The Major had accomplished his errand and had taken his departure, accompanied down the oleander path as far as the gate by Holly. He was very well satisfied with his measure of success. Miss India had consented to remain at Waynewood until the arrival of the new owner, and if the new owner proved to be the kind of man the Major hoped him to be, things would work out quite satisfactory. Of course a good deal depended on Robert Winthrop’s being as much of an invalid as the Major had pictured him to Miss India. Let him appear on the scene exhibiting a sound body and rugged health and all the Major’s plans would be upset; Miss India’s sympathy would vanish on the instant, and Waynewood would be promptly abandoned to the enemy.
The Major’s affection for Miss India and Holly was deep and sincere, and the idea of their leaving Waynewood was intolerable to him. The thing mustn’t be, and he believed he could prevent it. Winthrop, on arrival, would of course call upon him at once. Then he would point out to him the advantage of retaining such admirable tenants, acquaint him with the terms of occupancy, and prevail upon him to renew the lease, which had expired some months before. It was not likely that Winthrop would remain in Corunna more than three months at the most, and during his stay he could pay Miss India for his board. Yes, the Major had schemed it all out between the moment of receiving that disquieting letter and the moment of his arrival at Waynewood. And his schemes looked beyond the present crisis. In another year or so Julian Wayne, Holly’s second cousin, would have finished his term with Doctor Thompson at Marysville and would be ready to begin practice for himself, settle down and marry Holly. Why shouldn’t Julian buy Waynewood? To be sure, he possessed very little capital, but it was not likely that the present owner of Waynewood would demand a large price for the property. There could be a mortgage, and Julian was certain to make a success of his profession. In this way Waynewood would remain with the Waynes and Miss India and Holly could live their lives out in the place that had always been home to them. So plotted the Major, while Fate, outwardly inscrutable, doubtless chuckled in her sleeve.
At the gate the Major had shaken hands with Holly and made a request.
“My dear,” he had said, “when you return to the house your Aunt will have something to tell you. Be guided by her. Remember that there are two sides to every question and that—ah—time alters all things.”
“But, Uncle Major, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Holly had declared, laughing.
“I know you don’t, my dear; I know you don’t. And I haven’t time to tell you.” He had drawn his big silver watch from his vest and glanced at it apprehensively. “I promised to be at my office an hour ago. I really must hurry back. Good-bye, my dear.”
“Good-bye,” Holly had answered. “But I think you’re a most provoking, horrid old Uncle Major.”
But if the Major had feared mutiny on the part of Holly he might have spared himself the uneasiness. Holly had heard of the impending event from Aunt India at the dinner table with relish. Of course it was disgusting to learn that Waynewood was owned by a Northerner, but doubtless that was an injustice of Fate which would be remedied in good time. The exciting thing was that they were to have a visitor, a stranger, someone from that fearsomely interesting and, if reports were to be credited, delightfully wicked place called New York; someone who could talk to her of other matters than the prospects of securing the new railroad.
“Auntie, is he married?” she had asked, suddenly.