Part 28 (1/2)

”Then you don't know him as well as I do.”

”I haven't the chance. He speaks a deal more to you than he do to me.”

”Well, Jael, you needn't snub me, because you are going with Mr.

Little.”

As a bone, put between two friendly dogs, causes a growl, so when a handsome young man enters on the scene, I have seen young women lose a little of that unmitigated sweetness which marked them a moment before.

With Grace, however, to snap and to repent generally followed in a breath. ”I hope you will have a happy day, dear, as happy as you deserve.” She then went to kiss her, but gave her cheek, instead of her lips. ”There,” said she, in rather a flurried way, ”don't keep Mr.

Little waiting.”

Just as they drove off, Grace came to the window, after a slight irresolution, and kissed her hand to them enchantingly; at which a sudden flood of rapture rushed through Little's heart, and flushed his cheek, and fired his dark eye; Grace caught its flash full in hers, and instinctively retired a step. They were off.

”How bright and happy they look,” said she to her father. And no wonder.

She sat down, and, somehow, she felt singularly dull and lonely.

Then she dressed for church, languidly. Then she went to church.

By-and-by she came back from church.

Then she sat down, in her bonnet, and felt alone in the world, and sad; and at last she found herself quietly crying, as young ladies will sometimes, without any visible cause.

Then she asked herself what on earth she was crying about, and herself told her she was a little hysterical fool, and wanted a good beating.

Then she plucked up spirit, and dried her eyes. Then she took to yawning, and said Sunday was a dull day, and life itself rather a wearisome thing.

Then a servant came to inquire if she was at home.

”What, on Sunday? Of course not. Who is it?”

”Mr. Coventry, miss.”

”I am at home.”

CHAPTER X.

People that met Jael Dence and Henry Little driving to Cairnhope were struck with their faces; his so dark, hers so fair, and both so handsome: but the woman's lit up with lively delight, the man's clouded and sorrowful, and his brow knit with care. This very day he must take the lock off Cairnhope old church, in spite of his Uncle Raby. He had got the requisite tools with him hidden in the gig; but, even should he succeed, it was but the first step of a difficult and, perhaps, dangerous enterprise; and he was entering on it all with a heart no longer buoyed by hopeful love. But for his pledge to Mr. Cheetham he could hardly have persisted in the struggle.

As for Jael Dence, she had no great reason to be happy either: the man she loved loved another. Still he was kind to HER, and they belonged to the same cla.s.s; she had a chance, and gleams of hope. And, after all, the future was uncertain, but the present certain: she had him to herself for the day. She was close to him--so close, that she could feel him--and he was driving her out, and to those who loved her: she basked in the present delight, and looked as if she was being taken to heaven by an angel, instead of driving to Cairnhope by a gloomy young man, whom the pa.s.sers-by envied, and wondered at his good luck in having such a companion. She talked to him, and got the short answers of an absent man. But she continued to make her little remarks occasionally, and, ere they reached Cairnhope, he found himself somehow soothed by her s.e.x, her beauty, and her mellow, kindly voice.

As they drove up to the farm-house, he told her to hide her face a moment, for they didn't know who it was.

Martha ran out. ”Y'are welcome, y'are welcome; and so is your--Eh! Why it's our Jael. 'Tis no avail to hide thy face, thou jade; I know every bit o' thee.” And Patty had her out of the gig in a moment, and there was a cuddling match it did one good to see.

Henry perked up for a moment and offered a suggestion. ”Some of that ought to come my way, for bringing her here.”

”Oh, you'll get enough o' that fun before you die,” said Patty. ”Now come you in; the carter's boy will take the horse.”