Snow-Blind | Page 4

sat down abruptly on a chair,
pulled in her chin like an unhappy child; her bosom lifted as though a
sob would force its way out.
"If he doesn't come back!" she murmured. "If he doesn't come back!"
She was speaking to God.

CHAPTER II
Pete blinked, swallowed hard and began to talk fast and hopefully.
"He'll come back. I don't believe he'll get halfway there, Bella," he
reassured the woman. "He'll come to his senses. You know how moody
he is. Come over here and doctor up my ankle, please. 'Make a fuss
over me, Bell.' Isn't that what I used to say?"
He coaxed until at last she came and knelt before him and removed his
moccasin and heavy woolen sock. The strong white foot was like
marble, but the ankle was swollen and discolored. Bella clicked her
tongue. "He is a brute, you know!" She laughed shortly. Since Garth's
departure she had become almost a human being. The deaf-mute look
had melted from her, and a sardonic humor emerged; her eyes cleared;
she could even smile. "Why do we care so much for him, Pete--the two
of us?"

Pete winced under her touch and puckered his brows. "Because he's
such a kid, I guess. He's always fretting after the moon."
"Don't you ever get angry with him, Pete? He does treat you shameful
sometimes."
"N-no. Not often. He's always sorry and ashamed afterward. He'd like
to be as kind as God. I believe if he could only fool us into thinking he
was God, he could act like Him--ouch, Bella! Go easy."
"You're an awful smart boy, Pete. It's a sin you've never had any
schooling."
"Schooling! Gosh! I've had all the schooling I could digest. Hugh beat
it into me. He's taught me all he had in his head and a whole lot he
never ought to have had there, I guess. But _you've_ taught me most,
Bella--that's the truth of it."
"Me! I never knew anything. They saw to that. They never did anything
for me at home but abuse me. Hugh Garth was the only relation I ever
had in the world that spoke kind to me. Remember how I used to run
over from my folks to tuck you into bed in your little room above the
shop, Pete? No, you were too little."
"Of course, I remember," the boy replied. "The ankle's fine now, Bella.
Let up. I can't stand that rubbing. Let me stick the foot up on another
chair. There--that's great. It doesn't hurt near so bad now. I remember
Hugh's bookshop; yes, I do--honest! I remember sitting on the ladder
and listening to him talk to the students when they came in. He always
was a gorgeous talker, Bella. They used to stand around and listen to
his yarns like kids to a fairy story. Just the same as you and I do
now--when we can get him into a good humor. But, you know, he used
to like strangers best--to talk to, I mean."
Bella assented, bitterly. She had begun to clear the table of its almost
untouched meal. "Because he could put it over better with a stranger. It
isn't the truth Hugh likes--about himself, or others."

Pete had begun to whittle a piece of wood. He was a charming figure,
slouching down in his chair, slim and graceful, his shapely golden head
ruffled, his chin pressed against his chest. His expression was
indescribably sweet and boyish, the shadow of anxiety and pain
accentuating a wistful if determined cheerfulness. He was deliberately
entertaining Bella, diverting her mind from its agony of apprehension.
She saw through him, but like a sick child she took the entertainment
languidly.
"Now, _you're_ too dead bent on the truth, Bella. You know you are.
You're a regular bear for the truth."
"I can't see anything else," she said gloomily. "Things are just so to
me--no blinking them."
He put his head a little to one side and contemplated her. "What do you
see when you look into the water-bucket, Bella?"
"The water-bucket?" She flushed. "Just because you caught me
prinking that once!"
"Well, if you had a mirror, what would you see in it, then?"
"An ugly old woman, Pete."
"There! Your mind's just the wrong-side-out of Hugh's. He won't see
himself ugly, and you won't see yourself pretty. I'm the only sane
fellow in this house."
"And you never in your life saw a pretty woman to remember her.
Besides, you're too young." She said it with a tart sweetness and
vanished into the kitchen.
With her departure Pete's whittling ceased, his hands fell slack and he
began to stare out through the snow-walled window. His anxiety for
Hugh slipped imperceptibly into a vague pondering over his own
youthfulness. That's what those