"Good God!" he exclaimed, staring at her.
It seemed to him that she, too, must have felt the paper and its tell-tale words.
"What have I been saying?" he asked, in a bewildered tone.
The change in him within a few moments had been extraordinary, and Addie experienced a shock. Any one who had seen the wolfish glare of his eyes on the bridge would have been surprised at the human emotion he now betrayed.
"You frighten me," said the girl, shrinking; but she was conscious of feeling more pity than fright.
"Don't be frightened," urged Hounshell, trying to speak gently; but his voice broke. It sounded abject rather than soothing. "I s'pose I'm making mistakes again. You can't understand me. Only this--think of this: I shall never get over it if you don't have me. You may do me a great wrong by turning me off. Can't you consider about this a little more?"
"I--I will try to consider, Mr. Hounshell," faltered Addie.
"Then I'll go; I'll bid you good-night," he said, regaining some of his customary stiffness.
He got into the waiting buggy; there was a grinding of wheels, a puff of whitish dust from them, and then the dusk obliterated him, much to her relief. She went back into the house slightly paler than when she had left it.
"Father," she declared, "I never can marry that man."
"Yes. There's something strange about him--and wrong."
"Careful! He's been our best friend, lass; there can't be anything wrong."
"Have you thought over all?" he asked. "You wouldn't be the only gainer."
He glanced down at his arm, which still bore marks of sailor's tattooing, and at his hard hands all day in service at the loom; and then he sighed, as if despairing of rest.
"I know, dear father," said his daughter. "Mr. Hounshell would be very generous to you, so I wish I could do it. But oh, I can't, I can't!"
She put one hand on his arm and looked piteously into his face.
"I see how it is," said Scofield. "You have fixed your fancy on Jonah."
Addie softly moved away. All her color had returned, but she said nothing. They had barely seated themselves at the table when a knock was heard.
"Come in!" cried Addie, and on the entrance of the new-comer, "Oh--Jonah!"
"Did you think it was--well, never mind who."
Jonah, in whose spruce attire, as he now presented himself, it was not easy to recognize the brakeman of the afternoon train, made this enigmatical remark rather uneasily, and subsided into regretful silence.