A Fair Barbarian. Frances Hodgson Burnett

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CHAPTER IV. — LADY THEOBALD.

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      "Oh, dear!" she exclaimed nervously, "there is Lady Theobald."

      Lady Theobald, having been making calls of state, was returning home rather later than usual, when, in driving up High Street, her eye fell upon Miss Bassett's garden. She put up her eyeglasses, and gazed through them severely; then she issued a mandate to her coachman.

      "Dobson," she said, "drive more slowly."

      She could not believe the evidence of her own eyeglasses. In Miss Bassett's garden she saw a tall girl, "dressed," as she put it, "like an actress," her delicate dress trailing upon the grass, a white lace scarf about her head and shoulders, roses in that scarf, roses at her waist.

      "Good heavens!" she exclaimed: "is Belinda Bassett giving a party, without so much as mentioning it to me?"

      Then she issued another mandate.

      "Dobson," she said, "drive faster, and drive me to Miss Bassett's."

      Miss Belinda came out to the gate to meet her, quaking inwardly. Octavia simply turned slightly where she stood, and looked at her ladyship, without any pretence of concealing her curiosity.

      Lady Theobald bent forward in her landau.

      "Belinda," she said, "how do you do? I did not know you intended to introduce garden-parties into Slowbridge."

      "Dear Lady Theobald"—began Miss Belinda.

      "Who is that young person?" demanded her ladyship.

      "She is poor dear Martin's daughter," answered Miss Belinda. "She arrived to-day—from Nevada, where—where it appears Martin has been very fortunate, and owns a great many silver-mines"—

      "A 'great many' silver-mines!" cried Lady Theobald. "Are you mad, Belinda Bassett? I am ashamed of you. At your time of life too!"

      Miss Belinda almost shed tears.

      "She said 'some silver-mines,' I am sure," she faltered; "for I remember how astonished and bewildered I was. The fact is, that she is such a very singular girl, and has told me so many wonderful things, in the strangest, cool way, that I am quite uncertain of myself. Murderers, and gold-diggers, and silver-mines, and camps full of men without women, making presents of gold girdles and dog-collars, and ear-rings that drag your ears down. It is enough to upset any one."

      "I should think so," responded her ladyship. "Open the carriage-door, Belinda, and let me get out."

      She felt that this matter must be inquired into at once, and not allowed to go too far. She had ruled Slowbridge too long to allow such innovations to remain uninvestigated. She would not be likely to be "upset," at least. She descended from her landau, with her most rigorous air. Her stout, rich black moire-antique gown rustled severely; the yellow ostrich feather in her bonnet waved majestically. (Being a brunette, and Lady Theobald, she wore yellow.) As she tramped up the gravel walk, she held up her dress with both hands, as an example to vulgar and reckless young people who wore trains and left them to take care of themselves. Octavia was arranging afresh the bunch of long-stemmed, swaying buds at her waist, and she was giving all her attention to her task when her visitor first addressed her.

      "How do you do?" remarked her ladyship, in a fine, deep voice.

      Miss Belinda followed her meekly.

      "Octavia," she explained, "this is Lady Theobald, whom you will be very glad to know. She knew your father."

      "Yes," returned my lady, "years ago. He has had time to improve since then. How do you do?"

      Octavia's limpid eyes rested serenely upon her.

      "How do you do?" she said, rather indifferently.

      "You are from Nevada?" asked Lady Theobald.

      "Yes."

      "It is not long since you left there?"

      Octavia smiled faintly.

      "Do I look like that?" she inquired.

      "Like what?" said my lady.

      "As if I had not long lived in a civilized place. I dare say I do, because it is true that I haven't."

      "You don't look like an English girl," remarked her ladyship.

      Octavia smiled again. She looked at the yellow feather and stout moire antique dress, but quite as if by accident, and without any mental deduction; then she glanced at the rosebuds in her hand.

      "I suppose I ought to be sorry for that," she observed. "I dare say I shall be in time—when I have been longer away from Nevada."

      "I must confess," admitted her ladyship, and evidently without the least regret or embarrassment, "I must confess that I don't know where Nevada is."

      "It isn't in Europe," replied Octavia, with a soft, light laugh. "You know that, don't you?"

      The words themselves sounded to Lady Theobald like the most outrageous impudence; but when she looked at the pretty, lovelock-shaded face, she was staggered the look it wore was such a very innocent and undisturbed one. At the moment, the only solution to be reached seemed to be that this was the style of young people in Nevada, and that it was ignorance and not insolence she had to do battle with—which, indeed, was partially true.

      "I have not had any occasion to inquire where it is situated, so far," she responded firmly. "It is not so necessary for English people to know America as it is for Americans to know England."

      "Isn't it?" said Octavia, without any great show of interest. "Why not?"

      "For—for a great many reasons it would be fatiguing to explain," she answered courageously. "How is your father?"

      "He is very sea-sick now," was the smiling answer—"deadly sea-sick. He has been out just twenty-four hours."

      "Out? What does that mean?"

      "Out on the Atlantic. He was called back suddenly, and obliged to leave me. That is why I came here alone."

      "Pray do come into the parlor, and sit down, dear Lady Theobald," ventured Miss Belinda. "Octavia"—

      "Don't you think it is nicer out here?" said Octavia.

      "My dear," answered Miss Belinda. "Lady Theobald"—She was really quite shocked.

      "Ah!" СКАЧАТЬ