A Fair Barbarian | Page 7

"Are you mad,
Belinda Bassett? I am ashamed of you. At your time of life too!"
Miss Belinda almost shed tears.
"She said 'some silver-mines,' I am sure," she faltered; "for I remember

how astonished and bewildered I was. The fact is, that she is such a
very singular girl, and has told me so many wonderful things, in the
strangest, cool way, that I am quite uncertain of myself. Murderers, and
gold-diggers, and silver-mines, and camps full of men without women,
making presents of gold girdles and dog-collars, and ear-rings that drag
your ears down. It is enough to upset any one."
"I should think so," responded her ladyship. "Open the carriage-door,
Belinda, and let me get out."
She felt that this matter must be inquired into at once, and not allowed
to go too far. She had ruled Slowbridge too long to allow such
innovations to remain uninvestigated. She would not be likely to be
"upset," at least. She descended from her landau, with her most
rigorous air. Her stout, rich black _moire-antique_ gown rustled
severely; the yellow ostrich feather in her bonnet waved majestically.
(Being a brunette, and Lady Theobald, she wore yellow.) As she
tramped up the gravel walk, she held up her dress with both hands, as
an example to vulgar and reckless young people who wore trains and
left them to take care of themselves. Octavia was arranging afresh the
bunch of long-stemmed, swaying buds at her waist, and she was giving
all her attention to her task when her visitor first addressed her.
"How do you do?" remarked her ladyship, in a fine, deep voice.
Miss Belinda followed her meekly.
"Octavia," she explained, "this is Lady Theobald, whom you will be
very glad to know. She knew your father."
"Yes," returned my lady, "years ago. He has had time to improve since
then. How do you do?"
Octavia's limpid eyes rested serenely upon her.
"How do you do?" she said, rather indifferently.
"You are from Nevada?" asked Lady Theobald.

"Yes."
"It is not long since you left there?"
Octavia smiled faintly.
"Do I look like that?" she inquired.
"Like what?" said my lady.
"As if I had not long lived in a civilized place. I dare say I do, because
it is true that I haven't."
"You don't look like an English girl," remarked her ladyship.
Octavia smiled again. She looked at the yellow feather and stout moire
antique dress, but quite as if by accident, and without any mental
deduction; then she glanced at the rosebuds in her hand.
"I suppose I ought to be sorry for that," she observed. "I dare say I shall
be in time--when I have been longer away from Nevada."
"I must confess," admitted her ladyship, and evidently without the least
regret or embarrassment, "I must confess that I don't know where
Nevada is."
"It isn't in Europe," replied Octavia, with a soft, light laugh. "You know
that, don't you?"
The words themselves sounded to Lady Theobald like the most
outrageous impudence; but when she looked at the pretty,
lovelock-shaded face, she was staggered the look it wore was such a
very innocent and undisturbed one. At the moment, the only solution to
be reached seemed to be that this was the style of young people in
Nevada, and that it was ignorance and not insolence she had to do
battle with--which, indeed, was partially true.
"I have not had any occasion to inquire where it is situated, so far," she
responded firmly. "It is not so necessary for English people to know

America as it is for Americans to know England."
"Isn't it?" said Octavia, without any great show of interest. "Why not?"
"For--for a great many reasons it would be fatiguing to explain," she
answered courageously. "How is your father?"
"He is very sea-sick now," was the smiling answer,--"deadly sea-sick.
He has been out just twenty-four hours."
"Out? What does that mean?"
"Out on the Atlantic. He was called back suddenly, and obliged to leave
me. That is why I came here alone."
"Pray do come into the parlor, and sit down, dear Lady Theobald,"
ventured Miss Belinda. "Octavia"--
"Don't you think it is nicer out here?" said Octavia.
"My dear," answered Miss Belinda. "Lady Theobald"--She was really
quite shocked.
"Ah!" interposed Octavia. "I only thought it was cooler."
She preceded them, without seeming to be at all conscious that she was
taking the lead.
"You had better pick up your dress, Miss Octavia," said Lady Theobald
rather acidly.
The girl glanced over her shoulder at the length of train sweeping the
path, but she made no movement toward picking it up.
"It is too much trouble, and one has to duck down so," she said. "It is
bad enough to have to keep doing it when one