Part 9 (2/2)
”Nor to lounge about the parlor every evening either,” muttered Kilian, pus.h.i.+ng away his cup of coffee.
”Now, Mr. Kilian, pray don't let our admiration of the tutor drive you into any bitterness of feeling,” cried Charlotte Benson, who had been treasuring up a store of little slights from Kilian. ”You know he can't be blamed for it, poor man.”
Kilian was so much annoyed that he did not trust himself to answer, but rose from the table, and asked me if I would drive with him in half an hour.
During the drive, he exclaimed angrily that Charlotte Benson had a tongue that would drive a man to suicide if he came in hearing of it daily. ”Why, if she were as beautiful as a G.o.ddess, I could never love her. Depend upon it, she'll never get a husband, Miss Pauline.”
”Some men like to be scolded, I have heard,” I said.
”Well then, if you ever stumble upon one that does, just call me and I'll run and fetch him Charlotte Benson.”
The morning was lovely, and I had much pleasure in the drive, though I had not gone with any idea of enjoying it. It was very exhilarating to drive so fast as Kilian always drove; and Kilian himself always amused me and made me feel at ease. We were very companionable; and though I could not understand how young ladies could make a hero of him, and fancy that they loved him, I could quite understand how they should find him delightful and amusing.
We delivered our notes, at more than one place, into the hands of those to whom they were addressed, and had many pleasant talks at the piazza steps with young ladies whom I had not known before. Then we went to the village and engaged the music-teacher, stopped at the ”store” and left some orders, and drove to the Post-Office to see if there were letters.
”Haven't we had a nice morning!” I exclaimed simply, as we drove up to the gate.
”Capital,” said Kilian. ”I'm afraid it's been the best part of the day.
I wish I had any a.s.surance that the German would be half as pleasant. I beg your pardon, I don't mean your surly Teuton, but the dance that we propose to-night; I wish it had another name. Confound it! there he is ahead of us. (I don't mean the dance this time, you see.) I wish he'd turn back and open the gate for us. Holloa there!”
Kilian would not have dared call out, if the boys had not been with their tutor. It was one o'clock, and they were coming from the farm-house back to dinner. At the call they all turned; Mr. Langenau stood still, and told Charles to go back and open the gate.
Kilian frowned; he didn't like to see his nephew ordered to do anything by this unpleasant German. While we were waiting for the opening of the gate, the tutor walked on toward the house with Benny. As we pa.s.sed them, Benny called out, ”Stop, Uncle Kilian, stop, and take me in.”
Benny never was denied anything, so we stopped and Mr. Langenau lifted him up in front of us. He bowed without speaking, and Benny was the orator of the occasion.
”You looked as if you were having such a nice time, I thought I'd like to come.”
”Well, we were,” said Kilian, with a laugh, and then we drove on rapidly.
At the tea-table Mr. Langenau said to Sophie as he rose to go away: ”Mrs. Hollenbeck, if there is any service I can render you this evening at the piano, I shall be very glad if you will let me know.”
Mrs. Hollenbeck thanked him with cordiality, but told him of the provision that had been made.
”But you will dance, Mr. Langenau,” cried Mary Leighton, ”we need dancing-men terribly, you know. Promise me you'll dance.”
”Oh,” said Charlotte Benson, ”he has promised me.” Mr. Langenau bowed low; he got wonderfully through these awkward situations. As he left the room Kilian said in a tone loud enough for us, but not for him, to hear, ”The Lowders have a nice young gardener; hadn't we better send to see if he can't come this evening?”
”Kilian, that's going a little too far,” said Richard in a displeased manner; ”as long as the boys' tutor conducts himself like a gentleman, he deserves to be treated like a gentleman.”
”Ah, Paterfamilias, thank you. Yes, I'll think of it,” and Kilian proposed that we should leave the table, as we all seemed to have appeased our appet.i.tes and nothing but civil war could come of staying any longer.
It was understood we had not much time to dress: but when I came down-stairs, none of the others had appeared. Richard met me in the hall: he had been rather stern to me all day, but his manner quite softened as he stood beside me under the hall-lamp. That was the result of my lovely white mull, with its mint of Valenciennes.
”You haven't any flowers,” he said. Heavens! who'd have thought he'd ever have spoken in such a tone again, after the cup of tea I poured out for the tutor. ”Let's go and see if we can't find some in these vases that are fit, for I suppose the garden's robbed.”
<script>