On the morning of her uncle's departure from Midbranch, Roberta came out
on the porch, and took her seat in a large wooden arm-chair, putting
down her key basket on the floor beside her. The day was bright and
sunny, and the shadows of two or three turkey buzzards, who were
circling in the air, moved over the field in front of the house. In this
field also moved, not so fast, nor so gracefully as the shadows, two
ploughs, one near by, and the other at quite a distance. The woods which
shut out a great part of the horizon showed many a bit of color, but the
scene, although bright enough in some of its tones, was not a cheering
one to Roberta; and she needed cheering.
Had it not been for the delay of her father in making his winter visit
to New York, she would now be in that city, but if things had gone on as
she expected they would, she would have been perfectly satisfied to
remain several weeks longer at Midbranch. Junius Keswick, who had not
visited the house for a long time, had come to them again; and, now that
the subject of love and marriage had been set aside, it was charming to
have him there as a friend. They not only walked in the woods, but they
took long rides over the country, Mr Brandon having waived his
objections in regard to his niece riding about with gentlemen. She had
even been pleased with the unexpected return of Lawrence Croft, for, for
reasons of her own, she wished very much to have a talk with him. But he
had not fulfilled his promise to her, and had gone away in a very
unsatisfactory manner.
This morning she felt a little lonely, too, for Junius had left the
place before breakfast, and she did not know where he had gone; and her
uncle had actually ridden away to see that horrible widow Keswick,
merely stating that his errand was a business one, and that he would be
back the next day. Roberta knew that there had been a great deal of
business, particularly that of an unpleasant kind, between the two
families, but she did not believe that there was any ordinary affair
concerning dollars and cents which would require the presence of her
uncle at the house of his old enemy. She was very much afraid that he
had gone there to try to smooth up matters in regard to Junius and
herself. The thought of this made her indignant. She did not know what
her uncle would say, and she did not want him to say anything. He could
not make the horrible old creature change her mind in regard to the
marriage, and if this was not done, there was no use discussing the
matter at all, and she did not wish people to think she was anxious for
the match.
It was plain, however, that her uncle's desire for it had experienced a
strong revival; and the unexpected return of Lawrence Croft had probably
had a great effect on him. He had not objected to the visits of that
gentleman during the summer, but he had never shown any strong liking
for him, and Roberta said to herself that she could not see, for her
part, why this should be; Mr Croft was a thorough gentleman, an
exceedingly well educated and agreeable man.
As to Junius, she was afraid that he had not the spirit which she used
to think he possessed. There was something about him she could not
understand. In former days, when Junius was in New York, she compared
him with the young men there, very much to his advantage, but now Mr
Croft seemed to throw him somewhat in the background. When Croft wanted
to do anything he did it; even his failure to come to her when he said
he would do so showed strength of will. If Junius had promised to come
he would have come, even if he had not wanted to do so, and there would
have been something weak about that.
While she thus sat thinking, and gazing over the landscape, she saw afar
off, on a portion of the road which ran along-side the woods, a vehicle
slowly making its way to the house. Roberta had large and beautiful
eyes, but they were not of the kind which would enable her to discover
at so great a distance what sort of vehicle this was, and who was in it.
As the road led nowhere but to Midbranch she was naturally desirous to
know who was coming. She stepped into the hall, and, taking a small
bell, rang it vigorously, and in a moment her youthful handmaiden,
Peggy, appeared upon the scene. Peggy's habit of projecting her eyes
into the far away could often be turned to practical account for her
vision was, in a measure, telescopic.
"What is that coming here along the road?" asked Miss Roberta, stepping
upon the porch, and pointing out the distant vehicle.
Peggy stood up straight, let her arms hang close to her sides, and
looked steadfastly forth. "Wot's comin', Miss Rob," said she, "is the
buggy 'longin' to Mister Michaels, at de Springs, an' his ole
mud-colored hoss is haulin' it. Dem dat's in it is Mahs' Junius an'
Mister Crof'."
"Are you sure of that?" exclaimed Miss Roberta in astonishment. "Look
again."
"Yaas'm," replied Peggy. "I's sartin shuh. But dey jes gwine behin' de
trees now."
The road was not again visible for some distance, but when the buggy
reappeared Peggy gave a start, and exclaimed: "Dar's on'y one pusson in
it now, Miss Rob."
"Which is it?" exclaimed her mistress quickly, shading her eyes, and
endeavoring to see for herself.
"It's Mister Crof'," said Peggy. "Mahs' Junius mus' done gone back."
"It is too bad!" exclaimed Miss Roberta. "I will not see him. Peggy,"
she said, snatching up the key basket, and stepping toward the hall
door, "when that gentleman, Mr Croft, comes, you must tell him that I am
up-stairs lying down, that I am not well, and cannot see him, and that
your Master Robert is not at home."
"Ef Mahs' Junius come, does you want me to tell him de same thing?"
"But you said he was not in the buggy," said her mistress.
"No'm," answered Peggy, "but p'raps he done cut acrost de plough fiel',
an' git h'yar fus'."
"If he comes first," said Miss Roberta, a shade of severity pervading
her handsome features, "I want to see him." And with this, she went
up-stairs.
Peggy, with her shoes on, possessed the stolid steadiness of a wooden
grenadier, for the heaviness of the massive boots seemed to permeate her
whole being, and communicated what might be considered a slow and heavy
footfall to her intellect. Peggy, without shoes, was a panther on two
legs, and her mind, like her body, was capable of enormous leaps.
Slipping off her heavy brogans, she made a single bound, and stood upon
the railing of the porch, and, throwing her arm around a post, gazed
forth from this point of vantage.
"Bress my eberlastin' soul!" she exclaimed, "if Mister Crof ain't got
ter de road gate, and is a waitin' dar fur somebody to come open it!
Does he think anybody gwine to see him all de way from de house, and
come open de gate? Reckin' he don' know dat ole mud-color hoss. He
mought git out and let down de whole fence, an' dat ole hoss ud nebber
move. Bress my soul moh' p'intedly! ef Mahs' Junius ain't comin' 'long
ter open de gate!"
For a few moments Peggy stood and stared, her mind not capable of
grasping this astounding situation. "No, he ain't nudder!" she presently
exclaimed with an air of relief. "Mahs' Junius done tole him dat ef he
want dat gate open he better git down and open it hese'f. Dat's right
Mahs' Junius! Stick up to dat! Dar go Mahs' Junius into de woods an'
Mister Crof' he git out, an' go after him. Dey's gwine to fight, sartin,
shuh! Lordee! wot fur dey 'low dem bushes ter grow 'long de fence to
keep folks from seein' wot's gwine on!"
There was nothing now to be seen from the railing, and Peggy jumped down
on the porch. Her activity seemed to pervade her being. She ran down the
front steps, crossed the lawn, and mounted the stile. Here she could
catch sight of the two men who seemed to be disputing. This was too much
for Peggy. If there was to be a fight she wanted to see it; and, apart
from her curiosity, she had a loyal interest in the event. Down the
steps, and along the road she went at the top of her speed, and soon
reached the gate. Her arrival was not noticed by any one except the
mud-colored horse, who gazed at her inquiringly; and looking through the
bars, without opening the gate, Peggy had a good view of the gentlemen.
The situation was a more simple one than Peggy had imagined. The road,
for the last half mile, had been an up-hill one, and Keswick, as much to
stretch his own legs as to save those of the horse, had alighted to
walk, while Lawrence, as in duty bound, had waited for him at the gate.
Here a little argument had arisen. Keswick, who did not wish to be at the
house, or indeed about the place while Roberta was having her conference
with Mr Croft, had said that he had concluded not to go up to the house at
present, but would take a walk through the woods instead. Lawrence, who
thought he divined his reason, felt an honorable indisposition to accept
this advantage at the hands of a man who was, most indisputably, his
rival. If they went together it would not appear as if he had waited for
Keswick's absence to return; and there would still be no reason why he
should not have his private walk and talk with Miss March.
At all events, it seemed to him unfair to leave Keswick at the gate
while he went up to the house by himself, and the notion of it did not
please him at all. Keswick, however, was very resolute in his
opposition. He objected even to seeing Roberta and Croft together. He
thought, besides, if he and Croft came to the house at the same time it
would appear very much as if he, Junius, had brought the other, and this
was an appearance he wished very much to avoid. He had walked away, and
Lawrence had jumped from the buggy to continue the friendly argument
which was not finished when Peggy arrived. Almost immediately after this
event Keswick positively insisted that he would go for a walk, and
Lawrence reluctantly turned toward the vehicle.
Peggy's mind was filled with horror. Master Junius had been frightened
away, and the other man was coming up to the house! She could not stand
there and allow such a catastrophe. Jerking open the gate, she rushed
into the road and confronted Keswick.
"Mahs' Junius," she exclaimed, "Miss Rob's orful sick wid her back an'
her j'ints, an' she say she can't see no kump'ny folks, an' Mahs' Robert
he done gone away to see ole Miss Keswick. I jes run down h'yar to tell
you to hurry up."
Keswick started. "Where did you say your Master Robert had gone?"
"To ole Miss Keswick's. He went dis mawnin'."
Junius turned slightly pale, and addressing Mr Croft, said: "Something
very strange must have happened here! Miss March is ill, and Mr Brandon
has gone to a place to which I think nothing but a matter of the utmost
importance could take him."
"In that case," said Mr Croft, "it will be highly improper for me to go
to the house just now. I am very glad that I heard the news before I got
there. I will return to the Springs, and will call to-morrow and inquire
after Miss March's health. Do not let me detain you as your presence is
evidently much needed at the house."
"Thank you," said Keswick, hurriedly shaking hands with him. "I am
afraid something very unexpected has happened, and so beg you will
excuse me. Good-morning." And passing through the gateway, he rapidly
strode toward the house, while Lawrence prepared to turn his horse's
head toward the Springs.
But, although Junius Keswick walked rapidly, Peggy, who had started
first for the house, kept well in advance of him. Away she went,
skipping, running, dancing. Once she stopped and turned, and saw that
the buggy, with the mud-colored horse, was being driven away, and that
Master Junius was coming along the road to the house. Then she started
off, and ran steadily, the rapid show of the light-colored soles of her
feet behind her suggestive of a steamer's wake. Up the broad stile she
went, two steps at a time, and down the other side in a couple of jumps;
a dozen skips took her across the lawn; and she bounded up to the porch
as if each wooden step had been a springing board. She rushed up-stairs,
and stood at the open door of Miss Roberta's room where that lady
reclined upon a lounge.
"Hi', Miss Rob!" she exclaimed, involuntarily snapping her fingers as
she spoke. "Mahs' Junius comin', all by hese'f, an' I done sent de udder
gemman clean off, kitin'!"