Mr. Pat's Little Girl - Part 22
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Part 22

"Does that mean you can't join?" Rosalind asked, looking disappointed.

"Well, I'll consider it. I'll try to be broad-minded and practise believing impossible things, like Alice."

"'Six impossible things before breakfast,'" quoted Rosalind. "I am so glad you know Alice; but it was the White Queen, wasn't it?"

"I shouldn't wonder if it was," Allan answered, laughing.

They went out to the little garden to see the sweet peas and nasturtiums, and the magician insisted upon gathering some. While they waited Rosalind told her uncle about the time she took tea with him.

When at last they left the shop, Miss Betty was standing in her door, and they crossed over to speak to her.

"Well, Allan, I am glad to see you at last," she said, coming down the walk to meet them.

"You do not appear to have pined away in my absence," he replied, shaking hands.

Miss Betty shrugged her shoulders. "I was never much on pining, but my curiosity has been sadly strained."

"What about?"

"You know very well. That ring."

"Now, if that isn't like Friendship," said Allan, laughing, as he followed her to the porch and made himself comfortable in one of the big rocking chairs. Rosalind sat on the step arranging her flowers and listening.

"I would have you know I have something else to think about besides foolish and unreasonable wills and lost jewels," Allan continued. "I regret I cannot relieve the strain, but so far as I know, the ring has not been heard of and is not likely to be."

"But if it should be found?" said Miss Betty. "Stranger things have happened."

"Yes," said Allan.

"Then the question is, do you know what you are going to do with it?"

"That is a question with which I shall not trouble myself until it is found. I am a lazy person, as you know, Cousin Betty."

"I know nothing of the sort, Allan. Now, there is one thing you might tell me. Do you know what Cousin Thomas meant, or was it one of his jokes?

Yes or no."

"No," answered Allan, promptly.

Miss Betty looked puzzled; then she laughed. "It is like playing t.i.t, tat, toe, to talk to you," she exclaimed. "I might have known you'd get ahead of me."

"I have answered your question as you desired; now let's change the subject," he suggested gravely.

Rosalind gave a gentle little chuckle. Miss Betty looked at her. "What do you think of your uncle, Rosalind?" she asked.

"You certainly have the gift for asking pointed questions," Allan remarked, before Rosalind could speak. "I can tell you what she expected.

She had an idea that I resembled Uncle Allan Barnwell."

"Gracious! You must be relieved. I could have told you better than that."

"I didn't really think it; I only wondered," said Rosalind.

Miss Betty laughed in a reminiscent sort of way. "Do you remember him, Allan? But no, I fancy you were too little. He used to visit at our house when I was a child, and I was never so afraid of any one. I suppose you have heard the story of his wedding?"

"I have a dim recollection of the story. Tell it to Rosalind."

"Well," she began, "Uncle Allan was a minister, you know. A Presbyterian of the sternest stuff, rich in eloquence and power of argument, but poor in this world's goods. However, he judiciously fell in love with Matilda Greene, the only daughter of a wealthy Baltimore merchant. As was natural, Matilda chose for her wedding-gown a gorgeous robe of white satin, and all the preparations for the event were on a lavish scale. When the day came and the guests had a.s.sembled, and the bride in her beautiful gown and lace veil appeared before the eyes of the bridegroom, Uncle Allan created a sensation by sternly declaring that such a dress was inappropriate for the bride of a humble minister of the Gospel.

"And the meek Matilda, instead of telling him he could marry her as she was or not at all, took off her satin, put on a simple muslin, and the ceremony was performed. Uncle Allan always referred to his wife as 'My Matilda'; and if the truth were known, I fancy she couldn't call her soul her own."

"I remember the story," said Allan, laughing. "We come of a stubborn family. What would have happened if Matilda had a.s.serted herself?"

"He had her at a disadvantage,--the guests waiting,--but she missed the chance of a lifetime," said Miss Betty.

"Was Matilda fond of him?" asked Rosalind.

"Let us hope so; at any rate she always spoke of him as 'My Allan.'"

CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.

AN IMPRISONED MAIDEN.

"The house doth keep itself, There's none within."

It was plain to Rosalind that for some reason her uncle did not wish to discuss the ring; nor did he seem to care whether or not it was found. It was also plain that he did not agree with his mother and sister on the question of the will.

On one occasion when Genevieve made some scornful reference to the probable motives of those who upheld the later one, Allan exclaimed in a tone of irritation, "It is beyond my comprehension how you can have so much feeling in the matter. I have seen no reason to suppose the old man incapable of making a will. The testimony seemed to point the other way; and as n.o.body except the hospital had anything to gain by this last win, it strikes me as worse than absurd to impute motives of jealousy to people who were only giving their honest opinion."

"It must be because we are not blest with your truly amiable disposition,"

Genevieve observed languidly.

A smile flitted across Rosalind's face; her uncle had spoken with a good deal of heat. Allan himself laughed. His fits of irritation usually ended in this way.

"Well, it is all over now, and we may as well make the best of it. You shall have Patricia's miniature if I can get it for you."

"Thank you," said Genevieve, really gratified. "I fear you do not know what you are promising."

Rosalind wondered how her uncle felt in regard to the Fairs, and she once or twice mentioned Celia, watching him furtively meanwhile. There was, however, no shadow of a change in his expression, and he made no comment.

A vast difference was made in the house by Allan's return. He stood in no awe of Miss Herbert, had no qualms about disturbing the drawing-room blinds or leaving the front door open from morning till night,--a Friendship custom which did not recommend itself to the housekeeper. A high cart and a swift-footed mare made their appearance, and Rosalind was often her uncle's companion on his visits to the farms belonging to the estate.

Allan was continually expecting his interest in Friendship to languish, but it did not, and after a few weeks he gave up all thought of the western trip.

The middle of July saw Genevieve on her way to the North, and a little later Miss Herbert went home on a holiday. After their departure peace settled down upon the house behind the griffins.