CHAPTER XIV.
All the next morning Mistress Mehitable and Barbara were busyoverhauling Barbara's frocks. Such as would admit of it were let downsome three or four inches. Of the others, two of rich material werelaid away in Mistress Mehitable's huge carved oak chest lined withcedar, a repository of varied treasures of the loom. The rest, threein number and plain of weave, were set aside to be given to MercyChapman. There was much important planning, much interestingconsultation; and in this feminine intimacy they grew ever closer toeach other, throwing off the watchful self-consciousness, the sense ofadmiring and reciprocal discovery, which made them more happy than atease in each other's company.
Early in the afternoon Barbara decided she would go out to herfavourite apple-tree in the back garden and read. She openly took downthe second volume of "Clarissa Harlowe,"--having already got throughthe first volume in surreptitious moments. Mistress Mehitablediscreetly, but with difficulty and some soul-questioning, refrainedfrom admonition. Barbara felt in her heart a faint quaver oftrepidation, as she thus frankly assumed her independence; but she hadthe full courage of her convictions, and outwardly she was calm.
"Mr. Richardson does not seem to me a very strong writer," she remarkedat the door,--"especially after one has read those wonderful plays ofMr. Shakespeare and Mr. Ben Jonson, as I did at home in Maryland! Butevery one should know 'Clarissa,' shouldn't they, dear?"
Mistress Mehitable gasped. She, too, had read those wonderful plays ofMr. Shakespeare and Mr. Ben Jonson. But she was thoroughbred, and gaveno sign of her dismay.
"I never liked the lady, myself, dear," she answered, casually. "Shealways seemed to me rather silly."
This was Barbara's own judgment, and confirmed her new appreciation ofher aunt's intelligence. At the same time, this apparently easyacceptance, on Mistress Mehitable's part, of Barbara's emancipation,seemed almost too good to be true. Her heart swelled passionatelytoward this blue-eyed, calm, patrician little woman, whom she had solong misunderstood. She came back, put a caressing arm around MistressMehitable's waist, kissed her fervently, and looked deep into her eyes.Mistress Mehitable actually trembled in the recesses of her soul lestthat searching gaze should discover what she had nearly said aboutyoung girls and novel-reading! But she kept the blue deeps of her eyesclear and tranquil, and her lips smiled frank response.
"Oh, you are so good and wonderful and wise, honey," Barbara said, atlength. "What a foolish, foolish child I've been,--and you, my dear,dear father's sister! Why, just to look at you ought to have broughtme to my senses. So _many_ ways you look like him!"
Then a thing very remarkable indeed took place. Mistress Mehitable'sfine poise wavered and vanished. She almost clutched Barbara to herbreast, then buried her head on the firm young shoulders and cried alittle quite unrestrainedly, feeling a great ache in her heart for herdead brother Winthrop, and a great love in her heart for her deadbrother's child. Barbara was surprised, but greatly touched by thisoutburst. She held her close, and patted her hair, and called her softnames suddenly remembered from the soft-voiced endearments ofplantation days; till presently Mistress Mehitable recovered, andlaughed gently through her tears.
"Don't think me silly, dear," she pleaded, "but I've just realised forthe first time that you have your dear father's wonderful eyes. Yourcolouring, and your hair, and your mouth, are all very different fromhis. But your eyes,--they are his _exactly_. Such wonderful, deep,clear, _true_ eyes, Barbara, sometimes sea-gray, sometimes sea-green.Where have my eyes been all this time?"
Barbara sighed happily. "Isn't it lovely we have found each other atlast, Aunt Hitty? I don't think it will be so hard now for me to begood!"
Then she picked up "Clarissa" again, and ran gaily out to the garden.
Barbara's apple-tree had three great limbs branching out at about fivefeet from the ground, forming a most luxurious crotch in which to sitand read. Smaller apple-trees, interspersed with tangled shrubbery andsome trellised vines, almost surrounded it, so that on three sides itafforded perfect seclusion. Sweet airs breathed through it, from theneighbouring thyme and mint beds; and sunshine sifted down through itsleaves in an intricate and exquisite pattern; and a pair of catbirds,nesting in the shrubs close by, made it their haunt without regard toBarbara's presence. As she looked at this dear nook, with all itsmemories of intimate hours and dreams, Barbara thought to herself howglad she was that she had not succeeded in running away from SecondWestings. She clambered cleverly into the tree, settled herself with along breath of satisfaction, swung her little scarlet-shod feet idlytoo and fro, and made a long, absorbing survey of her green realm.Then, locking her ankles lithely as only a slim girl can, she openedher book, and was soon engrossed in the fortunes of Lovelace andClarissa.
About the time that Barbara was settling herself in the apple-tree,Robert Gault was triumphantly pushing Barbara's canoe to land throughthe gold-green sedges on the Second Westings shore of the little lake.With pole and paddle he had made the ascent of the stream from GaultHouse, having been seized that morning with a violent conviction thatit was his duty to return the canoe without delay. He had poledthrough the rapids, and paddled eagerly through the silent solemnitiesof the woods, too intent upon his purpose to be alive to their mysticinfluences. The furtive eyes that watched him from pine-tree boll andironwood bush, from skyey branch or moss-veiled root, touched not hisconsciousness. To his self-centred mood the peopled stillness wasempty as a desert. His eyes, at other times alert and not uninitiated,were turned inward upon his own dreams. He emerged from the greatshadows, paddled through the meadowy windings with their iris-beds andlilies, and passed at length old Debby's clamorous dooryard, givinghardly a glance to the green slope with its ducks and fowls, the littlered-doored cabin against its trees, or old Debby herself, with thecock-eared yellow pup beside her, sitting on the stoop. He was in ahurry, and had caught glimpses of the open waters of the lake beyond;and he knew from Barbara's description that Mistress Mehitable'slanding-place was straight across the lake.
But old Debby, sitting knitting in the sun with the cock-eared yellowpup beside her, saw him, and chuckled at his haste. She had been overto Second Westings the day before, and had got the whole story fromDoctor Jim. She had made up her mind to keep well out of the way, tillBarbara's indignation should have time to cool; but she was mightilyinterested in the youth who had been so readily persuaded to thebacking of Barbara's mad venture. A moment later she made up her mindthat she must have a good look at him, a word with him if possible.She got up and hobbled actively down to the shore; but Robert's hastehad carried him already beyond earshot.
Following the path up from the lake-shore, Robert crossed thecow-pasture and climbed the bars back of the barn. Here he was met andchallenged by Keep, the mastiff, who, with the discernment of awell-bred dog, appreciated Robert's good clothes, nosed his handcordially, and let him pass without protest. Keep knew a gentleman ata glance, and was convinced that good manners meant good morals. Hehad no fear of Robert setting fire to the barn.
Seeking a way to the front of the house, Robert passed through thewicket leading into the back garden. Suddenly, between the tall clumpsof hollyhocks, he stopped short, and his heart gave a queer littlesliding leap. His breath came quick and light, in a way that greatlyperplexed him. What he saw to so disturb him was a pair of littlescarlet shoes, two small ankles, and a few inches of slim, shapely silkstockings, lithely intertwined, and vividly in evidence beneath ascreen of apple-leaves.
Robert did not need any one to tell him that the rest of thebewildering picture, hidden behind the screen of apple-leaves, was thesmall, inspiring lady, Mistress Barbara Ladd. He hesitated, and wasalmost on the point of slipping away,--he knew not why, for the life ofhim. Then, recovering a part of his composure, he stepped forward intrepidation, hat in hand, forgot the graceful speeches on which he waswont to pride himself, and stammered--"Mistress Barbara!--I beg yourpardon!"
The slim ankles unlocked, "Clari
ssa" fell upon the grass, and lightlyas a bird Barbara sprang down from her perch, unconscious,unembarrassed, gracious in her greetings. She smiled him radiantwelcome, frankly pleased, and held out her hand to be kissed.
"Why, how did you come?" she cried, gaily, "stealing in this waythrough the back premises?"
"By water, dear lady," he answered, still stammering. "I brought backthe canoe, you know!"
"By my dear river, and through the great, still woods!" she exclaimed,looking him over with clear eyes of approval. "How lovely! I wish I'dbeen with you!"
"I wish you had!" said Robert, with devout conviction.
"But how tired you must be, all that journey against the current.Really, Robert, it was _very_ nice of you to come so soon!"
Now Robert was in a sad state of bewilderment, dazzled by eyes and lipsand scarlet shoes. And he was further shaken from his customary poiseby his perception of Barbara's change in the arrangement of her hair,and by what seemed a sudden increase in her stature through thelengthening of her frocks. Otherwise he would not have been so stupidas to imagine that the promptitude of his coming called for any apologyin Barbara's eyes, whatever might be the opinion of Doctor John, orDoctor Jim, or Mistress Mehitable Ladd!
"I thought I ought to come at once, you know," he explained, "to bringback the canoe! Otherwise I should have waited, as I ought, for Mr.Glenowen's coming, and an invitation from him."
"Oh!" said Barbara, her face changing slightly, her voice growing alittle cooler. "That was very thoughtful of you. I couldn't sleep forthinking of the canoe!"
Robert looked at her doubtfully, wondering if that were sarcasm in hervoice.
"It's a dear canoe. I love it!" said he.
"I wonder you did not want to keep it a little longer, then,--at least,till Uncle Bob could come and send you a proper, formal invitation tobring it back!" said Barbara.
"But I wanted to bring it back now,--I thought it was such a goodexcuse for coming at once, though I knew I _ought_ to have waited forthe invitation, of course," persisted Robert, vaguely worried.
"Oh!" exclaimed Barbara, again, allowing herself to be mollified inpart, but still feeling a shade of disappointment. She was tooinexperienced to appreciate the tribute of Robert's confusion andunexpected awkwardness. She liked him so much better in his grand,elaborate, self-possessed manner, paying stately compliments, makingher feel important and grown-up by formal homage. However, hecertainly was very nice, and he certainly looked very distinguished;and she realised that, for all his apparent solicitude about returningthe canoe, the canoe was not his reason for coming so soon. She wouldforgive him,--but she would punish him! In fact, she was makingprogress in the arts of the imperishable feminine.
"Well, we shall _all_ be glad to see you, Robert," she said. "And nowyou must go straight to Doctor Jim, who did invite you, as you seem tohave forgotten! You go through that white gate, over there, and turnto the left, and then the first turn to the right puts you right on themain street. You're almost at Doctor Jim's then,--any one will pointit out to you."
"But,--I didn't come to see Doctor Jim," protested Robert, much takenaback. "I came to bring back the canoe, you know!"
"Of course, I understand!" said Barbara, sweetly. "Tell Doctor Jim andDoctor John that I want them to bring you back here presently, in anhour or two, to present you to Aunt Hitty, and have tea with us!"
"But can't I stay a _little_ while _now_,--while no one knows I am hereat all?" pleaded Robert.
Ordinarily, this was just what would have seemed reasonable anddelightful to Barbara. But just now it pleased her to discipline theboy.
"Decidedly _not_, Robert!" said she. "You know how careful you areabout etiquette,--so troubled over the idea of coming here at all onthe mere invitation of mere me! You shall not talk to me any more tillyou have been properly presented to Aunt Hitty! Besides, I am just ata _most_ interesting place in this lovely book,"--and she snatched'Clarissa' up from the grass, where it had lain forgotten sinceRobert's appearance,--"and I can't really take my mind off it till Ifind out what is going to happen. I will see you in the house, withAunt Hitty, in--let me see--about an hour and a half! Now go rightaway!"
Robert looked very miserable, but bowed submission, and backed off.
"How will Mistress Ladd receive me?" he asked, doubtfully.
"Oh," replied Barbara, one small brown hand on the apple-tree as shewaited for Robert to depart ere she climbed back to her nook, "AuntHitty is just perfect. She will be very nice to you, and will quiteapprove of you, I know. Since everything has turned out for the best,she has already forgiven you for leading her young niece into mischiefthe way you did!"
Robert stared at her in speechless amazement. But Barbara would notlet him ask any more questions. With a mocking little grimace at hisconfusion, she pointed to the white gate.
"Go away immediately!" she commanded. "And be sure you come back in anhour and a half!"
Robert turned and strode off with an aggrieved air, between thehollyhock rows. When he was half way to the gate, Barbara, who hadstood looking after him with a smile on her lips, called imperiously:
"Robert!"
He turned quickly, and snatched off his hat.
"What is it, my lady?"
"You forgot to help me into my tree!" said Barbara.
He was beside her in an instant, his face brightening. He knelt on oneknee, and held out his two hands firmly locked, to form a sort ofstirrup. Setting one light foot into this support, Barbara sprang upand in a flash was perched gracefully in her niche. It was done withsuch swiftness that Robert had hardly time to realise her foot hadtouched him. She laughed down upon him with gay commendation.
"That was very handsomely done, indeed, Robert!" she declared. "Nowhurry right away to Doctor Jim, or you'll never manage to get back inone hour and a half!" And she buried her eyes in the first page atwhich "Clarissa" chanced to open.
Robert hesitated, opened his lips as if to speak, and went without aword. Barbara, watching him from the corner of her eye, was puzzled atthe look upon his face, but felt satisfied that it was not displeasure.About half-way up the walk toward the gate, when he believed himselfunobserved, Robert gazed curiously at the palms wherein the little foothad rested for that fraction of a heart-beat. Light as was the touch,it had left a subtle tingling behind it. He pressed the place to hislips. This action astonished Barbara, but greatly interested her, andgave her, at the same time, an inexplicable thrill. Her heartunderstood it, indeed, while it remained an enigma to her brain. Andpurposeless, profitless, absurd though it seemed to her, that Robertshould kiss his own hand, she decided nevertheless that in some way theaction had expressed a more fervent homage to her than when the handthat he kissed was hers. She forgot to go on reading the excellent Mr.Richardson's romance.