THE LOCKED BRIDGE.
"Well. I never!"' Gladys sat down on the bank of the little stream and gazed despairingly at the rustic bridge above her. "If that isn't just like him ! 'No thoroughfare,' and the gate locked and too high to climb. Now, what on earth am I to do, anyway?' 1 The whispering wind ancl the lapping waves gave her no reply, and, pulling a letter out, of the front of her blouse, she read it for the third or fourth time thai day. It seemed to restore her self-confi-dence. She laughed to herself wickedly. " Hum ! Mrs Graham is a dear, but I fancy I've fooled that conceited Jack _of hers. No, thank you! No four -mile drive ■with him. I'm down here to be sure, but I won't speak two words to him all the time I stay if I can help it ! So ! Oh, dear ! I wish I had a boat !"
As if in answer to her desire, a red canoe shot out from beyond the bend and came noiselessly down "the river. A man sat in the stern wielding the paddle with ii> swift grace. Gladys arose among the long grass and the daisies. Her mind was made up.
" I beg pardon, she called as he came abreast of her. " Can you tell me if there is a. way of getting to Mr Graham's estate except "by this bridge? It seems to be closed.''
The man in the canoe rested his paddle across his knees and gazed at her admiringly. •' Why. I," he began, then stopped. " There is an approach by the road," he said, " but it is quite two miles to the other side." "Oh," she said. "I know! But I've walked so far already."' She glanced ruefully down at her dusty patent leather toes. "Would you allow me?"' he asked eagerly. " I could take you across in my canoe."' She blushed charmingly. "I hate to trouble you. ' " I assure you it would give me the greatest pleasure," he said, with another admiring glauce. With a dexterous stroke or two he brought the graceful little craft up to the bank ancl landed. He was tall and brown and broad-shouldered, and as he stood looking- down at her he saw a. little slender girl with the longest eyleashes that ever drooped over a pair of grey eyes, in a, dark blue foulard, baieheaded in the golden sunlight, a big, black hat held in one hand. On her 1 forehead and around her ears little truant wisps of curly hair. He helped her into the canoe and piled the gay" cushions "at her back, then stepped in after her.
"Where are you going,"' she asked, as he pointed the canoe up stream. "I understood you to say you would take me across," she added, with some stateliness. '■ That's such a, nasty place to land," he replied apologetically.' "It's*Miuch better a little farther up."' His dark eyes sought hers and they both laughed. It was obvious to the most casual observer that the sloping shore on the other side was most admirably adapted for beaching the canoe. "You seem well acquainted with the river," she said demm^ely. "Do you know the Grahams ?"' He did not answer immediately. "Yes. charming woman, Mrs Graham," he admitted at last.
"Oh, yes, lovely. It's a pity her son doesn't take after her,' 1 Gladys replied 1 with high scorn. Her companion grinned. "It's evident you know him,"' he saidi. "Weil, I haven't seen him in years, bu r . vl.en I saw him last he was absolutely the most disagreeable, most conceited, ancl altogether most hateful boy I ever came across 1 ." Gladys sat up straight 'among' her cushions with a sudden energy.
'"Poor Jack!" murmured her companion. "Still, if you haven't seen him foi years, it isn't impossible that he has improved."
"Improved ! Well, I'm sure I hope so. There certainly was roo-m for lmprov-e-mett* . But I don't believe he has. The idea of shutting people out by locking up that bridge the way he has. It's just like him. So afraid anyone would get into his domains. Just as though anyone with sense would want to."'
''Fxactly. But possibly he wants to keep out that class of people supposed to oe braver than angels, you know."
Then they
'"'Fools?" she questioned, both laughed again.
"You're not very polite-," she sa.id
''How can you expect me to be sympathetic when the bridge being locked has given me this pleasure?"' "Oh !"' she exclaimed, with incredulous ev?s. "Anyway. I forgive yor. But if Id had my way I shouldn't have been here at all."
'"Now, it's you who is impolite,' 1 he saM.
"Yes; and ungiateful," she admitted frankly. "It's simply lovely out here. It's the only pleasant thing about the whole trip. Goodn^s! If you only knew how I hated to come. I wept day and night for weeks. But mother was adamant."
He looked ot her appreciatively", wondering how any human being could be proof against eyes like those filled with tears.
""\loUler3 are inconsistent at times," he said. "Mine, for instance, has been systematically indulging and spoiling me all my life, and now has taken it into her head that I imist marry a girl she has picked out for me whether I want to or not."
"Wby, that's jusb the question on which mother and I differed,' 3 Gladys gasped. "She and \vs mother arranged it all years ago, it seem?, and he's unmanly enough to keep her to her word, though he must know I hate him. You wouldn't fiiuLa girl doing a thing like that !"'
"Wouldn't you, though? This particular young lady of whom I speak is of 60 clinging a disposition that, according to my mother, she will n?ver know happiness unless I brace up and woo. Why in thunder she should be in love \rith a man she Lnsn'fc teen since she was .a child' is more
than I can conceive!" He paddled angrily for a moment. Then once again his eyes met hers and they laughed. "We seem to be figuratively as well as literally in the same boat,'' she remarked. "The thought makes me quite fond of you. 1 ' "Ah, if I could but believe you in earnest !"' he sighed with exaggerated gallantry. She darted him another look from under her lashes.
"Were'nt you smoking when I called to you?' 1 she asked presently. "Why, there's your pipe. Do let me fill it for you. I love to fuss with pipes." 'Ts all I need to complete my happiness," he assured her, as he handed her his pipe. "My pouch is in the left-hand pocket of my coat. Can you get it? It's right behind you there." She leaned back and secured the thin serge coat, rummaged in his pocket, and brought forth a chamois pouch elaboratelyembroidered with the initials "J. G." in crimson. She looked at the inscription for a moment, then at its owner.
He watched her as she pressed the tobacco into the bowl with a delicate thumb. "There," she said, as she handed! it to him. "Lean over and I'll light it for you. ' She shaded the sputtering match with her hand, and applied the flame to the tobacco. Her face was very near his, and It was a face to set a man longing.
She settled herself once more among the cushions. "Isn't this comfy?" she sighed with satisfaction. "When I remember that walk from Digby in all the dust I can't realise it's me !"
"Great Scott ! Did you walk from Digby?"
"Yes. You see they wrote that a certain person would meet me at Grahamsford, so I got out at Digby and walked. Anything was better than a four-mile ride withi— the person who was coming to meet me. That's why I am here.
"What a coincidence !" he exclaimed, aa he knocked the ashes from his pipe. "At this moment I am supposed to be driving home from Grahamsford with a young lady whom I didn't want to meet. That's why I'm there !"
She was busy watching the ripples that followed the canoe.
"It appears to me our mothers have been fibbing," she said, musingly. "Bless their hearts !" he exclaimed, fervently. "I forgive tl em, don't you? Besides, I am just discovering that your mother, at least, spoke the truth. And I mean to bo obedient in all things from this time forth for ever more," 'he added, boldly.
"Amen," she s?.ld, with mock solemnity. "But how self-sacrificing!" Then with a, look that set diis heart beating. "Well. 1 wil? not be outdone in filial devotion." Her lashes flickered against her reddening cheek. With one stroke he beached the canoe "among the shadows of the trees.
An hour later Mrs Graham came to meet them down the long avenue bordered with oaks.
"My dear children !" she cried joyfully. "I see it is all right. I knew tthat ride from the station would be just the thing !"
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Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2676, 28 June 1905, Page 82
Word Count
1,498THE LOCKED BRIDGE. Otago Witness, Issue 2676, 28 June 1905, Page 82
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