That evening, about nine, he crossed the yard and knocked at the back door of the little house.Mrs.Armstrong answered the knock;Barbara, of course, was in bed and asleep.Ruth was surprised to see her landlord at that, for him, late hour.Also, remembering the unceremonious way in which he had permitted her to depart at the end of their interview that forenoon, she was not as cordial as usual.She had made him her confidant, why she scarcely knew;then, after expressing great interest and sympathy, he had suddenly seemed to lose interest in the whole matter.She was acquainted with his eccentricities and fits of absent-mindedness, but nevertheless she had been hurt and offended.She told herself that she should have expected nothing more from "Shavings" Winslow, the person about whom two-thirds of Orham joked and told stories, but the fact remained that she was disappointed.And she was angry, not so much with him perhaps, as with herself.WHY had she been so foolish as to tell any one of their humiliation?
So when Jed appeared at the back door she received him rather coldly.He was quite conscious of the change in temperature, but he made no comment and offered no explanation.Instead he told his story, the story of his interview with Captain Hunniwell.As he told it her face showed at first interest, then hope, and at the last radiant excitement.She clasped her hands and leaned toward him, her eyes shining.
"Oh, Mr.Winslow," she cried, breathlessly, "do you mean it? Do you really believe Captain Hunniwell will give my brother a position in his bank?"Jed nodded slowly."Yes," he said, "I think likely he might.
Course 'twouldn't be any great of a place, not at first--nor ever, I cal'late, so far as that goes.'Tain't a very big bank and wages ain't--"But she interrupted."But that doesn't make any difference," she cried."Don't you see it doesn't! The salary and all that won't count--now.It will be a start for Charles, an opportunity for him to feel that he is a man again, doing a man's work, an honest man's work.And he will be here where I can be with him, where we can be together, where it won't be so hard for us to be poor and where there will be no one who knows us, who knows our story.Oh, Mr.
Winslow, is it really true? If it is, how--how can we ever thank you? How can I ever show you how grateful I feel?"Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted and joy shone in her eager eyes.Her voice broke a little as she uttered the words.Jed looked at her and then quickly looked away.
"I--I--don't talk so, Mrs.Armstrong," he pleaded, hastily."It--it ain't anything, it ain't really.It just--""Not anything? Not anything to find my brother the opportunity he and I have been praying for? To give me the opportunity of having him with me? Isn't that anything? It is everything.Oh, Mr.
Winslow, if you can do this for us--"
"Shsh! Sshh! Now, Mrs.Armstrong, please.You mustn't say I'm doin' it for you.I'm the one that just happened to think of it, that's all.You could have done it just as well, if you'd thought of it.""Perhaps," with a doubtful smile, "but I should never have thought of it.You did because you were thinking for me--for my brother and me.And--and I thought you didn't care.""Eh?...Didn't care?"
"Yes.When I left you at the shop this morning after our talk.
You were so--so odd.You didn't speak, or offer to advise me as Ihad asked you to; you didn't even say good-by.You just sat there and let me go.And I didn't understand and--"Jed put up a hand.His face was a picture of distress.
"Dear, dear, dear!" he exclaimed."Did I do that? I don't remember it, but of course I did if you say so.Now what on earth possessed me to?...Eh?" as the idea occurred to him."Tell me, was I singin'?""Why, yes, you were.That is, you were--were--""Makin' a noise as if I'd swallowed a hymn book and one of the tunes was chokin' me to death? Um-hm, that's the way I sing.And I was singin' when you left me, eh? That means I was thinkin'
about somethin'.I told Babbie once, and it's the truth, that thinkin' was a big job with me and when I did it I had to drop everything else, come up into the wind like a schooner, you know, and just lay to and think....Oh, I remember now! You said somethin' about your brother's workin' in a bank and that set me thinkin' that Sam must be needin' somebody by this time in Lute Small's place.""You didn't know he needed any one?"
"No-o, not exactly; but I knew Lute, and that amounted to the same thing.Mrs.Armstrong, I do hope you'll forgive me for--for singin' and--and all the rest of my foolish actions.""Forgive you! Will you forgive me for misjudging you?""Land sakes, don't talk that way.But there's one thing I haven't said yet and you may not like it.I guess you and your brother'll have to go to Sam and tell him the whole story."Her expression changed."The whole story?" she repeated."Why, what do you mean? Tell him that Charles has been in--in prison?
You don't mean THAT?"
