In Her Own Right Part 6

"I think so, sir, the Colonel did, I know. If you wish, I'll send you a list of the various stores, and all you need do is to pay the bills. Is there anything else I can do now, sir?"

"Nothing," said Croyden. "And thank you very much for all you have done."

"How about your baggage--can I send it out? No trouble, sir, I a.s.sure you, no trouble. I'll just give your checks to the drayman, as I pa.s.s.

By the way, sir, you'll want the telephone in, of course. I'll notify the Company at once. And you needn't fear to speak to your neighbors; they will take it as it's meant, sir. The next on the left is Major Borden's, and this, on the right, is Captain Tilghman's, and across the way is Captain Las.h.i.+el's, and Captain Carrington's, and the house yonder, with the huge oaks in front, is Major Markoe's."

"Sort of a military settlement," smiled Croyden.

"Yes, sir--some of them earned their t.i.tle in the war, and some of them in the militia and some just inherited it from their pas. Sort of handed down in the family, sir. The men will call on you, promptly, too. I shouldn't wonder some of them will be over this evening."

Croyden thought instantly of the girl he had seen coming out of the Borden place, and who had directed him to Clarendon.

"Would it be safe to speak to the good-looking girls, too--those who are my neighbors?" he asked, with a sly smile.

"Certainly, sir; if you tell them your name--and don't try to flirt with them," d.i.c.k added, with a laugh. "Yonder is one, now--Miss Carrington," nodding toward the far side of the street.

Croyden turned.--It was she! the girl of the blue-black hair and slender silken ankles.

"She's Captain Carrington's granddaughter," d.i.c.k went on with the Southerner's love for the definite in genealogy. "Her father and mother both died when she was a little tot, sir, and they--that is, the grandparents, sir--raised her. That's the Carrington place she's turning in at. Ah----"

The girl glanced across and, recognizing d.i.c.k (and, it must be admitted, her Clarendon inquirer as well), nodded.

Both men took off their hats. But Croyden noticed that the older man could teach him much in the way it should be done. He did it shortly, sharply, in the city way; d.i.c.k, slowly, deferentially, as though it were an especial privilege to uncover to her.

"Miss Carrington is a beauty!" Croyden exclaimed, looking after her.

"Are there more like her, in Hampton?"

"I'm too old, sir, to be a competent judge," returned d.i.c.k, "but I should say we have several who trot in the same cla.s.s. I mean, sir----"

"I understand!" laughed Croyden. "It's no disrespect in a Marylander, I take it, when he compares the ladies with his race-horses."

"It's not, sir! At least, that's the way we of the older generation feel; our ladies and our horses run pretty close together. But that spirit is fast disappearing, sir! The younger ones are becoming--commercialized, if you please. It's dollars first, and _then_ the ladies, with them--and the horses nowhere. Though I don't say it's not wise. Horses and the war have almost broken us, sir. We lost the dollars, or forgot about them and they lost themselves, whichever way it was, sir. It's right that our sons should start on a new track and run the course in their own way--Yes, sir," suddenly recollecting himself, "Miss Carrington's a pretty girl, and so's Miss Tayloe and Miss Las.h.i.+el and a heap more.

Indeed, sir, Hampton is famed on the Eastern Sho' for her women. I'll attend to your baggage, and the telephone, sir, and if there is anything else I can do, pray command me. Drop in and see me when you get up town. Good day, sir, good day." And removing his hat with a bow just a little less deferential than the one he had given to Miss Carrington, he proceeded up the street, leisurely and deliberately, as though the world were waiting for him.

"And he is a real estate agent!" reflected Croyden. "The man who, according to our way of thinking, is the acme of hustle and bustle and business, and schemes to trap the unwary. Truly, the Eastern Sh.o.r.e has much to learn--or we have much to unlearn! Well, I have tried the one--and failed. Now, I'm going to try the other. It seems to promise a quiet life, at least."

He turned, to find Moses in the doorway, waiting.

"Marster Croyden," he said, "shall I puts yo satchel an' things in de Cun'l's room, seh?"

Croyden nodded. He did not know which was the Colonel's room, but it was likely to be the best in the house, and, moreover, it was well to follow him wherever he could.

"And see that my luggage is taken there, when the man brings it," he directed--"and tell Josephine to have luncheon at one and dinner at seven."

The darky hesitated.

"De Cun'l hed dinner in de middle o' de day, seh," he said, as though Croyden had inadvertently erred.

And Croyden appreciating the situation, answered:

"Well, you see, Moses, I've been used to the other way and I reckon you will have to change to suit me."

"Ya.s.s, seh! ya.s.s, seh! I tell Jose. Lunch is de same as supper, I s'pose, seh?"

Croyden had to think a moment.

"Yes," he said, "that will answer--like a light supper."

"There may be an objection, after all, to taking over Colonel Duval's old servants," he reflected. "It may be difficult to persuade them that he is no longer the master. I run the chance of being ruled by a dead man."

Presently his luggage arrived, and he went upstairs to unpack. Moses looked, in wonder, at the wardrobe trunk, with every suit on a separate hanger, the drawers for s.h.i.+rts and linen, the apartments for hats, and collars, and neckties, and the shoes standing neatly in a row below.

"Whar's de use atak'in de things out t'al, Marster Croyden!" he exclaimed.

"So as to put the trunk away."

"Sho'! I mo'nt a kno'd hit. Hit's mons'us strange, seh, whar yo mon't a' kno'd ef yo'd only stop to t'ink. F' instance, I mon't a kno'd yo'd c.u.m back to Clarendon, seh, some day, cuz yo spends yo money on hit.

Heh!"

Then a bell tinkled softly from below.

"Dyar's dinner--I means lunch, seh," said Moses. "'Scuse me, seh."

"And I'm ready for it," said Croyden, as he went to the iron wash-stand, and then slowly down stairs to the dining-room.

From some place, Moses had resurrected a white coat, yellow with its ten years' rest, and was waiting to receive him. He drew out Croyden's chair, as only a family servant of the olden times can do it, and bowed him into his place.

The table was set exactly as in Colonel Duval's day, and very prettily set, Croyden thought, with napery spotless, and china that was thin and fine. The latter, if he had but known it, was Lowestoft and had served the Duvals, on that very table, for much more than a hundred years.

There was cold ham, and cold chicken, lettuce with mayonnaise, deviled eggs, preserves, with hot corn bread and tea. When Croyden had about finished a leisurely meal, it suddenly occurred to him that however completely stocked Clarendon was with things of the Past, they did not apply to the larder, and _these_ victuals were undoubtedly fresh and particularly good.

"By the way! Moses," he said, "I'm glad you were thoughtful enough to send out and purchase these things," with an indicating motion to the table. "They are very satisfactory."

"Pu'chase!" said the darky, in surprise. "Dese things not pu'chased.

No, seh! Dey's borro'd, seh, from Majah Bo'den's, ya.s.s, seh!"

"Good G.o.d!" Croyden exclaimed. "You don't mean you borrowed my luncheon!"

"Ya.s.s, seh! Why not, seh? Jose jes' went ovah an' sez to Ca.s.sie--she's de cook, at de Majah's, seh--sez she, Marster Croyden don' c.u.m and warns some'n to eat. An' she got hit, ya.s.s, seh!"

"Is it the usual thing, here, to borrow an entire meal from the neighbor's?" asked Croyden.

"Sut'n'y, seh! We borrows anything we needs from the neighbors, an'

they does de same wid us."

"Well, I don't want any borrowing by _us_, Moses, please remember,"

said Croyden, emphatically. "The neighbors can borrow anything we have, and welcome, but we won't claim the favor from them, you understand?"

"Ya.s.s, seh!" said the old darky, wonderingly.