THE BOYS.
"MAMMINA!"
"Yes, Hilda!"
"Are you quite sure you will not mind my asking?"
"I am not at all sure! Suppose you try it, and find out."
"Well,--I don't believe you will really mind. But--was not Mr. Raymond
Ferrers--very fond of you, dear?"
Mrs. Grahame coloured like a girl.
"Yes, dear, he was. He was--I am afraid--very fond of me, Hilda. It was
years and years ago, of course; he was only a lad. But,--well, it
happened that we had never met since, you see; I think we were both a
little overcome, for I, too, was very fond of him, Hilda, though not in
the way he wished. Poor Raymond!"
"You--you couldn't care for him, dear?"
"My child! I had seen your father; how could I think of any one else?
But Raymond did not know that; and--and it was hard for him. I trust I
did not appear foolish, Hilda?"
She spoke anxiously, and Hilda laughed outright.
"Darling, you appeared like an angel, and were perfectly calm. I never
should have guessed it from you; but--he, it was all over him, at the
first glance."
"Poor Raymond!" said Mrs. Grahame again, meditatively. "And yet he was
very happy in his marriage, I have always heard. His wife was a lovely
person, and sincerely attached to him. But--I suppose the seeing me
brought back his boyhood, and some of the old feeling,--we are singular
creatures, Hilda. Perhaps you think I might have told you of this
before, Hilda. You see, I never thought of it as anything belonging to
me, dear."
"Of course," said Hilda. "I know! And I should not have asked if--if he
had not made it so _very_ obvious. But, oh, how charming,--how lovely he
is! And how beautiful to see him with Jack, and the dear Colonel with
both of them! My mother, do you know that we have the very most
delightful friends in the habitable universe?"
"It really does seem so," said her mother. "And what a Christmas we
shall have, with so many of them around us! Let me see! Mr. Merryweather
came to-day. Now the whole Smiling Signal Service, as absurd Gerald
calls it, is here,--except the good Roger."
Except, indeed! Hildegarde's heart gave a great bound, and she felt the
colour rushing to cheek and forehead.
"We shall be very glad to see Roger?" said Mrs. Grahame. "Very glad,
daughter dear?"
"Very glad indeed, dearest mother!" said Hilda. She met her mother's
loving glance bravely, with her own bright smile; here, the blushing did
not matter, for the two hearts, mother's and daughter's, beat in such
true time together that words were hardly needed to carry the swift
thought from mind to mind.
There was a moment's pause; then Mrs. Grahame went on.
"And are they not planning all kinds of merrymaking for Christmas week?
Dear me! Why, it is this very coming week, Hilda! Where has the month
gone?"
"Oh, it is to be a great time!" said Hildegarde. "The flower party, and
lots of people coming down from town for it; and a toboggan-party,--if
the snow will only come! and the tree at Roseholme, and I don't know
what else. Do you know, I almost thought the Colonel and Mr.
Merryweather would quarrel about the tree; both wanted it so much. And
then they both gave up at the same minute, and each insisted that the
other should have it, till I thought they would quarrel over that. But
it all ended most happily. Hugh, of course! He came up quietly, and held
out two straws; and they drew, and neither said another word. Oh,
Mother, Hugh is so happy with Jack! I met them just now; his little face
was shining like a star. Jack was chattering German to him, and he did
not understand a word, but that made no difference at all. And dear old
Jack! I believe he would have liked to kiss every stone in the garden
wall--there! he is calling me now! I promised to go for a walk when my
work was done. Are you sure you don't want anything, darling? absolutely
sure? Then good-bye for an hour!"
Hildegarde ran down, and found Jack pacing the veranda with yard-long
strides.
"Do you remember," he said, abruptly, "the first time I came here,
Hilda?"
"Of course I do!" said Hilda.
"How I fell over a chair, and then knocked down a hanging-basket? Hilda,
I do believe I should have made away with myself that night, if there
had been any weapons about. I was simply _full_ of rage and misery; I
hated everybody, myself included; and it did seem to me as if you might
let me alone, and not insist upon making me talk. I _couldn't_ talk, you
know."
"No, dear, you certainly could not; but you had to learn. And you are
not sorry now, Jack?"
"Sorry! well, rather not! Fancy, if I had stayed the hateful noodle that
I was that night! Fact is, I was brimful of my own self; that was the
trouble with me. Ah--who are all these people Uncle Tom has been telling
me about, next door, in the yellow house? I didn't bargain for
strangers, Hilda!" And my lord looked slightly injured.
"No, dear!" said Hildegarde. "Of course we ought to have thought of
that, and have prevented their coming here. We don't own the house, it
is true, but we might have turned the hose on them, or put rat-poison
about, or kept them off in some way."
"Oh, there you go!" cried Jack. "I say! I haven't been teased for two
years. I forget what it's like. But seriously, are they really nice? Do
you care for them? I--I really _am_ jealous, Hilda; you needn't laugh. I
thought I was going to have you all to myself, and now here are a lot of
people,--with unreasonable names, it seems to me,--and Uncle Tom says
they are your most intimate friends, and that he loves them all like
brothers."
"That was one of them you met last night," said Hildegarde, demurely.
"Oh, I say! I was going to ask you,--was it, though? of course; I didn't
notice her name much, but I remember now. Well, Hilda, she is a
musician, and of course I'm glad you have had such a friend as that. I
liked her face, too,--"
"You couldn't see her face!"
"Oh, I saw enough. I saw her eyes just for a minute, and I know what
she's like, anyhow; didn't I play the Mendelssohn Concerto with her? So
that's all right, and I mean to get her to play with me a lot, if she
will. I like to play with the piano, only you so seldom find any
one--any pianist--who understands the violin; they are generally
thinking about their own playing. But--well, what was I saying? It is so
jolly to be talking one's own language again, and talking to you. I just
want to go on and on, whether I say anything or not."
"So I infer!" said Hildegarde.
"Oh, I say!" cried Jack again. "But--well, to go back to these
people,--there are a lot of them, aren't there? A lot of fellows, or
something?"
"There are!" said Hildegarde, gravely "Here are two of them coming now,
Jack. These are the twins, Phil and Gerald; they are particularly nice
fellows, and I want you to meet them."
"Look here, Hilda! I can't, you know. I'm going to cut across the field
here. I didn't expect to see anybody this first morning. You won't mind
if I--"
"I shall mind very much indeed!" said Hildegarde, with decision. "Jack,
you must not be absurd! You are behaving like a child.
"Oh, good-morning, Phil! Good-morning, Gerald! I am so glad to see you!
This is my cousin, John Ferrers, who came last night, and is staying at
Roseholme. Jack, these are my neighbours, Philip and Gerald
Merryweather."
The three bowed with mutual distrust.
"Glad to see you!" said Phil, in a tone which contradicted his words.
"Fine morning!" said Gerald. "You had a pretty rough passage, I ho--I'm
afraid!"
"Thanks!" said Jack, with a detestable little drawl, which Hildegarde
had never heard before. "I had an excellent passage."
The three drew back and looked at each other, so exactly like strange
dogs that the tails only were wanting, it seemed to Hildegarde. She had
difficulty in keeping her countenance. "What a comfort," she thought,
"if I could only shake them all, and tell them to behave themselves!"
But outwardly she was calm and smiling, looking from one scowling face
to the other as if all were wreathed in smiles.
"And whither are you bound, boys?" she asked. "And what frolic is there
on hand for to-day? If the snow would only come! I do want some
tobogganing."
"There is good skating on Jimmy's Pond!" said Gerald. "We were just
coming to see if you would go this afternoon, Hilda."
At the familiar name, Jack Ferrers glared so ferociously that Hildegarde
almost expected to hear him bark, and to see him spring at the other
lad's throat. Gerald perceived the impression, and hastened in pure
malice to deepen it.
"I have been counting on a skate with you, Hilda; you remember the last
we had together? I never shall forget it!"
Now Hildegarde had never skated with Gerald in her life, and she had no
idea of putting up with this kind of thing.
"I shall be delighted to come!" she said, with a little ring of steel in
her voice that all three lads knew very well; "if you can find a pair of
skates for my cousin. I know you have a whole closet full of them. You
would like very much to come, Jack? Very well, then, that is settled! We
will be ready at three o'clock. Good-morning, boys! Bell and Gertrude
will come, too, of course!"
And with a quick, decided nod she walked on, Jack following after, after
a defiant bow which was returned with interest.
The cousins walked on in silence for a few steps; then--
"I don't think you really misunderstood what I said, Hildegarde!" said
Jack, coldly. "I did _not_ say that I should like to go skating. I said
I should be unable to go. Of course it is of no consequence."
"Of none in the world!" said Hildegarde, turning upon him with gleaming
eyes. "The absurd behaviour of three ridiculous boys,--Jack! How could
you? I was so mortified,--so ashamed of you all! All! But you are my
own; I am responsible for your behaviour. I never--" but here she caught
a glimpse of Jack's face, and suddenly burst into a fit of laughter.
"Oh, it was so funny! Jack, none of you will ever know how funny it was.
I am very angry, but I--cannot--help laughing."
"I am glad you are amused!" said Jack Ferrers, stiffly. "It was worth
while to come home for that."
"Jack! I--I won't laugh any more--if I can help it! Oh, dear! If you had
only seen--"
But Hildegarde saw that her cousin was really hurt. Instantly she
controlled her laughter, and laid her hand quietly on his arm.
"Dear lad," she said, "you are not really angry, any more than I was.
Dear Jack, think about it a little!"
They walked on in silence. Jack was still smarting under a sense of
injury; yet the steady, friendly hand on his arm seemed to smooth down
his ruffled feelings, whether he would or no.
"You know how it is," he said, presently, speaking in a more natural
voice. "I have been thinking so long about the home-coming! I thought it
was going to be--just the same. I thought I should have you all to
myself; and now--"
"Jack, dear," said Hildegarde, quietly, "are you thinking of falling in
love with me, by any chance?"
Jack looked down at her with startled eyes.
"Why--no! I wasn't, Hilda; but I will, if you want me to. I--what makes
you say that? I thought we were brother and sister."
"I thought so, too," said Hildegarde, smiling. "But if my brother is
going to show his teeth and growl at all the other dogs--I mean boys--he
meets, I don't think I shall find it comfortable. There was a dog in a
manger once; perhaps you have heard of him."
Jack winced, but owned he had.
"And--and even if you were not my brother," Hildegarde went on, "the
idea of being jealous of the twins is so funny that--well, when you
know them, Jack, you will laugh as much as I did. They are not that
_kind_ of boy, at all. No boys were ever less so."
"That red-haired fellow," said Jack, still distrustful; "what was he
saying about skating with you before? I thought he _sounded_ decidedly
spoony, Hilda. I won't be disagreeable any more, but I say this
seriously."
"Gerald! naughty, naughty Gerald! that was so like him! He is quick as a
flash, Jack, and he said that just to torment you. I have never skated
with him in my life; I never knew them till this last summer. Oh, he is
such a funny boy! Come on, and I will tell you some of his pranks as we
go along!"
* * * * *
Gerald and Philip Merryweather walked home in moody silence. They came
upon a loose stone, and kicked it along before them with savage and
purposeful kicks. Neither mentioned the fact of the stone's representing
any particular person, but when either made a specially successful
kick, he looked at the other for sympathy, and found it in a grim nod
and chuckle. Only once did they break silence.
"Poor Codger!" said Gerald.
"H'm!" growled Philip, assenting.
"Know when he's coming?"
"No! Don't suppose it will make any difference, though."
"S'pose not!"
"H'm!"
"H'm!"
Reaching the house, they sat down on the steps and pitched gravel stones
in gloomy rivalry. So sitting, it chanced that Bell came upon them;
Bell, with a face more than commonly bright (though she was always one
of the most cheerful of mortals), with her hands full of ground pine,
fresh from a walk in the woods, humming a fragment of the Mendelssohn
Concerto.
"What's the matter with my boys?" she demanded, promptly.
"Nothing!" responded the twins, with alacrity. And they lowered like
toppling thunderclouds.
"Then tell me all about it!" said Sister Bell, sitting down on the step,
and taking a hand of each.
"What happened to my twinnies? Did some one throw away their tadpoles,
or did the dog eat their molasses candy?"
This allusion to early misfortunes could generally bring a smile, but
this time it failed, and Bell looked from one to the other in genuine
concern.
"Phil! Jerry! What is it?" she asked again. "Oh, there has been no bad
news, boys? Roger!--"
Gerald groaned.
"Roger!" he said. "That's just it, Bell! No, nothing of the kind you
mean. He's well, poor dear old Codger. Better than he will be, when he
hears what is going on."
"What _is_ going on? Come, boys, I really must know."
"We met Hilda just now," said Gerald. "Her cousin's come; kind of
fiddler-chap from Germany. I'm afraid it's all up with the Codger,
Bell."
"Indeed!" said Bell, quietly. "And what makes you think that, Jerry?"
"Oh, we met them just now! He--he's about nine feet tall, to begin
with."
"That _is_ a beginning! Where does he expect to end? But I have seen Mr.
Ferrers, Jerry. I saw him last night."
"You did? Why didn't you tell a fellow?"
"Oh, I--I--hardly know!" said downright Bell, unused to even the whitest
fib. She really could not, perhaps, have put into words the feeling that
had kept her silent about the scene of the night before.
"But that is no matter!" she went on. "What else is the matter with him,
besides height? He can't help that, you know."
"I don't suppose he can. But he can help making up to Hilda, Bell, and
he'd better!" savagely. "Only it's too late now, I suppose!"
despondently. "Why on earth the fellow couldn't stay and fiddle over
there, where he's wanted,--don't admire their taste, by the
way!--instead of coming over here to spoil everything, is more than _I_
know!"
"Horrid shame!" murmured Phil, taking careful aim with a pebble at an
innocent cat that was crossing the lawn.
Bell struck his hand up.
"I won't have the cats teased, Phil! And as for all this nonsense--"
"It isn't nonsense!" cried both boys, earnestly.
"I tell you we met them just now," Gerald went on, "and when he saw us,
he looked black as thunder, and had hardly manners to speak to us.
Perfectly odious; wasn't he, Ferguson?"
"Absolutely!" echoed Phil.
"And you were very cordial to him, of course?" said Bell. "You let him
see that you were glad to meet him, and that as Hilda's warm friends you
were anxious to welcome her cousin cordially, and to show him all the
courtesy you could?"
The twins looked at each other. Bell had an extraordinary way of putting
things sometimes.
"We didn't do anything of the sort!" said Phil, with an attempt at
bluster.
"Because if you did not," his sister went on, "I am afraid you must
have seemed very rude, my children. Rude and silly!"
"I wouldn't call names, Tintinnabula!" said Gerald, turning red.
"Sorry to be obliged to," retorted his sister, in perfect good humour.
"But if you looked at Mr. Ferrers as you are looking now, there really
can be no doubt about the matter. Now listen, boys! I know--Hilda has
told me--a great deal about this Mr. Jack Ferrers. Hilda loves him
dearly, as dearly as if he were her own brother, and in exactly the same
way. You need not shake your heads and try to look wise, my dears,
because you are _not_ wise! You are two very foolish boys, who are
trying to run your heads against a stone wall when there is no wall
there. That is the state of the case about Mr. Ferrers. I know
Hildegarde pretty well, and I am sure of what I am saying. You need have
no fear of him. As for Roger,--well, I don't think you need have any
fear for Roger either."
"Has he--has she--do you think they are--"
"Hush!" cried Bell, putting a hand over the mouth of each. "I don't
think anything! At least--well, that isn't true, of course; but it does
no good to talk about these things, dear boys. I do not think Hilda and
Roger are--are engaged." Bell dropped her voice to a whisper. "But I
feel quite sure they will be some day, when the time comes. I think they
understand each other very well. Roger will be here soon; suppose you
leave it all to him, Phil and Jerry, and don't worry about it. But there
is one thing you can do, and it should be done soon."
"What?" cried both boys, eagerly.
"Put on your good clothes, and your good manners, and go to call at
Roseholme."
"We'll be shot if we will!" cried the twins.
"Be just as nice as you know how to be to Mr. Jack Ferrers. He--he is a
remarkable person, I have reason to think. You see," she spoke rather
hastily, "Hilda has told me so much about him. And I--well, I heard him
play last night, and he is a very wonderful performer, boys. You never,
in your little lives, heard anything like his playing. He is too much
in love with his art to think of any such nonsense as has been troubling
your silly heads; you will understand that, the moment you hear him."
Gerald made a feeble protest to the effect that he hated fiddling, but
there was little hope in his tone. And he was promptly reminded of his
having spent his last fifty cents the winter before on a ticket for
Sarasate's concert, and saying that it was the best investment he ever
made.
The boys knew that their cause was lost; and when Bell added, as a
clincher, "Ask Mammy, and see what she says," they retired from the
unequal contest.
"Oh, we know what Mammy will say! Don't hit us when we are down, Bell.
We'll go, and make asses of ourselves as well as we know how."
"Oh, not that, dears, I entreat!" cried Bell; and then ran swiftly into
the house, laughing.
The twins resumed their occupation of pitching gravel stones, but a
change had come over their spirits. Phil was actually whistling, and
Gerald hummed a bass with perfect cheerfulness. The cat came back across
the lawn, and they threw stones before her nose and behind her tail,
avoiding contact with her person (for she was a beloved cat, in hours of
joy), and contenting themselves with seeing her skip hither and thither
in uninjured surprise.
"Philly!"
"Yes, Jerry!"
"Us feels a lot better, don't us, Philly?"
"H'm!" said Phil, and the sound was now one of content and peace.
"She's not a bad sort, the Tintinnabula!" Gerald went on, meditatively.
"She doesn't harry a fellow, as some fellows' sisters do. She pokes you
up and smooths you down at the same time, somehow. That's the way a girl
ought to be--my opinion. Come along, Ferguson, and let's do something to
celebrate!"
"All right!" said Phil. "What shall we do?"
"Oh, any old thing! Come along!"
And they went and wrestled in the conservatory, and broke three
flower-pots, and had a delightful morning.