ther day had gone barefoot on Darden's errands, had been
kept waiting in hall or kitchen of these people's houses! She knew that,
for all her silken gown, she had no place among them; but she thought that
they were not kind to stare and whisper and laugh, shaming her before one
another and before him. Her heart swelled; to the dreamy misery of the day
and evening was added a passionate sense of hurt and wrong and injustice.
Her pride awoke, and in a moment taught her many things, though among them
was no distrust of him. Brought to bay, she put out her hand and found a
gate; pushed it open, and entered upon her heritage of art.
The change was so sudden that those who had stared at her sourly or
scornfully, or with malicious amusement or some stirrings of pity, drew
their breath and gave ground a little. Where was the shrinking,
frightened, unbidden guest of a moment before, with downcast eyes and
burning cheeks? Here was a proud and easy and radiant lady, with witching
eyes and a wonderful smile. "I am only Audrey, your Excellency," she said,
and curtsied as she spoke. "My other name lies buried in a valley amongst
far-off mountains." She slightly turned, and addressed herself to a
portly, velvet-clad gentleman, of a very authoritative air, who, arriving
late, had just shouldered himself into the group about his Excellency. "By
token," she smiled, "of a gold moidore that was paid for a loaf of bread."
The new Governor appealed to his predecessor. "What is this, Colonel
Spotswood, what is this?" he demanded, somewhat testily, of the
open-mouthed gentleman in velvet.
"Odso!" cried the latter. "'Tis the little maid of the
sugar-tree!--Marmaduke Haward's brown elf grown into the queen of all the
fairies!" Crossing to Audrey he took her by the hand. "My dear child," he
said, with a benevolence that sat well upon him, "I always meant to keep
an eye upon thee, to see that Mr. Haward did by thee all that he swore he
would do. But at first there were cares of state, and now for five years I
have lived at Germanna, half way to thy mountains, where echoes from the
world seldom reach me. Permit me, my dear." With a somewhat cumbrous
gallantry, the innocent gentleman, who had just come to town and knew not
the gossip thereof, bent and kissed her upon the cheek.
Audrey curtsied with a bright face to her old acquaintance of the valley
and the long road thence to the settled country. "I have been cared for,
sir," she said. "You s
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