Perhaps it was the patronizing note in the question that touched 'Genie on the raw. Perhaps it was sheer terror. Whatever the cause, she flashed up, suddenly furious. "Oh!" she cried, stamping her small foot. "Oh! I wish I were a man! I wish I were a man!"
The grizzled Federal looked at her steadily, and not without admiration.
"Perhaps it's lucky for me you're not," he answered, smiling.
Bowing, he stood aside to let the girls pass at the door, then clanked after them into the cool, wide hall with its broad center-table, its chairs and lounge--the lounge on which Philip Byrd had so lately lain--and the big black stove. To save their lives neither Sally nor her sister could help glancing at that stove.
It was Sally's part to play hostess, and she did it valiantly. "Please sit down, general," she invited. "If you will excuse me, I will see about supper." With a smile she rustled from the room, 'Genie following rather sullenly.
In the wide kitchen she dropped into a chair, trembling. Had she acted her part well, she wondered, or had she overdone it? Was it suspicion that she had seen in the general's eyes as she left him? Would he search--and find? How long would he stay? Philip was wounded, suffering, probably hungry and thirsty. If the Yankees stayed very long, he might have to surrender. What would they do to him? Would they consider him a spy and--and----
A hand clutched her and she looked up. 'Genie was on her knees beside her, flushed, tear-stained face uplifted.
"Oh, Sally, Sally!" she wailed. "Did I do wrong? Did I make him suspect?
Oh, if anything happens to Philip through my fault, I'll die!"
Sally laid her hand on the bright hair of the girl beside her. "You didn't harm Philip," she comforted. "It wouldn't do for us to be too friendly. That would be the surest way to make them suspicious."
"But--but--he'll starve!"
"Oh, no he won't! I don't think they'll stay long. 'For a few hours,'
that young officer said. But come!" Sally jumped up. "Come. Let's get supper for them. That'll give us something to do, and will keep them occupied--when it's ready. Men will always eat. Come!"
'Genie rose obediently, if not submissively. "Supper!" she flashed.
"Supper! And we've got to feed those tyrants, with poor Philip starving right under their noses."
The elder sister smiled. "I'm sorry," she said gently; "but there are worse things than missing a meal or two. Perhaps it may be better for him, after all; for he must have some fever after that wound and that ride. Anyhow, we've got to feed these Yankees, so let's do it with a good grace. Men are easiest managed when they've eaten. If we've got to feed the brutes, let's do it."
FOOTNOTE:
[53] Copyright, 1912, by the Ridgway Company.
ABBIE CARTER GOODLOE
Miss Abbie Carter Goodloe, novelist and short-story writer, was born at Versailles, Kentucky, in 1867. In 1883 she was graduated from the Girls'
High School, Louisville; and in 1889 she received the degree of Bachelor of Science from Wellesley College. The next two years were spent in studying and traveling in Europe. On her return to the United States Miss Goodloe made her home at Louisville, of which city she has been a resident ever since. Her first book, _Antinous_ (Philadelphia, 1891), a blank verse tragedy, was followed by _College Girls_ (New York, 1895), an entertaining collection of short stories of college life. Miss Goodloe's first novel, _Calvert of Strathore_ (New York, 1903), was set, for the most part, in the sunny land of France. _At the Foot of the Rockies_ (New York, 1905), a group of short stories, is Miss Goodloe's best work so far. Several of the tales are of great merit and interest, one enthusiastic critic comparing them to Kipling's finest work. The author spent one glorious summer in Alberta, Canada, surrounded by the Northwest Mounted Police, Indians, Englishmen, Americans, and the romance of it all quite possessed her. These were the backgrounds for the eight stories which have won her wider fame than any of her other writings. A winter in Mexico furnished materials for her latest novel, _The Star-Gazers_ (New York, 1910). The reader is presented to the late president of that revolutionary-ridden republic, Porfirio Diaz, together with the other celebrities of his country. The epistolary form of narration is adopted, and the result is not especially noteworthy. In no way does this work rank with _At the Foot of the Rockies_. The short-story is certainly Miss Goodloe's greatest gift, and in that field she should go far.
BIBLIOGRAPHY. Anna Blanche McGill's excellent study in the _Library of Southern Literature_ (Atlanta, 1909, v. v); _Scribner's Magazine_ (January, April, 1910; July, 1911).
A COUNTESS OF THE WEST[54]
[From _At the Foot of the Rockies_ (New York, 1905)]
She looked at the Honorable Arthur, abashed and weakly unhappy, and a wave of disgust swept over her. He was so big and stupid and irresolute. She would have liked him better if he had told her with brutal frankness that he no longer cared for her and wouldn't marry her. She had thought him grateful at least, and he wasn't even that.
The affection he had inspired in her fell from her like a discarded garment. Suddenly she unfastened a button of her shirtwaist and drew from around her neck a little blue ribbon on which hung a seal ring.
With a jerk she snapped the ribbon and slipped off the ring. She held it out to him.
"There," she said, cooly, "take it back to Rigby Park and give it to some fine English girl whom your father happens to know! I hope you'll enjoy your England. Montana's good enough for me!"
As she swept the Honorable Arthur with a scornful glance, she suddenly saw his jaw drop and a curious look spring into his eyes. Following the direction of his gaze she beheld two riders approaching at a hand gallop, a Mounted Police officer from Fort Macleod, whom she knew, and following briskly in his wake, a handsome Englishman of middle age.
The hair about his temples was heavily tinged with white, but his complexion was as fresh and pink and white as a baby's, and he was most immaculately got up in riding things.
"It's the governor," she heard the Honorable Arthur whisper incredulously to himself.
The meeting between the two was cold and formal, after the fashion of the Anglo-Saxon male. Miss Ogden looked on in fascinated silence. The Earl of Rigby put up a single eyeglass and surveyed his son.
"By gad, my boy, I'm glad to see you again. You aren't looking any too fit, you know."
"Thanks, father--yes, I know it. When did you get here?"
"Just stepped off the train at Macleod two hours ago. Beastly train."
"Yes, isn't it? Howd'y do, Nevin?"
"Howd'y do, St. John? Howd'y do, Miss Ogden? Haven't seen you for a long while. May--may I--the Earl of Rigby, Miss Ogden."
The Earl of Rigby screwed his glass in again--it had fallen out when he had shaken his son's hand--and stared at the young woman before him.
"Awfully glad to meet you, I'm sure," he said, affably. "I--I had always understood that this country was an Eveless paradise. I'm glad to see I'm mistaken."
Miss Lily Ogden surveyed the Earl of Rigby imperturbably. Not one of the thrills which an hour before she would have supposed necessarily attendant on an introduction to a noble earl now disturbed her composure. Even his exaggeratedly polite compliment left her perfectly cool. He simply seemed to her an extremely handsome man, a good deal cleverer and stronger-looking than his son.
"This country wouldn't be a paradise at all without Miss Ogden," said Nevin, gallantly. "She's the best horsewoman in Port Highwood and she'll help St. John show you the country, my lord."
"Thanks, Captain Nevin." She smiled on him sweetly, showing the white, even teeth between the scarlet lips, and then she turned to the Earl of Rigby. "I shall be delighted to show you the country--specially as Mr. St. John is obliged to go away in two or three days."
"I should like nothing better," said the earl, with conviction.
"Have to go on the round-up," murmured the Honorable Arthur.
"That's hard luck," said Nevin, sympathetically. "Two weeks, I suppose."
"Yes--father'll have to stop for a bit at the Highwood House. I fancy he'll wish he were back in England!"
"Not if Miss Ogden will ride with me," observed the earl.
A curious light came into the girl's gray eyes.
"I could show your lordship a new trail every day for the two weeks, and at the end of the time I am sure you could not decide which to call the prettiest," she asserted.
"I dare say," assented the earl, eagerly; "but I would like to try."
"Oh, Miss Ogden will take good care of you," said Nevin. "And now, as you have two guides, if you will excuse me, I think I won't go on into Highwood. Your lordship's things will be sent over early in the morning. His lordship was so anxious to see you, St. John, that we couldn't even persuade him to mess with us to-night," he remarked, jocularly, to the Honorable Arthur. "And now I will turn back, I think. Good-bye!" He waved a gauntleted hand, and wheeling his horse set off at an easy canter for the fort.