Mr. de Laney tried to appraise, while the object hung her head
self-consciously and twisted her feet. He had no idea of children's
ages.
"About eleven," he guessed, with an air of wisdom.
"Jest eight an' a half!" cried the dame, folding her hands
triumphantly. She let her fond maternal gaze rest on the prodigy.
Suddenly she darted forward with extraordinary agility for one so well
endowed with flesh, and seized her offspring in relentless grasp.
"I do declare, Maude Eliza!" she exclaimed in horror-stricken tones,
"you ain't washed your ears! You come with me!"
They disappeared in a blue mist of wails.
As though this were his cue, the crafty features of Lawton appeared
cautiously in the doorway, bestowed a furtive and searching inspection
on the room, and finally winked solemnly at its only occupant. A hand
was inserted. The forefinger beckoned. Bennington arose wearily and
went out.
Lawton led the way to a little oat shed standing at some distance from
the house. Behind this he paused. From beneath his coat he drew a round
bottle and two glass tumblers.
"No joke skippin' th' ole lady," he chuckled in an undertone. He poured
out a liberal portion for himself, and passed the bottle along.
Bennington was unwilling to hurt the old fellow's feelings after he had
taken so much trouble on his account, but he was equally unwilling to
drink the whisky. So he threw it away when Lawton was not looking.
They walked leisurely toward the house, Lawton explaining various
improvements in a loud tone of voice, intended more to lull his wife's
suspicions than to edify the young man. The lady looked on them
sternly, and announced dinner. At the table Bennington found Mary
already seated.
The Easterner was placed next to Mrs. Lawton. At his other hand was
Maude Eliza. Mary sat opposite. Throughout the meal she said little,
and only looked up from her plate when Bennington's attention was
called another way.
Her mere presence, however, seemed to open to the young man a different
point of view. He found Mrs. Lawton's lengthy dissertations amusing; he
considered Mr. Lawton in the light of a unique character, and Maude
Eliza, while as disagreeable as ever, came in for various excuses and
explanations on her own behalf in the young man's mind. He became more
responsive. He told a number of very good stories, at which the others
laughed. He detailed some experiences of his own at places in the world
far remote, selected, it must be confessed, with some slight reference
to their dazzling effect on the company. Without actually "showing
off," he managed to get the effect of it. The result of his efforts was
to harmonize to some extent these diverse elements. Mrs. Lawton became
more coherent, Mr. Lawton more communicative; Maude Eliza stopped
whining--occasionally and temporarily. Bennington had rarely been in
such high spirits. He was surprised himself, but then was not that day
of moment to him, and would he not have been a strange sort of
individual to have seen in the world aught but brightness?