RECONSTRUCTION
"I have to ride into Annapolis, this morning, Aunt Katherine. Would you
like to drive in?" asked Peggy, when the unpleasant breakfast was ended.
"I should be delighted to, dear," answered Mrs. Stewart sweetly,
striving to recover lost ground, for she felt that a good bit had been
lost. "At what time do you start?"
"Immediately. I will order the surrey."
She left the room, her aunt's eyes following her with a half-mystified,
half-baffled expression: Was the girl deeper than she had given her
credit for being? Had she miscalculated the depth of the pool after all?
All through the breakfast hour Peggy had been a sweet and gracious young
hostess, anticipating every want, looking to every detail of the
service, ordering with a degree of self-possession which secretly
astonished Mrs. Stewart, who felt that it would have been difficult for
her, even with her advantage of years, to have equaled the girl's
unassuming self-assurance and dignity, or have rivaled her perfect
ability to sit at the head of her father's table. A moment later Mrs.
Stewart went to her room to dress for the drive into town, her breakfast
toilet having been a most elaborate silk negligee. Twenty minutes later
the surrey stood at the door, but, contrary to Mrs. Stewart's
expectations, her niece was not in it: she was mounted upon her
beautiful black horse Shashai, at whose feet Tzaritza lay, her nose
between her paws, but her ears a-quiver for the very first note of the
low whistle which meant, "full speed ahead." On either side of Shashai,
a superb bodyguard, stood Silver Star, Polly Howland's saddle horse,
though he was still quartered at Severndale, and Roy, the colt that
Peggy had raised from tiny babyhood, and which had followed her as he
would have followed his dam, ever since the accident that had made him
an orphan.
Perhaps the reader of "Peggy Stewart" will recall Mrs. Stewart's horror
upon being met at the railway station by "the wild West show," as she
stigmatized her niece's riding and her horses, for rarely did Peggy
Stewart ride unless accompanied by her two beautiful horses and the
wolfhound, and her riding was a source of marvel to more than one, her
instructor having been Shelby, the veteran horse-trainer, who had been
employed at Severndale ever since Peggy could remember, and whose early
days had been spent upon a ranch in the far West where a man had to ride
anything which possessed locomotive powers. At the present moment a more
appreciative observer would have thrilled at the sight, for rarely is it
given to mortal eyes to look upon a prettier picture than Peggy Stewart
and her escort presented at that moment.
Given as a background a beautiful, carefully preserved estate, which for
generations has been the pride of its owners, a superb old mansion of
the most perfect colonial type, a sunny September morning, and as the
figures upon that background a charming young girl in a white linen
riding-skirt, her rich coloring at its best, her eyes shining, her seat
in her saddle so perfect that she seemed a part of her mount, and you
have something to look upon. To this add three thoroughbred horses and a
snowy dog, an old colored servitor, for Jerome had come out with a
message from Harrison, and it is a picture to be appreciated. Had the
tall woman standing upon the broad piazza been able to do so, many
things which happened later might never have happened at all.
Mrs. Stewart was elaborately gowned in a costume better suited for a
drive in Newport than Annapolis, especially Annapolis in September. It
was a striking creation of pale blue linen and Irish point lace, with a
large lace hat, heavy with nodding plumes and a voluminous white lace
veil floating out about it. She was a handsome woman in a certain
conspicuous way, and certainly knew how to purchase her apparel, though,
not above criticism in her selection of the toilet for the occasion, as
the present instance evinced. She now walked to the piazza steps, and
had anyone possessing a sense of humor been a witness of it, the
transformation which passed over the lady's face en transit would have
well nigh convulsed him, for the smile which had illumined her
countenance at the door had gradually faded as she advanced until, when
the steps were reached, it had been transformed into a most disapproving
frown.
To Peggy the reason was a mystery, for she had not overheard her aunt's
comments upon the occasion of the drive from the railway station three
days before. Of course Jess had, and they had been freely circulated and
keenly resented in the servants' quarters, but no whisper of them had
been carried to the young mistress. Nevertheless, Peggy was beginning to
discover that a good many of her actions, and also the order of things
at Severndale, had brought a cloud to her Aunt's brow, and a little
sigh escaped her lips as she wondered what the latest development would
prove. It seemed so easy for things to go amiss nowadays, when
heretofore nearly everything had seemed, as a matter of course, to go
right. Then the self-elected dictator spoke:
"Peggy, dear, are you not to drive with me?"
"Thank you, Aunt Katherine, but I always ride, and I have several
errands to do which I can better attend to if I am mounted."
"Well, it can hardly be necessary for you to have _three_ saddle horses
at once. It seems to me unnecessarily conspicuous, and in very bad taste
for a young girl to go tearing about the country, and especially into
Annapolis--the capital City of the State--in the guise of a traveling
circus."
A slight smile curved Peggy's lips as she answered:
"Annapolis is _not_ New York, Aunt Katherine. What might be out of place
in such a city would be regarded as a matter of course in a little town
where everybody knows everybody else, and they all know me, and the
Severndale horses. Nobody ever gives us a thought. Why should they? I'm
nothing but a girl riding into town on an errand."
"You are extremely modest, I must say. Is it quite native or well--we'll
dismiss the question, but I must ask you to do me the favor of leaving
your bodyguard behind today; it may not seem conspicuous for you to play
in a Wild West Show, but I must decline to be an actor. You are growing
too old for such mad pranks, and are far too handsome a girl to invite
observation."
Peggy turned crimson.
"Why, Aunt Katherine, I never regarded it as a prank in the least. I
have ridden this way all my life and no one has ever commented upon it.
Daddy Neil knows of it--he has ridden with me hundreds of times
himself--and never said one word against it. And you surely do not think
I do it to invite observation? Why, there isn't anything to _observe_. I
am certainly no better looking than hundreds of other girls; at least,
you are the only one who has ever commented upon my personal appearance.
But I beg your pardon; you are my guest. I am sorry. Bud, please call
Shelby to take Star and Roy back; I don't dare trust them to you."
The little negro boy who had brought Shashai to the doorstep, and who
had been staring popeyed during the conversation, dashed away toward the
paddock, to rush upon Shelby with a wild tale of "dat lady f'om de norf
was a-sassin' Missie Peggy jist scan'lous and orderin' Shelby fer to
come quick ter holp her."
"What you a-talking about, you little fool nigger?" demanded Shelby.
Then gathering that something was amiss with the little mistress whom
all upon the estate adored, he hastened to the house, his face somewhat
troubled, for hints of the doings up there had penetrated even to his
quarters.
"Shelby, please take Star and Roy back to the paddock and be sure to
fasten them in."
"Ain't they a-goin' with you, Miss Peggy?"
"Not this morning, Shelby."
The man looked from the girl to the lady now settling herself in the
carriage. Toinette still stood upon the piazza waiting to be lifted up
to her mistress, too fat and too foolish to even go down the steps
alone. As Shelby stepped toward the horses Mrs. Stewart waved her hand
toward the dog and said to him:
"Lift Toinette into the surrey."
Shelby paid no more attention to her than he paid to the quarreling jays
in the holly trees, and the order was sharply repeated.
"Oh, are you a-speakin' to me, ma'am?" he then said.
"Certainly. I wish my dog handed to me."
Shelby looked at the pampered poodle and then at its mistress. Then with
a guileless smile remarked:
"Now you don't sesso? Well, when I git back to the paddock with these
here horses what can't go 'long with Miss Peggy, I'll send a little
nigger boy up here for ter boost your dog up to you, but _I_ tend
_horses_ on this here place."
The man's dark skin grew several shades darker owing to the blood which
flooded his cheeks, and his eyes narrowed as he looked for one second
straight into Mrs. Stewart's. What possessed the woman to antagonize
everyone with whom she came in touch? Shelby had never laid eyes upon
her until that moment, but that moment had confirmed his dislike
conceived from the reports which had come to him. He now went up to the
horses. Knowing that neither of them had halters on, he had brought two
with him and now slipped them over his charges' heads, saying as he did
so:
"You've got to come 'long back with me and keep company manners, do you
know that, you disrepu'ble gad-abouts? You ain't never had no proper
eddicatin' an' now it's a-goin' to begin for fa'r. You-all are goin' ter
be larnt citified manners hot off the bat. So come 'long back to the
paddock an' git your fust lesson."
The horses toyed and played with him like a couple of children, but went
pacing away beside him, now and again pulling at his sleeve, poking at
him with their soft muzzles or mumbling at his cheeks with their velvety
lips, a pair of petted, peerless creatures and as beautiful as any God
had ever created. Now and again they stopped short to neigh a peremptory
call, as though asking the reason of this surprising conduct.
"Are you ready, Aunt Katherine?" asked Peggy.
"As soon as Jerome takes your hound in charge. I don't care to have
Toinette driven frantic with fear by the sight of her. She will grow so
excited that I shall be unable to hold her."
Now the past two hours had held a good many annoyances for Peggy Stewart
to whom annoyances had been almost unknown. Perhaps they constitute the
discipline of life, but thus far Peggy Stewart had apparently gotten on
pretty well without any radical chastening processes. Her life had been
simply, but well, ordered, and her naturally sunny soul had grown sweet
and wholesome in her little world. If correction had been necessary
Mammy's loving old heart had known how to order it during Peggy's
babyhood; Harrison had carefully watched her childhood, and her young
girlhood had been most beautifully developed by her guardian, good Dr.
Llewellyn, who loved her as a grand-daughter. Then had come Mrs. Harold,
who had done so much for the young girl. Why could it not have gone on?
Perhaps the ordering of Peggy's life had been too smooth to develop the
best in her character, so Kismet, or whatever it is which shapes the odd
happenings of our lives, had stepped in to lay a hurdle or two to test
her ability to meet obstacles. Since seven-thirty that morning she had
met little else in one form or another, and had taken them rather
gracefully, all things considered. Her breakfast had been delayed an
hour; the breakfast itself had been far from the pleasant meal it
usually proved; she had been needlessly criticised for her habit of
riding with her beloved horses; and now poor Tzaritza, after being
banished the house, was to be debarred from following her young
mistress; something unheard of, since the hound had acted as Peggy's
protectress ever since she could follow her. The blood flooded into the
girl's face, as turning to her Aunt she said very quietly, but with a
dignity which Mrs. Stewart dared not encroach upon:
"I am very sorry to seem in any way discourteous or disobliging, Aunt
Katherine, but Daddy Neil and Compadre, have always wished Tzaritza to
accompany me when I ride. I have never felt any fear but they feel
differently, as there are, of course, some undesirable characters
between Severndale and Annapolis, and they consider Tzaritza a great
protection against any possible annoyance. We will ride on ahead, since
it is likely to annoy you, but I must go into Annapolis this morning.
Another time I shall drive with you, but I can't ask you to drive where
I must ride today. When you see some of the Annapolitan streets you will
understand why. They have not been re paved since the first pavements
were laid generations ago, and you would be most uncomfortable. Be
careful where you drive, Jess. I will meet you at the Bank."
There was a graceful bow to Mrs. Stewart, a slight pressure of the knee
against Shashai, a low whistle to Tzaritza and she had whirled and was
away like the wind.
Madam Stewart drew a quick breath and compressed her thin lips until
they formed barely a line, and during that drive into Annapolis did some
rapid thinking. Evidently she had made another mistake.
As Peggy rode along the highway which led to Annapolis, the usual merry,
lilting songs, to which Shashai's hoofbeats kept time, were silenced,
and the girl rode in deep thought. Shashai tossed his head impatiently
as though trying to attract her attention, and now and again Tzaritza
bounded up to her with a deep, questioning bark. Peggy smiled a little
abstractedly and said:
"Your Missie is doing some hard thinking, my beauties and doesn't feel
songful this morning." Then after a moment she resumed:
"O Shashai, what _is_ the matter with everything? Am _I_ all wrong, or
is Aunt Katherine different from everybody else? I have never met anyone
just like her before, and I feel just exactly as though someone had
drawn a file across my teeth, and I dare say that's all wrong too. If
the Little Mother and Polly were only here they'd know how to make me
see things differently, but I seem to get in wrong at every turn. Aunt
Katherine has been here only two days, but what days they have been! And
ten times more to follow before the month ends!"
Shashai had gradually slowed down until he was walking with his own
inimitably dainty step, his hoofs falling upon the leaf-strewn road with
the lightness of a deer's. Presently they came to a pretty wood-road
leading almost at angles to the highway, but Peggy was again too
occupied to notice that Tzaritza had turned into it and that Shashai, as
a matter of course, had followed her. Annapolis could be reached by this
less frequented way but it made a wide detour, leading past Nelly
Bolivar's home. As they struck the refreshing coolness of the byway
Shashai broke into what Peggy called his "rocking-chair gait," though
she was so much a part of him that she was hardly aware of the more
rapid motion. Her first clear intimation that her route had changed
occurred when a cheerful voice called out:
"And she wandered away and away into the land o' dreams, my princess."
Peggy raised her head quickly and the old light flashed back into her
eyes, the old smile curved her lips as she cried:
"Why, Nelly Bolivar! How under the sun came I here?"
"In the usual way, I reckon, Miss Peggy. I don't often see you come in
any other. But this time you sure enough look as though you had been
dreaming," laughed Nelly, coming close to Shashai, who instantly
remembered his manners and neighed his greeting, while Tzaritza thrust
her head into the girl's arms with the gentlest insinuation. Nelly held
the big head close, rested her face against it a second, then took
Shashai's soft muzzle in both hands and planted a kiss just where it was
most velvety, saying softly:
"I can't imagine you three separated. The picture would not be complete.
But what is wrong, Miss Peggy? You look so sober you make me feel
queer," for the smile had gone from the girl's face and Nelly was quick
to feel the seriousness of her expression.
"Perhaps I'm cross and cranky, Nelly. At any rate I've no business to be
here this minute. I started for Annapolis, but my wits got
wool-gathering, I reckon, and I let Shashai turn in here without
noticing where he was going. Aunt Katherine will reach Annapolis before
I do and--then--" and Peggy stopped and wagged her head as though
pursuit of the subject would better be dropped. Nelly's face clouded. It
had not required the two days of Mrs. Stewart's visit to circulate a
good many reports concerning her. Indeed both Jerome and old Mammy had
described her at length, and the description had lost nothing upon their
African tongues, nor had the experiences of the three months spent up
north: Madam Stewart had figured rather conspicuously in their pictures
of the "doin's up yander." Had she suspected how accurately the old
colored people had gauged her, or how great an influence their gauging
was likely to have upon the plans she had so carefully laid, she might
have been a little more circumspect in her conduct toward them. But to
her they were "just black servants" and she was entirely incapable of
weighing their influence in the domestic economy, or of understanding
their shrewd judgment as to the best interests of the young girl whom
each, in common with all the other old servants upon the estate, loved
with a devotion absolutely incomprehensible to most northern-born
people. And another potent fact, entirely absent from the
characteristics of the northern negro, is the fact that the southern
negro servants' "kinnery" instantly adopts and maintains the viewpoint
of those "nearest the throne." It is a survival of the old feudal
system, unknown in the cosmopolitan North, but which even in this day,
so remote from the days of slavery, makes itself very distinctly felt in
many parts of the South.
And many of the servants upon the Severndale estate had been there for
three generations. Hence Peggy was their "chile," and her joys or
sorrows, happiness or unhappiness, were theirs, and all their kin's, to
be talked over, remedied if possible, but shared if not, or made a part
of their own delight in living, as the case might demand. And the
ramifications of their kinship were amazing. No wonder the report that
"an aunt-in-law ob de yo'ng mistress yonder at Severndale, had done come
down an' ondertuck fer ter run de hull shebang _an'_ Miss Peggy inter de
bargain, what is never been run by nobody," had circulated throughout
the whole community, and met with a resolute, though carefully concealed
opposition--subtle, intangible, but sure to prove overwhelming in the
end--the undertow, so hidden but so irresistible. All this had stolen
from one pair of lips to another and, of course, been related with
indignant emphasis to Jim Bolivar, Nelly's father, one of the tenants of
Severndale's large estate. And he, in turn, had discussed it with Nelly,
who worshipped the very ground Peggy chose to stand upon, for to Peggy
Stewart Nelly owed restored health, her home rescued when ruin seemed
about to claim everything her father owned, and all the happiness which
had come into her lonely life.
No wonder she now looked up to the deep brown eyes with her own blue
ones troubled and distressed.