"I meant to keep shady and enter him next year. I do believe if you hadn't beat I should just take it out of your hide," and the squire laughed. "Now it will go abroad that I have a crack horse. Well—and what did Cato say?"
"He was lame the next morning, but Cato thought it wouldn't be much, and when he grew worse Cato worked over him faithfully. He is sure he will be all right."
"You are beginning early, young man. Next time you let my especial horse alone. Well, I'm glad it's no worse. But I won't have you turning out a horse jockey."
They had reached the stables, where two or three old men and half a dozen negro boys were making a pretense of being busy, but they rushed to welcome the squire. Cato and Jerry were both interviewed, and when the master emerged with a pleasant face and scattered a handful of coppers for the small fry to chase about, Louis felt quite relieved, for, truth to tell, he had had several rather wretched days about his father's favorite.
The squire ordered up the carriage, and Julius came down with missy's commands.
Annis had followed her mother up the broad staircase to the large, light room where a slim young colored girl was putting away various articles in drawers and closets. The small wardrobe had been increased during the brief time spent in Baltimore, but was not very extensive yet.
When Randolph Mason had gone to Baltimore to settle the estate of one of his wife's cousins, as he had been named executor, he found Patricia Bouvier mentioned among the heirs. He recalled the pretty, attractive girl his wife had taken such an interest in, who had married an enthusiastic young French Huguenot, and some time after joined a colony of emigrants to the "New Countries," as the Middle West was then called.
"She was left a widow some years ago," said one of the relatives. "She did write about coming back, but it is a long journey for a woman and a little child. Latterly we have not heard. I dare say she is married again."
There was a company going out to settle some boundary question and make surveys, and on the spur of the moment the squire's adventurous blood was roused and he joined them. They had magnificent summer weather, and his enjoyment was intense. He found the little settlement and Mrs. Bouvier, who had known varying fortunes since her husband's death. She had been kindly cared for, and more than one man would gladly have married her, but her heart yearned for her own people. To take the journey alone seemed too venturesome, and she well knew the perils of frontier travel. So she had waited with a longing soul for some deliverance. She would go back gladly.
There was no difficulty in disposing of her claim in the settlement. She bade good-by to the grave it had been a sad, sweet pleasure to tend, and with her little girl and her delightful guide and convoy set out on the journey.