The Little Colonel's Knight Comes Riding

by Annie F. Johnston

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE ROYAL MANTLE

  THE week that followed was an unhappy one for Lloyd. Everywhere she wentit seemed to her that lilies-of-the-valley were thrust into her face. Onthe way to town people got on the car at nearly every station with greatbunches of them that they were carrying to offices or to their friends.The florists' windows were full of them. Men passed her on the streetwearing them on their coats, and even the little shop-girl, who waitedon her at the ribbon counter, had them stuck in her belt. When shecalled at Mrs. Bisbee's there was a box of them growing on herwindow-sill, and at home the whole house was permeated by the fragrancethat floated out from the great crystal bowl on the library table. Shecould not get away from them, and they kept Rob constantly in herthoughts.

  She told herself that she had never known anything quite so considerateand sweet as the way he had taken her answer. The more she thought ofhis quick putting aside of self in order that she might not be unhappy,the more it grieved her that he must be disappointed. She did not seehim again until the following Sunday. He came into church behind the oldJudge and Mrs. Moore, and Lloyd dropped her eyes to her hymn-book, herheart in such a flutter that it sent a queer little tingle all over her.She was afraid to meet his glance, for fear the consciousness of theirlast meeting would send the telltale red to her face.

  In the pew just behind the Moores' sat Katie Mallard with a girl fromFrankfort, who was visiting her, and as Rob took his seat Lloyd saw theguest's pretty eyes fixed inquiringly on him. Then she whisperedsomething to Katie behind her fan. Instantly the wonder crossed Lloyd'smind what the newcomer thought of him, and then she wondered how hewould appear to her if she could see him with the eyes of a stranger,without the intimate knowledge their long acquaintance had given her.

  She stole a glance in his direction, as the organist pulled out thestops and struck the opening chords of the voluntary. He was certainlygood to look at, and, she concluded, the veriest stranger, if he wereany judge at all of such things, must see at a glance that his was astrong character, that he would scorn to do a dishonourable thing andthat the years behind him were clean and honest. Then with a start sherealized that she had been holding him up to her silver yardstick, andthat he not only met its three requirements, but went far beyond. He hadfamily, social position, everything that her father had desired for hersave wealth, and she remembered how earnestly he had added, on thatsolemn watch-night, "but all these are nothing when weighed in thebalance with the love of an honest man."

  This greatest of all had been given her, but she could not acceptbecause--well, she didn't know why--but probably because it was just_Bobby_ who had offered it, and she couldn't think of _him_ as being theone the stars had destined for her--a boy that she had made mud pieswith. The old Hildegarde story had been good for her in many ways, butit had made the prince of her dreams a vague personality unlike any manshe had ever met. She had never put into words, even to herself, whatshe expected him to be like, but the shadowy image that her imaginationsometimes held up had no flaw like ordinary mortals, no human faultsand failings. And she would know him when he came, in some strange,mysterious way that needed no speech--his coming would be heralded likeHebe's: "_Before her ran an influence sweet, that bowed my heart likebarley bending._"

  The congregation rose for the Gloria and her eyes met Rob's. For oneinstant in the quick lighting of his face she had a revelation of allthat his "miracle of blossoming" meant to him, then he flashed her areassuring smile that seemed to say: "Never mind, old chum. We'll go onjust as we've always done."

  That she had interpreted it aright Lloyd knew when he came thatafternoon as usual and proposed a walk over past the Lindsey Cabin. Heseemed to have put himself into her place so fully that he understoodjust how she felt towards him; knew that it hurt her to have to withholdthe one great thing he desired, and that his friendship was still asdear to her as ever. So with a fine consideration that she was quick toappreciate, he came back to his old place so naturally, and as such amatter of course, that it put her at her ease with him and made itpossible for her to ignore the episode of the lilies as if it had neverbeen.

  May came with its locust blossoms and the birthday anniversary thatmade her "old and twenty." One of her gifts was a beautifulsaddle-horse, and she began her daily rides again. Several times whenRob could arrange to leave town earlier than usual he rode with her.

  Early in June Betty wrote that she was going up into the pine woods ofMaine for her vacation. She had been offered a position to teach an houra day in a sort of summer school, a girls' camp, and the position hadtoo many advantages to refuse. She would be back in time for a week orten days at The Locusts before the opening of the fall term at WarwickHall. Lloyd, who had looked forward to Betty's companionship for theentire summer, was sorely disappointed. The same day that that lettercame, Rob told her that he was going away for awhile. Some investmentshis father had made years ago had turned out to be worth investigating,and he was sure he could dispose of them advantageously. At any rate hewas going to Birmingham to try. He might be back in a week or two, andhe might be away the entire month of June. If Betty had been at homeprobably Lloyd would not have missed him at all, but because she had totake so many of her walks and rides alone, he was often in herthoughts.

  "I can't expect to have every summah as gay as last one was," she saidto herself one morning, as she busied herself about her room, changingthe arrangement of the pictures. She leaned over to dust the ones aboveher low bookcase. They ran in a long panel, just above it, the series ofgarden fancies that Leland Harcourt had suggested. It was on a Junemorning like this almost a year ago that she had posed for some of themin Doctor Shelby's old garden. It seemed at least four times as long asthat. She had grown so much older and wiser. She stooped to look againat the picture of Darby and Joan, under which was written, "Hand in handwhile our hair is gray." As she passed her duster lightly over the glasswhich covered the two dear old faces, she remembered that next week thisdevoted couple were to celebrate their golden wedding, and that she hadpromised to let them "borrow" her for a whole week before, to help withthe preparations.

  An hour later she was opening the gate that led to the old-fashioneddoor where the ugly little Chinese idol still kept guard and held itopen. She found Mrs. Shelby out on her cool upper piazza, behind themoon-vines, in a low sewing chair. She was stitching daintily away on abit of fine linen. "A wristband for one of Richard's shirts," sheexplained, after her first moments of delighted greeting. "And I'll goright on with it, for I'm making him a set all by hand for myanniversary present to him. He's always been so proud of my needleworkand had so much sentiment for the things I've made myself. I can't beginto tell you how glad I am to have you here. I've been sitting here allmorning thinking that if my little Alicia had lived what an interest shewould have taken in all my preparations. I keep forgetting that shewouldn't be a young girl like you. It's Alicia's granddaughter who wouldhave been your age."

  It took only a question or two to open the gates into this gentle oldsoul's happy yesterdays, and Lloyd listened and questioned, enjoying thequiet romance that she gathered bit by bit as one gathers the posies ofan old garden and clasps them into a full-rounded nosegay.

  "Aunt Alicia," she asked presently, "were you _suah_ at the time thatyou were making no mistake? Didn't you have any doubts or misgivingsabout the doctah's being the right one?"

  Mrs. Shelby laughed. "I must confess that I was a very silly girl whohad read so many sentimental stories that my head was full of dreams ofsome faultless being who should appear like the prince to the SleepingBeauty and change the whole world for me with a kiss. It was a long timebefore I could recognize him in the disguise of a poor country doctor.But I think we are apt to be that way about most things in life, mydear. Familiarity disguises the real worth of most of our blessings. Wedon't appreciate them till we are forced to miss them for awhile."

  "But what finally showed you?" persisted Lloyd. "What made you seethrough the disguise?"

/>   "Oh, my dear," laughed Mrs. Shelby again. "I couldn't explain a thinglike that! How do these moon-flowers know what calls them to open, orthe tide when it is time to rise? They _feel_ it, I suppose. They just_know_! That is the way it was with me."

  Lloyd came again next day prepared to spend the week. It would be hardto tell who enjoyed the visit the most. Gentle Aunt Alicia flutteredaround, hugging the sweet pretence to her heart that for this littlespace at least she had a real own daughter beside her, hers to call uponfor any service that the little Alicia would have gladly tendered. Theold doctor spent every moment he could spare from his office in thespacious screened porch leading from the kitchen, where all thepreparations were carried gaily forward.

  Here, after the invitations were sent, Lloyd spent her time. Under hersupervision the old satin wedding gown was brought out and aired andpressed and slightly altered. Its white folds had turned to a mellowivory in the years it had been laid away, just as the sentiment whichcherished it had grown deeper and richer with time. Once as Lloydintercepted a glance the old doctor exchanged with his wife as theybrought out these reminders of their far-away bridal, it made her feelthat she was touching with intimate fingers the heart of a sweet andtender old romance.

  From the yellowed pages of an old diary, she read a description of theoriginal wedding feast, and with an enthusiasm which went ahead of Mrs.Shelby's own prepared to copy it in every detail for the golden wedding.Jellies and cakes and salads, candied rose-leaves and rare spicedconfections that had graced the first were all reproduced for this greatoccasion. Lloyd beat eggs and shelled nuts and stirred icing with azest, while she planned the decorations and gave orders right and leftto a household who joyed to do her bidding.

  It was not until next to the last great day that Mrs. Shelby made thediscovery they had overlooked a certain gold-cake, whose recipe wasmissing. "And I don't suppose it's to be found anywhere in the Valley,"she mourned, "unless they've kept Phronie Moore's old cook-book. She wasone of my bridesmaids, and she made it with her own hands. It was one ofher own special recipes that she was noted for, and I wouldn't have lostit for anything."

  "You know the Judge must have kept it, Alicia," the old doctor gentlyinsisted. "You know the slightest thing she ever handled was sacred tohim, and it stands to reason that anything she'd taken so much pride in,and written every page with her own hands, as you say, would bepreserved. No doubt his daughter-in-law can find it for you without theleast trouble."

  "Even if she could I wouldn't want to borrow it," began Mrs. Shelby, butLloyd interrupted briskly. "I'll fix it all right for you, Aunt Alicia.I'll run right ovah to Oaklea as soon as Daphne gets this in the oven,and ask Mrs. Moore to let me copy the recipe for you."

  So that is how it came about that late that afternoon, Lloyd opened thegreat iron gate at Oaklea, and, following the familiar path under thegiant oaks, reached the house to which she had long been a stranger.

  Rob's dog, a fine Gordon setter, came out with a boisterous barking, butseeing who it was, leaped up, licking her hands and wagging a friendlywelcome. It seemed as if Rob ought to be somewhere near. Everythingabout the place suggested him. A familiar wide-brimmed gray hat lay onthe hall table, his riding-whip beside it. Up-stairs whither thecoloured maid led her, there were other reminders of him: Indian clubsand a tennis racquet in a corner of the hall, and a cabinet holding thevarious collections that had been his fads from time to time.

  "Come in here, dear," called Mrs. Moore from the depths of a sleepyhollow chair. "I'm too tired to move, so I knew you'd excuse my sendingdown for you to come up-stairs."

  It was Rob's room into which she was ushered. Mrs. Moore held out bothcordial hands without rising, and drew her down for a kiss.

  "Rob's coming home to-night," she explained, "so of course everythinghad to be swept and garnished for so grand an occasion, and I've nearlyused myself up making things fine in his honour."

  Her eyes filled with tears. "It's the first time he's been away sincethe dear 'Daddy' left us, and I had no idea four weeks could be such anage. I'm so excited and happy over his coming that I can scarcely talkabout it calmly. But you know what a dear good son my 'Robin Adair' isto me, so you can make allowances for a fond mother's foolishness."

  It was some moments before Lloyd had an opportunity to make known hererrand, apologizing profusely for putting her to any exertion when shewas so tired.

  "Oh, it's no trouble," answered Mrs. Moore. "I think I know right whereto put my hand on the book in father's room. I'll step across the halland see."

  Left to herself Lloyd gave a shy glance around the room, remembering thetime when it had been a familiar playground, but now she had anembarrassed sense of intruding. Many an hour she had spent romping in itwhile Mom Beck and Dinah gossiped by the fire. They had had theirmenagerie and lions' den in that curtained alcove. Here on the hard-woodfloor between the chimney-corner and the window they had chalked thering for their marble games. She leaned over and examined the floor ather feet with a smile. Those were undoubtedly the dents that theirtop-spinning had left. Mom Beck had told them at the time, no amount ofpolishing could ever wipe out such holes.

  The little tin soldiers that used to stand guard on the window-sill hadgiven place to other things now. The rocking-horse that had carried themsuch long journeys of adventure together had been stabled for years inthe attic at The Locusts. College trophies and pennants hung on thewalls. A rifle and a shotgun stood in the corner where a wooden gun anda toy sword used to stay. The low table and the picture books had givenplace to a massive desk and rows on rows of heavy volumes bound inleather.

  Then she recognized several things belonging to a later period. Therewas the shaving-paper case she made him the day he bought his firstrazor. She had been so proud of the monogram she burnt into the leather.It looked decidedly amateurish to her now. On the leather couch amongits many cushions was the pillow she had embroidered in his fraternitycolours and sent to him while he was at college.

  Between the front windows where the desk stood, and just above it, ranfour long rows of photographs set in narrow panels. Most of them weregroup pictures, the first dating back to the time of her firsthouse-party, and ending with some that had been taken the week ofEugenia's wedding. It was like a serial story of all their good times,and hastily changing her seat she leaned her elbows on the desk foranother look. But the nearer view revealed something that she had notseen at the first glance. _She_ was the central figure of every group.It was _her_ face that one noticed first, laughing back from everypicture.

  Abashed at her discovery, she scuttled back to her former seat, but notbefore her quick glance had showed her another photograph on the desk,in a silver frame. It was the last one Miss Marks had taken of her, inher commencement gown. She did not know that Rob had one of them. Shehad not given it to him.

  Mrs. Moore called out something to her from across the hall, and as sheturned to reply she faced still another picture of herself, this one inan old-fashioned silver locket swinging from the side of the mirror. Itwas the Princess Winsome with the dove. She was afraid to look anyfurther. She felt like an eavesdropper, for the very walls were callingout to her those words of Rob's that she had been trying for weeks toforget: "All my life seems to have been a growing up for this onething--to love you!"

  She sprang up with the impulse to leave the room, to get away from thesetelltale voices that she had no right to listen to. But just then Mrs.Moore came back with the book.

  "You can copy it here at the desk," she said, laying out a sheet ofpaper and Rob's big heavy-handled pen. She did not sit down while Lloydwrote the few lines, but stood with her hand on the back of the chairtill she had finished. Then she said with an amused smile, "I want toshow you something funny, Lloyd. I came across it this morning while Iwas looking over some old things of Rob's. It's your first piece ofneedlework. You made it over here one rainy day under Mom Beck'sinstructions. It's so long ago I suppose you've forgotten, but Iremember that Rob tried to make one too, and
stuck his fingers so oftenthat he cried and gave it up, and you gave him yours to comfort him."

  Opening a box which she brought from some drawer, she took out a sorrylittle pin-cushion. All puckered and drawn, its long straggling stitchesscarcely kept in place the cotton with which it was stuffed. The fadedblue silk was streaked and dirty as if it had been used for a foot-ballat some stage of its existence, and the pins that formed the crookedletter L had rusted in their places. But that it was accounted somethingprecious, one could see from the way in which it was tied and wrappedand carefully put away in this box by itself.

  It was a relief to Lloyd to find that Mrs. Moore did not attach anysignificance to the fact that Rob thus treasured her old gift. She onlylaughed and said he was like her in that regard. She couldn't bear tothrow away anything connected with his childhood. Only that morning shehad come across the little blue shoes that he had learned to walk in,and nearly cried over them, they recalled so plainly those happy days.

  "We are both full of sentiment for old things," she continued. "Ibelieve it will hurt him nearly as much as me if we decide to leaveOaklea and try to make a home somewhere else."

  "Leave Oaklea!" repeated Lloyd wonderingly.

  "Yes, Rob has had such a splendid opening offered him in Birmingham thathe has been strongly tempted to move there. Oh, I haven't told you thegood news, have I! He succeeded in selling that property to a bigcorporation that needed it to extend their manufactories, and was ableto get such a fine figure for it that now he can give up that horridgrind in the hardware business and go away in the fall for the last yearof his law course. He has studied so hard with his grandfather that thisone year is all that is necessary, and he will be the youngest lawyer tobe admitted to the Louisville bar when he gets through. His grandfatheris prouder of that possibility than anything else connected with theboy."

  "But about your going away," began Lloyd, anxiously, when she hadexpressed proper interest in the news. "Oaklea won't be the same placewith strangahs living heah. I can't imagine such a thing."

  "It isn't settled yet," Mrs. Moore answered cheerfully, and then rambledon to some other topic. But Lloyd heard no word of what she was saying.A sudden panic had seized her at the possibility of Rob's being takenout of her life for ever. The bare thought gave her a sinking of theheart and a sense of desolation such as a little child might have atbeing left alone in the dark. As she sat there trying to imagine how itwould seem never to see him again, such a revelation of her own selfcame to her that it sent the colour surging up in her face and set herheart to fluttering like a startled bird. She knew now for whom she hadbeen weaving all these years. This moment of self insight had torn awaythe disguise. _Her Prince had come into his kingdom!_

  A pause in Mrs. Moore's remarks brought the embarrassing knowledge thatshe had not heard the question whose reply was being waited for, and shestarted to stammer some incoherent excuse, when a shrill whistle frombelow made them both start. The familiar sound was followed by a joyousbarking from the Gordon setter, and then Rob's voice called gaily,"Where are you, mother? Six whole hours ahead of time, just to surpriseyou!"

  Mrs. Moore sprang up, all her weariness forgotten, and ran down-stairsto meet him. Lloyd stood hesitating in the middle of the floor. Shedidn't want to intrude on this meeting, yet she couldn't stay there inhis room, the room that babbled his secrets and reflected him on everyside like a mirror. Still hesitating, then going forward and haltingagain, she reached the landing midway on the stairs and saw him standingwith his arm around his mother, who had forgotten everything else savethe joy of his return.

  Then he glanced up and saw her standing there, one hand on the polishedrail, and her white dress trailing down the steps behind her. And thelate afternoon sunshine stealing through the amber medallion windowabove her rested with such soft touch on her fair hair that it seemedthat a halo of dim gold surrounded her. For an instant he thought hemust be dreaming, and stood gazing at her with a look of happy wonder asif this were only another vision of the dream-saint always enshrined inhis heart.

  But his next glance showed him that it was Lloyd in reality, for at hisadoring gaze she went all rosy red, and looked away in shy confusion.Stopping only for the briefest greeting, she hurried past him, sayingthat Aunt Alicia was waiting, and the wonderful cake wouldn't be done intime, that his mother would tell him about it, and she'd see him at thewedding to-morrow.

  What happened afterward was all a sort of golden haze to Lloyd. Theafternoon of the anniversary came and went. She greeted the guests whocame in a constant stream with their gifts and good wishes. She sang theold songs when they asked her to, she saw that every one was served tothe sumptuous refreshments in the dining-room; she played her role ofdaughter of the house to such perfection that Aunt Alicia caught herhand gratefully every time she passed, and followed her with lovingeyes as she flitted from room to room. She carried away the impressionthat it was all a beautiful sacred occasion, for the whole Valley baredits heart for that little space to show its love for the good doctor whofor half a century had been its standby in its times of stress andanxiety and bitter bereavement.

  Yet the only moment that stood out quite clearly was the one when Robpassed down the receiving line and stopped for a word about the perfectJune day, and how sweet the white-haired bride of fifty years looked inher old-time satin gown and white roses. Lloyd had answered gaily,fluttering her fan and adjusting the slender bracelet on her arm, in acareless way, but she had not looked up at him in her usualstraightforward fashion.

  The festivities were not extended into the evening. Because Aunt Aliciawas not strong the invitations were only for the afternoon, and bysundown the last guest had departed. Even Lloyd went, saying merrilythat she left them to begin their second honeymoon, but that she wouldbe back next morning to help put things in order.

  There was company at The Locusts that night, some business acquaintancesof Mr. Sherman's whom he had invited to dinner, and who were interestedin nothing but statistics about the South and other like stupid things.Tired by the day's exhausting demands, Lloyd left them when they wentinto the drawing-room, and stepping out on the porch sat down on thesteps. The moon was coming up, turning the locusts to silver.

  Presently she heard the sound of hoof-beats down the pike, and as shelistened a solitary horseman turned in at the gate. She was notexpecting Rob, but even at that distance she recognized the familiarslouch of his broad-brimmed hat and the erect way he sat in the saddle.And she knew before a word was spoken, the moment he dismounted andstood before her that he had not come for a call, only to bring somemessage. But he did not deliver it at once, only asked who the guestswere, and sat down beside her on the steps and talked about the trivialhappenings of the afternoon.

  Then a few minutes later she was walking along beside him under thelocusts. The moonlight lay in silver patches among the black shadows andthe air was heavy with the breath of roses. They stopped at the oldmeasuring tree, and Rob dropped the light tone in which he had beenjesting, and his face grew tense in his deep earnestness.

  "It's no use trying any longer, Lloyd," he said abruptly. "I can't giveyou up. The golden wedding to-day was too much for me." He took a stepnearer. "Dear, isn't there _anything_ I could do to make myself worthierin your sight? In the old days knights could go out and _prove_ theirvalour and fealty. Couldn't you give me some such chance? Set me a task?I'd go to the world's end to do it!"

  Lloyd did not answer for a moment. Leaning against the trunk of thegnarled locust, she stood idly tracing the outline of the four-leafclover that he had cut beside the date the last time they measuredthere. Then she said in a low tone:

  "Yes, you can bring me the diamond leaf that we've talked about sooften. By that token you'd prove that you were not only a true knight,but that all these yeahs you've been my prince in disguise."

  He smiled ruefully, thinking she had purposely set him a hopeless task.They had read the legend together, and he knew full well that Abdallahfound the diamond leaf of happines
s only in Paradise, but he took outhis watch and opened the back of the case, saying hopefully, "My luckycharm has never failed me yet, how long will you give me to find it?"

  She held out her hand for the little talisman, the four-leaf clover shehad given him so many years ago, but as he picked it up, the dry leavescrumbled to dust at his touch, and only one fell unbroken into heroutstretched palm.

  "My good omen has failed me when I needed it most!" he said bitterly,but Lloyd answered shyly, "No, don't you see? This is the _fo'th_ leaf.You have brought me what I asked for."

  For an instant he stood there, an incredulous joy dawning in his face,then grasping the little hand that closed over the clover, he askedwonderingly, "And my unworthy shoulders really fit your royal mantle_now_, dear? You are sure?"

  She looked up at him then, not a doubt in her trusting face as sheslowly made answer, "Yes, Rob, 'as the falcon's feathahs fit thefalcon!'"

  And then the old locusts, looking down on the ending of a story thatthey had watched from its beginning, stopped their swaying for a space,with a soft "Sh!" each to each as one lays finger on lip in holyplaces.