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CHAPTER XXX A WEEK LATER

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i got ap this marning at siven. while wiping me face after giving it a good sousing wid warter, i chanst to look from me winder. i seen the rane poaring down frum a gray and milincully sky.

“its a sad day its going to be to-day” ses i to mesilf, little noing the throoth of the matter. the day itsilf to be shure passed away as yushil. i warked and cooked. the family et. the house looked dark and gloomy, and i belave it cheered us all up a bit whin i’m toorning on the lites.

after dinner i planned to rite to minny, and so was hurrying throo the washing of me pots and pans in the sink whin i herd me bastemint dure open and close wid a bang, and ses i to mesilf: “its that bauld larry mulvaney walking into me kitchin widout the dacinsy aven of nocking.” so i kipt me contemshus back toorned aven whin the stips cam along throo the bastemint hall and paused at me kitchin dure. thin i herd a voyce spaking me name.

“delia!”

i toorned aboot, and thin i lit out a turrible yell which i shoot up quickly be throosting me dishcloth into me open mouth. for there sthtanding in me kitchin, his long coat dripping wid water, the collar toorned up about his eers, and his soft filt hat pooled doon over his eyes was mr. harry dudley himsilf. his eyes looked straynge, and his face was all oonshavin aboot the chin. he cum tords me quickly and clapped his hand on me showlder. if i hadent recknissed the lad, shure i’d be taking him for a thramp.

“go upstares” ses he, “and bring claire—miss wolley doon. i want” ses he, “to see her at wanse.”

“yes sir” ses i trimbling wid excitemint, for he do have the wild look of a mainyack in his eye.

i rooshed up the stares to miss claire’s room, and forgitting to nock wint in.

“miss claire” ses i, me breth cuming in gasps, “w-wud ye be so kind to step into me kitchin a moment.”

she stud up, looking at me surprysed and bewildyed.

“whats the matter delia?” ses she.

“plase hilp me, miss claire” ses i “for god’s sake” ses i gitting excited, “cum down at wanse.”

“are you and larry fighting again” ses she. “what can i do this time?” ses she, but she let me lead her along doon the stares, and thegither we cum to the bastemint. me kitchin dure was open and i belave she seen mr. harry setting there befure shes cum into the room, fur all of a suddint she guv a turrible start and pulled away frum me arm, trying to go back oop the stares. at that i called:

“mr. harry!” and then he stud up, and she wint slowly tord him. they stud for a moment looking at aich uther widout spaking a wurd. then he tuk his hat aff and put it on the table, and she thried to spake and cuddent say a ward. i seen her looking wid horror at his dripping clothes and wite haggud face, and i belave she guv a little sob for so it sownded. thin he spake in a saft voyce, looking at her full in the eyes.

“claire” ses he “i took a boat back fur home harf an hour after yure letter and that—that—cursed paper came” ses he. thin he stapped a bit. “i’ve cum up strate from the steemer now. i havent been home. tell me the trooth” ses he. “why did you treat me in that way?” ses he.

she did not ansser, but the colur cum back to her pale face and she raysed up her hed prowdly.

“am i to belave” ses he “that you wud throw me over for a chap wid more munney. claire!” he wint a step tord her, his hands hild out. “for god’s sake” ses he “tell me that it is all sum horribul mistake.”

she wint back frum him.

“mr. dudley” ses she. “i quistshun yure rite to inquire into me affares, but if you wish me simply to verryfy the annowncemint of me ingagemint to mr. vandybilt, i do so.”

he guv a grone, and set down in the chare, leening forward wid his hands prissed thegither. miss claire stud there cauldly, but she did not look at mr. harry anny more.

suddintly he throo back his hed and guv a little larf. thin he got up and picked up his hat and moved tord the dure.

“stop!” ses miss claire, toorning rownd suddintly, “wait wan minit” ses she. “ansser me this mr. dudley,” ses she. “what rite have you, an ingaged man, to spake to me in such a way?”

“what rite have i” ses he, looking biterly amoosed “yes” ses he, “throo, i was ingaged wance, miss wolley. i belave” ses he, “i guv you me muther’s ring.”

“no!” ses she, and her voyce rung out pashunutly “not that! i don’t meen that ingagemint——ef you considered it ever such” ses she, and her voyce catched oop in her throte which she hild wid her hand, “i mean” ses she, “yure ingagemint to una robbins. you——”

he looked so flabbygasted that she stopped.

“what do you mean?” ses he.

“oh you know, you know” ses she. “befure you were gone a fortnite” ses she “yure ingagemint was annownced.” “my ingage——claire!” ses he horsely, and he saized hold of her hand vilintly. “theres sum misurable mistake. you’ve been misled, desaved.”

“no, no, no” ses she struggling to free her hands, which he let go suddintly. “it was annownsed” ses she. “you know it. you know it.”

“annownced whare?” ses he cauldly.

“in the london queen.”

“when!”

“i don’t——”

it was thin i spoke up, for i’d taken the paper frum the recipshun hall the day miss claire faynted, intinding to burn the dummed thing. i now guv it to mr. harry. he toorned it over contemshusly. thin he guv the paper a long scrootiny. finally he looked up and fixed his eyes on miss claire. his voyce is very cam and quiet.

“this notiss” ses he, “was published exactly three and a half yeers ago. if you had aven taken the thrubble to examine the paper you wud have seen that, aven tho the date is torn aff. thank you for your faith in me” ses he. “who sent this i do not no. probably my father. and now” ses he “theres nothing more to say. i hope you will be happy claire. i don’t know vandybilt” ses he, “but—still i hope you will be happy. good-nite” ses he, and he wint oot of the dure, widout looking at her again. i seen her wake oop like wan coming out of a transe. she guv a little moan, and thin she wint following after him to the hall.

“harry! harry!” she called in the dark. i herd him stop short, and thin her voyce agin. “oh forgive me” ses she. “i—i—faynted at the time. i never saw the paper again. my—my hart was broken, for i loved you so—i love you yet” ses she.

and thin i herd him joomp tord her.

“but yure ingagemint to vandybilt” ses he horsely.

“theres no mr. vandybilt” ses she, “i—i made it up” ses she, and then she stopped spaking and crying too for he’s got his arms aboot her and her lips closed oop wid his.

i toorned away and sobbed. how long they stud i do not know, but it was a long time whin finully he starts to spake again:

“claire—my darlint!” ses he, and thin again they are silint.

then after awile.

“what will we do?” ses she, “we—we cant give aich uther up now.”

he larfed like a boy.

“give aich uther up” ses he, “why we belong to aich uther. now lissen darlint. i havent a cent to me name. dad has kept me practicully pinnyliss lately, but i maniged to borrer enuff to git back here. i’ve niver dun a stroke of work in me life, but i’ve a good ijjicashun—i’m yung, strong and willing. i’ve been offered a job out west wid a stepbruther of me muther’s, and we’ll go there as soon as i can rayse the munney to take us. oh my little love” ses he, “i only wish i cud take you away to-nite and kape you wid me always.”

“take me—take me harry” ses she, clinging about his neck, “let us go to-nite.”

“i wish we cud” ses he, “but look,” and he drew her into the lite of me kitchin and toorned out all his pockits and showed her how imty they was. it was then a brillyunt thort cum into the hed of delia o’malley.

“mr. harry” ses i interrupting, “will you be excoosing me for putting a quischun?”

“what is it delia” ses he kindly.

“how mooch is it ye’re nading?” ses i.

he smiled.

“a few hundred only” ses he. “jest enuff for our imejit ixpinses. its absurd but i havent a red cent” ses he. “i’ll borrer or steel it if i have to” ses he, trying to larf, the puir lad.

“mr. dudley” ses i, “will ye be doing a puir loan hardwarking girl a favour?”

“why certinly” ses he. “what can i do for you?”

“its siven hundred dollars i’m after having in me stocking. i droo it oot of the bank oanly a day or two ago, fur the dummed welth do be the bane of me existunse. shure i’ll nivver know anny pace of mind so long as i’m ritch. mr. mulvaney do protist that he wishes me munney soonk in hell, and museer is after saying he loves me better than me bagatell. its tisting the lads i’d be doing, and ef ye’ll do me the favour of accipting me bit of munney——”

“oh delia!” ses miss claire.

“no, no” ses mr. harry at wanse, but she pulled down his face, and wispered in his eer, and suddintly he toorned and beemed at me.

“very good! delia” ses he, “guv me the munney.”

i wint into the china closet and tuk it frum me stocking—thin i brort it over to mr. harry. he hild on to me hand arfter taking it, and his voyce trimbled a bit.

“yere a foine woman” ses he, “and its a lucky chap who gets you. your bit of munney” ses he, “will be ten times its size whin it reeches you again.”

“now claire darlint” ses he, and he looks at her wid shining eyes, hers smiling back at him, “will you go wid me—to-nite?”

“give me five minits” ses she, smiling saftly, “to get me hat and coat.”

“make it 2” ses he, and let her go.

he put his watch on the table. arfter a sicond:

“one minit!” ses he, and woches the stares. “one and a harf” ses he, and joost thin the bastemint dure bell rung, and i let in both museer and larry mulvaney, pushing and ilboing by aich uther.

“two minits” ses mr. harry, and then we herd the dure on top of the bastemint steps open, and miss claire cum steeling down, her coat and hat in her hand.

“they are all in there rooms” ses she wispering. then she seen museer and larry, both of them wid there mouths and eyes gaping at mr. harry. he was smiling quarely and he toorned to museer:

“alfonse!” ses he, “ye’ve arrived in the nich of time. i want you” ses he “to go back to our place and get riddy the big pinkard. we’ll be over in a sicond.”

museer bowed, but he histated a minit.

“well?” ses mr. harry, “what are you waiting for?”

“whare is it museer wishes to go” ses the frinchman rubbing his hands narvissly thegither, and giving a look at miss claire.

“to new rosette” ses mr. harry smiling, “i know a parson there” ses he, “will do it in a jiffy. his name’s hammond” ses he, and then suddintly he turned tord me. “and by the way alfonse” ses he, “puir delia here will be ixpicting you back airly. shes lost her little forchune.”

“mon joor! sacrey! dam!” ses museer and looked at me wid his eyes boolging, then he stamped oot, swaring tarribly in frinch.

larry guv me wan look, then he begun to wissel, excusing himsilf a moment after to miss claire.

mr. harry hilped miss claire on wid her coat, and buttoned it up snug to her chin. “for” ses he “its cold and raining, and we have quite a trip to make” ses he.

thin we all started out frum the house mr. dudley almost carrying miss claire over the wet lon and larry mulvaney grasping me titely by the arm.

we got into the dudley driveway and cum up befure the grate barn. then we seen museer at the tillyfone. hes spaking franticully harf in frinch and harf in english. mr. harry putrifyes him wid a look and he drapt the tillyfone and turned sowerly to the big ortermobile, pretinding to start it. mr. harry helped miss claire into the tonno, thin the frinchman climed in frunt. mr. harry foosed a bit wid the masheenery, then he joomped in beside the frinchman, and all of a suddint he seesed the weel frum the frinchman’s hands, guv a toot to his horn, and wint flying out of the barn dure, joost as auld mr. dudley cum rooning frum the house waving his hands and showting: “alfonse! alfonse!”

he cum into the barn farely choking wid rage. the nixt moment he seen larry and me.

“larry” ses he, and he climed into the uther masheen, standing there. “overtake those loonyticks” ses he, “and i’ll make you a ritch man.”

“i will” ses larry “i kin beet anny frinchman living.”

i fownd me way home aloan, larry the crool harted miscreent wid his avoreeshus hart having obeyed the order of mr. dudley. as i cum into me kitchin i fownd the hole wolley family, wid the ixcipshun of mrs. wolley and the babby, waiting for me.

“whare have you been?” shouted mr. james, and mr. wolley guv me a look fit to kill me.

“theres no yuse attimting to desave us delia” ses mr. john quietly, the only cam wan of the boonch, “the dudley charfer tillyfoned us the facks a minit sense. now, whares claire. i presoom” ses he, “they were stopped in time?”

“not by a dummed site sir” ses i, gitting turribly inraged wid the site of the thray strapping men pursooing the puir yung luving harted crachures. “they’ve got a good start of that desateful larry mulvaney, and mr. harry himsilf has got the wheel.”

mr. wolley let out a larf of scorn.

“boys” ses he, “me new carbureater arrived yistiday. we’ll ovetake that frinch car in harf an our.”

wid that they all wint for the barn, got out the car and in there exsitemint let me climb in wid them also.

well, we wint spinning at a turrible speed along the auld boston post road but never a site did we get of the dudley frinch car.

the roads was turrible for the stiddy rains of the larst week do be cutting it up into ditches, and manny a time me hart was in me mouth feering we’d be going into the gutter. the nite was pitch dark and the ilictrick lites over harf the road being out wid the lightning.

as we cam whissing along over a wild and loansum cuntry we herd a straynge sownd, like samewan hollering for hilp, and then we seen a lite ahed. we roon up beside it and there in the road was anuther masheen. it was so dark we cud not see the gintleman but whin i herd his voyce i guv a start.

“can you tak me as far as new rosette” ses he. “i’m soaking wet and cold” ses he, “and me dammed man don’t understand the meckaneesm of this masheen.”

“climb in” ses mr. wolley gruffly, and he got in at the back.

we started aff again, and by and by we cam at last to new rosette. we wint feeling our way arownd the strates, wid the rain beeting doon upon our lether top and the thoonder and lightning litting out a crack avery wanse in a wile.

thin suddintly we cam to a stop. theres a gas lite burning in the strate, and setting back a bit from the road on a lumpy bit of lon i seen what looked like a church and at its very dure indade there stud the grate frinch ortermobile of mr. dudley. but neyther miss claire or mr. harry was inside it. the gintleman guv a gront, and thin ses he:

“excuse me sir, allow me to get out here.”

mr. wolley has turned aboot, and now he leened over the back of the seet and stuck his face close up to his gest’s. then at wanse they recknised aich other. the boys too soospicted the truth at wanse. mr. dudley himself was for joomping clane out of the masheen, but mr. john opened the dure wid dignuty, and perlitely hilped him to alite.

we wint all walking up the path to the choorch, and we cud see theres a bit of lite burning inside. we wint into the holy place, which is all very still and quiet wid only a bit of dim lite up near the altar, but under the lite we sor the luvvers, neeling side be side.

neyther mr. dudley or mr. wolley spoke a wurd. they joost stud back and let the praste finish the wurds. thin i seen two gintleman stip forward an reckynised thim wid horrow—museer and larry mulvaney. the latter seen us at the same time, and he cum smiling frum eer to eer up to mr. dudley, while the yung cupple stud still wid hands in aich uthers, looking wid smiling faces at their fathers, joost as if indade they were arfter ixpicting us.

“mr. dudley” ses larry, “ye’ll not be haulding it aginst me for me thrick. i boasted” ses he, “that i cud beet the frinchman, and i did” ses he, “me frate being lite. it was no brake down ye were arfter being in on the road” ses he “i simply doomped ye there” ses he “to guv the yung fokes time. besides” ses he “delia there made a hyer bid for me sarvisses. all the welth in the warld” ses he, “cuddent bye me frum me pinnyliss darlint.”

mr. dudley’s silint, but he kipt his eyes stiddily on the yung fokes, then suddintly he hild out his hand to mr. wolley.

“i’m afrade sir” ses he, “that love has won the race.”

mr. james was acting strayngely. he wint down the isle in harf a dussen strydes. he brort his hand down wid a thoomp on mr. harry’s back; then he toorned on his sister and guv her a smacking kiss.

“claire!” ses he “ye’ve made me insanely happy.”

she smiled, and mr. harry guv a larf.

“i oonderstand auld chap” ses he, “and heres a bit of prudint advice. do as i did, tak the first steemer which will carry you her-wurds.”

“by jove i will!” ses mr. james, “i’ll accipt the london corryspondint job to-morrow.”

by this time the hole family is crowding about the yung fokes, and mr. dudley is after kissing the bride and bridegroom too, and both he and mr. wolley look as ef they’d blow there noses hard, but seeing there in choorch it might not be perlite.

the teers run down me nose, and wan of thim sploshed on larry’s hand, for i seen him look at it a moment. then he wispered in me eer.

“come, auld girl” ses he, “hop into the little masheen, which is joost around the corner. maybe” ses he, “we can injuice sum sinsible praste to do us a like favour to-nite.”

and so we wint sneeking out thegither, wid only the frinchman to obsarve us, and he wid his mouth gaping open and smiling a bit beside, for mr. harry do be arfter giving him the hole of me forchune to act as witniss.

“but don’t you be arfter wurrying swatehart” ses larry mulvaney, “for tho ye’re puir yersilf now darlint, its a ritch man i’ll be air long, wid the grand promisses of mr. harry.”

“ah, go wan larry moolvaney,” ses i, giving him a squaze of his arm, “it’s oanly a bit of a trick i’ve been playing you, me wanting to tist yere love fur me, or me wilth—shure it was oanly a loan i’m arfter making mr. harry, and it’s hivvy intrust the lad will be arfter paying on me savings,” ses i.

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