“Thank you ever so much,” she said.  “If it had not been for you, I do not know where I should have been pulled to; but it is too bad that the horse got off, after all.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Ralph.  “I’ll have her again in no time,” and then he ran outside to join her.

“Now, sir,” said she, and giving him no time to make any proposition, “I should like very much to find your sister, and see her, for at least a few moments before I go.  Do you think she is anywhere in this glorious old barn?  Phoebe told me she was.”

“Is this a girl or a woman?” thought Ralph to himself.  The charming and fashionable costume would have settled this question in the mind of a lady, but Ralph felt a little puzzled.  But be the case what it might, it would be charming to go with her through the barn or anywhere else.  As they walked over the lower floor of the edifice toward the stairway in the corner, Dora remarked:—­

“How happy your cows ought to be, Mr. Haverley, to have such a wide, cool place as this to live in.  What kind of cows have you?”

“Indeed, I don’t know,” said Ralph, laughing.  “I haven’t had time to make their acquaintance.  I have seen them, only from a distance.  They are but a very small herd, and I am sure there are no fancy breeds among them.”

“Do you know,” said Dora, as they went up the broad steps, sprinkled with straw and hayseed, “that what are called common cows are often really better than Alderneys, or Ayrshires, and those sorts?  And this is the second story!  How splendid and vast!  What do you have here?”

“On the right are the horse stables,” said Ralph, “and in those stalls there should be a row of prancing chargers and ambling steeds; and on the great empty floor, which you see over here, there should be the carriages,—­the coupe, the family carriage, the light wagon, the pony phaeton, the top buggy, and all the other vehicles which people in the country need.  But, alas! you only see that old hay-wagon, which I am sure would fall to pieces if horses attempted to pull it, and that affair with two big wheels and a top.  I think they call it a gig, and I believe old Mr. Butterwood used to drive about in it.”

“Indeed he did,” said Dora.  “I remember seeing him when I was a little girl.  It must be very comfortable.  I should think your sister and you would enjoy driving in that.  In a gig, you know, you can go anywhere—­into wood-roads, and all sorts of places where you couldn’t turn around with anything with four wheels.  And how nice it is that it has a top.  I’ve heard it said that Mr. Butterwood would always have everything comfortable for himself.  Perhaps your sister is in some of these smaller rooms.  What are they?”

“Oh, harness rooms, and I know not what,” answered Ralph, and then he called out:—­

“Miriam!” His voice was of a full, rich tone, and it was echoed from the bare walls and floors.

“If my sister is in the barn at all,” said Ralph, “I think she must be on the floor above this, for there is the hay, and the hens’ nests, if there are any—­”