Volume Ii Part 33 (1/2)
Having thus, with one sweep of the scythe, cut down a little of all around her, she led the way towards the cottage, accepting the arm of General Conyers with an antiquated grace that sorely tried Hunter's good manners not to smile at.
”I know what you are looking at, what you are thinking of, Barrington,”
said Withering, as he saw the other stand a moment gazing at the landscape on the opposite side of the river.
”I don't think you do, Tom,” said he, smiling.
”You were thinking of buying that mountain yonder. You were saying to yourself, 'I 'll be the owner of that beech wood before I'm a month older!'”
”Upon my life, you 're right! though I have n't the remotest notion of how you guessed it. The old fellow that owns it shall name his own terms to-morrow morning. Here come the girls, and they 've got Tom Dill with them. How the fellow rows! and Fifine is laughing away at Conyers's attempt to keep the boat straight. Look at Hunter, too; he 's off to meet them. Is he 'going in' for the great heiress prize, eh, Tom?” said he, with a knowing smile.
Though Hunter a.s.sisted the ladies to land with becoming gallantry, he did not offer his arm to Josephine, but dropped behind, where Tom Dill brought up the rear with his sister.
”We have no confidences that you may not listen to,” said Polly, as she saw that he hesitated as to joining them. ”Tom, indeed, has been telling of yourself, and you may not care to hear your own praises.”
”If they come from _you_, I 'm all ears for them.”
”Isn't that pretty, Tom? Did you ever hear any one ask more candidly for--no, not flattery--what is it to be called?”
Tom, however, could not answer, for he had stopped to shake hands with Darby, whose ”May I never!” had just arrested him.
”What an honest, fine-hearted fellow it is!” said Hunter, as they moved on, leaving Tom behind.
”But if _you_ had n't found it out, who would have known, or who acknowledged it? _I_ know--for he has told me--all you have been to him.”
”Pooh, pooh! nothing; less than nothing. He owes all that he is to himself. He is one of those fellows who, once they get into the right groove in life, are sure to go ahead. Not even _you_ could make a doctor of him. Nature made him a soldier.”
Polly blushed slightly at the compliment to those teachings she believed a secret, and he went on,--
”What has the world been doing here since I left?”
”Pretty much what it did while you were here. It looked after its turnips and asparagus, took care of its young calves, fattened its chickens, grumbled at the dear-ness of everything, and wondered when Dr.
Buck would preach a new sermon.”
”No deaths,--no marriages?”
”None. There was only one candidate for both, and he has done neither,--Major M'Cormick.”
”Confound that old fellow! I had forgotten him. Do you remember the last day I saw you here? We were in the garden, talking, as we believed, without witnesses. Well, _he_ overheard us. He heard every word we said, and a good deal more that we did not say.”
”Yes; so he informed me, a few days after.”
”You don't mean to say that he had the impertinence--”
”The frankness, General,--the charming candor,--to tell me that I was a very clever girl, and not to be discouraged by one failure or two; that with time and perseverance--I think he said perseverance--some one was sure to take a fancy to me: he might not, perhaps, be handsome, possibly not very young; his temper, too, might chance to be more tart than was pleasant; in a word, he drew such a picture that I had to stop him short, and ask was he making me a proposal? He has never spoken to me since!”
”I feel as if I could break his neck,” muttered Hunter, below his breath; then added, ”Do you remember that I asked leave to write to you once,--only once?”
”Yes, I remember it.”
”And you would not answer me. You shook your head, as though to say the permission would be of no service to me; that I might write, but, you understand, that it would only be to indulge in a delusion--”