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Then, step by step, he followed his career in Brookville: his smug satisfaction in his own good looks; his shallow pride and vanity over the vapid insincerities he had perpetrated Sunday after Sunday in the shabby pulpit of the Brookville church; his Pharisaical relations with his people; his utter misunderstanding of their needs.
The whole world is sliding down hill faster and faster every minute, and folks in Brookville think matters are going to improve, when they are sliding right along with the Emperor of Germany and the King of England, and all the rest of the big bugs. I can't figure it out, but in some queer, outlandish way that war over there has made it so folks in Brookville can't pay their minister's salary.
And so they passed the windowed fronts of the village houses, peering out from the dripping autumnal foliage like so many watchful eyes, till the hoarse signal of a motor car halted them, as they were about to cross the street in front of the Brookville House. From the open door of the car Lydia Orr's pale face looked out. "Oh, father," she said. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"
The next day we started "on the march" at seven and a half A.M., marching steadily until three P.M., when we halted, being about a mile and a half from Brookville, and having made fourteen miles. September 12th we commenced marching at seven A.M. and marched to Mount Lebanon, a distance of fourteen miles. It was an extremely hot day.
"I guess I'm a fool," he grumbled; "but there's something about the whole business I don't like.... Have some of this apple sauce, Fan?" The girl passed her plate for a spoonful of the thick compound, and in return shoved the home-dried beef toward her brother. "I don't see anything queer about it," she replied dully. "I suppose a person with money might come to Brookville and want to buy a house.
"You must have known something about her, Phoebe," put in Mrs. Fulsom. "I don't care what anybody says to the contrary, there's something queer in a young girl, like her, coming to a strange place, like Brookville, and doing all the things she's done. It ain't natural: and that's what I told the Judge when he was considering the new waterworks.
Lydia Orr had encountered that look before, on the faces of men and even of boys. Everybody was afraid of being cheated, she thought. Was this just in Brookville, and because of the misdeeds of one man, so long ago? "Of course we shall have to talk it over some other day, when we have more time," she said gently. "Wouldn't that be nice!" said Mrs. Daggett.
Dale go to Brookville, show up Warner, and apply for your guardianship." "Yes, then I would feel safe," said Dave. "Well, Mr. Dale, having been an old balloonist, would probably not object to your remaining in the same line of business in which your father was famous." "I should think he would be pleased," remarked Hiram, who was always interested and active in any conversation going on.
Behind the closed shutters of the village houses, women fanned themselves in the intervals of labor over superheated cookstoves. Men consulted their thermometers with incredulous eyes. Springs reputed to be unfailing gradually ceased their cool trickle. Wells and cisterns yielded little save the hollow sound of the questing bucket. There was serious talk of a water famine in Brookville.
Josie, you are beginning to disgrace a fellow already," cried Herbert, alternating the words with genuine laughter. "Auntie will be weeping and wailing my absence. Poor old soul; she don't deserve it, but I couldn't stay. Good gracious, there would have been the expense of a funeral, and I'm sure that's something to consider up in Brookville." Mr.
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