At that point in his remarks the Dame laid a hand on his shoulder, saying:

"That'll do, John Gilpin. Just brew a cup of tea. I'll tell the lad."

Winifred was amused at this wifely reprimand, but no offense seemed meant nor taken. The farmer stopped talking and deftly made the tea from the boiling kettle, added a couple of plates to the waiting supper table, and drew from the oven a mighty dish of baked beans that might have been cooked in Yankee-land, and flanked this by a Yorkshire pudding.

"Oh! how nice that smells!" cried Dorothy, springing up to add the knives and forks from the dresser; while Winifred clapped her hands in a pretended ecstasy and sniffed the savory odors, admitting: "I'm as hungry as hungry! And this beats any supper I asked for at Oak Knowe.

I hope they'll want us to stay!"

Her frankness made timid little Mrs. Locke smile as she had not been able to do since she had known of Robin's accident, and smiling was good for her. Indeed, the whole atmosphere of this simple, comfortable home was good for her, and the high spirits of these three young people delightful to her care-burdened heart.

For, presently, it was the three--not least of these her idol, her Robin! Dorothy had followed the Dame into the boy's room and Winifred had promptly followed her; and because he was the sunny-hearted lad which the farmer had claimed him to be, he put all thought of his own pain or trouble out of mind, and laughed with the two girls at their awkward attempts at feeding him from the tray on the stand beside the bed. Having to lie flat upon his back he could still use one arm and could have fed himself fairly well. But this his visitors would not allow; and he was obliged to submit when Winifred, playfully struggling with Dolly for "My time now!" thrust a spoon into his ear instead of his mouth.

The truth was that under the girl's a.s.sumed indifference to the fact that she was breaking rules by "visiting without permission" lay a feeling of guilt. "Double guilt" she knew, because she had imposed upon Dorothy's ignorance by stating that during "exercise hour" any long resident pupil was free to go where she chose. This was true, but only in a measure. What was not true was that so distant a point as John Gilpin's cottage should be chosen, much less entered without permission.

But curiosity had been too strong for her and she had resented, on Dorothy's account, the refusal of Dr. Winston's invitation in the morning. Besides, she argued with her own conscience:

"We're excused from school supper and free to entertain each other in my room till chapel. What difference does it make, and who will know?

To-morrow, I'll go and 'fess to Miss Muriel and if she is displeased I'll take my punishment, whatever it is, without a word. Anyhow, Dolly can't be punished for what she doesn't know is wrong."

So, feeling that she "was in for it, anyway" Winifred's mood grew reckless and she "let herself go" to a positive hilarity.

Dorothy watched and listened in surprise but soon caught her schoolmate's spirit, and jested and laughed as merrily as she. Even Robin tried to match their funny remarks with odd stories of his own and after a little time, when he had eaten as much as they could make him, began to sing a long rigmarole, of innumerable verses, that began with the same words and ended midway each verse, only to resume. It was all something about the king and the queen and the "hull r'yal famblely" which Dorothy promptly capped with an improved version of Yankee Doodle.

Whereupon, the absurd jumble and discord of the two contrasting tunes proved too much for old John's gravity. Springing up from his chair in the outer room he seized his fiddle from its shelf and sc.r.a.ped away on a tune of his own. For his fiddle was his great delight and his one resort at times when his wife silenced his voluble tongue.

The old fiddle was sadly out of tune and Dorothy couldn't endure that.

Running to him she begged him:

"Oh! do stop that, please, please! Here, let me take and get it into shape. You make me cringe, you squawk so!"

"You fix it? you, la.s.sie! Well, if that don't beat the Dutch! What else do they l'arn children over in the States? Leave 'em to go sky-larkin' round the country in railway carriages all by themsel's, and how to help doctors set broken bones, and how to fiddle a tune--Stars an' Garters! What next? Here, child, take her and make her hum!"

Presently, the preliminary squeaks and discords, incident to "tuning up," were over and Dorothy began a simple melody that made all her hearers quietly listen. One after another the familiar things which Aunt Betty and her guardian loved best came into her mind; and remembering the beloved scenes where she had last played them, her feeling of homesickness and longing made her render them so movingly that soon the little widow was crying and Robin's sensitive face showed signs of his own tears following hers.

The tempting supper had remained untouched thus far. But now the sight of his guests' emotion, and a warning huskiness in his own throat, brought John Gilpin to his feet.

"This isn't no mournin' party, little miss, and you quit, you quit that right square off. Understand? Something lively's more to this occasion than all that solemcholy 'Old Lang Synin', 'or 'Wearin' Awa''

business. Touch us off a 'Highland Fling,' and if that t'other girl, was gigglin' so a few minutes gone, 'll do me the honor"--here the old fellow bowed low to Winifred--"I'll show you how the figger should be danced. I can cut a pigeon-wing yet, with the supplest."

Away rolled the table into the further corner of the room: even the Dame merely moving her own chair aside. For she had watched the widow's face and grieved to see it growing sad again, where a little while before it had been cheerful.

Dorothy understood, and swiftly changed from the "Land O' the Leal" to the gay dance melody demanded. Then laughter came back, for it was so funny to see the farmer's exaggerated flourish as he bowed again to Winifred and gallantly led her to the middle of the kitchen floor, now cleared for action.

Then followed the merriest jig that ever was danced in that old cottage, or many another. The cuts and the capers, the flings and pigeon-wings that bald-headed John Gilpin displayed were little short of marvelous. Forgotten was the dragging foot that now soared as high as the other, while perspiration streamed from his wrinkled face, flushed to an apoplectic crimson by this violent exercise.

Winifred was no whit behind. Away flung her jacket and then her hat.

Off flew the farmer's smock, always worn for a coat and to protect the homespun suit beneath. The pace grew mad and madder, following the movement of the old fiddle which Dorothy played to its swiftest.

Robin's blue eyes grew big with wonder and he whistled his liveliest, to keep up with the wild antics he could see in the outer room.

n.o.body heard a knock upon the door, repeated until patience ceased, and then it softly opened. A full moment the visitor waited there, gazing upon this orgy of motion; then with an ultra flourish of her skirts Winifred faced about and beheld--the Lady Princ.i.p.al!

CHAPTER V

THE FRIGHT OF MILLIKINS-PILLIKINS

For another moment there was utter silence in the cottage. Even the Dame's calmness forsook her, the absurd performance of her bald-headed husband making her ashamed of him. She had seen the Lady Princ.i.p.al pa.s.sing along the road beyond the lane but had never met her so closely, and she felt that the mistress of Oak Knowe was high above common mortals.

However, as the flush died out of Miss Tross-Kingdon's face Mrs.

Gilpin's ordinary manner returned and she advanced in welcome.

"You do us proud, madam, by this call. Pray come in and be seated."

"Yes, yes, do!" cried John, interrupting. "I'll just step-an'-fetch the arm-chair out o' Robin's room. 'Twas carried there for his mother to rest in. She--"

The mortified old fellow was vainly trying to put back the smock he had so recklessly discarded and without which he never felt fully dressed. He hated a coat and wore one only on Sundays, at church. But his frantic efforts to don this garment but added to his own discomfiture, for he slipped it on backwards, the b.u.t.tons behind, grimacing fiercely at his failure to fasten them.

One glance toward him set all the young folks laughing, he looked so comical, and even the dignified caller was forced to smile.

"Don't see what's so terrible funny as to send ye all into a tee-hee's-nest! but if so be _you_ do, why giggle away and get shut of it!" testily cried the poor old man. To have been caught "making a fool of himself" was a "bitter pill" for him to swallow; having always prided himself upon his correct deportment.

It was, as usual, the portly Dame who came to his relief, reminding:

"There, husband, that will do."

Then she quietly drew the smock over his head and slipped it back in proper guise. With this upon him his composure returned, and he apologized to Miss Tross-Kingdon as any gentleman might have done.

"Sorry to have kep' you standing so long, lady, but I'll step-an'-fetch--"

However he was spared that necessity. Dorothy had heard and understood that the best chair in the house must be placed at the caller's service and had as promptly brought it. For a moment Miss Tross-Kingdon still stood as if she would decline, till, seeing the disappointment on her host's face, she accepted it with:

"Thank you. My errand could easily have been done without so troubling you. I came to see if you have any more of that variety of apples that you sent us last time. The _chef_ declares they are the finest yet.

Have you?"

"Yes, lady, I've got a few bar'ls left. Leastwise, my Dame has. She can speak for hersel', if so be she wants to part with 'em. I heard her say she meant to keep 'em for our own winter use. But--"

"That will do, John. Bring a pan from the further bin and show Miss Tross-Kingdon. Maybe she'll like them just as well."

"All right, wife. I'll step-an'-fetch 'em to oncet."

So this obedient husband went out, his lame foot once more dragging heavily behind him, and he managing as he departed to pa.s.s by Dorothy and firmly clutch her sleeve, as he hoa.r.s.ely whispered:

"Did you ever see the beat! In your mortal 'arthly life, did ye? Well, I'm ashamed to the marrer of my bones to be caught cavortin' round like the donkey I was. Come on down suller with me and I'll get the apples. But carry 'em back--I shan't. Not this night. That woman--lady, I mean--has got eyes like gimlets and the less she bores 'em into old John Gilpin the better he'll like it. Worst is, what'll dame think? She won't say much. She's a rare silent woman, dame is, but she can do a power of thinking. Oh! hum!"

So it happened that Dorothy returned to the kitchen, fairly staggering under the weight of the biggest pan of apples that the farmer could find. Mrs. Gilpin took them from her and showed them to the Lady Princ.i.p.al, who was inwardly disappointed at the failure of her visit.

But the business was speedily concluded and, rising, she bade Mrs.