CHAPTER X
A SILK GOWN AND A BOTTLE
It was toward the end of June that Miss Dora Bannister returned from afortnight's visit to some friends at the seashore, and she had been homea very little while, when she became convinced that her most importantduty was to go to see that young girl at Cobhurst. It seemed verystrange that so long a time had passed since the arrival of theHaverleys into the neighborhood, and she had never yet seen his sister.In Miss Bannister's mind there was a central point, about whichclustered everything connected with Cobhurst: that point was a youngman, and the house was his house, and the fields were his fields, andthe girl was his sister.
It so happened, the very next day, that Herbert Bannister found itnecessary to visit a lady client, who lived about four miles beyondCobhurst, and when Dora heard this she was delighted. Her brother shouldtake her as far as Cobhurst with him; they should start early enough togive him time to stop and call on Ralph Haverley, which he most certainlyought to do, and then he could go on and attend to his business, leavingher at Cobhurst. Even if neither the brother nor the sister were at home,she would not mind being left at that charming old place. She would takea book with her, for there were so many shady spots where she could sitand read until Herbert came back.
Herbert Bannister, whose mind was devoted to business and the happinessof his sister, was well pleased with this arrangement, and about threeo'clock in the afternoon the buggy containing the two stopped in front ofthe Cobhurst portico.
The front door was open, and they could see through the hall and the openback door into the garden beyond.
Dora laughed as she said, "This is just what happened when I came herebefore,--everything wide open, as though there were no flies nor dogs norstrangers."
Herbert got out and rang the bell: he rang it twice, but no one came.Dora beckoned him to her.
"It is of no use," she said; "that also happened when I came before.They don't live in the house, at least in the daytime. But Herbert,there is a man."
At this moment, the negro Mike was seen at a little distance, hurryingalong with a tin pitcher in his hand. Herbert advanced, and called tohim, and Mike, with his pitcher, approached.
"The boss," he said, in response to their inquiries, "is down in the bigmeadow, helpin' me get in the hay. We tried to git extry help, buteverybody's busy this time o' year, an' he an' me has got to step alongpretty sharp to git that hay in before it rains. No, Miss, I dunno wherethe young lady is. She was down in the hay-field this mornin', rakin',but I 'spects she is doin' some sort of housework jes' now, or perhapsshe's in the garden. I'd go an' look her up, but beggin' your pardon, Iain't got one minute to spare, the boss is waitin' for me now," and,touching his shabby old hat, Mike departed.
"What shall we do?" asked Herbert, standing by the buggy.
"I think," said Dora, slowly and decisively, as if she had fullyconsidered the matter, "that you may as well go on, for I don't supposeit would do to disturb Mr. Haverley now. I know that when people aremaking hay, they can't stop for anything."
"You are right," said her brother, with a smile; "hay-making the will ofa rich man on his death-bed; it must be done promptly, if it is done atall. I shall go on, of course, and you will go with me?"
"No, indeed," said Dora, preparing to get down from the buggy; "I wouldnot want to wait for you in that tiresome old horse-hair parlor of theDudleys. I should ever so much rather sit here, by myself, until you comeback. But of course I shall see her before long. Isn't it funny, Herbert?I had to look for her when I came here before, and I suppose I shallalways have to look for her whenever I come."
Her brother admitted that it was funny, and accepting her arrangement,he drove away. Dora rang the bell, and stepped into the hall. "I willwait here a little while," she said to herself, "then I will go toPhoebe's house, and ask her where she is. If she does not know, I do notin the least mind walking over to the hay-field, and calling to Mr.Haverley. It would not take him three minutes to come and tell me where Iwould better go to look for his sister."
At this Miss Bannister smiled a little. She would be really glad to knowif Mr. Haverley would be willing to leave that important hay, and makeeverything wait until he came to speak to her. As she stood, she lookedabout her; on a table by the wall lay a straw hat trimmed with flowers,and a pair of long gloves, a good deal soiled and worn. Dora's eyespassed carelessly over these, and rested on another pair of gloves,larger and heavier.
"He hasn't driven much, yet," she said to herself, "for they look almostnew. I wonder when he will break his colts. Then, I suppose, he willdrive a good deal."
Dora was a girl who noticed things, and turning to the other side of thehall, she saw a larger table, and on it lay a powder-horn and ashot-flask, while in the angle of the table and the wall there stood adouble-barrelled fowling-piece. This sight made her eyes sparkle; he mustlike to hunt and shoot. That pleased her very much. Herbert never caredfor those things, but she thought a young man should be fond of guns anddogs and horses, and although she had never thought of it before, shenow considered it a manly thing to be able to go out into the hay-fieldand work, if it happened to be necessary.
She went to the back door, and stood, looking out. There was nobodystirring about Phoebe's house, and she asked herself if it would be worthwhile to go over to it. Perhaps it might be as well to stroll toward thehay-field. She knew where the great meadow was, because she had lookedover it when she had stood at the wide barn window with Mr. Haverley. Hehad pointed out a good many things to her, and she remembered them all.
But she did not go to the hay-field. Just as she was about to step outupon the back porch, she heard a door open behind her, and turning, saw,emerging from the closed apartment which contained the staircase, astrange figure. The head was that of a young girl about fourteen, withlarge, astonished blue eyes, and light brown hair hanging in a long plaitdown her back, while her form was attired in a plum-colored silk gown,very much worn, torn in some places, with several great stains in thefront of the skirt, and a long and tattered train. The shoulders wereever so much too wide, the waist was ever so much too big, and the longsleeves were turned back and rolled up. In her hand the figure held alarge glass bottle, from the mouth of which hung a short rubber tube,ending in a bulbous mouth-piece.
Dora could not suppress a start and an expression of surprise, but sheknew this must be Miriam Haverley, and advanced toward her. In a momentshe had recovered her self-possession sufficiently to introduce herselfand explain the situation. Miriam took the bottle in her left hand, andheld out her right to Dora.
"I have been expecting you would call," she said, "but I had no idea youwere here now. The door-bell is in the basement, and I have beenupstairs, trying to get dough off my hands. I have been making bread, andI had no idea it was so troublesome to get your hands clean afterwards;but I expect my dough is stickier than it ought to be, and after that Iwas busy getting myself ready to go out and feed a calf. Will you walkinto the parlor?"
"Oh, no," cried Dora, "let me go with you to feed the calf; I shall likethat ever so much better."
"It can wait just as well as not," said Miriam; "we can sit in the hall,if you like," and she moved toward an old-fashioned sofa which stoodagainst the wall; as she did so, she stepped on the front of hervoluminous silk gown, and came near falling.
"The horrid old thing!" she exclaimed; "I am always tripping over it,"and as she glanced at Dora the two girls broke into a laugh. "I expectyou think I look like a perfect guy," she said, as they seatedthemselves, "and so I do, but you see the calf is not much more than aweek old, and its mother has entirely deserted it, and kicks and horns atit if it comes near her. It got to be so weak it could scarcely stand up,and I have adopted it, and feed it out of this bottle. The first time Idid it I nearly ruined the dress I had on, and so I went to the garretand got this old gown, which covers me up very well, though it looksdreadfully, and is awfully awkward."
"To whom did it belong?" asked Dora. "It is made in such
a queerway,--not like really old-fashioned things."
"I am sure I don't know to whom it belonged," said Miriam. "There areall sorts of things in our garret,--except things that are good for someparticular purpose,--and this old gown was the best I could find tocover me up. It looks funny, but then the whole of it isfunny,--calf-feeding and all."
"Why do you have to make your own bread?" asked Dora. "Don'tPhoebe do that?"
"Oh, Phoebe isn't here now. She went away nearly a week ago, and I do allthe work. I went to Thorbury and engaged a woman to come here; but, asthat was three days ago and she has not come yet, I think she must havechanged her mind."
"But why did Phoebe leave you?" exclaimed Miss Bannister. "She ought tobe ashamed of herself, to leave you without any one to help you."
"Well," replied Miriam "she said she wasn't regularly employed, anyway,and there were plenty of cooks in the town that I could get, and that shewas obliged to go. You see, the colored church in Thorbury has just got anew minister, and he has to board somewhere; and as soon as Phoebe heardthat, she made up her mind to take a house and board him; and she did itbefore anybody else could get the chance. Mike, her husband, who worksfor us, talked to her and we talked to her, but it wasn't of any use. Ithink she considers it one of the greatest honors in the world to board aminister. Mike does not believe in that sort of business, but he saysthat Phoebe has always been in the habit of doing what she wants to, andhe is getting used to it."
"But it is impossible for you to do all the work," said Dora.
"Oh, well," replied Miriam, "some of it doesn't get done, and some of itI am helped with. Mike does ever so much; he makes the fires, and carriesthe heavy things, and sometimes even cooks. My brother Ralph helps, too,when there is anything he can do, which is not often; but just now theyare so busy with their hay that it is harder upon me than it was before.We have had soda biscuit and all that sort of thing, but I saw that Ralphwas getting tired of them; and to-day I thought I would try and make somereal bread,--though how it is going to turn out, I don't know."
"Come, let us go out and feed the calf," said Dora; "I really want to seehow you do it. I have come to make you a good long call, you must know;"and then she explained how her brother had left her, while he went on toattend to his business.
At this Miriam was much relieved. She had been thinking that perhaps shewould better go upstairs and take off that ridiculous silk dress, andentertain her visitor properly during the rest of her call; but if MissBannister was going to stay a good while, and if there was no coachmanoutside to see her and her train, there was no reason why she should notgo and feed the calf, and then come back and put herself into the propertrim for the reception of visitors. It seemed strange to her, but she waspositively sure that she would not have felt so much at ease with thishandsomely dressed young lady, if she herself had been attired in herbest clothes; but now they had met without its being possible for eitherMiss Bannister or herself to make any comparisons of attire. The old,draggled silk gown did not count one way or the other. It was simply acovering to keep one's clothes clean when one fed a calf. When theyshould return to the house, and she took off her old gown, she and hervisitor would be better acquainted, and their comparative opinions ofeach other would not depend so much on clothes. Miriam was accustomed tomaking philosophical reflections concerning her relations with the restof the world; and in regard to these relations she was at times verysensitive.
The Girl at Cobhurst Page 10