"Very,--and right, too."
"Still," she went on, "it will be better for all concerned to have Aunt
Huldah like her. Don't you remember that one summer a young girl from
the milliner's boarded with us, and helped us, to pay her board?"
"Capital!" I said. "But can you manage it?"
"I think I can. Mrs. Sampson is, I know, wanting a girl for the busy
season."
"But Rachel wouldn't come here,--to my home!"
"She need not know it is your home. I will write to Mrs. James, and tell
her all about it,--tell why I want Rachel here, and what a good
situation it will be for her at Mrs. Sampson's. She can find out whether
the plan is pleasing to her; and if it is, she can herself make all the
arrangements. Of course I shall charge her not to tell. Then, when
everything is settled, I can just say to the milliner that we should
like to make the same little arrangement that we did before."
"And she live here with you, with Aunt Huldah?"
"Why not? She needn't know that Mrs. Huldah Sprague is your aunt, or
that this is your home."
"But she would find it out some way. People calling would mention me.
Aunt herself would."
"I know it," said Fanny, not quite so hopefully; "and that is the weak
point of my plan. But then, you know, we are Charley and Fanny to
everybody. _She_ only thinks of you as Mr. Browne. Anyway, something
will be gained. I shall see her, and decide about liking her, which is
quite important; and it will be well for her to have the situation, even
if nothing else comes of it. I don't see any harm our scheme can do; do
you, Charley?"
"No,--no harm; but still, things don't look--exactly clear."
"Of course not; it is not to be expected. I have read in books that
lovers have always a mist before their eyes. Mine are clear yet; and I
will tell you what to do,--or, rather, what not to do. Don't write her
from here; wait till you are in Cambridge."
By this time we reached the house. The moment we entered, Aunt Huldah
stretched out her hand for the dye-stuff. We had forgotten all about it!
Those few days at home were pleasant. Aunt Huldah was unusually kind. It
was such a satisfaction to her to know that I had kept a school,--to
think that some of her own pluck was hid beneath my quiet seeming. She
proposed my becoming a lawyer, to which I made no objection,--for I knew
I could make a _dumb_ lawyer, one of the kind who only sit and write.
I wrote to Rachel from Cambridge, and she answered my letter. It was
like herself. "How very kind you have been," she wrote, "to me, a poor
stranger-girl! If I knew how to write, I would try to let you know how
much I feel it. I can't understand your wanting to marry a girl like me.
I know so little, _am_ so little. I hope it will not offend you, but I
think I ought to say, even if it does, that you must not write any more.
Sometime you will thank me, in your heart, for not doing as you want me
to now."
I saw that I had indeed a noble nature to deal with. Here was a girl,
all alone in the world, rejecting the sweetest offering that could be
made to a friendless one,--a loving heart,--lest that heart should be
made to suffer on her account! Of course I kept on writing, though my
letters were not answered. I sent her letter to Fanny, who wrote me to
keep up good courage, for she had already put her irons in the
fire,--that, although now fully convinced that Rachel was too good for
me, she had herself begun to love her, and was at work on her own
account.
I always kept Fanny's letters. Here is a part of one I received after
having been a few weeks from home:--
"I have just got my answer from Mrs. James. She is just the woman to
help us along. Rachel wants to come! I have spoken to Aunt Huldah. It is
too bad, but I had to be a bit of a hypocrite, to hint that I was rather
poorly, and how nice it would be to have a little help. She had just got
in a new piece to weave, and so was quite ready to take up with my plan.
I shall get well as soon as it will do, for she seems anxious. Aunt has
a stiff way, I know, but there's a warm corner somewhere in her heart,
and we are in it, and you know there's always room for one more."
It was a week, and more, before I got another letter from my scheming
sister. It began this way:--
"Your Rachel is a beauty! Just as sweet and modest as she can be! She is
sitting at the end-window of my room, watching the vessels. I am writing
at the front-window. She has just looked at me. What eyes she has! If
she _only_ knew whom I was writing to! When I see you, I shall tell you
the particulars. But don't come posting home now, and spoil everything.
You shall hear all that is necessary for you to know."
Fanny need not have cautioned me about coming home. It was happiness
enough then to think of Rachel sitting in my sister's room,--of Aunt
Huldah's keen eyes watching her daily life.
"My plan works," writes Fanny, a week afterwards. "Aunt seems to take a
liking to Rachel, which I, if anything, rather discourage, thinking she
will be more likely to stick to it. Rachel is a sister after my own
heart. I do like those people who, while they are so steady and calm,
show by their eyes and the tone of the voice what warm, delicate
feelings they are keeping to themselves! She is one of the real good
kind! What a way she has with her!--I saw her to-day, when she received
a letter from you. It came in one from Mrs. James. I was making believe
read, but peeped at her sideways, just as I have seen you do at the
girls in meeting-time. She slipped yours into her pocket, with such a
blush,--then looked up, sort of scared, to see if I noticed anything;
but I was reading my book. Then she stepped quickly out of the room, and
I saw her, a moment after, go through the garden into the apple-orchard,
and along the path to the low-branching apple-tree, to read it all
alone."
This tree I knew well. It was an irregular old apple-tree, one of whose
branches formed of itself a nice seat, where Fanny and I had often sat
from childhood up.