PINE FARM REVISITED.
The Count and his family were just on the eve of leaving for Eichbourg,
and next morning at break of day all was bustle in the castle,
preparing for their departure. In the midst of all the preparations,
however, Mary was not forgotten, and each one vied with the other in
the attentions they paid to her.
Mary's clothes, which she had bought during her residence at Pine Farm,
were made of the coarsest material and of the plainest cut. But one of
Amelia's friends, a young lady of the same age and size as Mary, at
Amelia's request presented Mary with a complete outfit, which, without
being extravagant, was more in keeping with her new situation. In
answer to Mary's modest protest against donning what seemed to her,
extravagantly grand garments, Amelia said, "You are my friend; you are
henceforth to be my companion; you are also to live with me. You ought
therefore to dress yourself differently from a farm servant."
After breakfast they started on their journey homeward, and Mary sat
beside Amelia in the carriage, with the Count and Countess opposite.
First of all, however, the Count gave orders for the coachman to drive
them to Pine Farm, that he might become acquainted with the people who
had entertained Mary and her father so kindly. It was not long before
they gathered from Mary's answers that the old people at Pine Farm were
far from being comfortable, and that their declining years were not so
peaceful as they had a right to expect.
The arrival of a nobleman's carriage at Pine Farm caused no little
excitement. No sooner had the young farmer's wife seen the carriage
stop at the door than she hastened towards it.
"Sir," said she to the Count, "allow me to assist you and also the
ladies, your daughters, I presume."
So saying, she presented her hand to one of the young ladies, when,
recognising her to be Mary herself, she uttered an exclamation of
surprise, let go her hand as if she had touched a serpent, and drew
back in great confusion.
The old farmer was working in his garden when the Count with his family
and Mary alighted; and when they went to the good old man, took him by
the hand, and thanked him for his kindness towards Mary and her father,
the worthy farmer was deeply moved.
"Oh," said he, "I owe that good man more than ever he owed me. The
blessing of heaven came with him into our home, and if I had followed
his advice in everything, I should have been much better for it at this
moment. Since his death I have no pleasure in anything but this garden,
which I began to cultivate at his suggestion. Since I have not had
strength to follow the plough, I have occupied myself here, and I seek
among the herbs and flowers the peace which I can no longer find in my
own house."
In the meantime Mary had gone to look for the old farmer's wife in her
little room, and she now came forward leading her by the hand. The
worthy woman was quite overcome by the strange circumstances in which
she found Mary, and the excitement of the moment; and when she came
forward to meet the Count and Countess, it was with a timid air, and in
evident distress at finding herself the object of so much attention. By
and by, however, she and her husband heard the story of the finding of
the ring, and so great was their affection for Mary that they cried for
joy like children.
"Did I not tell you," said the farmer, addressing Mary, "that your
filial piety would receive its reward? You see, my prophecy is already
fulfilled," and his wife, who had recovered her self-possession, said,
"Yes, yes; your father was right when he said, 'He who clothes the
flowers, well knows how to take care of you.'"
While this conversation had been going on, the young farmer's wife
stood at some distance, consumed with jealousy and anger.
"Well, well," she said to herself, "there is no saying what will happen
in this life. That miserable beggar whom I turned out of my house--look
at her now, dressed like a young lady of high rank. Who would have
thought of such a thing! Every one, however, knows who she is, so she
cannot impose on any one in this town. They know that yesterday she was
sent from here with a little package under her arm, to go into the
country."
The Count had not heard this abusive language, but a glance at the
woman's face was enough to show him that she was nursing angry
passions. "She is a wicked creature," he said to himself, as he walked
round the garden in a very thoughtful mood.
At last he stopped before the old farmer. "Listen, my good old friend,"
said he, "while I make a proposition to you. I have given Mary a piece
of ground on my estate, which was rented and cultivated by her father.
But Mary is not ready to take up housekeeping. What should prevent you
from retiring there? It will suit you, I am certain, and the owner will
not exact any rent from you. You can cultivate the herbs and flowers in
which you find your pleasure, and you will find, in the pretty cottage
which is attached to the ground, rest and peace in your old age."
The Count's wife, Amelia and Mary joined in urging the old man to
accept this generous offer. But there was no need for persuasion. The
old people were happy to be taken from their uncomfortable
surroundings, and gladly agreed to the proposal.
At this moment the young farmer came home from the fields. His surprise
was as great as his wife's when he saw the carriage at his door drawn
by four white horses; for never in the history of the farm had a
carriage stopped there before. When he heard of the proposal which the
Count had made to his father and mother, he gladly consented to it,
although he was deeply grieved to part from his old parents. His
consolation was found, however, in thinking that they were going to be
happier than they could possibly be with his wife.
As for his wife herself, the only remark she made was to say in a
spiteful way to the Count--
"It is a great favour you are doing us in ridding us of two old people
who are nothing but a burden!"
Promising to send for the old farmer and his wife as soon as everything
was ready, the Count and his family, accompanied by Mary, now stepped
into the carriage and drove off. Here for a time we will leave Mary and
follow the fortunes of the occupants of Pine Farm.