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The young doctor whistled; then considered the arm again with keen scrutiny. "The de that is she did, did she?" he said, half to himself. He felt it all over with his sound hand, and inspected it again. "Well, it's a mighty good job," he said, "whoever did it." Miss Vesta's sigh of relief was almost a gasp. Geoffrey looked up quickly, and saw her gentle eyes brimming with tears.
Bitter were his reflections, somber was his heart, as he turned to walk the thirty miles or more that lay between him and the ranch, leaving old Whetstone to the wolves. Lambert was loading cattle nearly a week later when the sheriff returned Vesta's horse, with apologies for its footsore and beaten state.
She was beginning to think that she could do very well living alone if it were not for Vesta's social needs. Vesta was coming to be quite a musician in her way, having a keen sense of the delicate and refined in musical composition.
At the old aristocratic homes on the Wye River, more scowls than smiles were bestowed on the eccentric parvenu; and at Chestertown, where originated the Peales who drew this hat into their museum, the boys burned tar-barrels on the market space, and marched, in hats of brown loaf-sugar wrappers, like Meshach's, before the dwelling of Vesta's host.
"Ah!" said Vesta's husband, "how many a poor boy thou hast sent from yonder mutilated for life, honey, like the lovers of the queen bee." "How is that?" Vesta inquired. "You never heard of the queen bee? Women, when they die, may turn to bees, and reverse their hard conditions in this life.
Tilghman in her prime a most caustic belle, and worldly as three marriages, all shrewdly contracted, could make her seemed determined to hold that Vesta had rejected her grandson for the money-lender on the consideration of wealth. Vesta's own mother, too, who should have known her well, had twice hinted the same.
Virgie, indignant, but fluttered at her first real proposal, and from one of the richest men of her color in Princess Anne, hastened to tie on her young mistress's walking-shoes, and, as they all stepped from the happy old church, where Vesta's voice had so often pierced, in her flights of harmony, to a bliss that seemed to carry her soul, like a lark, to heaven's gate, that
Vesta's reception, so unexpected, so acrimonious, affected her with a sense of gross ingratitude, and with a greater disappointment she had failed to restore joy to her parents by her desperate sacrifice. She began to feel that she might have done wrong.
"Never mind who did it or didn't do it, or whether it ever was done at all before," said Commodus, "if I saw you carry water in a sieve I'd hold it a plain sign of Vesta's particular favor to you, of your special acceptability to her, of the correctness of my intuitions about you and about this whole wretched business.
From whom fliest thou? or who withholds thee from our embrace? So speaking, he kindles the sleeping embers of the fire, and with holy meal and laden censer does sacrifice to the tutelar of Pergama and hoar Vesta's secret shrine.
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