The man touched his hat again, and said: “Mr. McPherson has sent his carriage for you. This way, please.”
“Oh, thanks! It was very kind in him,” Irene replied, entirely ignoring Rena, who followed meekly to the carriage, which Irene entered before her, while Sam handed in her bag and umbrella, and then stood a moment while Nixon unhitched the horses and prepared to mount to his seat.
Seeing Sam there still, he said to him:
“Jump up, Sam. May as well ride as walk this hot day;” then to the ladies, or rather to Irene, “You don’t mind my givin’ him a lift. This is Sam Walker; lives next to the Widow Parks’, where you are goin’.”
Irene’s head, which was always held high, went up a little higher as she nodded condescendingly, but with an air that would have told Nixon that she resented being introduced to Sam Walker, if it had been in his nature to understand it. Rena on the contrary leaned forward and said: “Certainly, let him ride; he looks tired and warm,” and again her beautiful eyes beamed on Sam a look which made him change his mind a little as to Irene’s superiority over her. In a moment he was on the seat with Nixon, but turned toward the ladies, with whom he was inclined to be sociable, and knowing no reason why he should not be so. Nor was he at all abashed by the coolness with which Irene listened to him. He could see Rena’s eyes and the dimples in her cheeks and her smile at his loquacity, which amused her. He told them who lived in the few houses they passed, and finally pointed out the McPherson place on the brow of a hill in the distance. Both girls were now interested and Irene put up her veil and used her handsome lorgnette, which Sam thought long-handled spectacles, wondering if her sight were poor. In her rôle as the Miss Burdick, Irene thought it hardly becoming to make any comment, especially as Sam was watching her curiously. Rena on the contrary stood up a moment to look at the imposing house, with its spacious grounds sloping down to a valley through which a little brook, sometimes dignified by the name of river, was running.
“It must be very pleasant there,” she said, resuming her seat, while Sam rejoined:
“Well, you bet! and it or’to be, for Mr. McPherson spent piles of money on it while he lived. Got company there now, two of ’em—young men, I mean.”
“Oh, has he come?” Rena asked, impulsively, thinking of Tom, while Irene said, under her breath,
“Don’t give yourself away.”
Sam could not hear the words, but something in Irene’s manner made him think that perhaps he was too familiar, and he at once turned his back to her. He would like to have told them of Nannie’s Well, as they were now on a rise of ground looking down to the pine-grove, but Irene’s face was not encouraging to further conversation, and he kept quiet, while Nixon urged on the horses to a pace which soon brought them to their destination, where Mrs. Parks stood ready to greet them.