The Brown Study | Page 5

He's so nearly human he understands at this moment
that you don't think him handsome. Never mind! We're used to it, aren't
we, Bim? Come over and take this chair, Sue. Are you cold? Would
you like something hot? Tea--or coffee?"
She sat in the chair he drew to the fire for her. As he looked at his
sister's charming, youthful face, and saw her sitting there in her
handsome street dress with its various little indications of wealth and
fashion--the gold-meshed purse on its slender chain, the rare jewel in
the brooch at the throat, the flashing rings on the white hands--he drew
in his breath in an incredulous little whistle.
"Is it really you, Sis?" he said. "You look pretty good to me, do you
know, sitting there in my old chair!"
She glanced at the arm of the old rocker, worn smooth by the rubbing
of many hands.
"Why do you have such a chair?" she answered impatiently--or so it
sounded. "Why in the world, if you must live in a hovel like this, don't
you make yourself comfortable? Send home for some easy chairs, and
rugs and pictures." Her eye wandered about the room. "And a decent
desk--and--and--a well-bred dog!"
He laughed. "A better bred dog, in one sense, than Bim you couldn't
find. His manners are finer than those of most men. And as for this
being a hovel, you do it injustice. It was built at the beginning of the
last century by a titled Englishman, who used it for an office on his
estate. Look at the big oak beams. Look at the floor, the doors, the
fireplace. It's a distinguished little old house, Sue. Admit it!"
She shook her head. "I'll admit nothing, except that you are the most
eccentric fellow who ever lived, to come off here and stay all by
yourself, when you've been the idol of a congregation like St.
Timothy's--and might still be their idol, if you would take just a little
more assistance and not kill yourself with work. I've no patience with
you, Don!"

He did not reply to this. Instead, he asked again gently, "Shall it be tea
or coffee, Sue?" He stood in the doorway which led to the kitchen and
added, as she hesitated, that he could give her an excellent brand of
either. "Coffee, then," she chose, and sat staring into the fire until her
brother returned with his earthenware pot and the other essentials for
the brewing of coffee, all set forth on a small tray. When, presently, he
offered her a fragrant cup, she drank it eagerly.
"That is good," she declared. "I didn't know you could cook. When did
you learn?"
"On my vacations in the woods. The guides taught me. LaFitte was a
wonderful cook--with certain limitations. I've picked up a few other
tricks as well. Would you like something to eat?"
"No, thank you."
She had studied him with attention as he knelt before the fire, noting
every detail of his appearance. She now put a question which she had
reserved.
"Just how well are you now?"
He looked up. "Don't I look well enough to satisfy you?"
"I can't tell. You are frightfully thin--"
"I never was anything else."
"Do you think this sort of thing is doing as much to make you well as
Doctor Brainard's prescription of a voyage and stay in the South Seas?"
"Much more."
"You must be dreadfully lonely."
He was sitting, Turk fashion, on the hearth-rug before her, his long legs
crossed beneath him, his hands clasping his knees. With the firelight
playing over his face and touching the thrown-back chestnut locks of
his heavy hair with high lights here and there, he looked decidedly
boyish. At her suggestion of his probable loneliness he smiled and
glanced at Bim.
"Bim," said he, addressing a curled-up mass of rough brown hair from
which looked out two watchful brown eyes, and which responded
instantly to the name by resolving itself into an approaching dog, "are
we ever lonely? Rarely, Sue. As a matter of fact, we have a good many
callers, first and last."
"What sort of callers?"
"Neighbours, and friends."

"You are in a horribly poor locality. I noticed as I came through. Do
you mean that you encourage these people to come to see you?"
"We use all the drawing powers we have, Bim and I."
"Do you mean to say," said she, bending forward, "that you are
conducting a _mission_--here, in this place? When you ought to be just
trying to get well? Oh, what would Doctor Brainard say?" Her tone was
full of consternation.
Brown threw back his head and laughed, a big, hearty laugh which did
not sound at all like that of an invalid.
"Brainard seems to be