The Associate Hermits Part 21

"Good-morning," said Mr. Clyde, as he approached Mr. and Mrs. Archibald, seated opposite each other at their breakfast-table. "So you still eat together? Don't ask me to join you; I have had my breakfast."

"Yes," said Mr. Archibald, "we did think that, as we were hermits, we ought to eat in some separate, out-of-the-way fas.h.i.+on; but we could not think of any, and as we were both hungry and liked the same things, we concluded to postpone the a.s.sertion of our individualities."

"And Miss Dearborn?" asked Clyde.

"Oh, she had her breakfast long ago, so she told us," said Mrs. Archibald.

"I suppose she took some bread and jam, for I do not know what else she could have had."

"As for me," said Clyde, "I thought I would do something of the sort. I like an early breakfast, and so I turned out, more than an hour ago and went to look up Mrs. Perkenpine; and I might as well say, sir, that I am now looking for the bishop to come and help me carry our tent back to our own camp, where he is going to cook for us. I never wanted to be a trespa.s.ser on your premises, and I don't intend to be such any longer."

"That's the right feeling," said Mr. Archibald; "although, in fact, it doesn't make any difference to us whether your party camps here or not. At first I thought it would, but I find it does not."

"By which he means," said Mrs. Archibald, "that if you want to go away he is perfectly willing to have you stay, but if you don't want to go away he doesn't like it, and would have you move."

Clyde laughed. "I haven't anything to say for the others," he answered, "but as long as I have a camp of my own I think I ought to live there."

"But how about Mrs. Perkenpine?" asked Mrs. Archibald. "Did you find her willing to wait on you, one at a time?"

"Not exactly," said Clyde. "I discovered her, by her kitchen tent, hard at work eating her own breakfast. I must have looked surprised, for she lost no time in telling me that she was a hermit, and was living for one person at a time--herself first--and that she was mighty glad to get a chance to have her breakfast before anybody else, for she was always hungry and hated waiting. I looked at the table, and saw that she had the breakfast ready for the whole party; so I said, 'I am a hermit too, and I am living for myself, and so I am going to sit down and eat.' 'Squat,' said she, and down I sat; and I had the best meal of her cooking that I have yet tasted.

I told her so, and she said she shouldn't wonder. 'Because,' said she, 'I cooked this breakfast for myself--me, one--and as I wasn't thinkin' what other people 'd like, I got things a little more tasty than common, I guess.'"

"And what does she expect Miss Raybold and her brother to do?" asked Mrs.

Archibald.

"When she had finished she got up," Clyde answered, "and went away, merely remarking that the victuals were there, and when the others were ready for them they might come and get them."

"I hope," said Mr. Archibald, "that Matlack will not fancy that sort of a hermit life. But as for me, I am greatly taken with the scheme. I think I shall like it. Is Miss Raybold about yet?"

"I see nothing of her," said Clyde, looking over towards her tent.

"Good," said Mr. Archibald, rising. "Harriet, if you want me, I shall be in my cave."

"And where is that?" she asked.

"Oh, I can't say exactly where it will be," he answered, "but if you will go down to the sh.o.r.e of the lake and blow four times on the dinner-horn I'll come to you, cave and all. I can easily pull it over the water."

"You forget," said Mrs. Archibald, with a smile, "that we are a.s.sociate hermits."

"No, I do not," said her husband, "I remember it, and that is the reason I am off before Miss Raybold emerges upon the scene."

"I do not know," said Mrs. Archibald to Clyde, "exactly how I am going to a.s.sert myself to-day, but I shall do it one way or the other; I am not going to be left out in the cold."

Clyde smiled, but he had no suggestion to offer; his mind was filled with the conjecture as to what sort of a hermit life Margery was going to lead, and if she had already begun it. But just then the bishop came up, and together they went to carry the tent back to Camp Roy.

It was at least an hour afterwards, and Mrs. Archibald was comfortably seated in the shade darning stockings, with an open book in her lap.

Sometimes she would read a little in the book and then she would make some long and careful st.i.tches in the stocking, and then she would look about her as if she greatly enjoyed combining her work and her recreation in such a lovely place on such a lovely summer morning. During one of these periods of observation she perceived Corona Raybold approaching.

"Good-morning," said the elder lady. "Is this your first appearance?"

"Yes," said Corona, with a gentle smile. "When I woke this morning I found myself to be an individual who liked to lie in bed and gaze out through an open fold in my tent upon the world beyond, and so I lay and dozed and gazed, until I felt like getting up, and then I got up, and you cannot imagine how bright and happy I felt as I thought of what I had been doing.

For one morning at least I had been true to myself, without regard to other people or what they might think about it. To-morrow, if I feel like it, I shall rise at dawn, and go out and look at the stars struggling with Aurora. Whatever my personal instincts happen to be, I shall be loyal to them. Now how do you propose to a.s.sert your individuality?"

"Unfortunately," said Mrs. Archibald, "I cannot do that exactly as I would like to. If we had not promised my daughter and her husband that we would stay away for a month, I should go directly home and superintend my jelly-making and fruit-preserving; but as I cannot do that, I have determined to act out my own self here. I shall darn stockings and sew or read, and try to make myself comfortable and happy, just as I would if I were sitting on my broad piazza, at home."

"Good!" said Corona. "I think it likely that you will be more true to yourself than any of us. Doubtless you were born to be the head of a domestic household, and if you followed your own inclination you would be that if you were adrift with your family on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Now I am going away to see what further suggestions my nature has to offer me. What is Mr. Archibald doing?"

Mrs. Archibald smiled. She knew what Corona's nature would suggest if she met a man who could talk, or rather, listen. "Oh, his nature has prompted him to hie away to the haunts of game, and to stay there until he is half starved."

Miss Raybold heaved a little sigh. "I see very few persons about here,"

she said--"only the two guides, in fact."

"Yes," said Mrs. Archibald, "the bishop has gone to help Mr. Clyde with his tent."

Corona moved slowly away, and as she walked her nature suggested that she would better eat something, so she repaired to the scene of Mrs.

Perkenpine's ordinary operations. There she found that good woman stretched flat on her back on the ground, fast asleep. Her face and body were shaded by some overhanging branches, but her great feet were illumined and gilded by the blazing sun. On a camp table near by were the remains of the breakfast. It had been there for two or three hours. Arthur Raybold had taken what he wanted and had gone, and before composing herself for her nap Mrs. Perkenpine had thrown over it a piece of mosquito-netting.

Corona smiled. "Their natures are coming out beautifully," she said. "It really does me good to see how admirably the scheme is unfolding itself."

She sat down and ate what she could find to her taste, but it was not much. "I shall send for some fruit and some biscuit and some other little things," she thought, "that I can keep in my tent and eat when I please.

That will suit me much better than the ordinary meals." Then, without awakening Mrs. Perkenpine, she strolled away, directing her steps towards Camp Roy.

When Margery had gone to her room, and had changed her wet clothes, she was thoroughly miserable. For some time she sat on the side of her little cot, unwilling to go out, on account of a nervous fear that she might meet Mr. Raybold. Of course, if he should again speak to her as he had done, she would immediately appeal to Mr. Archibald, but she did not want to do this, for she had a very strong desire not to make any trouble or divisions in the camp; so she lay down to think over the matter, and in less than two minutes she was asleep. Mrs. Archibald had come to call her to breakfast, but upon being told that she had been up ever so long, and had had her breakfast, she left the girl to her nap.

"I shall sleep here," thought Margery, "until they have all gone to do whatever it is they want to do, and then perhaps I may have a little peace."

When she awoke it was nearly eleven o'clock, and she went immediately to her little side window, from which she could see the lake and a good deal of the camp-ground. The first thing which met her reconnoitering gaze was a small boat some distance out on the lake. Its oars were revolving slowly, something like a pair of wheels with one paddle each, and it was occupied by one person. This person was Arthur Raybold, who had found the bishop calking the boat, and as soon as this work was finished, had moodily declared that he would take a row in her. He had not yet had a chance to row a boat which was in a decent condition. He wanted to be alone with his aspirations. He thought it would be scarcely wise to attempt to speak to Margery again that morning; he would give her time for her anger to cool. She was only a woman, and he knew women!

"It's that Raybold," said Margery. "He knows no more about rowing than a cat, and he's floating sideways down the lake. Good! Now I can go out and hope to be let alone. I don't know when he will ever get that boat back again. Perhaps never."

She was not a wicked girl, and she did not desire that the awkward rower might never get back; but still she did not have that dread of an accident which might have come over her had the occupant of the boat been a brother or any one she cared very much about. She took a novel, of which, during her whole stay in camp, she had read perhaps ten pages, and left the cabin, this time by the door.

"How does your individuality treat you?" asked Mrs. Archibald, as Margery approached her.

"Oh, horribly, so far," was the answer; "but I think it is going to do better. I shall find some nice place where I can read and be undisturbed.

I can think of nothing pleasanter such a morning as this."

"I am very much mistaken in your nature," thought Mrs. Archibald, "if that is the sort of thing that suits you."

"Martin," said Margery, not in the least surprised that she should meet the young guide within the next three minutes, "do you know of some really nice secluded spot where I can sit and read, and not be bothered? I don't mean that place where you hung the hammock. I don't want to go there again."

Martin was pale, and his voice trembled as he spoke. "Miss Dearborn," said he, "I think it is a wicked and a burning shame that you should be forced to look for a hiding-place where you may hope to rest undisturbed if that scoundrel in the boat out there should happen to fancy to come ash.o.r.e. But you needn't do it. There is no necessity for it. Go where you please, sit where you please, and do what you please, and I will see to it that you are not disturbed."

"Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Margery. "That would never do. I know very well that you could keep him away from me, and I am quite sure that you would be glad to do it, but there mustn't be anything of that kind. He is Miss Raybold's brother and--and in a way one of our camping party, and I don't want any disturbances or quarrels."

Martin's breast heaved, and he breathed heavily. "I have no doubt you are right," he said--"of course you are. But I can tell you this: if I see that fellow troubling you again I'll kill him, or--"

"Martin! Martin!" exclaimed Margery. "What do you mean? What makes you talk in this way?"