"I'm an honest lad, though I be poor,And I niver was in love afore—"
"Gerald!" cried Margaret. "Gerald, help!" and she dropped quietly off the rock, under the very feet of the black cattle.
When she came to herself, she was propped against the rock, and Gerald was fanning her with his cap and gazing at her with eyes of anxiety and tenderness, which yet had a twinkle in their depths.
"Better?" he asked, as he had asked oncebefore under somewhat similar circumstances. "Do say you are better, please! The house isn't on fire this time, and neither is the Thames."
Margaret struggled into a sitting posture. "Oh! Gerald," she said, "I am so ashamed! You will think I am always fainting, and, indeed, I never have in all my life except these two times. But they were so terrible—ah! there they are still."
Indeed, the herd of cattle was standing near, still gazing with gleaming eyes; but, somehow, the look of ferocity was gone. She could even see—with Gerald beside her—that they were noble-looking creatures.
"Oh, no!" said Gerald. "Don't call them terrible; you will hurt their poor old feelings. I know them of old, Horatio; fellows of infinite jest."
"Are they—are they tame?" asked Margaret, in amazement.
"Tame? I should say so. Look at thisfellow! I have known him from a calf. Did um want um's nosy rubbed?" he added, addressing the huge leader, who was snuffing nearer and nearer. "Come along, then, Popolorum Tibby, and tell um's prettiest aunt not to be afraid of um any more."
"But—but they came all around me!" said poor Margaret.
"Small blame to them! Showed their good sense, not to say their taste. But to be wholly candid, they came for salt."
"For salt? Those great monsters?"
"To be sure! Ellis, the farmer, makes regular pets of them, and I always put a lump of salt in my pocket when I am coming their way. I never saw them in this pasture before, though; the fence must be broken. I believe I have some grains of salt left now. See him take it like a lady!"
He held out his hand, with a little heap of salt in it. The huge ox came forward, stepping daintily, with neck outstretched andnostrils spread; put out a tongue like a pink sickle, and neatly, with one comprehensive lick, swept off every particle of salt, and looked his appreciation.
Gerald patted the great muzzle affectionately.
"Good old Blunderbore!" he said. "I almost carried you when you were a day old, though you may not believe it. Come, Margaret, give him a pat, and say you bear no malice."
Margaret put out a timid hand and patted the great black head. Blunderbore snuffed and blew, and expressed his friendliness in every way he could.
"Why, he is a dear, gentle creature!" said the girl. "I shall never be afraid of him again. And yet—oh, Gerald, I am so glad you came!"
"So am I!" said Gerald.
"Because," Margaret went on, "of course, I see how silly and foolish I was; but all thesame, I was terribly frightened, and I really don't know what would have become of me if you had not come, Gerald."
"But I did come, Margaret! I will always come, whenever you want me, if it is across the world."
"But—you must think me soverysilly, Gerald!"
"Do you wish to know what I think of you?" asked Gerald.
Margaret was silent.
"Because, for the insignificant sum of two cents, I would tell you," he went on.
"I haven't two cents with me," said Margaret. "I think it is time to go home now, Gerald."
"Generosity is part of my nature," said Gerald; "I'll tell you for nothing. Margaret—sit down, please!"
Margaret had risen to her feet. The words had the old merry ring, but a deep note quivered in his voice. The girl was afraid,she knew not of what; afraid, yet with a fear that was half joy. "I—I must go, Gerald, indeed!" she said, faintly.
"You must not go," said Gerald, gravely. "It is not all play, Margaret, between you and me. My cap and bells are off now, and you must hear what I have to say."
Margaret, still hesitating, looked up in his face, and saw something there that brought the sweet color flooding over her neck and brow, so swift and hot that instinctively she hid her face in her hands.
But gently, tenderly, Gerald Merryweather drew the slender hands away, and held them close in his own.
"My dearest girl," said the young man, "my dearest love, you are not afraid of me? Sit down by me; sit down, my Margaret, and let me tell you what my heart has been saying ever since the day I first saw you."
So dear Margaret sat down, perhaps because she could hardly stand, and listened.And the black cattle listened, too, and so did the fish-hawk overhead, and the little birds peeping from their nest in the birch wood close at hand; but none of them ever told what Gerald said.
"I thinkit is a horrid bother, if you want to know!" said Willy.
"Willy Merryweather! aren't you ashamed of yourself? I never heard anything so odious, when we are all so happy, and everything is so perfectly lovely. I don't see what you mean."
"I don't care, itisa bother. Nothing is the way it used to be; it's all nothing but spooning, all over the lot."
"I should not think you would use vulgar expressions, anyhow, Willy."
"'Spooning' isn't vulgar," said Willy, sulkily. "I've heard Pa say it, so there! And—look here, Kitty! Of course, it's all corking, and so on, and anyhow, girls like thatkind of fuss; but it does spoil everything, I tell you. Why, Pa couldn't get a crew for the war canoe yesterday. He wanted to go to Pine Cove—at least I did, awfully, and he said all right, so we would; and then Jerry was off with Margaret in theKeewaydin, and Bell and Jack were out in the woods fiddling, and Peggy and Phil—I say, Kitty! You don't supposetheyare going to get spoony, do you?"
Kitty looked very wise, and pursed her lips and nodded her head with an air of deep mystery.
"You don't!" repeated Willy, looking aghast.
"Hush, Willy!" said Kitty. "Don't say a word! don't breathe it to anybody! I hope—Ithinkthey are!"
"What a mean, horrid shame!" cried Willy, indignantly. "I do think it is disgusting."
His sister turned on him with flashing eyes. "It is you that is the shame!" she cried. "Itis you who ought to be ashamed, Willy. Do you want poor Phil to be all alone when Jerry is married? Do you know that twins sometimes pine away anddie, Willy Merryweather, when the other of them dies?"
"Jerry isn't going to die," said Willy, uncomfortably. "What nonsense you talk, Kitty."
"Well, marries. I should think very likely they would, then, if they didn't get married themselves. I think you are perfectly heartless, Willy. And dear Peggy, too, so nice and jolly! and if she goes away back out Westwithoutfalling in love with Phil, we may never, never see her again; and she has promised me a puppy of the very next litter Simmerimmeris has. So there!"
Willy was silent for a moment, kicking the pebbles thoughtfully.
"Do you think she is—that?" he asked at length, shamefacedly.
"Of course I don'tknow!" said Kitty, judicially."Of course very likely nothing is positively decided yet; but I am sure she likes him very, very much, and he takes her out whenever he has a chance."
"There's nobody else for him to take out," put in Willy; "the others are all spoon—"
"Willy, don't be tiresome! and just think! if they should get married and go to live out West, then you and I could both go out to see them, and ride all the ponies, and punch the cows, and have real lassoes, and—and—"
The children were coming home through the wood. Kitty's voice had gradually risen, till now it was a shrill squeak of excitement; but at this moment it broke off suddenly, for there was a rustling of branches, and the next moment Gertrude stood before them with grave looks.
"My dear chicks," she said, "you must not talk so loud. I was in the pine parlor, and could not help hearing the last part of what you were saying. And anyhow, I would nottalk about such things, if I were you. Suppose Peggy had been with me! How do you think she would have felt? Mammy would not like to have you gossiping in this foolish way."
The children hung their heads.
"Oh! Toots," said Kitty, "I am sorry! I didn't realize that we were getting anywhere near the house. We were only thinking—at least I was—how lovely it would be if Peggy and Phil should—"
"Kitty dear, hush!" said Gertrude, decidedly. "You would better not think, and you certainlymust nottalk, about anything of the kind. There are enough real love-affairs to interest you, you little match-maker, without your building castles in the air. Let Peggy and Phil alone!"
"I should think there were!" said Willy. "That's just what I was saying, Toots; it's nothing but spooning, all over the place. There's no fun anywhere; this wretchedlove-making spoils everything.Ithink it's perfectly childish."
"Do you, Willy dear?" said his sister; and her smile was very sweet as she laid her hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Yes, I do. Here are the white perch rising like a house afire, and I can't get a soul to go with me. It was just the same yesterday, and it's like that almost every day now."
"Oh, Willy! I'll go with you," cried Kitty, eagerly. "Why didn't you tell me the perch were rising? Let's come right along this minute. Toots will help us with the boat, won't you, Toots?"
"Yes, I'll help!" said the Snowy Owl.
Ten minutes later the white boat was speeding on her way to the fishing-ground, the little rowers bending to their oars, chattering merrily as they went.
"That's one comfort!" Willy was saying. "We've got Toots. Nobody will get her away from us."
"I should hope not," said Kitty. "There's nobody good enough, in the first place; and besides, of course somebody must stay with Papa and Mamma."
"I suppose you will be grown up yourself some day!" said Willy, gruffly.
"I shall be likely to marry very young," said Kitty, seriously. "I heard Aunt Anna say so."
Gertrude stood on the wharf, looking after the retreating boat. "Poor Willy!" she said, with a smile; "itishard on him!"
She looked around her. It was afternoon, a still, golden day. The lake was as she loved best to see it, a sheet of living crystal, here deep blue, here glittering in gold and diamonds, here giving back shades of crimson and russet from the autumn woods that crowded down to the water's edge. Far out, her eye caught a white flash, the gleam of a paddle; there was another, just at the bend of the shore; and was that dark spot the prowof a third canoe, moored in the fairy cove of Birch Island? Gertrude smiled again, and her smile said many things.
Presently she raised her arms above her head, and brought them down slowly, with a powerful gesture. "How good it would be to fly!" she said, dreamily. "To fly away up to the iceberg country, where the snowy owls live!"
She stood for a long time silent, gazing out over the shining water. At last she shook herself with a little laugh, and turned away. The white canoe, her own especial pet, was lying on the wharf. She launched it carefully, then taking her paddle, knelt down in the bow. A few long, swift strokes, and the canoe shot out over the lake, and rested like a great white bird with folded wings, then glided slowly on again. It was a pity there was none to see, for the picture was a fair one: the stately maiden kneeling, her golden hair sweeping about her, her white arms risingand falling slowly, rhythmically, in perfect grace.
"Tu-whoo!" said the Snowy Owl.
But only the loon answered her.
BOOKS FOR GIRLSBy Laura E. RichardsTheMARGARET SERIESThree MargaretsMargaret MontfortPeggyRitaFernley HouseTheHILDEGARDE SERIESQueen HildegardeHildegarde's HolidayHildegarde's HomeHildegarde's NeighborsHildegarde's HarvestDANA ESTES & COMPANYPublishersEstes Press, Summer St., Boston
BOOKS FOR GIRLSBy Laura E. Richards
TheMARGARET SERIESThree MargaretsMargaret MontfortPeggyRitaFernley House
Three MargaretsMargaret MontfortPeggyRitaFernley House
TheHILDEGARDE SERIESQueen HildegardeHildegarde's HolidayHildegarde's HomeHildegarde's NeighborsHildegarde's Harvest
Queen HildegardeHildegarde's HolidayHildegarde's HomeHildegarde's NeighborsHildegarde's Harvest
DANA ESTES & COMPANYPublishersEstes Press, Summer St., Boston
DANA ESTES & COMPANYPublishersEstes Press, Summer St., Boston
The Captain January SeriesBy LAURA E. RICHARDSOver 350,000 copies of these books have been soldCAPTAIN JANUARY$ .50Same. Illustrated Holiday Edition1.25Same. Centennial Edition Limited2.50MELODY.50Same. Illustrated Holiday Edition1.25MARIE.50ROSIN THE BEAU.50NARCISSA.50SOME SAY.50JIM OF HELLAS.50SNOW WHITE.50Each volume attractively bound in cloth, withhandsome new cover design. Frontispiece byFrank T. MerrillDANA ESTES & COMPANYPublishersEstes Press, Summer St., Boston
The Captain January SeriesBy LAURA E. RICHARDS
Over 350,000 copies of these books have been sold
Over 350,000 copies of these books have been sold
CAPTAIN JANUARY$ .50Same. Illustrated Holiday Edition1.25Same. Centennial Edition Limited2.50MELODY.50Same. Illustrated Holiday Edition1.25MARIE.50ROSIN THE BEAU.50NARCISSA.50SOME SAY.50JIM OF HELLAS.50SNOW WHITE.50
CAPTAIN JANUARY$ .50Same. Illustrated Holiday Edition1.25Same. Centennial Edition Limited2.50MELODY.50Same. Illustrated Holiday Edition1.25MARIE.50ROSIN THE BEAU.50NARCISSA.50SOME SAY.50JIM OF HELLAS.50SNOW WHITE.50
Each volume attractively bound in cloth, withhandsome new cover design. Frontispiece byFrank T. Merrill
Each volume attractively bound in cloth, withhandsome new cover design. Frontispiece byFrank T. Merrill
DANA ESTES & COMPANYPublishersEstes Press, Summer St., Boston
DANA ESTES & COMPANYPublishersEstes Press, Summer St., Boston
Transcriber's Notes:Obvious punctuation errors repaired.The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.