Before he left the breakfast table the following day,Miss Burton appeared.He thought he detected an ominous redness about her eyes,as well as the pallor which would be the natural result of illness;but she seemed to have recovered her spirits,and the rather quiet and self-absorbed little group that had hitherto seriously devoted themselves to steak and coffee,speedily brightened up under her pleasantries.Indeed she kept them lingering so long that the Mayhews and Stanton passed out before them,the latter casting a wistful glance at the cheerful party,for he had been having a stupid time.
When,much later than he expected,he started on his brief sketching excursion he found that his mind was kindled and aglow with pleasant thoughts,and that the summer landscape had been made sunnier by the sunny face he had just left.
But as he plodded his way back late in the afternoon,the sunbeams,no longer genial,became oppressive,and he was glad to hail one of the hotel stages that was returning from a neighboring village.
The vehicle already contained two adult passengers.One was a stout,red-faced woman with a baby and an indefinite number of parcels,and the other was--Ida Mayhew,who was returning from a brief shopping excursion.
As the latter saw Van Berg enter she colored,bit her lip,half frowned,and looked steadfastly away from him.Thus the stage lumbered on with its oddly assorted inmates,that,although belonging to the same human family,seemed to have as little in common as if each had come from a different planet.That Miss Mayhew looked so resolutely away from him was rather to Van Berg's advantage,for it gave him a chance to compare her exquisite profile with the expanse,slightly diversified,of the broad red face opposite.
The stout woman held her baby as if it were a bundle,and stared straight before her.As far as Van Berg could observe,not a trace of an idea or a change of expression flitted across the wide area of her sultry visage,and he found himself speculating as to whether the minds of these two women differed as greatly as their outward appearance.Indeed he questioned whether one had any more mind than the other,and was inclined to think that despite their widely separated spheres of life they were equally dwarfed.
While he was thus amusing himself with the contrasts,physical and metaphysical,which the two passengers opposite him presented,the stout woman suddenly looked out of the window at her side,and then,in a tone that would startle the quietest nerves,shouted to the driver:
"Hold on!"
Miss Mayhew half rose from her seat and looked around with something like dismay;but as she only encountered Van Berg's slightly humorous expression,she colored more deeply than before,and recalled her eyes to the farther angle of the stage with a fixedness and rigidity as great as if it had contained the head of Medusa.
Meantime the driver drew up to a small cottage by the road-side,and scrambled down from his seat that he might assist the stout woman with her accumulation of bundles.She handed him out the baby,preferring to look after the more precious parcels herself.
Van Berg politely held the door open for her;but just as she was squeezing through the stage entrance with her arms full and had her foot on the last step,her cottage door flew open with something to the effect of an explosion,and out burst three or four children with a perfect din of cries and shouts.Two vociferous dogs joined in the sudden uproar;the hitherto drowsy horses started as if a bomb-shell had dropped under their noses,and speedily broke into a mad gallop,leaving the stout woman prostrate upon her bundles in the road,and the driver helplessly holding her baby.
Miss Mayhew's cold rigidity vanished at once.Indeed dignity was impossible in the swaying,bounding vehicle.There was a momentary effort to ignore her companion,and then terror overcame all scruples.Turning her white face towards him,she exclaimed:
"Are we not in great danger?"
"I admit I would rather be in my chair on Mr.Burleigh's piazza.
With your permission,I will come to your end of the stage and speak to the horses through the open window.""Oh,come--do anything under heaven to stop these horrid beasts."Van Berg edged his way up a little past Miss Mayhew,and began speaking to the frightened horses in firm,quiet tones.At first they paid no heed to him,and as the stage made a sudden and desperate lurch,the young lady commenced to scream.
"If you do that you will insure the breaking of both our necks,"said Van Berg,sharply."If you will keep quiet I think I can stop them.See,we have quite a stretch of level road beyond us,before we come to a hill.Give me a chance to quiet them."The terror-stricken girl kept still for a moment,and then started up,saying "I shall spring out.""No,Miss Mayhew,you must not do that,"said Van Berg,decidedly.
"You must be greatly injured,and you would with almost certainty be disfigured for life if you sprang out upon the stony road.You could not help falling on your face.""Oh,horrible!"she exclaimed.
At the next heavy lurch of the stage she half-rose again to carry out her rash purpose,but the artist seized her hand and held her in her place,at the same time speaking kindly and firmly to the horses.They now began to heed his voice,and to recover from their panic.
