Julia The Apostate | Page 5

to a big hotel, and it was
dress-suits for me and diamonds for her, and we drove in a carriage in
the park in the afternoon. She liked it, but I soon got enough. I don't
care much for that sort of thing. She wanted to go to the theatre and see
the girls that she'd been one of, you see, from the other side of the
curtain. And she saw a man there she used to know, and--well, it turned
out she liked him better, that's all."
"Oh, Cousin Lorando, how terrible--for her!"
"Um, yes. She didn't think it was specially terrible, I guess, though. She
just packed up and went."
"Went?"
"Yes--with him, you see. Diamonds and all. I got a divorce, of course.
And she wasn't such a bad lot, after all, for he hadn't any money to
speak of, compared to me. It was the man she wanted. Well, she got
him."
"How awful!" Miss Trueman murmured.

"Oh, yes, I felt pretty sick for a while. But we hadn't been any too
happy before she saw him, you see. It was a big mistake. She wasn't
exactly the kind of woman you'd be apt to know, you see. So perhaps I
got off easier than I deserved. But I never would have married while
she was alive. Not but what I had a right to, you understand, but I guess
I'm old-fashioned more ways than one. I read about her death a year or
so ago. I don't believe she had any too good a time herself. She had an
awful temper. But she certainly did have pretty hair," he concluded
thoughtfully.
Miss Trueman gasped.
"So I didn't want to see New York again; I just hated the place. And
this time I only came because I found out you and the girls were here,
and you were about all there was left. People die so. And I wanted to
find out about the old place. I wanted to buy it, if I could, when I
thought it was sold."
"But, Cousin Lorando, I couldn't sell it!"
"Oh, no, I s'pose not. Still, I might buy out the girls' thirds and rent
yours, couldn't I? I'd pay you as much and more than anybody else
would, I guess. And you could keep your interest. And keep half of the
house, for that matter, to use when you wanted--it's big enough."
"Why, yes, I don't see why I couldn't do that," she said thoughtfully.
"That would be nice."
"You see, I'm willing to make any arrangement, Cousin Jule. It's about
all there is that I'm fond of now, that old place. I haven't any folks of
my own, and not a chick nor child, and I love every stick and stone of
that farm. I love the country, and I love Connecticut country best of all,
I don't care if it is rocky. You can't make farming pay in New England
any more. But I don't need to make it pay; I'm willing to pay for the
pleasure of it. And I want to do something for the town, too. I want 'em
to be glad I came to settle there. Who's got the keys?"
"I have, right here," she answered. "The furniture is all ours, you see;

they haven't brought much, only they've changed things all around. I
haven't renewed the lease yet for this year."
"Well, now, look here, Jule," Mr. Bean cried eagerly, dropping the end
of his cigar into a bonbon-dish on the little side-table, "why don't you
run right up there with me to-night, and we'll look it all over and sort of
plan it out? We can go up on the six-thirty, and get there by half-past
ten, and stop at the hotel, and be there all ready to look it over
to-morrow. Now, how's that?"
"Why, but, Cousin Lorando--I--there isn't time--I hadn't planned--"
"Lord, neither had I, but what's the difference? If you want a thing done,
go and do it yourself. Wouldn't you like to go? It's lovely up there; the
spring's coming on fast, you know. I got lots of pussy-willow, and
some little fellows told me there were May-flowers somewhere. You'll
see more grass in a minute there than you can hunt up here in a week.
Come on, Cousin Jule!"
"I believe I will!" said Miss True-man, with conviction.
"Just pack up a bag for your aunt, Carrie, while I get a cab," said Mr.
Bean from the doorway. "We're going up to the old place--I'm thinking
of buying it. I expect we'll be back tomorrow."
"Your cousin appears to be a person of decision," Mrs. Ranger
suggested to the still dazed Elise, as the cab rolled away.
"I don't understand Aunt Ju-ju at all," Carolyn interpolated crossly.