V
HALF an hour later Caleb Trench was helping his two guests into the doctor’s old-fashioned, high-topped buggy.
“That’ll do, Caleb; I’ve got her safely tucked in,� Dr. Cheyney said, as he gathered the reins up and disentangled them from old Henk’s tail. “I reckon Henk and I can carry her all right; she isn’t any more delicate than a basket of eggs.�
Diana smiled in her corner of the carriage. “Thank you again, Mr. Trench,� she said gently; “it’s nice to have some one considerate. Dr. Cheyney has always scolded me, and I suppose he always will.�
“Think likely,� the doctor twinkled; “you mostly deserve it, Miss Royall.�
“He’s worse when he calls me names,� Diana lamented, and bowed her head again to Caleb as old Henk started deliberately upon his way.
The hood of the vehicle shut off her view, and she did not know that Trench stood bareheaded in the rain to watch the receding carriage, until the drenched green boughs locking over the road closed his last glimpse of it in a mist-wreathed perspective, beautiful with wind-beaten showers of dogwood bloom.
The two inside the buggy were rather silent for a while. Diana was watching the light rainfall. The sun was breaking through the clouds, and the atmosphere became wonderfully translucent. Great branches were strewn by the way, and a tall pine, cleft from tip to root, showed the course of a thunderbolt. The stream was so swollen that old Henk forded with cautious feet, and the water lapped above the carriage step.
“Drowned out most of the young crops,� Dr. Cheyney remarked laconically.
“What sort of a man is Caleb Trench?� Diana asked irrelevantly.