The Lady of the Aroostook | Page 5

were gaunt, bold-faced young girls who
strolled up and down the pavements, bonnetless and hatless, and
chatted into the windows, and joked with other such girls whom they
met. Suddenly a wild outcry rose from the swarming children up one of
the intersecting streets, where a woman was beating a small boy over

the head with a heavy stick: the boy fell howling and writhing to the
ground, and the cruel blows still rained upon him, till another woman
darted from an open door and caught the child up with one hand, and
with the other wrenched the stick away and flung it into the street. No
words passed, and there was nothing to show whose child the victim
was; the first woman walked off, and while the boy rubbed his head
and arms, and screamed with the pain, the other children, whose sports
had been scarcely interrupted, were shouting and laughing all about
him again.
"Grandfather," said Lydia faintly, "let us go down here, and rest a
moment in the shade. I'm almost worn out." She pointed to the open
and quiet space at the side of the lofty granite warehouse which they
had reached.
"Well, I guess I'll set down a minute, too," said her grandfather.
"Lyddy," he added, as they released their aching arms from their bags
and bundles, and sank upon the broad threshold of a door which
seemed to have been shut ever since the decay of the India trade, "I
don't believe but what it would have be'n about as cheap in the end to
come down in a hack. But I acted for what I thought was the best. I
supposed we'd be'n there before now, and the idea of givin' a dollar for
ridin' about ten minutes did seem sinful. I ain't noways afraid the ship
will sail without you. Don't you fret any. I don't seem to know rightly
just where I am, but after we've rested a spell I'll leave you here, and
inquire round. It's a real quiet place, and I guess your things will be
safe."
He took off his straw hat and fanned his face with it, while Lydia
leaned her head against the door frame and closed her eyes. Presently
she heard the trampling of feet going by, but she did not open her eyes
till the feet paused in a hesitating way, and a voice asked her
grandfather, in the firm, neat tone which she had heard summer
boarders from Boston use, "Is the young lady ill?" She now looked up,
and blushed like fire to see two handsome young men regarding her
with frank compassion.
"No," said her grandfather; "a little beat out, that's all. We've been
trying to find Lucas Wharf, and we don't seem somehow just to hit on
it."
"This is Lucas Wharf," said the young man. He made an instinctive

gesture of salutation toward his hat, with the hand in which he held a
cigar; he put the cigar into his mouth as he turned from them, and the
smoke drifted fragrantly back to Lydia as he tramped steadily and
strongly on down the wharf, shoulder to shoulder with his companion.
"Well, I declare for't, so it is," said her grandfather, getting stiffly to his
feet and retiring a few paces to gain a view of the building at the base
of which they had been sitting. "Why, I might known it by this buildin'!
But where's the Aroostook, if this is Lucas Wharf?" He looked
wistfully in the direction the young men had taken, but they were
already too far to call after.
"Grandfather," said the girl, "do I look pale?"
"Well, you don't now," answered the old man, simply. "You've got a
good color now."
"What right had he," she demanded, "to speak to you about me?"
"I d'know but what you did look rather pale, as you set there with your
head leaned back. I d'know as I noticed much."
"He took us for two beggars,--two tramps!" she exclaimed, "sitting here
with our bundles scattered round us!"
The old man did not respond to this conjecture; it probably involved
matters beyond his emotional reach, though he might have understood
them when he was younger. He stood a moment with his mouth
puckered to a whistle, but made no sound, and retired a step or two
farther from the building and looked up at it again. Then he went
toward the dock and looked down into its turbid waters, and returned
again with a face of hopeless perplexity. "This is Lucas Wharf, and no
mistake," he said. "I know the place first-rate, now. But what I can't
make out is, What's got the Aroostook?"
A man turned the corner of the warehouse from the street above, and
came briskly down