“I hope you are not going home?”
“Yes, cousin, I shall go tomorrow. I wish you would bear the
intelligence to your father and mother and entreat them to let Cousin
Warren take me to the village in time to take the coach for home
tomorrow. I do not care to ask him, as he will question me. Mother will
be looking for me in a day or so and I concluded to go tomorrow.”
She gave her hand to her cousin, saying: “We will go down to the hall
now or the company may think it strange we are both gone.”
They went along the corridor as placidly as if nothing had transpired to
mar the pleasure of the evening.
They came to where Warren stood toying with the tassel of the window
curtain and looking out into the moonlight with deeply-troubled
thoughts.
“Where have you been, you little rogue? we have been looking for you for
some time.”
“She has been packing her trunk to go home tomorrow morning: I cannot
get her to stay any longer,” said Minnie.
“What has caused you to make such a quick decision? I supposed you were
going to stay with us two or three weeks. Something has offended you I
fear, or you would not decide so quickly to go home.”
“No, Warren, nothing has happened of any account: please don’t scold
me,” said Nettie sorrowfully, as she was nearly overcome with the burden
on her mind.
She turned her head away to hide the tears from prying eyes. She turned
to go when Warren said, “Please excuse my last words, cousin, I did not
wish to scold you. See! yonder comes Mr. Burton. He is coming this way.”
He was calm but pale. As he drew near to them he said, “Mr. Hilton, get
my hat please; it is time for me to be going.”
As Warren left to do his bidding Paul said, “Miss Spaulding, if I have
said aught to offend you, pardon me. As God is my witness, what I have
told you is the truth. I will do as you have bidden me to do, and I ask
in return to remember me some times when alone.”
He gently pressed the little hand he was holding.
“Goodbye, and may God bless you forever,” said Paul solemnly.
Soon Warren came with the hat, and Paul taking it bid them all good
night and went homeward in a sad frame of mind.
One hope she had given him, viz: “If you prove faithful to me in the
future I am yours.”
These words cheered him, and he fully resolved to be true to her until
death.
“What can be her object. Can it be she thinks she is not good enough for
me financially?” thus murmured Paul until he reached home.
He found his mother sitting up. She had been having a serious spell of
heart disease and dared not lie down. As he entered the room she was
sitting in she said, “My son, why did you come so soon? I did not expect
you for some time yet.”
“It is nearly twelve, mother, and I am sorry I stayed so long. You have
been sick, and are now, only wishing to keep me in ignorance of how bad
you really are. You look very ill mother. Why do you sit up so long?”
asked her son, bending over her and pressing a kiss on her fair brow.
“My son,” answered his mother, “I have the heart disease, and I fear you
will soon have no mother. I see it is growing worse with me with every
attack, as I cannot lie down after one now.”
“Oh! mother, do not speak so sadly. Shall I go for a doctor tonight?”
“It would do me no good. I have tried the best-skilled physicians there
are on the continent and they unite in saying I must be kept quiet or I
will some day be no more. I have prayed that I might live to see you
grown to manhood, and that prayer is answered and now I am willing to go
when God sees fit to call me.”
His mother was speaking in a sorrowful tone. Paul sat like a statue,
pale as death.
“Oh! mother, it cannot be,” he spoke at last. “I can not part with you;
you who are all the companion I have on earth,” answered Paul in
frightened tones.
“My son you will not miss me much when you catch that ‘little human
fish’ you spoke of the other day. Oh! if you should marry her I pray she
may prove a true, honest wife to you. Then you will lead a happy life.”
“Oh, mother, may your last few words be true! Time works wonders in this
world sometimes. I hope you may live long with me, then you will see
what a dutiful son you have,” answered Paul, the tears falling thick and
fast.
The nurse came in with a cup of strong tea for his mother, and Paul
arose as he said, “Take good care of my mother and I will repay you
well.”
He kissed his mother again and went off to bed but not to sleep. Try as
he might no sleep came to his eyes. Early the next morning he arose,
took his shot gun and went out to see if he could kill a pheasant, to
make some broth for his mother.
The next morning after the party Mr. Hilton said to his niece as she
came down to breakfast: “You did not receive much pleasure by the party
I fear, Nettie. Warren has been telling me you wish to start for home
this morning. I hope my children have not done anything to mar your
pleasure here.”
“Uncle, they have done nothing to mar my happiness,” answered Nettie,
with a dreary laugh that touched her uncle’s heart.
“Will you promise me if you and your mother ever come to want that you
will come and live with us? Our house is large and you are both welcome
to its shelter.”
Nettie went gently to him, planted a kiss on his fair, honest forehead
and said, “I promise. Never can I forget the kindness I have received at
this new home, or forget the inmates that dwell here.”
The eyes of all of her friends were filled with tears to see the sweet
young girl, who, standing smoothing her uncle’s silvery hair, was
outwardly calm, but a deep trouble was raging in her breast, as she
wished to stay but could not and did not wish to let any of her friends
know the real cause.
Her aunt said, “My dear, something has transpired to make you decide so
quickly to go home. We expected you were going to remain two or three
weeks with us.”
“Nothing, auntie, only my conception to go home and surprise mamma. She
will be very delighted to hear from you all. Of course I shall tell her
what a pleasant time I have had with my cousins. It is getting late and
we should be going soon or we will not be in time to take the stage, as
it leaves at ten.” So saying she began putting on her mantle and cap. As
her cousin Warren drove up to the door with a splendid span of iron
grays, he called out lightly, “All aboard for town.”
“Auntie, are you and cousin Minnie not going to see me off for home?”
“No, my dear, we cannot go with you, as we have these rooms to make
tidy. Warren will see you safe there and in the coach, too.”
Nettie bade her friends good-bye and was still lingering at the door, as
she was loath to leave her new found home.
“I will come back here some day perhaps, and then I will stay longer; or
long enough to make you wish there never more could come a Nettie
Spaulding to trouble you,” said Nettie, feigning a laugh.
“Never you need be afraid of that,” answered her uncle, “come and see us
and stay as long as ever you can. We will be most happy to see you.”
“Thank you, uncle, I will return soon no doubt.”
She tripped lightly out, and Warren handed her into the buggy, and soon
the two cousins went from that farmhouse in a very sad mood, as Nettie
was leaving her new found friends to go back to the great busy city to
live within herself, as her old associates avoided her, or she avoided
them, as she could not meet them as of old.
Warren was sad, as he did not wish his little cousin to leave them. She
was like a sunbeam in the dear old home, and he had taken great pleasure
in getting the two young people together who he thought were best suited
to each other. Now his pleasures were ended, as his cousin was going
home.
“If she was not my cousin,” he would say to himself, “I would try to win
her affections, but that word cousin casts all into oblivion as far as I
am concerned.”
As they were driving over the rough country roads, Warren said, “Little
cousin, there is something wrong or you would not be leaving us so soon;
is there not?”
“Warren,” she said, bursting into tears, “God alone knows the misery I
have endured since last evening. You say you are my friend; I believe
you, as you seem to take great interest in my welfare. I am going home
to live like a hermit, in a great city. As such always think of me. I
would like to stay, but it can not be,” she exclaimed passionately.
“He is rich and I am poor. I can not stay and be a temptation to one who
is dearer to me than life. If he proves true then all is well, if not,
then God pity me.”
Warren was listening to her passionate words, while tears stood in his
honest blue eyes as he said, “Paul Burton is a man of honor. If he told
my little cousin he loved her it is the truth, as I have known him for
many years, or ever since I can remember a playmate, and I never have
caught him in a lie.”
Nettie was weeping violently as she said, “Please write to me often, and
write all the news about him, but do not tell him one word about me. If
he really loves me he will find me, if not, it is better as it is.”
She spoke sadly.
“I will do as you have bidden me,” said Warren, “and prove to you that I
am a true friend.”
Suddenly the crack of a gun was heard. The horses sprang forward and
nearly threw the young couple out of the buggy.
“I wonder who is out sporting so early this morning,” said Nettie.
“It sounds like Paul’s gun,” said Warren, as he gently drew up the reins
of the horses and brought them to a walk.
“I wonder how Paul’s mother is this morning. He said she was not very
well last night. Perhaps he is out to kill something for her.”
“Has his mother been sick very long?” asked Nettie.
“She is a tall, frail woman, and she has very bad spells. Some people
say she has heart disease,” said Warren.
“I am very sorry indeed. It would be very sad for him to have his mother
taken from him. I really hope to hear when you write that she is
better.”
They went slowly up to the little village hotel. The stage was about to
start.
As Warren handed her down he said, “Do not forget to write me all your
troubles, cousin, and I will write you the news. I will give the same
injunction to come and live with us as father did.”
“Thank you for your kindness. I shall never forget you or the dear ones
I left in my new home by the lake,” answered Nettie.
“Have you no word for Paul?”
“Yes, cousin, tell him good bye, to be upright and honest in all his
endeavors, and God will deal justly by him. Good bye, cousin,” said
Nettie.
As she took a seat in the stage she peeped out of the window and said,
“Write me often, and please send me the village newspaper if you do not
think I am asking too much. I will send the change when I arrive home.”
“I will go and order it sent you so you will get it next week,” said
Warren.
The stage started on its long journey to the city, bearing one sad
little being on her way for home.
How happy it makes one feel to unburden a troubled mind to a true
friend, and it seems to make the heart lighter to have words of
consolation given in the hour of trial from a true, loving friend. Many
a young person and many aged ones can bring back to memory the same
solemn fact.
Thus it was with Nettie as she went homeward. Warren’s kind words ever
rang in her ears: “He is a man of honor; if he told my little cousin he
loved her it is the truth.”
How many times in the future did she think of them and draw consolation
from them.
Warren watched the stage that bore his cousin homeward until it was out
of sight, then started homeward at a brisk pace.
He had not gone but a few miles when he overtook Paul returning from
hunting. On his shoulder hung several pheasants.
Warren brought his horses to a halt as he said, “Take a seat by my side,
Paul, it is better to ride than to walk. Are you not tired? You must
have gone out early this morning, as I heard the report of your gun when
I went to town.”
“Yes,” answered his companion getting into the buggy, “I came out very
early, as mother is not as well as usual and I thought some wild food
would be good for her. I fear my mother is not long for this world, as
she is failing every day. I sent Pompey for the doctor this morning, but
mother says it will do no good, as she is past cure. Oh, Warren, I do
not know what to do or where to turn, for I am in deep trouble. Why
don’t you come over oftener and stay some night with us?”
“Would your mother be willing? She is so delicate about company,”
answered Warren.
“She would be very happy indeed to see me have company,” said Paul.
“I will come over in a day or so,” said Warren.
“Please do, Warren, in an hour of need, as I am very lonely—mother sick,
and she is my only companion except the servants.”
They came to a cross road that was nearer for Paul to reach home and he
sprang lightly out and ran swiftly home with his game.
Nettie’s homeward journey came to an end in due season, nothing
happening of any account worth mentioning. As she came sooner than her
mother expected her she was surprised to see her child back again.
In less than a week after greetings were exchanged and many questions
asked about distant friends the mother said, “Why, Nettie my child, why
did you not stay longer? I did not expect you for two weeks at least.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------