Produced by Suzanne Shell, William Bumgarner and PG Distributed
Proofreaders
1886
There was a wide entrance gate to the old family mansion of Midbranch,but it was never opened to admit the family or visitors; althoughoccasionally a load of wood, drawn by two horses and two mules, camebetween its tall chestnut posts, and was taken by a roundabout way amongthe trees to a spot at the back of the house, where the chips of severalgenerations of sturdy wood-choppers had formed a ligneous soil deeperthan the arable surface of any portion of the nine hundred and fiftyacres which formed the farm of Midbranch. This seldom opened gate was ina corner of the lawn, and the driving of carriages, or the riding ofhorses through it to the porch at the front of the house would have beenthe ruin of the short, thick grass which had covered that lawn, it wasgenerally believed, ever since Virginia became a State.
But there had to be some way for people who came in carriages or onhorseback to get into the house, and therefore the fence at the bottomof the lawn, at a point directly in front of the porch, was crossed by aset of broad wooden steps, five outside and five inside, with a platformat the top. These stairs were wide enough to accommodate eight peopleabreast; so that if a large carriage load of visitors arrived, none ofthem need delay in crossing the fence. At the outside of the steps ranthe narrow road which entered the plantation a quarter of a mile away,and passed around the lawn and the garden to the barns and stables atthe back.
On the other side of the road, undivided from it by hedge or fence,stretched, like a sea gently moved by a groundswell, a vast field,sometimes planted in tobacco, and sometimes in wheat. In the midst ofthis field stood a tall persimmon tree which yearly dropped itshalf-candied fruit upon the first light snow of the winter. It is truethat persimmons, quite fit to eat, were to be found on this tree at anearlier period than this, but such fruit was never noticed by the peoplein those parts, who would not rudely wrench from Jack Frost his onelittle claim to rivalry with the sun as a fruit-ripener. To the right ofthe field was a wide extent of pasture land, running down to a smallstream, or "branch," which, flowing between two other streams of thesame kind a mile or two on either side of it, had given its name to theplace. In front, to the left, lay a great forest of chestnut, oak,sassafras, and sweet gum, with here and there a clump of tall pines,standing up straight and stiff with an air of Puritanic condemnation ofthe changing fashions of the foliage about them.
On one side of the platform of the broad stile, which has beenmentioned, sat one summer afternoon, the lady of the house. She was ayoung woman, and although her face was a good deal shadowed by herfar-spreading hat, it was easy to perceive that she was a handsome one.She was the niece of Mr Robert Brandon, the elderly bachelor who ownedMidbranch; and her mother, long since dead, had called her Roberta,which was as near as she could come to the name of her only brother.
Miss Roberta's father was a man whose mind and time were entirely givenup to railroads; and although he nominally lived in New York, he was,for the greater part of the year, engaged in endeavors to forward hisinterests somewhere west of the Mississippi. Two or three months of thewinter were generally spent in his city home. At these times he had hisdaughter with him, but the rest of the y