the golden road-第3节

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lots　of　presents。'　　But　she　didn't。　　She　wasn't　as　prudent　as　Felicity　King　would　have　been。〃

〃She　was　a　shameless　hussy；〃　said　Felicity；　venting　on　the　long…　dead　Ursula　that　anger　she　dare　not　visit　on　the　Story　Girl。

〃Oh；　no；　Felicity　dear；　she　was　just　a　lass　of　spirit。　　I'd　have　done　the　same。　　And　when　Friday　night　came　she　began　to　dress　for　the　dance　with　a　brave　heart。　　She　was　to　go　to　The　Springs　with　her　uncle　and　aunt；　who　were　coming　on　horseback　that　afternoon；　and　would　then　go　on　to　The　Springs　in　old　Hugh's　carriage；　which　was　the　only　one　in　Carlyle　then。　　They　were　to　leave　in　time　to　reach　The　Springs　before　nightfall；　for　the　October　nights　were　dark　and　the　wooded　roads　rough　for　travelling。

〃When　Ursula　was　ready　she　looked　at　herself　in　the　glass　with　a　good　deal　of　satisfaction。　　Yes；　Felicity；　she　was　a　vain　baggage；　that　same　Ursula；　but　that　kind　didn't　all　die　out　a　hundred　years　ago。　　And　she　had　good　reason　for　being　vain。　　She　wore　the　sea…　green　silk　which　had　been　brought　out　from　England　a　year　before　and　worn　but　onceat　the　Christmas　ball　at　Government　House。　　A　fine；　stiff；　rustling　silk　it　was；　and　over　it　shone　Ursula's　crimson　cheeks　and　gleaming　eyes；　and　masses　of　nut　brown　hair。

〃As　she　turned　from　the　glass　she　heard　her　father's　voice　below；　loud　and　angry。　　Growing　very　pale；　she　ran　out　into　the　hall。　　Her　father　was　already　half　way　upstairs；　his　face　red　with　fury。　　In　the　hall　below　Ursula　saw　her　step…mother；　looking　troubled　and　vexed。　　At　the　door　stood　Malcolm　Ramsay；　a　homely　neighbour　youth　who　had　been　courting　Ursula　in　his　clumsy　way　ever　since　she　grew　up。　　Ursula　had　always　hated　him。

〃'Ursula！'　shouted　old　Hugh；　'come　here　and　tell　this　scoundrel　he　lies。　　He　says　that　you　met　Kenneth　MacNair　in　the　beechgrove　last　Tuesday。　　Tell　him　he　lies！　　Tell　him　he　lies！'

〃Ursula　was　no　coward。　　She　looked　scornfully　at　poor　Ramsay。

〃'The　creature　is　a　spy　and　a　tale…bearer；'　she　said；　'but　in　this　he　does　not　lie。　　I　DID　meet　Kenneth　MacNair　last　Tuesday。'

〃'And　you　dare　to　tell　me　this　to　my　face！'　roared　old　Hugh。　　'Back　to　your　room；　girl！　　Back　to　your　room　and　stay　there！　　Take　off　that　finery。　　You　go　to　no　more　dances。　　You　shall　stay　in　that　room　until　I　choose　to　let　you　out。　　No；　not　a　word！　　I'll　put　you　there　if　you　don't　go。　　In　with　youay；　and　take　your　knitting　with　you。　　Occupy　yourself　with　that　this　evening　instead　of　kicking　your　heels　at　The　Springs！'

〃He　snatched　a　roll　of　gray　stocking　from　the　hall　table　and　flung　it　into　Ursula's　room。　　Ursula　knew　she　would　have　to　follow　it；　or　be　picked　up　and　carried　in　like　a　naughty　child。　　So　she　gave　the　miserable　Ramsay　a　look　that　made　him　cringe；　and　swept　into　her　room　with　her　head　in　the　air。　　The　next　moment　she　heard　the　door　locked　behind　her。　　Her　first　proceeding　was　to　have　a　cry　of　anger　and　shame　and　disappointment。　　That　did　no　good；　and　then　she　took　to　marching　up　and　down　her　room。　　It　did　not　calm　her　to　hear　the　rumble　of　the　carriage　out　of　the　gate　as　her　uncle　and　aunt　departed。

〃'Oh；　what's　to　be　done？'　she　sobbed。　　'Kenneth　will　be　furious。　　He　will　think　I　have　failed　him　and　he　will　go　away　hot　with　anger　against　me。　　If　I　could　only　send　a　word　of　explanation　I　know　he　would　not　leave　me。　　But　there　seems　to　be　no　way　at　allthough　I　have　heard　that　there's　always　a　way　when　there's　a　will。　　Oh；　I　shall　go　mad！　　If　the　window　were　not　so　high　I　would　jump　out　of　it。　　But　to　break　my　legs　or　my　neck　would　not　mend　the　matter。'

〃The　afternoon　passed　on。　　At　sunset　Ursula　heard　hoof…beats　and　ran　to　the　window。　　Andrew　Kinnear　of　The　Springs　was　tying　his　horse　at　the　door。　　He　was　a　dashing　young　fellow；　and　a　political　crony　of　old　Hugh。　　No　doubt　he　would　be　at　the　dance　that　night。　　Oh；　if　she　could　get　speech　for　but　a　moment　with　him！

〃When　he　had　gone　into　the　house；　Ursula；　turning　impatiently　from　the　window；　tripped　and　almost　fell　over　the　big　ball　of　homespun　yarn　her　father　had　flung　on　the　floor。　　For　a　moment　she　gazed　at　it　resentfullythen；　with　a　gay　little　laugh；　she　pounced　on　it。　　The　next　moment　she　was　at　her　table；　writing　a　brief　note　to　Kenneth　MacNair。　　When　it　was　written；　Ursula　unwound　the　gray　ball　to　a　considerable　depth；　pinned　the　note　on　it；　and　rewound　the　yarn　over　it。　　A　gray　ball；　the　color　of　the　twilight；　might　escape　observation；　where　a　white　missive　fluttering　down　from　an　upper　window　would　surely　be　seen　by　someone。　　Then　she　softly　opened　her　window　and　waited。

〃It　was　dusk　when　Andrew　went　away。　　Fortunately　old　Hugh　did　not　come　to　the　door　with　him。　　As　Andrew　untied　his　horse　Ursula　threw　the　ball　with　such　good　aim　that　it　struck　him；　as　she　had　meant　it　to　do；　squarely　on　the　head。　　Andrew　looked　up　at　her　window。　　She　leaned　out；　put　her　finger　warningly　on　her　lips；　pointed　to　the　ball；　and　nodded。　　Andrew；　looking　somewhat　puzzled；　picked　up　the　ball；　sprang　to　his　saddle；　and　galloped　off。

〃So　far；　well；　thought　Ursula。　　But　would　Andrew　understand？　　Would　he　have　wit　enough　to　think　of　exploring　the　big；　knobby　ball　for　its　delicate　secret？　　And　would　he　be　at　the　dance　after　all？

〃The　evening　dragged　by。　　Time　had　never　seemed　so　long　to　Ursula。　　She　could　not　rest　or　sleep。　　It　was　midnight　before　she　heard　the　patter　of　a　handful　of　gravel　on　her　window…panes。　　In　a　trice　she　was　leaning　out。　　Below　in　the　darkness　stood　Kenneth　MacNair。

〃'Oh；　Kenneth；　did　you　get　my　letter？　　And　is　it　safe　for　you　to　be　here？'

〃'Safe　enough。　　Your　father　is　in　bed。　　I've　waited　two　hours　down　the　road　for　his　light　to　go　out；　and　an　extra　half…hour　to　put　him　to　sleep。　　The　horses　are　there。　　Slip　down　and　out；　Ursula。　　We'll　make　Charlottetown　by　dawn　yet。'

〃'That's　easier　said　than　done；　lad。　　I'm　locked　in。　　But　do　you　go　out　behind　the　new　barn　and　bring　the　ladder　you　will　find　there。'

〃Five　minutes　later；　Miss　Ursula；　hooded　and　cloaked；　scrambled　soundlessly　down　the　ladder；　and　in　five　more　minutes　she　and　Kenneth　were　riding　along　the　road。

〃'There's　a　stiff　gallop　before　us；　Ursula；'　said　Kenneth。

〃'I　would　ride　to　the　world's　end　with　you；　Kenneth　MacNair；'　said　Ursula。　　Oh；　of　course　she　shouldn't　have　said　anything　of　the　sort；　Felicity。　　But　you　see　people　had　no　etiquette　departments　in　those　days。　　And　when　the　red　sunlight　of　a　fair　October　dawn　was　shining　over　the　gray　sea　The　Fair　Lady　sailed　out　of　Charlottetown　harbour。　　On　her　deck　stood　Kenneth　and　Ursula　MacNair；　and　in　her　hand；　as　a　most　precious　treasure；　the　bride　carried　a　ball　of　gray　homespun　yarn。〃

〃Well；〃　said　Dan；　yawning；　〃I　like　that　kind　of　a　story。　　Nobody　goes　and　dies　in　it；　that's　one　good　thing。〃

〃Did　old　Hugh　forgive　Ursula？〃　I　asked。

〃The　story　stopped　there　in　the　brown　book；〃　said　the　Story　Girl；　〃but　the　Awkward　Man　says　he　did；　after　awhile。〃

〃It　must　be　rather　romantic　to　be　run　away　with；〃　remarked　Cecily；　wistfully。

〃Don't　you　get　such　silly　notions　in　your　head；　Cecily　King；〃　said　Felicity；　severely。



CHAPTER　III

THE　CHRISTMAS　HARP


Great　was　the　excitement　in　the　houses　of　King　as　Christmas　drew　nigh。　　The　air　was　simply　charged　with　secrets。　　Everybody　was　very　penurious　for　weeks　beforehand　and　hoards　were　counted　scrutinizingly　every　day。　　Mysterious　pieces　of　handiwork　were　smuggled　in　and　out　of　sight；　and　whispered　consultations　were　held；　about　which　nobody　thought　of　being　jealous；　as　might　have　happened　at　any　other　time。　　Felicity　was　in　her　element；　for　she　and　her　mother　were　deep　in　preparations　for　the　day。　　Cecily　and　the　Story　Girl　were　excluded　from　these　doings　with　indifference　on　Aunt　Janet's　part　and　what　seemed　ostentatious　complacency　on　Felicity's。　　Cecily　took　this　to　heart　and　complained　to　me　about　it。

〃I'm　one　of　this　family　just　as　much　as　Felicity　is；〃　she　said；　with　as　much　indignation　as　Cecily　could　feel；　〃and　I　don't　think　she　need　shut　me　out　of　everything。　　When　I　wanted　to　stone　the　raisins　for　the　mince…meat　she　said；　no；　she　would　do　it　herself；　because　Christmas　mince…meat　was　very　particularas　if　I　couldn't　stone　raisins　right！　　The　airs　Felicity　puts　on　about　her　cooking　just　make　me　sick；〃　concluded　Cecily　wrathfully。

〃It's　a　pity　she　doesn't　make　a　mistake　in　cooking　once　in　a　while　herself；〃　I　said。　　〃Then　maybe　she　wouldn't　think　she　knew　so　much　more　than　other　people。〃

All　parcels　that　came　in　the　mail　from　distant　friends　were　taken　charge　of　by　Aunts　Janet　and　Olivia；　not　to　be　opened　until　the　great　day　of　the　feast　itself。　　How　slowly　the　last　week　passed！　But　even　watched　pots　will　boil　in　the　fulness　of　time；　and　finally　Christmas　day　came；　gray　and　dour　and　frost…bitten　without；　but　full　of　revelry　and　rose…red　mirth　within。　　Uncle　Roger　and　Aunt　Olivia　and　the　Story　Girl　came　over　early　for　the　day；　and　Peter　came　too；　with　his　shining；　morning　face；　to　be　hailed　with　joy；　for　we　had　been　afraid　that　Peter　would　not　be　able　to　spend　Christmas　with　us。　　His　mother　had　wanted　him　home　with　her。

〃Of　course　I　ought　to　go；〃　Peter　had　told　me　mournfully；　〃but　we　won't　have　turkey　for　dinner；　because　ma　can't　afford　it。　　And　ma　always　cries　on　holidays　because　she　says　they　make　her　think　of　father。　　O