The Story of Bawn | Page 7

that perhaps was an indication of my
youth.
CHAPTER IV
RICHARD DAWSON
I used to go to Araglin every day, wet or dry. It is about three miles
from the Abbey as one goes to it through our own park, and by Daly's
Wood, which is a little wood, barely more than a coppice; the entrance
to it faces a gate in our park wall, and when you have traversed its short
length you have cut off a mile of the distance to Araglin if you went by
road.
I liked the work at the Creamery extremely. The place was so cool and
sweet with the splashing of falling water and the smell of cream and
warm milk, and the fresh-looking, wholesome girls in their print frocks,
and all the shining, clean utensils.
The walk to and from the Creamery was most delightful, especially
those May days when there were such drifts of flowers and the wood
was full of bluebells, and little white and blue wild anemones and
harebells and sweet woodruff.
Nothing could well be more fragrant than the wood in those days of
early summer.
It was a place in which the trees were of the light and springing variety
with slender, pale trunks, but high overhead a mass of feathery leaves
made a roof against the sky.
I have often sheltered in the wood from a heavy shower and not
received a drop; yet it was suffused through the sunshiny hours with a

soft goldenness. Below the trees was only undergrowth and the grass
sown thickly with flowers. The path went so straight through it that as
you entered by the stile at one end you saw far before you the arch of
light over the stile that took you on to the road at the other end.
Occasionally my godmother was at the Creamery, working away with
the rest, but she had so much to do of many kinds that she could not be
looked for regularly.
In a little while I was very much at home among the girls, who at first
were shy of me. If I could have gone to the Creamery at Araglin
without their knowing that I was Bawn Devereux, the young lady at the
big house, I would have enjoyed it, but that was not possible.
However, they soon forgot to be afraid of me, and laughed and
chattered among themselves, very little deterred by my presence,
except for giving me a shy glance now and again. They were most
polite and gentle with me, and would help me if they saw me lifting a
heavy crock of milk, with a "By your leave, Miss Bawn," which was
very pleasant.
I used to listen to their simple talk after they had forgotten their awe of
me, and smile and sigh to myself. It was often of lovers, and they
rallied each other about this or that swain; and sometimes it was of
their fortunes, which were being built up by tiny sums out of much
poverty, so that their milk and roses, their bright eyes and satin heads
might be gilt for their cold lovers. But I never heard anything Lady St.
Leger would not wish me to hear; indeed, the talk those summer days
was in keeping with the freshness and sweetness of the world about us.
One day that we were butter-making a party of visitors came in to see
the Creamery, as sometimes happened. I was washing the butter which
lay before me in a pan of water, with the sleeves of my gown pinned
above my elbow.
When the visitors paused to see what we were doing I did not look at
them but went on with my work. There was a good deal of whispering
and laughing among them, and I felt without looking at them that they

were not gentle-folk, at least such gentle-folk as I knew.
But presently I had the most painful sense of being stared out of
countenance, and lifting my eyes I found the eyes of one of the visitors
fixed upon me with so rude and insolent a gaze that the colour rushed
into my cheeks as though some one had struck me.
The person was a youngish man, dressed in what I took to be the height
of fashion. We know little enough about fashion, and my grandfather's
knee-breeches and frilled shirt were very smart in the Forties. The
young man had red hair and very bold blue eyes; his complexion was
ruddy, and his strong white teeth showed under his red moustache.
At the moment of looking at him I was aware of the greatest aversion
and fear within myself. I lowered my eyes and devoted myself to what I
was doing, painfully conscious all the time of