It was a busy summer in and about the farmhouse on Mount Hunger. What
with tending the chickens--there were four hundred and two in all--and
strawberry-picking and preserving, and in due season a repetition of the
process with raspberries and blackberries, the days seemed hardly long
enough to accomplish all the young people had planned.
Mr. Clyde came up for two days in June, and upon his return told Doctor
Heath that he, too, felt as if he needed that kind of a cure.
Hazel was the picture of health and fast becoming what Chi had
predicted, "an A Number 1" beauty. Her dark eyes sparkled with the joy
of life; on her rounded cheeks there was the red of the rose; the
skull-cap had been discarded, and a fine crop of soft, silky rings of
dark brown hair had taken its place.
"Never, no, never, have I had such good times," she wrote to her Cousin
Jack at Newport. "We eat on the porch, and make believe camp out in the
woods, and we ride on Bess and Bob all over the Mountain. We've about
finished the preserves and jams, and Rose has only burnt herself twice.
The chickens, Chi says, are going to be prime ones; it 's awfully funny
to see them come flying and hopping and running towards us the minute
they see us--March says it's the 'Charge of the Light Brigade.'
"I wish you could be up here and have some of the fun,--but I 'm afraid
you 're too old. I enclose the song Rose sings which you asked me for.
I don't understand it, but it's perfectly beautiful when she sings it."
Hazel had asked Rose for the words of the song, telling her that her
Cousin Jack at Harvard would like to have them. Rose looked surprised
for a moment.
"What can he want of them?" she asked in a rather dignified manner; and
Hazel, thinking she was giving the explanation the most reasonable as
well as agreeable, replied:--
"I don't know for sure, but I think--you won't tell, will you, Rose?"
"Of course I won't. I don't even know your cousin, to begin with."
"I think he is going to be engaged, or is, to Miss Seaton of New York.
All his friends think she is awfully pretty, and papa says she is
fascinating. I think Jack wanted them to give to her."
"Oh," said Rose, in a cool voice with a circumflex inflection, then
added in a decidedly toploftical tone, "I've no objection to his making
use of them. I 'll copy them for you."
"Thank you, Rose," said Hazel, rather puzzled and a little hurt at
Rose's new manner.
This conversation took place the first week in August, and the verses
were duly forwarded to Jack, who read them over twice, and then,
thrusting them into his breast-pocket, went over to the Casino,
whistling softly to himself on the way. There, meeting his chum and
some other friends, he proposed a riding-trip through the Green Mountain
region for the latter part of August.
"The Colonel and his wife will go with us, I 'm sure, and any of the
girls who can ride well will jump at the chance," said his chum. "It's
a novelty after so much coaching."
"I 'll go over and see Miss Seaton about it," said Jack, and walked off
singing to himself,--
"'--the stars above
Shine ever on Love'--"
His friend turned to the others. "That's a go; I 've never seen
Sherrill so hard hit before." Then he fell to discussing the new plan
with the rest.
Jack was wily enough, as he laid the plan before Maude Seaton, to
attempt to kill two birds with one stone. He had had a desire, ever
since the first letter of Hazel's, to see his little cousin in her new
surroundings, and this desire was immeasurably strengthened by his
curiosity to see a girl who sang Barry Cornwall's love-lyrics on Mount
Hunger. Consequently, in planning the high-roads to be followed through
the Green Mountains, he had not omitted to include Barton's River, as it
boasted a good inn.
"Here 's Woodstock,--just here," he explained to pretty Maude Seaton, as
they sat on the broad morning-porch of the palatial Newport cottage,
with a map of Vermont on the table between them. "We can stop there a
day or two, and make our next stop at Barton's River; I 've heard it's a
beautiful place, with glorious mountain rides within easy distance.
Suppose we arrange to stop three or four days there and take it all in?
I 've been told it's the finest river-valley in New England."
"Oh, do let's! The whole thing is going to be delightful. I 'm so tired
of coaching; I believe nobody enjoys it now, unless it's the one who
holds the reins, and then all the others are bored. But with fine
horses this will be no end of fun. We can send on our trunks ahead,
can't we?"
"Oh, yes, that's easily arranged. By the way, what horse will you take?
Remember," he said, looking her squarely in the eyes with a flattering
concern, "it's a mountain country, and we can't afford to have anything
happen to you."
"No danger for me," laughed Maude, meeting his look as squarely. "And I
can't worry about you after seeing the polo game you played yesterday,"
she added with frank admiration.
"It was a good one, was n't it?" said Jack, his eyes kindling at the
remembrance. "It was my mascot did the business--see?" He put his hand
in his breast-pocket, expecting to draw forth a ribbon bow of Maude's
that she had given him for "colors;" but, to his amazement, and to Miss
Seaton's private chagrin, he drew forth only the slip of paper with
Barry Cornwall's love-song in Rose Blossom's handwriting.
Where the dickens was that bow? Jack felt the absurdity of hunting in
all his pockets for something he had intended should express one phase,
at least, of his sentiments. He felt the blood mounting to the roots of
his hair, and, laughing, put a bold face on it.
He held out the slip of paper. "It looks innocent, doesn't it?" he said
mischievously, and enjoyed to the full Maude's look of discomfiture,
which, only for a second, she could not help showing. "She 'll know now
how a fellow feels when he has sent her flowers and sees her wearing
another man's offering," he thought. He turned to the map again.
"Well, what horse will you ride?"
"I 'll take Old Jo; he 's safe, and splendid for fences. Of course you
'll take Little Shaver?"
"Yes, he and I don't part company very often. So it's settled, is it?"
he asked, feeling cooler than he did.
"So far as I am concerned, it is; and I know the Colonel and Mrs.
Fenlick will go; it's just the thing they like."
"Well, I 'll leave you to speak to the other girls, and I 'll go over
and see Mrs. Fenlick. Good-bye." He held out his hand, but Miss Seaton
chose to be looking down the avenue at that moment.
"Oh, there are the Graysons beckoning to me!" she exclaimed eagerly.
"Excuse me, and good-bye--I must run down to see them." As she walked
swiftly and gracefully over the lawn, she knew Jack Sherrill was
watching her. "Yes, it's settled," she thought, as she hurried on; "and
something else is settled, too, Mr. Sherrill! You 've been hanging fire
long enough--and the idea of his forgetting that bow!"
The Graysons thought they had never seen Maude Seaton quite so pretty as
she was that morning, when she stood chatting and laughing with all in
general, and fascinating each in particular. The result was, the
Graysons joined the riding-party in a body, and Sam Grayson vowed he
would cut Jack Sherrill out if he had to fight for it.
It was a glorious first of September when the riding-party, ten in
number, cantered up to the inn at Barton's River, and it was a merry
group in fresh toilets that gathered after dinner and a rest of an hour
or two in their rooms, on the long, narrow, vine-covered veranda of the
inn. It had been a warm day, and the afternoon shadows were gratefully
cooling.
"Will you look at that load coming down the street?" said Mrs. Fenlick.
"I never saw anything so funny!"
The whole party burst out laughing, as the vehicle, an old apple-green
cart, apparently filled with bobbing calico sunbonnets and straw hats,
shackled and rattled up to the side door of the inn.
"I shall call them the Antediluvians," laughed Maude Seaton. "Do you
know where they come from?" she said, speaking in at the open
office-window to the boy.
"I guess they come to sell berries from a place the folks round here
call 'The Lost Nation,'" he replied, grinning.
"'The Lost Nation!' Do you hear that?" said Sam Grayson. "Let's have a
nearer view of the natives." They all went to the end of the veranda
nearest the cart. Sam Grayson and Jack went out to investigate.
Two boys in faded blue overalls and almost brimless straw hats jumped
down before the wagon stopped, and began lifting out six-quart pails of
shining blackberries from beneath an old buffalo robe. Jack, with his
hands in his pockets, sauntered up to the tail of the cart.
"Buy them all, do--do!" cried Miss Seaton, clapping her hands. "We need
them to-morrow for our picnic; and pay a good price," she added, "for
the sake of the looks. I wouldn't have missed it for anything?"
"How do you sell them?" said Jack to the tall boy who stood with his
back to him, busied with the berries.
The boy turned at the sound of the pleasant voice, and lifted his
brimless hat by the crown with an air a Harvard freshman might have
envied. Jack, seeing it, was sorry he was bareheaded, for he hated to
be outdone in such courtesy.
"Ten cents a quart, sir."
"What a handsome fellow!" whispered Mrs. Fenlick. "You rarely see such a
face; and where did he get such manners?"
"How many quarts have--halloo, Little Sunbonnet! Look out!" said Jack,
laughing, as he caught the owner of the yellow sunbonnet, who, perched
on the side of the wagon, suddenly lost her balance because of Bess's
uneasy movements in fly-time.
"Well, you are an armful," he laughed as he set her down and tried in
vain to peer up under the drooping bonnet and discover a face.
"Whoa--ah, Bess!" shouted the driver, as Bess reared and snorted and
shuddered and finally rid herself of the tormenting horse-fly. "All
right, Cherry Bounce?" he said, turning at last when the horse was
quieted.
But Cherry was dumb with embarrassment, and Jack answered for her.
"Little Sunbonnet's all safe, but what--" He got no further with that
sentence. To the amazement of the group on the veranda and Jack's
overwhelming astonishment, a wild, gleeful "Oh-ee!" issued from the
depths of another sunbonnet in the cart, and the owner thereof
precipitated herself recklessly over the side, and cast herself upon
Jack's neck, hugging and "oh-eeing" with all her might.
"Why, Hazel! Hazel!" Except for that, Jack was dumb like Cherry, but
not with embarrassment. Was this Hazel? Her sunbonnet had fallen off,
and the dark blue gingham dress set off the wonderful richness of
coloring that helped to make Hazel what she had become, "a perfect
beauty."
"Oh, Jack, you old darling, why did n't you let us know you were coming?
Chi, Chi!" Hazel was fairly wild with joy at seeing a dearly loved
home-face. "This is my Cousin Jack we 've talked about. Jack, this is
my friend, Chi."
Chi put out his horny brown hand, and Jack grasped it.
"Guess she 's givin' you away pretty smart, ain't she?" said Chi, with a
twist of his mouth and a motion of his thumb backwards to the veranda.
"Well, rather," said Jack, laughing, for he felt that Chi's keen eyes
had taken in the whole situation at a glance. "I meant to surprise her,
but she has succeeded in surprising me." He stood with his arm about
Hazel. "And these are your friends, Hazel?" he inquired; he felt he must
make the best of it now.
"Oh, Jack, I 'm ashamed of myself; I 'm so glad to see you I 've
forgotten my manners. Rose," she spoke up to the other sunbonnet that
had kept its position straight towards the horse and never moved during
this surprise party. Then Rose turned. "Rose, this is Cousin Jack."
The sunbonnet bowed stiffly, and Jack heard a low laugh behind him. It
was Maude Seaton's. Rose heard it, too; so did Chi and March. It
affected each in the same way. As Chi said afterwards, he "b'iled" when
he heard it. Then Rose spoke:--
"I 'm very glad to see you, Mr. Sherrill, we 've heard so much of you."
Her voice rang sweet and clear; every word was heard on the veranda.
"And these berries are n't to be preserved; but evidently you are going
to buy them just the same,--as well as your friends," she added, looking
towards the veranda.
Jack bit his lip. "I should like to introduce all my friends to you,"
he said, without much enthusiasm, however. "I know this is March;" he
turned pleasantly to him, but dared not offer his hand, for the look on
the boy's face warned him that March had resented the laugh. "Will you
come?" He held up his hand to Rose to help her down.
"Thank you." Rose sprang down, ignoring the proffered help.
She knew just how she looked, and her face burned at the thought. Her
old green and white calico dress was shrunken and warped with many
washings; her shoes were heavy and patched; fortunately her sunbonnet
with its green calico cape was of a depth to hide her burning face. But
that laugh had been like a challenge to her pride.
"Drive up to the front veranda, Chi," she commanded rather brusquely;
and Chi, muttering to himself, "She's game, though; I would n't thought
it of Rose-pose; but I glory in her spunk!" drew up to the front door in
a truly rattling style.
Then Rose and Hazel were introduced to them all; but in vain did Maude
Seaton try to get a look into her face. It was only a ceremony, and Rose
felt it as such; nevertheless she said very pleasantly, "Hazel, wouldn't
you like to invite your friends up to tea on the porch to-morrow? that
is, if you are to be here?" she added, addressing Mrs. Fenlick.
"Oh, Rose, that would be lovely. Then they can see the chickens!" said
Hazel. There was a general laugh.
"I fear it will be too much trouble, Miss Blossom," said Mrs. Fenlick,
courteously, for she felt like apologizing for that laugh of Maude
Seaton's; "there are so many of us."
"Oh, no, my mother will be glad to meet you," Rose replied with serene
voice; "won't she, Chi?"
"Sure," said Chi, addressing the general assembly; "the more the
merrier; 'n' if you come along about four, you 'll get a view you don't
get round here, 'n' a wholesale piazzy to eat it on. How many do you
count up?" Jack winced at the burst of merriment that followed the
question.
"We'll line up, and you can count," said Sam Grayson, the fun getting
the better of him. "Here, Miss Seaton, stand at the head."
"Miss Blossom, there are ten of us; are you going to retract your
invitation?" said Mrs. Fenlick, shaking her head at Sam.
"Not if you wish to come," said Rose, pleasantly. "We will have tea at
five. Come, Hazel, we must be going: there are the berries to sell--or
shall we leave you here with your cousin till we come back?"
"No, I won't leave you even for Jack," said Hazel, earnestly; "besides,
I 've never had the fun of selling berries."
"I 'm thinkin' you 've lost your fun, anyway," said Chi, "for Budd says
the tavern-keeper has taken all; guess _he 's_ goin' into the jam
business, too."
"I 'll pick some more, then, to-morrow, and you 'll have to buy some of
them, Jack," said Hazel, "for I 'm bound to sell some berries this
summer."
"We 'll take all you can pick, Hazel," said Maude Seaton, sweetly.
Then, as the cart rattled away with the three sunbonnets held rigid and
erect, she turned to Mrs. Fenlick and the other girls: "What an idea
that was of Doctor Heath's to put Hazel away up here in such a family--a
girl in her position!"
"She seems to have thriven wonderfully on it," remarked Mrs. Fenlick;
"she will be the prettiest of her set when they come out. I am
delighted to have a chance to see Doctor Heath's mountain sanatorium."
"Oh, I 'm sure it will be amusing," replied Maude, dryly. Then she shook
out her light draperies, pulled down her belt, and went down the road a
bit to meet Jack and Sam Grayson, who had accompanied the cart for a few
rods along the village street.
When they had turned back to the inn, the storm in the apple-green cart
burst forth.
"Did you hear that girl laugh?" demanded March, with suppressed wrath in
his voice.
"Just as plain as I hear that crow caw," said Chi.
"I can't bear her," said Hazel; "telling me she would buy my berries
when I only meant Jack."
"Kinder sweet on him, ain't she?" asked Chi, carelessly.
"I should think so!" was Hazel's indignant answer. "I heard Aunt Carrie
tell papa she was always sending him invitations to everything. But is
n't Cousin Jack splendid, Rose?"
Rose's sunbonnet was still very rigid, and Chi knew that sign; so he
spoke up promptly, knowing that she did not care to answer just then:--
"He 's about as handsome as they make 'em, Lady-bird; if he wears well,
I sha'n't have nothin' against him."
Hazel felt rather depressed without knowing exactly why. March returned
to the charge.
"Did you hear that laugh, Rose?"
"Yes, I did," said Rose, shortly. March looked at her in surprise, but
Chi managed to give him a nudge, which March understood, and the subject
was dropped on the homeward way.
That the berry-sellers were under a cloud was evident to Mrs. Blossom as
soon as they drove up to the woodshed.
"Did you have good luck, children?" she called to them cheerily.
"We 've sold all our berries," said Budd.
"But March and Rose are cross, Martie," added Cherry.
"Tired 'n' hungry, too, Mis' Blossom," Chi hastened to say, trying to
shield Hazel and the other two. "I wish you 'd just step out to the
barn with a spoonful of your good lard. Bess has rubbed her shin a
little mite, 'n' I want to grease it good to save the hair." Mrs.
Blossom, reading his face, took the hint.
He made his confession in the barn.
"I don't know what we 've done, Mis' Blossom; but Rose has invited 'em
all up here to-morrow to supper,--they 're regular high-flyers, girls
'n' fellers, 'n' the Colonel and his wife. There 's ten of 'em; 'n'
it's a-goin' to make you an awful sight of work, but, by George
Washin'ton! that pesky girl--Miss Seaver, or somethin' like it--riled me
so, that I ain't got over it yet, 'n' I 'd backed up Rose if she 'd
offered to take the whole of 'em to board for a week. I just b'iled
when I heard her laugh, 'n' she can't hold a candle to our Rose; 'n'
she's that sassy--although you can't put your finger on anything
special--that you can't sass back; the worst kind every time; 'n' she 's
set her cap for the straightest sort of chap--that's Hazel's
cousin--there is goin', 'n', by George Washin'ton! I 'm afraid he 's
fool enough to catch at that bait.
"There!" said Chi, stopping to draw breath, "I 've had my blow-out 'n' I
feel better. Now, what are we goin' to do about it?"
"We 'll manage it, Chi," said Mrs. Blossom, smiling in spite of herself
at Chi's wrath. "After all, the children have been carefully guarded in
our home up here, and, sometimes, I think too much,--it won't hurt them
to take a prick now and then. Besides, Chi," she added, laughing
outright as she turned to go into the house, "the children did look
perfectly ridiculous in those old berry-picking rigs. I laughed myself
when I saw you drive off with them."
But she left Chi grumbling.
That night, after the children were in bed, and Mrs. Blossom was sure
they were all asleep except Rose, she went upstairs a second time and
spoke softly at the door:
"Rose."
"Yes, Martie; oh, you 're coming! I 'm so glad." And as Mrs. Blossom
knelt by the bed, whispering, "Now tell me all about it," Rose threw one
arm over her mother's shoulder and whispered her confession.
"They were n't rude to you, dear, were they?"
"No, Martie," whispered Rose, "it was n't that, but I just _hated_ them
far a minute,--Hazel's cousin and all."
"That is n't like you, Rose dear, to hate anyone without reason."
"Oh, Martie, I 'm ashamed to tell you--" the arm came close about her
mother's neck, "I 'm too old to have such feelings, but I could n't bear
them because I looked as I did. I was ashamed of my looks and the
children's; and I was ashamed even of Chi--dear, old Chi!--" there was a
smothered sob and an effort to go on. "And they were all dressed so
beautifully, and Hazel's cousin had on a lovely white flannel suit, and
I was just a little rude to him; but it was nothing but my dreadful
pride! I did n't know I had it till to-day,--oh, dear!" The head went
under the counterpane to smother the sound of the sobs.
"But, my dear little girl--" (When Rose cried, which was seldom, Mrs.
Blossom called her daughter who was as tall as herself, "little girl,"
and nothing comforted Rose more than that.) So now, hearing the loving
words, the head emerged from the bedclothes, and a tear-wet face was
meekly held over the side of the bed for a kiss.
"But, my dear little girl," Mrs. Blossom went on after the interruption,
"surely you were courteous and thoughtful of Hazel's happiness, at
least, to ask them all up here to tea. You have n't that to regret."
There was a fresh burst, smothered quickly under the sheet. "Oh,
Martie, that's the worst part of it! I did n't ask them for Hazel's
sake, but just for myself, because I knew--I knew--" Rose smothered the
rising sob; "that if they came, I could have on my one pretty dress, and
they 'd see that I--that I--" Rose was unable to finish.
"Could look as well as they did?" said Mrs. Blossom, completing the
sentence.
"Yes," sighed Rose, "and I feel like a perfect hypocrite towards every
one of them;--and, oh, Martie! the truth is, I was ashamed of being poor
and selling berries--" again the head went under the coverlet, and Mrs.
Blossom caught only broken phrases:--
"I am so proud of--of you and Popsey--poor Chi made it worse--they
laughed--March was mad, too,--and Miss Seaton 's so
pretty--clothes--Hazel's cousin tried to be polite--Hazel--just her dear
own self--but she 's rich--and Cherry f-fell into his arms--and I
know--and I know--I know he wanted to be out of the whole thing--oh
dear!"
Mrs. Blossom patted the bunch under the clothes whence came the
smothered, broken sentences, and smiled while a tear rolled down her
cheek. After all, this was real grief, and she wished she might have
shielded her Rose from just this kind of contact with the world. But
she was wise enough not to say so.
"Well, Rose dear, let's look on the other side now the invitation has
been given. I, for my part, shall be glad to see what they are like. I
know you looked queer in those old clothes, but, after all, would n't it
have been just as queer to have been all dressed up selling berries?"
"Yes, I think it would, Martie," said Rose, emerging from her retreat.
"I 'm not such a goose as not to realize we must have looked perfectly
comical."
"Well, now comfort yourself with the thought, that to-morrow you need
only look just as nice as you can in honor of our guests. I 'm sure I
shall," said Mrs. Blossom, laughing softly. "I 'm not going to be
outdone by all those 'high-flyers,' as dear, old Chi calls them. We 'll
put on our prettiest--and there is n't much choice, you know, for we
have just one apiece--and we 'll set the table with grandmother's old
china out on the porch, and we 'll give them of our best, and queens,
Rose-pose, can do no more. That's _our_ duty; we'll let the others look
out for theirs. Now, what will be nice for tea?"
"Not preserves, Martie, for Chi said--" Her mother interrupted her,--
"Never mind what Chi said now, dear, but plan for the tea. We shall
have to work as hard as we can jump to-morrow forenoon to get ready. I
'm sorry father can't be at home."
"Could n't we have blackberries and those late garden raspberries Chi
has been saving?" said Rose.
"Yes, those will look pretty and taste good; and then hot rolls, and
fresh sponge and plum cake, and tea, and cold chicken moulded in its
jelly, the way we tried it last month--"
"Oh, that will be lovely, Martie," whispered Rose, eagerly.
"And if Chi and March have the time," went on Mrs. Blossom, entering
heart and soul into the hospitable plan, "I 'll ask them to go
trout-fishing and bring us home two strings of the speckled beauties,
and if those served hot don't make them respect old clothes--then
nothing on earth will," concluded Mrs. Blossom, with mock solemnity.
"Oh, Martie Blossom, you're an angel!" cried Rose, softly, rising in bed
and throwing both arms about her mother's neck--"there!"--a squeeze,
"and there--" another squeeze and a kiss, "and now you won't have to
complain of me to-morrow."
"That's mother's own daughter Rose," said Mrs. Blossom, smoothing the
sheet under the round chin. "Now, good-night--sleep well, for I depend
upon you to make those rolls to-morrow forenoon."