Adopted children -- Fiction; American fiction -- 19th century; Dime novels
But it was all lost on Lawrence, who was too supremely happy to think of
an old man’s expression. Mildred alone was uppermost in his thoughts,
and following the Judge to his carriage, he whispered:
“I’ve seen Clubs; I know the whole of father’s dastardly act, and I’m
going home with you to see Mildred. I shall marry her, too. A thousand
fathers can’t hinder me now!”
“Pluck!” exclaimed the Judge, disarmed at once of all prejudice by
Lawrence’s fearless manner of speaking. “Boy, there’s nothing pleases me
like pluck! Give us your hand!” and in that hearty squeeze by-gones were
forgotten and Lawrence fully restored to favor. “Now, drive home like
lightning!” he said to Finn, as they entered the carriage; and as far as
possible, Finn complied with his master’s orders.
But during that rapid ride there was sufficient time for questions and
explanations, and before Beechwood was reached the Judge had confessed
to the letters withheld and his reason for withholding them.
“But I made amends,” said he; “I docked the missionaries five thousand
at one time, ten at another, and five at another. If you don’t believe
it I can show you the codicils, witnessed and acknowledged, so there’ll
be no mistake.”
But Lawrence had no wish to discredit it. Indeed, he scarcely heard what
the Judge was saying, for the Beechwood windows were in view, and from
one a light was shining, showing him where Mildred sat, thinking of him,
perhaps, but not dreaming how near he was to her.
“You let me manage,” said the Judge, as they ran up the steps. “If
Milly’s sitting with her back to the door, I’ll go in first, while you
follow me on tiptoe. Then I’ll break it to her as gently as possible,
and when she screeches, as women always do, I’ll be off; for you know an
old dud like me would only be in the way.”
Mildred _was_ sitting with her back to the door, and gazing fixedly into
the fire. She was thinking of Lawrence, too, and was so absorbed in her
own thoughts as not to hear the Judge until he had a hand on either
shoulder and called her by name.
“Did I scare you, Gipsy?” he asked, as she started suddenly. “I reckon I
did a little for your heart beats like a trip-hammer; but never mind,
I’ve brought you something that’s warranted to cure the heart disorder.
What do you guess it is?”
Mildred did not know and the Judge continued:
“It’s a heap nicer than diamonds; and I shouldn’t wonder if it hugged
you tighter than _furs_. It stands six feet in its boots and has raised
a pair of the confoundedest whiskers——”
He did not need to tell her more, for directly opposite and over the
marble mantel a mirror was hanging, and glancing upward, Mildred saw
what it was that would “hug her tighter than fur,” and the screech the
Judge had predicted burst forth in a wild, joyous cry of “Lawrence,
Lawrence,—’tis Lawrence!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account