by B. M. Bower
CHAPTER 4. Beatrice Learns a New Language.
"D'you want to see the boys work a bunch of cattle, Trix?" Dick saidto her, when she came down to where he was leaning against a high boardfence, waiting for her.
"'Deed I do, Dicky--only I've no idea what you mean."
"The boys are going to cut out some cattle we've contracted to thegovernment--for the Indians, you know. They're holding the bunch over inDry Coulee; it's only three or four miles. I've got to go over and seethe foreman, and I thought maybe you'd like to go along."
"There's nothing I can think of that I would like better. Won't it befine, Sir Redmond?"
Sir Redmond did not say whether he thought it would be fine or not. Hestill had the white streak around his mouth, and he went through thegate and on to the house without a word--which was undoubtedly arude thing to do. Sir Redmond was not often rude. Dick watched himspeculatively until he was beyond hearing them. Then, "What have youdone to milord, Trix?" he wanted to know.
"Nothing," said Beatrice.
"Well," Dick said, with decision, "he looks to me like a man that hasbeen turned down--hard. I can tell by the back of his neck."
This struck Beatrice, and she began to study the retreating neck ofher suitor. "I can't see any difference," she announced, after a briefscrutiny.
"It's rather sunburned and thick."
"I'll gamble his mind is a jumble of good English oaths--with maybe asprinkling of Boer maledictions. What did you do?"
"Nothing--unless, perhaps, he objects to being disciplined a bit. But Ialso object to being badgered into matrimony--even with Sir Redmond."
"Even with Sir Redmond!" Dick whistled. "He's 'It,' then, is he?"
Beatrice had nothing to say. She walked beside Dick and looked at theground before her.
"He doesn't seem a bad sort, sis, and the title will be nice to havein the family, if one cares for such things. Mother does. She wasdisappointed, I take it, that Wiltmar was a younger son."
"Yes, she was. She used to think that Sir Redmond might get killed downthere fighting the Boers, and then Wiltmar would be next in line. But hedidn't, and it was Wiltmar who went first. And now oh, it's humiliating,Dick! To be thrown at a man's head--" Tears were not far from her voicejust then.
"I can see she wants you to nab the title. Well, sis, if you don't carefor the man--"
"I never said I didn't care for him. But I just can't treat himdecently, with mama dinning that title in my ears day and night. I wishthere wasn't any title. Oh, it's abominable! Things have come to thatpoint where an American girl with money is not supposed to care foran Englishman, no matter how nice he may be, if he has a title, or theprospect of one. Every one laughs and thinks it's the title she wants;they'd think it of me, and they'd say it. They would say BeatriceLansell took her half-million and bought her a lord. And, after a while,perhaps Sir Redmond himself would half-believe it--and I couldn't bearthat! And so I am--unbearably flippant and--I should think he'd hateme!"
"So you reversed the natural order of things, and refused him on accountof the title?" Dick grinned surreptitiously.
"No, I didn't--not quite. I'm afraid he's dreadfully angry with me,though. I do wish he wasn't such a dear."
"You're the same old Trix. You've got to be held back from the trailyou're supposed to take, or you won't travel it; you'll bolt the otherway. If everybody got together and fought the notion, you would probablyelope with milord inside a week. Mother means well, but she isn't on toher job a little bit. She ought to turn up her nose at the title."
"No fear of that! I've had it before my eyes till I hate the verythought of it. I--I wish I could hate him." Beatrice sighed deeply, andgave her hand to Dorman, who scurried up to her.
"I'll have the horses saddled right away," said Dick, and left them.
"Where you going, Be'trice? You going to ride a horse? I want to,awf'lly."
"I'm afraid you can't, honey; it's too far." Beatrice pushed a yellowcurl away from his eyes with tender, womanly solicitude.
"Auntie won't care, 'cause I'm a bother. Auntie says she's goin' to sendfor Parks. I don't want Parks; 'sides, Parks is sick. I want a pony, andsome ledder towsers wis fringes down 'em, and I want some little wheelson my feet. Mr. Cam'ron says I do need some little wheels, Be'trice."
"Did he, honey?"
"Yes, he did. I like Mr. Cam'ron, Be'trice; he let me ride his big, highpony. He's a berry good pony. He shaked hands wis me, Be'trice--he trulydid."
"Did he, hon?" Beatrice, I am sorry to say, was not listening. Shewas wondering if Sir Redmond was really angry with her--too angry, forinstance, to go over where the cattle were. He really ought to go, forhe had come West in the interest of the Eastern stockholders in theNorthern Pool, to investigate the actual details of the work. He surelywould not miss this opportunity, Beatrice thought. And she hoped he wasnot angry.
"Yes, he truly did. Mr. Cam'ron interduced us, Be'trice. He said,'Redcloud, dis is Master Dorman Hayes. Shake hands wis my frien'Dorman.' And he put up his front hand, Be'trice, and nod his head, andI shaked his hand. I dess love that big, high pony, Be'trice. Can I buyhim, Be'trice?"
"Maybe, kiddie."
"Can I buy him wis my six shiny pennies, Be'trice?"
"Maybe."
"Mr. Cam'ron lives right over that hill, Be'trice. He told me."
"Did he, hon?"
"Yes, he did. He 'vited me over, Be'trice. He's my friend, and I've gotto buy my big, high pony. I'll let you shake hands wis him, Be'trice.I'll interduce him to you. And I'll let you ride on his back, Be'trice.Do you want to ride on his back?"
"Yes, honey."
Before Beatrice had time to commit herself they reached the house, andshe let go Dorman's hand and hurried away to get into her riding-habit.
Dorman straightway went to find his six precious, shiny pennies, whichBeatrice had painstakingly scoured with silver polish one day to pleasethe little tyrant, and which increased their value many times--so manytimes, in fact, that he hid them every night in fear of burglars. Sincehe concealed them each time in a different place, he was obliged toransack his auntie's room every morning, to the great disturbance ofMartha, the maid, who was an order-loving person.
Martha appeared just when he had triumphantly pounced upon his treasurerolled up in the strings of his aunt's chiffon opera-bonnet.
"Mercy upon us, Master Dorman! Whatever have you been doing?"
"I want my shiny pennies," said the young gentleman, composedlyunwinding the roll, "to buy my big, high pony."
"Naughty, naughty boy, to muss my lady's fine bonnet like that! Look atthings scattered over the floor, and my lady's fine handkerchiefs andgloves--" Martha stopped and meditated whether she might dare to shakehim.
Dorman was laboriously counting his wealth, with much wrinkling ofstubby nose and lifting of eyebrows. Having satisfied himself that theywere really all there, he deigned to look around, with a fine masculinedisdain of woman's finery.
"Oh, dose old things!" he sniffed. "I always fordet where I put my shinypennies. Robbers might find them if I put them easy places. I'm going tobuy my big, high pony, and you can't shake his hand a bit, Martha."
"Well, I'm sure I don't want to!" Martha snapped back at him, and wentdown on all fours to gather up the things he had thrown down. "WhateverParks was thinking of, to go and get fever, when she was the only onethat could manage you, I don't know! And me picking up after you tillI'm fair sick!"
"I'm glad you is sick," he retorted unfeelingly, and backed to the door."I hopes you get sicker so your stummit makes you hurt. You can't rideon my big, high pony."
"Get along with you and your high pony!" cried the exasperated Martha,threatening with a hairbrush. Dorman, his six shiny pennies held fast inhis damp little fist, fled down the stairs and out into the sunlight.
Dick and Beatrice were just ready to ride away from the porch. "I wantto go wis you, Uncle Dick." Dorman had followed the lead of Beatrice,his divinity; he refused to say Richard, though grandmama did
object tonicknames.
"Up you go, son. You'll be a cow-puncher yourself one of these days.I'll not let him fall, and this horse is gentle." This last to satisfyDorman's aunt, who wavered between anxiety and relief.
"You may ride to the gate, Dorman, and then you'll have to hop downand run back to your auntie and grandma. We're going too far for youto-day." Dick gave him the reins to hold, and let the horse walk toprolong the joy of it.
Dorman held to the horn with one hand, to the reins with the other, andlet his small body swing forward and back with the motion of the horse,in exaggerated imitation of his friend, Mr. Cameron. At the gate heallowed himself to be set down without protest, smiled importantlythrough the bars, and thrust his arm through as far as it would reach,that he might wave good-by. And his divinity smiled back at him, andthrew him a kiss, which pleased him mightily.
"You must have hurt milord's feelings pretty bad," Dick remarked. "Icouldn't get him to come. He had to write a letter first, he said."
"I wish, Dick," Beatrice answered, a bit petulantly, "you would stopcalling him milord."
"Milord's a good name," Dick contended. "It's bad enough to 'Sir' him tohis face; I can't do it behind his back, Trix. We're not used to fancytitles out here, and they don't fit the country, anyhow. I'm likeyou--I'd think a lot more of him if he was just a plain, everydayAmerican, so I could get acquainted enough to call him 'Red Hayes.' I'dlike him a whole lot better."
Beatrice was in no mood for an argument--on that subject, at least.She let Rex out and raced over the prairie at a gait which would havegreatly shocked her mother, who could not understand why Beatrice wasnot content to drive sedately about in the carriage with the rest ofthem.
When they reached the round-up Keith Cameron left the bunch and rode outto meet them, and Dick promptly shuffled responsibility for his sister'sentertainment to the square shoulders of his neighbor.
"Trix wants to wise up on the cattle business, Keith. I'll just turn herover to you for a-while, and let you answer her questions; I can't, halfthe time. I want to look through the bunch a little."
Keith's face spoke gratitude, and spoke it plainly. The face of Beatricewas frankly inattentive. She was watching the restless, moving mass ofred backs and glistening horns, with horsemen weaving in and out amongthem in what looked to her a perfectly aimless fashion--until one wouldwheel and dart out into the open, always with a fleeing animal lumberingbefore. Other horsemen would meet him and take up the chase, and hewould turn and ride leisurely back into the haze and confusion. It waslike a kaleidoscope, for the scene shifted constantly and was neverquite the same.
Keith, secure in her absorption, slid sidewise in the saddle and studiedher face, knowing all the while that he was simply storing up troublefor himself. But it is not given a man to flee human nature, and thefellow who could sit calmly beside Beatrice and not stare at her ifthe opportunity offered must certainly have the blood of a fish in hisveins. I will tell you why.
Beatrice was tall, and she was slim, and round, and tempting, with themost tantalizing curves ever built to torment a man. Her hair was softand brown, and it waved up from the nape of her neck without thoseshort, straggling locks and thin growth at the edge which mar so manyfeminine heads; and the sharp contrast of shimmery brown against ivorywhite was simply irresistible. Had her face been less full of charm,Keith might have been content to gaze and gaze at that lovely hair line.As it was, his eyes wandered to her brows, also distinctly marked, asthough outlined first with a pencil in the fingers of an artist whounderstood. And there were her lashes, dark and long, and curled up atthe ends; and her cheek, with its changing, come-and-go coloring; hermouth, with its upper lip creased deeply in the middle--so deeply that abit more would have been a defect--and with an odd little dimple at onecorner; luckily, it was on the side toward him, so that he might lookat it all he wanted to for once; for it was always there, only growingdeeper and wickeder when she spoke or laughed. He could not see hereyes, for they were turned away, but he knew quite well the color; hehad settled that point when he looked up from coiling his rope the dayshe came. They were big, baffling, blue-brown eyes, the like of which hehad never seen before in his life--and he had thought he had seenevery color and every shade under the sun. Thinking of them and theirwonderful deeps and shadows, he got hungry for a sight of them. Andsuddenly she turned to ask a question, and found him staring at her, andsurprised a look in his eyes he did not know was there.
For ten pulse-beats they stared, and the cheeks of Beatrice grew red ashealthy young blood could paint them; Keith's were the same, only thathis blood showed darkly through the tan. What question had been on hertongue she forgot to ask. Indeed, for the time, I think she forgotthe whole English language, and every other--but the strange, wordlesslanguage of Keith's clear eyes.
And then it was gone, and Keith was looking away, and chewing acorner of his lip till it hurt. His horse backed restlessly from thetight-gripped rein, and Keith was guilty of kicking him with his spur,which did not better matters. Redcloud snorted and shook his outragedhead, and Keith came to himself and eased the rein, and spokeremorseful, soothing words that somehow clung long in the memory ofBeatrice.
Just after that Dick galloped up, his elbows flapping like the wings ofa frightened hen.
"Well, I suppose you could run a cow outfit all by yourself, with theknowledge you've got from Keith," he greeted, and two people became evenmore embarrassed than before. If Dick noticed anything, he must havebeen a wise young man, for he gave no sign.
But Beatrice had not queened it in her set, three seasons, for nothing,even if she was capable of being confused by a sweet, new language in aman's eyes. She answered Dick quietly.
"I've been so busy watching it all that I haven't had time to ask manyquestions, as Mr. Cameron can testify. It's like a game, and it's veryfascinating--and dusty. I wonder if I might ride in among them, Dick?"
"Better not, sis. It isn't as much fun as it looks, and you can see moreout here. There comes milord; he must have changed his mind about theletter."
Beatrice did not look around. To see her, you would swear she had setherself the task of making an accurate count of noses in that seethingmass of raw beef below her. After a minute she ventured to glancefurtively at Keith, and, finding his eyes turned her way, blushed againand called herself an idiot. After that, she straightened in the saddle,and became the self-poised Miss Lansell, of New York.
Keith rode away to the far side of the herd, out of temptation; queera man never runs from a woman until it is too late to be a particle ofuse. Keith simply changed his point of view, and watched his Heart'sDesire from afar.