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asparagus bed. She had once been afraid of this man’s judgment. Now she
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saw clearly that he was nothing but a rather stupid little village
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tin-god.
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Roaring Abel turned with his great broad laugh.
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“He’ll think of that for years when he wakes up in the night. The
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Almighty made a mistake in making so many Stirlings. But since they are
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made, we’ve got to reckon with them. Too many to kill out. But if they
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come here bothering you I’ll shoo ’em off before a cat could lick its
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ear.”
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The next time they sent Dr. Stalling. Surely Roaring Abel would not
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throw him into asparagus beds. Dr. Stalling was not so sure of this and
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had no great liking for the task. He did not believe Valancy Stirling
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was out of her mind. She had always been queer. He, Dr. Stalling, had
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never been able to understand her. Therefore, beyond doubt, she was
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queer. She was only just a little queerer than usual now. And Dr.
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Stalling had his own reasons for disliking Roaring Abel. When Dr.
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Stalling had first come to Deerwood he had had a liking for long hikes
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around Mistawis and Muskoka. On one of these occasions he had got lost
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and after much wandering had fallen in with Roaring Abel with his gun
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over his shoulder.
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Dr. Stalling had contrived to ask his question in about the most
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idiotic manner possible. He said, “Can you tell me where I’m going?”
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“How the devil should I know where you’re going, gosling?” retorted
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Abel contemptuously.
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Dr. Stalling was so enraged that he could not speak for a moment or two
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and in that moment Abel had disappeared in the woods. Dr. Stalling had
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eventually found his way home, but he had never hankered to encounter
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Abel Gay again.
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Nevertheless he came now to do his duty. Valancy greeted him with a
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sinking heart. She had to own to herself that she was terribly afraid
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of Dr. Stalling still. She had a miserable conviction that if he shook
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his long, bony finger at her and told her to go home, she dared not
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disobey.
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“Mr. Gay,” said Dr. Stalling politely and condescendingly, “may I see
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Miss Stirling alone for a few minutes?”
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Roaring Abel was a little drunk—just drunk enough to be excessively
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polite and very cunning. He had been on the point of going away when
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Dr. Stalling arrived, but now he sat down in a corner of the parlour
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and folded his arms.
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“No, no, mister,” he said solemnly. “That wouldn’t do—wouldn’t do at
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all. I’ve got the reputation of my household to keep up. I’ve got to
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chaperone this young lady. Can’t have any sparkin’ going on here behind
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my back.”
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Outraged Dr. Stalling looked so terrible that Valancy wondered how Abel
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could endure his aspect. But Abel was not worried at all.
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“D’ye know anything about it, anyway?” he asked genially.
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“About _what_?”
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“Sparking,” said Abel coolly.
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Poor Dr. Stalling, who had never married because he believed in a
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celibate clergy, would not notice this ribald remark. He turned his
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back on Abel and addressed himself to Valancy.
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“Miss Stirling, I am here in response to your mother’s wishes. She
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begged me to come. I am charged with some messages from her. Will
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you”—he wagged his forefinger—“will you hear them?”
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“Yes,” said Valancy faintly, eyeing the forefinger. It had a hypnotic
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effect on her.
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“The first is this. If you will leave this—this——”
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“House,” interjected Roaring Abel. “H-o-u-s-e. Troubled with an
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impediment in your speech, ain’t you, Mister?”
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“—this _place_ and return to your home, Mr. James Stirling will himself
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pay for a good nurse to come here and wait on Miss Gay.”
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Back of her terror Valancy smiled in secret. Uncle James must indeed
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regard the matter as desperate when he would loosen his purse-strings
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like that. At any rate, her clan no longer despised her or ignored her.
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She had become important to them.
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“That’s _my_ business, Mister,” said Abel. “Miss Stirling can go if she
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pleases, or stay if she pleases. I made a fair bargain with her, and
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she’s free to conclude it when she likes. She gives me meals that stick
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to my ribs. She don’t forget to put salt in the porridge. She never
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slams doors, and when she has nothing to say she don’t talk. That’s
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uncanny in a woman, you know, Mister. I’m satisfied. If she isn’t,
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she’s free to go. But no woman comes here in Jim Stirling’s pay. If any
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one does”—Abel’s voice was uncannily bland and polite—“I’ll spatter the
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road with her brains. Tell him that with A. Gay’s compliments.”
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“Dr. Stalling, a nurse is not what Cissy needs,” said Valancy
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earnestly. “She isn’t so ill as that, yet. What she wants is
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companionship—somebody she knows and likes just to live with her. You
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