“She is not likely to be down until dinner time,” he had said, “and this evening I’ll defend our cause against those other fellows.  I have several good things in my mind that I am sure will interest her, and I don’t believe there’s any use courting a girl unless you interest her.”

Lancaster had taken the advice, and had left much earlier than was usual.

CHAPTER XVI

Mr. Lancaster accepts a Mission.

When Dick Lancaster saw Olive he stopped with a start, and then ran toward her.

“Miss Asher!” he exclaimed.  “What are you doing here?  What is the matter?  You look pale.”

When she saw him coming Olive had dismounted, not with the active spring usual with her, but heavily and clumsily.  She did not even smile as she spoke to him.

“I am glad to see you, Mr. Lancaster,” she said.  “I am on my way back to Broadstone, and I would like to send a message to my uncle by you.”

“Back from where?  And why on this road?” he was about to ask, but he checked himself.  He saw that she trembled as she stood.

“Miss Asher,” said he, “you must stop and rest.  Let me take your wheel and come over to this bank and sit down.”

She sat down in the shade and took off her hat; and for a moment she quietly enjoyed the cool breeze upon her head.  He did not want to annoy her with questions, but he could not help saying: 

“You look very tired.”

“I ought to be tired,” she answered, “for I have gone over a perfectly dreadful road.  Of course, you wonder why I came this way, and the best thing for me to do is to begin at the beginning and to tell you all about it, so that you will know what I have been doing, and then understand what I would like you to do for me.”

So she told him all her tale, and, telling it, seemed to relieve her mind while her tired body rested.  Dick listened with earnest avidity.  He lost not the slightest change in her expression as she spoke.  He was shocked when he heard of her father; he was grieved when he imagined how she must have felt when the news came to her; he was angry when he heard of the impertinent glare of Maria Port; and his heart was torn when he knew of this poor girl’s disappointment, of her soul-harrowing conjectures, of her wearisome and painful progress along that rough road; of which progress she said but little, although its consequences he could plainly see.  All these things showed themselves upon his countenance as he gazed upon her and listened, not only with his ears, but his heart.

“I shall be more than glad,” he said, when she had finished, “to carry any message, or to do anything you want me to do.  But I must first relieve you of one of your troubles.  Your uncle has not the slightest idea of marrying Miss Port.  I don’t believe he would marry anybody; but, of all women, not that vulgar creature.  Let me assure you, Miss Asher, that I have heard him talk about her, and I know he has the most contemptuous opinion of her.  I have heard him make fun of her, and I don’t believe he would have anything to do with her if it were not for her father, who is one of his oldest friends.”