The Girl at Cobhurst. Frank Richard Stockton
us!" exclaimed Miriam. "Almost any horse could do that. Did you ever see such an old poke as we have, and such a bouncy, jolting rattletrap of a carriage? It squeaks all over."
"Alas," said Ralph, "I am thinking of something worse than jolts or squeaks. I am hungry, and I am sure you must be, and I don't see what we are going to do about supper. I am afraid I am not a very good manager, yet. I had an idea that Cobhurst was not so far from the station, and that we could go over and look at the house, and come back to a hotel and stay there for the night; but now I see it will be dark before we get there, and we shall not feel like turning round and going directly back. Perhaps it would be better to turn now."
"Turn back, when we are going to our home!" cried Miriam. "How can you think of such a thing, Ralph? And you needn't suppose that neither of us is a good manager. I am housekeeper now, and I did not forget that we shall need our supper. I have it all there in my bag, and I shall cook it as soon as we reach the house. Of course I knew that we could not expect anything to eat in a place with only a man to take care of it."
"What in the world have you?" asked Ralph, much amused.
"I have four breakfast rolls," she said, "six mutton chops, a package of ground coffee, another of tea, a pound of sugar, and a good big piece of gingerbread. I am sorry I couldn't bring any butter, but I was afraid that might melt in a warm car, and run over everything. As for milk, we shall have to make up our minds to do without that for one meal. I got up early this morning, and went out and bought all these things."
Ralph was on the point of saying, "What are we going to have for breakfast?" But he would not trouble his sister's mind with any such suggestions.
"You are a good little housewife," said he; "I wish we were there, and sitting down at the table—if there is any table."
"I have thought it all out," said Miriam, "if it is one of those large farm-houses, with a big kitchen, where the family eat and spend their evening, we shall eat there, too, this once. You shall build a fire, and I'll have the coffee made in no time. There must be a coffee-pot, or a tin cup, or something to boil in. The chops can be broiled over the coals."
"On what?" asked Ralph.
"You can get a pointed stick and toast them, if there is no other way, sir. And you need not make fun of my supper; the chops are very nice ones, and I have wrapped them up in oiled silk, so that they will not grease the other things."
"Oh, don't talk any more about them," exclaimed Ralph. "It makes me too dreadfully hungry."
"If it is a cottage," remarked Miriam, looking reflectively out of the window, "I cannot get it out of mind that there will be all sorts of kitchen things hanging around the old-fashioned fireplace. That would be very nice and convenient, but—"
"You hope it is not a cottage?" said her brother.
"Well," answered Miriam, presently, "home is home, and I made up my mind to be perfectly satisfied with it whatever kind of house it may be. It seems to me that a real home ought to be like parents and relations; we've got them, and we can't change them, and we never think of such a thing. We love them quite as they are. But I cannot help hoping, just a little, that it is not a cottage. The only ones I have ever been in smelt so much of soapsuds."
It was now quite dark, and the road appeared to be growing rougher. Every now and then they jolted over a big stone, or sunk into a deep rut. Ralph let down the front window.
"Are we nearly there?" he asked of the driver.
"Yes, sir," said the man; "we are on the place now."
"You don't mean," exclaimed Miriam, "that this is our road!"
"It's a good deal washed just here," said the man, "by the heavy rains."
Presently the road became smoother and in a few minutes the carriage stopped.
"I am trembling all over," said Miriam, "with thinking of being at home, and with not an idea of what it is like."
In a moment they were standing on a broad flagstone. Although it was dark, they could see the outline of the house before them.
"Ralph," whispered Miriam, drawing close to her brother, "it is not a cottage." Without waiting for a reply she went on: "Ralph," she said, her hands trembling as they held his arm, "it is lordly."
"I had some sort of an idea like that myself," he answered; "but, my dear, don't you think it will be well to keep this man until we go inside and see what sort of accommodations we shall find? Perhaps we may be obliged to go back to the town."
Miriam immediately began to ascend the broad steps of the piazza.
"Come on, Ralph," she said, "and please don't talk like that."
Her brother laughed, paid the driver and dismissed him.
"Now, little girl," he cried, "we have burned our ships, and must take what we shall find."
"Oh, Ralph," cried Miriam, "I couldn't have gone back. If there are floors to the rooms, they will do to sleep on for to-night."
At this moment a wide front door opened, revealing a colored woman holding a lamp.
"Good evenin'," said she; "walk in."
When Ralph and Miriam had entered, the woman looked out the open door.
"Is you all?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," said Ralph.
The woman hesitated a moment, looked out again, and then closed the door.
"Would you like to go to your rooms afore supper?" she asked.
The brother and sister were so absorbed in gazing about them, that they did not hear the question. The lamp, still in the woman's hand, gave a poor and vacillating light, but they could see a wide, long hall, tall doors opening on each side, some high-backed chairs, and other dark-colored furniture.
"Yer rooms is ready," continued the woman; "ye can take yer pick of them. Supper'll be on the table the minute ye come down. Ye'd better take this lamp, sir, and thar's another one in the upper hall. I expect ye two is brother and sister. Ye're alike as two pins of different sizes."
"You're right," said Ralph, holding up the lamp, and looking about him; "but please tell me, where are the stairs?"
"Oh, yer open that glass door right in front of ye," said the woman. "I'd go with yer, but I smell somethin' bilin' over now."
Opening the glass door, they saw before them a narrow staircase in two flights.
"Stairs shut up in a room of their own," said Ralph, as they ascended.
"Did you ever see anything like this before?"
"I never saw anything like anything before," said Miriam, in a low, reverent voice.
On the floor above they found another wide hall, and four or five open doors.
"There is your lamp," said Ralph to his sister; "take the first room you come to, and to-morrow we will pick and choose."
"Who would have thought," said Miriam, "that a woman—"
"Don't let us think or talk of her now," interrupted her brother. "To hurry down to supper is our present business."
When the two went downstairs, they found the colored woman standing by an open door in the rear of the hall.
"Supper's ready, sir," said she, and they entered the dining-room.
It was a large and rather sparely furnished room, but Miriam and Ralph took no note of anything except the table, which stood in the middle of the floor, lighted by a hanging lamp. It was a large table and arranged for eight people with chairs at every place. The woman gave a little laugh, as she said:—
"I reckon you all may think this is a pretty big table for two people, an' one not growed up, but you see I didn't know nothin' about the size of the family, an' Mike he didn't know nothin' either. I'm Phoebe, Mike's wife,