During the next day Caroline Warren and her brother saw little of their uncle. Not that they complained of this or sought his society. The policy of avoidance and what Stephen called "freezing out" had begun, and the young people kept to themselves as much as possible. At breakfast Caroline was coldly polite, and her brother cold, although his politeness was not overdone. However, Captain Elisha did not seem to notice. He was preoccupied, said but little, and spent the forenoon in writing a second letter to Miss Abigail. In it he told of his experience on board the Empress of the Ocean and of the luncheon at the Central Club. But he said nothing concerning his nephew and niece further than the statement that he was still getting acquainted, and that Caroline was a real nice looking girl.
"I suppose you wonder what I've decided about taking the guardianship," he added, just at the close. "Well, Abbie, I'm about in the position of Luther Sylvester when he fell off the dock at Orham. The tide was out, and he went into the soft mud, all under. When the folks who saw him tumble got to the edge and looked over, they saw a round, black thing sticking out of the mire, and, judging 'twas Lute's head, they asked him how he felt.
'I don't know yet,' sputters Lute, 'whether I'm drowned or smothered, but I'm somewheres betwixt and between.' That's me, Abbie, on that guardian business. I'm still betwixt and between.
But before this day's over I'll be drowned or smothered, and I'll let you know which next time I write."After lunch he took a stroll in the Park and passed up and down the paths, thinking, thinking. Returning, he found that Caroline and Stephen had gone for an auto ride with the Dunns and would not be home for dinner. So he ate that meal in solitary state, waited upon by Edwards.
That evening, as he sat smoking in the library, the butler appeared to announce a caller.
"Someone to see you, sir," said Edwards. "Here's his card, sir.""Eh? Someone to see ME? Guess you've made a mistake, haven't you, Commodore? I don't know anybody who'd be likely to come visitin'
me here in New York. Why, yes! Well, I declare! Tell him to walk right in. Mr. Pearson, I'm glad to see you. This is real neighborly."The caller was young Pearson, the captain's acquaintance of the previous forenoon. They shook hands heartily.
"Perhaps you didn't think I should accept that invitation of yours, Captain Warren," observed Pearson. "I told you I meant it when Isaid yes. And calling within thirty-six hours is pretty good proof, isn't it?""Suits me fust-rate. I'm mighty glad you came. Set right down.
Lonesome at the boardin' house, was it?"
Pearson made a grimace. "Lonesome!" he repeated. "Ugh! Let's talk of something else. Were you in time for your appointment yesterday noon?""Why, yes; I was and I wasn't. Say, won't you have a cigar?
That's right. And I s'pose, bein' as this is New York, I'd ought to ask you to take somethin' to lay the dust, hey? I ain't made any inquiries myself, but I shouldn't wonder if the Commodore--the feller that let you in--could find somethin' in the spare room closet or somewheres, if I ask him."The young man laughed. "If you mean a drink," he said, "I don't care for it, thank you.""What? You ain't a teetotaler, are you?"
"No, not exactly. But--"
"But you can get along without it, hey? So can I; generally do, fur's that goes. But I'M from South Denboro. I thought here in New York--""Oh, there are many people, even here in New York, who are not convinced that alcohol is a food.""You don't tell me! Well, I'm livin' and learnin' every day.
Judgin' from stories and the yarns in the Boston newspapers, folks up our way have the idea that this town is a sort of annex to the bad place. All right, then we won't trouble the Commodore. Inotice you're lookin' over my quarters. What do you think of 'em?"Pearson had, in spite of himself, been glancing about the room.
Its luxury and the evident signs of taste and wealth surprised him greatly.
"Astonish you to find me livin' in a place like this, hey?""Why, why, yes, it does, somewhat. I didn't realize you were such an aristocrat, Captain Warren. If I had, I might have been a little more careful of my dress in making my first call.""Dress? Oh, you mean you'd have put on your Sunday clothes. Well, I'm glad you didn't. You see, _I_ haven't got on my regimentals, and if you'd been on dress parade I might have felt bashful. Ho, ho! I don't wonder you are surprised. This is a pretty swell neighborhood, ain't it?""Yes, it is."
"These--er--apartments, now. 'Bout as good as any in town, are they?""Pretty nearly. There are few better--much better.""I thought so. You wouldn't call livin' in 'em economizin' to any consider'ble extent, would you?""No," with a laugh; "no, _I_ shouldn't, but my ideas of economy are--well, different. They have to be. Are you ecomomizing, Captain?"Captain Elisha laughed and rubbed his knee.
"No," he chuckled, "_I_ ain't, but my nephew and niece are. These are their rooms.""Oh, you're visiting?"
"No, I don't know's you'd call it visitin'. I don't know what you would call it. I'm here, that's about all you can say."He paused and remained silent. His friend was silent, also, not knowing exactly what remark to make.
"How's the novel comin' on?" asked the captain, a minute later.
"Oh, slowly. I'm not at all sure it will ever be finished. I get discouraged sometimes.""No use in doin' that. What sort of a yarn is it goin' to be?
Give me a gen'ral idea of the course you're tryin' to steer. That is, if it ain't a secret.""It isn't. But there's mighty little worth telling. When I began I thought I had a good scheme, but it seems pretty weak and dish-watery now."