Part 16 (2/2)

When, an hour later, Mrs. Warlow came into the kitchen, traces of tears were visible on her usually placid face; and when Maud, unable any longer to restrain her curiosity, eagerly asked the meaning of the mysterious conclave in the parlor, her mother evaded answering; so Maud wisely concluded to await her parents' confidence, which she felt certain of sharing at the proper time.

At dinner Colonel Warlow ate but little of the tempting food; and the guests, although they praised the roast-chicken with its savory dressing, the delicate float and frosted cake, left their plates almost untouched.

When the constrained and quiet meal was finished, and all had returned to the parlor but Maud, Rob came back again to the table, and as that youth, with an unappeasable appet.i.te, helped himself to a plateful of ”stuffing” and gravy, he turned to his sister and said:--

”What's the matter now, Maud? The colonel seems to be all broke up; and that old Lady Estill--by grab!--_she_ looked like death on a--a--white pony! Mother, too, appeared as if she might have been sniffling; but that's nothing but a common pastime with her. You know that all women, more or less--yourself included, madam--are very much given to the chicken-hearted habit of dribbling at the nose.”

”Chicken-hearted, indeed! It is a great wonder, then, that you did not devour us long ago, sir!” said Maud, with a great show of asperity, but very glad to lead the subject into other channels and elude further questioning; for she saw by her mother's manner that there was something about the Estill visit which they wished, for unknown reasons, to keep secret, and it was a matter of honor with the n.o.ble-hearted girl to help them conceal what she herself was longing to know.

”Well, big guns of the Estill calibre don't _go off_ on slight occasions,” persisted Rob, with his mouth half-full of the adored ”stuffing,” and as he reached for a tall gla.s.s of ruby-colored plum-jelly, Maud quickly said:--

”Won't you have a bit of the cake, Rob?”

”Thanks--yes,” said he, as he helped himself to the last solitary quarter of that frosted dainty; ”and I would be pleased to taste a morsel of that chicken also,” he mumbled.

”What choice, sir?” she asked sarcastically.

”The running-gears, if you please,” he replied with polite gravity.

With a gesture of scorn and disgust, Maud pa.s.sed him the carca.s.s of the fowl; then, after filling a large platter with crusts, bones, and egg-sh.e.l.ls, she placed them before him with the injunction to help himself. Retiring to the window, she watched him devour cake, chicken, jam, and potatoes with an appet.i.te that knew no discrimination.

”I am afraid you have not done justice to my dishes,” she said, as Rob at length arose from the table.

”Oh, now don't give us any more sarcasm,” said he, while picking his teeth with a broom-split. ”It is so long from breakfast to noon, Maud, that I just get faint waiting on that slow old dinner-bell.”

”No doubt; but you remember how ravenously hungry you were last week, when the pup got the bell-rope in his mouth and summoned you in from the field at nine in the morning,” she retorted, laughingly.

”Well, that was a cloudy day,” he said, good-naturedly; then, taking his straw hat from its hook on the porch, he hurried away to the field.

After finis.h.i.+ng her domestic duties, Maud joined the guests in the parlor, with a faint hope of learning something further of the mystery which seemed to enshroud their visit, of which she had got such a tantalizing glimpse an hour before; but her expectations were, however, sadly doomed to disappointment, for nothing was said that would throw any light on the subject; and, after spending a while at the piano, she invited the guests out to look at her flowers.

The party thereupon adjourned to the garden; and when they had admired the flowers and shrubs, they sauntered on to the barn-yard, to look at the peac.o.c.ks and other fowls, of which Mrs. Warlow was justly proud.

”I should like to take a nearer view of your crops, Colonel. It has been so long since I saw a well-conducted farm, that it appears quite a novelty to me,” said Mr. Estill, with evident interest.

In a few moments they all embarked in the boat, and were rowed up to Clifford's dwelling; for if there was one thing of which the colonel was vain it was his son's farming.

As they stood in the level valley south of the river, a scene of perfect rural beauty was visible. On the north was Clifford's gothic cottage, half hidden by the drooping elm; to the east, the chimneys and gables of the Warlow homestead peeped above the trees; while out to the south, on a green knoll, stood the stone school-house, with its tower and rose-window.

The yellow wheat-stubble shone like gold beside the silvery oats, fast ripening for the harvest; the rank corn stood in clean, dark rows--great squares of waving green; scores of ricks were standing along the valley; while the clank of the header and shouts of the workmen were borne on the breeze from the neighboring field.

”Ah! this is a very home-like scene, indeed--a great contrast to the one presented here just two years ago when last I visited this spot,”

said Mr. Estill. ”My ranch, ten miles below here, was then the last settlement on the frontier. There was not a human habitation in sight--only antelope and buffalo to vary the monotony of perfect solitude. In fact, there had never been an owner for the land nor a furrow turned here since the dawn of creation. Marvelous change!” he added.

After crossing the stream on a foot-log, which here formed a rustic bridge, they all walked up to Clifford's dwelling, and while standing by the vine-mantled wall of the Old Corral, the colonel said in a musing tone:--

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