Glenowen laughed uproariously.
"I don't doubt you did, dear heart!" he agreed. "But Lord, oh, Lord, what a way of commending a young man to a young lady's doting uncle, to say he mighty civilly helped her to run away!"
"Now, Uncle Bob, I won't like you if you talk nonsense! You know very well what I mean. And you are to be nice to Robert!" retorted Barbara, crisply.
As they went up the long, box-bordered path, Mistress Mehitable and Robert came strolling down to meet them; and the warmth of Glenowen's greetings to Robert fulfilled Barbara's utmost demands. For her own part, however, under the sway of a sudden whim, she chose to be by no means extraordinarily civil. And Robert's contentment was dashed by a chilly doubt as to whether or no he had chosen the right day for his visit. Before they went to their rooms to dress, however, Barbara relented.
"You should have come last night, Robert," she said, turning to him graciously at the foot of the stairs. "Then Uncle Bob and I would have taken you over the lake with us this morning, in the canoe, to see old Debby!"
She threw an intimate emphasis on the "the,"—and watched with a curious sense of triumph the swift fading of the cloud from Robert's face.
For this dinner Barbara dressed with unwonted care. Her plain white silk petticoat, duly lengthened, worn under her cream brocaded satin panniers, with buff satin bodice, and white lace short sleeves, gave her, as she could not but think, a most genteel appearance. With her new white silk stockings and white satin shoes, two large red roses in her bosom, and one in the dark mass of her hair just where the curl hung down, a tiny patch from the adorable new patch-box discreetly fixed near the corner of her mouth, and the new love-hood to be thrown carelessly over her head in due time, she felt herself equipped to be as imperious and unpleasant to Robert as the caprice of the moment might suggest. When she went down-stairs she found Mistress Mehitable waiting in the hall, in a gayer gown than she had ever before seen her wear. It was a silk polonaise, of a tender, gris-de-lin shade, which became her fair colouring to a marvel; and Barbara was astonished to see how young and pretty she looked.
"How perfectly lovely you look, dear!" she cried, turning Mistress Mehitable twice around, and putting a deft touch to the light, abundant, simply coiffured hair. "No one will give one look at me to-day!"
Her aunt flung an arm about her, smiling, then tripped away girlishly, flushed a pretty pink, lifted the edge of her petticoat, and displayed a slender ankle encased in embroidered sky-blue silk. Barbara clapped her hands with approval.
"It is five years since I have worn them," said Mistress Mehitable. "Seeing that I failed so, child, in my efforts to lead you along the paths of gravity, I have concluded to try and let you lead me along the paths of frivolity—a little! So I got out my blue silk stockings!" And spreading her skirts, she was in the act of making Barbara an elaborate curtsey, when Glenowen, coming up quickly behind her, caught her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.