Sincerely, Willis Wayde Read Online Free PDF Page A

fellow. He just sat on the piazza with his feet on the rail until the windmill broke down and we were out of water.”
    Mr. Harcourt’s lower lip twitched, but he did not speak.
    â€œWell, Alf got right up off the porch and climbed up the windmill. I get dizzy when I look down from a height, don’t you, Mr. Harcourt?”
    â€œAlways,” Mr. Harcourt said, “always.”
    â€œYou see, Alf doesn’t notice where he is, if his mind is on something. I don’t believe he knows where he is right now.”
    They both glanced across the table at Alfred Wayde.
    â€œNo, ma’am,” Willis heard his father say to Mrs. Blood, “I’m not a mining engineer, but anyone learns something about rocks when he handles dynamite.”
    â€œWell, Alf came down with a broken cog or something,” Mrs. Wayde said, “and asked where a blacksmith shop was. I said I’d take him down to Sawyer’s and we hitched up the buckboard. Ned Sawyer’s a Baptist and doesn’t work Sundays, but Alf started up the forge himself, and he made a whole new cogwheel right by hand. It took him six hours and he was a sight when he got through, but he got the windmill going.”
    â€œDid you say you play bridge, Mr. Wayde?” Mrs. Blood was saying.
    â€œYes, ma’am, sometimes,” Alfred Wayde answered, “but Cynthia would rather talk.”
    And Mrs. Wayde still was talking.
    â€œIf Alf’s interested, he can do anything, but when he loses interest he drifts away to somewhere else. I hope you can keep him interested. With Willis growing up he ought to go to school regularly. I can’t go on teaching him much longer. I hope Alf will like it here and I hope you’ll like him, Mr. Harcourt.”
    â€œIf I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let him have the cottage, Mrs. Wayde,” Mr. Harcourt said.
    â€œNow you’ve mentioned it,” Mrs. Wayde said, “it isn’t right charging us so little rent, but maybe Alfred got the figure wrong.”
    Mr. Harcourt placed his napkin on the table.
    â€œIt’s business, Mrs. Wayde,” he said. “Not that I won’t be glad to look across the lawn at night and see lights in the cottage. It’s to my advantage to have you and your husband contented.”
    His flat measured voice left no room for argument.
    â€œThere are difficulties in running any business. My son Bryson, whom I hope you’ll meet later, will take over eventually, but in the meanwhile when the windmill breaks I have to fix it in my own way. Tomorrow I want to talk to you about sending Willis to school, and if there’s anything you need, please ask me, Mrs. Wayde.”
    Willis saw his mother gaze blankly at Mr. Harcourt.
    â€œI’m glad if you appreciate Alf,” she said. “A lot of his bosses haven’t. All I can say is thank you.”
    â€œDon’t thank me,” Mr. Harcourt said. He pushed back his chair. “Alfred.”
    â€œA small explosive charge is better than a big one,” Alfred Wayde was saying, “if you’re familiar with the conditions, ma’am. Too much power always is a waste.”
    â€œAlfred,” Mr. Harcourt said again, and Alfred Wayde looked up. “You and I might have our brandy and coffee in the library, and Willis can come with us.”
    â€œI ought to get back to unpack,” Mrs. Wayde said, looking at Mrs. Blood. “Willis can take me home.”
    They had all risen from the table, and Mr. Harcourt smiled at Mrs. Blood.
    â€œIt’s early still,” he said. “Ruth, please induce Mrs. Wayde to stay a little longer. You haven’t had an opportunity yet to make her feel at home.”
    â€œYes, Henry,” Mrs. Blood said. “Please don’t leave me alone, Mrs. Wayde.”
    As Willis followed Mr. Harcourt and his father into the hall, he heard Mrs. Blood speak again.
    â€œEvery time I visit my brother,” she was saying,