“I mean to ask Miss Tracy to give sunthin’ seein’ her gran’father is buried there,” he said; then, turning to Craig, he asked, “Have you seen t’other one yet?”
Craig knew whom he meant, but wishing to hear what Uncle Zacheus would say, he asked with an air of some surprise, “Who is t’other one?”
“Why, you know. You’ve seen the one I call the daisy, though she’s more like them lilies she got with Jeff, who has never behaved so well in his life as sense he come up from the river with her. I mean the cousin,—the rich one. I seen her last night, and I tell you she’s a dandy. Shorter than the daisy,—plump as a partridge, and such eyes. Old as I am they gave me some such feelin’s as Dot’s used to when she talked to me over her father’s gate. She’s the one writ that nice letter I’ve got put away with Johnny’s blanket and the old sign.”
Neither of the young men could help laughing at Uncle Zach’s comparing Miss Tracy’s eyes with Dot’s, which, if they were ever bright, were faded now and expressionless.
“That is the kind of love God meant when He said a man shall cleave to his wife and they shall become one flesh,” Craig was thinking when Uncle Zach startled him by clutching his arm and whispering, “Wall, I’ll be dumbed. I didn’t tell you half. There she comes.”
Mark’s feet came down in a trice from the railing as he straightened himself up, while Craig hastily took his straw from his mouth and dropped it into the big tumbler. Around the corner nearest to Mark Helen came, gracefully holding the train of her dress with one hand and with the other affecting to brush something from the front of her skirt. Apparently she did not see either of the three men and nothing could have been more natural than her start of surprise and pretty blush when she at last looked up.
“Oh, I beg your pardon for intruding. My cousin told me it was cool here and so I came,” she said, dropping her train, and half turning to leave.
Instantly Craig and Mark were on their feet, while Uncle Zach, feeling it was incumbent on him to speak, said, “Don’t go. The piazzer is free. I’m glad to introduce you to Mark and Craig. Take a chair.”
Craig and Mark put their hands on the same chair in their efforts to serve her, and bowed so close together that their heads nearly touched each other. Helen took the offered chair and laughed as she said to Uncle Zach, “Please, Mr. Taylor, which is Mark and which is Craig? You didn’t tell me,” and her bright eyes met those of the young men who were laughing with her at Uncle Zach’s blunder.
“Well, I’ll be dumbed if I hain’t done a smart thing,” he said. “Dot would give me Hail Columby if she knew it, but I was so frustrated I didn’t know what I was about. This is Mr. Mason, and this is Mr. Hilton.”