Darkness was beginning to gather slowly and with almost an apologeticair, as if it regretted the painful duty of putting an end to theperfect summer day. Over to the west beyond the trees there stilllingered a faint afterglow, and a new moon shone like a silver sickleabove the big barn. Sally came out of the house and bowed gravely threetimes for luck. She stood on the gravel, outside the porch, drinking inthe sweet evening scents, and found life good.
The darkness, having shown a certain reluctance at the start, was nowbuckling down to make a quick and thorough job of it. The sky turned toa uniform dark blue, picked out with quiet stars. The cement of thestate road which led to Patchogue, Babylon, and other important centresceased to be a pale blur and became invisible. Lights appeared in thewindows of the houses across the meadows. From the direction of thekennels there came a single sleepy bark, and the small white woolly dogwhich had scampered out at Sally's heels stopped short and uttered achallenging squeak.
The evening was so still that Ginger's footsteps, as he pounded alongthe road on his way back from the village, whither he had gone to buyprovisions, evening papers, and wool for the sweater which Sally wasknitting, were audible long before he turned in at the gate. Sally couldnot see him, but she looked in the direction of the sound and once againfell that pleasant, cosy thrill of happiness which had come to her everyevening for the last year.
"Ginger," she called.
"What ho!"The woolly dog, with another important squeak, scuttled down the driveto look into the matter, and was coldly greeted. Ginger, for all hislove of dogs, had never been able to bring himself to regard Toto withaffection. He had protested when Sally, a month before, finding Mrs.
Meecher distraught on account of a dreadful lethargy which had seizedher pet, had begged him to offer hospitality and country air to theinvalid.
"It's wonderful what you've done for Toto, angel," said Sally, as hecame up frigidly eluding that curious animal's leaps of welcome. "He's adifferent dog.""Bit of luck for him," said Ginger.
"In all the years I was at Mrs. Meecher's I never knew him move atanything more rapid than a stately walk. Now he runs about all thetime.""The blighter had been overeating from birth," said Ginger. "That wasall that was wrong with him. A little judicious dieting put him right.
We'll be able," said Ginger brightening, "to ship him back next week.""I shall quite miss him.""I nearly missed him--this morning--with a shoe," said Ginger. "He wasup on the kitchen table wolfing the bacon, and I took steps.""My cave-man!" murmured Sally. "I always said you had a frightfullybrutal streak in you. Ginger, what an evening!""Good Lord!" said Ginger suddenly, as they walked into the light of theopen kitchen door.
"Now what?"He stopped and eyed her intently.
"Do you know you're looking prettier than you were when I started downto the village!"Sally gave his arm a little hug.
"Beloved!" she said. "Did you get the chops?"Ginger froze in his tracks, horrified.
"Oh, my aunt! I clean forgot them!""Oh, Ginger, you are an old chump. Well, you'll have to go in for alittle judicious dieting, like Toto.""I say, I'm most awfully sorry. I got the wool.""If you think I'm going to eat wool...""Isn't there anything in the house?""Vegetables and fruit.""Fine! But, of course, if you want chops...""Not at all. I'm spiritual. Besides, people say that vegetables aregood for the blood-pressure or something. Of course you forgot to getthe mail, too?""Absolutely not! I was on to it like a knife. Two letters from fellowswanting Airedale puppies.""No! Ginger, we are getting on!""Pretty bloated," agreed Ginger complacently. "Pretty bloated. We'llbe able to get that two-seater if things go buzzing on like this. Therewas a letter for you. Here it is.""It's from Fillmore," said Sally, examining the envelope as they wentinto the kitchen. "And about time, too. I haven't had a word from himfor months."She sat down and opened the letter. Ginger, heaving himself on to thetable, wriggled into a position of comfort and started to read hisevening paper. But after he had skimmed over the sporting page helowered it and allowed his gaze to rest on Sally's bent head with afeeling of utter contentment.
Although a married man of nearly a year's standing, Ginger was stillmoving about a magic world in a state of dazed incredulity, unable fullyto realize that such bliss could be. Ginger in his time had seen manythings that looked good from a distance, but not one that had borne thetest of a closer acquaintance--except this business of marriage.
Marriage, with Sally for a partner, seemed to be one of the very fewthings in the world in which there was no catch. His honest eyes glowedas he watched her. Sally broke into a little splutter of laughter.
"Ginger, look at this!"He reached down and took the slip of paper which she held out to him.
The following legend met his eye, printed in bold letters:
POPP'SOUTSTANDINGSUCCULENT----APPETIZING----NUTRITIOUS.
(JUST SAY "POP!" A CHILDCAN DO IT.)Ginger regarded this cipher with a puzzled frown.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's Fillmore.""How do you mean?"Sally gurgled.
"Fillmore and Gladys have started a little restaurant in Pittsburg.""A restaurant!" There was a shocked note in Ginger's voice. Although heknew that the managerial career of that modern Napoleon, hisbrother-in-law, had terminated in something of a smash, he had neverquite lost his reverence for one whom he considered a bit of amaster-mind. That Fillmore Nicholas, the Man of Destiny, should havedescended to conducting a restaurant--and a little restaurant atthat--struck him as almost indecent.
Sally, on the other hand--for sisters always seem to fail in properreverence for the greatness of their brothers--was delighted.
"It's the most splendid idea," she said with enthusiasm. "It reallydoes look as if Fillmore was going to amount to something at last.
Apparently they started on quite a small scale, just makingpork-pies...""Why Popp?" interrupted Ginger, ventilating a question which wasperplexing him deeply.
"Just a trade name, silly. Gladys is a wonderful cook, you know, andshe made the pies and Fillmore toddled round selling them. And they didso well that now they've started a regular restaurant, and that's asuccess, too. Listen to this." Sally gurgled again and turned over theletter. "Where is it? Oh yes! '... sound financial footing. In fact, oursuccess has been so instantaneous that I have decided to launch out on areally big scale. It is Big Ideas that lead to Big Business. I amcontemplating a vast extension of this venture of ours, and in a veryshort time I shall organize branches in New York, Chicago, Detroit, andall the big cities, each in charge of a manager and each offering as aspecial feature, in addition to the usual restaurant cuisine, thesePopp's Outstanding Pork-pies of ours. That done, and having establishedall these branches as going concerns, I shall sail for England andintroduce Popp's Pork-pies there...' Isn't he a little wonder!""Dashed brainy chap. Always said so.""I must say I was rather uneasy when I read that. I've seen so many ofFillmore's Big Ideas. That's always the way with him. He gets somethinggood and then goes and overdoes it and bursts. However, it's all rightnow that he's got Gladys to look after him. She has added a postscript.
Just four words, but oh! how comforting to a sister's heart. 'Yes, Idon't think!' is what she says, and I don't know when I've read anythingmore cheering. Thank heaven, she's got poor dear Fillmore well in hand.""Pork-pies!" said Ginger, musingly, as the pangs of a healthy hungerbegan to assail his interior. "I wish he'd sent us one of theoutstanding little chaps. I could do with it."Sally got up and ruffled his red hair.
"Poor old Ginger! I knew you'd never be able to stick it. Come on, it'sa lovely night, lets walk to the village and revel at the inn. We'regoing to be millionaires before we know where we are, so we can affordit."
The End
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