Old Jamie's face was always red as a winter apple, but his eyes blushed. "Anybody'd 'a' done that, mither,—such a lady as she is!"
"What'll ye be doin' of her after I'm gone? The pirate father'll come a-claimin' of her."
Jamie looked as if the pirate captain then might meet his match.
"Jamie, my son—have ye never thought o' marryin' her your own sel'? I'd like to see you with a wife before I go."
There was no doubt that Jamie was blushing now.