TO THALIA
These lines to her my passion tell,
Describe the empire of her spell;
A love which naught will e'er dispel,
That flames for sweetest Thalia.
The sun that brights the fairest morn,
The stars that gleam in Capricorn,
Do not so much the skies adorn
As does my lovely Thalia.
The tints with which the rose enchants,
The fragrance which the violet grants;
Each doth suggest, but ne'er supplants,
The charms of dainty Thalia.
To gaze on her is sweet delight:
'T is heaven whene'er she 's in my sight,
But when she's gone, 't is endless night--
All 's dark without my Thalia.
I vow to her, by God above,
By hope of life, by depth of love,
That from her side I ne'er will rove,
So much love I my Thalia.
"How monstrous pretty!" cried Tabitha. "I'm sure he
meant it rightly."
"I thought 't was a beautiful valentine," sighed Janice,--
"and 't was the first I ever had--but dadda says she was an
ill-shaped mare--and mommy says 't was something with a
tail--and 't is almost as bad to have her a wicked woman--
so I'm feared he meant it in joke--or worse--"
"I don't believe it," comforted Tibbie. "He may have
made a mistake in the name, but I'm sure he meant it; that
he--well--thee knows. And if thee copies it fair, and puts
in 'Delia,' or 'Celia,' 't will do to show to the girls. I wish
some one would send me such a valentine."
Made cheerful by her friend's point of view, Janice went
on with more spirit,--
"Nor is that the end." She took from her trunk a handkerchief
and unwrapping it, produced the unset miniature.
"He let me keep it," she said.
"How mighty wonderful!" again exclaimed Tibbie, growing
big-eyed. "Who--"
"Furthermore, and in continuation, as Mr. McClave always
says after his ninthly," airily interrupted Janice, drawing from
her bosom the portrait of herself. "Who 's that, Tibbie
Drinker?"
"Janice!" cried the person so challenged. "How lovely!
Who--Did Mr. Peale come to Greenwood?"
"Not he. Who, think you, did it?"
"I vow if I can guess."
"Charles!
"No!" gasped Tibbie, properly electrified. "Thee is
cozening me."
"Not for a moment," cried Janice, delightedly.
"Tell me everything about all" was Tabitha's rapturous
demand.
It took Janice many minutes, and Tibbie was called upon
to use many exclamation and question marks, ere the tale of
all these surprises was completed. Long before it had come
to a finish, the two girls were snuggled together in bed, half
in real love, as well as for the mutual animal heat, and half
that they might whisper the lower. The facts, after many
interruptions and digressions, having been narrated, Janice
asked,--
"Whom, think you, Charles loves, Tibbie?"
"'T is very strange! From his valentine and miniature I
should think 't was thee. But from what he told thee--"
"'T is exactly that which puzzles me."
"Oh, Janice! He--Perhaps thee was right. He may
be a villain who is trying to beguile thee."
"For what could--Then why should he tell me about
her?"
"That--well--'t is beyond me."
"If't had not been for coming away, I--that is--" The
girl hesitated and then said, "Tibbie?"
"What?"
"Dost think--I mean--" The girl drew her bedfellow
closer, and in an almost inaudible voice asked, "Would it
be right, think you--when I go back, you know--to--to
encourage him--that is, to give him a chance to tell me--so
as to find out?"
The referee of this important question was silent for long
enough to give a quality of consideration to her opinion, and
then decided, "I think thee shouldst. 'T is a question that
thou hast a right to know about." Having given the ruling,
this most upright judge changed her manner from one conveying
thought to one suggesting eagerness, and asked, "Oh,
Janice, if he does--if thee finds out anything, wilt thee tell
it me?"
"Ought I?" asked Janice, divided between the pleasure of
monopolising a secret and the enjoyment of sharing it.
"Surely thee ought," cried Tabitha. "After telling me so
much, thou shouldst--for Charles' sake. Otherwise I might
misjudge him."
"Then I'll tell you everything," cried Janice, clearly happy
in the decision.
"And if he does love you, Jan?" suggestively remarked
Tibbie.
"'T will be vastly exciting," said Janice. "You know,
Tibbie, it frightens me a little, for he's just the kind of man to
do something desperate."
"And--and you would n't--"
"Tibbie Drinker! A redemptioner!"
"But Janice, he must have been a gentle--"
"What he was, little matters," interrupted the girl. "He's
a bond-servant now, and even if he were n't, he'd have a
bristly beard--Ugh!"
"Poor fellow," sighed Tabitha. "'T is not his fault!"
"Nor is 't mine," retorted Janice.
A pause of some moments followed and then Janice asked:
"Dost think I am promised to Mr. Evatt, Tibbie?"--for
let it be confessed that every incident of what she had pledged
herself not to tell had been poured out to her confidant.
"I think so," whispered the girl, "and he being used to
court ways would surely know."
"He 's--well, he's a fine figure of a man," owned Janice.
"And tho' I ne'er intended it, I'd rather 't would be he than
Philemon Hennion or the parson."
"What if thy father and mother should not consent?" said
Tabitha.
"'T would be lovely!" cried Janice, ecstatically. "Just
like a romance, you know. And being court-bred, he'd know
how to--well--how to give it eclat. Oh, Tibbie, think of
making a runaway match and of going to court!"
Much as Tabitha loved her friend, the little green-eyed
monster gained possession of her momentarily. "He may
be deceiving thee," she suggested. "Perhaps he never was
there."
"Nay. He knows all the titled people. He was at one
of Lady Grafton's routs, Tibbie, and was spoke to by the
Duke of Cumberland!"
For a man falsely to assert acquaintance with a royal duke
seemed so impossible to the girl that this was accepted as
indisputable proof; driven from her first position, Tibbie remarked,
"Perhaps he won't return. Many 's the maid been
cozened and deserted by the men."
For a moment, either because this idea did not please
Janice or because she needed time to digest it, there was
silence.
"Oh, Janice," sighed Tibbie, presently, "'t is almost past
belief that thee has had so much happen to thee."
But a few weeks before the girl thought the chief part of
her experiences the most cruel luck that had ever befallen
maiden. Yet so quickly does youth put trouble in the past,
and so respondent is it to the romantic view of things, that
she now promptly answered,--
"Is 't not, Tibbie! Am I not a lucky girl? If I only
was certain about Thalia, I should be so happy."
XV
QUESTIONS OF DELICACY
Of the time Janice spent at Trenton little need be
said. Compared with Greenwood, the town was
truly almost riotous. Neither Presbyterian nor
Quaker approved of dancing, and so the regular
weekly assemblies were forbidden fruit to the girls, and Janice
and Tibbie were too well born to be indelicately of the throng
who skated long hours on Assanpink Creek, or to take part in
the frequent coasting-parties. But of other amusements they
had, in the expression of the day, "a great plenty." Four
teas,--but without that particular beverage,--two quilting-bees,
one candy-pulling and one corn-popping, three evenings
at singing-school, and a syllabub party supplied such ample
social dissipation to Janice that life seemed for the time fairly
to whirl.
Not the least of the excitement, it must be confessed, was
the conquest by Janice of a young Quaker cousin of Tabitha's
named Penrhyn Morris. Two other of the Trenton lads, too,
began to behave in a manner so suspicious to the girls as to
call for much discussion. Tibbie as well had several swains,
who furnished still further subjects of conversation after sleeping
hours had come. Several times sharp reproofs were
shouted through the partition from Miss Drinker's room, but
the whispering only sank in tone and not in volume.
One incident not to be omitted was the appearance of
Philemon, nominally on business, in Trenton; but he called
upon the Drinkers, and remained to dinner when asked. He
stayed on and on after that meal, wearying the two girls beyond
measure by the necessity of maintaining a conversation,
until, just as the desperation point was reached, Tibbie introduced
a topic which had an element of promise in it.
"Hast thou seen Charles Fownes of late?" she asked of
the mute awkward figure; and though Janice did not look
up, there was a moment's flicker of her eyelashes.
"All I wants ter," said Phil, sulkily. "An' I guess that
ere's the feelin' pretty generally."
"Why?" demanded Tabitha, after a glance at Janice.
"'Cause of the airs he takes. He called me a put because
I was a bit slow--ter his mind--in learnin' the manual, an'
he's got a tongue an' a temper like a hedgehog. But the
fellers paid him off come Saturday week."
"How?" asked Janice, dropping her pose of indifference.
"He 's been expectin' ter be appointed captain of the
Brunswick Invincibles, when they was trained, but he put on
such airs, an' was so sharp an' bitin' with his tongue, that
when they voted for officers last week I'll be dinged if they
did n't drop him altogether. He did n't get a vote for so
much as a corporal's rank. He was in a stew, I tells you."
"What did he do?" questioned Tabitha.
"He was so took aback," snickered Philemon, "that he
up and says 't was the last he'd have ter do with 'em, an'
that they was a lot of clouts an' clodpates, an' they 'd got a
captain ter match."
"Was that you?" cruelly asked Janice.
"No. 'T was Joe Bagby," replied Phil, not so much as
seeing the point.
"The village loafer and ne'er-do-weel," exclaimed Janice,
reflecting her father's view.
"He ain't idlin' much these-a-days," asserted Philemon,
"and the boys all like him for his jokes an' good-nature. I
tell you 't was great sport ter see him an' your redemptioner
give it ter each other. Fownes, he said that if 't were n't
better sport ter catch rabbits, he'd mightily enjoy chasm' the
whole company of Invincibles with five grenadiers of the
guard, an' Bagby he sassed back by sayin' that Charles need n't
be so darned cocky, for he'd run from the regulars hisself, an'
then your man tells Joe ter give his red rag a holiday by
talkin' about what he know'd of, for then he'd have ter be
silent, an' then the captain says he was a liar, and Charles
knocks him down, an' stood over him and made him take it
back. An' Bagby he takes it back, sayin' as how his own
words was very good eatin' anyways. I tell you, the whole
town enjoyed that 'ere afternoon."
"I suppose they made you an officer?" said Miss Meredith,
with unconcealed contempt.
"No, Miss Janice," Philemon eagerly denied, "an' that 's
what I come over to tell you. Seem' that you an' the squire
did n't like my drillin', I've left the company, an I won't go
back, I pass you my word."
"'T is nothing to me what you do," responded Janice,
crushingly.
"Don't say that, Miss Janice," entreated Phil.
"Is thee not ashamed," exclaimed Tabitha, "to seek to
marry a girl against her wishes? If I were Janice, I'd never
so much as look at thee."
"She never said as how she--" stammered Hennion.
"That was nothing," continued Tibbie. "Thee shouldst
have known it. The idea of asking the father first!"
"But that 's the regular way," ejaculated Phil, in evident
bewilderment.
"To marry a girl when she does n't choose to!" snapped
Tibbie. "A man of any decency would find out--on the
sly--if she wanted him."
"She never would--"
"As if the fact that she would n't was n't enough!" continued
Tibbie, with anything but Quaker meekness. "Dost
think, if she wanted thee, she'd have been so offish?"
Phil, with a sadly puzzled look on his face, said, "I know
I ain't much of a sharp at courtin', Miss Janice, an' like as
not I done it wrong, but I loves you, that 's certain, an' I
would n't do anything ter displeasure you, if I only know'd
what you wanted. Dad he says that I was n't rampageous
enough ter suit a girl of spirit, an' that if I'd squoze you now
an' again, 'stead of--"
"That 's enough," said Janice. "Mr. Hennion, there is
the door."
"Thou art a horrid creature!" added Tibbie.
"I ain't goin' till I've had it all out with you," asserted
Phil, with a dogged determination.
"Then you force us to leave you," said Janice, rising.
Just as she spoke, the door was thrown open, and Mr.
Meredith entered. His eye happened to fall first on Philemon,
and without so much as a word of greeting to the girls, he demanded
angrily, "Ho! what the devil are ye doing here?
'T is all of a piece that a traitor to his king should work by
stealth."
Even the worm turns, and Philemon, already hectored to
desperation by the girls, gave a loose to his sense of the wrong
and injustice that it seemed to him every one conspired to
heap upon him. "I've done no hugger-muggery," he roared,
shaking his fist in the squire's face, "an' the man 's a tarnal
liar who says I have."
"Don't try to threaten me, sir!" roared back the squire,
but none the less retiring two steps. "Your father's son can't
bully Lambert Meredith. But for his cowardice, and others
like him, but for the men of all sides and no side, we'd have
prevented the Assembly's approving the damned resolves of
the Congress. Marry a daughter of mine! I'll see ye and
your precious begetter in hell first. Don't let me find ye
snooking about my girl henceforth, or 't will fare ill with ye
that I warn ye."
"If 't war n't that you are her father an' an old man, I'd
teach you a lesson," growled Phil, as he went to the door;
"as 't is, look out for yourself. You has enemies enough
without makin' any more."
"There's a good riddance to him," chuckled the squire.
"Well, hast a kiss for thy dad, Jan?"
"A dozen," responded the girl. "But what brought you
back? Surely the Assembly has not adjourned?"
"'T is worse than that," asserted the squire. "For a week
we held the rascals at bay, but yesterday news came from
England that the ministry had determined not to yield, and
in a frenzy the Assembly indorsed the Congress's doings on
the spot. As a consequence this morning the king's governor
dissolved us, and the writs will shortly be out for a new election.
So back I must get me to Brunswick to attend to my
poll. I bespoke a message to Charles by Squire Perkins, who
rid on to Morristown, telling him to be here with the sleigh
to-morrow as early as he could; and meanwhile must trust to
some Trenton friend or to the tavern for a bed, if thy father,
Tabitha, can't put me up."
Charles reported to the squire at an hour the following
morning which indicated either a desire for once to please his
master, or some other motive, for an obedience so prompt
must have necessitated a moonlight start from Greenwood in
order to reach Trenton so early. He was told to bait his
horses at the tavern, and the time this took was spent by the
girls in repeating farewells.
"'T is a pity thee hast to go before Friend Penrhyn hath
spoken," said Tibbie, regretfully.
"Isn't it?" sighed Janice. "I did so want to see how
he'd say it."
"You may--perhaps Charles--" brokenly but suggestively
remarked Tibbie.
"Perhaps," responded Janice, "but 't will be very different.
I know he'll--well, he'll be abrupt and--and excited,
and will--his sentences will not be well thought out before-hand.
Now Penrhyn would have spoken at length and feelingly.
'T would have been monstrously enjoyable."
"At least thee'll find out who Thalia is."
"Oh, Tibbie, I fear me I sha'n't dare. I tried to ask Mr.
Taggart, who, being college-bred, ought to know, but I was so
afraid she was a wicked woman, that I began to blush before
I'd so much as got out the first word. I wish I was pale
and delicate like Prissy Glover. 'T is mortifying to be so
healthy."
"Thy waist is at least two inches smaller than hers, when
't is properly laced."
"But I have red cheeks," moaned Janice," and, oh, Tibbie,
at times I have such an appetite!"
"Oh, Jan! so have I," confided Miss Drinker in the lowest
of whispers, as if fearing even the walls. "Sometimes when
the men are round, I'd eat twice as much but for the fear
they 'd think me coarse and--"
"Gemini, yes!" assented Janice, when the speaker paused.
"Many and many 's the time I've wanted more. But 't is all
right as long as the men don't know that we do."
"Here 's the sleigh," interrupted Tabitha, going to the door.
"Come out quickly, while thy father is having the stirrup cup,
and I'll ask him about Thalia."
"Oh, will you?" joyfully cried Janice. "Tibbie, you're a--"
Miss Meredith's speech was stopped by the two coming
within hearing of the redemptioner, who promptly removed
his cap. "'T will be good to have you back at Greenwood,
Miss Janice," he said with a bow.
"How gracefully he does it!" whispered Tabitha, as they
approached the sleigh. Then aloud she asked, "Charles,
wilt tell me who--who--who was chosen captain of the 'Invincibles'?"
The question brought a scowl to the man's face, and both
girls held their breath, expecting an outbreak of temper, while
Tabitha to herself bemoaned that so unfortunate a subject
sprang first into her thoughts to replace the question she
dared not put. But before the groom replied, the scowl
changed suddenly into a look of amusement, and when he
spoke, it was to say,--
"'T is past belief, Miss Tabitha, except they want to save
their skins by never fighting. 'T was Joe Bagby the bumpkins
chose--a fellow I've knocked down without his resenting
it. A cotswold lion, who works his way by jokes and by
hand-shakes. He 's the best friend of every one who ever
lived, and I make no doubt, if a British regiment appears,
he'll say he loves the lobsters too much to lead the 'Invincibles'
against them."
"No doubt," agreed Tibbie. "Canst tell me also who--
who--how Clarion is?"
But this question was never answered, for the squire appeared
at this point, and the sleigh was quickly speeding
towards Greenwood. It was after dark when it drew up at
its destination, for the spring thaw was beginning, and the
roads soft and deep. Janice was so stiff with the long sitting
and the cold that she needed help both in alighting and in
climbing the porch steps. This the groom gave her, and
when she was safely in front of the parlor fire, he assisted in
the removing of her wraps, while Mrs. Meredith performed a
like service for the squire in the hallway.
"Dost remember your question, Miss Janice," asked
Charles, "just as you drove away from Greenwood?"
"Yes."
"She was one of the three graces."
"Was she very beautiful?"
"The ancients so held her, but they had never seen you,
Miss Janice."
The girl had turned away as she nonchalantly asked the last
question, and so Charles could not see the charmingly demure
smile that her face assumed, nor the curve of the lips, and
perhaps it was fortunate for him that he did not. Yet all
Miss Meredith said was,--
"Not that I cared to know, but I knew Tibbie would be
curious."
XVI
A VARIETY OF CONTRACTS
The spring thaw set in in earnest the day after the
squire's return to Greenwood, and housed the
family for several days. No sooner, however, did
the roads become something better than troughs of
mud than the would-be Assemblyman set actively to work for
his canvass of the county, daily riding forth to make personal
calls on the free and enlightened electors, in accordance with
the still universal British custom of personal solicitation. What
he saw and heard did not tend to improve his temper, for
the news that the Parliament was about to vote an extension
to the whole country of the punitive measures hitherto directed
against Massachusetts had lighted a flame from one end of
the land to the other. The last election had been with difficulty
carried by the squire, and now the prospect was far
more gloomy.
When a realising sense of the conditions had duly dawned
on the not over-quick mind of the master of Greenwood, he
put pride in his pocket and himself astride of Joggles, and
rode of an afternoon to Boxley, as the Hennions' place was
named. Without allusion to their last interview, he announced
to the senior of the house that he wished to talk over the
election.
"He, he, he!" snickered Hennion. "Kinder gettin' anxious,
heigh? I calkerlated yer 'd find things sorter pukish."
"Tush!" retorted Meredith, making a good pretence of
confidence. "'T is mostly wind one hears, and 't will be another
matter at the poll. I rid over to say that tho' we
may not agree in private matters, 't is the business of the
gentry to make head together against this madness."
"I see," snarled Hennion. "My boy ain't good enuf fer
yer gal, but my votes is a different story, heigh?"
"Votes for votes is my rule," rejoined the squire. "The
old arrangement, say I. My tenants vote for ye, and yours
for me."
"Waal, this year theer 's ter be a differ," chuckled Hennion.
"I've agreed ter give my doubles ter Joe, an' he's ter give
hisn ter me."
"Joe! What Joe?"
"Joe Bagby."
"What!" roared the squire. "Art mad, man? That
good-for-nothing scamp run for Assembly?"
"Joe ain't no fool," asserted Hennion. "An' tho' his
edication and grammer ain't up ter yers an' mine, squire, he
thinks so like the way folks ere jest naow a-thinkin' thet it
looks ter me as if he wud be put in."
"The country is going to the devil!" groaned Mr. Meredith.
"And ye'll throw your doubles for that worthless--"
"I allus throw my doubles fer the man as kin throw the
most doubles fer me," remarked Hennion. "An' I ain't by
no means sartin haow many doubles yer kin split this year."
"Pox me, the usual number!"
"Do yer leaseholds all pay theer rents?"
"Some have dropped behind, but as soon as there 's law in
the land again they'll come to the rightabout."
"Exactly," sniggered Hennion. "As soon as theer 's law.
But when 's thet 'ere goin' ter be? Mark me, the tenants
who dare refuse ter pay theer rent, dare vote agin theer landlord.
An' as Joe Bagby says he'll do his durndest ter keep
the courts closed, I guess the delinquents will think he's theer
candidate. Every man as owes yer money, squire, will vote
agin yer, come election day."
"And ye'll join hands with these thieves and vote with
Bagby in Assembly?"
"Guess I mought do wus. But if thet 'ere 's displeasin'
ter yer, jest blame yerself for 't."
"How reason ye that, man?"
"Cuz I had it arranged thet I wuz ter side in with the
king, and Phil wuz ter side in with the hotheads. But yer gal
hez mixed Phil all up, so he's turned right over an' talks ez
ef he wuz Lord North or the Duke of Bedford. Consumaquently,
since I don't see no good of takin' risks, I bed ter
swing about an' jine the young blood."
What the squire said in reply, and continued to say until he
had made his exit from the Hennion house, is far better
omitted. In his wrath he addressed a monologue to his
horse, long after he had passed through the gate of Boxley;
until, in fact, he met Phil, to whom, as a better object
for them than Joggles, the squire at once transferred his
vituperations.
Instead of going on in his original direction, Philemon
turned his horse and rode along with the squire, taking the
rating in absolute silence. Only when Mr. Meredith had
expressed and re-expressed all that was in him to say did the
young fellow give evidence that his dumbness proceeded from
policy.
"Seems ter me, squire," he finally suggested, "like you 're
layin' up against me what don't suit you 'bout dad. I've done
my bestest ter do what you and Miss Janice set store by, an'
it does seem ter me anythin' but fairsome ter have a down on
me, just because of dad. 'T ain't my fault I've got him for a
father; I had n't nothin' ter do with it, an' if you have any one
ter pick a quarrel with, it must be with God Almighty, who
fixed things as they is. I've quit drillin'; I've spoke against
the Congress; an' there ain't nothin' else I would n't do ter
get Miss Janice."
"Go to the devil, then," advised the squire. "No son
of--" There the squire paused momentarily, and after a
brief silence ejaculated, "Eh!" After another short intermission
he laughed aloud, as if pleased at something which
had occurred to him. "Why, Phil, my boy," he cried, slapping
his own thigh, "we'll put a great game up on thy dad.
We'll show him he's not the only fox hereabout."
"And what 'ere 's that?'
"What say ye to being my double in the poll, lad?"
"Run against father?" ejaculated Phil.
"Ay. We'll teach him to what trimming and time-serving
come. And be damned to him!"
"That 'ere 's all very well for you," responded Hennion,
"but he hain't got the whip hand of you like he has of me.
He would n't stand my--"
"He 'd have to," gleefully interrupted the squire. "Join
hands with me, lad, and I'll fix it so ye can snap your fingers
at him."
"But--" began Phil.
"But," broke in the squire. "Nonsense! No but, lad.
Butter--ay, and cream it shall be. Let him turn ye off.
There's a home at Greenwood for ye, if he does--and something
better than that too. Sixteen, ye dog! Sweet sixteen,
rosy sixteen, bashful sixteen, glowing sixteen, run-away-and-want-to-be-found
sixteen!"
"She don't seem ter want me ter find her," sighed Phil.
"Fooh!" jeered the father. "There's only two kinds of
maids, as ye'd know if ye'd been out in the world as I have
--those that want a husband and those that don't. But six
months married, and ye can't pick the one from t' other, try
your best. There's nothing brings a lass to the round-about
so quick as having to do what she does n't want. They are
born contrary and skittish, and they can't help shying at
fences and gates, but give 'em the spur and the whip, and
over they go, as happy as a lark. And I say so, Janice will
marry ye, and mark my word, come a month she'll be complaining
that ye don't fondle her enough."
Mr. Meredith's pictorial powers, far more than his philosophy,
were too much for Philemon to resist. He held out his
hand, saying, "'T is a bargain, squire, an' I'll set to on a
canvass to-day."
"Well said," responded the elder, heartily. "And that 's
not all, Phil, that ye shall get from it. I've a tidy lot of
money loaned to merchants in New York, and I'll get it from
'em, and we'll buy the mortgages on your father's lands.
Who'll have the whip hand then, eh? Oh! we'll smoke the
old fox before we've done with him. His brush shall be well
singed."
The compact thus concluded to their common satisfaction,
the twain separated, and the squire rode the remaining six
miles in that agreeable state of enjoyment which comes from
the sense of triumphing over enemies. His very stride as he
stamped through the hall and into the parlour had in it the
suggestion that he was planting his heel on some foe, and it
was with evident elation that he announced:--
"Well, lass, I've a husband for ye, so get your lips and
blushes ready for him against to-morrow!
"Oh, dadda, no!" cried the girl, ceasing her spinet practice.
"Oh, yes! And no obstinacy, mind. Phil 's a good enough
lad for any girl. Where 's your mother that I may tell her?"
"She's in the attic, getting out some whole cloth," answered
the girl; and as her father left the room, she leaned forward
and rested her burning cheek on the veneer of the spinet for an
instant as if to cool it. But the colour deepened rather than
lessened, and a moment later she rose, with her lips pressed
into a straight line, and her eyes shining very brightly. "I'll
not marry the gawk. No! And if they insist I'll--"
Then she paused.
"How did Janice take it?" asked Mrs. Meredith, when the
squire had broken his news to her.
"Coltishly," responded the father, "but no blubbering this
time. The filly's getting used to the idea of a bit, and will go
steady from now on." All of which went to show how little
the squire understood the nature of women, for the lack of
tears should have been the most alarming fact in his daughter's
conduct.
When Phil duly put in an appearance on the following day,
he was first interviewed by what Janice would have called the
attorney for the prosecution, who took him to his office and
insisted, much to the lover's disgust, in hearing what he had
done politically. Finally, however, this all-engrossing subject
to the office-seeker was, along with Philemon's patience,
exhausted, and the squire told his fellow-candidate that the
object of his desires could now be seen.
"The lass jumped to her feet as ye rid up, and said she'd
some garden matters to tend, so there 's the spot to seek her."
Then the father continued, "Don't shilly-shally with her,
whate'er ye do, unless ye are minded to have balking and
kicking for the rest of your days. I took Matilda--Mrs.
Meredith--by surprise once, and before she knew I was there
I had her in my arms. And, egad! I never let her go, plead
her best, till she gave me one of my kisses back. She began
to take notice from that day. 'T is the way of women."
Thus stimulated, Phil entered the garden, prepared to perform
most valiant deeds. Unfortunately for him, however, the
bondsman had been summoned by Janice to do the digging,
and his presence materially altered the situation and necessitated
a merely formal greeting.
Having given some directions to Charles for continuation of
the work, Janice walked to another part of the garden,
apparently quite heedless of Philemon. Her swain of course
followed, and the moment they were well out of hearing of the
servant, Janice turned upon him and demanded:--
"Art thou gentleman enough to keep thy word?"
"I hope as how I am, Miss Janice," stuttered Phil, very
much taken aback.
"Wilt give me your promise, if I tell thee something, to
repeat it to no one?"
"Certain, Miss Janice, I'll tell nothin' you don't want folks
ter know."
"Even dadda and mommy?"
"Cross my heart."
"You see that man over there?"
"Yer mean Charles?"
"Yes. He is desperately in love with me," announced the
girl.
"Living jingo! He 's been a-troublin' you?"
"No. He loves me too much to persecute me, and,
besides, he's a gentleman."
"Now, Miss Janice, you know as how I--"
"Am trying to marry me against my will."
"But the squire says you'll be gladsome enough a month
gone; that--"
"Ugh!"
"Now please don't--"
"And what I am going to tell you and what you've given
your word not to repeat is this: If you persist in trying to
marry me, if you so much as try to--to--to be familiar, that
moment I'll run off with him--there!"
"You never would!"
"In an instant."
"You 'd take a bondsman rather than me?"