CHAPTER XVIII.
Two days later Mr. Robert Glenowen arrived at Second Westings by theHartford coach, alighting to be publicly kissed and embraced with aheedless fervour which would have been a scandal to the community, hadnot the community by this time grown accustomed to Barbara's joyousflouting of its conventions. Barbara had established for herself ageneral privilege, and Second Westings had ceased to do more than liftits eyebrows.
"It's the same Barbara, the same naughty little baggage of mine I lefttwo years ago, for all that her petticoats are longer, and herlovelocks shorter, and she takes the trouble to powder her saucy littlenose!" said Mr. Glenowen, presently, holding her at arms' length, andeyeing her with critical approval.
Barbara endured the scrutiny for a moment or two, then her dark cheeksflushed, her lips pouted, and she impetuously thrust herself again intohis arms.
"I have grown up since you saw me, Uncle Bob!" she cried, kissing himon both cheeks.
"Whose fault is that?" he asked, again pushing her away that he mightsearch her eyes.
"Aunt Kitty's!" answered Barbara, innocently, her eyes as clear as achild's.
Mr. Glenowen laughed, held her with his left arm about her slim waist,and stepped up toward the inn door to greet Doctor John and Doctor Jim,who had held themselves in the background that Barbara might have thefirst greetings uninterrupted.
A few minutes later the four were on the way to Mistress Mehitable's,walking up the middle of the street. Barbara and her uncle, arm inarm, walked between, with the great bulks of Doctor John and Doctor Jimon either side, seeming to overshadow them; while a little way behindtrudged Amos, in his blue duffle shirt and leather breeches, carryingthe baggage.
In this position, framed as it were and set off by Doctor John andDoctor Jim, the likeness between Barbara and her uncle came out asnever before, so that both the brothers exclaimed at it together.Glenowen was a shade above middle height, with square, athleticshoulders, and no suggestion of leanness; but he had the sameindescribable lightness, swiftness, fineness of bearing, whichcharacterised Barbara. Under his very smart three-cornered hat ofblack beaver with its fashionable rosette, his thick, bronze-black,vigorous hair, which was worn in a queue and tied with an ample ribbon,had the same rebellious wave in it that Barbara's had. His face, likeBarbara's, was short, with slightly rounded forehead, rounded chin,firm jaw, cheeks somewhat thin, lips full and passionate. ButBarbara's mouth was sad, while Glenowen's was laughing, daring, tender;and Barbara's eyes were of a transparent, fathomless, gray-green,sometimes flaming, sometimes darkly inscrutable, while Glenowen's wereof a sunny, merry brown, darkening and growing keen as steel when hewas intent. As he was carrying his gauntlet gloves of light,American-made goat-leather, the further likeness to Barbara came out inhis bare hands, which were dark and slender and fine like hers, withlong-oval, polished, aristocratic nails. Barbara herself would neverwear gloves about Second Westings in summer, save at meeting, or whenriding, or in pulling herbs or cutting flowers. She loved nice gloves,as a dainty and suggestive article of toilet; but she loved the freedomof her little, sensitive fingers, and felt that Second Westings had noatmosphere to fit the suggestion of gloved hands. It was manifest thatBarbara was chiefly a Glenowen,--but it was equally manifest that hereyes were the eyes of the Ladds; for they were profoundly differentfrom those of her Uncle Bob, and so far as enigmatic gray-green couldresemble untroubled sky-blue, they were like to the deep, transparenteyes of Mistress Mehitable.
Mr. Glenowen brought to Second Westings a lot of presents for Barbara,a whiff of freshness from the outside world, and an indefinable senseof ferment and change. It was as if the far-off tales of strifebetween king and colonies ceased on the sudden to be like the affairsof story-books, and became crystallised, by the visitor's merepresence, into matters of vital import. A premonition of vast eventsflashed through the quiet heart of the village; and from the day of thearrival of Mr. Robert Glenowen by the Hartford coach, the repose ofSecond Westings was never again quite the same.
Yet Glenowen at this time was no partisan. He was merely in activetouch with the troubles of the time, and vexatiously divided withinhimself. By sentiment, taste, and tradition a Tory, and byintellectual conviction a Whig, he shunned rather than courted argumentin which he could heartily support neither side. Nevertheless, beforedinner was over, all the company, save Barbara, were at him,--MistressMehitable and Doctor Jim on the one side, and Doctor John, withwhimsical insinuations and Parthian shafts, on the other. As forBarbara, she was too happy to care whether kings thwarted colonies orcolonies thwarted kings, so long as she might sit in unwonted andradiant silence and beam upon her Uncle Bob.
But Mr. Glenowen was not to be entrapped into any serious discussionsso soon after his journey. He showed an unmistakable and determineddesire to play. Barbara's one curl, where he had been wont to seemany, was of concern to him. Her one kitten--now admitted to thedignified precincts of the dining-room since the other two had beengiven away, the day before, to Doctor Jim and Mercy Chapmanrespectively--appeared to him of more concern than Mr. Adams or LordNorth. He was brimful of appreciative merriment over the story ofBarbara's adventurous voyage, and troublesomely interrogative as to thevarious attributes of Robert. He had attentive inquiries for oldDebby, and Mercy Chapman, and Keep, and the Reverend Jonathan Sawyer,and Black Prince, and many others whom none would have dreamed he couldremember after two years of well-occupied absence. By the time dinnerwas over none had achieved to know whether Uncle Bob would call himselfTory or Whig. Barbara, of course, felt confident that he was ajoyously established rebel; while Doctor Jim was equally sure he was aking's man through and through. The others were in doubt.
Nor was Mr. Glenowen more communicative when the meal was done. He wasthen too impatient even to smoke his pipe, for haste to get at histravelling-bags and show Barbara what he had brought for her. As hepulled out these treasures one by one, Barbara forgot all the dignityof her lengthened frocks, and screamed with delight, and kissed himspasmodically, and exhausted her rich vocabulary of endearments in thevain effort to give her rapture words; till Doctor John and Doctor Jimvowed they would have to go a journey themselves ere long, if only tobring Barbara presents and find out in person how sweet she could be.While Mistress Mehitable remarked demurely that "such knowledge of whatwould please a woman could only have been attained by more assiduity ineffort than was quite becoming, surely, in a bachelor!"
"I hope, dear mistress," retorted Uncle Bob, with laughing eyes, "thatthe discernment with which you so generously credit me did not failwhen I was selecting this little gift, unmeet as it is to adorn yourcharms." And on one knee he presented to her a bundle in green tissue,tied delicately with gilt cord.
All crowded about Mistress Mehitable while she undid the cord, andunfolded, with blushes, and with little breathless exclamations notunworthy of Barbara herself, an elaborately ruffled and laced Frenchnight-rail, embroidered heavily with silk, and lettered in gold threadwith her initials.
It was such a gown as often served to make bedroom receptions popular.And Mistress Mehitable, though she held those customs in scorn asindolent and frivolous, had a healthy feminine delight in such sweetfripperies of apparel as this creation of French art. Amid the clamourof applause it was some moments before she could word heracknowledgments. At last she said:
"I shall perhaps thank you less fervently than I do now, Mr. Glenowen,for this delightful present, when its fascinations keep me fromsleeping. I'm afraid I shall lie awake just to appreciate it!"
"Sleep, rather, I beg you, fair mistress, and honour me with some smallplace in your dreams!" cried Uncle Bob, gallantly.
"Fie! Fie! Fie!" said Mistress Mehitable, shaking at him a slim,reproving finger. "You must not put such gallantries into these youngpeople's heads. Doctor Jim is steady enough, but such notions are veryupsetting to John and Barbara!"
"Glenowen, you young scoundrel, sir!" roared Doctor Jim, "what do youmean by coming in here and t
urning our girls' heads with your boldcompliments and French night-rails? I marvel at your devilishaudacity, sir! You'll have trouble on your hands before you know whatyou're about,--eh, what?"
Uncle Bob was darting around the room like a pleased boy, delightedwith the effect he had produced, delighted with his success in pleasingMistress Mehitable, and in bringing out the gayer, brighter side of herconscience-burdened spirit.
"Pistols, Pigeon! Pistols let it be, this very night after moonset,under Mistress Mehitable's window!" he cried, slapping Doctor Jim'sgreat shoulders. "I give you fair warning I shall bring the dear ladya far handsomer one the next time I come!"
Barbara, meanwhile, and Mistress Mehitable, and Doctor John, had theirheads close together over the intricate and beautiful embroidery,admiring each fine detail in careful succession.
"It is _perfectly beautiful_!" pronounced Barbara, at length, with adeep breath of satisfaction and a consciousness of duty loyally done.There were several of her own presents which she admired morefervently, and she already had five, with the possibility of more yetto come from Uncle Bob's wonderful bag. But she felt it would not beplaying fair if she failed to give full measure of time and fervour tosympathising with Aunt Hitty in her good fortune. At the same time,she felt that in her aunt's frank delight in such a frivolous and quiteunnecessarily beautiful garment she had found a new bond ofunderstanding with that long-misunderstood lady.
But Mistress Mehitable had yet one more word to say before she wasready, in turn, to give undivided attention to Barbara's fortunes.
"I am going to confess, Mr. Glenowen," said she, with a smiling,half-shamefaced glance, as she held up the dainty creation of lawn andlace and silk, caressing her smooth pink and white cheek with it, "I amgoing to confess that this lovely garment is just such a thing as Ihave longed to have, yet should have considered it wickedself-indulgence to purchase. Even so sober and prosy a dame as I maydearly love the uselessly beautiful. I'm beginning to doubt whether Ireally want to be quite so useful and competent as I am thought to be.You, Mr. Glenowen, a comparative stranger, and with but a casual,courteous regard for me, have read my heart as these my dearest andlifelong friends, who would, I believe, give their right hands to serveme, could not do."
"Glenowen, you die to-night!" roared Doctor Jim, knitting his greatbrows.
But Doctor John was on one knee at Mistress Mehitable'sblack-satin-shod small feet, one hand upon his breast.
"Nothing more utilitarian than silk stockings, most dear andunexpectedly frivolous lady," he vowed, "shall be my tributes ofdevotion to you henceforth!"
"And mine shall be garters, fickle Mehitable!" cried Doctor Jim,dropping on his knee beside Doctor John, and swearing with likesolemnity. "Silk garters,--and such buckles for silk garters!"
"And little silk shoes, and such big buckles for little silk shoes!"said Doctor John.
"And silk petticoats!" went on Doctor Jim, antiphonally. "Brocadedsilk, flowered silk, watered silk, painted silk, corded silk, tabbysilk, paduasoy silk, alamode silk, taffety silk, charrydarry--" tillMistress Mehitable put her hand over his mouth and stopped the streamof his eruditions.
"And silk--and silk--" broke in Doctor John, once more, butstammeringly, because his knowledge of the feminine wardrobe wasfailing him. "Tut, tut, silk night-rails, indeed! The scoundrel! Thevagabond Welshman! May I die of Jim Pigeon's physic if I don't makeshift--make silk shift--"
"John!" cried Mistress Mehitable, in tone of rebuke, and pushing themboth away from her. "Get up at once, both of you, and don't be sosilly!"
Her eyes shone, and her cheeks were flushed with mingled pleasure andembarrassment, and Glenowen realised that she was much younger andprettier than he had been wont to think.
"O Mehitable-demoralised-by-Barbara!" vowed Doctor John, towering overher. "Your sweet and now perverted soul shall be satisfied withgewgaws! I, John Pigeon, swear it!"
"_O Mehitable-demoralised-by-Barbara!" vowed DoctorJohn._]
"Then I want a bosom-bottle, of Venice glass and gold filigree, to keepmy nosegays from withering!" retorted Mistress Mehitable, flashing upat him a look of her blue eyes. "I've never had such a chance as thisin all my life!"
"There now, hussy!" growled Doctor Jim, turning upon Barbara. "Seewhat you have done. In three days you have demoralised her completely.And I see the ruin of John and Jim Pigeon, buying her things!"
But Barbara was by this time too absorbed in her own things to heed thecatastrophe thus impending. It was plain that Uncle Bob had beenprosperous these past two years,--and equally plain that he was in fullsympathy with Barbara's tastes. First of all, there were books,--ahandsomely bound copy of Sir Philip Sidney's "Arcadia," an old,time-stained copy of "England's Helicon," a copy in boards of theadmired "Odes" of Mr. Gray, and a copy of Mr. Thompson's "The Castle ofIndolence." With these, in strange companionship, a white silkmask,--a black velvet mask with silver buttons on silver cord behindthe mouth, to enable the wearer to hold it in place with her lips, whenboth hands might chance to be occupied,--and a small pistol, inlaidwith silver and mother-of-pearl. This seductive little weapon Barbarahugged rapturously to her breast. Though she would not kill anythingfor the world, she loved to feel she could be slaughterous an shewished!
Then came wonders of the wardrobe. Barbara hungered to try them on allat once, and in truth made marvellous efforts toward that unachievableend. There were kerchiefs of sheerest lawn and lace, and ofembroidered silk. There were two pairs of silk garters, three pairs ofsilk stockings, and six pairs of fine thread stockings. She loved thesilk stockings as she did the pistol and Sir Philip Sidney. There wereshoes, low, shapely, thin-soled shoes of red morocco, and blackchamois, and black satin, and a pair of daintiest slippers of whitesatin, all with buckles satisfyingly resplendent.
"I knew your feet would never be any larger than they are now,"explained Uncle Bob, "so having the opportunity to get some uncommonfine shoes at a price uncommon reasonable, I thought it just as well toembrace occasion boldly!"
"But how _did_ you _ever_ guess the right size, Uncle Bob?" criedBarbara, in ecstasy, trying on a black satin one with supremeforgetfulness of company manners, and poking out ingenuously the mostbewitching foot in the thirteen colonies. "Do just look. It fits likea glove!"
Stooping quickly as if to examine it, Doctor Jim engulfed it in onelarge, white hand; and kissed it just above the glittering buckle.
"There, Bob Glenowen," he growled, as he straightened himself, "is thatthe proper civility to show a lady when she pokes out her foot at you?I suppose you would pocket the shoe and carry off the lady! Eh, what?"
"How dare you kiss my niece without my leave?" demanded Mr. Glenowen.
"He shall kiss me just whenever he likes, and no one in the world shallinterfere!" declared Barbara, springing up, and pulling Doctor Jim'sneck down to be swiftly hugged. "But--how _did_ you know the rightsize, Uncle Bob?"
A look passed between Mistress Mehitable and Glenowen; and Barbara,intercepting it, understood in a flash.
"Oh! Oh! Aunt Hitty! _You_ did it!" she shrieked, clapping herhands. "You sent him my green silk slipper for a pattern! And I'vebeen thinking I had lost it! And I was ashamed to tell you! Oh, howdear, and deceitful of you, honey!"
"Here, indeed, is the delinquent slipper!" acknowledged Uncle Bob,drawing the green silk toy from his bag. He handed it over to MistressMehitable, for Barbara was again absorbed, her glowing face, with onemassive black curl hanging straight past her cheek, bent low over herspoils, among which were lengths of silk,--a rich brocade, a taffeta,and a silk Damascus, out of which her quick fancy conjured up a dreamof petticoats, panniers, and bodices that should appear mostsumptuously grown-up. There were gloves, too, and mitts; and a mightyhandsome little "equipage" of silver-gilt, containing scissors,thimble, nail-trimmer, tweezers, and such small needments, to hang atthe left side of her bodice. There was a flimsy affair of a"lovehood," silk and gauze and mystery, from which Barbara's vivid,petulant,
dark little face flashed forth with indescribablebewitchment. This love-hood, swore Doctor John, should never be wornby Barbara on the streets of Second Westings, for reasons affecting thepublic weal, as it would bedevil the Reverend Jonathan Sawyer himselfin the very sanctuary of his pulpit. Barbara suddenly looked forwardwith interest to going to meeting on the following Sunday, bedecked inthe disastrous love-hood.
Last, but not least in Barbara's eyes, there was an exceedinglydelicate frivolity in the shape of a carven gilt patch-box, about aninch and a half in length. In the top was set a painted chinamedallion, representing a richly dressed shepherdess enwreathed inroses, with the appropriate posy:
"My love in her attire doth show her wit, It doth so well become her!"
On the inside of the cover was a tiny mirror. When Barbara, silentwith delight, peered into this mirror, she caught a vision of herselfin a gay ballroom, patched and powdered and furbelowed, shattering thehearts of a host of cavaliers, who every one of them looked like arelative of Robert Gault.
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