I related the peculiar manner in which she had received my admiration of it, and ended by asking him if he could imagine what was the cause of it.
"Oh," he said, carelessly, "you must not mind what she says, and make all excuses for her. She has had a great deal of trouble, and is naturally of a nervous and irritable disposition, and living here alone has increased all her peculiarities in a very great degree."
"In a very uncomfortable degree," I said; and Mr. Rutledge was continuing, when his further remarks were cut short by the desertion of two of the party, to wit, the terrier and myself. Now I had no intention of being rude, but looking down at that moment, I discovered that Tigre had possessed himself of one of my gloves, and was gnawing and shaking it with unspeakable goût. I made a motion to take it from him, whereon the rascal darted away down the path, then paused an instant, and before I could reach him, was away again toward the barn. I could not surrender so, and forgetting everything but the chase, tore after him at the top of my speed. To see the way in which that little object "streaked" along, looking back at me out of the corners of his eyes! Four legs naturally get over the ground faster than two, and Tigre had the start of me besides, but I had graduated in running at St. Catharine's, and was not to be beaten by such an antagonist as this. It was a steeple chase of no unexciting character.
"We staid not for brake, and we stopped not for stone."
A ditch intervened, but proved no obstacle, and on we tore, till we reached the low fence that separated the grounds from the outbuildings. Tigre shot under it—I took it at a flying-leap. He was making for the barn, and once there, he would baffle me; some favorite hole or inaccessible cranny would shelter him from my pursuit, and hide forever from human gaze my ill-fated glove. This goading thought sustained my flagging energy in the same proportion that the nearness of the goal reanimated that of Tigre. On, on, with desperate resolve! Stephen leaned on his spade to witness the issue of the race, Michael paused, the currycomb in his suspended hand, to see the result; and both involuntarily ejaculated, "Pretty well done!" as on the very threshold of the barn, I sprang upon my opponent and wrested the glove from his determined teeth! And in a frantic romp, we rolled together over and over on the hay, Tigre's active paws and nose in my very face, his excitement carrying him beyond all bounds of decorum, and mine, alas! making me as forgetful of all proprieties; till an approaching footstep recalled me to my senses.
Throwing down Tigre, I sprang up, and hastily shaking the hay from my dress, and pushing back my disordered hair, prepared myself for the lecture I knew I deserved, and "cut and dried" a very impertinent rejoinder. I might have saved myself the trouble; Mr. Rutledge did not take any more notice of me than if I had been Tigre's four-legged and shaggy compatriot. Passing through the barn, he called up one of the men, and gave him orders about the storing of some grain; sent for another upon the question of supplies; talked with Stephen about the state of the grape-vines; with Michael about the condition of the colts; inspected the poultry-yard; pronounced upon the cattle; equally a connoisseur, and thoroughly at home on every point.
During this time, I leaned thoughtfully against the barn door, and reviewed my own conduct, and that of Mr. Rutledge. Of course, I had been unladylike and all that—I knew it as well as anybody; but then, I was old enough to do as I liked, and who had a right to reprove me? Well, nobody had reproved me. But then, I knew just as well what he thought of me; I knew he considered me rude, disrespectful, childish; and it would have been ten times less hateful of him to have been angry and done with it, than to have taken no notice of me in any way, just as if he had at once dropped me out of his esteem, consideration and recollection altogether. Angry, humbled, but rebellious, I lingered a long while near him, with a hope that he would say something that I could resent, but no such chance was afforded me. Mr. Rutledge's whole mind was given to his business; and sullenly enough, I called to Tigre and turned toward the house. It was unlucky that I did not know how to whistle—I longed to whistle a tune, and put my hands in my pockets with a jaunty and defiant air as I passed Mr. Rutledge on my way to the house. As it was, I was obliged to content myself with the significant attitude alone, that was meant to convey tones of don't-care sauciness and indifference.
I did not feel at all like going indoors when I reached the house, though it was growing dark very rapidly; and with Tigre at my heels, paced for a long while up and down the stone walk before the steps of the piazza. The sound of Mr. Rutledge's approaching footsteps, far from checking my walk, quickened it considerably, and calling to Tigre, just as he reached the terrace, I started at a brisk pace down the avenue. Mr. Rutledge stopped and called me; I went on, pretending not to hear. He called again, and this time there was no avoiding it. I turned sharply round and said:
"Did you speak, sir?"
"It is too late for you to be out; you will take cold."