Barbara Ladd Part 10

Barbara sighed happily. "Isn't it lovely we have found each other at last, Aunt Hitty? I don't think it will be so hard now for me to be good!"

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 five feet from the ground, forming a most luxurious crotch in which to sit and read. Smaller apple-trees, interspersed with tangled shrubbery and some trellised vines, almost surrounded it, so that on three sides it afforded perfect seclusion. Sweet airs breathed through it, from the neighbouring thyme and mint beds; and sunshine sifted down through its leaves in an intricate and exquisite pattern; and a pair of catbirds, nesting in the shrubs close by, made it their haunt without regard to Barbara's presence. As she looked at this dear nook, with all its memories of intimate hours and dreams, Barbara thought to herself how glad she was that she had not succeeded in running away from Second Westings. She clambered cleverly into the tree, settled herself with a long breath of satisfaction, swung her little scarlet-shod feet idly too and fro, and made a long, absorbing survey of her green realm.

Then, locking her ankles lithely as only a slim girl can, she opened her book, and was soon engrossed in the fortunes of Lovelace and Clarissa.

About the time that Barbara was settling herself in the apple-tree, Robert Gault was triumphantly pushing Barbara's canoe to land through the gold-green sedges on the Second Westings sh.o.r.e of the little lake.

With pole and paddle he had made the ascent of the stream from Gault House, having been seized that morning with a violent conviction that it was his duty to return the canoe without delay. He had poled through the rapids, and paddled eagerly through the silent solemnities of the woods, too intent upon his purpose to be alive to their mystic influences. The furtive eyes that watched him from pine-tree boll and ironwood bush, from skyey branch or moss-veiled root, touched not his consciousness. To his self-centred mood the peopled stillness was empty as a desert. His eyes, at other times alert and not uninitiated, were turned inward upon his own dreams. He emerged from the great shadows, paddled through the meadowy windings with their iris-beds and lilies, and pa.s.sed at length old Debby's clamorous dooryard, giving hardly a glance to the green slope with its ducks and fowls, the little red-doored cabin against its trees, or old Debby herself, with the c.o.c.k-eared yellow pup beside her, sitting on the stoop. He was in a hurry, and had caught glimpses of the open waters of the lake beyond; and he knew from Barbara's description that Mistress Mehitable's landing-place was straight across the lake.

But old Debby, sitting knitting in the sun with the c.o.c.k-eared yellow pup beside her, saw him, and chuckled at his haste. She had been over to Second Westings the day before, and had got the whole story from Doctor Jim. She had made up her mind to keep well out of the way, till Barbara's indignation should have time to cool; but she was mightily interested in the youth who had been so readily persuaded to the backing of Barbara's mad venture. A moment later she made up her mind that she must have a good look at him, a word with him if possible.

She got up and hobbled actively down to the sh.o.r.e; but Robert's haste had carried him already beyond earshot.

Following the path up from the lake-sh.o.r.e, Robert crossed the cow-pasture and climbed the bars back of the barn. Here he was met and challenged by Keep, the mastiff, who, with the discernment of a well-bred dog, appreciated Robert's good clothes, nosed his hand cordially, and let him pa.s.s without protest. Keep knew a gentleman at a glance, and was convinced that good manners meant good morals. He had no fear of Robert setting fire to the barn.

Seeking a way to the front of the house, Robert pa.s.sed through the wicket leading into the back garden. Suddenly, between the tall clumps of hollyhocks, he stopped short, and his heart gave a queer little sliding leap. His breath came quick and light, in a way that greatly perplexed him. What he saw to so disturb him was a pair of little scarlet shoes, two small ankles, and a few inches of slim, shapely silk stockings, lithely intertwined, and vividly in evidence beneath a screen of apple-leaves.

Robert did not need any one to tell him that the rest of the bewildering picture, hidden behind the screen of apple-leaves, was the small, inspiring lady, Mistress Barbara Ladd. He hesitated, and was almost on the point of slipping away,--he knew not why, for the life of him. Then, recovering a part of his composure, he stepped forward in trepidation, hat in hand, forgot the graceful speeches on which he was wont to pride himself, and stammered--"Mistress Barbara!--I beg your pardon!"

The slim ankles unlocked, "Clarissa" fell upon the gra.s.s, and lightly as a bird Barbara sprang down from her perch, unconscious, unembarra.s.sed, gracious in her greetings. She smiled him radiant welcome, frankly pleased, and held out her hand to be kissed.

"Why, how did you come?" she cried, gaily, "stealing in this way through the back premises?"

"By water, dear lady," he answered, still stammering. "I brought back the 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'd been 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 lips and scarlet shoes. And he was further shaken from his customary poise by his perception of Barbara's change in the arrangement of her hair, and by what seemed a sudden increase in her stature through the lengthening of her frocks. Otherwise he would not have been so stupid as to imagine that the prompt.i.tude of his coming called for any apology in Barbara's eyes, whatever might be the opinion of Doctor John, or Doctor Jim, or Mistress Mehitable Ladd!

"I thought I ought to come at once, you know," he explained, "to bring back 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 a little cooler. "That was very thoughtful of you. I couldn't sleep for thinking of the canoe!"

Robert looked at her doubtfully, wondering if that were sarcasm in her voice.

"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 to bring it back!" said Barbara.

"But I wanted to bring it back now,--I thought it was such a good excuse for coming at once, though I knew I _ought_ to have waited for the invitation, of course," persisted Robert, vaguely worried.

"Oh!" exclaimed Barbara, again, allowing herself to be mollified in part, but still feeling a shade of disappointment. She was too inexperienced to appreciate the tribute of Robert's confusion and unexpected awkwardness. She liked him so much better in his grand, elaborate, self-possessed manner, paying stately compliments, making her feel important and grown-up by formal homage. However, he certainly was very nice, and he certainly looked very distinguished; and she realised that, for all his apparent solicitude about returning the canoe, the canoe was not his reason for coming so soon. She would forgive him,--but she would punish him! In fact, she was making progress in the arts of the imperishable feminine.

"Well, we shall _all_ be glad to see you, Robert," she said. "And now you must go straight to Doctor Jim, who did invite you, as you seem to have forgotten! You go through that white gate, over there, and turn to the left, and then the first turn to the right puts you right on the main street. You're almost at Doctor Jim's then,--any one will point it out to you."

"But,--I didn't come to see Doctor Jim," protested Robert, much taken aback. "I came to bring back the canoe, you know!"

"Of course, I understand!" said Barbara, sweetly. "Tell Doctor Jim and Doctor John that I want them to bring you back here presently, in an hour 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 here at all?" pleaded Robert.

Ordinarily, this was just what would have seemed reasonable and delightful to Barbara. But just now it pleased her to discipline the boy.

"Decidedly _not_, Robert!" said she. "You know how careful you are about etiquette,--so troubled over the idea of coming here at all on the mere invitation of mere me! You shall not talk to me any more till you have been properly presented to Aunt Hitty! Besides, I am just at a _most_ interesting place in this lovely book,"--and she s.n.a.t.c.hed 'Clarissa' up from the gra.s.s, where it had lain forgotten since Robert's appearance,--"and I can't really take my mind off it till I find out what is going to happen. I will see you in the house, with Aunt Hitty, in--let me see--about an hour and a half! Now go right away!"

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 she waited for Robert to depart ere she climbed back to her nook, "Aunt Hitty is just perfect. She will be very nice to you, and will quite approve of you, I know. Since everything has turned out for the best, she has already forgiven you for leading her young niece into mischief the way you did!"

Robert stared at her in speechless amazement. But Barbara would not let him ask any more questions. With a mocking little grimace at his confusion, she pointed to the white gate.

"Go away immediately!" she commanded. "And be sure you come back in an hour and a half!"

Robert turned and strode off with an aggrieved air, between the hollyhock rows. When he was half way to the gate, Barbara, who had stood looking after him with a smile on her lips, called imperiously:

"Robert!"

He turned quickly, and s.n.a.t.c.hed 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 one knee, and held out his two hands firmly locked, to form a sort of stirrup. Setting one light foot into this support, Barbara sprang up and in a flash was perched gracefully in her niche. It was done with such swiftness that Robert had hardly time to realise her foot had touched him. She laughed down upon him with gay commendation.

"That was very handsomely done, indeed, Robert!" she declared. "Now hurry right away to Doctor Jim, or you'll never manage to get back in one hour and a half!" And she buried her eyes in the first page at which "Clarissa" chanced to open.

Robert hesitated, opened his lips as if to speak, and went without a word. Barbara, watching him from the corner of her eye, was puzzled at the look upon his face, but felt satisfied that it was not displeasure.

About half-way up the walk toward the gate, when he believed himself un.o.bserved, Robert gazed curiously at the palms wherein the little foot had 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 his lips. This action astonished Barbara, but greatly interested her, and gave her, at the same time, an inexplicable thrill. Her heart understood it, indeed, while it remained an enigma to her brain. And purposeless, profitless, absurd though it seemed to her, that Robert should kiss his own hand, she decided nevertheless that in some way the action had expressed a more fervent homage to her than when the hand that he kissed was hers. She forgot to go on reading the excellent Mr.

Richardson's romance.

CHAPTER XV.

Mistress Mehitable liked Robert, whose bearing and breeding were in all ways much to her taste. She had seen him when a babe in arms, just before his father and mother had taken him away from Gault House to New York. So gracious was she, that Robert was filled with wonder as he thought of the piteous story which Barbara had told him in the canoe.

But this wonder was as nothing, compared to the amazement with which he viewed the warm affection between Barbara and her aunt. What could it all mean? It was plain that they two understood each other, trusted each other, admired each other, loved each other. He had an uneasy feeling that Barbara had made a fool of him. Then, as his dignity was beginning to feel ruffled, and his grave young face to darken, he would remember other details of that eventful afternoon which forbade him to question the girl's sincerity. At this the cloud would lift. There was a mystery behind it all, of course, which he would doubtless, in his determined fashion, succeed in penetrating. Meanwhile, every one seemed extremely happy,--Barbara gaily, whimsically gracious, Mistress Mehitable composedly glad, Doctor Jim as boisterous in his joy as good manners would permit, Doctor John quizzically approving, and filled with mellow mirth. Robert was made to feel himself an honoured guest, for his own sake as well as for the sake of his parents; and in this cordial atmosphere he soon justified all good opinions. Barbara was intensely gratified with him. She audaciously claimed credit for having discovered him, and rescued him from the barbaric wilderness that lay beyond Second Westings. She began to plan expeditions and amus.e.m.e.nts to make his visit memorable; and when he announced his intention of returning to Gault House on the morrow, there was a unanimous protest. Mistress Mehitable said it was not to be heard of, for one moment. Doctor Jim growled that his hospitality was not to be flouted in any such fashion. Doctor John levelled bushy eyebrows at him, and suggested that no true Gault would run away in the hour of triumph.

"You will do nothing of the kind, Robert," decreed Barbara, with finality. "We want you here. I wonder you are not ashamed, after all the trouble you made for us so lately, when you were old enough and big enough to know better!"