Barbara Ladd
Page 21
CHAPTER XXI.
After supper, when Barbara came down dressed for riding and calmly toldRobert she was ready, Mistress Mehitable gasped, and looked atGlenowen, expecting that he would meet the emergency by making a third.As he seemed unconscious of the need of action, she shot an appealingglance at Doctor Jim and Doctor John in turn. But they only grinnedinscrutably. Then she lifted her hands slightly and let them drop intoher lap, as if to say, "Bear witness, Heaven, that I am helpless!" andthus she stifled the voice of protest in her bosom. She had givenBarbara freedom, and the responsibility that goes with freedom; and shewould not take back the gift. But it was one of the notable victoriesof Mistress Mehitable's career, when she forced herself to sit insmiling acquiescence while Barbara flew full in the face of allconvention. Amos, meanwhile, had brought the horses to the door; andwhen the two young riders were gone, the hoof-beats sounding in slowcadence down the drive, Glenowen said to her, with an understandingsmile, "You did right, sweet lady. 'Tis a filly, that, to be riddenwithout the curb. Give her her head, and you'll have no great trouble!"
"I feel sure you are right, Mr. Glenowen," said Mistress Mehitable,sweetly. "But you may well believe it was a hard lesson for me, a Laddof Connecticut, to learn. And I fear I have not more than half learnedit yet!"
"You can learn anything you have a mind to, Mehitable," said DoctorJim, with emphasis, "in the time it would take another woman to learnthe A, B, C of it!"
Neither Barbara nor Robert spoke till the horses emerged upon thehighway. Then Barbara cried:
"Quick! Quick! I want the wind in my face!"
With two miles of good road before them, they set their faces to thenight breeze and their horses to the run, and raced madly down themoonlight, their shadows dancing long and black before them. Thesaddle-leathers creaked a low, exhilarating music, and the gallopingswung like a pulse, and the roadside fence and shrubs fled by, and theworld was white in the moonlight. And still there was no speech, savea soft word now and then to the rejoicing horses, whose ears turnedback for it sympathetically from time to time.
At length they came to rougher ground, and slowed to a gentle canter.Then Robert noticed a narrow wood-road turning off to the right,vaulted over with lofty trees, and mystical with moon-shadows.
"Where does that road go, my lady?" he inquired.
"Where we are going!" answered Barbara, turning into it at a walk.Then, as if she thought the answer too whimsical, she continued, "Itwill take us back to the village by a longer and more beautiful way!"
"Any longer way would be the more beautiful way!" said Robert.
The reply interested Barbara, and in musing over it she forgot to sayanything more.
The wood-road, thick-carpeted with turf and moss, muffled the horses'hoofs, and an enchanted silence sank into the hearts of the youngriders. Here and there the woods gave back for a little clearing witha lonely cabin; and the moonlight flooded in; and around the edges ofthe clearing the thick-leaved branches seemed afloat, bubbles of glassand silver on a sea of dream. Then, again, the fairy-lit glooms,haunted but unterrifying! And Barbara began to think repentantly ofher harshness toward Robert. Soon the road dipped sharply, and crosseda wide, shallow brook, upon whose pebbles the horses' hoofs splashed alight music. Here they let the horses drink a mouthful, becauseBarbara said the waters of that brook were especially sweet. When theyemerged on the other side, Barbara discovered she wanted a drink of itherself, so sovereign were the virtues of that water.
"How shall I bring it to you?" asked Robert, instantly dismounting, andcasting a hasty glance about him in quest of a birch-tree, from whosebark to make a cup.
"Make me a cup of your hands, of course!" said Barbara. "Give me yourreins. I must have the water, at once!"
Robert removed his leather gloves, rinsed his hands in the slidingsand, and then, with mighty painstaking care, got at least twomouthfuls of the crystal uplifted to Barbara's lips. As she sipped,and light as a moth her lips touched his hands, his heart seemed toturn over in his breast, and he could not find voice for a word.Silently he remounted, and in silence they ascended the slope from thebrook. His apparent unresponsiveness puzzled Barbara; but an awakeningintuition suggested to her that it was perhaps not so uncomplimentaryas it might seem; and she was not displeased.
For half an hour they walked their horses thus, Robert sometimes layinga light hand on Black Prince's shoulder or satiny flank, but neverdaring to touch so much as Barbara's skirt. Then they saw the highwayopening ahead of them, a ribbon of moonlit road. Barbara reined up.
"I think my saddle is slipping a little," said she. "I don't believeAmos can have girt it tight enough!"
"Why, I--" began Robert, about to remind her that, like a goodhorseman, he had himself looked well to the girth before letting hermount. But he cut the words short on his tongue, sprang from hissaddle, and busied himself intently with Black Prince's straps. Whenhe raised his head, Barbara smiled down upon him, and reached him herleft hand, saying sweetly:
"Thank you, Robert. You are really very nice, you know!"
Whereupon Robert bent abruptly, kissed the instep of the littleriding-boot which stuck out from under her skirt, and swung into hissaddle.
The action thrilled Barbara somewhat, but at the same time piqued herinterest; and the interest dominated.
"Why did you do that, Robert?" she asked, curiously, looking at himwith wide, frank eyes. "I didn't mind it a bit, you know! But it'sfunny, to kiss my old shoe!"
Robert gave a little unsteady laugh.
"It was homage, my lady," said he. "Just my pledge of fealty, before Igo. You forget--I have the misfortune to displease you by being amonarchist!"
Barbara was silent a moment. She was sorry he had reminded her oftheir differences of opinion. But, on the other hand, homage was notunpleasant; and her scorn of kings did not of necessity extend toqueens.
"_Why_ do you go?" she asked.
"My grandmother is sending me at a moment's notice, to represent her ina law-scrape which some property of hers--of ours--in New York hassuddenly got into. You know that, now that I am through college, Ihave to get down to work at once in New York, and fit myself to lookafter our estates. But I didn't dream I should have to go so soon!"
"I am sorry!" said Barbara, simply. "We were having such a pleasanttime together!"
"Were we, dear lady?" asked Robert.
"_Weren't_ we?" demanded Barbara.
"I am broken-hearted at going. I dare not tell you howbroken-hearted!" replied Robert, gravely. "But until this ride I havebeen rather unhappy to-day, for you have several times made me feelthat you were displeased at my coming!"
Now Barbara hated explanations, and she hated still more to be accusedjustly. Urging Black Prince to a canter, she retorted:
"I have no patience with you, Robert. I have been an angel to you.Didn't I ride almost half-way home with you, when you were here before?And now, haven't I let you come this _perfect_ ride with me,--when Iknow Aunt Hitty thought I oughtn't? And you don't _deserve_ that Ishould even let you talk to me one minute, when you are such a stupid,bigoted Tory."
Robert thought of many things to say in answer to this dashing flankattack; but each answer seemed to carry unknown perils, so he kept aprudent silence. After some time Barbara spoke again, mistaking hissilence for contrition.
"Robert," she began, in a voice of thrilling persuasion, "won't you dosomething I very much want you to do?"
"I can think of no other pleasure to compare with the pleasure ofpleasing you, my lady!" he answered, ardently.
"Then, will you not _really study_, without prejudice, the things thatare at the bottom of the trouble between us and King George? You havesuch a good brain, Robert, I cannot think you will be on the side of aking against your own country, when you have fully informed yourself!"
Robert looked troubled.
"I can honestly promise," said he, "to study the question still morecarefully than I have already. Bu
t I fear you will still consider meobstinate, even then. If I could imagine myself disloyal to the king,I should not consider myself worthy to profess myself your ever loyaland devoted servant, fair mistress!"
"To serve me, Robert, you must serve your country!"
"And to serve my country, most dear lady, I must serve the king!"persisted Robert.
Barbara set her lips tight together, and galloped on.
"I wish you better wisdom as you grow older!" she said, coldly, aftersome minutes.
"The best wisdom I may ever hope to attain will be all too little toserve you with, my lady!" answered Robert, half gallantly, yet all inearnest. And Barbara could not but vouchsafe a reluctant smile inacknowledgment of so handsome a compliment. Thereafter there waslittle more said. They rode through the village, past the lighted inn,up the dim moonlit road to the porch of Westings House. But whenRobert, with a sort of bold deference, lifted her from her saddle,holding her, perhaps, just a shade more closely than was requisite, shefelt in a forgiving mood. She knew that she liked him, she knew shehad been unpleasant to him, she was most sorry he was going away; andwhat were old kings anyway that friends should be at loggerheads aboutthem? Answering her own thought, she impulsively pulled off her glove,and gave Robert her bare hand.
"We will be friends, won't we, king or no king?"
And the radiance of the smile she lifted to him, as he held her thinlittle hand in both his own, nearly turned the poor boy's head. Hebent over her--and just saved himself, with a gasp, from kissing theignorantly provocative mouth so rashly upraised. But he recovered hisbalance, in part, and compensated himself by kissing the handpassionately,--fingers and soft palm, and rosy oval nails, andwrist,--in a fashion that seemed to Barbara very singular. At lengthshe withdrew the hand with a soft laugh, saying, composedly:
"There, don't you think that will do, Robert? You did not kiss Mrs.Sawyer's hand like that, did you?"
"Of course I did!" declared Robert. "There was more of it to kiss, soI kissed it more!"
"Now you are horrid!" she cried, and ran past him into the house.
But when he said good-bye to them all on the porch the next morning,and set forth on his long ride back to Gault House, Robert carried withhim in the pocket over his heart what Barbara considered the highesttoken of her favour, her well-studied, intimately marked,oft-slept-with copy of Sir Philip Sidney's sonnets.