"Does it pain you, sir?"
"Thank you--no."
"Yet it bleeds! You say it was not your horse, sir?" she inquired,
wonderfully innocent of eye.
"No, it was not my horse."
"Why, then--pray, how did it happen?"
"Happen, madam?--why, I fancy I must have--scratched myself,"
returned Barnabas, beginning to wring out his neckerchief.
"Scratched yourself. Ah! of course!" said she, and was silent while
Barnabas continued to wring the water from his neckerchief.
"Pray," she inquired suddenly, "do you often scratch yourself--until
you bleed?--'t is surely a most distressing habit." Now glancing up
suddenly, Barnabas saw her eyes were wonderfully bright for all her
solemn mouth, and suspicion grew upon him.--"Did she know? Had she
seen?" he wondered.
"Nevertheless, sir--my thanks are due to you--"
"For what?" he inquired quickly.
"Why--for--for--"
"For bringing you here?" he suggested, beginning to wring out his
neckerchief again.
"Yes; believe me I am more than grateful for--for--"
"For what, madam?" he inquired again, looking at her now.
"For--your--kindness, sir."
"Pray, how have I been kind?--you refused my neckerchief."
Surely he was rather an unpleasant person after all, she thought,
with his persistently direct eyes, and his absurdly blunt mode of
questioning--and she detested answering questions.
"Sir," said she, with her dimpled chin a little higher than usual,
"it is a great pity you troubled yourself about me, or spoilt your
neckerchief with water."
"I thought you were hurt, you see--"
"Oh, sir, I grieve to disappoint you," said she, and rose, and
indeed she gained her feet with admirable grace and dignity
notwithstanding her recent fall, and the hampering folds of her habit;
and now Barnabas saw that she was taller than he had thought.
"Disappoint me!" repeated Barnabas, rising also; "the words are
unjust."
For a moment she stood, her head thrown back, her eyes averted
disdainfully, and it was now that Barnabas first noticed the dimple
in her chin, and he was yet observing it very exactly when he became
aware that her haughtiness was gone again and that her eyes were
looking up at him, half laughing, half shy, and of course wholly
bewitching.
"Yes, I know it was," she admitted, "but oh! won't you please
believe that a woman can't fall off her horse without being hurt,
though it won't bleed much." Now as she spoke a distant clock began
to strike and she to count the strokes, soft and mellow with distance.