A Cry in the WildernessWaller, Mary E. (Mary Ella)
General
A Cry in the Wilderness
Waller, Mary E. (Mary Ella)
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Québec (Province) -- Fiction
"Well, if Ewart's queer sometimes, as witness his abrupt departure, you
're queerer with your ideas of money."
I laughed back at him as I went out of the office:
"I can pay the Doctor now, Jamie. I 'm rich, you know."
XXV
We saw little, if anything, of Mr. Ewart for the next week. His time
was wholly occupied with the land business. He took his breakfast
early, at five or thereabout, and rarely came home for dinner or
supper. His return at night was also uncertain. Sometimes a telephone
message informed us he was starting for Montreal, or Quebec. I think I
saw him but once in the week that followed that morning in the office.
Then it was late in the evening, on his return from Montreal. He
seemed both tired and preoccupied. We were not at table with him
during those seven days. I wondered, and Jamie guessed in vain,
whether anything might be worrying him. It seemed natural that
something should be the trouble during such a wholesale transference of
land.
Mrs. Macleod and I were busy all day in getting ready the camp outfit
for the four of us. Cale was not to go, as his work was at home. It
surprised me that he had so little to say about Mr. Ewart to whom he
was devoted. Whenever, in the intimacy of our half-relation bond, I
felt at liberty to question him about his employer, he always put me
off in a manner far from satisfying and wholly irritating.
I asked him once if he knew whether Mr. Ewart was a bachelor or a
widower.
He stared at me for a moment.
"He ain't said one word ter me sence I come here as ter whether he is
one or t'other," he answered, sharply for him.
"That's all right, Cale; I bear you no grudge. But, in justice, you
'll have to admit that when you live month after month in the same
house with a man and his friends, you can't help wanting to know all
there is to know about him and them."
"Wal, if you look at it thet way, I ain't nothing ter say. How 'bout
yourself?" With that he deliberately turned his back on me, and left
me wondering if by any incautious word, by my manner, by any small act,
I might have betrayed the source of my new joy in life.
By the first of June the Seigniory of Lamoral was a wonderfully active
place. The farmers were making greater and more intelligent efforts in
cultivating their lands than ever before. Mr. Ewart had established
the beginning of a small school of agriculture and forestry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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