The Magic Egg, and Other StoriesStockton, Frank R.
Science
The Magic Egg, and Other Stories
Stockton, Frank R.
Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"It seemed strange to Mrs. Vincent and myself," he said, "when we first
noticed your extraordinary attachment for our daughter, but, after all,
it was natural enough."
"Noticed it!" I exclaimed. "When did you do that?"
"Very soon," he said. "When you and Cora were cataloguing the books at
my house in town I noticed it and spoke to Mrs. Vincent, but she said
it was nothing new to her, for it was plain enough on the day when we
first met you here that you were letting the house to Cora, and that
she had not spoken of it to me because she was afraid I might think it
wrong to accept the favorable and unusual arrangements you were making
with us if I suspected the reason for them. We talked over the matter,
but, of course, we could do nothing, because there was nothing to do,
and Mrs. Vincent was quite sure you would write to us from Europe. But
when my man Ambrose told me he had seen some one working about the
place in the very early morning, and that, as it was a gentleman, he
supposed it must be the landlord, for nobody else would be doing such
things, Mrs. Vincent and I looked out of the window the next day, and
when we found it was indeed you who were coming here every day, we felt
that the matter was serious and were a good deal troubled. We found,
however, that you were conducting affairs in a very honorable
way,--that you were not endeavoring to see Cora, and that you did not
try to have any secret correspondence with her,--and as we had no right
to prevent you from coming on your grounds, we concluded to remain
quiet until you should take some step which we would be authorized to
notice. Later, when Mr. Barker came and told me that you had not gone
to Europe, and were living with a miller not far from here--"
"Barker!" I cried. "The scoundrel!"
"You are mistaken, sir," said Mr. Vincent. "He spoke with the greatest
kindness of you, and said that as it was evident you had your own
reasons for wishing to stay in the neighborhood, and did not wish the
fact to be known, he had spoken of it to no one but me, and he would
not have done this had he not thought it would prevent embarrassment in
case we should meet."
Would that everlasting Barker ever cease meddling in my affairs?
"Do you suppose," I asked, "that he imagined the reason for my staying
here?"
"I do not know," said the old gentleman, "but after the questions I put
to him I have no doubt he suspected it. I made many inquiries of him
regarding you, your family, habits, and disposition, for this was a
very vital matter to me, sir, and I am happy to inform you that he said
nothing of you that was not good, so I urged him to keep the matter to
himself. I determined, however, that if you continued your morning
visits I should take an early opportunity of accosting you and asking
an explanation."
"And you never mentioned anything of this to your daughter?" said I.
"Oh, no," he answered. "We carefully kept everything from her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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