"I never saw anything like it. But don't fear that you shocked me. I
wish that I could see the same thing every evening."
"You're good not to mind it. Mother and father think it sweet, and I
dance for them sometimes. Now, if you don't mind, we will go back. I'm a
little tired to-night from my journey. Good-night, Uncle Zeb," she
patted the old man's hand. "Good-night, Lindy, Jane, Dinah, Sambo,
Tom--all of you!" She waved her hand, and, to a chorus of answering
good-nights, we moved away.
X
The grandfather's clock which stood in the hall struck twelve. My eyes
seemed loath to close in sleep. It is true I had not gone to bed till
half-past eleven, but usually Sleep sat upon my pillow, and proceeded to
blindfold me a few minutes after my going to bed. To-night, upon
reaching my room, I had read and smoked, and smoked and read, until my
nerves had been brought back to their normal state. It fretted me not a
trifle to know that a girl from boarding-school had upset me. But the
ingenuous frankness of this young being, the unaffectedness which waited
upon her every movement, had wrought such demolition to my theories
that I was slow in recovering my equipoise of thought. At length I
strolled through a mazy vista to oblivion, surrounded by a dancing
throng of seraphs.
My rest was untroubled, and when I threw open my window-shutter the next
morning, and gazed out with sleep-blurred eyes, my first impression was
that things had become topsy-turvy, and that a soft sky studded with
stars lay before me. But as reason swiftly dominated my brain, I saw
that instead of the phenomenon which had at first seemed apparent, there
was only the bluegrass lawn thickly sown with dandelions, as though some
prodigal Croesus had strown his wealth of gold broadcast. Perhaps the
lowly, modest yellow flowers were but imitating the glittering orbs
which had looked down upon them throughout the night--who knows? For is
not reasoning man oftentimes just as vain, when he seeks to clothe
himself with a majesty which is not for mortals?
For several days I adhered to the plans which I had laid out before the
coming of Salome. I rode with the master about the farm, took my
solitary walks with Fido, as usual, and spent most of each evening in my
room, alone. If left to the dictates of my own will, there is no telling
how long this would have continued. But one morning, at breakfast, my
host surprised me with the words:
"Stone, you remember the old St. Rose church you spoke of? It's worth
looking at, but the Lord knows when I'll have a chance to go with you.
S'lome's a great favorite with the sisters over at St. Catherine's,
which is about a half mile from St. Rose, and I heard her tell mother
yesterday that she was going to ride over to pay her respects this
morning. Me and my folks are Presbyterians, but nearly all of our
neighbors are Catholics, and good people, and we like them. Now if you'd
like to go 'long, I don't s'pect S'lome'd mind showin' you 'bout the
place."
He looked at the daintily clad figure at my side with an interrogative
smile.
"It would be a great favor to me," I put in hastily. "I had been
thinking of late I would have to go alone, but if Miss Salome would not
object, I should be pleased to go with her."
"Of course you may," she answered readily. "I love both places very
much, and the sisters are so sweet. Sister Hyacintha is my favorite,--a
dear old nun with the face of a saint. Do you like old-timey, quiet
places, Mr. Stone? St. Rose church is perhaps the oldest building in the
county. St. Catherine's is not half a mile from it, and the sisters
conduct a boarding-school there. Had I been a Catholic, I doubtless
would have received my education at that place."
I quickly assured her that I looked forward with much pleasure to our
little trip, and asked her if we were to go horseback, or in the
carriage.
"Oh, horseback!" she exclaimed, with the delight of a child. "I believe
you are a good horseman," she added archly.
"Only fair," I responded, smiling. "Still I would much prefer to go that
way. I enjoy the exercise so much."
And so it was arranged. I had no dress for this sort of thing, and I
felt a trifle out of place when she joined me on the porch arrayed in a
complete riding habit of black. From her gauntlets to her silver-handled
whip, her attire was complete. I flushed.
"You know I am not accustomed to riding--will you pardon my
appearance?"
"It makes no difference whatever!" She laughed merrily. "The feathers
don't make the bird, and I am perfectly satisfied."
My mount was the same animal I had been used to, and the horse which had
been led out for her was a wiry, dapple-gray mare of impatient blood. I
knew the correct thing to do, and while I feared that I could not
perform the service successfully, I determined to try. So as she walked
towards the fretful mare which a negro was with difficulty restraining,
I stepped forward, doffed my hat, and with "Permit me, Miss Salome," I
bent, and hollowed my hand for the reception of her foot. With the
naturalness and grace of a queen she placed the sole upon my palm, and I
lifted her to the spring as though she had been a feather, and she sank
into the saddle and grasped the reins, which she proceeded to draw taut
with no uncertain hold. With my cheeks burning slightly--I was not used
to waiting upon women--I sought my saddle, and we cantered away.