The Melting of Molly | Page 6

a flower through their fence as he passed by one day last week, but
I never thought I should have one all to myself. But there it was, a most
beautiful one, long and slow and distinctly mine--at least I didn't think
much of it was for Billy. I sat up and blushed as red all over as I do
when I first hit that tub of cold water.
"I hope you'll forgive an intruder, Mrs. Carter, but how could a mortal
resist a peep into such a fairy garden if he spied the queen and her faun
at play?" he said in a voice as wonderful as the smile. By that time I
had pushed in all my hairpins. Billy stood spread-legged as near in
front of me as he could get, and said, in the rudest possible tone of
voice--
"Get away from my Molly, man!"
I never was so mortified in all my life, and I scrambled to my feet and
came over to the hedge to get between him and Billy.
"It's a lovely day, isn't it, Judge Wade?" I asked with the greatest
interest, which I didn't really feel, in the weather; but what could I think
of to say? A woman is apt to keep the image of a good many of the
grand men she sees passing around her in queer niches in her brain, and
when one steps out and speaks to her for the first time it is confusing.
Of course, I have known the judge and his mother all my life, for she is
one of Aunt Adeline's best friends, but I had a feeling from the look in
his eyes that that very minute was the first time he had ever seen me. It
was lovely, and I blushed still more as I put my hand up to my cheek so
that I wouldn't have to look right at him.
"About the loveliest day that ever happened in Hillsboro," he said, and
there was still more of the delicious smile, "though I hadn't noticed it so
especially until--"
But I never knew what he had intended to say, for Billy suddenly
swelled up like a little turkey-cock and cut out with his switch at the
judge.

"Go away, man, and let my Molly alone!" he said, in a perfect
thunder-tone of voice; but I almost laughed, for it had such a sound in it
like Dr. John's at his most positive times with Billy and me.
"No, no, Billy; the judge is just looking over the hedge at our flowers!
Don't you want to give him a rose?" I hurried to say, as the smile died
out of Judge Wade's face and he looked at Billy intently.
"How like John Moore the youngster is!" he said, and his voice was so
cold to Billy that it hurt me, and I was afraid Billy would notice it.
Coldness in people's voices always makes me feel just like ice-cream
tastes. But Billy's answer was still more rude.
"You'd better go, man, before I bring my father to set our dog on you,"
he exploded, and, before I could stop him, his thin little legs went
trundling down the garden path toward home.
Then the judge and I both laughed. We couldn't help it. The judge
leaned farther over the fence, and I went a little nearer before I knew it.
"You don't need to keep a personal dog, do you, Mrs. Carter?" he asked,
with a twinkle that might have been a spark in his eyes, and just at that
moment another awful thing happened. Aunt Adeline came out of the
front door, and said in the most frozen tone of voice--
"Mary, I wish to speak to you in the house," and then walked back
through the front door without even looking in Judge Wade's direction,
though he had waved his hat with one of his mother's own smiles when
he had seen her before I did. One of my most impossible habits is,
when there is nothing else to do I laugh. I did it then, and it saved the
day, for we both laughed into each other's eyes, and, before we realised
it, we were within whispering distance.
"No, I don't--don't--need any dog," I said softly, hardly glancing out
from under my lashes, because I was afraid to risk looking straight at
him again so soon. I could fairly feel Aunt Adeline's eyes boring into
my back.
"It would take the hydra-headed monster of--may I bring my mother to
call on you and the--Mrs. Henderson?" he asked, and poured the
wonder smile all over me. Again I almost caught my breath.
"I do wish you would, Aunt Adeline is so fond of Mrs. Wade!" I said in
a positive