his daughter
had quailed before him, and then had come the news concerning Burr.
Sage tea, and hot foot-baths, and the doctor's nostrums had not cured
her yet. Her very spirit trembled and fluttered at this undertaking;
but she could not withstand this fierce and ardent girl who upbraided
her with the cowardice and distrust of her love. Instinctively she
tried to raise her sentiment to the standard of the other's and
believe in Burr.
Madelon paused a second as she went out, and gave a strange,
scrutinizing glance at her.
"Why do you not wear your blue-silk quilted hood with the swan's-down
trimming?" said she. "It becomes you, and it is warm over your ears."
"Yes, I will," said Dorothy, looking at her wonderingly.
Madelon went softly out of the house, and ran across and down the
road to the tavern. Dexter Beers, the landlord, was just going around
the wide sweep of drive to the stable with a meal-sack over his
shoulder. No one else was in sight; it was so cold there were no
loafers about. Madelon ran after him, and overtook him before he
reached the stable door.
"Can you let me take a horse?" said she, abruptly.
Dexter Beers looked slowly around at her with a quick roll of a black
eye in a massive face. He had an enormous bulk, which he moved about
with painful sidewise motions. His voice was husky.
"What d'ye want a horse for?" said he.
"I want it to put in Parson Fair's sleigh."
"What for?"
"To take Dorothy to ride."
"Parson's horse lame yet?"
Madelon nodded.
"Where's yours?"
"I can't have him."
Dexter Beers still moved on with curious lateral twirls of his
shoulders and heaves of his great chest, with its row of shining
waistcoat buttons.
"Pooty cold day for a sleigh-ride," he observed, with a great steam
of breath.
"I'll pay you well for the horse," said Madelon, in a hard voice. She
followed him into the stable. He heaved the meal-sack from his
shoulder to the floor with a grunt. Another man came forward with a
peck measure in his hand. He was young, with a frosty yellow
mustache. He had gone to school with Madelon and knew her well, but
he looked at her with uncouth shyness without speaking. Then he began
unfastening the mouth of the sack.
Madelon stepped forward impatiently towards the horse-stalls. There
were the relay of coach-horses, great grays and bays, champing their
feed, getting ready for their sure-footed rushes over the mountain
roads when the coaches came in
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