A NEW FRIEND.
Preston lingered at the wood-shed and about the tiny station of Bremen
all that morning and most of the afternoon. It was a very solitary
place, and he had ample time for reflection.
"Well, this is one way to take care of your little sister! Anybody'd
think I was five years old! I can't stand it to be such a fool! Oh ho!
I thought 'twas great fun, didn't I, to make her give up her money and
tickets? I wanted to 'take her down,' but now I'm taken down myself,
and how do I like it?"
To judge by his clouded face and the stamping he made with his heels,
he did not like it at all. "Poor little Flaxie, I know she's rushing
round that car and crying! What will she do with herself? _She_ won't
get off anywhere? Oh, no, _Flaxie_ isn't such a goose as to get off
a car unless there's some sense in it! There's only one goose in the
family, and that's Preston Gray. No, _she_ won't get off. And let's
see, the conductor will remember her, on account of that cracker.
He'll know she did have a ticket, so of course he'll let her go free.
_She_'ll do well enough. She'll make friends on the cars; she's always
making friends, she's so pretty and sweet."
In this way, by praising his sister and scolding himself, Preston
tried to find a little consolation as he strode up and down the narrow
sleigh-track--which the people of Bremen called a road. What he ought
to do he could not decide.
After a while a man came along the road, dragging a pail of flour on
a sled. "Do you know how far it is to Hilltop, sir?" asked Preston,
feeling himself very young and small, for the man stared at him as if
_he_ considered him a mere baby, and thought of taking him up pickaback.
"Hilltop, did you ask? Why, where are your folks? Where did you come
from, travelling round here alone?"
"Oh, I came from Laurel Grove, just the other side of Rosewood,"
replied Preston, as dignified as a boy _can_ be who feels himself
crushed to the earth by unmerited contempt. "I got off the cars a few
minutes ago, and--and--thought I'd wait for the next train. When does
the next train go?"
"Well, it beats me to guess what you got off the cars for!" said this
very disrespectful man, setting one foot on the sled and eying Preston
all over. "You hadn't ought to get off the cars, sonny, it ain't safe;
children get their necks broke that way."
"Can you tell me how far it is to Hilltop?" asked Preston, with an
increase of dignity.
"Well, it's a good fifty miles or more, and you can't go till five
o'clock this afternoon. You'd better speak to the folks that live in
that red house yonder, and ask 'em to see you safe on board the cars,
and when you once get on, you stick there! Don't you get off this side
of Hilltop. Now mind, little shaver!" And with this very cutting advice
and another disrespectful stare, the man toiled on with his sled and
the pail of flour.
"I hope he was impolite enough," thought Preston, indignantly. He did
not relish being looked down upon. Neither had Flaxie relished it, you
remember. "So I can't get to Hilltop till evening. A pretty piece of
work! They'll be just rising from the supper-table, Flaxie and all;
and won't they have a jolly time laughing at me? They'll ask what I
came for at that time of day? Freddy'll call me a caterpillar and a
snail, and everything else he can think of. No, _sir_, you don't catch
me going to Hilltop to be laughed at! All I went for in the first place
was to take care of Flaxie. No fun in it now. No use, either! Guess
I'll go home. But what shall I do with the check and the purse and the
key? Oh, Flaxie, I wish I'd let you alone."
While he was lamenting in this strain, he became conscious of a pair
of sorrowful eyes raised to his face. They were the eyes of a thin and
unhappy-looking but handsome black and white spaniel. It was a tender,
respectful gaze; and to a boy who has just felt himself looked down
upon, it is consoling to be looked up to, even by a dog.
"Here, Rover, Rover, good fellow! Here, Rover," said he, softly patting
the shaggy head.
There was a magical charm for all animals in Preston's touch; and this
poor creature crouched before him with a mournful, loving whine, got
in front of him as he moved about, sat down at his feet and licked his
boots when he stood still, and behaved altogether as if he had found a
dear friend.
"I can't think what you mean, Rover. There, that's your name, I know by
the way you wag your tail! But, Rover, you never saw _me_ before. What
makes you think you know me?"
The handsome animal whined again at the sound of Preston's voice,
pushing his nose into the boy's hand, and going off into a sort of
dog-ecstasy. It was really quite touching. All the more so as there
was something in the curl of his tail, the droop of his ears, that
suggested to Preston his own lost dog, the beloved and ever-lamented
Tantra Bogus.
"Tantra Bogus was larger and sleeker and fatter, but he had the same
white spot in his forehead and his eyes were the same color," said
Preston, his heart stirred with tender memories, as he stooped and laid
his cheek lovingly against the rough black face.
"Ah, Rover, you do love me! But I can't see why! I guessed your name,
and I'll warrant I can guess who your master is, too. It's that
impudent man with the sled. Because, sir, you've been half starved, and
he's just the man to starve a dog."
There was a crunching sound in the snow, and Preston looked up, half
expecting to see the "impudent man" again; but this time it was a lady.
Certainly they had strange people in Bremen, for this lady was the
ugliest being he had ever seen. Large, half-open lips, big red nose,
small red eyes. But he did not forget to raise his cap respectfully.
"Dear old Rover, I'm glad he's found a friend at last," said the lady
to Preston, in the sweetest tones. "He lost his master three weeks ago,
and mourns him so much that it is very pitiful. He won't stay in the
house with his master's family, but lingers about this shed day and
night."
"Poor fellow, poor fellow," said Preston; and the dog capered about
him, going out of his head again with rapture.
"Yes," said the lady, setting down a little bundle in the snow, and
weaving the silver pin more securely into her shawl, "you are the very
first person Rover has cared for, or taken the least notice of. The
family are afraid he will starve to death. There, now! I have an idea!
But perhaps you are in a hurry?" added she, with a particularly sweet
smile. It was surprising how an ugly mouth like hers could smile so
agreeably.
"No, ma'am, no hurry. I've got to wait seven hours. Going to--going
to--"
Here Preston's words were lost in an indistinct muttering, his mouth
being pretty close to Rover's nose.
"Then if you'll wait here a few minutes I'll bring Rover something to
eat. They'll all be so glad; and perhaps he'll take it from _you_,
though he won't from any one else."
Observe, she did not address Preston as "sonny," or call him a
"shaver." She did not even say "my boy" or "my child" or "my dear," or
ask him any embarrassing questions.
He was convinced that she was a perfect lady, and answered briskly,--
"Oh, do bring him a piece of meat, ma'am! You see I can wait, for I'm
going to--"
But not knowing whether to say Hilltop or Laurel Grove, he prudently
left the sentence unfinished.
The lady hastened to the red house near by, and Preston, still
caressing the dog, watched her as she returned with a light step,
bearing a plate of meat in her hand. There was something very
interesting about her homeliness; he could not help looking at her
face, and the more he looked the better he liked it.
"This is nice roast beef, a real Thanksgiving dinner, Rover," said she,
with loving good-will. "Do eat it and make me happy."
As if he were grateful, and really anxious to please her, this dog,
who had so long refused his food, thrust his nose immediately into the
heaped-up plate before him and began to eat. If Preston moved away,
however, he stopped, turned about, and followed him uneasily.
"It is very plain that the charm lies in you," said the lady, smiling,
as Preston patted Rover's head, and he began to eat again.
It had been dreadful, she said, to see him pining away, and to hear him
moaning day and night. Mrs. Danforth, his master's widow, could hardly
bear it, and her son, who lived with her, had declared that Rover must
be taken out of town and given to a new master or he would surely die
of grief.
"Now look here, ma'am," cried Preston, looking up with sudden
animation, "why couldn't he go home with me? I've lost my dog. Why
couldn't he go home with me and be _my_ dog, you know?"
"I don't see why not, if you would like him. I know Mr. Danforth would
be glad to give him up to a boy so kind as you are. Where do you live?"
"At Laurel Grove, ma'am." And feeling a growing desire to stand well in
the lady's esteem, he tried to explain the situation.
"But I--perhaps I sha'n't go home--that is, not to-day. I didn't know
what I _should_ do. I stopped here on the way. I hadn't decided, you
know," said he, vaguely.
The lady looked at him in some surprise. Perhaps she doubted whether he
could be trusted with a dog. But she did not say anything like that.
"Do you live at Laurel Grove? Why, that is just where _I_ am going. I
came from Hilltop yesterday to visit the Danforths on my way, and I'm
going to Laurel Grove to-day, to Dr. Gray's."
"Why, Dr. Gray is my father! And now I know who _you_ are. You're Miss
Pike! I might have known it was you," he went on, thinking aloud, "for
you look just as I expected you would."
He could not dream how this little speech hurt Miss Pike. She had moved
forward to shake hands with him, but at his last words her cheeks
flushed and she drew back again. Was she thinking that very likely he
had heard her called "that homely Miss Pike?"
But the next moment she smiled pleasantly, holding out her hand.
"And now I know who _you_ are. You're Master Preston Gray. 'I might
have known it was you, for you look just as I expected you would!'"
"Oh, Flaxie told you I wore spectacles, _didn't_ she?" Preston was
somewhat sensitive about those. "I have to wear them, for if I take
them off I'm blind almost," said he by way of apology.
"Yes, I know, you dear blessed boy! Your sister has told me, and all
the Allen family have told me, too, how patient you've been. I'm so
glad I've met you, Master Preston. And now what shall I say to your
father when I shall see him to-day?"
The boy looked up, and then he looked down. "Oh, are you going to see
my father to-day?"
"Yes, I shall start at three o'clock this afternoon in the baggage-car.
I'm told there's no passenger-car, and I must go as baggage, or wait
till six o'clock to-morrow morning, and I don't like to start so early
as that, should you?"
"No, ma'am, I shouldn't; it's pretty dark at six. Look here, Miss Pike,
if I take Rover I shall have to take him in the baggage car, sha'n't I?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"Well, I've a good mind to take him to-day, if Mr. Danforth will let
me. I don't want to go to Hilltop now; it isn't very convenient."
"Ah?" said Miss Pike.
"I didn't care much about going to Hilltop anyway, not now; I only came
to take care of my little sister."
"Ah?" said Miss Pike again, with an upward slide to her voice.
"Oh, I suppose you think I didn't take care of her very well. I suppose
you think it's sort of queer my being here, but you see--"
Here he struggled so long with something in his throat that she helped
him by saying,--
"Oh, possibly you got left."
What a bright, far-seeing woman she was!
"Yes, ma'am, I did get left. That was just how it was. If it had not
been for trying to get some sponge-cake--"
"Well, I'm glad you stopped here," broke in the delightful Miss Pike,
who seemed to care nothing at all about the little particulars. So good
of her _not_ to care! "I'm glad I met you. And as your little sister
will not need you any more, couldn't you go home this afternoon to
be company for me?--Why, just see, Rover has eaten every bit of his
dinner!"
"Oh, I'd like to go with you, ma'am, if I hadn't carried off Flaxie's
check and key," demurred Preston. "You see, I took them to keep them
safe."
Rather too safe, Miss Pike thought; but she said, without the shadow of
a smile, "Why not send the key and check to your sister by mail?"