The Battle Ground Part 16

Betty shook her head. "And what should I do with it, pray?" she asked.

"Uncle Shadrach wouldn't wear it for worlds--he wears only papa's clothes, you see. Oh, I might give it to Hosea; but I don't think he'd like it."

"Hosea! Well, I declare," exclaimed Dan, and was silent.

When he spoke a little later it was somewhat awkwardly.

"I say, did Virginia ever tell you she didn't like my cravats?" he inquired.

"Virginia!" her voice was a little startled. "Oh, Virginia thinks they're lovely."

"And you don't?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, you are a case," he said, and walked on slowly.

They were already in sight of the house, and he did not speak again until they had pa.s.sed the portico and entered the hall. There they found Virginia and the young men, who had ridden over ahead of them, hanging evergreens for the approaching party. Jack Morson, from the top of the step-ladder, was suspending a holly wreath above the door, while Champe was entwining the mahogany bal.u.s.trade in running cedar.

"Oh, Betty, would it be disrespectful to put mistletoe above General Was.h.i.+ngton's portrait?" called Virginia, as they went into the hall.

"I don't think he'd mind--the old dear," answered Betty, throwing her armful of holly upon the floor. "There, Dan, the burden of the day is over."

"And none too soon," said Dan, as he tossed the holly from him. "Diggs, you sluggard, what are you sitting there in idleness for? Miss p.u.s.s.y, can't you set him to work?"

Miss p.u.s.s.y, who was bustling in and out with a troop of servants at her heels, found time to reply seriously that she really didn't think there was anything she could trust him with. "Of course, I don't mind your amusing yourselves with the decorations," she added briskly, "but the cooking is quite a different thing, you know."

"Amusing myself!" protested Dan, in astonishment. "My dear lady, do you call carrying a wagon load of brushwood amus.e.m.e.nt? Now, I'll grant, if you please, that Morson is amusing himself on the step-ladder."

"Keep off," implored Morson, in terror; "if you shake the thing, I'm gone, I declare I am."

He nailed the garland in place and came down cautiously. "Now, that's what I call an artistic job," he complacently remarked.

"Why, it's lovely," said Virginia, smiling, as he turned to her. "It's lovely, isn't it, Betty?"

"As lovely as a crooked thing can be," laughed Betty. She was looking earnestly at Virginia, and wondering if she really liked Jack Morson so very much. The girl was so bewitching in her red dress, with the flush of a sudden emotion in her face, and the shyness in her downcast eyes.

"Oh, that isn't fair, Virginia," called Champe from the steps. "Save your favour for the man that deserves it--and look at me." Virginia did look at him, sending him the same radiant glance.

"But I've many 'lovelies' left," she said quickly; "it's my favourite word."

"A most appropriate taste," faltered Diggs, from his chair beneath the hall clock.

Champe descended the staircase with a bound.

"What do I hear?" he exclaimed. "Has the oyster opened his mouth and brought forth a compliment?"

"Oh, be quiet," commanded Dan, "I shan't hear Diggs made fun of, and it's time to get back, anyway. Well, loveliest of lovely ladies, you must put on your prettiest frock to-night."

Virginia's blush deepened. Did she like Dan so very much? thought Betty.

"But you mustn't notice me, please," she begged, "all the neighbours are coming, and there are so many girls,--the Powells and the Harrisons and the Dulaneys. I am going to wear pink, but you mustn't notice it, you know."

"That's right," said Jack Morson, "make him do his duty by the County, and keep your dances for Diggs and me."

"I've done my duty by you, sir," was Dan's prompt retort, "so I'll begin to do my pleasure by myself. Now I give you fair warning, Virginia, if you don't save the first reel for me, I'll dance all the rest with Betty."

"Then it will be a Betty of your own making," declared Betty over her shoulder, "for this Betty doesn't dance a single step with you to-night, so there, sir."

"Your punishment be on your own head, rash woman," said Dan, sternly, as he took up his riding-whip. "I'll dance with Peggy Harrison," and he went out to Prince Rupert, lifting his hat, as he mounted, to Miss Lydia, who stood at her window above. A moment later they heard his horse's hoofs ringing in the drive, and his voice gayly whistling:--

"They tell me thou'rt the favor'd guest."

When the others joined him in the turnpike, the four voices took up the air, and sent the pathetic melody fairly dancing across the snow.

"Do I thus haste to hall and bower Among the proud and gay to s.h.i.+ne?

Or deck my hair with gem and flower To flatter other eyes than thine?

Ah, no, with me love's smiles are past; Thou hadst the first, thou hadst the last."

The song ended in a burst of laughter, and up the white turnpike, beneath the melting snow that rained down from the trees, they rode merrily back to Cheric.o.ke.

In the carriage way they found the Major, wrapped in his broadcloth cape, taking what he called a "breath of air."

"Well, gentlemen, I hope you had a pleasant ride," he remarked, following them into the house. "You didn't see your way to stop by Uplands, I reckon?"

"That we did, sir," said Diggs, who was never bashful with the Major. "In fact, we made ourselves rather useful, I believe."

"They're charming young ladies over there, eh?" inquired the Major, genially; and a little later when Dan and he were alone, he put the same question to his grandson. "They're delightful girls, are they not, my boy?"

he ventured incautiously. "You have noticed, I dare say, how your grandmother takes to Betty--and she's not a woman of many fancies, is your grandmother."

"Oh, but Virginia!" exclaimed Dan, with enthusiasm. "I wish you could have seen her in her red dress to-day. You don't half realize what a thundering beauty that girl is. Why, she positively took my breath away."

The Major chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

"I don't, eh?" he said, scenting a romance as an old war horse scents a battle. "Well, well, maybe not; but I see where the wind blows anyway, and you have my congratulations on either hand. I shan't deny that we old folks had a leaning to Betty; but youth is youth, and we shan't oppose your fancy. So I congratulate you, my boy, I congratulate you."

"Ah, she wouldn't look at me, sir," declared Dan, feeling that the pace was becoming a little too impetuous. "I only wish she would; but I'd as soon expect the moon to drop from the skies."

"Not look at you! Pooh, pooh!" protested the old gentleman, indignantly.

"Proper pride is not vanity, sir; and there's never been a Lightfoot yet that couldn't catch a woman's eye, if I do say it who should not. Pooh, pooh! it isn't a faint heart that wins the ladies."

"I know you to be an authority, my dear grandpa," admitted the young man, lightly glancing into the gilt-framed mirror above the mantel. "If there's any of your blood in me, it makes for conquest." From the gla.s.s he caught the laughter in his eyes and turned it on his grandfather.

"It ill becomes me to rob the Lightfoots of one of their chief distinctions," said the Major, smiling in his turn. "We are not a proud people, my boy; but we've always fought like men and made love like gentlemen, and I hope that you will live up to your inheritance."

Then, as his grandson ran upstairs to dress, he followed him as far as Mrs.

Lightfoot's chamber, and informed her with a touch of pomposity: "That it was Virginia, not Betty, after all. But we'll make the best of it, my dear," he added cheerfully. "Either of the Ambler girls is a jewel of priceless value."

The little old lady received this flower of speech with more than ordinary unconcern.