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"Now, you dry your eyes, and we'll go into the parlour and I'll make a fire, and we'll put leaves and berries all around. Who is it coming by? Mr. Fairfax Cary." "Yeth," answered Vinie. "He rides a black horse." The hunter glanced at her again. "Little bird," he thought, "your voice didn't use to have so many notes." Aloud he said, "He's grown to look like his brother.
Adam said good-bye and went away. An hour later, going down the Fontenoy road, he came upon a small brown figure, seated, hands over knees, among the blackberry bushes. "Why, you partridge!" he exclaimed. "You little brown prairie-hen, what are you doing so far from home? Blackberries aren't ripe." "No," said Vinie. "I was just a-walking down the road, and I just walked on. I wasn't tired.
She wondered poor little partridge! why she was there, why she had been so foolish as to let Mr Adam persuade her into coming Vinie was afraid she was going to cry. Yet not for worlds would she have left Saint Margaret's; she wanted, with painful curiosity, to see the figure in bridal lace She wondered where Tom was Tom was to have joined Mr.
I always think the country's prettier down this way. Did you come from Fontenoy, Mr. Adam?" "Yes," replied Adam, sitting down beside her. "I went to see Lewis Rand not that I don't like all the people there anyway. They're always mighty nice to me." Vinie dug the point of her dusty shoe into the dusty road. "How ith Mr. Rand, Mr. Adam?" "He 'ith' almost well," answered Adam.
Mocket, gentlemen " He paused and regarded the sandy-haired and freckled Tom, the brother of little Vinie, the sometime door-boy in Chancellor Wythe's law office, with a smile so broadly humorous, humane, and tolerant, that suddenly the courtroom smiled with him. "Tom Mocket, gentlemen, is a scamp, but he's not a scoundrel! The election proceeds, Mr. Sheriff."
Brother and sister watched the riders down the road until the gathering dark and the shadow of the trees by the creek hid them from sight. "Just wait long enough and we'll see what we see," quoth Tom. "Lewis Rand's going to be a great man!" "How great?" asked Vinie. "Not as great as Mr. Jefferson?" "I don't know," the scamp answered sturdily. "He might be.
She threw open the closed shutters. "I'm jutht afraid of lightning when I'm by myself. How are you, thir?" "Very well. Vinie, I want a basin of warm water and soap." "Yeth, thir. The kettle's on. I'll fix it in Tom's room." In the bare little chamber Rand washed the blood from his coat-sleeve. It was not easy to do, but at last the cloth was clean.
Fairfax Cary, going by on Saladin, lifted his hat to the woman on the porch. "Yes, he's like that Cherokee," repeated Adam. "Where's he riding? to Fontenoy, I reckon. Now, little partridge, let's go make the parlour look like Christmas." Vinie rose, and the hunter gathered up the green stuff. She spoke again in the same fluttered voice. "Mr. Adam, do you think do you think they'll ever find out "
If their defection pained her, she gave no sign she had something of her father's pride. Among the Republican gentry she was of course made much of, and she saw something of the plainer sort of her husband's friends. Tom Mocket came occasionally on business with Rand, and once he brought Vinie with him. Jacqueline liked the sandy-haired and freckled scamp, and made friends with Vinie.
"I'd like a cup of it myself," said Adam. "Since we are both walking to town, we might as well walk together. Don't you want me to break some cherry blossoms for your parlour?" "Yeth, if you please," replied Vinie, and the two went up the sunny road to Charlottesville.
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