California -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Western stories
"No," he continued, bestriding a chair, and familiarly confronting Low
over its back. "No, sir--no! And you want me to say 'No,' don't you,
regarding the little walks of Nellie and a certain young man in the
Carquinez Woods?--ha, ha! You'd like me to say that I knew nothing of
the botanizings, and the herb collectings, and the picnickings
there--he-he!--you sly dog! Perhaps you'd like to tempt Father Wynn
further and make him swear he knows nothing of his daughter disguising
herself in a duster and meeting another young man--isn't it another
young man?--all alone, eh? Perhaps you want poor old Father Wynn to say
'No.' No, sir, nothing of the kind ever occurred. Ah, you young
rascal!"
Slightly troubled, in spite of Wynn's hearty manner, Low, with his
usual directness however, said, "I do not want any one to deny that I
have seen Miss Nellie."
"Certainly, certainly," said Wynn, abandoning his method, considerably
disconcerted by Low's simplicity, and a certain natural reserve that
shook off his familiarity. "Certainly it's a noble thing to be able to
put your hand on your heart and say to the world, 'Come on, all of you!
Observe me; I have nothing to conceal. I walk with Miss Wynn in the
woods as her instructor--her teacher, in fact. We cull a flower here
and there; we pluck an herb fresh from the hand of the Creator. We
look, so to speak, from Nature to Nature's God.' Yes, my young friend,
we should be the first to repel the foul calumny that could
misinterpret our most innocent actions."
"Calumny?" repeated Low, starting to his feet. "What calumny?"
"My friend, my noble young friend, I recognize your indignation. I know
your worth. When I said to Nellie, my only child, my perhaps too simple
offspring--a mere wildflower like yourself--when I said to her, 'Go, my
child, walk in the woods with this young man, hand in hand. Let him
instruct you from the humblest roots, for he has trodden in the ways of
the Almighty. Gather wisdom from his lips, and knowledge from his
simple woodman's craft. Make, in fact, a collection not only of herbs,
but of moral axioms and experience,'--I knew I could trust you, and,
trusting you, my young friend, I felt I could trust the world. Perhaps
I was weak, foolish. But I thought only of her welfare. I even recall
how that, to preserve the purity of her garments, I bade her don a
simple duster; that, to secure her from the trifling companionship of
others, I bade her keep her own counsel, and seek you at seasons known
but to yourselves."
"But ... did Nellie ... understand you?" interrupted Low hastily.
"I see you read her simple nature. Understand me? No, not at first! Her
maidenly instinct--perhaps her duty to another--took the alarm. I
remember her words. 'But what will Dunn say?' she asked. 'Will he not
be jealous?'"
"Dunn! jealous! I don't understand," said Low, fixing his eyes on Wynn.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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