An early start to Smellie's Brook was accomplished, and in circumstances
even more favourable than had been anticipated. Dr Everett had risen
early and breakfasted with the fishing party, and he volunteered to
drive as many as could "pile in" to the double buggy to the nearest
point on Smellie's Hill that could be reached on wheels. The elder boys
were inclined to refuse the offer; but the doctor said,--
"The fields are wet with dew, and the lunch-basket is heavy; and you
must consider that you have a lady with you."
"Well, I guess we'd better go in the buggy a part of the way," said
Amos, the leader, after awhile.
The dewy fields would not have been agreeable to walk in, but they were
beautiful to see, and so were the woods, into which after awhile the
narrow road took them. The boys' eyes were quick to see and their ears
to hear, and the sights and sounds of the early morning were not lost
upon them. Fidelia was silent, but her spirits rose as she listened to
the talk between the doctor and the boys; and she laughed as merrily as
any of them before they reached Smellie's Hill.
"If you don't feel as if you were going to have a good time, Fidelia,
you can drive back again with me, and let the boys go on alone," said
Dr Everett, as he stopped at the steepest part of the hill to let the
boys alight.
"Go back with you! No, indeed! I _am_ going to have a good time. I
feel better already."
"You look better. I am glad you came. And look here, little girl,
don't you worry about Eunice. Don't you know that nothing in the world
can hurt Eunice? If there is any room for anxiety between you, it is
Eunice who might worry about you. But she doesn't, and need not, I
hope. At any rate all is well with Eunice."
A shadow fell on Fidelia's face, and her eyes drooped beneath the
doctor's glance.
"Yes; she tells me she is pretty well now, but--"
The colour which the morning air had brought to her cheeks deepened as
she looked up and met the doctor's eye, but she said no more, nor did
he. They had by this time reached Smellie's Hill, and the doctor was
going no further.
"If I had had time to think about things, I believe I should have taken
the day and gone with you to the brook," said he, as the boys were
taking basket and rods from the buggy.
"Oh, couldn't you possibly come?" said Fidelia eagerly; and the boys
joined their entreaties to hers. It was not to be thought of, however,
for he "was due elsewhere." They watched him as he drove down the hill,
and he would have smiled if he had heard all that was said of him before
they took up their baskets and rods again.
Then they turned and took the path through Smellie's pasture that leads
to the woods and the rocky ledge beyond; and when they came within sound
of the murmur of the brook, they hastened their steps.
"Fall and spring it is like a river, though it doesn't look much now,"
said Amos, as they came in sight of it.
It did not "look much" truly. A brooklet winding its way among rocks
and stones, over which one might leap or even step at most places, but
with here and there a pool which looked dark and deep enough to be the
hiding-place of many a speckled beauty. And they had good proof of this
before the day was done.
It was a good day for Fidelia; in the success and in the enjoyment she
had a full share, though she acknowledged to herself that she did not
deserve either. As the time went on she became more and more ashamed of
the morbid feelings which had made her so eager to get away from the
house and from all who were in it.
What was the matter with her? Was she envious of those other girls, who
led such easy lives and had so many advantages? Could it be that she
was so utterly ungrateful as to forget how full of good things her life
had been made by the sister who had had so little in her own life but
labour and care for others, yet who had accepted her lot, not with
submission merely, but with sweet content and cheerfulness? Was it for
Eunice she was jealous? Remembering the sudden indignation which had
seized her at the first glimpse she had got of Dr Justin, smiling down
on the pretty upturned face of Miss Avery, she could not deny it. Even
now she grew angry as she thought about it.
Would Eunice have been angry if she had seen them? Had she suffered
very much in giving up her happy prospects long ago? And afterwards,
when she knew that another had taken the place in Justin Everett's home
which ought to have been hers, had she suffered? Had she forgiven him,
or had she forgotten him? They seemed to be friends now--she knew that
from her sister's letters: would they ever be more than friends? That
would be the right ending, Fidelia thought, but the thought did not give
her unmixed pleasure.
"I should lose Eunice," she said to herself; "and I am not sure that I
like her Dr Justin very well." And then she laughed--"I am getting on
pretty fast, I think. Well, I can wait. Eunice will tell me at the
right time if there be anything to tell. I won't worry about her. Dr
Everett is right. Nothing in the world can hurt Eunice much. I only
wish that I were like her."
Did she really wish it? She was not sure, and she was not ready to
consider the question at that moment.
All these thoughts had been passing through her mind as she followed
Amos along the margin of the brook; and when they stopped at Big Rock to
arrange where each one was to go, not one was more eager and pleased
with the prospects of the day than she.
The sky became overcast, which was a matter of rejoicing; the same could
not be said of the threatening rain. But not enough fell to do any
harm, and for fishing the day was pronounced perfect. When there are
four rods, and only one basket for the fish, even moderate success tells
quickly; and before Franky "guessed it was most time for lunch," there
was a good show of trout.
It was decided that, to save time, they should not make a fire and feed
upon the fish, but content themselves with what was to be found in
cousin Abby's basket, which they might very well do. But they forgot
about saving time, for they fell into a real boys' talk,--about hunting
and fishing and adventures of all kinds, which made them forget how time
was passing, and then they found that Franky had fallen asleep with his
head on Fidelia's lap.
"I think we must let him have his sleep out," said Fidelia; "you
remember, cousin Abby said we must be careful not to let him get too
tired. You two go away to your fishing, and when Franky wakes we will
follow you up the brook."
"But it is too bad you should lose your sport," said Ned.
"He won't sleep long. And, see, I have a book."
So the boys set off, and Fidelia had a quiet two hours with her book,--
which ought to have been Butler's "Analogy," considering her next year's
work at the seminary, but which was "Astoria"--much more appropriate for
the time and place. Franky woke rested and much the better for his nap,
but indignant at being allowed to lose so much time. But he forgot his
vexation in the pleasure of listening to a story Fidelia told, and which
lasted till they came in sight of Amos, happy and successful as ever,
but a little tired also. So they sat down to rest and enjoy another
lunch, and to talk about things in general.
Fidelia knew how to talk to boys. She knew every tree in the woods, and
the note of every bird which chirped among the branches. She knew
something about most plants that grew in field or wood, so there was no
danger of falling out of talk. The boys were interested in what they
heard, and each had something to tell. By-and-by Franky said--
"How many brothers have you, Miss Faithful?"
"Not one! I never had a brother."
"Well, they would have had good times, if you had."