David Harum: A Story of American LifeWestcott, Edward Noyes
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David Harum: A Story of American Life
Westcott, Edward Noyes
Bankers -- Fiction; New York (State) -- Fiction
"I believe that is so, but he isn't a German. He is from Philadelphia,
and is a friend of the Bradways."
"What kind of a feller is he? Good enough for her?"
"Well," said John, smiling, "in the sense in which that question is
usually taken, I should say yes. He has good looks, good manners, a good
deal of money, I am told, and it is said that Miss Clara--which is the
main point, after all--is very much in love with him."
"H'm," said David after a moment. "How do you git along with the Verjoos
girls? Was Claricy's ears pointed all right when you seen her fust after
she come home?"
"Oh, yes!" replied John, smiling, "she and her sister were perfectly
pleasant and cordial, and Miss Verjoos and I are on very friendly
terms."
"I was thinkin'," said David, "that you an' Claricy might be got to
likin' each other, an' mebbe--"
"I don't think there could ever have been the smallest chance of it,"
declared John hastily.
"Take the lines a minute," said David, handing them to his companion
after stopping the horses. "The nigh one's picked up a stone, I guess,"
and he got out to investigate. "The river road," he remarked as he
climbed back into the buggy after removing the stone from the horse's
foot, "is about the puttiest road 'round here, but I don't drive it
oftener jest on account of them dum'd loose stuns." He sucked the air
through his pursed-up lips, producing a little squeaking sound, and the
horses started forward. Presently he turned to John:
"Did you ever think of gettin' married?" he asked.
"Well," said our friend with a little hesitation, "I don't remember that
I ever did, very definitely."
"Somebody 't you knew 'fore you come up here?" said David, jumping at a
conclusion.
"Yes," said John, smiling a little at the question.
"Wouldn't she have ye?" queried David, who stuck at no trifles when in
pursuit of information.
John laughed. "I never asked her," he replied, in truth a little
surprised at his own willingness to be questioned.
"Did ye cal'late to when the time come right?" pursued Mr. Harum.
Of this part of his history John had, of course, never spoken to David.
There had been a time when, if not resenting the attempt upon his
confidence, he would have made it plain that he did not wish to discuss
the matter, and the old wound still gave him twinges. But he had not
only come to know his questioner very well, but to be much attached to
him. He knew, too, that the elder man would ask him nothing save in the
way of kindness, for he had had a hundred proofs of that; and now, so
far from feeling reluctant to take his companion into his confidence, he
rather welcomed the idea. He was, withal, a bit curious to ascertain the
drift of the inquiry, knowing that David, though sometimes working in
devious ways, rarely started without an intention. And so he answered
the question and what followed as he might have told his story to a
woman.
"An' didn't you never git no note, nor message, nor word of any kind?"
asked David.
"No."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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