“Be ye disap’inted, little woman?” inquired Jim, tenderly.
“Oh, no.”
“Feelin’s a little too many fur ye?”
The little woman nodded, while Miss Snow put her arm around her neck and whispered.
“A woman is a curi’s bein’,” said Jim. “She cries when she’s tickled, an’ she laughs when she’s mad.”
“I’m not mad,” said the little woman, bursting into a laugh, and lifting her tear-burdened eyes to Jim.
“An’ then,” said Jim, “she cries and laughs all to oncet, an’a feller don’t know whether to take off his jacket or put up his umberell.”
This quite restored the “little woman,” and her eyes were dry and merry as the boat touched the bank, and the two women were helped on shore. Before the other boats came up, they were in the house, with the delighted Turk at their heels, and Mike Conlin’s wife courtseying before them.
It was a merry night at Number Nine. Jim’s wife became the mistress at once. She knew where everything was to be found, as well as if she had been there for a year, and played the hostess to Mr. and Mrs. Balfour as agreeably as if her life had been devoted to the duties of her establishment.
Mr. Balfour could not make a long stay in the woods, but had determined to leave his wife there with the boys. His business was pressing at home, and he had heard something while at Sevenoaks that made him uneasy on Mr. Benedict’s account. The latter had kept himself very quiet while at the wedding, but his intimacy with one of Mr. Balfour’s boys had been observed, and there were those who detected the likeness of this boy, though much changed by growth and better conditions, to the little Harry Benedict of other days. Mr. Balfour had overheard the speculations of the villagers on the strange Mr. Williams who had for so long a time been housed with Jim Fenton, and the utterance of suspicions that he was no other than their old friend, Paul Benedict. He knew that this suspicion would be reported by Mr. Belcher’s agent at once, and that Mr. Belcher would take desperate steps to secure himself in his possessions. What form these measures would take—whether of fraud or personal violence—he could not tell.
He advised Mr. Benedict to give him a power of attorney to prosecute Mr. Belcher for the sum due him on the use of his inventions, and to procure an injunction on his further use of them, unless he should enter into an agreement to pay such a royalty as should be deemed equitable by all the parties concerned. Mr. Benedict accepted the advice, and the papers were executed at once.
Armed with this document, Mr. Balfour bade good-bye to Number Nine and its pleasant company, and hastened back to the city, where he took the first opportunity to report to his friends the readiness of Jim to receive them for the summer.
It would be pleasant to follow them into their forest pastimes, but more stirring and important matters will hold us to the city.