“Gantry,” exploded Deacon Bains, “I want you to take your footsteps right now and turn ’em toward my house! You’ve been fooling with my daughter, and either you’re going to marry her, or Floyd and me are going to take it out of your hide, and way I feel just now, don’t much care which it is.”
“You mean to say that Lulu has been pretending—”
“Naw, Lulu ain’t said nothing. God, I wonder if I ought to let the girl marry a fellow like you? But I got to protect her good name, and guess Floyd and me can see to it you give her a square deal after the marriage. Now I’ve sent out word to invite all the neighbors to the house tonight for a little sociable to tell ’em Lulu and you are engaged, and you’re going to put on your Sunday-go-to-meeting suit and come with us, right now.”
“You can’t bully me into anything—”
“Take that side of him, Floyd, but I get the first lick. You get what’s left.”
They ranged up beside him. They were shorter, less broad, but their faces were like tanned hard leather, their eyes were hard—
“You’re a big cuss, Brother Gantry, but guess you don’t get enough exercise no more. Pretty soft,” considered Deacon Bains.
His fist was dropping down, down to his knee; his shoulder sloped down; his fist was coming up—and Floyd had suddenly pinioned Elmer’s arms.
“I’ll do it! All right! All right!” Elmer shrieked.
He’d find a way to break the engagement. Already he was recovering his poise.
“Now you fellows listen to me! I’m in love with Lulu, and I intended to ask her the moment I finish here—less than three months now—and get my first church. And then you two butt in and try to spoil this romance!”
“Hum, yes, I guess so,” Bains droned, inexpressible contempt in his dragging voice. “You save all them pretty words for Lulu. You’re going to be married the middle of May—that’ll give time enough after the engagement so’s the neighbors won’t think there’s anything wrong. Now into them clothes. Buggy waiting outside. We’ll treat you right. If you use Lulu like you ought to, and honey her up and make her feel happy again, maybe Floyd and me won’t kill you the night of your wedding. We’ll see. And we’ll always treat you fine in public—won’t even laugh when we hear you preaching. Now git, hear me?”
While he dressed, Elmer was able to keep his face turned from them, able to compose himself, so that he could suddenly whirl on them with his handsomest, his most manly and winning smile.
“Brother Bains, I want to thank Cousin Floyd and you. You’re dead wrong about thinking I wouldn’t have done right by Lulu. But I rejoice, sir, rejoice, that she is blessed by having such loyal relatives!” That puzzled rather than captured them, but he fetched them complete with a jovial, “And such husky ones! I’m pretty strong myself—keep up my exercise lot more’n you think—but I guess I wouldn’t be one-two-three with you folks! Good thing for ole Elmer you never let loose that darn’ mule-kick of yours, Brother Bains! And you’re right. No sense putting off the wedding. May fifteenth will be fine. Now I want to ask one thing: Let me have ten minutes alone with Lu before you make the announcement. I want to console her—make her happy. Oh, you can tell if I keep faith—the eagle eye of a father will know.”
“Well, my father’s eagle eye ain’t been working none too good lately, but I guess it’ll be all right for you to see her.”
“Now, will you shake hands? Please!”
He was so big, so radiant, so confident. They looked sheepish, grinned like farmers flattered by a politician, and shook hands.
There was a multitude at the Bainses’, also fried chicken and watermelon pickles.
The deacon brought Lulu to Elmer in the spare room and left her.
Elmer was at ease on the sofa; she stood before him, trembling, red-eyed.
“Come, you poor child,” he condescended.
She approached, sobbing, “Honestly, dear, I didn’t tell Pa anything—I didn’t ask him to do it—oh, I don’t want to if you don’t.”
“There, there, child. It’s all right. I’m sure you’ll make a fine wife. Sit down.” And he permitted her to kiss his hand, so that she became very happy and wept tremendously, and went out to her father rejoicing.
He considered, meanwhile, “That ought to hold you, damn you! Now I’ll figure out some way of getting out of this mess.”
At the announcement of Lulu’s engagement to a Man of God, the crowd gave hoarse and holy cheers.
Elmer made quite a long speech into which he brought all that Holy Writ had to say about the relations of the sexes—that is, all that he remembered and that could be quoted in mixed company.
“Go on, Brother! Kiss her!” they clamored.
He did, heartily; so heartily that he felt curious stirrings.
He spent the night there, and was so full of holy affection that when the family was asleep, he crept into Lulu’s bedroom. She stirred on the pillow and whispered, “Oh, my darling! And you forgave me! Oh I do love you so!” as he kissed her fragrant hair.
VI
It was usual for the students of Mizpah to let Dean Trosper know if they should become engaged. The dean recommended them for ministerial appointments, and the status of marriage made a difference. Bachelors were more likely to become assistants in large city churches; married men, particularly those whose wives had lively piety and a knowledge of cooking, were usually sent to small churches of their own.
The dean summoned Elmer to his gloomy house on the edge of the campus—it was a house which smelled of cabbage and wet ashes—and demanded:
“Gantry, just what is this business about you and some girl
