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To-morrow, next month, in good time, I shall know what that is." "It puts out of the question a career, personal ambition." "Yes," he answered quickly. "And could you do that? Could you care for a man who will have no career, who has no 'future'?" Sommers's voice had taken a new tone of earnestness, unlike the sober speculation in which they had been indulging.
Miss Hitchcock seemed to be talking very fast, and her head was turned toward his face. Miss Hitchcock was answering Sommers's inquiries about Colonel and Mrs. Hitchcock. The latter had died over a year ago, and Colonel Hitchcock had been in poor health. "He has some bitter disappointments," Miss Hitchcock said gravely. "His useful, honorable, unselfish life is closing sadly.
"May I offer my congratulations?" she said, turning to him with the smile that Sommers's remark had caused still on her lips. The young man simpered, uttered the requisite platitude, and moved away. "Did you congratulate him on the Polot connection or on the girl?" the young doctor asked. "You don't know Estelle Polot! She is impossible. But Burton Stewart has got just what he wanted.
"Don't mind a hair or two in the butter, this time, Si. I kin believe your mother is a good buttermaker. It's the best I ever tasted." "Well, the butter and the honey may be spiled," said Si, "but the other things are all right. My, ain't this a nice shirt. And them socks. Shorty, did you ever see such socks. Ever so much obliged to you, Pap, for these boots. Old Hank Sommers's make.
Even Sommers's attitude in the frank talk the two men had about the marriage offended the old merchant. Sommers had met his distant references to money matters by saying bluntly that he and Louise had decided it would be best for them not to be the beneficiaries of Colonel Hitchcock's wealth to any large extent.
He was the one man of all the world to her, and no calculating "if" would be the source of her restraint. True to her old tactics, however, she had spent no time in idle dreaming. She had cultivated Dr. Sommers's acquaintance, and he had already accompanied her and her sister through a wild valley, on the occasion of a visit to one of his patients. Little Jack had improved under his care, and Mrs.
Hester Sommers's portrait had been a true one tall, handsome, strong; and even in the haggard, worn, and profoundly sad face, there shone a little of the "sweetness" which his daughter had emphasised. There were also the large grey eyes, the Roman nose, the iron-grey hair, moustache, and beard, and the large mouth, although the "smile" had fled from the face and the "lovingness" from the eyes.
Miss M'Gann accepted impartially the advances of both young men, attending church with one and the theatre with the other. The five spent many evenings in Sommers's room, discussing aimlessly social questions, while the doctor worked at the anatomy slides. Dresser's debauch of revolt seemed to have sobered him.
He used to be quite sweet on you in the old days when your brother was at the seminary." "Yes, I remember Guy," Alves answered hurriedly. She seemed conscious of Sommers's bored gaze. The young priest accompanied them along the dusty road. "Guy'll be glad to see you again. He's become quite a man out in Painted Post, Nebraska owns pretty much the whole place "
There's nothing else for us to do but plod toward home, where Tilly is." Regret was more general and sincere than is usual when the transient associations of a resort are broken. Dr. Sommers's visage could not lengthen literally, and yet it approached as nearly to a funereal aspect as was possible. He brightened up, however, when Madge slipped something into his hand "for the chapel."
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