“What will you do if he really does offer for you?” Rebecca asked curiously.
“I shall give him such a length of my tongue that he will never forget it!” Harriet said vehemently. “Horrid,presumptuous man. Though the challenge would be almost irresistible. It would be great sport to marry him andto bring him so under my thumb that he would cringe if Iso much as looked at him. That would teach him a lesson. ”
“Yes,” Rebecca said dryly. “But somehow, Harriet, I do not think it could be accomplished. And what wouldhappen then?”
Harriet considered. “Then I should probably have a sore posterior a few times,” she said. “And I should probablyfall in love with him because I have always longed to meeta man who would not put up with my whims and tantrums.Horrid man! He could never do it.” She smiled.
Rebecca lapsed into silence, content with some very interesting thoughts for the moment. Harriet and Mr. Carver.It was almost too preposterous for belief. But it just mightwork. Her attention was caught after a while by the soundof horses’ hooves and the almost immediate appearance ofChristopher and Mr. Carver riding towards them along thedriveway.
“Horrid man,” Harriet muttered. “Here he comes again. I thought he and Mr. Sinclair were supposed to leave theday after the fair. Why did he have to stay and plague mewith a visit every day since?”
“I believe they stayed to lend us some support,” Rebecca said hastily, and composed her face to greet the two men, who were soon close to them and dismounting fromtheir horses.
They turned back toward the house, Harriet walking ahead with Mr. Carver, and Rebecca and Christopher behind.
“How are you, Becky?” Christopher asked. “I was unable to come over here yesterday. It must be somethingof a relief to you and to Lady Holmes and Miss Shaw tohave the funeral over.”
They talked about inconsequential matters as they walked. Rebecca had at least part of her attention on the coupleahead of them. Harriet had chin and nose in the air in atheatrical effort to be disdainful. Mr. Carver walked alongat her side, his face solemn, his shirt points digging sharplyinto his cheeks. They did not talk much.
Maude was still sitting in the garden when they reached the front of the house. With her was Philip. He hastilydropped her hand when the others came into sight.
“Lady Holmes,” Christopher said, walking forward, his hand outstretched. “How are you?”
Maude smiled. “Better,” she said. “Now that Lord Holmes has been laid to rest and the will read, we can begin to recover again. Poor man. None of us realized justhow ill he really was, even though Dr. Gamble had warnedme that he might have a weak heart. I am very grateful toall your family and to Mr. Carver, Mr. Sinclair, for all thesupport you have given us in the last week. I really do notknow how we would have gone along without you. Iunderstand that you and Mr. Carver have even postponedyour departure in order to be with us.”
“We leave tomorrow,” Christopher said. “We have ridden over here this afternoon to say good-by. What areyour plans, Lady Holmes? Will you remain here?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, glancing hastily at Philip, “I shall stay here with Harriet for our year of mourning, anyway.Neither of us can really make plans for the future untilthen.”
Rebecca did not think it would be obvious to any of the others. She hoped it was not so; it would have beensomewhat unseemly with Uncle Humphrey dead for onlyone week. But to her the rosy glow in Maude’s cheeks andthe almost chiseled set to Philip’s face said worlds. Onlytime would tell, of course. But she would be very surprised if there were not a wedding to celebrate in littlemore than a year’s time. And she would be very happy forthem. They would suit.
“Miss Shaw,” Mr. Carver was saying, “will you walk a little way?”
“If I do,” Harriet said tartly, “I want Rebecca to come too. I am too young, sir, to be alone with a gentleman.”
Rebecca and Christopher exchanged a straight-faced grin. Now how could she know that he was grinning when not amuscle in his face had moved? she wondered. Probably inthe same way that he would know she was smiling! Theyhad often been able to communicate without words or evenfacial expressions.
Mr. Carver made a slight bow in Rebecca’s direction. “Miss Shaw,” he said, “can’t I interest you in a walk?Your cousin has suddenly turned respectable.”
“Suddenly!” Harriet muttered, taking his proffered arm disdainfully. “Stay close, Rebecca.”
They did not walk far, just a short way into the pasture. There Mr. Carver stopped, ascertained that they were outof sight of the group in the garden, and turned to Harriet.
“Don’t know if you really want to embarrass Miss Shaw by having her here,” he said. He paused for herreaction.
Harriet had turned rather pink in the face, but she looked severely back at him. “Rebecca,” she said, without turning her head, “don’t you dare move away.”
“Think I had better marry you,” Mr. Carver said without further preamble. “No telling what will come of you if I don’t.”
“Thank you,” Harriet said. “I am about to swoon at the honor you have done me, sir. When do you get to thepart about giving me thrashings?”
“Hope it won’t ever be necessary,” Mr. Carver said, “but I’ll do it if I have to, Harriet.”
“Oh!” she said, clenching her fists and pounding them on the air at her sides. “You are a horrid man. Is he not ahorrid man, Rebecca?”
Rebecca wisely said nothing. She was somewhat embarrassed, as Mr. Carver had predicted. But she would not have missed the scene for worlds.
“Can’t marry you for at least a year,” Mr. Carver said. “Wouldn’t be respectful to your papa. But want us to bebetrothed so that I can come here occasionally to keep aneye on you.”
