Audrey

The garden was a public one, and this gay little party, having tired of

the Indian spectacle, had repaired hither to treat of its own affairs.

Moreover, it had been there, scattered upon the grass in view of the

playhouse door, for the better part of an hour. Concerned with its own wit

and laughter, it had caught no sound of low voices issuing from the

theatre; and for the two who talked within, all outward noise had ranked

as coming from the distant, crowded fields.

A young girl, her silken apron raised to catch the clusters which a

gentleman, mounted upon a chair, threw down, gave a little scream and let

fall her purple hoard. "'Gad!" cried the gentleman. One and another

exclaimed, and a withered beauty seated beneath the mulberry-tree laughed

shrilly.

A moment, an effort, a sharp recall of wandering thoughts, and Haward had

the situation in hand. An easy greeting to the gentlemen, debonair

compliments for the ladies, a question or two as to the entertainment they

had left, then a negligent bringing forward of Audrey. "A little brown

ward and ancient playmate of mine,--shot up in the night to be as tall as

a woman. Make thy curtsy, child, and go tell the minister what I have said

on the subject he wots of."

Audrey curtsied and went away, having never raised her eyes to note the

stare of curiosity, the suppressed smile, the glance from eye to eye,

which had trod upon her introduction to the company. Haward, remaining

with his friends and acquaintances, gathered grapes for the blooming girl

and the withered beauty, and for a little, smiling woman who was known for

as arrant a scandalmonger as could be found in Virginia.