Part 4 (1/2)
Peggy gave a startled glance at the sand, where telltale traces of her cousin's presence were plainly in evidence. From the entry door to the kitchen were tracks of snow, and on the sand in the kitchen there were wet spots where the snow had melted. Clearly they must be obliterated.
”I'll fix the floor, Sukey,” she said, beginning to brush up the wet sand. ”Sally, bring some dry sand from the box, please, and we will have this fixed in a jiffy. Thee must not expect thy floor to keep just so, Sukey, when there is so much company.”
Presently, the floor resanded and the entry way swept, the two girls started for the sitting-room. Peggy was thoughtful and Sally too, for the nonce, was silent.
”Clifford will be all right where he is for a short time,” mused Peggy. ”If he has to stay there for any length of time, though, 'twill be most uncomfortable. I wonder if it would not be best to consult with mother? Perchance she could think of some way out of the difficulty.”
She brightened at the thought, and just then Sally opened the door of the sitting-room. Mr. Owen was in his great easy chair with his wife, and Mrs. Johnson sitting near, interested listeners to some narrative.
The young people had withdrawn to the far side of the apartment and formed a little group by themselves, of which Betty was the center.
She was giving an animated account of a recent a.s.sembly, and the youths were so absorbed in the recital that they did not hear the two girls approach. A smile came to Peggy's lips.
”Why, Betty is in truth a belle, Sally,” she whispered. ”How pretty she hath grown! That gown doth indeed become her as thee said. It may be that we tease her too much, for she is of a certainty entertaining.
I have never seen Fairfax so interested.”
Betty caught sight of them before Sally could reply.
”Have ye come at last?” she cried. ”I thought thee was never coming, Peggy. It is not treating us right to leave us alone so long. And what does thee think? Sally talks of going home. Has she told thee?”
”Oh, Sally!” uttered Peggy reproachfully. ”Thee can't mean it? Why, mother and I expect all of you to stay the night. Beside, 'tis too cold for thee to go out.”
”The very thing I told her,” exclaimed Betty. ”And she said,” and a note of indignation quavered into Betty's voice, ”that if it were warm enough to need a fan it was warm enough to go out.”
”But, Betty, why do you use a fan in such weather?” questioned Robert Dale laughing. ”Here it is so cold that we can scarce keep warm, and Mistress Owen hath called Sukey twice to attend the fire. Yet there you sit and wave that fan. I have wished to ask you about it all day.”
”Why, Robert, does thee not know that a fan is to a woman what a gun is to a soldier--a weapon of offense and of defense?” explained Betty airily. ”When one is conversing should a pause occur in the conversation one may offset any embarra.s.sment by fanning slowly. So!”
She plied the fan to and fro as she explained.
”And do you need it often, Betty?” he asked slyly.
”Now that is mean, Robert. I would not have thought it of thee,”
pouted Betty. ”I shall tell no more secrets anent the use of the fan, sir. Thee would not insinuate anything so ungallant, would thee, Captain Johnson?”
”No,” answered the youth blus.h.i.+ng deeply at being so appealed to, and speaking with difficulty. ”I would not, Mistress Betty. You--you mean--there would be no pause, would there?” He stopped short as a burst of merriment in which even Betty joined broke from the others.
”What did I say?” he asked in alarm. ”What is it?”
At this moment there came the sound of many feet in the hallway, and Sukey's voice was heard protesting loudly:
”Dar ain't n.o.body heah but de fambly, Mistah Officah. De fambly and der company. 'Tain't no mannah ob use disturbin' dem. Der ain't no Britisher 'roun' heah nohow.”
”Why, what does this mean?” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Owen, rising and going to the door. ”What is the matter, Sukey?” he asked as he threw it open.
CHAPTER IV
THE SEARCH
”Like bloodhounds now they search me out,-- Hark, to the whistle and the shout!
If farther through the wilds I go, I only fall upon the foe; I'll couch me here till evening gray, Then darkling try my dangerous way.”