She went, and although their conversation that morning touched upon ribs and anatomy, it would, if taken as a whole, have been of little value to a scientist. It was distinctly personal. The one sentiment which appeared to have an irresistible fascination for the bull-fighter and his fiancée colored all remarks, and the fact that the dialogue would have caused them the most intense mortification if made public, tended in no degree to lessen their enjoyment. To a middle-aged person who had never been in love it would have been unendurable.
Later in the day she intercepted the doctor and learned as much as possible of the patient’s condition. Two ribs were badly broken, he said; had been pressed inward to a serious extent, but so far there were no indications of internal injuries. Of this, however, he could not at present be absolutely sure, but he thought there was no great cause for alarm. The patient, of course, must keep quiet for a week or two.
Fortunately for Amos there proved to be no injury save the damaged ribs, but three long weeks elapsed before he was allowed to go up and down stairs and move about the house.
The last day of August proved a day of discoveries.
It was bright and warm, yet invigorating, the perfection of terrestrial weather, and Mr. Cabot and Molly, early in the afternoon, were sitting upon the piazza discussing the date of their departure, Amos occupying his favorite place upon the floor in front of them, his back against a column. When she informed her father that additional trunks or boxes of some kind would be needed, Amos said that such articles were going to waste in the Judd residence, and if she would but step across the way and select a few, it would be a lasting benefit to an overcrowded attic. This offer was accepted and they started off. After climbing the final stairs, which were steep and narrow, Molly seated herself upon an old-fashioned settle, the back of which could be lowered and used as an ironing table. “How I do love this smell of an attic! Is it the sap from the hot pine? And isn’t there sage in the air, or summer savory?”
“Both. With a few old love-letters and a touch of dried apples.”
“Whatever it is, I love it. The days of my childhood come galloping back,” and with upturned face she closed her eyes and drew a longer breath. He bent silently over and touched her lips.
“What a breach of hospitality!”
“When a visitor insults a host by sleeping in his presence, it is etiquette to awaken her. And when lips with those particular undulations look one pleasantly in the eye and say ‘Amos, kiss us,’ what do you expect to happen?”
“From you I expect the worst, the most improper thing.”