The Bow of Orange Ribbon | Page 9

deal of pleasant rivalry about these gardens,
both proprietors having impressed their own individuality upon their
pleasure-grounds. Semple's had nothing of the Dutchman's glowing
prettiness and quaintness,--no clipped yews and hollies, no fanciful
flower-beds and little Gothic summer-house. Its slope was divided into
three fine terraces, the descent from one to the other being by broad,
low steps; the last flight ending on a small pier, to which the pleasure
and fishing boats were fastened. These terraced walks were finely
shaded and adorned with shrubs; and on the main one there was a stone
sun-dial, with a stone seat around it. Van Heemskirk did not think

highly of Semple's garden; and Semple was sure, "that, in the matter o'
flowers and fancy clippings, Van Heemskirk had o'er much o' a gude
thing." But still the rivalry had always been a good-natured one, and, in
the interchange of bulbs and seeds, productive of much friendly feeling.
The space between the two houses was an enclosed meadow; and this
afternoon, the grass being warm and dry, and full of wild flowers,
Katherine followed the narrow foot-path through it, and entered the
Semple garden by the small side gate. Near this gate was a stone dairy,
sunk below the level of the ground,--a deliciously cool, clean spot, even
in the hottest weather. Passing it, she saw that the door was open, and
Madam Semple was busy among its large, shallow, pewter
cream-dishes. Lifting her dainty silk skirts, she went down the few
steps, and stood smiling and nodding in the doorway. Madam was
beating some rich curd with eggs and currants and spices; and
Katherine, with a sympathetic smile, asked delightedly,--
"Cheesecakes, madam?"
"Just cheesecakes, dearie."
"Oh, I am glad! Joanna is coming, too, only she had first some flax to
unplait. Wait for her I could not. Let me fill some of these pretty little
patty pans."
"I'll do naething o' the kind, Katherine. You'd be spoiling the bonnie
silk dress you hae put on. Go to the house and sit wi' Mistress Gordon.
She was asking for you no' an hour ago. And, Katherine, my bonnie
lassie, dinna gie a thought to one word that black-eyed nephew o' her's
may say to you. He's here the day and gane to-morrow, and the lasses
that heed him will get sair hearts to themsel's."
The bright young face shadowed, and a sudden fear came into Madam
Semple's heart as she watched the girl turn thoughtfully and slowly
away. The blinds of the house were closed against the afternoon sun;
but the door stood open, and the wide, dim stairway was before her. All
was as silent as if she had entered an enchanted castle. And on the
upper hall the closed doors, and the soft lights falling through stained

glass upon the dark, rich carpets, made an element of mystery, vague
and charmful, to which Katherine's sensitive, childlike nature was fully
responsive.
Slowly she pushed back a heavy mahogany door, and entered a large
room, whose richly wainscoted walls, heavy friezes, and beautifully
painted ceiling were but the most obvious points in its general
magnificence. On a lounge covered with a design done in red and blue
tent stitch, an elegantly dressed woman was sitting, reading a novel.
"The Girl of Spirit," "The Fair Maid of the Inn," "The Curious
Impertinent," and other favourite tales of the day, were lying upon an
oval table at her side.
"La, child!" she cried, "come here and give me a kiss. So you wear that
sweet-fancied suit again. You are the most agreeable creature in it;
though Dick vows upon his sword-hilt that you look a hundred times
more bewitching in the dress you wore this morning."
"How? This morning, madam? This morning Captain Hyde did not see
me at all."
"Pray don't blush so, child; though, indeed, it is vastly becoming. I do
assure you he saw you this morning. He had gone out early to take the
air, and he had a most transporting piece of good fortune: for he
bethought himself to walk under the great trees nearly opposite your
house; and when you came to the door, with your excellent father, he
noted all, from the ribbon on your head to the buckles on your shoes.
His talk now is of nothing but your short quilted petticoat, and your
tight bodice, and beautiful bare arms. Is that the Dutch style, then, child?
It must be extremely charming."
"If my mother you could see in it! She is beautiful. And we have a
picture of my grandmother in the true Zealand dress. Like a princess
she looks, my father says; but, indeed, I have never seen a princess."
"My dear, you must allow me to laugh a little. Will you believe it,
princesses are sometimes