Then, to Barbara's ill-concealed disgust, Mistress Mehitable led the way into the drawing-room, leaving the men to smoke long pipes and thrash out problems of constitutional law to the accompaniment of the fiery old Madeira. In the drawing-room she was moody and silent, grudging all the arguments that were going on without her. And when Robert, who felt himself too unseasoned to stay with his elders beyond one pipe and an extra glass, followed the ladies at a decent interval, Barbara received him far from graciously. His last speech, in comment on the insolence of the officers, had mollified her a little, but she felt a smart resentment at his presumption in maintaining views so opposite to hers.
"I should think you would stay with the other men," she said, tartly.
"I couldn't stay a moment longer," said Robert, gallantly, "for longing to be with the most fair if not the most gracious of ladies!"
"You had better go back and learn something about your duty to your country, by listening to Doctor John and Uncle Bob!" she counselled, rudely.
Robert bowed low, having himself just now well in hand, though his heart was sore.
"I take great pleasure in listening to them, as well as to Doctor Jim, who also seems intelligent!" said he.
"Oh," exclaimed Barbara, much nettled. "Doctor Jim talks a lot of nonsense just to tease me; but he doesn't mean it,—at least, not all of it. Besides, he is always interesting. But you, with your pedantic stuff about loyalty and kings and treason, I don't find you interesting at all! Please go and talk to Aunt Hitty and Mrs. Sawyer, and let me read. Perhaps I'll be able to forget what you said at dinner!"
"It is my pleasure to obey your lightest wish, fair mistress!" said Robert, inwardly indignant, but outwardly amused at her ill-humour. He went at once to the other side of the room, and exerted himself to such good purpose that soon Mistress Mehitable's rare and silvery laughter grew frequent, against an almost ceaseless gurgle of content from Mrs. Sawyer. Robert was completely absorbed, while Barbara's interest in her book was vexatiously divided. After half an hour she got up and left the room, but he never noticed her going. Fifteen minutes later she came back, with the gray and white "Mr. Grim" on her shoulder; and he never noticed her coming, so intent he was, and so successful, in his task of amusing Aunt Hitty and Mrs. Sawyer. This was carrying obedience a little too far, and it fretted Barbara. Then the men came in from the dining-room, smoky, and a little more fluent than ordinary, and Robert was ousted from his post by Glenowen and Doctor John. But instead of returning now to Barbara, he attached himself with an engrossed air to Doctor Jim; and Barbara found herself established in her nook with the Reverend Jonathan Sawyer. To be sure, his Reverence made himself most agreeable, flattering her by the attention he would have paid to a grown woman whom he considered intelligent. He appreciated her brains, and acknowledged the lengthening of her petticoats; and his attitude was a gratifying proof to her that she really had grown to be a personage, rather than a child, within the past few days. But she found herself unable to concentrate her wits on what he was saying, and passed a rather grievous hour trying to look the attention which her brain was not giving. When, at last, Doctor Sawyer arose to go, she felt that he must think her the most stupid girl in the world. Doctor Sawyer, on the contrary, enchanted by the rapt silence and appreciation with which apparently she had hung upon his words, went away with the conviction that she was a young woman of astonishing intellect, whom they had, indeed, wronged greatly in striving to force her into the narrow Second Westings mould. From that hour, when she had watched him with glowing eyes, but hearing scarce a word of all his wit, the Reverend Jonathan Sawyer was one of Barbara's staunchest champions.
When she turned from saying good-bye to Mrs. Sawyer, Barbara found Robert standing close beside her in the hall door, apparently absorbed in contemplation of Mrs. Sawyer's billowy, retreating figure. Barbara touched him on the arm, and he turned to her with a quick apologetic courtesy, as if his thoughts had been far off.
"What were you thinking of, so far, far away?" she asked, feeling somewhat left out and forlorn.