The Maid-At-Arms | Page 8

me from head to foot with her
bright eyes. My buckskins were dirty from travel, and the thrums in
rags; and I knew that she noted all these matters.
"Cousin," she lisped, "I fear you are something of a macaroni."

Instantly a fresh volley of laughter rattled from the landing--such clear,
hearty laughter that it infected me, spite my chagrin.
"He's a good fellow, our cousin Ormond!" came a fresh young voice
from above.
"He shall be one of us!" cried another; and I thought to catch a glimpse
of a flowered petticoat whisked from the gallery's edge.
I looked at my cousin Dorothy Varick; she stood at gaze, laughter in
her eyes, but the mouth demure.
"Cousin Dorothy," said I, "I believe I am a good fellow, even though
ragged and respectable. If these qualities be not bars to your society,
give me your hand in fellowship, for upon my soul I am nigh sick for a
welcome from somebody in this unfriendly land."
Still at gaze, she slowly raised her arm and held out to me a fresh,
sun-tanned hand; and I had meant to press it, but a sudden shyness
scotched me, and, as the soft fingers rested in my palm, I raised them
and touched them with my lips in silent respect.
"You have pretty manners," she said, looking at her hand, but not
withdrawing it from where it rested. Then, of an impulse, her fingers
closed on mine firmly, and she looked me straight in the eye.
"You are a good comrade; welcome to Varicks', cousin Ormond!"
Our hands fell apart, and, glancing up, I perceived a group of youthful
barbarians on the stairs, intently watching us. As my eyes fell on them
they scattered, then closed in together defiantly. A red-haired lad of
seventeen came down the steps, offering his hand awkwardly.
"I'm Ruyven Varick," he said. "These girls are fools to bait men of our
age--" He broke off to seize Dorothy by the arm. "Give me that watch,
you vixen!"
His sister scornfully freed her arm, and Ruyven stood sullenly

clutching a handful of torn lace.
"Why don't you present us to our cousin Ormond?" spoke up a maid of
sixteen.
"Who wants to make your acquaintance?" retorted Ruyven, edging
again towards his sister.
I protested that I did; and Dorothy, with mock empressement, presented
me to Cecile Butler, a slender, olive-skinned girl with pretty, dark eyes,
who offered me her hand to kiss in such determined manner that I
bowed very low to cover my smile, knowing that she had witnessed my
salute to my cousin Dorothy and meant to take nothing less for herself.
"And those boys yonder are Harry Varick and Sam Butler, my
cousins," observed Dorothy, nonchalantly relapsing into barbarism to
point them out separately with her pink-tipped thumb; "and that lad on
the stairs is Benny. Come on, we're to throw hunting-knives for pennies.
Can you?--but of course you can."
I looked around at my barbarian kin, who had produced hunters' knives
from recesses in their clothing, and now gathered impatiently around
Dorothy, who appeared to be the leader in their collective deviltries.
"All the same, that watch is mine," broke out Ruyven, defiantly. "I'll
leave it to our cousin Ormond--" but Dorothy cut in: "Cousin, it was
done in this manner: father lost his timepiece, and the law is that
whoever finds things about the house may keep them. So we all ran to
the porch where father had fallen off his horse last night, and I think we
all saw it at the same time; and I, being the older and stronger--"
"You're not the stronger!" cried Sam and Harry, in the same breath.
"I," repeated Dorothy, serenely, "being not only older than Ruyven by a
year, but also stronger than you all together, kept the watch, spite of
your silly clamor--and mean to keep it."
"Then we matched shillings for it!" cried Cecile.

"It was only fair; we all discovered it," explained Dorothy. "But
Ruyven matched with a Spanish piece where the date was under the
reverse, and he says he won. Did he, cousin?"
"Mint-dates always match!" said Ruyven; "gentlemen of our age
understand that, Cousin George, don't we?"
"Have I not won fairly?" asked Dorothy, looking at me. "If I have not,
tell me."
With that, Sam Butler and Harry set up a clamor that they and Cecile
had been unfairly dealt with, and all appealed to me until, bewildered, I
sat down on the stairs and looked wistfully at Dorothy.
"In Heaven's name, cousins, give me something to eat and drink before
you bring your lawsuits to me for judgment," I said.
"Oh," cried Dorothy, biting her lip, "I forgot. Come with me, cousin!"
She seized a bell-rope and rang it furiously, and a