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"Well," returned his daughter, glancing at Helen, who stood apart, reading the telegram to Fisbee, "I know if he follows Mr. Harkless he'll get here pretty soon after supper as soon as the moon comes up, anyway." The editor of the "Herald" was late to his supper that evening.
Fisbee to the invalid, for, although the connection was distant, the old man was, in a way, the family skeleton, and Meredith had a strong sense of the decency of reserve in such a matter.
"Ah, Fisbee," murmured the editor, reproachfully, "that new sign-board is almost the only improvement in the World of Business Plattville has seen this year.
The old man might have told a part of his history long ago, but it had never occurred to him to talk about his affairs things had a habit of not occurring to Fisbee and the efforts of the gossips to draw him out always passed over his serene and absent head.
Helen sat by the window, blushing, and talking eagerly to old Fisbee. One of the gentlemen from Gaines County was walking about the room exclaiming, "A glorious conception! A glorious conception!" addressing the bric-a-brac, apparently.
Fisbee had not known of the decorations, and, as his glance fell upon them, a faint look of pain passed over his brow; but the girl examined the room with a dancing eye, and there were both tears and laughter in her heart. "How beautiful!" she cried. "How beautiful!" She crossed the room and gave her hand to Ross. "It is Mr. Schofield, isn't it? The ribbons are delightful. I didn't know Mr.
Martin remarked rather publicly that the items were not what you might call stirring, and that the unpatented pages put him in mind of Jones's field in winter with a dozen chunks of coal dropped in the snow. Indeed, Mr. Fisbee, Parker, the luckless Mr.
Fisbee, can you step here a second?" "Yes, indeed!" was Fisbee's reply; and he fled guiltily into the "store-room," and Parker closed the door. They stood knee-deep in the clutter and lumber, facing each other abjectly. "Well, we're both done, anyway, Mr. Fisbee," remarked the foreman. "Indubitably, Mr. Parker," the old man answered; "it is too true."
Then Harkless turned his face from the wall and spoke through his teeth: "I mean to see H. Fisbee before many days; I want to talk to him!" But, though he tossed and fretted himself into what the doctor pronounced a decidedly improved state, no answer came to either telegram that day or night.
However, she seemed to attach no particular importance to it, and, instead of opening it, leaned toward him, still holding one of his hands. "These awful old men!" Harkless groaned inwardly as he handed the horses over to the judge. "I dare say he'll kiss her, too." But, when the editor and Mr. Willetts had gone, it was Helen who kissed Fisbee.
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