The Mountain Girl

  CHAPTER XXX

  IN WHICH CASSANDRA GOES TO QUEENSDERRY AND TAKES A DRIVE IN A PONYCARRIAGE

  Glad to be borne away from the city and out through fresh green fieldsand past pretty church-spired villages, alone in the compartment,Cassandra comforted herself with her baby, playing with him until hedropped to sleep, when she made a bed for him on the car seat with rugs,and, taking out her purse, began to count her remaining resources. Herbill at the hotel had appalled her. So much to pay to stay only a night!What would David say? But he had told her to use the money as she liked,and now she was here, there was nothing else to do.

  Laboriously she computed the amount in English money, and, reckonedthus, her dollars and cents seemed to shrink and vanish. Still, morethan half remained of what she had brought with her, and she viewed thematter calmly.

  The shadows fell long over the smooth greensward as she arrived in thevillage of Queensderry and was driven to a small inn, the only house ofentertainment in the place. She was given a pleasant room overlookingfields and orchards and bright gardens, and the sight rested her eyes,and still further calmed her troubled heart. She would rest to-night,and to-morrow all would be well.

  Never had food tasted better to her than the supper served in her prettyroom,--toast in a silver rack, and fresh butter, such as David loved,and curds and whey, and gingerbread, and a small jar of marmalade. Sheate, seated in the window, looking out over the sweet English landscapein the warm twilight--the breeze stirring the white curtains--her littleson in her lap gurgling and smiling up at her--and her heart with David,wherever he might be.

  Slowly the dusk veiled all, and one star glimmered above the slenderchurch spire. A pretty maid brought candles and a book in which she wasasked to write her name. She was the landlady's daughter and lookedwholesome and bright. Cassandra glanced in her face as she set thecandles down, and took up the pen mechanically.

  "Mother says will you sign here, please?"

  "Yes." Cassandra turned the leaves slowly and read other names andaddresses--many of them. She wrote "Cassandra Merlin--" and paused;then, making a long dash, added simply, "America," and, handing back thebook and pen, turned again to the window.

  "Thank you. Is that all?" said the maid, lingering.

  "Yes," said Cassandra again; then she laid her baby on the bed and begantaking his night clothing from her bag.

  "How pretty he is! Shan't I help you unpack, ma'm?"

  Cassandra paused, looking dreamily before her as if scarcelycomprehending, then she said: "Not to-night, thank you. Perhapsto-morrow." The maid deftly piled the supper dishes and, taking them andthe book with her, departed with a pleasant "Good night, ma'm."

  In spite of her calmness, Cassandra lay wakeful and patient, and when atlast she did sleep, it seemed to her she stood with her husband on herfather's path, looking out under overarching boughs, upon blue distancesof heaped-up mountain tops, and David's flute notes, silvery sweet, wereraining down upon her. She awoke to discover day was breaking, and apealing of bells from some distant church tower was announcing the fact.

  She gathered her babe to her throbbing heart and thought, to-day she wasto go out and meet her husband's people. How should she go? How shouldshe conduct herself? Should she go at once, or wait until the afternoon?Why had she not written her name fully in the travellers' book? Whatmysterious foreboding had caught her fingers and stayed them at hermaiden name? Was she afraid? When she arose, she found herself tremblingfrom head to foot, and called for her breakfast, before bathing anddressing her little son.

  The same pretty maid brought it, and came again, while Cassandra bathedand nursed her baby, to set the room to rights.

  "Shan't I unpack your box for you now, ma'm?" And, without waiting for areply, she took out Cassandra's clothing, pausing now and then toadmire and pet the lovely boy. Her simple friendliness pleasedCassandra, who was minded to ask some of the questions which wereburdening her.

  "When do people make visits here, in the morning or afternoon?"

  "That depends, ma'm."

  "How do you mean? I'm a stranger in England, you know."

  "Yes, ma'm. If they make polite visits, they go about tea time, ma'm.But if it's parish visits, or on business, or on people they know verywell, they may go in the morning, ma'm."

  "And when is tea time here?"

  "Why, ma'm, everybody has their tea in the afternoon along four orthereabouts, and sees their friends."

  "Can I get a carriage here, do you know?"

  "I can get a pony carriage, ma'm. We hires it when we need it, only wemust speak for it early, or it may be taken."

  "Oh! Then will you please speak for it soon? I would like to have it."

  "Yes, ma'm. Will you drive yourself, ma'm, or shall I ask for a boy?"

  "Oh! I don't know. I can drive--but--"

  "They are gentle ponies, ma'm. Any one can drive them."

  "Yes, but I don't know the way."

  "Yes, ma'm. Where would you like to go, ma'm?"

  "To Daneshead Castle."

  The bright-cheeked maid opened her round eyes wider and looked atCassandra with new interest. "But, ma'm,--that is quite far, though theponies are smart, too."

  "How far is it?"

  "It's quite a bit away from here, ma'm; you'd have to start at two orthereabouts. I could take you myself if mother would let me, and tellyou all the interesting places, but"--the girl looked at her shrewdly, aquickly withdrawn glance--"that depends on how well acquainted you arethere, ma'm. Maybe you'd like better to have a man drive, and just letme go along to mind the baby for you."

  "Yes, I would," said Cassandra, gladly.

  "Thank you. I'll run for the ponies now, ma'm."

  Cassandra heard her boots clatter rapidly down the wooden stairs at theback of the house, and presently saw her dashing across the inn yard,bareheaded and with her bare arms rolled in her apron.

  The girl's manner of receiving the statement that she wished to drive tothe castle was not lost on Cassandra's sensitive spirit. She sat amoment, thoughtful and sad, then rose and set herself to preparecarefully for the visit. In the afternoon! Then she might wear the silkgown and lovely hat. Once more she tried to arrange her hair as she sawother young women wear theirs, and again swept its heavy masses backloosely from her brow and coiled it low as her custom was.

  The landlady's daughter chattered happily as they drove. She held thebaby on her knee, and he played with the blue beads she wore about herneck, while Cassandra sat with hands dropped passively in her lap, herbody leaning a little forward, straight and poised as if to move morerapidly along, her red lips parted as if listening and waiting, and hereyes courteously turning toward the places and objects pointed out toher, yet neither seeing nor hearing, except vaguely.

  Presently becoming aware that the chatter was about the family atDaneshead Castle, her interest suddenly awoke. About the old lord--howvast his possessions--how ancient the family--how neglected the castlehad been ever since Lady Thryng's death,--everything allowed to rundown, even though they were so vastly rich--how different everything wasnow the parsimonious old lord was dead and the new lord had come in, andthere were once more ladies in the family--what a time since there hadbeen a Lady Thryng at Daneshead--how much Lady Laura was like her cousinLyon--how reckless she would be if her mother did not hold her with afirm hand--and so the chatter ran on.

  The girl enjoyed the distinction of knowing all about the great familyand enlightening this stranger from America, whose silent attention andoccasional monosyllabic replies were sufficient to inspire her friendlyefforts to entertain. Moreover, her curiosity concerning Cassandra andher errand, where she was evidently neither expected nor known, waspiqued and lively, and she threw out many tentative remarks to probe ifpossible the stranger lady's thoughts.

  "Have you ever seen Lord Thryng--the new lord, I mean, ma'm?"

  "Yes," said Cassandra, simply, a chill striking to her heart to hear himmentioned thus.

  "He's been out here direct
ing the repairs himself, and getting the placeready for his mother and Lady Laura; but I never saw him. They say he'sperfectly stunning. Quite the lord. Is he so very handsome, do youthink?"

  "Yes." Cassandra looked away from the girl's searching eyes.

  "They say he never has married, and that is fortunate too; for he haslived so long in America, and never expecting to come into the title, hemight have married somebody his own set over here never could havereceived, and that would have been bad, wouldn't it?"

  Cassandra turned and looked gravely at the girl. She wished to stop her,but could not think how to do it. She could not bear to hear her husbandtalked over in this way.

  "They are tremendous swells. Lady Thryng looks high for him, and wellshe may, for mother says he's worthy of a princess, he's that rich andhigh bred, too, for all that he was only a doctor over in America.Mother says it's very fortunate he never married some common sort overthere. They say Lady Thryng wants him to marry Lady Geraldine Temple'sdaughter. She is a great beauty, and has a pretty fortune in her ownright, too. They'll be rich enough to entertain the king! And they maydo it, too, some day."

  Cassandra sat still and cold. She could not stop the girl now. "LadyLaura's coming out is to be next week, so his lordship must be homesoon. They say it will be a very grand affair! And I am to see it all,for mother says she will have a maid, and I may go out there to serve,and I shall see all the decorations and the fine dresses. That will befine, won't it, baby?"

  She untied the blue beads and dangled them before the baby's eyes, andhe caught at them and gurgled in baby glee. Cassandra sat silent, rigid,and cold, unheeding the child or the girl, only vaguely hearing thechatter.

  "And that will be grand, won't it, baby? But he is a love, this boy!There is Daneshead Castle now, ma'm. You see it through the trees, butthe grounds are so large we have to drive a good bit before we arethere."

  The driver turned the ponies' heads, and they scampered through a highstone gateway and along a smooth road which wound through a dense wood,with green open spaces interspersed, where deer were browsing. All wasvery beautiful and quiet and sweet, but Cassandra, sitting withwide-open eyes, gravely beautiful, did not see it.

  To the girl everything was delightful. She had not the slightest doubtthat the American lady was very rich. That she travelled so simply andalone was nothing. They all did queer things--the Americans. She wasobtusely unconscious that she had been speaking slightingly of them toone of themselves, and she talked on after the romantic manner of girlsthe world over, giving the gossip of the inn parlors as she listened toit evening after evening, where the affairs of the nobility were freelydiscussed and enlarged and commented upon with eager interest.

  What was spoken in her ladyship's chamber and Lady Laura'sboudoir--their half-formed plans and aspirations--carelessly droppedwords and unfinished sentences--quickly travelled to the housekeeper'sparlor--to the servant's table--to the haunts of grooms and stableboys--to the farmer's daughters--and to the public rooms of theQueensderry Inn.

  Thus it was Cassandra heard tales of the brother and sister and motherof her David, and of him also. How it was said that once he was engagedto a rich tradesman's daughter but had broken it off and gone to Americaagainst the wishes of all his family, and had become a commonpractitioner there to the disgust of all his relatives; and againCassandra felt that she had left a sweet and lovely world behind her tostep into "Vanity Fair."

  She tried to hold fast her faith in goodness and high purpose. She wassure--sure--David had been moved by noble motives; why should she nottrust him now? Did this girl know him better than she--his wife? Yet, inspite of her valiant spirit, two facts fell like leaden weights upon herheart. David had not told his people that he had a wife, and they wouldbe offended that he had "tied himself to a common sort over there." ThisDavid whom she loved was so high above her in the eyes of all hisrelatives and perhaps even in his own. What--ah, what could she do!Might she still hold him in her heart? She could not walk in upon themnow and betray him--never--never.

  Her lips grew pale, and her head swam, but she sat still, leaning alittle forward in the moving phaeton, her hands tightly clasped in herlap and her babe unheeded at her side, until the red returned to herlips and again burned in a clearly defined spot against the pallor ofher cheek. She did not know that a strange, unearthly beauty was hers. Acarriage met them filled with gay people. She did not notice them, butthey gazed at her and turned to look again as they passed.

  "I say, you know!" said one of the men, as they whirled by.

  "There, that was Lady Geraldine Temple in that carriage, and the youngman who stared so hard is her son. They've been paying a visit, or maybethey've brought Lady Clara to stay a bit. They say both families arekeen for the match--and why shouldn't they be? Oh, they'll entertain theking here some day, and then there'll be high times at Daneshead!"

  An automobile flashed by them, and then another. "There must be a partyhere to-day, or likely it's visitors dropping in, now it's gettingtoward tea time. It's all right, ma'm," she added, as Cassandra stirreduneasily. "It must be only visitors, or I would have heard of it.They're keeping open house now, though they don't go anywhere themselvesyet. You see it's a year since the deaths, so they could mourn them allat once, and not spin it along. They had to wait a year before LadyLaura's coming out--rightly. Let the ponies walk now, driver. I begpardon, ma'm." The girl had so taken possession of Cassandra, the baby,and the whole expedition, that she gave the order unthinkingly.

  "Yes, let them walk," said Cassandra, and drew a long breath. She heardgay laughter, and caught sight through the trees of light dresses andwide, plumed hats. Some one sat on the terrace at a table whereon wasshining silver.

  "There, I said so! That's Lady Clara pouring tea. I say, but she's abeauty! Isn't she? No, no. Go to the front, driver. American ladiesdon't call at the side."

  "There's a hautomobile there, ma'm."

  "Then wait a moment. Don't be a stupid."

  Thus, aided by the innkeeper's clever daughter, Cassandra at last madeher entrance properly and was guided to the presence of David's mother,who had not joined her guests, having but just closed an interview withMr. Stretton. As she saw Cassandra standing in the drawing-room waitingher, Lady Thryng came graciously forward. The lovely August weather hadtempted every one out of doors, and the great room was left empty savefor these two, David's mother and his wife.

  The beauty of other-worldliness which had infused Cassandra's wholebeing as she fought her silent battle during the long drive, stillenveloped her. If she could have followed her impulses, she would haveheld out both hands and cried: "Take me and love me. I am David's wife."But she would not--she must not. Her heritage of faith in goodness--bothof God and man--kept her heart open, and gave her power to think and actrightly in this her hour of terrible trial; even as a little child,being behind the veil which separates the soul from God, may, in itsinnocent prattle, utter words of superhuman wisdom.

  "I am sorry if I have interrupted you when you have company," she saidslowly. "I am a stranger--an American."

  "Ah, you Americans are a happy lot and may go where you please. Takethis seat by the window; it is very warm. My son has been in America,but he tells us so little, we are none the wiser for that, about yourpart of the world."

  "I knew him in America. That is why I called."

  "Yes?" The mother bent forward and regarded her curiously, attentively.

  "He lived very near us. He did a great deal of good--among the poor."She put her hand to her slender white throat, then dropped it again inher lap. Then, looking in Lady Thryng's eyes, she said: "I have seenyour picture. I should have known you from that, but you are morebeautiful."

  "Oh! That can hardly be, my dear! It was taken many years ago, youknow."

  "Yes, he said so--his lordship--only there we called him Doctah Thryng."

  A shadow flitted over the mother's face. "He was a practitioner overthere--never in England."

  "That is a pity; it is
such noble work. But perhaps he has other thingsto do here."

  "He has--even more noble work than the practice of medicine."

  "What does he do here?" asked Cassandra, in a low voice.

  "He must take part in the affairs of government. Very ordinary men maystudy and practise medicine, but unless men who are wise, and are noblyborn and bred, make it their business to care for the affairs of theircountry, the nation would soon be wrecked. That is what saves Englandand makes her great."

  "I see." Cassandra sat silent then, and Lady Thryng waited expectantlyfor her errand to be declared, curious about this beautiful youngcreature who had stepped into her home unannounced from out of theunknown, yet graciously kindly and unhurried. "I think I know. With usmen are too careless. They think it isn't necessary, I suppose." Againshe paused with parted lips, as if she would speak on, but could not.

  "With you, men are too busy making money, I am told. It is necessary tohave a leisure class like ours."

  "Oh!" Cassandra caught her breath and smiled. She was thinking of thesilver pot her mother had enjoined her to take with her, and why. "Butwe do think a great deal of family; even the simplest of us care forthat, although we have no leisure class--only the loafers. I'm afraidyou think it very strange I should come to you in this way, butI--thought I would like to see Doctah Thryng again, and when I heard hewas not in England, I thought I would come to you and bring the messagesfrom those who loved him when he was with us. But I mustn't stop now andtake your time. I'll write them instead, only that wouldn't be likeseeing him. He stayed a whole year at our place."

  "And you came from Canada?"

  "Oh, no. A long way from there. My home is in North Carolina."

  "Oh, indeed! How very interesting! That must have been when he was soill." Then, noticing Cassandra's extreme pallor, she begged her mostkindly to come out on the terrace and have tea; but she would not. Shefelt her fortitude giving way, and knew she must hasten. "But you must,you know. The heat and your long ride have made you faint."

  "I--I'm afraid so. It--won't--last."

  "Wait, then. You must take a little wine; you need it." Roused tosympathy, Lady Thryng left her a moment and returned immediately with aglass of wine, which she held to her lips with her own hand. "There, youwill soon be better. Here is a fan. It really is very warm. Indeed, youmust have tea before you go."

  She took her passive hand and led her out on the terrace unresisting,and again Cassandra was minded to throw her arms about the lovelywoman's neck, who was so sweet and kind, and sob on her bosom and tellher all--but David had his own reasons, and she would not.

  "Do you stay long in England?"

  "I am going to-morrow. Oh!" she exclaimed, as they stepped out, and shesaw the number of elaborately dressed guests moving about and gaylychatting and laughing. "I can't go out there. I am a strangah." It was alow melancholy wail as she said it, and long afterward Lady Thryngremembered that moaning cry, "I am a strangah."

  "No, no. You are an American and a very beautiful one. Come, they willbe glad to meet you. Give me your name again."

  "Thank you--but I must--must go back." Suddenly, with a cry, "My baby,he is mine," she swept forward with long, swinging steps toward a groupwho were bending over a rosy-cheeked girl, who was seated on the stepsof the terrace with a child in her arms. She was comforting him andcuddling and petting him, and those around her were exclaiming as younggirls will: "Isn't he a dear!"--"Oh, let me hold him a moment!"--"There,he is going to cry again. No wonder, poor little chap!"--"Oh, look athis curls--so cunning--give him to me."

  Seeing his mother, he put up his arms to her and smiled, while twotears rolled down his round baby cheeks.

  "I found him in the pony carriage with Hetty Giles, and he was cryingso--and such a darling! I just took him away--the love!" cried Laura."Why, we saw you yesterday at the Victoria. I could not pass him by, youremember?"

  The baby, one beaming smile, nestled his face bashfully in his mother'sneck and patted her cheek, glancing sidewise at his admirers throughbrimming tears, while Cassandra, her eyes large and pathetic, turned nowon Laura, now on her mother, stood silent, quivering like one of her ownmountain creatures brought to bay. But she was strengthened as she felther baby again in her arms, and as she stood thus looking about her,every one became silent, and she was constrained to speak. She did notknow that something in her manner and appearance had commandedsilence--something tragic--despairing. It was but for an instant, thenshe turned to Lady Laura.

  _Cassandra stood silent, quivering like one of her ownmountain creatures brought to bay. Page 286._]

  "Thank you for comforting him. I ought not to have left him. I nevah didbefore, with strangahs." She tried to bid Lady Thryng good-by, but Lauraagain besought her to stop and have tea.

  "Please do. I fairly adore Americans. I want to talk to you; I mean, tohear you talk."

  Cassandra had mastered herself at last, and replied quietly: "I don'tguess I can stay, thank you. You have been so kind." Then she said toLady Thryng, "Good-by," and moved away. Laura walked by her side to thecarriage.

  "I hope you'll come again sometime, and let me know you."

  "You are right kind to say that. I shall nevah forget." Then, leaningdown from the carriage seat, and looking steadily in Laura's warm, darkeyes, she added: "No, I shall nevah forget. May I kiss you?"

  "You sweet thing!" said the girl, impulsively, and, reaching up, theykissed. Cassandra said in her heart, "For David," and was driven away.

  Laura found her mother standing where they had left her. She had beendeeply stirred by the sight of Cassandra with the child in her arms. Notthat beautiful mothers and lovely children were rare in England; butthat, except for the children of the poor, no little one like this hadbeen in her own home or so near her in all the years of her widowhood.It was the sight of that strong mother love, overpowering and sweepingall before it, recognizing no lesser call--the secret and holy powerthat lies in the Christ-mother, for all periods and all peoples--sheherself had felt it--and the cry that had burst from Cassandra's lips,"My baby--he is mine." Tears stood in Lady Thryng's eyes, and yet it wassuch a simple little thing. Mothers and babies? Why, they wereeverywhere.

  "She moved like a tragic queen," said Lady Clara. "What was the matter?"

  "Nothing, only her baby had been crying; but wasn't he a love?" saidLady Laura.

  "I say! He was a perfect dear!" said one and another.

  "I don't care much for babies," said Lady Clara. "They ought to betrained to stay with their nurses and not cry after their mammas likethat. Fancy having to take such a child around with one everywhere, evenin making a formal call, you know! Isn't it absurd? American women spoiltheir children dreadfully, I have heard."