The Last of the Foresters Part 11

This young lady was Redbud.

CHAPTER XI.

HOW VERTY DISCOVERED IN HIMSELF A GREAT FONDNESS FOR APPLES.

Verty threw himself from his horse, and ran forward toward Redbud with an expression of so much joy, that even Longears perceived it; and, in the excess of his satisfaction, reared up on Mr. Jinks, claiming his sympathy.

Mr. Jinks brushed his clothes, and protested, frowning. Verty did not hear him, however--he was at the gate with Redbud.

"Oh!" he cried, "how glad I am to see you! What in the world made you come here, Redbud, and stay away from me so long!"

Redbud blushed, and murmured something.

"Never mind," said Verty; "I'm so glad to see you, that I won't quarrel."

And he pressed the little hand which he held with such ardor, that Redbud blushed more than ever.

But she had scarcely uttered a word--scarcely smiled on him. What did it mean? Poor Verty's face began to be overclouded.

What did it mean. That is not a very difficult question to us, however much it might have puzzled Verty. It meant that Miss Lavinia had suggested to Redbud the impropriety of remaining on terms of cordiality and friends.h.i.+p with a young gentleman, who, after the fas.h.i.+on of all youths, in all ages of the world, was desperately anxious to become some young lady's husband. It meant that the "lecture" of this great female philosopher had produced its effect,--that Miss Redbud had waked to a consciousness of the fact, that she was a "young lady," and that her demeanor toward Verty was improper.

Before, she had thought that there was no great impropriety in running to meet the forest boy, with whom she had played for years, and whom she knew so very well. Now this was changed. Cousin Lavinia saw a decided impropriety in her meeting Verty with a bright smile, and giving him her hand, and saying, in her frank, affectionate voice: "Oh! I'm so glad to see you!" Of course, cousin Lavinia knew all about it; and it was very dreadful in her to have been treating Verty with so little ceremony--very, very dreadful. Was she not growing up, and even did she not wear long dresses? Was such conduct in a lady of sixteen proper?

So, innocence listened to worldly wisdom, and pride overturned simplicity; and, in consequence, our friend Verty found himself opposite a young lady who blushed, and exhibited a most unaccountable constraint, and only gave him the tips of her fingers, when he was ready for, and expected, the most enthusiastic greeting.

We must, however, speak of another influence which made Redbud so cool;--and this will, very probably, have occurred to our lady readers, if we have any, as the better explanation. Separation! Yes, the separation which stimulates affection, and bathes the eyes in the languid dews of memory. Strephon is never so devoted as when Chloe has been removed from him--when his glances seek for her in vain on the well-remembered lawn. And Chloe, too, is disconsolate, when she no longer sees the crook of her shepherd, or hears the madrigals he sings. Absence smoothes all rough places; and the friend from whom we are separated, takes the dearest place in the heart of hearts.

Redbud did not discover how much she loved Verty, until she was gone from him, and the fresh music of his laughter was no longer in her ears. Then she found that he held a very different place in her heart from what she had supposed;--or rather, to speak more accurately, she did not reflect in the least upon the matter, but only felt that he was not there near her, and that she was not happy.

This will explain the prim little ladylike air of bashfulness and constraint which Redbud exhibited, when her eyes fell on Verty, and the coolness with which she gave him her hand. The old things had pa.s.sed away--Verty could be the boy-playmate no more, however much it grieved her. Thus reflected Miss Redbud; and in accordance with this train of reasoning, did she conduct herself upon the occasion of which we speak.

So, to Strephon's request to be informed why she came thither, without telling him, Chloe replied with a blush:

"Oh, I came to school--sir," she was about to add, but did not.

"To school? Is this a school for young ladies?"

Redbud, with a delicate little inclination of the head, said yes.

"Well," Verty went on, "I am glad I found you; for, Redbud, you can't tell how I've been feeling, ever since you went away. It seemed to me that there was a big weight resting on my breast."

Redbud colored, and laughed.

"Sometimes," said Verty, smiling, "I would try and get it away by drawing in my breath, and ever so long; but I could'nt," he added, shaking his head; "I don't know what it means."

Mr. Jinks, who was dusting his rosetted shoes with a white pocket handkerchief, grimaced at this.

"Well, well," Verty went on, "I begin to feel better now, since I've seen you; and, I think, I'll do better in my office work."

"Office work?" asked Redbud, beginning to grow more like her former self.

"Oh, yes!" Verty replied; "I'm in Mr. Rushton's office now, and I'm a lawyer's clerk;--that's what they call it, I believe."

Redbud returned his bright smile. Her eye wandered toward Cloud, who stood perfectly still--the turkey, which had not been removed, yet dangling at his saddle-bow.

Verty followed the young girl's glance, and smiled.

"I know what you are looking at," he said; "you are looking at that wild turkey, and thinking that I am a poor sort of a lawyer, with such a book to read out of. But I shot him coming along."

Redbud laughed; her coolness could not last in Verty's presence; his fresh voice, so full of their old happy times, made her a child again.

"And how did you find me'?" she said, in her old tone.

"By your pigeon!"

"My pigeon?

"Yes, indeed; I shot him."

"You shot him, Verty?"

Verty experienced,--he knew not why,--a feeling of extreme delight, on hearing his name from her lips.

"Yes, I did so, Redbud," he replied, confidentially, "and I cured him, too. Look at him, up there on the roof, coo-cooing! He was sailing over the town, and I sent an arrow after him, and brought him straight down."

"Oh, Verty! how cruel!"

"I never would 'a shot him if I had seen the name on his neck."

"The name--yes--"

"Yours, Redbud. There was a piece of paper, and on it--but here's the paper."

And Verty took from his bosom the yellow scroll, and placed it in Redbud's hand.

She took it, smiling, and read the words--"I am Miss Redbud's pigeon, and f.a.n.n.y gave me to her."

"Oh, yes," she said, "and I am glad he's come back; poor fellow, I hav'nt seen him for days!"

"I had him," said Verty.

"At home?"

"Yes."