Diana - Warner Susan

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cap was a soldier's cap. But it was not on his head just now; it had come off since he quitted the gate; and the step with which he drew near was the very contrast to Joe Bartlett's lounging pace; this was measured, clean, compact, and firm, withal as light and even as that of an antelope. His hair showed the regulation cut; and Diana saw with the same glance a pair of light, brilliant, hazel eyes and a finely trimmed mustache. She stood flushed and still, halter in hand, with her sun-bonnet pushed a little back for air. The stranger smiled just a little.

      "May I ask how far I am from a place called Elmfield?"

      "It is"—Diana's thoughts wandered—"It is five miles."

      "I ought not to need to ask—but I have been so long away.—Do you know how or where I can get a horse, or any conveyance, to bring me there? I have ridden beyond this, and met with an accident."

      Diana hesitated. "Is it Lieut. Knowlton?" she said.

      "Ah, you know me?" said he. "I forgot that Pleasant Valley knows me better than I know Pleasant Valley. I did not count on finding a friend here." His eye glanced at the little brown house.

      "Everybody knows Elmfield," said Diana; "and I guessed—"

      "From my dress?" said Mr. Knowlton, following the direction of her look. "This was accident too. But which of my friends ought I to know here, that I don't know? Pardon me—but is this horse to be put to the waggon or taken away from it?"

      "O, I was going to put him in."

      "Allow me"—said the young man, taking the halter from Diana's willing hands; "but where is the harnessing gear?"

      "O, that is in the barn!" exclaimed Diana. "I will go and fetch it."

      "Pray no! Let me get it," said her companion; and giving the end of the halter a turn round one of the thills, he had overtaken her before she had well taken half a dozen steps. They went together through the barnyard. Diana found the harness, and the young officer threw it over his shoulder with a smile at her which answered her deprecating words; a smile extremely pleasant and gentlemanly, if withal a little arch. Diana shrank back somewhat before the glance, which to her fancy showed the power of keen observation along with the habit of giving orders. They went back to the elm, and Mr. Knowlton harnessed the horse, Diana explaining in a word or two the necessity under which she had been acting.

      "And what about my dilemma?" said he presently, as his task was finished.

      "There is no horse or waggon you could get anywhere, that I know of," said Diana. "The teams are apt to be in use just now. But I am going down to within a mile of Elmfield; and I was going to say, if you like, I can take you so far."

      "And who will do me such kindness?"

      "Who? O—Diana Starling."

      "Is that a name I ought to know?" inquired Mr. Knowlton. "I shall know it from this day; but how about before to-day? I have been gone from Pleasant Valley, at school and at the Military Academy, four, five—ten years."

      "Mother came back here to live just ten years ago."

      "My conscience is clear!" he said, smiling. "I was beginning to whip myself. Now are we ready?"

      Not quite, for Diana went into the house for her gloves and a straw hat; she made no other change in her dress, having taken off her apron before she set out after Prince. She found her new friend standing with the reins in his hand, as if he were to drive and not she; and Diana was helped into her own waggon with a deferential courtesy which up to that time she had only read of in books; nor known much even so. It silenced her at first. She sat down as mute as a child; and Mr. Knowlton handled Prince and the waggon and all in the style of one that knew how and had the right.

      That drive, however, was not to be silent or stiff in any degree. Mr. Knowlton, for his part, had no shyness or hesitation belonging to him. He had seen the world and learnt its freedom. Diana was only a simple country girl, and had never seen the world; yet she was as little troubled with embarrassment of any sort. Partly this was, no doubt, because of her sound, healthy New England nature; the solid self-respect which does not need—nor use—to put itself in the balance with anything else to be assured of its own quality. But part belonged to Diana's own personalty; in a simple, large nature, too simple and too large to feel small motives or to know petty issues. If her cheeks and brow were flushed at first, it was because the sun had been hot in the lot and Prince tiresome. She was as composedly herself as ever the young officer could be. But I think each of them was a little excited by the companionship of the other.

      "Do you drive this old fellow yourself?" asked Mr. Knowlton, after a little. "But I need not ask! Of course you do. There's no difficulty. And not much danger," he added, with a tone so dry and comical that they both burst into a laugh.

      "I assure you I am very glad to have Prince," said Diana. "He is so old now that they generally let him off from the farm work. He takes mother and me to church, and stands ready for anything I want most of the time."

      "Lucky for me, too," said Mr. Knowlton. "I am afraid you will find the sun very hot!"

      "I? O no, I don't mind it at all," said Diana. "There's a nice air now.

       Where is your horse, Mr. Knowlton? you said you had an accident."

      "Yes. That was a quarter of a mile or so beyond your house."

      "And is your horse there?"

      "Must be, I think. I shall send some people to remove him."

      "Why, is he dead?"

      "I should not have left him else, Miss Starling."

      Diana did not choose to go on with a string of questions; and her companion hesitated.

      "It's my own fault," he said with a sort of displeased half laugh; "a piece of boyish thoughtlessness that I've paid for. There was a nice red cow lying in the middle of the road"—

      "Where?" said Diana, wondering.

      "Just ahead of me; a few rods. She was lying quite quietly, taking her morning siesta in the sun; plunged in ruminative thoughts, I supposed, and the temptation was irresistible to go over without disturbing her."

      "Over her?" said Diana in a maze.

      "Yes. I counted on what one should never count on—what I didn't know."

      "What was that?"

      "Whether it would occur to her to get upon her legs, just at that moment."

      "And she did?" inquired Diana.

      "She did."

      "What did that do, Mr. Knowlton?"

      "Threw my poor steed off his legs forever!" And here, in despite of his vexation, which was real and apparent, the young man burst into a laugh. Diana had not got at his meaning.

      "And where were you, Mr. Knowlton?"

      "On his back. I shall never forgive myself for being such a boy. Don't you understand? The creature rose up just in time to be in the way of my leap, and we were thrown over—my horse and I."

      "Thrown! You were not hurt, Mr. Knowlton?"

      "I deserved it, didn't? But I was nothing the worse—except for losing my horse, and my self-complacency."

      "Was the horse killed?"

      "No; not by the fall. But he was injured; so that I saw the best thing to do would be to put him out of life at once; so I did it. I had my pistols; I often ride with them, to be ready for any sport that may offer. I am very much ashamed, to have to tell you this story of myself!"

      There was so much of earnestness in the expression of the last sentence, it was said with such a deferential contrition, if I may so speak, that Diana's thoughts experienced a diversion from the subject that had occasioned them. The contrition came more home than the fault. By common consent they went off to other matters of talk. Diana explained and commented on the history and

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