“Did he now? Well, just goes to show what excellent judgment he’s got! Haven’t had much time to do no letter-writin’ or send presents, but I guess it ain’t too late to pay my respects and show how I allus appreciated Nat’s readin’ me poetry. Take this here. I gotta go see a man!”
Caleb said this last suddenly and a bit wildly. He had no man to “see” but he did have to get away before he choked so tightly he could only gurgle. With his declaration, however, he pressed a bit of heavy, crinkled, folded paper into Madelaine’s palm.
Madelaine laughed again and thanked him and handed it to her husband. Nathan shoved it in the pocket of his waistcoat. The reception was well over before he thought to look at it.
It was old Caleb’s check, drawn on a Boston bank for ten thousand dollars.
V
But Mrs. Nathaniel Forge, née Theddon, never knew how truly she spoke, nor significantly, when she declared that old Caleb was to be one of her dearest friends because he had been Nathan’s. And for a reason entirely apart from her husband.
After her supper to her bridesmaids, Madelaine slipped upstairs to change into her traveling suit. Her mother had been unpardonably missing for over an hour. Having occasion to enter the upper library, Madelaine drew back aghast.
Her mother was in there alone with old Caleb. Her mother was sobbing. But her mother was merely exercising sweet woman’s prerogative to weep gloriously and copiously, in proof that she was happy, happy, happy.
Madelaine turned blank of face from what she had seen. She met Nathan on the stairs. She caught her husband and spoke in swift and stupefied whispers.
Nathan grinned. Yes, he did!