"Caroline'll be real glad to see you, Jim, I know," the captain said.
"And I want you to stay for my sake. Between pacifyin' the Commodore
and frettin' over what couldn't possibly happen, I was half dead of the
fidgets. Stay and cheer me up, there's a good feller. I'd just about
reached the stage where I had the girl and boy stove to flinders under
that pesky auto. I'd even begun to figger on notifyin' the undertaker.
Tell me I'm an old fool and then talk about somethin' else. They'll be
here any minute."
But a good many minutes passed, and still they did not come. Pearson,
aware of his companion's growing anxiety, chatted of the novel, of the
people at the boarding house, of anything and everything he could think
of likely to divert attention from the one important topic. The answers
he received were more and more brief and absent. At last, when Edwards
again appeared, appealingly mute, at the entrance to the dining room,
Captain Elisha, with a sigh which was almost a groan, surrendered.
"I guess," he said, reluctantly, "I guess, Jim, there ain't any use
waitin' any longer. Somethin's kept 'em, and they won't be here for
dinner. You and I'll set down and eat--though I ain't got the appetite I
cal'lated to have."
Pearson had dined hours before, but he followed his friend, resolved to
please the latter by going through the form of pretending to eat.
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