Medoline Selwyns Work | Page 4

bye-and-bye for your luggage; it's only a one-seated affair outside."
I followed him to the carriage; a bright faced young fellow was holding a spirited horse; from his bearing I instantly set him down as something more than a servant.
"Here, Flaxman, is your charge," the conductor remarked, as he assisted me into the carriage.
"Miss Selwyn, I presume," the young man said, politely, as he disentangled one hand from the reins to grasp mine. The horse started off on a biasing canter, much to my amusement.
"You are not afraid, I hope," my companion said, a trifle anxiously.
"Not afraid, but amused; your horse goes so oddly; but I am not accustomed to their ways." I added, fearing my remark might give offence.
"Faery and I are very good friends, and understand each other thoroughly; but strangers usually get alarmed."
My knowledge of quadrupeds was so limited I thought it safest to remain silent.
Presently we passed the Blakes, I longed to relieve Daniel of his heavy basket; for even he seemed to stagger beneath its weight.
"I was speaking with that woman on the train. She comes to attend her son's wife, who is sick."
"Oh, the Blakes, then. She won't have much to do, Dan's wife died to-day; poor beggar, he looks heartbroken."
"Your wife may be dead some day; then you will know how dreadfully he feels," I said, hotly. The flippant tone in face of such sorrow distressed me. He gave me a merry look as he said: "There are always plenty left to replace the lost ones. A wife is far easier got than a horse; one like Faery, for instance."
I shut my mouth firmly and turned my head away to watch the white sails idly mirrored, in the still waters, I knew he was furtively watching me, and this alone held back my tears, as I thought of poor Blake's desolate hearthstone, as well as my own heart's loneliness in this wide continent of strangers.
"Mr. Winthrop regretted being away when you arrived, but he expected us to be kind to you; so we must not quarrel first thing." My companion said, with entire change of tone.
"I quarrel pretty easily," I stammered, "my temper is very abrupt."
"Most of us have quick tempers; but, I think, you, at least, have a generous one."
Then I recollected abrupt was not a very suitable word to couple with temper. Taken altogether, I found this drive home with Faery and her master anything but enjoyable.
CHAPTER II.
OAKLANDS.
Faery's head was turned at last from the wide, dusty street into an imposing gateway, which lead through an avenue bordered thickly with evergreens mostly pine and hemlock. "These trees look a trifle hot in summer; but they are a capital protection in a winter's storm, I assure you," my companion said with an apologetic air.
I could think of no suitable reply; so merely said, "yes."
"It's a tradition among their acquaintances that the Winthrops believe in getting the very best possible good out of everything."
"Have they succeeded?"
"Better than the generality of folks; but they have come pretty near extinction, at least on this side the water. Mr. Winthrop is the last of his race."
"Has he no children?"
"He is a bachelor."
"But he may have children and a wife some day."
"You will probably be his heir, if he does not marry, I believe he is your heir by your father's will, in case you die without heirs."
I laughed merrily. "He will outlive me probably. What good would his money do me if I were old, or maybe dead?"
"Your children might enjoy it."
I wondered was it customary in this country to speculate on such remote possibilities, but said nothing. We soon reached the house, which stood on ground elevated to command a magnificent view of the sea, the distant headlands, and a wide stretch of hill and dale. The house itself reminded me more of old world buildings than any I had yet seen in America; and, on the spot, I took a fancy to it, and felt that here I could easily cultivate the home feeling, without which I should still be a wanderer on the earth. Mrs. Flaxman was standing to receive me as I ascended the granite steps that led to the main entrance. The great stone house had wings at either end while deep breaks in the heavy masonry of the walls occurred at regular intervals, and heavy pillars of granite made a massive background for this fair, slight woman as I looked at her.
"I will commit Miss Selwyn to your care, mother, while I take a little longer drive with Faery," my companion said, graciously.
"I will accept your trust with a great deal of pleasure, Hubert," she said, receiving me with a cordiality that warmed my heart. "You are very welcome home. At least, I hope you will feel at home here."
"I have