02 Morning at Jalna by Mazo de La Roche Read Free Book Online

Wilmott was proud of him, regarding him almost in the light of a son.
    “Good morning to you, Tite,” said Adeline. “Is Mr. Wilmott at home?”
    “He is almost always at home,” Tite said, with a dignified inclination of the head. “I will tell him you are here. He is at the moment sewing buttons on his best pants.” Tite glided from the room and, in a few moments, Wilmott entered. Tite did not return.
    “I’m sorry I have kept you waiting, Adeline.” Wilmott spoke formally, as was his habit, but his deep-set grey eyes looked so intently into hers that she coloured a little. “It is not often that you come to see me,” he added, and placed a chair for her.
    She did not sit down but stood facing him.
    “I come on an important mission,” she said.
    He was used to her exaggerations and waited composedly for her to go on. “Yes?” He spoke warily.
    “Oh, don’t be alarmed,” she broke out. “I’m not asking you to do anything. I want only to have your sympathy in what Philip and I are undertaking.”
    “Philip and you?” he repeated surprised.
    “Philip and I pull very well together,” she declared, “when we are of one mind … But first tell me where do your sympathies lie in this Civil War of the Americans?”
    “You know that I hate slavery.”
    “So do our guests from the South. But they inherited great plantations and hundreds of slaves. Those blacks were dependent on them. They were content and happy with their masters, but now the Yankee soldiers have invaded the South, pillaging, burning. Oh, ’twould break your heart to hear of the miseries those villains have brought into that happy country. Of course, you remember how your wife went through New England lecturing and stirring up hate for the South. And it was none of her business, was it?”
    Wilmott did not want to be reminded of that woman. He retorted, “Surely this war is no business of ours.”
    Yet when Adeline poured out the plans of Curtis Sinclair, she moved him, as she knew she could. The very fact that his one-time wife had been active in stirring up hatred for the South was enough to rouse his sympathy for that troubled land.
    As he hesitated, she caught his hand in hers, exclaiming, “Ah, James, how splendid you are!”
    “But I have promised nothing,” he warned. “And I hope you are not letting yourself be inveigled into some reckless act.”
    “Philip and I have no part in all this but to see nothing, say nothing. Nothing more than to lend shelter for meetings.”
    “Meetings?” He withdrew his hand and looked her sternly in the eyes.
    “Now that I have won you over,” she said, “you are to come to Jalna tonight and hear the details. You are going to enjoy this, James.”
    His voice trembled a little as he said, “You know, Adeline, that I will do anything for you.” Yet he still held his look of sternness, for he lived a rather isolated life and, once his austere features lent themselves to any expression of mood, they were reluctant to change.
    When Adeline was gone, the half-breed entered. He had been eavesdropping and had heard every word, but his face showed nothing of this. He said: “I was hoping you’d tell me to make a cup of tea for the lady, Boss.”
    “You know very well, Tite,” said Wilmott, “that I am not in the habit of entertaining ladies.”
    “But Mrs. Whiteoak is a great tea-drinker, Boss.”
    “That is nothing to us,” Wilmott said curtly.
    “I know that very well, Boss. But I thought she might like a cup of tea for the sake of her nerves. It must be strange to her to have slaves in the house.”
    “That is nothing to us,” repeated Wilmott.
    A silence followed, then Tite, with a sidelong look, asked, “Have you seen the slaves, Boss?”
    “I have not. How many are there?”
    “Three, Boss.”
    “Well!” Wilmott ejaculated. “Well — that seems rather a lot. Are they men or women?”
    “One man and two women, Boss.”
    “Have you spoken with them?”
    “I am always