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"'Tis too fine a piece to be lost in shadow. I would advise a change with yonder shepherdess." "I do not know why," said Haward restlessly. "A whim. Perhaps by nature I court shadows and dark corners." "That is not so," Byrd replied quietly. He had turned in his chair, the better to observe the distant portrait that was now lightened, now darkened, as the flames rose and fell.
This eighteenth century presentment was in kindly compliance with a wish that we had expressed on that rainy day when we were looking over Brandon treasures. It was Brandon's daughter in the court gown of her colonial aunt, Evelyn Byrd. And we thought in how few American homes could this charming visitor from the colonies so find the colonial waiting to receive her.
At Hamburg these two bought a fast brig, the Lelia Byrd, to try their fortune on the west coast of South America, and recruited a third partner, a boyish Polish nobleman, Count de Rousillon, who had been an aide to Kosciusko. Three seafaring musketeers, true gentlemen rovers, all under thirty, sailing out to beard the viceroys of Spain!
"Tolly," I said, with firm conviction in my voice and manner, "you must do something heroic to shock Edith down to earth again, or into opening her eyes as those kittens daddy gave Byrd did on their ninth day. The evening of Edith's eighth day has about struck."
I'll bet you've got a bagful of fellows crazy about you. Don't you ever slip out on an errand, you know, and find some one waiting round the corner ?" "You are speaking of the customs of my maid, perhaps," said Maria Angelina with becoming young haughtiness. "For myself, I do not go upon errands. I have never been upon the streets alone." Johnny Byrd stared.
"How did you happen to get lost?" asked the principal's voice. Clint explained as best he could. "Byrd is there with you?" "Yes, sir. Do you want to speak to him?" "No. Get back here as soon as you can and come and see me at once. I want this explained a little better, Thayer. That's all. You're not um you're not in trouble with the police?" "No, sir." "All right. Get back on the first train."
The car stopped under a porte cochere, before a long brown house of heavy clapboards, with shingled roof and green blinds. Farraday jumped down and helped Mary out, and the front door opened to reveal the shining grin of McEwan, poised above the gray head of a little lady who advanced with outstretched hand to greet them. "My mother Mrs. Byrd," Farraday introduced.
Suddenly it occurred to Maria Angelina that it had been some time since he had drawn her back from Cousin Jane's casual but comprehending smile, some time since they had even heard the echo of voices ahead. Her conscience woke guiltily. "We must hurry," she declared, quickening her own small steps. Teasingly Johnny Byrd hung back. "'Fraid cat, 'fraid cat what you 'fraid of, Maria Angelina?"
Donning a linen blouse, he attacked the mass of damp clay powerfully, throwing great pieces onto the skeleton lead-pipe, which he explained had been bent to the exact angle of the head in his group. "The woman's figure I modeled from ideal proportions, Mrs. Byrd, and this head will be set upon its shoulders. My statue will then be a living thing instead of a mere symbol."
"That was the most perfect tribute I shall ever receive," Peter said, that night out on the porch, after Sam had gone home, carrying the exhausted Byrd, who even in sleep held in one hand the handle of a full basket he had begged from mother, and in the other tightly grasped a sack in which were two "little ones" daddy had got for him.
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