The Richmond palladium. (Richmond, Ind.) 1906-1907, 1906-11-09
MARY E.
WILKINS

her arms and shoulders like the plum
age of a bird, and down her bacl
streamed her curls, shining like golt
under her gauze love hood.
Mistress Mary wore a mask of blacl
velvet to screen her face from the sun
and only her sweet forehead and hel
great blue eyes and the rose leaf til
of her chin showed.
The road was miry in places, and
| then / would fall behind her farther
| still that the water and red mud
| splashing from beneath my horses
hoofs might not reach her Then, final
ly, after l had done thus some few
times, she refined In her Merry Roger
and looked over her shoulder with a
flash of her blue eyes which compelled
| mine.
why do You ride so far away
Master Wingfield?' said she
| / lifted my hat and bent so low in
my saddle that the feather on it grazed
| the red mud
/ Because / fear TO splash your fine
tabby petticoat. madam / answered
II care not for my fine petticoat,' -
/ said she in q petulant way, like that of
/ Il Spolitt tliIIu w Ilo Is sweets
| and the moon and questions love in
consequence, yet still there was some
| little fear and hesitation in her tone
| Mistress Mary was a most docile pupil,
| seeming to have great respect for my
years and my learning and was as
gentle under my hand as was her Mer-
| ry Roger under hers, and yet with the
same sort of gentleness, which is as
the pupil and not as the master de-
cides and lets the pull of the other will
be felt.
| answered not, yet kept at my dis
lance, but at the next miry place she
held in Merry Roger until / was forced
to come up, and then she spoke again
and as she spoke a mockbrd was sing
ing somewhere over on the bank of the
river.
Did you ever hear sweeter birds
said she, and l answered that it was
very sweet, as indeed it was.
What do you think the bird is mock
ing, Master Wingfield?" she said, and
then l answered like a fool, for the
man who meets sweetness with his
own bitterness and keeps it not locked
in his own soul is Il fool.
Il hope not" said 1, "but he may be
hooking the hope of the spring and he
may be hooking the hope in the heart
of man. The song seems too sweet for
a mock of any bird which has no
thought beyond this years nest
Mistress Mary's blue eyes. as help
less of comprehension as a flower, look
ed in mine.
But there will be another spring,
Master Wingfield," she said somewhat
timidly, and then she added, and ]
knew that she was blushing under her
mask at her own tenderness, land
sometimes the hopes of the heart come
true
She rode on with her head bent as
one who considers deeply, but l, know
ing her well, knew that the mood
would soon pass. as it did. Suddenly
she tossed her head and flung out her
curls to the breeze and swung Merry
Rogers bride rein and was away at
gallop, and / after her, measuring the
ground with wide PAGES on my tall
thoroughbred. In this fashion we soon
left the plodding blacks SO far behind
that they became part of the distance
shadows.
Then all at once Mistress Mary
swerved off from the main road and
was riding down the track leading to
the plantation wharf, whence all the
tobacco was shipped for England and
all the merchandise imported for house
hold use unladen There the way was
very wet and the mire was splashed
high up on Mistress Mary's fine tabby
skirt, but she rode ON at a reckless
pace, and l also, much at loss to
know what had come to her, yet not
to inquire And then l saw what she
had doubtless seen before. the mast
of ship rising straightly among the
trees
When I saw the mast I knew that
the ship belonging to Madam Caven-
dish, which was called the Golden
Horn and had upon the bow the like
ness of a gilt horn, running over with
fruit and flowers. had arrived. 1t was
by this ship that Madam Cavendish
sent the tobacco raised upon the plan
tation of Drake Hill to England.
But even then l knew not what had
so stirred Mistress Mary that she had
left her sober churchward road upon
the Sabbath day, and judged that it
must be the desire to see the Golden
Horn. fresh from her voyage: nor did l
dream what she proposed doing
As we came up to the ship lying in
her dock we saw sailors on deck group
ed around cask of that same wine
which they had taken the freedom to
breach in order to celebrate their safe |
arrival in port, though it was none of
theirs The sight aroused my anger, |
but Mary Cavendish did not seem to |
see any occasion for wrath. She sat |
her prancing horse. her head up and |
her curls streaming like a flag of gold. |
and there was blue fash in her eyes |
Of which 1 knew the meaning. The |
blood of her great ancestor, the sea |
king, Thomas Cavendish. who was sec |
ond only to Sir Francis Drake, was /
astir within her
She sat there with the salt sea wind /
n her nostrils and her hair flung upon |
t like pennant of victory and looked /
1t the ship wet with the ocean surges. |
ra, l.