Promises of that kind are easier to make than to keep. The captain promised promptly enough, but the Fates were against him. He made it his business to go to town the very next day and called upon his friend. He found the young man in a curiously excited and optimistic frame of mind, radically different from that of the past few months. The manuscript of the novel was before him on the desk, also plenty of blank paper. His fountain-pen was in his hand, although apparently, he had written nothing that morning.
But he was going to--oh, yes, he was going to! He was feeling just in the mood. He had read his manuscript, and it was not so bad; by George, some of the stuff was pretty good! And the end was not so far off. Five or six chapters more and the thing would be finished.
He would have to secure a publisher, of course, but two had already expressed an interest; and so on.
Captain Elisha drew his own conclusions. He judged that his niece's letter had reached its destination. He did not mention it, however, nor did Pearson. But when the captain hinted at the latter's running out to the house to see him some time or other, the invitation was accepted.
"That's fine, Jim," declared the visitor. "Come any time. I want you to see what a nice little place I've got out there. Don't stand on ceremony, come--er--next week, say." Then, mindful of his promise, he added, "You and I'll have it all to ourselves. I've been cal'latin' to hire a sail-boat for the summer; got my eye on a capable little sloop belongin' to a feller on the Sound shore. If all goes well I'll close the deal in a few days. I'll meet you at the depot and we'll have a sail and get dinner at a hotel or somewheres, and then we'll come up to the house and take a whack at Cap'n Jim's doin's in the new chapters. Just you and I together in the settin' room; hey?"Pearson did not seem so enthusiastic over this programme, although he admitted that it sounded tip-top.
"How is Miss Warren?" he asked, mentioning the name with a nonchalance remarkable, considering that he had not done so before for weeks. "She is well, I hope?""Yes, she's fust-rate, thank you. Very well, everything considered.
She keeps to herself a good deal. Don't care to meet many folks, and you can't hardly blame her."Pearson admitted that, and the remainder of the call was largely a monologue by Captain Elisha.
"Well, then, Jim," said the latter, when he rose to go, "you come up Monday or Tuesday of next week. Will you?""Yes. I--I think so."
"Don't think, do it. Let me know what train you're comin' on, and I'll meet you at the depot."This last remark was what upset calculations. Pearson came on Monday, having written the day before. He did not mail the note himself, but trusted it to Mrs. Hepton, who was going out to attend evening service. She forgot it until the next day. So it happened that when he alighted from the train at the suburban station the captain was not there to meet him. He waited a while, and then, inquiring the way of the station agent, walked up to the house by himself. As he turned in at the front walk, Caroline came out of the door. They met, face to face.
It was a most embarrassing situation, particularly for Caroline;yet, with feminine resourcefulness, she dissembled her embarrassment to some extent and acknowledged his stammered, "Good afternoon, Miss Warren," with a cool, almost cold, "How do you do, Mr. Pearson?"which chilled his pleasure at seeing her and made him wish devoutly that he had not been such a fool as to come. However, there he was, and he hastily explained his presence by telling her of the captain's invitation for that day, how he had expected to meet him at the station, and, not meeting him, had walked up to the house.
"Is he in?" he asked.
No, Captain Elisha was not in. He had gone to see the sail-boat man. Not hearing from his friend, he concluded the latter would not come until the next day.
"He will be so sorry," said Caroline.
Pearson was rather thankful than otherwise. The captain's absence afforded him an opportunity to escape from a place where he was plainly unwelcome.
"Oh, never mind," he said. "It is not important. I can run out another day. Just tell him I called, Miss Warren, please; that Iwrote yesterday, but my letter must have gone astray. Good afternoon."He was turning to go, but she stopped him. She had fully made up her mind that, when he came, she would not meet him--remembering how she had treated him on the evening of her birthday, she would be ashamed to look him in the face. Besides, she could not meet him after writing that letter; it would be too brazen; he would think--all sorts of things. When he visited her uncle she would remain in her room, or go to the city or somewhere.
But now she had met him. And he had come in response to her uncle's invitation, given because she herself had pleaded that it should be. To let him go away would be rude and ridiculous; and how could she explain to the captain?
"You mustn't go, Mr. Pearson," she said. "You must come in and wait; Captain Warren will be back soon, I'm sure.""Thank you; but I think I won't wait. I can come another time.""But you must wait. I insist. Uncle Elisha will be dreadfully disappointed if you don't. There isn't a train for an hour, and he will return before that, I am sure. Please come in."Pearson was reluctant, but he could think of no reasonable excuse.
So he entered the house, removed his overcoat and hat, and seated himself in the living room to await the captain's return. Caroline excused herself, saying that she had an errand at the shop in the village. She made that errand as long as she could, but when she returned he was still there, and Captain Elisha had not appeared.
