xt795x25bb3f https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt795x25bb3f/data/mets.xml Page, Thomas Nelson, 1853-1922. 190618  books b92-230-31280747v8 English C. Scribner's sons, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Novels, stories, sketches, and poems of Thomas Nelson Page (vol. 8) text Novels, stories, sketches, and poems of Thomas Nelson Page (vol. 8) 1906 2002 true xt795x25bb3f section xt795x25bb3f 










PLANTATION

  EDITION



VOLUME V111

 





























































In a little while she was holding the old man's hand.
                     (PAGE 128)

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4 THE NOVELS, STORIES,
SKETCHES AND POEMS OF
THOMAS NELSON PAGE 



THE OLD GENTLEMAN



OF THE BLACK



STOCK



SANTA



CLAIUS'S



PARTNER



CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
NEW YORK, + + + + 1906



I




I

 


























THE OLD GENTLEMAN OF THE BLACK STOCK
            Copyright 1897, 1901, by
          CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS


          SANTA CLATIS S PARTNER
              Copyright, 1899, by
          CHARLES SCRIBNFR'S SONS
              Copyright, 1906, by
          CHARLES SCRIBNER"S SONS

             All Rights Reserved

 




                CONTENTS


         THE OLD GENTLEMAN OF

             THE BLACK STOCK
CHArTER                                   P&GS
  I. A PRIMEVAL RELIC....     .....    .  3

  II. THE HILL-AND-DALE CARRIAGE . . . . . . .  I1

  Ill. BASHAM MILES... . . . . ... ...      26

  IV. AN OLD MAN'S INTIMATES. .... .  .   . 35
  V. OF THE FRAGRANCE OF ROSEMARY . . . . . 48
  vi. BASHAM MILES-s HISTORY... . . . . ..   52

VII. IN WHICH BASHAM MILES LOSES HIS HAT . . . 59

VIII. OF A MAKER OF MUD PIES.. ... .   . . 63

IX. THE CARVED HEART..                     73

X. SHOWING THAT LOVE IS STILL A NATIVE OF
      THE ROCKS .79

Xi. A WARNING AND AN EXAMPLE.             100
XII. ELIZABETH DALE MAKES TEA FOR TWO
      LONE MEN .121

XIII. BASHAM MILES'S WILL.. . . . . . . . . 133



SANTA CLAUS'S PARTNER  . ....



139

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                 ILLUSTRATIONS

IN A LITTLE WHILE SHE WAS HOLDING THE OLD MAN'S
    HAND ................... . Frontigpiee
 Drawn by Howard Chandler Christy
                                              AC1N s PAGE
"WHY. BURTONI WHERE ON EARTH HAVE YOU BEEN" . 69
Drawn by Howard Chandler Chriay

AND JAMES, WITH SPARKLiNG EYES. ROLLED BACK THE
    FOLDING-DOORS .266
 Drawn by W. Glackens



vil

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PREFACE



AT the suggestion of friends who have ex-
pressed a wish to know more of the history of
Elizabeth Dale than has been told, I have
availed myself of the opportunity offered by the
publication of this new edition of "The Old
Gentleman of the Black Stock," illustrated by
Mr. Christy's gifted pencil, to enlarge the story.
  I hope those who have done me the honor to
accept the Old Gentleman of the Black Stock
and Elizabeth Dale among their friends will
feel that I have tried to add to their history in
more ways than one.
  It has been a grateful task. For the old sec-
tion of that Ancient Town through which the Old
Gentleman of the Black Stock moved gravely
in the years when the lover-scarred Beech
shaded his tangled yard, and which Elizabeth
Dale lighted with her presence, has quite passed
away.
  Cinderella's Coach comes along only in the
Fairy-time of Youth.
                                   T. N. P.

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THE OLD GENTLEMAN
OF THE BLACK STOCK

 

























  TO MY DAUGHTERS

     MINNA FIELD

        AND

    FLORENCE FIELD

MY TWO MOST CONSTANT

        AND

  INDULGENT READERS

 








   THE OLD GENTLEMAN
   OF THE BLACK STOCK


                    I

             A PRIMEVAL RELIC

I  E was one of my first acquaintances when
     I came up to town to live; for I met him
almost immediately after I gave up my country
identity and melted into the sea of the city,
though I did not learn his name for some time
afterwards, and therefore knew him, as I found
many others did, simply as, "the Old Gentle-
man of the Black Stock."
  Why I spoke to him that summer morning
on the shaded street I can readily understand;
but why he spoke to me I did not know until
long afterwards. I was lonely and homesick.
I had not yet met any one except my cousin, who
had given me a place in his law office, and
                    3

 

         THE OLD GENTLEMAN
was most kind to me, but was too busy a inan
to talk much; the two or three gentlemen, all
older than myself, who had offices on our floor;
and the few people who lived at the little private
boarding-house in the old part of the town,
where I had taken the tiny hall room on the
third floor and furnished it with dreams. All of
these last, too, were older than I, and seemed
so very much older. At twenty-one a few years
make such a great difference! Moreover, all
the young people of my own age whom I saw
on the street appeared to know each other so
well,-just as I had known my own friends in
the country,-and to be so entirely all-sufficient
to each other, that it made me feel pushed out
and shut off from all the rest of the world.
  So, I remember that as I walked that morning
down the shaded, quiet street with the old
square houses on either side set back amid
trees in their big yards, I had forgotten my
dreams of the future, which had hitherto gilded
my lone little room and peopled my quiet office,
and was back among the overgrown fence-rows
and fields of my country home.
  It was then that I met for the first time the
Old Gentleman of the Black Stock, and he
spoke to me.
                     4

 
         OF THE BLACK STOCK
  Of course, then, I spoke to him. I was ready
to speak to any one; would have spoken to any
one in the world. I bad, indeed, not yet gotten
over the strange feeling I had at not speaking
to every one I met, in accordance with the civil
country custom which made passing any one
on the road without a bow a breach of manners.
  This was the way of it: I was strolling
along the street that morning, looking at the
old yards full of fine trees and shrubbery
in a tangled and somewhat neglected state,
which reminded me of the yard at home, and
I had only half taken in the fact that just
ahead of me out of the largest and most tangled
of the yards, surrounding, perhaps, the oldest
and most retired house on the street, had come
some one-an old gentleman, who had paused
just outside his broken gate, and turning half
around, was now standing looking back at the
trees behind him. I insensibly followed his eye,
and glanced up at the trees myself as I walked
along. There were three or four big locusts,
two wide-branching elms, and one beech, all
large and very old, and the beech quite gigantic.
It was, perhaps, the sole relic of the primeval
forest which once had clad these hills, and some
tawny Tityrus might well have blown his wild
                     'i

          THE OLD GENTLEMAN
pipe beneath its spreading shade. At least,
it had known of other times far back; for on
its massive trunk the scars stood thick telling
of gentler strifes long past of which lovers had
graved the histories deep in its hoary bark.
  The beech had a seat under it, and it was
at this that the old gentleman's gaze seemed
to be particularly directed.
  The trees, too, reminded me of the country,
-everything did,-and I suppose I must have
had that in my face; for when I brought my
gaze down to the ground again I was only a
few paces from the old gentleman at the gate,
and when I glanced at him I caught his eye.
  I looked away; glanced at him again, for
there was something about him which was un-
usual-quite as unusual as that square of old
houses and shady yards in a growing city, and
he attracted me.
  He seemed just to fit in with them, and to
be separated from the rest of the people I had
seen: almost as separate as myself. So, when
I looked at him again I tried to do it as if quite
casually, and at the same time endeavored to
take in as much of him as I could in my glance.
  The principal features which I noted were
a tall, slender figure neatly clad in the manner
in which an old gentleman of his age should
                     6

          OF THE BLACK STOCK
be clad, with a black broadcloth frock-coat,
somewhat, however, more flowing than usual,
and a black stock up to the chin, with a high,
white, unstarched collar falling over it, such
as I remembered very old gentlemen used to
wear years before, when I was a child, but
such as I had not seen for some time.
  This was all that I took in of his dress; for
I caught his eye again as my glance reached
his thin, high-bred, and somewhat careworn
face, clean-shaven except for a white, carefully
trimmed mustache. His eyes were gray and
keen and were set back very deep under some-
what heavy brows, and I looked into them in-
voluntarily.
  He did not give me time to look away again,
but spoke to me:
  "Good-morning, sir: "-easily, pleasantly,--
quite so much, indeed, as if he had known me,
that it flashed across my mind, in the half-see-
ond which passed before I returned his saluta-
tion, that he had mistaken me for some one else.
  I replied, however, " Good-morning, sir, " and
as a sort of apology for my stare, said, "You
have some fine old trees there, sir," and was
passing on with a somewhat quickened step,
when he said:
  "Yes, sir, they were very fine once, and
                     7

          THE OLD GENTLEMAN
would be so now, if they could escape the uni-
versal curse of Age.-You are fond of trees"
he added, as I paused to avoid the rudeness
of leaving him while he was speaking.
  "Yes, sir; I was brought up amongst them."
  I was going on to say that they carried me
back to my home, but he did not give me time.
  "They are worth loving: they last !-How
long have you been from the country" His
deep eyes were resting on my face.
  I was a little taken aback, for, apart from
the fact that his abrupt question implied that
he knew at a glance I was not a city man, I
was sufficiently conscious of a certain differ-
ence between myself and the smooth young city
fellows I met, to think that he meant to remark
on my countryfied appearance. So, with a
half-formed idea that he might, if given the
opportunity, explain himself differently, I sim-
ply replied:
  "'Sir''
  "How long have you been in the city"
  "Oh! about three weeks," I said, with as-
sumed indifference, and still feeling a little un-
comfortable over the meaning I assigned him;
and gradually getting somewhat warm over it,
I moved to go on.
                     8

 
         OF THE BLACK STOCK
  "Where are you from" he asked.
  I told him the county.
  " Oh, I thought so! " He scanned me so
boldly, and I fancied, rudely, that I said, quite
shortly:
  "Good-morning, sir."
  He bowed:
  ' Good-morning, sir.'
  It was only when I went over in my mind
afterwards all the circumstances of the inter-
view to see if I could find anything to soothe
my wounded spirit that I recalled how gracious
his manner was, and how courteous his tone
as he returned my parting salute, and decided
that he could not have meant to insult or wound
me.
  I found that he had made quite an impres-
sion on me. His appearance, his voice, his air,
all remained with me, distinguished from those
of the men I was now meeting.
  I asked my cousin who he was, and attempted
to describe him, but though I went into some
detail and gave, I thought, a faithful portrait-
ure of him, my cousin, who was a man about
town as well as a lawyer in extensive practice,
failed to recognize him from my description.
In time I made acquaintances, and in fur-
                     9

 
         THE OLD GENTLEMAN
ther time yet, I secured practice enough to jus-
tify me in selecting more commodious quarters
than those I had at first in my little hall room.
And as I fell into city ways I began to visit
about in society more and more, until I be-
came quite as much of a city man, and, indeed,
of a society man, as a still very modest income,
coupled with some ambition to increase it,
would allow. Yet I never met my Old Gen-
tleman of the Black Stock in any of the bright
houses I visited, or, indeed, anywhere else ex-
cept on the street, and there only very rarely:
perhaps two or three times at most in the two
years which went by before I ever did more
than acknowledge with a bow his passing and
pleasant salutation.



10

 







HI



         THE HILL-AND-DALE CARRIAGE

 TWO years or so after the summer morning
 when I met the Old Gentleman of the Black
 Stock coming out of the shady yard on that old
 street-It was, I remember, in the month of
 May-I was passing down a busy street one
morning, when a vehicle coming along attracted
my attention. It was only one of a number
of carriages that were coming down the prin-
cipal driving street from the fashionable resi-
dence quarter of the town, and were turning into
the chief shopping street of the city. But of
all the number this one attracted my attention
the most. For whilst the others were shining
city equipages, with showy teams, and fashion-
able women lolling back in the easy and pretend-
edly indifferent style of ladies of fashion when
they honor the trading section at the change
of the seasons, who, if they knew me, conde-
                     11

           THE OLD GENTLEMAN
 scended to acknowledge my bow with cold super-
 ciliousness, this vehicle, though I had never
 seen it before, was familiar to my mind and chal-
 lenged my interest at once.
   It was an old country carriage,-and as I
walked along through the balmy spring-time
air, which felt like feathers on my cheek, I
had just been thinking before I saw it, of the
country and of the little, willow-shaded stream
with its deep pools, where I used to fish in
spring when the leaves were tender like those
above me, before I became a lawyer and a man
of affairs. Just then the old carriage came
swinging down the hill.
  It was antiquated and high-swung and
"shackling"; as muddy as a country wagon,
and drawn by two ill-matched, though not ill-
bred horses, spattered with mud to their ear
tips, their long tails tied up in knots. It was
driven by an old, gray-headed darkey wearing
a low beaver hat, a high white collar, and a
pair of yellow buckskin gloves.
  It reminded me of the old carriage, with its
old driver, Uncle Balla, at home.
  But what struck me more than anything else
as the vehicle passed me was that it was filled
to the brim with fresh, young, country girls,
                     12

 
          OF THE BLACK STOCK
who, oblivious of the restraining requirements
of fashion, were poking their pretty heads out
of the windows, three at a time, to look at
everything on the street that struck their fancy,
and with glowing cheeks and dancing eyes
were chattering to each other in the highest
spirits, showing their white teeth and going off
into fits of laughter over the fun they were
making for themselves. Whilst on the back
seat a sweet-faced lady, with gray, smooth
hair and a patrician profile, smiled softly and
happily upon them, well content with their
gayety and joy.
  They caught my eye, for I never saw more
roses gathered in one carriage, and I had
stopped and was staring at them open-mouthed,
with a warm glow curling about my heart, and
a growing tenderness coming over me as I
gazed.
  I suppose I must have shown this somehow.
I may even have sighed, for I thought again
of my fishing days and of laughing country
girls I knew whom these were so much like.
  One of them particularly struck me, and I
was sure I had caught her gaze on me, when
a hand was laid firmly on my shoulder, and a
voice just beside me said:
                     13

          THE OLD GENTLEMAN
  "My son, when you want a wife, stop a car-
riage like that and pick one out of it. You
might almost do it at random: you could hardly
go amiss."
  I turned, and there was my Old Gentleman
of the Black Stock. He was clad in white linen,
as immaculate as fresh snow. I smiled my
thanks to him and passed on, whilst he walked
up the street.
  I had not gone over two steps when some
one touched me on the arm, and a gentleman,
evidently a stranger in the town, said to me,
"I beg your pardon; can you tell me who that
old gentleman is"
  I turned, and he indicated my old friend,
for at that moment I felt him to be such.
  He was walking up the street quite slowly,
with his head a little bowed, and his hands,
holding his ivory-headed cane, clasped behind
his back,-as lonely as an obelisk in a desert.
  "No, I am very sorry, but I cannot,:" I said.
  "Oh! I thought I saw you speak to him "
he said, with some disappointment in his tone.
  "I did, but I do not know his name."
  "I have rarely seen a more striking-looking
man. He might have walked out of the pages



14

 
         OF THE BLACK STOCK
of Plutarch," said he, meditatively, as he went
on.
  I do not know just how it was, but I found
myself shopping all that day. As soon as I had
gotten through with whatever I was doing, I
went back up the street and began to search
diligently among the throng of vehicles there
for an old carriage with a pair of wiry country
horses and an old negro driver wearing gaunt-
lets. I went up square after square looking
for it among the shining equipages with their
pompous coachmen and glossy teams, and then,
not finding it, went through the second shop-
ping street.
  But all was in vain.
  It was plain that the driver was feeding his
horses somewhere at a, livery stable. So I went
even so far as to enter three or four of the
larger and more frequented dry-goods stores on
the street in hopes of catching a glimpse once
more of a. pink face and a pair of laughing eyes
which I had caught smiling at me out of the
window of the old coach.
  I had wandered fruitlessly through several
long floors, between aisles of women's backs of
every shape and species of curve or stiffness,
                     15

 
         THE OLD GENTLEMAN
with attentive clerks or tired-eyed women
standing over against them on the other side
of the counters, and had just given up my
search in despair end was returning somewhat
downcast to my office, when I passed a mil-
liner's window and happened to glance in.
There were my rose-buds clustered together
in front of a large mirror, my special one in
the midst of the group, with a great broad-
brimmed straw hat covered w`th roses on top
of her little brown head, shading her fresh
face,-making, as she stood before the mirror
pensively turning her little person from side to
side, one of the prettiest pictures in the world.
  Fool that I was! I might have known that
a girl would go first for a bonnet!
  She must have received a compliment just
then, though whether it was from one of her
sisters or front the glass only. I do not know;
for, at the same moment that she turned to
her sisters, she suddenly smiled (thank Heaven!
the sister stood on the side toward the win-
dow. I just loved her for it!)-a smile which
lit up her face so that even the oversheltering
hat with its lovely roses could not shadow it,
but seemed only a bower for the lovelier roses
beneath.-Lit up her face It lit up the world!
                     16

          OF THE BLACK STOCK
  I had become so engrossed with the pretty
tableau that I had forgotten I might be seen
from within quite plainly, and I stood staring
at my young beauty through the window, open-
eyed and open-mouthed, until I became sud-
denly aware that she was looking through the
glass past her sister, and straight into my eyes.
Then I gave quite a jump at my rudeness and
rushed away. The look of embarrassment, al-
most bordering on horror, which was on her
face as our eyes met, was all that I saw, and
I almost fled toward my office.
  I learned afterwards that had I waited a sec-
ond longer I should have seen her confusion
give way to uncontrollable amusement over my
flight. And I learned later that her mimicry
of my sudden agitation was long the entertain-
ment of her special circle.
  If I fled, however, it was only a momentary
stampede, which my growing ardor soon
checked, and I stopped at the next corner, and
crossing over the street took my post and
waited to watch from a more secure quarter
the exodus from that blessed Goshen.
  I had not long to, wait, for soon from the
door sallied all together the three young
nymphs, each under a new, very wide, and-
                    17

          THE OLD GENTLEMAN
I have no doubt-very beautiful straw hat.
But only one hat now filled my eye-the wide-
brimmed creation which served as setting for
the charming flower-garden above the yet more
charming flower-garden below, which even at
that distance I could see glowing in the cheeks
of the youngest, and possibly the tallest, of the
three sisters.
  They passed down the street arm in arm,
laughing heartily, especially my little lady in
the middle, at something-I learned afterwards
it was at my sudden consternation and unex-
pected flight-and turned in at a dry-goods
store,-one which I had already threaded that
morning in my vain search for my unknown
little lady.
  If there was any common though unwritten
law against a man's going into a millinery shop,
there was, thank Heaven! none against his
going into a dry-goods store; at least, if he
could devise some want which he might possibly
get supplied there. I had the want beyond
doubt: that shop now held what within the last
few hours I had come to want more than any-
thing else on earth. But a sweetheart, if she
were wholly unknown, as happened to be the
case with me, would palpably not do; I could
                     18

          OF THlE BLACK STOCK
not ask for her. So I cudgelled my brains for
something that I might demand if I were halted
within.
  I finally hit on neckties. Neckties have a sort
of halfway place between a woman's wear and
a man's gear, and besides, give time in the ex-
amination and selection. So, having made this
resolution, I ventured in, and found the same
rows of feminine backs-augmented somewhat
since my last exploration by new additions-
bending over piles of every conceivable stuff;
and the same assiduous clerks and tired women
standing as before on the other side of the
counters engaged in a task as hopeless as tell-
ing Belshazzar his dream-telling women what
they wanted when they did not know them-
selves.
  As I passed on I heard many criticisms and
not a few complaints-some harsh, some only
petulant-from the women with backs, received,
for the most part in silence, by the women with-
out backs.
  Suddenly I was startled to find myself quite
close to the large hat with the roses which I
now knew so well. It was forming a bower
for the pretty head, at that moment bending
over several pieces of some lawny, white stuff.
                     19I

          THE OLD GENTLEMAN
The young lady's gloves were off, and the
slender little hands were feeling the texture
of the fabric with a touch as soft as if it had
been a baby's cheek. Her face, which I could
see in profile, was deeply serious.
  "It is beautiful-beautiful. I wish I could
get it," she almost sighed, "but I am afraid it
is too dear for me; I have only so much to
spend. Do you think you could possibly find
anything a little lower and-almost as pretty,
that you could show me" She glanced up at
the shop-girl before her with a little smile-I
was going to say, almost pitiful; but the ex-
pression which came on her face as she looked
into the tired eyes above her banished that.
  "Are n't you very tired" she asked sud-
denly, with the sweetest, tenderest tone in the
world. "I should think you would be."
  "Oh, it 's a pleasure to wait on you," said
the older woman, sincerely, her face lighting
up as she turned away to her shelves, pleased
at the tone of sympathy.
  And who would not have thought so! I, at
least, did; and overcome by a sudden feeling,
as my young rose-nymph, whose face had lit
up at the praise, turned to take a survey of
the crowd about her, I, abandoning my idea
of neckties, turned and hurried out of the store.
                     20

 
         OF THE BLACK STOCK
  It was a strange feeling, delicious to me. I
knew that I must be in love. I did not even
know her name; but I knew her eyes, her voice,
her heart, and they were enough.
  As I came out on the street, there was the
old carriage coming slowly along down, with
the old driver leaning forward, looking anx-
iously to one side, as if to recognize some given
sign.
  " If you want a wife, stop a carriage like
that, and take one out of it. Even taking one
at random you can hardly go amiss," had said
my Old Gentleman of the Black Stock, and I
believed him.
  I could not resist the temptation to go up
and render my first act of assistance to the
family. I signed to the driver, and he stopped.
  "You are looking for your young mistress 'i"
  "Yes, suh; mistis tell me to come and stop
right by two big rocks in front of a red sto'.
Dyah's de sto', but I b'lieve dee done move
dem rocks. I see 'em heah dis mornin' when I
went by !" He leant forward and gave another
look.
  "They are there still," I said, recognizing
the two carriage-stones b)y his description; "buLt
those carriages hide them."
  "Yes, suh; I never see sich folks in my life.
                     21

          THE OLD GENTLEMAN
Dee ain' got no manners in de worl'! Dee 'II
put dee kerridge right in yo' way, don' keer
what you do! And dee won' git out to save
yo' life. Mistis told me to be here by three,
an'-"
  "Why, it 's only half-past one now," I said.
  "Yes, suh; but I likes to be sort o' promp-
tual in town! See dem kerridges by dem rocks
now! I jes want to git in dyah once, an' I
boun' dee oon git me out agin b'fo' my mis-
tises come. I don' like dese city ways, an' I
never did like a citified nigger nohow! I got
a right good ways to go, too."
  "How far do you live from town" I asked
him. I was growing guileful.
  "In and about eighteen miles, suh. I start
b'fo' light dis mornin'. I comes from Colonel
Dale's ole place. 'Hill-an '-Dale' dee calls it."
  I knew at once then who my wild rose was.
The Dales were among the best old families in
the State, and "Hill-and-Dale" was as well
known to our people as the capital city: one of
the famous country places celebrated for gen-
erations as the home of hospitality and refine-
ment.
  Colonel Dale had died not very long after
the war, from a wound received at Gaines's
Mill, and had left a widow and a family of
                    22

 
         OF THE BLACK STOCK
young daughters, whose reputation for beauty
had reached me even before I left my country
home, though I had never seen any of themn,
as "Hill-and-Dale" was in the farthest end of
the county, quite fifty miles away from us.
  "Well, they are in that store now," I said,
to put the old coachman's mind at rest. "iAt
least, one of them is."
  "Is dee  " he asked, much relieved. The
next second he gave a bow over my head.
  "Dyah 's Miss Lizbeth now!"   he said -in
somne excitement, trying to attract her attention.
  "Miss Lizbeth, Miss Lizbeth," he called.
"Heah me, heah me." But it was in vain.
  I turned in some confusion; but she was stand-
ing under her big straw hat just outside the
door, looking alternately up and down the street,
evidently expecting some one who had promised
to come and had not.
  My resolution was taken in a second, though
to do it set my heart to thumping against my
ribs.
  "Wait," I said. "I will tell her for you."
And I actually walked up to her, and taking
off my hat, said, "I beg your pardon, but I
think your driver is there, trying to attract
your attention. "
"Is he  Thank you. Where " she said so
                    23

 
          THE OLD GENTLEMAN
sweetly that my already bumping heart began
to bound. Then, as I indicated the direction,
and she caught the old man's eye, her face lit
up with that charming smile, which I can liken
to nothing else but sunlight breaking forth on
an already sweet and lovely prospect.
  "Oh, thank you," she said again, tripping
away, whilst I passed on to make it appear
that I had only happened accidentally to see
her driver's signal.
  I turned, however, a few rods farther on, as
if quite casually, to get another peep at her.
  She stood on the very edge of the curbstone,
bending forward, talking very earnestly to her
driver out in the street; but just as I turned
she caught up her dress with a quick, graceful
motion and tripped on tiptoe over to the car-
riage, showing as she did so just a glimpse of
the daintiest pair of ankles in the world. Then
the intervening carriages shut her out from
view, and I went on.
  So the name of my prize was Elizabeth Dale,
and I had spoken to her!
  I did not fail to pass along the street again
-quite indifferently-a few minutes before
three, and again at frequent intervals, until
more than many minutes after that hour; but
                     24

 
         OF THE BLACK STOCK
though "them two rocks" were there, a stand-
ing monument, and "the red store," hallowed
by her having entered it, was there, and many
other carriages came and went, the old coach
from Hill-and-Dale came not, and neither did
its pretty rose-and-sunshine mistress.
  The street seemed quite deserted. The town
was suddenly empty.
I went home to my boarding-house with new
sensations, and if I was in love, I set all rules
at defiance, for I ate like a ploughman, and slept
that night like a log.



25

 









III



                BASHAM MILES

I DID not meet my young lady again for a
    long time, nor shall I pretend that all this
while I cherished no other image than hers in
my heart. I certainly carried hers there im-
pressed with great clearness for quite a period
-for, I should say, several weeks, at least-
and I always bore a sweet and pleasant picture
of her, never wholly effaced, however much
softened by the steadily intervening months.
  But I found after a time that there were
other eyes besides hers, and that other girls
wore roses in their hats and roses under them
too. So that although at first I formed all sorts
of plans, romantic and otherwise, to meet her,
and even carried one idea so far into execu-
tion as to purchase a handsomely bound set of
Tennyson to send her anonymously, and mark
                     26

          OF THE BLACK STOCK
one or two passages which described her aptly,
and should compel her curiosity to penetrate
mny almost invulnerable anonymity, yet courage
failed me in face of the questionable act of
sending anything anonymously to a young lady
whom I did not know, and after a few weeks
I made another disposition of the poems, send-
ing them without change of marked passages,
and with a note which I considered quite fetch-
ing, to a girl whom I did know.
  Still, no serious results came from any part
of this, and I applied myself somewhat more
faithfully to what I was now pleased to call
" my practice," and never wholly forgot the
old Hill-and-Dale carriage, with the pretty
faces laughing together out of the windows,
nor became entirely indifferent to the memory
of the little Hill-and-D)ale lady of the big sum-
mer hat and the large sunny eyes. If I ever
saw a pretty face with a rose-garden above it,
it was very apt to call up a picture of a mnil-
liner's window on a May morning. Or if I
caught a glimpse of a pair of pretty ankles, I
thought of a daintier pair, and a slender, girlish
figure tripping with ithem out into the street.
  And once or twice things occurred to remind
me strongly of her. Once when I saw in a paper
a notice headed, "A pretty Country Wedding
                     27

           THE OLD GENTLEMAN
at Hill-and-Dale," my heart gave quite a jump
into my throat, and when I read that it was
the eldest daughter who was married and not
the youngest, I was sensible of a feeling of
relief.
  The sister had married an Episcopal clergy-
man, whom I knew by reputation as a fine,
earnest fellow and a good preacher.
  The notice went on to speak of the "well-
known beauty," of the sisters, all of whom had
acted as bridesmaids, and it mentioned partic-
ularly "the charming appearance of the young-
est, Miss Elizabeth," whose character, it stated,
was a.s lovely as her personal beauty might lead
one to infer.
  The notice evidently was written by a friend.
It went on to say that there was a rumor that
"another fair sister" would soon follow the
example of the eldest.
  My heart had another flutter and sinking at
this, and I could have cursed the vague writer
for not giving some intimation as to which sister
the report concerned.