In Orchard Glen

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In Orchard Glen Page 9

by Mary Esther Miller MacGregor


  CHAPTER IX

  THE DREAM KNIGHT

  Trooper came tearing back to Orchard Glen, the finest sight the placehad ever seen, in a smart uniform the colour of the dun fields he hadforsaken so gaily. The day he burst upon the village there was such acrowd around him at the post office that it looked like election timesand Dr. McGarry neglected his practice and followed him about.

  "Eh, if I was only ten years younger I'd be going with you, Trooper,"he cried enthusiastically. "Perhaps, I'll get there yet. There'll beplenty more going over before this business is done. None of us hasany idea what this war is going to be like, let me tell you."

  "It'll not last long," declared Mr. Holmes, not so much from convictionas because that was the opinion he had given forth at first and he mustadhere to it. Besides he and the Doctor were opposed in politics andreligion, and they would naturally hardly agree about the war.

  Trooper continued to be the centre of attraction for the few days hespent at home before he was called to Valcartier. Though he was in thevillage for such a short time he found an opportunity to assistMarmaduke in a farewell piece of mischief, and though neither of themhad any notion of involving Christina in their prank, she, quiteaccidentally, became one of the most interested parties.

  The two village mischief-makers had long been hatching a plot to getWallace Sutherland away from his mother and off with the girls.Trooper had promised the first one who would capture him and take himhome with her to supper before he left, the biggest box of chocolateshe could buy in Algonquin.

  Though Wallace Sutherland had been living quietly in Orchard Glen allsummer, his prospects were much better than they had been on his returnhome.

  When Uncle William was in his most adverse mood, he had written acaustic letter hinting that he had grave doubts concerning Wallace'sill health interfering with his examinations. And just that very week,a kindly fate intervened, and Wallace became really ill. Dr. McGarrywaited on him hand and foot, giving him every care possible, and at thesame time declaring that it was nothing but too much to eat and toolittle to do that ailed the boy.

  When Uncle William heard, however, he really repented of his hardheart; not very humbly, for that was not Uncle William's way, but quitesubstantially, nevertheless. He did not believe in agreeing with hisadversary too quickly, so he wrote to his brother instead of to hisnephew. He admitted that he might possibly have been too hasty withthe young rascal, and he would give him one more chance, and only one.He might come back to the University at Christmas, and if he could takethe supplemental examination that would be set for him, then, he couldgo on to the end of his course. Uncle William did not think it wouldbe wise to let him return this coming Autumn, he ought to be kept inexile for a little while longer. And they would have to see that hestudied; make him sweat a bit over his failures and a few months up inthat backwoods concession where Peter lived would be beneficial, itmight induce meditation; there must be lots of quiet lying around loosein that forsaken region. And above all things they must try to knockit into his head that this was absolutely his last chance.

  Uncle William McGarry was one of those Canadians who, having made moneyin the great United States, was convinced that there was nothing goodin Canada, since he had always been rather poor there. His attitudealways nettled the Doctor who was a warm Britisher, and when heanswered the letter there was more about the young men who wereresponding to the call of the Empire from this same back concession,than there was about the subject in hand.

  Nevertheless Wallace's prophecy had come true. Uncle Will hadrecovered from his bilious attack. His convalescence took ratherlonger than the young optimist had expected, but as his recovery seemedsure, there was nothing more to worry about except the interveningstudies. He went at his lessons with a right good will, and thensomething happened that disturbed the even course of his life. Andthat was the prank that Trooper and Marmaduke played before the formerwent to the war.

  Christina had been to town. She had gone alone, on an errand for John,because Sandy and Jimmie were both very busy in the harvest fields. Itwas a very warm, dusty day and she let Dolly walk leisurely on thehomeward road. When she came to the village she stopped at the postoffice for the mail.

  She would not have confessed for the sake of a college course that shewas wondering if there was any possibility of meeting WallaceSutherland there. Christina could not have stooped to the littlesubterfuges the other girls practiced to waylay him at the corner, butnone the less she could not help wishing that she might encounter himin some way that would attract his attention. He was always sopleasant when she met him, but he raised his hat to her and said, "Goodafternoon, Miss Christine," in exactly the way he spoke to Tilly orBell Brown or Maggie Blair.

  Marmaduke was sitting on the store veranda as she came up, and Trooperwas leaning against the door-post, very smart and handsome in hisuniform with his buttons and his spurs all aglitter. Bell Brown andMaggie Blair were there as usual, and as Mrs. Holmes was not in thestore there was a great deal of hilarity.

  Marmaduke, in his role of the village Lover, had been courting each ofthe girls in turn and immediately transferred his affections the momentChristina appeared.

  "Hello, Christine!" he cried, "you don't get down here as often asthese other girls do; and here I've been spendin' days jist waitin' fora sight of you. I've been jist that lonesome for you,--will you thinkjust the same of me if I go to the war?"

  "I'm sure even the war couldn't make me change my opinion of you,Duke," she answered with twinkling eyes. "Oh, Trooper!" she drew along breath of admiration, "and you're really and truly going to thewar!"

  "You bet! Goin' in cavalry too, so I can make a swift get-away whenthe Germans take after me!"

  "I'm thinkin' of goin' to the war myself," said Marmaduke, who wastrying to cover up his real grief under an unusually frivolousexterior. "I might as well go and get killed if none o' yous girls 'lllook at me. Honest now, Christine, what would you take and go westwith me next Spring? Now that Trooper is leavin' I'm not goin' to hanground here any longer," he added with a touch of real seriousness.

  "Well, I suppose I'd have to take my trunk, first of all," saidChristina, "and Grandpa and Mother--I couldn't leave them."

  "Pshaw," giggled Tilly, "he was askin' me that very same thing beforeyous girls came in, and I told him I'd take a gun so's I could shootmyself when we got there. No letters for your folks to-day, Christine,but your fellow's letter don't come till to-morrow anyhow," she addedwith a giggle at her joke.

  "Oh, say girls," whispered Bell Brown, "look who's comin'!"

  Wallace Sutherland was swinging down the street and came up the verandasteps in two graceful springs.

  "Hello, Tilly! Hello, young ladies!" he cried in the free gay mannerthat was the hope of the girls and the despair of his mother. He madea profound bow to Marmaduke. "And how is His Grace the Dook to-day?Hello, Trooper! Oh, say, don't I wish I were going with you!"

  Marmaduke gave him a poke with his peg leg. Like every one else inOrchard Glen he liked Wallace.

  "And how is Lord Sutherland?" he asked in return, "I hear you'regettin' brain fag studyin' the latest novels."

  Wallace did not deign to notice this. "Miss Tilly," he exclaimed, "I'msure you've some letters for me away back there, now haven't you?"

  Tilly flew to the little wicket and came tripping back with her handsfull, her cheeks pink, her curls bobbing.

  "Just one for the Doctor, and one for your mother, and only papers foryou," she cried apologetically.

  He leaned over the counter, "Come now," he said coaxingly, "are youquite sure you haven't hidden mine away somewhere?"

  "She's forgotten to write to you, I guess she's got another fellow,"giggled Tilly.

  Christina turned towards the door. She wished with all her might thatshe could talk and joke with him as Tilly did, but even if she couldthere was no opportunity. He did not seem to notice she was there.

  "Come along, girls," she said
to Maggie and Bell, "I'm going home andyou can drive up the hill with me if you like."

  Marmaduke, who had been in a hurried whispered conference with the twogirls, rose and hobbled after them, the light of a great inspirationdancing in his eyes.

  Christina climbed into her old buggy as Wallace came out on the verandafollowed closely by Tilly.

  "Look here, Christine," cried Marmaduke, winking solemnly at her,"you're goin' to get your neck broke one o' these days, drivin' thatmare, with the road full o' cars. What does John mean lettin' you?"

  "Dolly!" cried Christina in amazement, "why she wouldn't--" she caughta frantic warning wink from Trooper's dancing eyes and paused. If theboys were playing some prank on Maggie and Bell it would be too bad ofher to spoil it.

  "She's dangerous, Christine," put in Trooper, "I've seen her actin'like a wild cat on the road. There was a girl killed the other dayover in Grey County. Horse took fright at a Ford and ran away andbusted everything!"

  "Mercy, me!" cried Bell Brown, who had her foot on the buggy step andnow jumped back. "I wonder if there'll be any cars coming along beforewe get home?"

  "There's a big car full o' town folks visitin' up at McKenzies due tobe along here any min'it," cried Marmaduke nervously. "You better stayhere till it passes, Christine."

  "Well," said Christina, still doubtful of her part in the play, "ifyou're scared to come with me girls, you needn't, but I can't wait--"

  "Look here, Trooper," cried Duke, "hop in there and drive them kidshome. That car at McKenzies looks like a thrashin' machine an' thatmare'll go clean crazy. Here Christine, here's Trooper, he'll go withyou."

  "Oh, do come, Trooper," cried Maggie Blair tremulously, "Christine's areckless driver and Dolly's dreadful with cars."

  Christina sat looking on at the little comedy, laughing and wonderingwhat its outcome was to be.

  Just then Mrs. Johnnie Dunn came honking home from town and stormedpast the store. Dolly would not have so much as switched her tail andthe little play all arranged for Wallace Sutherland would have beenspoiled had Trooper not come to its rescue. He gave a heroic leap tothe mare's head, clutching her bridle and shouting:

  "Whoa, Dolly, whoa now! Whoa there!" Marmaduke joined him, calling onChristina to hold tight. The mild Dolly was really startled and jerkedup her head and pranced about in a very realistic manner indeed, and ittook some patting and coaxing to get her quieted.

  "Now, look at that, Christine!" cried Tilly, who was not in the play,and had screamed quite spontaneously.

  "Well," cried Bell, coming forward nobly with her part, "that settlesit for me. Trooper won't come, he's scared Joanna'll see him, so I'mgoing to walk. You'll have to risk it yourself, Christine."

  "Aw, come along and drive us home, Trooper," cried Maggie. "I'm justtoo tired to walk up the hill."

  "Say, I would now, but I can't leave here, girls. I was to meetCaptain Morris here at five." He turned as if with a suddeninspiration. "Here, now. Here's Mr. Sutherland. Why don't you askhim to drive you? He's the very fellow for the job. Can't you drivethese girls up the hill, Wallace? Here they are all scared to death,man."

  "The very job for me!" cried Wallace gallantly. "I'll drive you acrossCanada if you'll let me, Miss Christine. Hop in girls. Is there roomfor us all?"

  For a moment Christina hesitated, a moment of weakness. She hadsuddenly seen through the joke. It was a plan to get Wallace to driveoff with the girls right under his mother's nose. She felt too deeplyon the subject to take part in any such foolish jest. But she couldnot very well stop the impetuous young man who had scrambled into thebuggy, and was now seated between her and Bell, while Maggie placedherself upon Bell's knee. And while she hesitated he caught up thelines with a gay flourish.

  "Now, we'll all likely be killed," he cried. "But what's thedifference so long as we die happy!" And he gave Dolly a terrible lashwith the whip and shouted, "Get along there, you."

  Now in all Dolly's quiet well-ordered life she had never felt anythingbut the gentlest encouragement from a whip, neither had anything in hermemory ever pulled on her mouth in this dreadful manner. There wasboth terror and indignation in the leap she gave into the air, and theignorant driver, taken quite unaware, pulled on one line so that thebuggy was almost overturned. Then away they went at a gallop up thestreet, first on the edge of one ditch, then on the edge of the other,while the two plotters left on the veranda, ready to fall over withlaughter, suddenly became sober as they saw a chance of their jokeending in a catastrophe.

  There was no feigning in Bell's terror now. She had turned pale, andwas crying out, "Oh, Christine, take the lines, take the lines!"

  But Christina needed no bidding. Already she had caught the reins inher strong brown hands, shoving the young man's aside sharply.

  "You, you idiot!" was what she said, though she did not know it untilafterwards. She was too angry to say more, too genuinely alarmed.With the firm familiar hand on the lines, and Christina's voice callingsoothingly, Dolly's panic began to subside. She came down to a canter,then to a trot.

  "Well!" cried the young man in real amazement. "She is some horse.How do you ever manage to drive her?"

  Christina was too angry to answer yet. She could never bear to see anydumb animal hurt, and to have Dolly, her pet, struck--she could feelthe lash of the whip across her own back and was tingling withindignation. And she was more deeply angry for another reason. Shehad divined by Wallace's free manner that he understood just as well asany of the girls that this had all been a ruse to capture him and carryhim off, and she felt enraged that she had to lend herself to such ahumiliation. She would show him that she was no party to the scheme bygetting rid of him then and there.

  When she managed to get Dolly down to a walk she stopped her altogetherjust at the foot of the hill, and turned upon the young man withblazing eyes.

  "Why did you not tell me you didn't know the first thing about drivinga horse?" she demanded.

  Wallace Sutherland stared at her. To him Christina Lindsay was merelyone of the village girls, whom he had gone to school with, in boyhooddays, some of whom waylaid him at the post office to walk home with himand all of whom were anxious for his favour. But suddenly one of themhad detached herself from the crowd and stood out alone and indignant,displaying vigorously the very opposite of admiration or a desire toplease.

  "It was brutal to strike a poor animal like that," she continued, stillsmarting for Dolly and for her own self respect.

  Wallace felt the blood rise to his face. He remembered that she hadcalled him an idiot. "I suppose you are waiting for me to get out?" hereplied stiffly. For answer Christina turned her horse's head, and thewheel moved aside invitingly for him to alight. Maggie and Bell brokeinto a duet of apologies and protestations.

  "Oh, Mr. Wallace, don't go! Why Christine, how can you act like that?He didn't know Dolly was going to be so wild!" But Christina wasfeeling more for herself than for Dolly and was inexorable. Wallacejumped out, and raised his hat stiffly. But she did not even glance athim, and drove away quickly up the hill.

  "Don't you girls know that he's just making fun of us?" she criedhotly. "He knew just as well as you did that it was all a put up job,and he was a big, stupid, cruel thing to hit Dolly that way, so now."Christina experienced a fierce relief to her outraged pride in thusbeing able to revile him.

  Maggie Blair was always inclined to be dominated by Christina, and shelooked ashamed. What if her mother were to discover what she had beendoing? But Bell was inclined to argue the matter, and the drive up thehill was anything but pleasant. However, neither of the girls was verymuch disturbed. Christina had made herself obnoxious forever toWallace Sutherland, while he would think none the less of them forbeing full of fun.

  This was the thought uppermost in poor Christina's mind also, when shereached home and her anger cooled leaving only shame and regret. Shehad behaved rudely,--oh, abominably,--to the one person whom above allothers she wished to ple
ase. He would despise her and never look ather again. If she had only acted with dignity, but she had called himan idiot! She was overwhelmed with shame when she remembered that.

  She longed for the advice of Ellen or even Mary and she confided hertroubles to her mother in the evening as they sat sewing on the veranda.

  "Well, well," her mother said comfortingly, not dreaming how badlyChristina was hurt, "indeed I would rather you acted as you did, thanto be taking part in such norms. But I think you would be rather hardon the lad because he did not know how to drive."

  It was poor comfort when your heart was broken, when your Dream Knighthad actually sat by your side and ridden with you and you had treatedhim as though he were a kitchen knave. The only crumb of comfortChristina had was that which her pride provided. At least Wallacewould never dream that she had been silly enough to set him up on apedestal, dream about him at night, and watch for him by day. But itwas a very small and cheerless comfort in a whole world of misery.

  But the result of her outrageous conduct towards the village hero wastotally unlooked for. Wallace became very much interested in thisspunky Lindsay girl. She was different from the other girls, the onereproving thorn in a field of admiring roses. That alone made herrather refreshing. Then he did not like to have a nice girl angry withhim. He was a warm-hearted, easy going lad, who disliked oppositionand disfavour and would do much to please any one. He was genuinelysorry, too, that he had hurt Dolly, for he was the opposite of cruel bynature.

  So the very next evening when he saw Christina and Sandy pass on theirway to that weekly function, Choir Practice, he remembered that thegathering was to be a sort of farewell to Trooper, and with this excusehe suddenly announced that he thought he would go.

  "Of course you'll go," cried his uncle heartily. "We can't do honourenough to the boys that are going overseas to give their lives for us.I'd like to go, too! I'll drop in when I get back from my trip toDalton."

  So Wallace went off and was welcomed warmly by Tremendous K. and put inthe bass row where Marmaduke and Trooper were sitting.

  "You didn't seem to be able to keep up with that runaway horse,yesterday," said Marmaduke.

  "I'd like to hammer the two of you jokers for putting up a job likethat on me," Wallace said good-naturedly.

  "Don't do anything to me," pleaded Duke, "Christina's been lookin' atme like a buzz saw all evenin'."

  "I'll bet she wasn't in it," cried Wallace, suddenly anxious thatChristina should be vindicated.

  "No, she wasn't," admitted Trooper. "And I notice she didn't let youstay in it long either," he added with a grin.

  "You got let down by one of the girls that time all right," boastedMarmaduke. "You'll find out you can't get too gay with a Lindsay."

  Wallace felt put upon his mettle immediately. He would show them thateven as outspoken and independent a young lady as Miss ChristinaLindsay was not likely to continue her opposition long. He felt a keendelight in the thought of his victory.

  Tremendous K. called them sharply to order and the business of singingthrough an anthem for Sunday was finished hastily, and the realbusiness of the evening, a farewell to Trooper, was taken up. They hadcollected enough money to give him a wrist watch, the older women ofthe church had knit him a half dozen pairs of socks, and there was afarewell address which had been prepared by Mr. Sinclair expressingvery feebly a little of what the community felt at the departure oftheir gay and gallant young rider of the plains.

  When it was all over, Gavin Grant watched for Christina. She had beenso kind and friendly every time he had seen her lately, especially whenthey met, as they sometimes did, up on the hills, that he was beginningto wonder if he might not once more put his fortune to the test.

  He waited for her outside the open door; she came out, looking aboutanxiously for some girls going in her direction, when to Gavin'sdismay, Wallace Sutherland stepped to her side, and leaning over hewhispered something. And then they walked away side by side up thehill.

  But Gavin's distress was nothing to the feeling of Maggie and Bell.This seemed incredible after the way Christina had acted. She hadcalled him an idiot, and literally turned him out of her buggy, andyet, here he was seeing her home the very next morning! Truly no onecould tell what was the best way to treat a young man!

  Meanwhile Christina's amazement knew no bounds. Wallace went straightto the point.

  "I want to apologise, Miss Christine," he said humbly, "I know now whyyou were so angry and I don't blame you a bit. It was all Marmaduke'snonsense and I shouldn't have joined it."

  "Oh, it's I who ought to apologise!" cried Christina in a rush ofgratitude. "I was dreadfully rude, but I wanted you to know it wasn'treally you I was angry with, but with the girls and Marmaduke."

  "Well you hid your feelings pretty well," he said ruefully, and thenthey both laughed.

  "You see I really don't know much about a horse," he confessedhurriedly. "A car is a different proposition. I thought that usingthe whip was the same as turning on the gasoline and I didn't expectsuch an explosion."

  "I am afraid that I was the one that was guilty of the explosion," saidChristina contritely, and they grew very friendly over their mutualapologies. Wallace had expected that a reconciliation would have beena difficult matter. He was not the sort to be sorry that it was not.He was very happy to find that, after all, this tall, frank girl, whoheld herself aloof from the doings at the corner, was inclined to lookupon him with friendliness in her bright eyes. He very much enjoyedapologising to her and kept on doing it after they had reached herhome, and they stood together in the moonlight listening to the softwhisper of the leaves in the poplar trees at Christina's gate.

  Of course every one noticed that Wallace Sutherland had gone home withChristina Lindsay, and so much comment did this cause that the factthat Trooper and Joanna walked away together very slowly did notattract much attention. It was probably the last time. Joanna'sspirits had left her. She could not find the strength to pretend anylonger. She was silent and miserable on the way home and Trooper wassilent too. This last leave was a trying experience. He might nevercome back, might never see Joanna's handsome face again, and, afterall, no one would care so much if he were killed as Joanna. And sothey hung over the gate long after her father had gone to bed, andfinally when Trooper tore himself away, he whispered, "Now, not aminute later than four o'clock," and Joanna answered, "Do you suppose Icould forget?"

  Mark Falls always rose at six o'clock, called his daughter and wentinto the blacksmith shop returning at seven for his breakfast. Hefollowed the usual rule the next morning but when he returned, Joannahad no breakfast ready for him. There was a cold lunch set out on thetable but there was no fire in the kitchen stove and no tea made. Hewas a rather cross-grained man but he knew it was never safe toantagonise his daughter and so he called rather mildly up-stairs, "Hi,there Joan, you ain't sick are you?" but Joanna did not answer and hemounted the stairs slowly grumbling about the young folk who wouldnever go to bed at night and never get up till mid-day, and then hestopped in the middle of Joanna's open door. The bed was made and theroom was in its usual spotless order, but there was no sign of itsowner. And then he noticed a note pinned to the pillow with his nameon it. He tore it open in dismayed haste. Mark Falls had always hadthe idea that Joanna would run away some day, perhaps because she wasalways threatening to do it. His mind worked rather slowly and he hadscarcely time to formulate his fears when he had read the note.

  "Dear Pa, There's mush on the back of the stove and you can warm it upfor yourself. Mitty will likely come over and get your meals till Icome back. I guess I will be back on Friday. Trooper and I are goingin to Algonquin to get married before he goes away. You don't need tomake a fuss for if you do there is no great cause for to stay home atall, Joanna."

  Mark Falls merely grunted. It was always what he expected of Joan, hedeclared, she was flighty like her mother.

  He sat down morosely to his breakfast. The mush wa
s not very good whenit was warmed up. He felt sure that Mitty would never cook things ashe liked them. By the time he had finished his unpalatable breakfasthe decided that he would act upon Joanna's hint and make no fuss whenshe returned. Whatever his daughter's temper, there was no doubt shecould make the kind of meals a man could eat.

 

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