CHAPTER XLIII
THE SIREN AND THE IRON
The summer, the Dranes, La Fleur, and Miriam had all left Cobhurst. Thesummer had gone south for an eight months' stay; the Dranes had gone totheir old Pennsylvania home to settle up their affairs, and prepare forthe marriage of the younger lady, which was to take place early in thecoming spring; La Fleur had returned to the Tolbridges' to remain untilthe new Cobhurst household should be organized; and Miriam, whoseassociation with Dora and Cicely had aroused her somewhat dormantaspirations in an educational direction, had gone to Mrs. Stone's schoolfor the winter term.
November had come to Cobhurst, and there Ralph remained to get his farmready for the winter, and his house in order for the bride who would comewith the first young leaves. He did not regret this period of solitarybachelorhood, for not having very much money, he required a good deal oftime to do what was to be done.
He had planned a good deal of refitting for the house, although not somuch as to deprive it of any of those characteristics which made it dearold Cobhurst. And there were endless things to do on the farm, the mostimportant of which, in his eyes, was the breaking of the pair of colts,which task he intended to take into his own hands. Mrs. Browning and thegig were very well in their places, but something more would be neededwhen the green leaves came.
Seraphina, Mike's sister, now ruled in the kitchen, but Ralph's thoughtshad acquired such a habit of leaving the subject on which he was engagedand flying southward, that even when he took a meal with the Tolbridges,which happened not infrequently, he scarcely noticed the differencebetween their table and his own. Nothing stronger than this could be saidregarding his present power of abstracting his mind from surroundingcircumstances.
His income was a limited one, although it had been a good deal helped bythe products of his farm, and he had to do a great deal of calculatingwith his pencil before he dared to order work which would oblige him todraw a check with his pen. But by thus giving two dollars' worth ofthought to every dollar of expenditure, he made his money go a long way,and the lively and personal interest he took in every little improvement,made a garden fence to him of as much importance and satisfaction as anew post-office would have been to the people of Thorbury.
One day he went into a hardware store of the town to buy some nails, andthere he met Miss Panney, who had just purchased a corkscrew.
"A thing you will not want for some time," she said, "for you do not lookas if you needed anything to cheer your soul. Now tell me, young man, isit really the engagement rapture that has lasted all this time?"
"Oh, yes," said Ralph, laughing, "and besides that I have had all sortsof good fortune. For instance, one of my hens, setting unbeknown toanybody in a warm corner of the barn, has hatched out a dozen littlechicks. Think of that at this season! I have put them in a warm room, andby the time we begin housekeeping we shall have spring chickens to eatbefore anybody else. And then there is that black colt, Dom Pedro. I hadgreat doubts about him, because he showed such decided symptoms of freewill, but now he is behaving beautifully. He has become thoroughlyreconciled to a haycart. I have driven him in a light wagon with hissister, and he is just as good as she is, and yesterday I drove himsingle, and find that he has made up his mind to learn everything I canteach him. Now isn't that a fine thing?"
"Oh, yes," said Miss Panney, "it must be such things as those that makeyour eyes sparkle! But of course it warms your heart to give her delicateeating when she first comes to you, and to have a fine pair of horses forher to drive behind. If your face beams as it does now while she isaway, it will serve as an electric light when she comes back. Goodfortune! Oh, yes, of course, you consider that you have it in fullmeasure. But we are sometimes apt to look on our friends' good fortune inan odd way. Now, if I had wanted you to go to Boston to get rich, andinstead of that you had insisted on going to Nantucket, and had becomerich there, I suppose that I should have been satisfied as long as youwere prosperous, but I do not believe I would have been; at least, notentirely so. In this world we do want people to do what we think theyought to do."
"Yes," said Ralph, knowingly, "I see. But now, Miss Panney, don't youreally think that Boston would have been too rich a place for me? That itwould have expected too much of me, and that perhaps it would have donetoo much for me? Boston is a good enough place, but if you only knew howmuch lovelier Nantucket is--"
"Stop, stop, boy!" said the old lady. "I am getting so old now, that I amobliged to stop happy people and disappointed people from talking to me.If I listened to all they had to say, I should have no time for anythingelse. By the way, have you heard any news from the Bannister family? Thatsedate Herbert is going to be married, and he intends to live with hiswife in the Bannister mansion."
"And how will his sister like that?" asked Ralph.
"She won't like it at all. She has told me she is going away."
"I am sorry for that," he said. "That is too bad."
"Not at all. She could not do better. A girl like that in a town such asThorbury, with nobody to marry her but the rector, is as much out ofplace as a canary bird in a poultry yard. I have advised her to visit herrelatives in town, and go with them to Europe, where I hope she willmarry a prince. Good conscience! Look at her! Imagine that girl in asweeping velvet robe with one great diamond blazing on her breast."
Ralph turned quickly, and as his eyes fell upon Dora, as she entered thestore, it struck him that no royal gowns could make her more beautifulthan she was at that moment.
"Now, my dear," said Miss Panney, "what did you come here for? Do youwant a saw or a pitchfork?"
"I came," said Dora, with her most charming smile, "because I saw you twoin here, and I wanted to speak to you. It is a funny place for this sortof thing, but I do not see either of you very often, now, and I thought Iwould like to tell you, before you heard it from any one else, of myengagement."
"To whom?" cried Miss Panney, in a voice that made the ox-chains rattle.
Dora looked around anxiously, but there was no one in the front part ofthe store.
"To Mr. Ames," she replied.
"The rector!" exclaimed Ralph.
"Yes," said Dora; "I want to write to Miriam about it, and do you know Ihave lost her address."
"Dora Bannister," interrupted Miss Panney, "it may be a little early tomake bridal presents, but I want to give you this corkscrew. It is avery good one, and I think that after a while you will have need of it.Good morning."
When the old lady had abruptly departed, the two young people laughed,and Ralph offered his congratulations.
"I do not know Mr. Ames very well," he said, "but I have heard no end ofgood of him. But this is very surprising. It seems--"
"Seems what?" asked Dora.
"Well, since you ask me," Ralph answered, hesitating a little, "it seemsodd, not, perhaps, that you should marry the rector, but that you shouldmarry anybody. You appear to me too young to marry."
"Oh, indeed!" said Dora; "you think that?"
"I do not know that you understand me," said Ralph, "but I mean that youare so full of youth--and all that, and enjoy life so much, that it isa pity that you should not have more of youthful enjoyment before youbegin any other kind."
Dora laughed.
"Truly," said she, "I never looked at the matter in that light. Perhaps Iought to have done so. You think me too young, and if you had had achance, perhaps you would have warned me! You are so kind and soconsiderate, but don't you think you ought to speak to Mr. Ames about it?He does not know you very well, but he has heard no end of good of you,and perhaps what you say might make him reflect."
As she spoke she looked at him with her eyes not quite so wide open asusual. Ralph returned her gaze steadfastly.
"I know what you are thinking of," he said. "You are thinking of a fablewith an animal in it and some fruit, and the animal was a small one, andthe fruit was on a high trellis."
"Oh, dear," said Dora. "It must be very nice to have read as much as youhave, and to kno
w fables and all sorts of things to refer to. But my lifehasn't been long enough for all that."
The more Ralph's mind dwelt upon the matter, the more dissatisfied did hefeel that this beautiful young creature should marry the rector. If, intruth, she applied the fable to him, this was all the more reason why heshould feel sorry for her. If anything of all this showed itself in hiseyes, he did not know it, but Dora's eyes opened to their full width, andgrew softer.
"I expect I surprise you," she said, "by talking to you of these things,but I have so few friends to confide in. Herbert is wrapped up in hisown engagement, and Mrs. Bannister is entirely apart from me. Almostever since I have known you two, I have felt that Miriam and you werefriends with whom I could talk freely, and I am now going to tell you,and I know you will never mention it, that I do not believe I shall evermarry Mr. Ames."
"What!" exclaimed Ralph. "Didn't you say you were engaged to him?"
"Of course I said so; and I am, and I was very glad to be able to say itto Miss Panney, for she is always bothering me about such things; butthe engagement is a peculiar one. Mr. Ames has been coming to see me fora long time, and I think it was because he heard that I was planning togo away that he decided to declare himself at once, before he lost hisopportunity. I told him that I had never thought of anything of the sort;but he was very insistent, and at last I consented, provided theengagement should be a long one, and that, if after I had seen more ofthe world and knew myself better, I should decide to change my mind, Imust be allowed to do so. He fought terribly against this, but there wasnothing for him to do but agree, and so now we are engaged onapprobation, as it were. This is a great relief to me in various ways,because I feel as if I were safely anchored, and not drifting aboutwhichever way the wind blows, while other people are sailing where theywant to; and yet, whenever I please, I can loosen my anchor, and spreadmy sails, and skim away over the beautiful sea."
It is seldom that a siren, leaning lightly against a bright newhay-cutter, with a background of iron rakes and hoes and spades, singsher soft song. But it was so now, and Dora, her heart beating quickly,looked from under her long lashes to note the effect of her words.
"If he will drop the little Drane," she said to herself, "I will dropthe rector."
But Ralph stood looking past her. It was as plain as could be that he wasnot approaching the rocks; that he did not like the song; and that he wasthinking what he should say about it.
"Oh, dear," said Dora, suddenly starting. "I have ever so much to dothis morning, and it must be nearly noon. I wonder what made that queerMiss Panney think of giving me this corkscrew."
Ralph knew very well that the old lady meant the little implement as afigurative auxiliary of consolation, but he merely remarked that MissPanney did and gave very queer things. He opened the door for her, andshe bade him good-by and went out.
She crossed the street, and when on the opposite sidewalk, she turned herluminous eyes back upon the glass doors she had passed through.
But there was no one looking out after her. Ralph was standing at thecounter, buying nails.
CHAPTER XLIV
LA FLEUR'S SOUL REVELS, AND MISS PANNEY PREPARES TO MAKE A FIRE
Cobhurst never looked more lovely than in the early June of the followingyear. With the beauty of the trees, the grass, the flowers, the vines,and all things natural, it possessed the added attractiveness of acertain personal equation. To all the happy dwellers therein, the dearold house appeared like one in which good people had always lived.Although they used to think that it was as charming as could be, they nowperceived that the old mansion and all its surroundings had shown strongevidences of that system of management which Mike called ramshackle. Noone said a word against any of the changes that Ralph had made, for inspite of them Cobhurst was still Cobhurst.
On a bench under a tree by the side of the house sat La Fleur, shellingsome early spring peas, a tin basin of which she held in her lap. Mrs.Drane, in a rustic chair near by, was sewing, and Miriam, who had comeladen with blossoms from the orchard, had stopped in the pleasant shade.Mike, absolutely picturesque in a broad new straw hat, was out in thesunshine raking some grass he had cut, and Seraphina, who remained in thehousehold as general assistant, could be seen through the open window ofthe kitchen.
"As I told you before, madam," said La Fleur, "I don't think you needfeel the least fear about the young horses. Their master has a steadyhand, and they know his voice, and as for Mrs. Haverley, she's no moreafraid of them than if they were two sheep. As they drove off thisafternoon, I had a feeling as if I were living with some of those greatfamilies in the old country in whose service I have been. For, said I tomyself, 'Here is the young master of the house, actually going to driveout with his handsome wife and his spirited horses, and that in the verymiddle of the working day, and without the prospect of making a penny ofprofit.' You don't see that often in this country, except, perhaps, amongthe very, very rich who don't have to work. But it is a good sign when agentleman like Mr. Haverley sets such an upper-toned example to hisfellow young men.
"I spoke of that to Dr. Tolbridge once. 'Begging your pardon, sir,' saidI, 'it seems to me that you never drive out except when you have to.''Which is true,' said he, 'because I have to do it so much.' 'You willexcuse me, sir, for saying so,' said I, 'but if you did things forpleasure sometimes, your mind would be rested, and you would feel morelike comprehending the deliciousness of some of my special dishes, whichI notice you now and again say nothing about, because you are so hungrywhen you eat them, you don't notice their savoriness.'"
"La Fleur," said Mrs. Drane, "I am surprised that you should have spokento the doctor in that way."
"Oh, I have a mind," said La Fleur, "and I must speak it. My mind is likea young horse--if I don't use it, it gets out of condition; and I don'tfear to speak to the doctor. He has brains, and he knows I have brains,and he understands me. He said something like that when I left him, and Iam sure I never could have had a night's rest since if I hadn't put agood woman there in my place. With what Mary Woodyard knows already, andwith me to pop in on her whenever I can coax Michael to drive me to town,the doctor should never have need for any of his own medicines, so far asdigestion goes."
"Don't you think," interpolated Miriam, "that there is a great deal moresaid and done about eating than the subject is worth?"
Mrs. Drane looked a little anxiously at La Fleur, but the cook did not inthe least resent the remark.
"You are young yet, Miss Miriam," she said; "but when you are older, youwill think more of the higher branches of education, the very topmost ofwhich is cookery. But it's not only young people, but a good many olderones, and some of them of high station, too, who think that cooking isnot a fit matter for the intellect to work on. When I lived with LadyHartleberry, she said over and over to my lord, and me too, that sheobjected to the art works I sent up to the table, because she said thatthe human soul ought to have something better to do than to give itselfup to the preparation of dishes that were no better to sustain the bodythan if they had been as plain as a pike-staff. But I didn't mind her;and everything that Tolati or La Fleur ever taught me, and everything Iinvented for myself, I did in that house. My lady was an awfully seriouswoman, and very particular about public worship: and on Sunday morningshe used to send the butler around to every servant with a little book,and in that he put down what church each one was going to, and at whattime of day they would go. But when he came to me, I always said, 'LaFleur goes to church when she likes and where she chooses.' And thebutler, being a man of brains, set down any church and time that happenedto suit his fancy, and my lady was never the wiser; and if I felt likegoing to church, I went, and if I didn't, I didn't. But when the familywent to their seat in Scotland, they did not take their butler with them,and the piper was sent round on Sunday morning to find out about theservants going to church. And when he came to me, I said the same thingI had always said, and do you know that pink-headed Scotchman put it downin the book and carried it to my lady
. And when she read it, she was in agreat rage, to be sure, and sent for me and wanted to know what I meantby such a message. Then I told her I meant no offence by it, and that Ididn't think the idiot would put it down, but that I was too old tochange my ways, and that if her ladyship wasn't willing that I shouldkeep on in them, she would have to dismiss me. And then I curtsied andleft her; and my lord, when he heard of it, got a new piper. 'For,' saidhe, 'a fool's a dangerous thing to have in the house,' and I stayed ontwo years. So you see, Miss Miriam, that we are getting to thepoint,--even my strait-laced lady made her opinions about church-goinggive way before high art in her cook. For, as much as she might sayagainst my creations and compositions, she had gotten so used to 'em,she couldn't do without 'em."
"Well," said Miriam, "I suppose when the time comes I do not likeeverything as I do now, I shall care more for some things. But I mustn'tsit here; I must go up to my sewing."
"Miriam!" exclaimed Mrs. Drane, "what on earth are you working at?Shutting yourself up, day after day, in your room, and at hours, too,when everything is so pleasant outside. Cannot you bring out here whatyou are doing?"
"No," said Miriam, "because it is a secret; but it is nearly finished,and as I shall have to tell you about it very soon, I may as well do itnow: I have been altering Judith Pacewalk's teaberry gown for Cicely. Itwas altered once for me, and that makes it all the harder to make it fither now. I am not very good at that sort of thing, and so it has taken mea long time. I expected to have it ready for her when she came back fromthe wedding trip, but I could not do it. I shall finish it to-day,however, and to-morrow I am going to invest her with it. She is now thehead of the house, and it is she who should wear the teaberry gown. Don'ttell her, please, until to-morrow; I thought it would be nice to have alittle ceremony about it, and in that case I shall have to have some oneto help me."
"It is very good of you, my dear," said Mrs. Drane, "to think of such athing, and Cicely and your brother will be delighted, I know, to find outwhat you think of this change of administration. Ralph said to me theother day that he was afraid you were not altogether happy in yieldingyour place to another. He had noticed that you had gotten into the habitof going off by yourself."
Miriam laughed.
"Just wait until he hears the beautiful speech I am going to maketo-morrow, and then he will see what a wise fellow he is."
"Mrs. Drane! Miss Miriam!" exclaimed La Fleur, her face beginning to glowwith emotion; "let me help to make this a grand occasion. Let me get up abeautiful lunch. There isn't much time, it is true, but I can do it. I'llmake Michael drive me to town early in the morning, and I'll haveeverything ready in time. A dinner would be all very well, but aluncheon gives so much better chance to the imagination and theintellect. There're some things you have to have at a dinner, but at alunch there is nothing you are obliged to have, and nothing you may nothave if you want it. And if you don't mind, I'd like you to ask old MissPanney. I've been a good deal at odds with her since I have known her,but I'm satisfied now, and if there is anything I can do to make hersatisfied, I'm more than ready. Besides, when I do get up anythingextraordinary in the way of a meal, I like to have people at the tablewho can appreciate it. And as for that, I haven't met anybody in thiscountry who is as well grounded in good eating as that old lady is."
Her proposition gladly agreed to, La Fleur rose to a high heaven ofexcited delight. She had had no chance to show her skill in a weddingbreakfast, for the young couple had been married very quietly inPennsylvania, and she was now elated with the idea of exhibiting herhighest abilities in an Investiture Luncheon.
She handed the basin of peas through the open window to Seraphina, andretired to her room, to study, to plan, and to revel in flights ofepicurean fancy.
"Mike," said Seraphina to her brother, who was now raking the grass nearthe kitchen window, "did you hear dat ar ole cook a talkin' jes' now?"
"No," said Mike, "I hain't got no time to harken to people talkin', 'ceptthey're talkin' to me, an' it 'pends on who they is whether I listensthen or not."
"That fool thinks she made this world," said Seraphina. "I've beenthinkin' she had some notion like dat. She do put on such a'rs."
"Git out," said Mike. "You never heard her say nothing like that."
"I didn't hear all she said," replied the colored woman, "but I heardmore'n 'nough, an' I heard her talkin' about her creation. Her creationindeed! I'll let her know one thing; she didn't make me."
"Now look a here, Seraphiny," said Mike; "the more you shet up now, nowyou's in the prime of life, the gooder you'll feel when you gits old. An'so long as Mrs. Flower makes them thar three-inch-deep pies for me, Idon't care who she thinks she made, an' who she thinks she didn't make.Thar now, that's my opinion."
* * * * *
The Investiture Luncheon, at which the Tolbridges and Miss Panney werepresent, was truly a grand and beautiful affair, to which Dora wouldcertainly have been invited had she not been absent on her bridal tripwith Mr. Ames. Seldom had La Fleur or either of her husbands prepared forprince, ambassador, or titled gourmand a meal which better satisfied theloftiest outreaches of the soul in the truest interests of the palate.
Cicely appeared in the teaberry gown, and if the spirit of JudithPacewalk hovered o'er the scene, and allowed its gaze to wander from thecharming bride, over the happy faces of the rest of the company, to thehalf-open door of the dining-room, where shone the radiant face of theproudest cook in the world, it must have been as well satisfied with thefate of the pink garment as it could possibly expect to be.
It was late in the afternoon when the luncheon party broke up, andalthough Miss Panney was the last guest to leave, she did not go home,but drove herself to Thorbury, and tied her roan mare in front of theoffice of Mr. Herbert Bannister. When the young lawyer looked up andperceived his visitor, he heaved a sigh, for he had expected in a fewmoments to lock up his desk, and stop, on his way home, at the house ofhis lady love. But the presence of Miss Panney at his office meantbusiness, and business with her meant a protracted session. Miss Panneydid not notice the sigh, and if she had, it would not have affectedher. Her soul had been satisfied this day, and no trifle could disturbher serenity.
"Now what I want," said she, after a good deal of prefatory remark, "isfor you to give me my will. I want to alter it."
"But, madam," said young Bannister, when he had heard the alterationsdesired by Miss Panney, "is not this a little quixotic? Excuse me forsaying so. Mr. Haverley is not even related to you, and you are bestowingupon him--"
"Herbert Bannister," said the old lady, "if you were your father insteadof yourself, you would know that this young man ought to have been mygrandson. He isn't; but I choose to consider him as such, and as such Ishall leave him what will make him a worthy lord of Cobhurst. Bring methe new will as soon as it is ready and bring also the old one, with allthe papers I have given you, from time to time, regarding the dispositionof my property. I shall burn them, every one, and although it may set theWittons' chimney on fire the conflagration will make me happy."
THE END
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