CHAPTER VII
DORA BANNISTER TAKES TIME AND A MARE BY THE FORELOCK
Very early that afternoon Miss Dora Bannister was driven to Cobhurst tocall upon the young lady who had been taken sick, and who ought not to beneglected by the ladies of Thorbury. Dora had asked her stepmother toaccompany her, but as that good lady seldom made calls, and disliked longdrives, and could not see why it was at all necessary for her to go, Dorawent alone.
When the open carriage with its pair of handsome grays had bumped overthe rough entrance to the Cobhurst estate, and had drawn up to the frontof the house, Miss Dora skipped lightly out, and rang the door-bell. Sherang twice, and as no one came, and as the front door was wide open, shestepped inside to see if she could find any one. She had never been inthat great wide hall before, and she was delighted with it, although itappeared to be in some disorder. Two boxes and a trunk were stillstanding where they had been placed when they were brought from thestation. She looked through the open door of the parlor, but there was noone there, and then she knocked on the door of a closed room.
No answer came, and she went to the back door of the long hall and lookedout, but not a soul could she see. This was discouraging, but she was nota girl who would willingly turn back, after having set out on an errandof mercy. There was a door which seemed to lead to the basement, and onthis she knocked, but to no purpose.
"This is an awfully funny house," she said to herself. "If I could seeany stairs, I might go up a little way and call. Surely there must besomebody alive somewhere." Then the thought suddenly came into her mindthat perhaps want of life in the particular person she had come to seemight be the reason of this dreadful stillness and desertion, and withouta moment's hesitation she stepped out of the back door into the open air.She could not stay in that house another second until she knew. Surelythere must be some one on the place who could tell her what had happened.
Approaching the gardener's house, she met Phoebe just coming outof the door.
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the woman of color. "Is that you, Miss Dora?Mike hollered to me that a kirridge had come, and I was a-hurryin' up tothe house to see who it was."
"I came to call on Miss Haverley," said Dora. "How is she, Phoebe, andcan I see her?"
"Oh, she's well enough, and you can see her if you can find her; but tosave my soul, Miss Dora, I couldn't tell you where she is at this minute.You never did in all your life see anybody like that Miss Miriam is. Why,true as I speak, the very sparrers in the trees isn't as wild as she is.From sunrise this morning she has been on the steady go. You'd think, tosee her, that the hens and the cows and the colts and even the old appletrees was all silver and gold and diamonds in her eyes, she takes on soabout 'em. I can't keep up with her, I can't. The last time I see her,she was goin' into the barn, and I reckon she's thar yit, huntin' hens'nests. If you like, I'll go look for her, Miss Dora."
Phoebe had often worked for the Bannister family, and Dora knew her to beone of the slowest movers among mankind; besides, the idea of callingupon a young lady who was engaged in looking for hens' nests in a barnwas an exceedingly attractive one. It had not been long since Dora hadtaken much delight in that sort of thing herself.
"You needn't trouble yourself, Phoebe," she said; "I will walk over tothe barn. I would a great deal rather do that than wait in the house. IfI don't see her there, I will come back and leave our cards."
"You might as well do that," said Phoebe, laughing, "for if she isn'tthar, she's as like as not at the other end of the farm in the fieldwhere the colts is."
The Cobhurst barn was an unusual, and, indeed, a remarkable structure. Itwas not as old as the house, although it had been built many years ago byMathias Butterwood, in a fashion to suit his own ideas of what a barnshould be.
It was an enormous structure, a great deal larger than the house, andbuilt of stone. It stood against a high bluff, and there was an entranceon the level to the vast lower story, planned to accommodate Mr.Butterwood's herd of fine cattle. A little higher up, a wide causeway,supported by an arch, led into the second story, devoted to horses andall kinds of vehicles, and still higher, almost on a level with thehouse, there was a road, walled on each side, by which the loadedhaywagons could be driven in upon the great third floor of the barn.
When Dora Bannister reached this barn, having followed a path which ledto the lower story, she looked in at an open door, and received theimpression of vast extent, emptiness, and the scent of hay. She entered,looking about from side to side. At the opposite end of the great room,was an open door through which the sun shone, and as she approached it,she heard a voice and the cracking of cornstalks outside.
Standing in the doorway, she looked out, and saw a large barnyard, theground near the door covered with fresh straw which seemed to have beenrecently strewn there. The yard beyond was a neglected and bad-lookingexpanse, into which no young lady would be likely to penetrate, and fromwhich Dora would have turned away instantly, had she not seen, crossingit, a young man and a horse.
The young man was leading the horse by its forelock, and was walkingin a sidewise fashion, with his back toward Dora. The horse, arough-looking creature, seemed reluctant to approach the barn, and itsleader frequently spoke to it encouragingly, and patted its neck, ashe moved on.
This young man was tall and broad-shouldered. He wore a light soft hat,which well suited his somewhat curling brown hair. A corduroy suit andhigh top boots, in which he strode fearlessly through the debris anddirt of the yard, gave him, in Dora's eyes, a manly air, and she longedfor him to turn his face toward her, that she might speak to him, andask him where she would be apt to find his sister--for of course thismust be Mr. Haverley.
But he did not turn; instead of that he now backed himself toward thestable door, pulling the horse after him. Dora was pleased to stand andlook at him; his movements struck her as athletic and graceful. He wasnow so near that she felt she ought to make her presence known. Shestepped out upon the fresh straw, intending to move a little out of hisway and then accost him, but he spoke first.
"Good," he said; "don't you want to take hold of this mare by theforelock, as I am doing, and keep her here until I get a halter?" And ashe spoke he turned toward Miss Bannister.
His face was a handsome one, fully equal in quality to his height, hisshoulders, and his grace of movement. His blue eyes opened wide at thesight of the young lady in gray hat and ostrich plumes, fashionabledriving costume edged with fur, for the spring air was yet cool, andbright silk parasol, for the spring sun was beginning to be warm. Withalmost a stammer, he said:--
"I beg your pardon, I thought it was my sister I heard behind me."
"Oh, it doesn't matter in the least," said Dora, with a charming smile;"I am Miss Bannister. I live in Thorbury, and I came to call on yoursister. Phoebe told me she thought she was out here, and so I came tolook for her myself. A barn is so charming to me, especially a great onelike this, that I would rather make a call in it than in the house."
"I will go and look for her," said Ralph. "She cannot be far away." Andthen he glanced at the horse, as if he were in doubt what to do with itat this juncture.
"Oh, let me hold your horse," cried Dora, putting down the parasol by theside of the barn and approaching; "I mean while you go and get itshalter. I am ever so fond of horses, and like to hold them and feed themand pet them. Is this one gentle?"
"I don't know much about her," said Ralph, laughing, "for we have justtaken possession of the place, and are only beginning to find out whatanimals we own, and what they are like. This old mare seems gentleenough, though rather obstinate. I have just brought her in out of thefields, where she has been grazing ever since the season opened."
"She looks like a very good horse, indeed," said Dora, patting thetangled hair on the creature's neck.
"I brought her in," said Ralph, "thinking I might rub her down, and gether into proper trim for use. My sister is much disappointed to find thatout of our four horses, two are unbroken colts, and
one is in constantuse by the man. I think if I can give her a drive, even if it is behind ajogging old mare, it will set up her spirits again."
"You must let me hold her," said Dora, "while you get the halter, andthen you can tie her, while we go and look for your sister. Don'tthink of such a thing as letting her go, after all your trouble incatching her."
"If I could get her into these stables," said Ralph, "I might shut herin, but I don't think that I shall be able to pull her through thatdoorway in this fashion."
Without further ado, Miss Dora put out her right hand, in its neatlyfitting kid glove, and took hold of the mare's forelock, just aboveRalph's hand. The young man demurred an instant, and then, laughing, raninto the stable to find a halter. His ownership of everything was sofresh that he forgot that the lower part of the barn was occupied by thecow stables--which the old mare did not wish to enter, or even approach.He hurriedly rummaged here and there among the stalls, finding nothingbut some chains and rope's ends fastened to the mangers, but in his hastysearch he could not help thinking how extremely ingenuous and neighborlywas that handsome girl outside.
Dora held firmly the forelock of the mare, and patted the good animal'shead with the other hand; but, strange to say, the animal did not likebeing held by the young lady, and gradually she backed, first toward theside of the barn, and then out toward the open yard. Dora attempted torestrain her, but in spite of all her efforts was obliged to follow theretrogressive animal.
"It's my gloves she doesn't like," she said to herself; "I know somehorses can't bear the smell of kid, but I can't take them off now, and Iwill not let go. I wish he would hurry with the halter."
Little by little poor Dora was pulled forward, until she reached a spotwhich was at the very end of the clean straw, and yet not very far fromthe wall of the barn. Here she vigorously endeavored to make a stand,for if she went another step forward her dainty boots would sink intomud and dirt.
"Whoa!" she called out to the mare; "whoa, now!"
At the sound of these words, plainly uttered in trouble, Ralph, whohappened to be in a stall next to the barn wall looking over some ropes,glanced through a little window about four feet from the ground, and sawMiss Bannister very close to him, tottering on the edge of the straw, andjust about to let go of the mare, or step into the mire. Before he couldshape words to tell her to release her dangerous hold, or make up hismind to rush around to the door to go to her assistance, she saw him, andthrowing out her left hand in his direction, she exclaimed:--
"Oh, hold me, please."
Instantly Ralph put out his long arm, and caught her by the hand.
"Thank you," said Miss Dora. "In another moment she would have pulled meinto the dirt. Perhaps now I can make her walk up on the clean straw.Come, come," she continued persuasively to the mare, which, however,obstinately declined to advance.
"Let go of her, I beg of you, Miss Bannister," cried Ralph. "It will hurtyou to be pulled on two sides in this way."
Dora was a strong young girl, and so far the pulling had not hurt her atall. In fact, she liked it, at least on one side.
"Oh, I couldn't think of letting her go," she replied, "after all thetrouble you have had in catching her. The gate is open, and in a minuteshe would be out in the field again. If she will only make a few stepsforward, I am sure I can hold her until you come out. If you would drawme in a little bit, Mr. Haverley, perhaps she would follow."
Ralph did not in the least object to hold the smoothly gloved little handin his own, but he was really afraid that the girl would be hurt, if shepersisted in this attempt to make a halter of herself. If he released hishold, he was sure she would be jerked face forward into the mire, or atleast be obliged to step into it; and as for the mare, it was plain to beseen that she did not intend to come any nearer the shed. He thereforedoubled his entreaties that she would let the beast go, as it made nodifference whether she ran into the fields or not. He could easily catchher again, or the man could.
"I don't want to let her go," said Dora. "Your sister would have a prettyopinion of me when she is ready to take her drive, and finds that I havelet her horse run away; and, besides, I don't like to give up things. Doyou like to give up things? I am sure you don't, for I saw you bringingthis horse into the yard, and you were very determined about it. If I lether go, all your determination and trouble will have been for nothing. Ishould not like that. Come, come, you obstinate creature, just two stepsforward. I have some lumps of sugar in my pocket which I keep to give toour horses, but of course I can't get it with both my hands occupied. Iwish I had thought of the sugar. By the way, the sugar is not in mypocket; after all, it is in this little bag on my belt; I don't supposeyou could reach it."
Ralph stretched out his other hand, but he could not reach the littleleather bag with its silver clasp. If he could have jumped out of thewindow, he would have done so without hesitation, but the aperture wasnot large enough. He could not help being amused by the dilemma in whichhe was placed by this young lady's inflexibility. He did not know a girl,his sister not excepted, whom, under the circumstances, he would not haveleft to the consequences of what he would have called her obstinacy. Butthere was something about Dora--some sort of a lump of sugar--whichprevented him from letting go of her hand.
"I never saw a horse," said she, "nor, indeed, any sort of a livingthing, which was so unwilling to come to me. You are very good to hold meso strongly, and I am sure I don't mind waiting a little longer, untilsome one comes by."
"There is no one to come by," exclaimed Ralph, "and I most earnestlybeg of you--"
At this moment the horse began to back; Miss Dora's fingers nervouslyclasped themselves about Ralph's hand, which pressed hers more closelyand vigorously than before. There was a strong pull, a little jerk, andthe forelock of the mare slipped out of Miss Dora's hand.
"There!" she cried; "that is exactly what I knew would happen. The wickedcreature has galloped out of the gate."
The young lady now made a step or two nearer the barn, Ralph stillholding her hand, as if to assist her to a better footing.
She did not need the assistance at all, but she looked up gratefully, asRalph loosened his grasp, and she gently withdrew her hand.
"Thank you ever so much," she said. "If it had not been for you, I do notknow where I should have been pulled to; but it is too bad that the horsegot off, after all."
"Don't mention it," said Ralph. "I'll have her again in no time," andthen he ran outside to join her.
"Now, sir," said she, and giving him no time to make any proposition, "Ishould like very much to find your sister, and see her, for at least afew moments before I go. Do you think she is anywhere in this gloriousold barn? Phoebe told me she was."
"Is this a girl or a woman?" thought Ralph to himself. The charming andfashionable costume would have settled this question in the mind of alady, but Ralph felt a little puzzled. But be the case what it might, itwould be charming to go with her through the barn or anywhere else. Asthey walked over the lower floor of the edifice toward the stairway inthe corner, Dora remarked:--
"How happy your cows ought to be, Mr. Haverley, to have such a wide, coolplace as this to live in. What kind of cows have you?"
"Indeed, I don't know," said Ralph, laughing. "I haven't had time to maketheir acquaintance. I have seen them, only from a distance. They are buta very small herd, and I am sure there are no fancy breeds among them."
"Do you know," said Dora, as they went up the broad steps, sprinkled withstraw and hayseed, "that what are called common cows are often reallybetter than Alderneys, or Ayrshires, and those sorts? And this is thesecond story! How splendid and vast! What do you have here?"
"On the right are the horse stables," said Ralph, "and in those stallsthere should be a row of prancing chargers and ambling steeds; and on thegreat empty floor, which you see over here, there should be thecarriages,--the coupe, the family carriage, the light wagon, the ponyphaeton, the top buggy, and all the other vehicles which people in thecountry
need. But, alas! you only see that old hay-wagon, which I am surewould fall to pieces if horses attempted to pull it, and that affairwith two big wheels and a top. I think they call it a gig, and I believeold Mr. Butterwood used to drive about in it."
"Indeed he did," said Dora. "I remember seeing him when I was a littlegirl. It must be very comfortable. I should think your sister and youwould enjoy driving in that. In a gig, you know, you can goanywhere--into wood-roads, and all sorts of places where you couldn'tturn around with anything with four wheels. And how nice it is that ithas a top. I've heard it said that Mr. Butterwood would always haveeverything comfortable for himself. Perhaps your sister is in some ofthese smaller rooms. What are they?"
"Oh, harness rooms, and I know not what," answered Ralph, and then hecalled out:--
"Miriam!" His voice was of a full, rich tone, and it was echoed from thebare walls and floors.
"If my sister is in the barn at all," said Ralph, "I think she must be onthe floor above this, for there is the hay, and the hens' nests, if thereare any--"
"Oh, let us go up there," said Dora; "that is just where we ought tofind her."
There was not the least affectation in Dora's delight, as she stood onthe wide upper floor of the barn. Its great haymows rose on either side,not piled to the roof as before, but with enough hay left over fromformer years to fill the air with that delightful scent of mingledcleanliness and sweetness which belongs to haylofts. At the back was awide open door with a bar across it, out of which she saw afar-stretching landscape, rich with varied colors of spring, and througha small side door at the other end of the floor, which there was levelwith the ground, came a hen, clucking to a brood of black-eyed, downylittle chicks, which she was bringing in for the night to the spacioushome she had chosen for them.
Whether or not Dora would have enjoyed all this as much had she beenalone is a point not necessary to settle, but she was a true countrygirl, and had loved chickens, barns, and hay from her babyhood up. Shestepped quickly to the open door, and she and Ralph leaned upon the barand looked out upon the beautiful scene.
"How charming it will be," she said, "for your sister to come here andsit with her reading or sewing. She can look out and see you, almostwherever you happen to be on your farm."
"I don't believe Miriam will be content to sit still and watch anybody,"replied Ralph. "I wonder where she can be;" and twice he called her, oncedirecting his voice up toward the haymows and once out into the open air.Dora still leaned on the bar and looked out.
"It would be nice if we could see her walking somewhere in the fields,"she said, and she and Ralph both swept the landscape with their eyes, butthey saw nothing like a moving girl in shade or sunshine.
Miss Bannister was not in the least embarrassed, as she stood here withthis young man whom she had met such a little time before. She did notaltogether feel that she was alone with him. The thought that any momentthe young man's sister might make one of the party, produced a sensationnot wholly unlike that of knowing she was already there.
The view of the far-off hills with the shadows across their sides andtheir forest-covered tops glistening in the sunshine was veryattractive, and there was a blossomy perfume in the outside air whichmingled charmingly with the hay-scents from within; but Dora felt thatit would not do to protract her pleasure in these things, especially asshe noticed signs of a slight uneasiness on the face of her companion.Probably he wanted to go and look for his sister, so they walked slowlyover the floor of the great hayloft, and out of the little door wherethe hen and chickens had come in, and Ralph accompanied the young ladyto her carriage.
"I am sure I shall find Thomas and the horses fast asleep," said she,"for I have made a long call, or, at least, have tried to make one, andyou must tell your sister that my stay proves how much I wanted to seeher. I hope she will call on me the first time she comes to Thorbury."
"Oh, I shall drive her over on purpose," said Ralph, and, with a smile,Miss Bannister declared that would be charming.
When the carriage had rolled upon the smooth road outside of Cobhurst,Miss Dora drew off her left glove and looked at her wrist. "Dear me!"said she to herself, "I thought he would have squeezed those buttonsentirely through my skin, but I wouldn't have said a word for anything. Iwonder what sort of a girl his sister is. If she resembles him, I know Ishall like her."
The Girl at Cobhurst Page 7
