offered, talk to Mildred by the hour of his "abstruse studies" and the
lighter literature with which he found it necessary to "unbend his mind
from them," till she voted him an intolerable bore, and he became the
laughing stock of her younger brothers and sisters, who found his
clumsy, lumbering movements, self-conceit, and egotistical discourse so
mirth-provoking that they learned to be on the lookout for him and to
find excuses for remaining in the room while he staid; in which last
endeavor they received every encouragement from Mildred.
Meanwhile so blinded by egotism was the man, that he supposed himself an
object of great admiration to them, and had little, if any doubt, that
the whole family were ready to receive him with open arms whenever he
should make formal proposals for Mildred's hand.
He was a shoemaker by trade; had a little shop in the principal business
street of the town, just opposite the store of Chetwood and
Mocker,--Claudina's brother and cousin.
Mr. Keith had opened an office next door to them and Wallace Ormsby was
diligently studying law with him.
Nicholas with a soul above his last, sometimes envied Wallace the
prospective distinction of being a member of one of the learned
professions, and while busied with his waxed ends and awl, considered
the propriety of offering himself to Mr. Keith as a student and
son-in-law both in one.
He finally decided that the proposal to Mildred should be made first,
the other to follow immediately upon her joyful acceptance.
Winter had come in earnest; the ground had frozen hard and a heavy fall
of snow upon this good foundation had made excellent sleighing; the
young folk were jubilant over it, and more than one plan for its
enjoyment had been set afloat.
"Mornin', Nick, see here, I want you to make me a pair o' new boots; put
your very best work on to 'em," said Gotobed Lightcap, entering
Ransquattle's shop after a moment's vigorous kicking and stamping of the
snow from his feet upon the doorstep.
"All right, Gote. Sit down and off with your boot," returned Nicholas,
putting down his last and taking up his measures.
"Let me have 'em as soon as you can," said Gotobed. "And be sure to make
'em a neat fit," he added, laughing, "else they'll, maybe be throwed
back on your hands."
"They'll give satisfaction, you may depend," returned Ransquattle,
straightening himself and throwing his head back on his shoulders in his
accustomed fashion; "whatever I undertake is always done in the best
style."
"Eh! I hadn't noticed that," said Gotobed, innocently. "You're goin' to
the sleighin' to-morrow night, I s'pose?"
"Yes; and I calculate to take Mildred Keith."
"You do!" Lightcap ejaculated in tones of mingled anger and inquiry, his
brows knitting wrathfully, a hot flush dyeing his swarthy cheek. "Have
you asked her? got her consent?"
"Her? what her? may I ask?" queried Yorke Mocker, coming in as Gotobed's
question was propounded, Wallace Ormsby close at his heels.
"No, I haven't asked her yet, but I shall in the course of the day; and
now I warn you fellows that she's my choice and you may each pick out
some other girl to take to the sleighing."
"Indeed! and may I ask how you came by the right to the first pick?"
"I've as much right to Mildred Keith as anybody else, Mr. Mocker; more,
I should say; for I'm going to marry her."
There was a simultaneous explosion of astonishment and indignation at
his presumption, from Mocker and Ormsby, while Lightcap, thinking no one
would dare speak with such confident boasting who had not received great
encouragement, turned pale, then flushed again as he picked up and drew
on the boot he had just taken off.
"I admire the modesty of the man," remarked Ormsby with cutting sarcasm.
"I presume you will find the young lady ready to drop into your arms at
the first hint of your intentions."
"Of course, since it must be evident to her that she couldn't possibly
do any better," sneered Yorke. "Pray, when did you learn that you were
such a favorite?"
"I flatter myself that I do not lack discernment," returned Ransquattle,
with unmoved self-complaisance, as he entered his measurements in his
book, then used his coat-tail as a pen-wiper. "Anything I can do for you
this morning, gentlemen?"
"No," growled Ormsby, "but there's something I can do for you; namely,
save you the trouble of asking Miss Keith to go with you to-morrow night
by informing you that she has already consented to allow me to be her
escort."
"Is that so?" exclaimed Ransquattle, reddening with anger and
disappointment. "Well, I must say I think it's very unfair; the way you
fellows always get ahead of the rest of us."
"So do I," said Gotobed, leaving the shop and walking away in moody
discontent; too much chagrined at learning that he had no chance, to
enjoy the discomfiture of Nicholas.
"There has been no unfair dealing about it," retorted Ormsby, shortly,
as he and Mocker followed Gotobed into the street; in their anger and
excitement quite forgetting the errand that had brought them to
Ransquattle's shop, viz., to borrow his horse and sleigh for the
proposed expedition, in case he were not going to make use of them
himself.
They crossed the street, joined Will Chetwood in the store, and roused
his ire also by a recital of what had just occurred.
Ransquattle was angry too. "No unfair dealing about it, eh!" he
muttered, looking after them. "Well, I say there has been; they've
managed to keep other fellows at a distance from the girl without any
regard to her wishes. But I'll soon put a stop to that game, my lads.
See if I don't."
He took a letter from his pocket as he spoke, unfolded it, handling it
tenderly, and glanced over the contents with a smile of
self-congratulation.
"Ah, ha! we'll see if she'll be able to resist this!" he said, half
aloud, as he refolded and returned it to its place in the breast-pocket
of his coat.
A sleigh was at that moment standing at the front door of the yellow
house on the corner and into it Mr. Keith was assisting his wife and
aunt. Then followed the babe and the three next in age. They were going
to the country, to spend the day with their Lansdale acquaintances, the
Wards.
Mildred, Rupert, Zillah and Ada stood in the doorway to see them off.
"You won't be back to tea?" Mildred said inquiringly.
"No; but by bedtime," her father answered as he turned the horses'
heads. "Now go in, all of you, out of the cold before you catch the
ague."
"What did Claudina say?" asked Mildred, addressing Rupert as they
obeyed the order.
"Yes, of course; isn't she always glad of a chance to come here?"
"That's good. How soon?"
"In about half an hour, I believe she said. So you'd better hear Ada's
lessons and have them out of the way."
It was some weeks now since Ada's heart had been rejoiced by a final
deliverance from Miss Drybread's control and a return to the instruction
of her sister. Mr. Lord still kept up his class and Mildred's zeal for
study had not abated, but the minister had a funeral to attend at a
distant point that afternoon; so there would be no recitations to
interfere with the pleasure of a day with Claudina. Celestia Ann still
kept her position in the family, and though only ten o'clock, the house
was in order, and dinner and tea would require no supervision by the
eldest daughter of the house.
Claudina brought her sewing, and the two passed an uneventful, but
pleasant day together, chatting over their work or reading aloud in
turn; for Claudina was nearly as great a lover of books as was Mildred.
Their talk was not largely of their neighbors, but some jests passed
between them at Ransquattle's expense. They were quite severe in their
criticisms, as young things are too apt to be; but if the ears of the
victim burned it was not enough to prevent the act of folly he had in
contemplation.
Tea was over, Miss Hunsinger had removed the dishes to the kitchen;
Mildred spread a bright colored cover over the table, placed the candles
on it, and she and Claudina settled themselves to their sewing again;
Zillah and Ada were the only other occupants of the room, Rupert having
gone out.
Presently there came a knock at the outer door.
"I'll go," said Ada, running to open it.
A man, Nicholas Ransquattle, stood on the threshold. Stepping past the
child without speaking, he made directly for Mildred, and silently
extended his right hand, between the thumb and forefinger of which he
held a letter.
In a sort of maze the girl took it, and with one of his profound
obeisances, of one of which Cyril had remarked, "I thought he was going
to squattle on the stove when he put his head down so low," he withdrew
without having spoken a word.
They could hear the crackling of the snow under his heavy tread as he
walked away.
"O Milly, what is it? what is it? what did he bring it for? had he been
to the post-office?" the little girls were asking with eager curiosity.
Mildred turned to Claudina. They looked into each other's eyes for a
moment, then burst into a simultaneous hearty laugh.
"Did ever you see such a comical performance?"
"Never! It's addressed to you of course?"
"Yes."
Seizing a candle, laughing and blushing, "Come, help me to read it,"
Mildred said. "We'll go up stairs where we won't be disturbed."
"Mayn't we go too? mayn't we know what your letter's about?" pleaded the
little girls as the older ones were hurrying away.
"No, no! tisn't the sort for children like you to know about," laughed
the sister. "Be good and stay here. We won't be gone long; and some day,
perhaps, I'll tell you what it says."
They hurried through the kitchen where Miss Hunsinger was vigorously
setting things to rights, up the crooked stairway and on into Aunt
Wealthy's room, fastened the door and proceeded to examine the missive.
It was an offer to Miss Mildred Keith, of the heart, hand and fortune of
the writer, Nicholas Ransquattle, who denominated himself her devoted
worshiper and slave, and addressed her as an angel and the loveliest and
sweetest of created beings. The girls giggled over it at first, but at
length Mildred threw it down in supreme disgust.
"Such stuff and nonsense! it's perfectly sickening! I'm anything but an
angel; especially when I lose my temper. And I believe I'm losing it
now; for I feel insulted by an offer from such a conceited booby!"
"Somebody's coming!" exclaimed Claudina.
"Yes; Rupert. I know his step. Well, Ru, what is it?" as the boy rapped
lightly on the door.
"Why before you answer that letter and accept the fellow, let me tell
you something."
Mildred threw open the door.
"Who told you I had one?"
"The children told me about old Nick bringing you a letter," he answered
laughing, but looking angry too, "and it's easy enough to guess the
subject; particularly since I heard a bit of news over yonder at the
smithy. Gote Lightcap says he heard him--old Nick--boasting this
morning, before several young men, that he was going to marry Mildred
Keith."
For a minute or more Mildred did not speak; she had probably never felt
so angry in all her life.
"The conceited puppy!" she cried at last, "wouldn't I like to take some
of it out of him!"
"Good for you!" cried Rupert clapping his hands. "I knew you'd be mad.
And wouldn't I like to horsewhip him for his impudence?"
"But it isn't right," said Mildred, already cooling down a little and
ashamed of her outburst. "You couldn't thrash him, Ru, but instead you
shall, if you will, have the pleasure of carrying him my answer."
"Tell me what it is first."
Mildred took the letter and wrote, in pencil, beneath the signature,
"The above offer is positively declined; all future visits on the part
of the writer also," and signed her name. "There, return it," she said,
"with the information that it is my final reply."
[Illustration]
Chapter Sixteenth.
"Oh jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship,
Thou worst invader of our tender bosoms:
How does thy rancour poison all our softness,
And turn our gentle natures into bitterness!"
--ROWE.
THE news was too good to keep, and Rupert could not forbear stopping at
the smithy on his return and giving Gotobed a hint of how matters stood.
To say that the certainty of a decided rejection of Ransquattle's suit
lifted a burden of anxiety from young Lightcap's mind, is not an
over-estimate of the relief the boy's communication afforded him.
He had been moody and depressed since his visit of the morning to
Ransquattle's shop, and had refused to give Rhoda Jane any satisfaction
as to his intentions in regard to making one of the sleighing party of
the following evening. She was therefore agreeably surprised when toward
bed-time he came, in quite a merry mood, into the kitchen where she sat
sewing alone, their mother having stepped out to see a neighbor, to tell
her that he had decided to go.
"Well, I'm glad of it," she said, "and who are you going to take?"
He colored at the question and answered almost doggedly, "I'm going
after Sarah Miller."
"Why don't you ask Mildred Keith?"
"'Cause there ain't no use; Ormsby's headed me off there."
"Yes; an' if you don't look out, with yer pokin' ways, he'll head you
off altogether, and marry her afore you know it."
"She ain't goin' off in such a hurry," he muttered, drumming on the
table with his fingers; then jumping up from his chair and going over to
the stove, making a pretense of warming himself that he might avoid the
keen scrutiny of his sister's sharp eyes; "but what's the use o' me a
tryin' with all them fellers round?"
"Gote Lightcap, I'm ashamed of you!" exclaimed Rhoda Jane. "If I was a
man I'd have more pluck by a long shot. 'Twouldn't be me that would let
any feller get ahead where I was amind to go in and win."
"You don't know nothin' about it," he retorted, lighting a candle and
stalking off to bed.
"Dear me, if he only had half my spunk!" said Rhoda Jane, looking after
him with scornful eyes and a curling lip.
The wish was echoed more than once in his heart as he lay awake far into
the night revolving the subject in his mind, and filled with longings,
doubts and fears.
He had been so greatly rejoiced over the downfall of Ransquattle's
hopes; yet after all what did it avail him while the other three, whose
superiority he could not help acknowledging to himself, remained in the
way? Alas, there was no great cause for exultation that one rival out of
four had been removed from his path.
Still was it quite certain that they were all rivals? might it not be
that Miss Chetwood or Miss Grange was the more attractive girl to one or
all of them? The six were so constantly seen together, the attentions of
the three young men were so equally divided between the three girls,
that who could tell how they were going to pair off, if at all?
Besides there was no accounting for tastes and a lady didn't always
select that one from among her admirers whom other people in general
considered the most desirable match. There was yet a spark of hope for
him, but--ah if he only had Rhoda Jane's pluck and energy of
determination!
Near sunset of the next day a large omnibus sleigh drawn by four horses
with jingling bells, and well supplied with buffalo robes and other
appliances for keeping the cold at bay, went from house to house in
Pleasant Plains, picking up the girls and "boys" to the number of a
dozen or more--a very merry company--then glided swiftly on over the
snow for some six or eight miles.
The sleighing was fine, the weather not severe; the moon rose soon after
the setting of the sun, and the girls being well muffled up in hoods,
cloaks and other wraps, were warm and cosy, and vastly enjoyed the ride.
Of course the lads did the same. They laughed, jested and sang, and
found time fly as swiftly as the horses; who seemed to make nothing of
their load.
The destination of the party was a hotel in a neighboring village, where
a supper had been ordered for them some days before. It was served up,
hot and savory, shortly after their arrival.
A couple of hours were afterward spent in the parlor of the hotel, in
social chat and playing games; and here they were joined by Mr. Timothy
Buzzard, who taught a singing school in this town also.
"There's another rival," thought Gotobed, jealously watching him
carrying on a lively conversation with Mildred; "'pears like every
body's after her; and I can't get no chance at all."
Rhoda Jane was equally jealous--partly for her brother, but still more
for herself; because last year Mr. Buzzard had waited upon her more than
on any other girl in Pleasant Plains, and she considered him her
property and "didn't fancy bein' cut out by no newcomer nor by anybody
else, for that matter."
Influenced by the desire to separate the two, she was the first to
suggest that it was time to start for home. She was agreeably surprised
that Mildred promptly seconded the motion.
Some objected, saying there was no hurry, but as it was now eleven
o'clock, these were overruled by the majority, and the sleigh was
presently announced as in readiness.
"Can't we make room for another passenger?" some one asked, as amid
laughter and jesting, they were crowding into the vehicle.
"Who is it?" queried another.
"Why, Buzzard would--"
"No, we hain't room for no more?" interrupted Gotobed. "We're not agoin'
to have the ladies crowded."
"Speak fur yerself, Gote Lightcap," spoke up Rhoda Jane with spirit.
"There ain't none of us so disobligin' as not to be willin' to scrouge a
little for the sake of accommodatin' a fellow critter in distress. Set
up a little closer, girls, and there'll be lots o' room."
"Yes; the more the merrier, and the closer the warmer," assented Sarah
Miller, Gote Lightcap's partner for the expedition, who had noticed with
vexation and chagrin his evident interest in Mildred Keith. "Come on,
Buzzard," making room for the singing teacher between Rhoda Jane and
herself.
"Thank you, ladies. I shall be a thorn between two roses," he said,
taking the offered seat with a laugh at his own stale jest.
"Now we've got the singing master along, let's have some music," said
Rhoda Jane, when they were fairly on their way.
"Yes, you'll be expected to pay your way Buzzard," remarked Ormsby.
"I hope I'll always be found willing to do that," he responded. "Miss
Lightcap, what shall I sing?"
Highly pleased that the choice was given her, Rhoda Jane promptly named
a love song she had heard him sing as a solo.
He gave it, then another, selected by Miss Miller, then turning to
Mildred,
"I think it is your turn now, Miss Keith," he said.
She proposed a round he had taught them that winter, saying all could
join in it.
All did so with right good will. Other rounds, glees, choruses and solos
followed. They sang on even after reaching Pleasant Plains; sang on till
but two or three were left as one after another was set down at his or
her own door.
A light burned in the parlor at Mr. Keith's and the front door was
opened before the sleigh had quite drawn up to it.
"Poor, dear mother! what a shame to have kept you up so long!" Mildred
exclaimed as she came in.
"Never mind," was the cheerful reply. "Here's a good warm fire; take
this arm-chair close to it, and don't remove any of your wraps till you
cease to feel chilly. I should have prepared you some hot lemonade but
for one little difficulty in the way; no lemons to be had. Coffee would
keep you awake; but you shall have a glass of good rich milk; either
hot or cold, as you prefer. Now tell me what sort of a time you had."
"I wish every girl had such a mother as mine," Mildred said, smiling
fondly up into the face she loved so well. "I verily believe I take as
much pleasure in recounting my adventures to you as in going through
them. And it is so nice to have so safe and wise and loving a
confidante.
"Mother, I have a great deal to tell you, not so much about what has
occurred to-night as of something that happened last night. I have been
looking for an opportunity all day, but without finding it; for you know
we were unusually busy all the morning and had company all the afternoon
till it was time for me to get ready for the sleigh-ride."
Mrs. Keith glanced at the face of a tall old-fashioned clock ticking in
a corner of the room.
"I want very much to hear your story, daughter; but if you can sleep
without having told it I think we will reserve it till to-morrow; for
see! it is now half-past twelve."
The girl would have been glad to unburden her mind and to learn if her
mother approved--not her rejection of Ransquattle--of that there could
be no doubt--but her manner of doing it; but that dear mother's face
cheerful though it was, told of physical exhaustion and need of sleep.
Mildred rose hastily. "High time then that we wore both in bed. My story
will keep perfectly well till to-morrow."
"Sit down and finish warming yourself," Mrs. Keith said, with a smile.
"I want to hear about to-night. We will keep the longer story for
to-morrow."
The Lightcaps found their house all dark the family had retired to bed
hours ago, but leaving the kitchen door unlocked and a good fire in the
stove.
"Good and warm in here," remarked Gotobed, feeling for the candle and
matches his mother was sure to have left on the table ready for them.
"Yes; feels comfortable. I shall set down and warm a bit 'fore I crawl
up to that there cold bed-room."
"Me too; don't expect to sleep none when I do get to bed," growled Gote,
as he succeeded in lighting the candle, after two or three ineffectual
attempts, and set it on the table again.
"Kind o' eggzited are ye?"
"Some. I say, what did you make room for that--"
"Don't swear;" she sneered, as he paused for a suitable cognomen to
bestow upon Buzzard.
"I wa'n't agoin' to!" he said angrily; "not but what I've sufficient
cause in your letting that unclean bird in amongst us decent folks."
"There now; that'll do fur to-night," she snapped. "Tim. Buzzard ain't
no more an unclean bird than you are; he's twicet as good lookin' and
sings like a nightingale.
"But now see here; don't let's quarrel, but go to work together to bring
things round right. You don't want him to cut you out with Mildred
Keith, and I don't want her to cut me out with him. So now you just
spunk up and pop the question right off. If you don't, one or other o'
them fellers'll get ahead o' you; you may just take my word for that."
Gotobed dropped his head into his hands and sighed deeply, then rose and
walked the floor.
Rhoda Jane watched him with an eager, half-contemptuous look.
"Well!" he said at length, "I wisht I knowed how!"
"Knowed how! you needn't make many words about it; 'tain't like makin'
up a sermon or a president's message."
"It's a heap more important; the happiness of a feller's whole life a
dependin' onto it."
Silence for some minutes, Rhoda Jane sitting meditatively before the
stove, her feet on its hearth, her hands clasped round her knees, while
her brother continued his restless walk.
She was the first to speak. "I'd write it out if I was you."
"I ain't used to writin' much."
"Well, you can get used to it; you can try and try till you've writ
somethin' that'll do."
"I couldn't write anything good enough for her to see."
"Then take t'other way."
"I don't never git no chance; and if I did I'd be tongue-tied, sure as
the world."
"Then you'll have to write it, and I'll help you!" concluded Rhoda Jane
with energy.
She arose as she spoke, picked up the candle, stepped quickly to a
corner shelf in the next room, whence she brought an inkstand and a
quill pen.
Setting these down on the kitchen table, she went back, and opening a
bureau drawer where miscellaneous articles were kept, fished out from
its depths a sheet of foolscap, which she spread out beside the
inkstand.
"That ain't nice enough," said Gotobed, eyeing it disapprovingly.
"Make it up on that and get better at the store to-morrow to copy it
onto," returned his sister. "Now you set down and go at it like a man;
or maybe I'd better say like a woman," she added sarcastically.
"If I'd only had an edication!" groaned Gotobed, taking up the pen; "but
it's mighty hard on a feller--such things as this is--when he hasn't."
"Well, do the best you kin, and mebbe it'll come out right for all.
You're good-lookin' and got a good trade and can make a good livin' for
her. Just tell her that; and tell her you think she's as purty as a
picter, and good-tempered, and knows a lot; and that you worship the
ground she walks on, and won't never let the wind blow rough on her,
won't never say no cross words to her, and--and a lot more o' such
stuff; that's what girls like."
"Well, I s'pose you'd ought to know, seeing you belong to the sect; but
it's a heap easier for you to say it than for me to git it writ down in
black and white," he sighed.
"I declare I'm clear beat out with you a'most," said Rhoda Jane,
snuffing the candle impatiently; "and I've a great mind to leave you to
make it up by yourself."