Chapter XIII: Reconciliation

The sunshine of a clear June day was beating upon the gravel of the driveway, and a few woolly clouds, the forerunners of the early afternoon's daily shower, clung over the tops of the southern mountains.

Behind the screen of vines and climbing roses that sheltered the porch von Rittenheim sat reading a New York paper of two days before. It was the morning after his explanation with Mrs. Carroll, and the emotional outcome of the talk had been a state of abasement of soul that had sapped his little store of strength. His thin hands shook weakly, and he continually changed his position, and glanced expectantly at the long window which opened upon the gallery.

Sydney's voice inside the house made him clutch his paper nervously. She spoke loudly, as in warning.

"The Baron? You'll find him on the porch, Dr. Morgan. The nurse says he didn't sleep very well last night."

"He didn't? We must mend that." And the Doctor stepped from the window and approached his long-unseen patient.

Von Rittenheim looked up into the wrinkled brown face with its shrewd, kind eyes, and covered his own eyes with his hand.

"You know?" he asked, brokenly. "Mrs. Carroll has told you?" He felt his other hand taken into a cordial grasp.

"Mrs. Carroll has told me that she has described to you all the happenings of yo' illness that had escaped yo' attention, so to speak. Curious troubles, these brain affairs, aren't they? Make you feel as if you'd been on an excursion outside of yo'self for a while, and had to hear all the home news when you got back."

Von Rittenheim grew composed as the Doctor rambled on.

"She has not told you," he said, insistently, "of my so deep r-regret for the injustice that I made towards you. I can never do atonement for my br-rutal behavior, for my unjust suspiciousness. That you can take my hand shows much par-rdon in you."

"Now, don't talk about that any more, Baron. It ain't worth it," Dr. Morgan replied, awkwardly. "Ah don't guess that circumstances looked very favorable to me. Anyway, you-all can please me best now by doing credit to my doctoring skill. Quit having the appearance of a skeleton just as quick as you can."

"I'll try," answered Friedrich, meekly.

"And don't worry too much over what's gone by," went on the Doctor, clumsily. "Breaking the law's breaking the law, Ah'm not denying that; but it makes a lot of difference what the motive is, and you've suffered your share of punishment, too. It's the right of every man to begin afresh. Avoid mud and give yo' horse a firm take-off, and he'll leap as clean as a whistle for you. Lawd, Ah'm getting plumb religious," he ejaculated, wiping his face.

Friedrich's knowledge of English was put to a test, but he listened with his eyes as well as his ears, and nodded slowly.

"I think I understand," he said. "But do you think that people--my fr-riends"--his eyes turned towards the house--"that my friends can overlook it--can ever think of me as they used to think of me?"

"Oh, I reckon she will," replied Dr. Morgan, with a smile that disconcerted von Rittenheim and drove him to a new topic.

"You will for-rgive me if I do talk some business with you," he said, hastily.

"Do you feel well enough?"

"Oh, yes. I shall feel much better when I have cleared my mind of all these things. I want to say to you that I do much appr-reciate, also, besides your kindness, all the money that you have paid, and--no, let me talk, please, Herr Doctor--and I must tell you that I shall write to-day to Germany for a r-remittance. There is a sum which I can have. Yes, I see you look, wondering that I have lived so poor. Well, I explain to you that I have sworn that I would not use it for myself--I have another use for it--so long as I am well and can earn enough for living; but now I am not well, and I have expenses in the past weeks, and I must live until I grow str-rong to work in some way; so am I justified to myself to send for the money, you see."

"Fix it any way you like," said the Doctor, cheerily, "only remember that if it ain't convenient to pay up _ever_,--why, just banish it from your mind, and Ah'll never think of it again, Ah promise you. Now, is that all?" he asked, as he leaned towards his patient and put a practised finger on his pulse. "Yes? Then Ah'd like to know where that Sydney is with that egg-nog. Here, you Sydney," he cried, putting his head into the house and letting his cracked voice echo into the darkness. "What kind of a nurse are you? How do you expect to rise in the profession, miss, if you don't have an egg-nog ready the instant yo' patient happens to think of it? Oh, here you are! Well, sit down here, then, and see that the Baron takes every drop of that, and don't tire him out with yo' chatter. Do you understand?"

After which burst he kissed her, and disappeared into the house. Sydney turned blushing to the Baron, and laughed at his wistful look.

"Age has its compensations," he said, as he took the tumbler from her. "But I do not begrudge the good Doctor all the happiness that comes to him. He is a most generous man."

"He's a darling!"

"A darling? Ah, yes. I should not have used that word for _him_, but I agree with the sentiment."

"You are critical this morning. Don't you ever allow yourself any liberty of speech in German? Do you always say exactly what you mean, and use exactly the right word?"

"Oh, Miss Sydney, you describe to me a pig--no, a pr-rig person. Surely I use many picture words in my thinking of--well, just to illustrate what I mean, I will say, in my thinking of _you_!"

Sydney moved her position so that her face was partly hidden behind the back of the Baron's wheeled chair.

"Now, there is _Schatz_," went on Friedrich, sipping his egg-nog placidly, but keeping a wary eye upon the bit of pink cheek that was still within his range of vision. "I like to think of you as _Schatz_,"--there was a danger-betokening movement of the glowing head,--"because you are such a treasure to your grandmother."

He paused a moment, but there was no reply.

"And _Perle_--it is a pretty word, _Perle_--it makes you to think of the r-radiance of the moon, so pure, so soft. Yes," he went on, hastily, "_Perle_ r-rhymes with _Erle_--that means an alder-tree--and that r-reminds me of you."

"I must say I fail to see the resemblance," came an injured voice from behind the chair.

"Not see? Oh, Miss Sydney, surely--with your cleverness! Listen to this, then; perhaps you like it better that I call you my--I mean _a_--_Rose_."

"That's because my hair is red."

"It is a white r-rose that always figures in my mind. A beautiful white r-rose with a heart of gold."

By a dexterous touch upon one wheel he whirled his chair about so that he saw her downcast face.

"A heart full of goodness to others is it, and of courage, and of love."

He was leaning eagerly towards her. She lifted her eyes with an effort, and met his. Then he remembered.

"Yes," he continued, hurriedly, "full of love for the poor and the desolate."

Sydney rose.

"Your pretty figures do me too much honor," she said, unsteadily, and went into the house with lingering tread and look.

Friedrich gazed after her.

"God knows I would be counted among the poor and the desolate," he cried, softly, to himself. "But I must not speak again of this until I am more worthy to stand before her--if ever that can be!"