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His teeth chattered louder, and for the life of him he could not control an audible sound, half sob, half sigh. But Jude was evidently as much overpowered as Billy, for the boy suddenly heard him emit an oath, and then a volley of questions designed to clear the air after Jared's storm of eloquence. "She'll come, all right." Jared had his answers ready.
I went to your father's this evening to have it out, but you wasn't there. I met Jock Filmer in the Long Medder and he told me where you was, and why. Your father had aired his affair in the tavern." Joyce clasped her cold fingers nervously. There was nothing for her to do but wait Jude's pleasure. Leon had not been able to overpower Jared's personality evidently. "I saw you go to Mr.
Hill, the vice-president, and Mr. Dale, the chairman of the finance committee, had taken the other side. They had both been country boys one from Ogle County, the other from the ague belt of Indiana and their hearts warmed to Jared's display over on Broad Street. Their eyes filled, their breasts heaved, their gullets gulped, their rustic boyhood was with them poignantly once more.
"Put a good price on a thing if you expect people to look at it. Never mind about Tim," he called, reminded by Jared's emphasis that the "house-room" was not for this painting, but for another. "Well, you get your picture round here to-morrow, and I'll have it put in the writing-room or somewhere." And he turned toward a new arrival bent over the register.
Her directness, and the slight she paid to his personal reflections, ruffled Jared's complacency. He was not ready to confess more than was absolutely necessary. "Just one of them misunderstandings," he replied, slipping into St. Angé's carelessness of speech, "that happens now and again to any young man with a fine taste and slim purse. A matter of business!
Jared Stiles's "Golden Autumn," handled and framed in his usual manner, and "valued at" ten thousand dollars none of Jared's larger pieces now falls below that figure will soon go trailing, exhibitionwise, through the halls of the Eastern seaboard. But it is an error to assert that the name of the painting was suggested by the Rev. William S. Gowdy.
Bogle and he were second cousins. Cicero Bray objected to this as not relevant; C. Fox Faddle insisted that it was relevant, and after some arguing and sparring, the justice ruled it out. Then Mr. Nixon said, "on Simon's having expressed to me a suspicion that Jared had taken the chain, I went with him to Jared's house and found the chain which you see before you."
For some reason she always felt more ashamed of him then than at any other time. "You've got a nasty bit of a temper, Joyce." Jared's eye gleamed. "I hope you ain't going to take the first chance you get to shirk your duty to me." "I guess not, father, but I hate to be dragged to my duty; and I have a headache." "What give you that, Joyce?" "I don't know."
He had given, given, given to her of his best and purest. God! how he had given. He had cast a glamour over her crudeness by his power and goodness, but underneath was Jared's daughter and Jude's wife. If he took her courageously back to his world they, those others like, yet unlike him, would see easily through the disguise, and would be quick enough to make both him and her feel it.
And now, by the impish words of Falstar's Billy, he was brought face to face with a possibility that staggered and unnerved him. Joyce and Jude, or Joyce and Jock Filmer, had been possibilities in Jared's distant future.
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