In the parlor the light was dim, the flame in the fire-place not yet having enveloped logs recently put on, and in my eagerness to get into my hiding-place, I overturned a chair. It struck the floor with a deafening noise, I thought, and as I put it back into place I listened for approaching footsteps, but heard nothing save Old Master's loud-toned talk upon the necessity of observing all beneficial forms. I could not understand what he said, nor did I halt long enough to try, but leaping behind the old sofa, stretched myself out upon the floor. Of course every sound about the house was now increased to new volume, and of course my heart beat so hard upon the floor that I was afraid that someone might hear it. A cat came in and purred against the legs of the sofa, a yellow, hateful creature that all previous coaxing had failed to induce to come near me; and I scolded at her under my breath, but she rubbed against me, and mewed as if to invite discovery of my shame. I knew that I must get rid of her, and I think that once I felt in my pocket to find my knife to cut her throat, but by a slight noise was frightened out of this cruel intention. I did not parley with her, though I picked her up, clambered over the sofa, raised the window and as she clawed at me, threw her out. And I had just time enough to hasten back to my hiding-place when I heard foot-steps in the hall. There was no opening through which I could see what was passing, for my peeping-place commanded but a view of the hearth and the rug spread in front of it. Presently upon the parlor carpet came the doctor's footsteps—I knew them well—and the soft rustle of skirts. For a few moments the doctor stood on the rug, and the skirts, which I could just see, showed me that Miss May had sat down in a rocking chair. I fancied that the doctor was lighting a cigar, and about the time I thought he must have it going, he sat down not far from Miss May. For a long time they talked of neighborhood happenings, parties, marriages, deaths—she as artless as a child, frank and cheerful; but he, sly and insinuating. He told her of his adventures, with race horses in the East and with gamblers on the Mississippi River, and her exclamations from time to time told me of the effect the recital had upon her; and I could well understand it, for indeed the rascal interested me. Sometimes I thought that he had wandered so far from the subject which had on his part induced this communion that I did not see how he was to approach it, but somehow he found his way back, though not with perfect ease, for I saw my young mistress move her chair in her embarrassment. "And May," he said, "during all these years, while you were growing and blooming, my mind dwelt upon you—and but for you, I don't think that I should have cared to live—"
"Why, Brother George," she broke in, "what are you saying?"
"May, listen to me a moment. Don't call me brother—call me George. Wait a moment, please." There was a flouncing of her skirts and I thought that she must have been getting out of the rocking chair. "You look frightened when, indeed, this should be as quiet as the time when you say your prayers. May, I am no longer as poor a man as I was—"
"But, brother, has anyone reproached you with your poverty?" she asked.
"There you go, calling me brother again. Not lately, but in the past, yes. I have eaten the bitter bread of the dependent—"
"Don't say that," she protested. "Did you invite me here to tell me this? Tell me more of your adventures?"
"May, you are not a child."
"Well, no," she laughed. "I am really getting along in years. I am much older than Bob, and you know he is nearly a man now."
"We are all getting along in years," he replied. "Time is cutting the pigeon wing. But now let me talk seriously to you. Your memory of my devotion to your sister Lou must still be fresh, and God knows I loved her, but May, my love for you is greater, passes all understanding, and I ask you to be my wife."