"Is it something about--about the mortgage?" asked Rose Mary in the
gently hushed tone that she always used in speaking of this ever
couchant enemy of their peace.
"Yes," answered Uncle Tucker slowly, "it's about the mortgage, and I'm
mighty sorry to have to tell you, but I reckon I'll have to come to
accepting you from the Lord as a rod and staff to hobble on. I--I had
that settlement with the Senator this evening 'fore he left and it
came pretty nigh winding me to see how things stood. Instead of a
little more'n one hundred dollars behind in the interest we are mighty
near on to six, and by right figures, too. It just hasn't measured out
any year, and I never stopped to count it at so much. Gid was mighty
kind about it and said never mind, let it run, but--but I'm not
settled in my mind it's right to hold on like this; he maybe didn't
mean it, but before dinner he dropped a word about being mighty hard
pressed for money to keep up this here white ribbon contest he's
a-running against his own former record. No, I'm not settled in my
mind about the rights of it," and with this uneasy reiteration Uncle
Tucker raised his big eyes to Rose Mary in which lay the exact quest
for the path of honor that she had met in the young eyes of the
General not two hours before. In fact, Uncle Tucker's eyes were so
like Stonie's in their mournful demand for a decision from her that
Rose Mary's tender heart throbbed with sympathy but sank with dismay
at again having the decision of a question of masculine ethics
presented to her.
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