There's lots of good folks in this town, lots of 'em.Cap'n Elisha Warren's one of 'em and there's plenty more.They're countrymen, same as I am, but they're good, plain, sensible folks, and they'd like to like you if they had a chance.You belong to the Town Improvement Society, but you never go to a meeting.You ought to get out and mix more."I shrugged my shoulders."I guess my mixing wouldn't be very welcome," I said."And, besides, I don't care to mix.""I know you don't, but you ought to, just the same.""Nonsense! George, I'm not blind, or deaf.Don't you suppose Iknow what Warren and Dean and the rest think of me? They consider me a loafer and no good.I've heard what they say.I've noticed how they treat me.""How you treat them, you mean.You are as cold and freezing as a cake of ice.They was willing to be friends but you wouldn't have it.And, as for their calling you a loafer--well, that's your own fault, too.You OUGHT to do something; not work, perhaps, but you'd be a whole lot better off if you got really interested in something.Get into politics; get into town affairs; get out and know the people you're living with.""I don't care to know them; and I'm sure they don't care to know me.""Yes, they do.I understand how you feel.In this Shore Lane matter now: you think Cap'n Jed and Colton, because they pretend to call you a fool, don't respect you for taking the stand you have.
They do.They don't understand you, maybe, but they can't help respecting you and, if they knew you even as well as I do, they'd like you.Come! I ain't throwin' any bouquets, but why do you suppose I'd be willing to drive to West Denboro forty times over, on forty times worse nights than this, for you? Why?""Heaven knows! Would you?"
"I would.I like you, Ros.I took a shine to you the first time Imet you.I don't know why exactly.Why does anybody like anybody else? But I think a whole lot of you.I know this sounds foolish, and you don't feel that way towards me, but it's the truth."I was amazed.I had always liked George Taylor, but I never felt any strong affection for him.I was a little less indifferent to him than to others in Denboro, that was all.And I had taken it for granted that his liking for me was of the same casual, lukewarm variety.To hear him declare himself in this way was astonishing--he, the dry, keen, Yankee banker.
"But why, George?" I repeated.
"I don't know why; I told you that.It's because I can't help it, I suppose.Or because, as I said, I know you better than any one else."I sighed."Nobody knows me here," I said.
"One knows you, Ros.I know you."
"You may think you do, but you don't.You can thank God for your ignorance.""Maybe I ain't so ignorant."
I looked at him.He was looking me straight in the eye.
"What do you know?" I asked, slowly.
"I know, for one thing, that your name ain't Paine."I could not answer.I am not certain whether I attempted to speak or move.I do remember that the pressure of his hand on my knee tightened.
"It's all right, Ros," he said, earnestly."Nobody knows but me, and nobody ever shall know if I can help it.""How--how much do you know?" I stammered.
"Why, pretty much all, I guess.I've known ever since your mother was taken sick.Some things I read in the paper, and the pictures of--of your father, put me on, and afterwards I got more certain of it.But it's all right.Nobody but me knows or shall know."I leaned my head on my hand.He patted my knee, gently.
"Are--are you sure no one else knows?" I asked.
"Certain sure.There was one time when it might have all come out.
A reporter fellow from one of the Boston papers got on the track somehow and came down here to investigate.Luckily I was the first man he tackled, and I steered him away.I presume likely I lied some, but my conscience is easy so far as that goes.""And you have told no one? Not even Nellie?""No.I tell Nellie most things, but not all--not all."I remembered afterwards that he sighed as he said this and took his hand from my knee; but then my agitation was too great to do more than casually notice it.I rose to my feet.
"George! George!" I cried."I--I can't say to you what I should like.But why--WHY did you shield me? And lie for me? Why did you do it? I was hardly more than a stranger."He sighed."Don't know," he answered."I never could quite see why a man's sins should be visited on the widows and fatherless.
And, of course, I realized that you and your mother changed your name and came down here to get away from gossip and talk.But Iguess the real reason was that I liked you, Ros.Love at first sight, same as we read about; hey?"He looked up and smiled.I seized his hand.
"George," I said, chokingly, "I did not believe I had a real friend in the world, except Mother and Dorinda and Lute, of course.Ican't thank you enough for shielding us all these years; there's no use in my trying.But if ever I can do anything to help YOU--anything--I'll do it.I'll swear to that."He shook my hand.
"I know you will, Ros," he said."I told you I knew you.""If ever I can do anything--"
He interrupted me.
"There's one thing you can do right now," he said."That's get out and mix.That'll please me as much as anything.And begin right off.Why, see here, the Methodist society is going to give a strawberry festival on the meeting-house lawn next Thursday night.
About everybody's going, Nellie and I included.You come, will you?"I hesitated.I had heard about the festival, but I certainly had not contemplated attending.
"Come!" he urged."You won't say no to the first favor I ask you.
Promise me you'll be on hand."
Before I could answer, we heard the door of Mother's room open.
George and I hastened into the dining-room.Doctor Quimby and Nellie Dean were there.Nellie rushed over to her lover's side.
"You bad boy," she cried."You're wet through."Doctor Quimby turned to me.
"Your ma's getting on all right," he declared."About all that ails her now is that she wants to see you."George was assisting Nellie to put on her wraps.
"Got to leave you now, Ros," he said."Cap'n Jed and Matildy'll think we've eloped ahead of time.Good-night.Oh, say, will you promise me to take in the strawberry festival?""Why" I answered, "I suppose-- Yes, Mother, I'm coming-- Why, yes, George, I'll promise, to please you."I have often wondered since what my life story would have been if Ihad not made that promise.
