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"You have discernment indeed to recognize a gentleman in Scotch clothes," I replied, turning the laugh on him. "Dinna raise ae Buckskin, Mr. Rawlinson," said a man in corduroy. "Rawlinson!" I exclaimed at random, "there is one of your name in the colonies who knows his station better." "Trowkt!" cried mine host, "ye ken Ivie o' Maryland, Ivie my brither?"
It was dizzy riding, though the motion was not great, and before I had reached the right angle I regretted my rashness. I caught a glimpse of the Bay with the red sun on it, and as I turned saw far below me the white figure of Ivie Rawlinson, the Scotch miller, who had run out. "O haith!" he shouted. "Hand fast, Mr. Richard!"
And once, when it was turning faster than common and Ivie not there to prevent, I near lost my hold at the top, and was thrown at the bottom with such force that I lay stunned for a full minute. I opened my eyes to find her bending over me with such a look of fright and remorse upon her face as I shall never forget.
"Not so bad," he might say to Mr. McLean; "if he keeps it up we may squeeze him through yet, without trusting to to what I was fool enough to mention to you. He has the spirit o't, man, even when he bogles at the sense." But the next time Ivie called for a report ! But he had.
In the morning she waved me a brave farewell from the block where she had stood so often as I rode afield, when the dawn was in the sky. The invalid mother sat in her chair within the door; the servants were gathered on the lawn, and Ivie Rawlinson and Banks lingered where they had held my stirrup. That picture is washed with my own tears. The earth was praising God that Sunday as I rode to Mr.
But Scipio and Chess could only blubber as they helped him to lift me out, Dolly begging them to be careful. As they carried me up the familiar path to the pillared porch, the first I asked Ivie was of Patty, and next why he had left Gordon's.
In the morning she waved me a brave farewell from the block where she had stood so often as I rode afield, when the dawn was in the sky. The invalid mother sat in her chair within the door; the servants were gathered on the lawn, and Ivie Rawlinson and Banks lingered where they had held my stirrup. That picture is washed with my own tears. The earth was praising God that Sunday as I rode to Mr.
"Why," exclaimed Dolly, "it is Ivie Rawlinson!" Ivie it was, sure enough. And presently, when we drew a little closer, he gave one big shout and whipped off the hat from his head; and off, too, came the caps from the white heads of Scipio and Chess and Johnson behind him. Our oars were tossed, Ivie caught our bows, and reached his hand to Dorothy.
With trembling hands he took a packet from his cabinet and showed me the letters, twenty-three in all, which Ivie had written home since he had gone out as the King's passenger in '45. The sight of them brought tears to my eyes and carried me out of the Scotch mist back to dear old Maryland.
"Miss Alison Cray presents her compliments to and requests the favor of their company at her marriage with Mr. Ivie McLean, on January 8th, at six o'clock."
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