The Chainbearer: or, The Littlepage Manuscripts. Cooper James Fenimore
of hereditary strangers."
"That is quite forgotten, and my mother says it all arose from a mistake. We are decided friends now."
"I'm sure I am very glad to hear it; for, since it is peace, let us have peace; though old enemies are not apt to make very decided friends."
"But we never were – that is, my grandfather never was an enemy of anybody; and the whole matter was amicably settled just before he went to Europe, on his unfortunate visit to Sir Harry Bulstrode. No – no – my mother will tell you, Mordaunt, that the Littlepages and the Bayards now regard each other as very decided friends."
Kate spoke with so much earnestness that I was disposed to take a look at her. The face of the girl was flushed, and I fancy she had a secret consciousness of the fact; for she turned it from me as if gazing at some object in the opposite direction, thereby preventing me from seeing much of it.
"I am very glad to learn all this," I answered, a little dryly. "As I am a Littlepage, it would have been awkward not to have known it, had I accidentally met with one of these Bayards. Does the peace include all of the name, or only those of the Hickories?"
Kate laughed; then she was pleased to tell me that I was to consider myself the friend of all of the name.
"And most especially of those of the name who dwell at the Hickories?"
"How many may there be of this especially peaceful breed? six, a dozen, or twenty?"
"Only four; so your task will make no very heavy demand on your affections. Your heart has room, I trust, for four more friends?"
"For a thousand, if I can find them, my dear. I can accept as many friends as you please, but have places for none else. All the other niches are occupied."
"Occupied! – I hope that is not true, Mordaunt. One place, at least, is vacant."
"True; I had forgotten a place must be reserved for the brother you will one day give me. Well, name him, as soon as you please; I shall be ready to love him, child."
"I may never make so heavy a draft on your affections. Anneke has given you a brother already, and a very excellent one he is, and that ought to satisfy a reasonable man."
"Ay, so all you young women say between fifteen and twenty, but you usually change your mind in the end. The sooner you tell me who the youth is, therefore, the sooner I shall begin to like him – is he one of the Bayards? —un chevalier sans peur et sans reproche?"
Kate had a brilliant complexion, in common; but, as I now turned my eyes toward her inquiringly, more in mischief, however, than with the expectation of learning anything new, I saw the roses of her cheeks expand until they covered her temples. The little beaver she wore, and which became her amazingly, did not suffice to conceal these blushes, and I now really began to suspect I had hit on a vein that was sensitive. But my sister was a girl of spirit, and though it was no difficult thing to make her change color, it was by no means easy to look her down.
"I trust your new brother, Mordaunt, should there ever be such a person, will be a respectable man, if not absolutely without reproach," she answered. "But, if there be a Tom Bayard, there is also a Pris Bayard, his sister."
"So – so – this is all news to me, indeed! As to Mr. Thomas Bayard, I shall ask no questions, my interest in him, if there is to be any, being altogether ex officio, as one may say, and coming as a matter of course; but you will excuse me if I am a little curious on the subject of Miss Priscilla Bayard, a lady, you will remember, I never saw."
My eye was on Kate the whole time, and I fancied she looked gratified, though she still looked confused.
"Ask what you will, brother – Priscilla Bayard can bear a very close examination."
"In the first place, then, did that old gossip allude to Miss Priscilla, by saying there would be light hearts and happy ones among the Bayards?"
"Nay, I cannot answer for poor Mrs. Light's conceits. Put your questions in some other form."
"Is there much intimacy between the people of the 'Bush and those of the Hickories?"
"Great —we like them exceedingly; and I think they like us."
"Does this intimacy extend to the young folk, or is it confined to the old?"
"That is somewhat personal," said Kate, laughing, "as I happen to be the only 'young folk' at the 'Bush, to maintain the said intimacy. As there is nothing to be ashamed of, however, but, on the contrary, much of which one may be proud, I shall answer that it includes 'all ages and both sexes;' everybody but yourself, in a word."
"And you like old Mr. Bayard?"
"Amazingly."
"And old Mrs. Bayard?"
"She is a very agreeable person, and an excellent wife and mother."
"And you love Pris Bayard?"
"As the apple of mine eye," the girl answered with emphasis.
"And you like Tom Bayard, her brother?"
"As much as is decent and proper for one young woman to like the brother of another young woman, whom she admits that she loves as the apple of her eye."
Although it was not easy, at least not easy for me, to cause Kate Littlepage to hold her tongue, it was not easy for her to cause the tell-tale blood always to remain stationary. She was surprisingly beautiful in her blushes, and as much like what I had often fancied my dear mother might have been in her best days as possible, at the very moment she was making these replies as steadily as if they gave her no trouble.
"How is all this then, connected with rejoicings among the people of the Hickories, at my return? Are you the betrothed of Tom Bayard, and have you been waiting for my return to give him your hand?"
"I am not the betrothed of Tom Bayard, and have not been waiting for your return to give him my hand," answered Kate, steadily. "As for Mrs. Light's gossipings, you cannot expect me to explain them. She gets her reports from servants, and others of that class, and you know what such reports are usually worth. But, as for my waiting for your return, brother, in order to announce such an event, you little know how much I love you, if you suppose I would do any such thing."
Kate said this with feeling, and I thanked her with my eyes, but could not have spoken, and did not speak, until we had ridden some distance. After this pause, I renewed the discourse with some of its original spirit.
"On that subject, Katrinke, dear," I said, "I trust we understand each other. Single or married, you will ever be very dear to me; and I own I should be hurt to be one of the last to learn your engagement, whenever that may happen. And now for this Priscilla Bayard – do you expect me to like her?"
"Do I! It would be one of the happiest moments of my life, Mordaunt, when I could hear you acknowledge that you love her!"
This was uttered with great animation, and in a way to show that my sister was very much in earnest. I felt some surprise when I put this feeling in connection with the landlady's remarks, and began to suspect there might be something behind the curtain worthy of my knowledge. In order to make discoveries, however, it was necessary to pursue the discourse.
"Of what age is Miss Bayard?" I demanded.
"She is two months my senior – very suitable, is it not?"
"I do not object to the difference, which will do very well. Is she accomplished?"
"Not very. You know few of us girls who have been educated during the revolution, can boast of much in that way; though Priscilla is better than common."
"Than of her class, you mean, of course?"
"Certainly – better than most young ladies of our best families."
"Is she amiable?"
"As Anneke, herself!"
This was saying a great deal, our eldest sister, as often happens in families, being its paragon in the way of all the virtues, and Anneke's temper being really serenity itself.
"You