The Awakening of Helena Richie - Page 203/229

Yet William King said to Dr. Lavendar that he thought that if the old

man could be induced to talk of his grandson, he might rally. "He

never speaks of him," the doctor said, "but I am sure he is brooding

over him all the time. Once or twice I have referred to the boy, but

he pretends not to hear me. He's using up all his strength to bear the

idea that he is to blame, I wish I could tell him that he isn't," the

doctor ended, sighing.

They had met in the hall as William was coming down-stairs and Dr.

Lavendar going up. Simmons, who had been shuffling about with a

decanter and hospitable suggestions, had disappeared into the dining-

room.

"Well," said Dr. Lavendar, "why don't you tell him? Though in fact,

perhaps he is to blame in some way that we don't know? You remember,

he said he had 'angered the boy'?"

"No; that wasn't it," said William.

Dr. Lavendar looked at him with sudden attention. "Then what--" he

began, but a lean, freckled shadow in the dining-room doorway, spoke

up: "Maybe he might 'a' made Marster Sam's Sam mad, suh, that night; maybe

he might 'a'. But that weren't no reason," said Simmons, in a

quivering voice, "for a boy to hit out and give his own grandfather a

lick. No, suh; it warn't. An' call him a liar!" Dr. Lavendar and

William King stared at each other and at the old man, in shocked

dismay. "His grandfather used words, maybe, onc't in a while," Simmons

mumbled on, "but they didn't mean no mo'n skim-milk. Don't I know?

He's damned me for forty years, but he'll go to heaven all the same.

The Lawd wouldn't hold it up agin' him. if a pore nigger wouldn't. If

He would, I'd as lief go to hell with Mr. Benjamin as any man I know.

Yes, suh, as I would with you yo'self, Dr. Lavendar. He was cream

kind; yes, he was! One o' them pore white-trash boys at Morison's

shanty Town, called me 'Ashcat' onc't; Mr. Wright he cotched him, and

licked him with his own hands, suh! An' he was as kind to Marster Sam

as if he was a baby. But Marster Sam hit him a lick. No, suh; it

weren't right--" Simmons rubbed the cuff of his sleeve over his eyes,

and the contents of the tilting decanter dribbled down the front of

his spotted old coat.

"Simmons," said Dr. Lavendar, "what had they been quarrelling about?"