Great Britain -- History -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"Nay, sir," interposed Barbara, somewhat puzzled how to meet such
unexpected humility. "If you will indeed be so generous——"
"It will be the best thing we can do," interposed Captain Protheroe.
"And to-morrow, perchance, you can lend us mounts as far as Durford."
"Willingly, willingly," was the eager reply.
"Then let us be off. Where is Nannie?"
"I’m here, Master Miles," answered the old lady, calmly entering from
the adjoining room where she had been soothing the terror of the
bed-ridden owner of the cottage.
"Ah! that’s well. We must be moving. Set the old fellow’s mind at ease
and come along. You shall come back to him to-morrow, an you choose."
All was quiet when they came out of the cottage.
"Straight along that path, Miles!" cried Captain Harrington eagerly,
pointing out the direction; "you can’t miss the way. I will escort the
lady."
"Not so," answered Captain Protheroe resolutely, putting Barbara’s cloak
about her; "I will escort Mistress Barbara. You can best lead the way."
Captain Harrington glanced for a moment at the speaker, then with a deep
sigh, and a mournful shake of the head, he shrugged his shoulders, and
taking Ralph’s arm, turned along the path towards the village.
"Alack!" he muttered to himself, "Alack! The early bird!"
"Mistress Barbara," pleaded Captain Protheroe, as they followed the
others along the narrow way, "Mistress Barbara, you have not said one
word to me since I arrived."
"I had nothing to say," she answered, smiling. Then she added softly,
"I knew you would come."
And with that he strove to be content.
*CHAPTER XXIII*
Next day they rode merrily to Durford. At early morning they set out,
when the white mist curled in the valley, and the russet trees,
sun-kissed on the hills, gleamed like fiery tongues of flame above a
silver sea; through the bright noonday they rode, when the mists like
evil witches of the night had vanished before the sunbeams, the broad
earth lay smiling up into the deep blue heavens, and the myriad
creatures of earth and sky raised their tiny voices in harmonious _Te
Deum_ for the glory of life. Through a world of joy and sunshine they
rode, until early in the afternoon they climbed the last hill and saw in
the valley below the red-roofed cottages of the village and the tall
grey chimneys of the Manor House hiding among the burnished leaves.
And from that point their ride was a royal progress.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account