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The Mettle of the Pasture

32 of 69

"Will he be there?" she asked. "I did not tell him I was coming, but he heard me say I should be there at half-past ten o'clock. It is his duty to notice my least remark." When she reached her destination, the old town library, she mounted the lowest step and glanced rather guiltily up and down the street. Three ladies were going up and two men were going down: no one was coming toward Marguerite. "Now, why is he not here? He shall be punished for this." She paced slowly backward and forward yet a little while. Then she started resolutely in the direction of a street where most of the law offices were situated. Turning a corner, she came full upon Judge, Morris. "Ah, good morning, good morning," he cried, putting his gold-headed cane under his arm and holding out both hands. "Where did you sleep last night? On rose leaves?" "I was in grandmother's bed when I left off," said Marguerite, looking up at the rim of her hat. "And where were you when you began again?" "Still in grandmother's bed. I think I must have been there all the time. I know all about your old Blackstone and all that kind of thing," she continued, glancing at a yellow book under his arm and speaking with a threat as though he had adjudged her ignorant. "Ah, then you will make a good lawyer's wife." "I supposed I'd make a good wife of any kind. Are you coming to my ball?" "Well, you know I am too old to make engagements far ahead. But I expect to be there. If I am not, my ghost shall attend." "How shall I recognize it? Does it dance? I don't want to mistake it for Barbee." "Barbee shall not come if I can keep him at home." "And why, please?" "I am afraid he is falling in love with you." "But why shouldn't he?" "I don't wish my nephew to be flirted." "But how do you know I'd flirt him?" "Ah, I knew your mother when she was young and your grandmother when she was young: you're all alike." "We, are so glad we are," said Marguerite, as she danced away from him under her parasol. Farther down the street she met Professor Hardage. "I know all about your old Odyssey--your old Horace and all those things," she said threateningly. "I am not as ignorant as you think." "I wish Horace had known you." "Would it have been nice?" "He might have written an ode _Ad Margaritam_ instead of _Ad Lalagem_." "Then I might have been able to read it," she said. "In school I couldn't read the other one. But you mustn't think that I did not read a great deal of Latin. The professor used to say that I read my Latin b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l-l-y, but that I didn't get much English out of it. I told him I got as much English out of it as the Romans did, and that they certainly ought to have known what it was meant for." "That must have taught him a lesson!" "Oh, he said I'd do: I was called the girl who read Latin perfectly, regardless of English. And, then, I won a prize for an essay on the three most important things that the United States has contributed to the civilizations of the Old World. I said they were tobacco, wild turkeys and idle curiosity. Of course every one knew about tobacco and turkeys; but wasn't it clever of me to think of idle curiosity? Now, wasn't it? I made a long list of things and then I selected these from my list." "I'd like to know what the other things were!" "Oh, I've forgotten now! But they were very important at the time. Are you coming to my ball?" "I hope to come." "And is Miss Anna coming?" "Miss Anna is coming. She is coming as a man; and she is going to bring a lady." "How is she going to dress as a man?" said Marguerite, as she danced away from him under her parasol. She strolled slowly on until she reached the street of justice and the jail; turning into this, she passed up the side opposite the law offices. Her parasol rested far back on one shoulder; to any lateral observer there could have been no mistake regarding the face in front of it. She passed through a group of firemen sitting in their shirtsleeves in front of the engine-house, disappeared around the corner, and went to a confectioner's. Presently she reentered the street, and this time walked along the side where the law offices were grouped. She disappeared around the corner and entered a dry-goods store. A few moments later she reentered the street for the third and last time. Just as she passed a certain law office, she dropped her packages. No one came out to pick them up. Marguerite did this herself--very slowly. Still no one appeared. She gave three sharp little raps on the woodwork of the door. From the rear office a red head was thrust suddenly out like a surprised woodpecker's. Barbee hurried to the entrance and looked up the street. He saw a good many people. He looked down the street and noticed a parasol moving away. "I supposed you were in the courthouse," she said, glancing at him with surprise. "Haven't you any cases?" "One," he answered, "a case of life and death." "You need not walk against me, Barbee; I am not a vine to need propping. And you need not walk with me. I am quite used to walking alone: my nurse taught me years ago." "But now you have to learn _not_ to walk alone, Marguerite." "It will be very difficult." "It will be easy when the right man steps forward: am I the right man?" "I am going to the library. Good morning." "So am I going to the library." "Aren't all your authorities in your office?" "All except one." They turned into the quiet shady street: they were not the first to do this. When they reached the steps, Marguerite sank down. "Why do I get so tired when I walk with you, Barbee? You exhaust me _very_ rapidly." He sat down not very near her, but soon edged a little closer. Marguerite leaned over and looked intently at his big, thin ear. "What a lovely red your ear is, seen against a clear sky. It would make a beautiful lamp-shade." "You may have both of them--and all the fixtures--solid brass--an antique some day." He edged a little closer. Marguerite coughed and pointed across the street: "Aren't those trees beautiful?" "Oh, don't talk to me about trees! What do I care about _wood_! You're the tree that I want to dig up, and take home, and plant, and live under, and be buried by." "That's a great deal--all in one sentence."

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