Pole Baker: A NovelHarben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
General
Pole Baker: A Novel
Harben, Will N. (Will Nathaniel)
Georgia -- Fiction
“How are you to-day, Brother Porter?” Hillhouse asked as they came upon
the old man, under the trees, a little way from the church.
“Oh, I'm about as common,” was the drawling answer. “You may notice that
I limp a little in my left leg. Ever since I had white-swellin' I've had
trouble with that self-same leg. I wish you folks would jest stop an'
take a peep at it. It looks to me like the blood's quit circulatin' in
it. It went to sleep while you was a-talkin' this mornin'--now, I'll
swear I didn't mean that as a reflection.” He laughed dryly as he paused
at a fallen tree and put his foot upon it and started to roll up the leg
of his trousers, but his wife drew him on impatiently.
“I wonder what you'll do next!” she said, reprovingly. “This is no time
and place for that. What would the Duncans think if they were to drive
by while you were doing the like of that on a public road? Come on with
me, and let's leave the young folks to themselves.”
Grumblingly Porter obeyed. His wife walked briskly and made him keep
pace with her, and they were soon several yards ahead of the young
couple. Hillhouse was silent for several minutes, and his smooth-shaven
face was quite serious in expression.
“I'm afraid I'm going to bore you on that same old line, Miss Cynthia,”
he said, presently. “Really, I can't well help it. This morning I
fancied you listened attentively to what I was saying.”
“Oh, yes, I always do that,” the girl returned, with an almost
perceptible shudder of her shoulders.
“It helped me wonderfully, Miss Cynthia, and once a hope actually
flashed through me so strong that I lost my place. You may have seen
me turning the pages of the Bible. I was trying to think where I'd left
off. The hope was this: that some day if I keep on begging you, and
showing my deep respect and regard, you will not turn me away. Just for
one minute this morning it seemed to me that you had actually consented,
and--and the thought was too much for me.”
“Oh, don't say any more about it, Mr. Hillhouse,” Cynthia pleaded,
giving him a full look from her wonderful brown eyes. “I have already
said as much as I can on that subject.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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