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"Isn't the stable full of horses? Where's the gray mare, I'd like to know, sir?" "Eugie!" called Bernard angrily, "come here." And as the girl appeared he made a break from the house. He possessed an abiding faith in the endurance of Eugenia's clannish soul that was proof against even the suggestion that it might succumb.
"Well, I am blessed!" groaned the general, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "Another mouth to feed. Eugie, they'll ruin me yet." "I reckon they will," returned Eugenia hopelessly. She seated herself upon the topmost step and made a place for Jim beside her. The general was silent for some time, smoking thoughtfully and staring past the aspens and the well-house to the waving cornfield.
"I don't care!" repeated Eugenia with tearful defiance. "An' she ain' no mo' steal dat ar watermillion den I is," finished Uncle Ish triumphantly. "It was just a lie," said Bernard. "Eugie, you know where liars go." "Des' ez straight ter de bad place ez dey kin walk," added Aunt Verbeny severely. "Des' ez straight ez de Lord kin sen' 'em dar."
Eugenia, in her long, white nightgown, fell upon her bed and slept. The next day she went the rounds of the farm. "I'm coming back to take you for exercise," she remarked to the general as she stood before him in her sunbonnet. The general, who was placidly smoking, groaned in protest. "Then you'll kill me, Eugie," he urged. "Exercise doesn't suit me. I'm too heavy."
She carried her key basket in her hand, and the keys jingled as she moved. Her smooth, florid face had a fine moisture over it that showed like dew on a well-sunned peach. "You aren't worrying about Nick Burr, Eugie," she said with the amiable bluntness which belonged to her. "I wouldn't let it worry me if I were you." Eugenia turned with a flash of pride.
"Eugie finds everything so new that she suffers a perpetual homesickness for Kingsborough." "There's nobody left down there except the judge and Mrs. Webb," broke in Carrie; "and you know she gets on dreadfully with Mrs. Webb now doesn't she, Aunt Sally?" "She never told me so," laughed Sally, "but I strongly suspect it. I don't disguise the fact that I consider Mrs.
"What have you named him, Eugie?" asked the judge, changing the subject with that gracious tact which was mindful of the least emergency. "He is nicely marked, I see." "I call him Jim," replied Eugenia. She spoke gravely, and the gravity contrasted oddly with the animation of her features. "But his real name is James Burwell Battle.
Dudley had met this alarming outburst with its logical retort, "Hadn't you better see a doctor, Eugie?" whereupon Eugenia had protested that "if she wasn't fit for an asylum, he needn't thank Mrs. Webb," and had dissolved in tears.
Then, as she turned her gaze, a man's figure broke upon the field of snow, coming towards her. It was Dudley Webb, and in the resolute swing of his carriage, in the resistless ardour of his eyes, he seemed to reach her from east and west, from north and south, surrounding her with a warmth of summer. As he looked at her he held out his arms. "Eugie poor girl! dear girl!"
Juliet Galt broke in with an affectionate protest. "Eugie is as great a tease as ever," she said. "She will be the death of my baby yet. I tell her to choose one of her own size, but she never does. She always plagues those smaller than herself or larger." But Eugenia had turned away to greet a stranger, and in a moment Nicholas drew back into a windowed embrasure where the lights were dim.
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