CHAPTER XXXIV
A GIRL'S NOBILITY
At half past eight o'clock in the morning Aunt Timmie was tidying up the room, Doctor Stone was removing his white jacket, and, on an adjoining cot to Mesmie, Nancy lay dozing from the effect of an anæsthetic. Her face held a frown, as though even in slumber the memory of the ordeal was following her.
"I'll go now," he whispered, "and be back at twelve. You know what to do."
The old woman nodded, but did not stop the palm-leaf fan being impartially waved over her charges. She sat like a brooding hen with two chicks; very alert, keeping an eye on each.
It was about this time that the hunting party reached the stables at Arden and grimly separated—the sheriff being driven to his waiting buggy by one of the Colonel's men, who would bring home the tethered horses.
Dale looked at the sun, now high above the mountains, and, without a word, left for the library. His all night tramp seemed to have brought no fatigue; but the old gentleman and Brent, turning toward Bradford's cottage, moved slowly.
Timmie saw them coming up the path and, glancing once more at her charges, went to the door. She did not at once notice that their trousers were frayed and muddy, and their faces scratched. News of Jane's adventure had not reached her. But her countenance was severe. During the night she had done a deal of thinking and her indictment spread over the entire male species—even now including Brent. In a hazy sort of way it was borne in on her that if gentlemen were unable to drink and at the same time keep their skins decent, they were becoming inexcusably degraded. In the circumstances, they could have no pretty gardens—ever! Above all, perhaps, was her intuitive knowledge that Brent had tried to harm this girl who, at the bidding of an old negress, came offering her flesh to help one in whom she felt no particular interest—though Dale, too, had immeasurably shocked her with his selfishness. The sum total of these things went into the long night's vigil, and left her at high tension. So now, when the men arrived, she was facing them, frowning as an indignant, inexpugnable black executioner.
"Good morning, Timmie," said the Colonel, starting to enter, but she blocked the doorway, announcing:
"You-alls cyarn' come in! Dar's a lady 'sleep in heah!"