PAINFUL RECOLLECTIONS--THE LAST BOAT OF THE SEASON--RUFFLED
PLUMES--RECONCILIATION.
When Little Wolf awoke the next morning, her mind instantly reverted
to the painful subject, that had banished sleep from her eyes the
greater part of the night, and, as the shameful scene came up again
vividly before her, she buried her face in her pillow and groaned
aloud. While thus indulging afresh her grief and mortification, she
was aroused by a sound which turned her thoughts in another
direction. She started up eagerly and threw open the window which
commanded an extended view of the river, and, in the distance, she
could just discern through the fast falling snow, a brave little
steamer, as if by magic ploughing its way up through snow and ice.
Little Wolf hung out of the window half in fear lest the welcome
vision should vanish; but it kept steadily onward, drawing nearer and
nearer to its destination, and soon she had the satisfaction of seeing
it safely moored, and, by the active discharge of freight, it was
evident that it would attempt a downward trip.
The thought of home banished every other from her mind, and she
hastily drew inside and shook the white flakes from her glossy hair,
and began to arrange them in curls. But the unruly locks had blown
about so long in the wind, and got so cold and tangled and required so
much coaxing and brushing, that Little Wolf began to despair of ever
getting them in order.
Just then she observed on the dresser a bottle of what she supposed to
be pomatum, but in reality, a mixture for the lungs, made of honey and
other ingredients, which by exposure to the cold had partially
congealed. She caught it up and literally saturated her hair in the
contents and then with great spirit proceeded to her task.
At the first onset the brush stuck fast; "Dear me what ails it?" she
ejaculated throwing down the brush and making desperate dives with a
coarse tooth comb.
By this time her pretty tangled ringlets had stiffened into a striking
resemblance to cork screws interspersed with porcupine quills. By a
succession of impatient jerks she endeavored to bring the wayward mass
to submission; but the more she attempted to separate and arrange, the
closer the loving locks embraced each other, and she was beginning to
despair of conquering the difficulty, when she heard a light knock and
Mrs. Tinknor's kind voice said "May I come in?"
"O dear, yes," said Little Wolf, springing to the door, "do come in,
my dear Mrs. Tinknor, and tell me what this horrid pomade is made of."
"Why, dear child, what have you been doing to yourself? your hair
looks as if ten thousand furies had been tearing it."
"O Mrs. Tinknor, it is this horrid pomade."
Mrs. Tinknor's eye fell upon the offending preparation. "Why, bless
your heart my child," she exclaimed in dismay, "you have been using
Aunt Betsy's cough medicine."
Little Wolf threw herself on the bed convulsed with laughter, and Mrs.
Tinknor heartily joined in the merry peals.
"I came to tell you," said Mrs. Tinknor, when somewhat composed, "that
a steamer has just arrived, and Mr. Tinknor and Tom have gone out to
ascertain when she will return, if at all.
"O, I know she's going back right away," said Little Wolf springing
up. "I saw them hurrying off the freight; O dear, what shall I do with
my hair?" She was beginning to feel too anxious to laugh now.
"Come to my room, dear, it is warmer there and I can soon wash it out
for you. Now put this shawl around you; never mind dressing, we have
the house all to ourselves you know."
"Suppose I were to get caught in this ridiculous plight," said Little
Wolf, pushing her feet into her slippers, "I wouldn't have Tom see me
for the world."
"Then run along quickly and make sure," said Mrs. Tinknor, laughingly,
"I think we needn't feel concerned about the gentlemen coming back for
half an hour," she added, as Little Wolf ran on before.
Now the gentlemen had already returned, bringing Edward with them. The
latter, having forstalled them at the boat, met them as he was
hurrying to Little Wolf with the necessary information. On coming in
they unluckily took possession of the very room through which the
ladies would pass in order to reach Mrs. Tinknor's apartment.
Reassured by her hostess, Little Wolf pushed confidently forward,
making bold and decisive charges at the obstructing doors, and in
this manner, made her way directly into the presence of the two young
gentlemen, Mr. Tinknor having gone in search of his wife.
Here she was brought to a sudden stand, but it was only for an
instant, for Little Wolf, like a true womanly general, was skilled in
retreat when caught in rumpled uniform. She turned and darted through
the door which stood accommodatingly open, and although Edward's
suppressed smile, and Tom's uproarious laugh, goaded her on, she
stopped long enough to lock them in, thus cutting off pursuit which
Tom evidently meditated; he having, in consideration of their long and
intimate acquaintance, felt himself warranted in chasing after her,
and was at her heels, when he suddenly found himself a prisoner.
"O Wolf, Wolf, he shouted, pounding upon the door, "the boat, the
boat, she'll leave"--
"When will she leave?" said Little Wolf, stopping short.
"Let me out and I'll tell you, come, be quick, there's no time to be
lost. If you want to go here's Mr. Sherman to take charge of you."
"I can take care of myself," muttered Little Wolf, but, while she
paused she had additional cause for mortification; for Squire Tinknor
had found his way to his wife, and her only refuge was behind Mrs.
Tinknor's flowing skirts. Here she partially screened herself, while
he informed them that the boat would attempt a downward trip in the
course of an hour. "Ha, ha, ha," concluded the Squire, "if sis is bent
on going, she must make haste out of that plight."
By the united efforts of her friends, Little Wolf took passage for
Chimney Rock, and Edward, looking very handsome and self-possessed,
acted as her escort.
Without explanation, without apology, without so much as a look of
contrition from her travelling companion, at the first interview
Little Wolf forgave all the pain and mortification he had made her
feel. She had forgiven him without knowing it. She thought herself
still angry because her heart ached.
Edward was surprised. He had expected to meet indignant looks, and
perhaps reproachful words; he had feared even worse, for he well knew
the decision that marked Little Wolf's forming character, and he had
armed himself to meet the treatment which he felt he justly merited.
But his chosen weapon of defense was pride and so was useless when
opposed to Little Wolf's unusual gentleness. He was subdued, and when
man's proud spirit is once subdued by the forbearance of the woman he
loves, that woman henceforth becomes to him an object of adoration.
Edward had the day before called Little Wolf, darling, now he called
her angel, and before he parted from her he had said "my angel," and
she had smiled upon him when he said it.