By servant the precise old gentleman had no reference in any way to a house-servant, as the house was fully cared for by Aunt Sally and Uncle Eben. To introduce a stranger into their domestic affairs was indeed preposterous. But Mary Louise understood him the moment he spoke. “Haven’t the soldier boys all been servants of our glorious country?” asked Mary Louise indignantly. “Yes,” he replied, “but they have come from all classes and sections, some of them gentlemen, or scholars, our equals in every way, while others have scarcely enough wit to bring in an armful of wood.” “Even then,” broke in the girl, addressing the aged but stalwart Colonel, “someone must bring in the wood, and it’s an important matter to my mind.” She laughed in her piquant, irresistible way. She continued: “You see, Grandpa Jim, we’ve found at least one good reason for helping the brave soldiers who have so lately fought for the country you fought for many years ago.” “You may be right,” said the old gentleman, “but we are a little premature in this argument, my dear; we only know that the Dorfield Regiment is coming home again, and we only guess that there will be one or more extra men to provide for. Indeed, there may be none at all, for all those big, sturdy fellows had lives to live before they joined the colors. Perhaps half a dozen may be left to find situations and boarding houses for; perhaps two or three are so situated, perhaps one. When all are mustered out and returned to the places from which they enlisted we may have none at all to care for,—and that is a likely probability.”
“True enough, I admit,” said the girl with a little laugh, “so let us patiently wait till the train is in and the boys are mustered out. Then we can tell what duties are required from the loyal citizens of dear old Dorfield. It isn’t a big city, nor did it have a very big regiment to send to the front, nor very many soldiers to fight European battles, so I suppose I am borrowing trouble unnecessarily. Anyhow before we start, as the saying is, let us ring the doorbell and see if anyone is at home.”
CHAPTER II
BACK HOME
They put on their raincoats, and with umbrellas started out into the soggy, showery morning, for the drizzle had kept up nearly all the night before. “Even if we still had your old rattle-trap automobile which we exchanged for mine,” observed Mary Louise, “we’d have had hard work to make it go this morning.”
“It’s a shame,” said the old Colonel, as they started along the path, “to bring our soldiers home on such a rainy day. It ought to be a bright and sunny day of welcome.” “Still it’s their home, and they’ll be glad to get here under any circumstances,” asserted Mary Louise. “I think it’s raining harder than ever, Grandpa Jim.”
They were now where they could see the station, which seemed dull and deserted and the few people that were there seemed to be coming toward them. “I don’t believe the boys are coming to-day,” said the Colonel, “don’t you remember the paper said to-day or to-morrow?” “True,” added one of a group which had paused before them and knew the Colonel well, as all the earlier settlers did; “we’ll do better to get home where it is warm than hanging around here this miserable day. The weather would discourage any railroad train.” “That suits me,” said Mary Louise, and they started for home, chatting about the Dorfield men and discussing their usefulness.
There were no boys in “Grandpa Jim’s” family. He had had only one daughter who grew to delightful womanhood, married Judge Burrows, a prosperous lawyer, who died a few years later, leaving his baby girl—Mary Louise—to the care of his invalid wife and the staunch old grandfather.
Combining the two estates (the handsome old home belonged to the Hathaways), made a very pretty property for the young girl to inherit, and Mary Louise Burrows was known as the heiress of it all.
Colonel Hathaway naturally idolized this granddaughter, and it was from her baby lips that he first acquired the title of “Grandpa Jim,” which was cordially and affectionately followed by his many friends in the pretty but modest little city, where he was regarded as one of the two or three “leading citizens.”