Part 10 (2/2)
CHAPTER VII.
THORNS AND ROSES.
”GEOFF,” said Clover as they sat at dinner two days later, ”couldn't we start early when we go in to-morrow to meet Rose, and have the morning at St. Helen's? There are quite a lot of little errands to be done, and it's a long time since we saw Poppy or the Hopes.”
”Just as early as you like,” replied her husband. ”It's a free day, and I am quite at your service.”
So they breakfasted at a quarter before six, and by a quarter past were on their way to St. Helen's, pa.s.sing, as Clover remarked, through three zones of temperature; for it was crisply cold when they set out, temperately cool at the lower end of the Ute Pa.s.s, and blazing hot on the sandy plain.
”We certainly do get a lot of climate for our money out here,” observed Geoff.
They reached the town a little before ten, and went first of all to see Mrs. Marsh, for whom Clover had brought a basket of fresh eggs. She never entered that house without being sharply carried back to former days, and made to feel that the intervening time was dreamy and unreal, so absolutely unchanged was it. There was the rickety piazza on which she and Phil had so often sat, the bare, unhomelike parlor, the rocking-chairs swinging all at once, timed as it were to an accompaniment of coughs; but the occupants were not the same. Many sets of invalids had succeeded each other at Mrs. Marsh's since those old days; still the general effect was precisely similar.
Mrs. Marsh, who only was unchanged, gave them a warm welcome. Grateful little Clover never had forgotten the many kindnesses shown to her and Phil, and requited them in every way that was in her power. More than once when Mrs. Marsh was poorly or overtired, she had carried her off to the High Valley for a rest; and she never failed to pay her a visit whenever she spent a day at St. Helen's.
Their next call was at the Hopes'. They found Mrs. Hope darning stockings on the back piazza which commanded a view of the mountain range. She always claimed the entire credit of Clover's match, declaring that if she had not matronized her out to the Valley and introduced her and Geoff to each other, they would never have met. Her droll airs of proprietors.h.i.+p over their happiness were infinitely amusing to Clover.
”I _think_ we should have got at each other somehow, even if you had not been in existence,” she told her friend; ”marriages are made in Heaven, as we all know. n.o.body could have prevented ours.”
”My dear, that is just where you are mistaken. Nothing is easier than to prevent marriages. A mere straw will do it. Look at the countless old maids all over the world; and probably nearly every one of them came within half an inch of perfect happiness, and just missed it. No, depend upon it, there is nothing like a wise, judicious, discriminating friend at such junctures, to help matters along. You may thank me that Geoff isn't at this moment wedded to some stiff-necked British maiden, and you eating your head off in single-blessedness at Burnet.”
”Rubbis.h.!.+” said Clover. ”Neither of us is capable of it;” but Mrs. Hope stuck to her convictions.
She was delighted to see them, as she always was, and no less the bottle of beautiful cream, the basket full of fresh lettuces, and the bunch of Mariposa lilies which they had brought. Clover never went into St.
Helen's empty-handed.
Here they took luncheon No. 1,--consisting of sponge-cake and claret-cup, partaken of while gazing across at Cheyenne Mountain, which was at one of its most beautiful moments, all aerial blue streaked with sharp suns.h.i.+ne at the summit. It was the one defect of the High Valley, Clover thought, that it gave no glimpse of Cheyenne.
Luncheon No. 2 came a little later, with Marian Chase, whom every one still called ”Poppy” from preference and long habit. She was perfectly well now, but she and her family had grown so fond of St. Helen's that there was no longer any talk of their going back to the East. She had just had some beautiful California plums sent her by an admirer, and insisted on Clover's eating them with an accompaniment of biscuits and ”natural soda water.”
”I want you and Alice Perham to come out next week for two nights,” said Clover, while engaged in this agreeable occupation. ”My friend Mrs.
Browne arrives to-day, and she is by far the greatest treat we have ever had to offer to any one since we lived in the Valley. You will delight in her, I know. Could you come on Monday in the stage to the Ute Hotel, if we sent the carryall over to meet you?”
”Why, of course. I never have any engagements when a chance comes for going to the dear Valley; and Alice has none, I am pretty sure. It will be perfectly delightful! Clover, you are an angel,--'the Angel of the Penstamen' I mean to call you,” glancing at the great sheaf of purple and white flowers which Clover had brought. ”It's a very good name. As for Elsie, she is 'Our Lady of Raspberries;' I never saw such beauties as she fetched in week before last.”
Some very multifarious shopping for the two households followed, and by that time it was two o'clock and they were quite ready for luncheon No.
3,--soup and sandwiches, procured at a restaurant. They were just coming away when an open carriage pa.s.sed them, silk-lined, with a crest on the panel, jingling curb-chains, and silver-plated harnesses, all after the latest modern fas.h.i.+on, and drawn by a pair of fine gray horses. Inside was a young man, who returned a stiff bow to Clover's salutation, and a gorgeously gowned young lady with rather a handsome face.
”Mr. and Mrs. Thurber Wade, I declare,” observed Geoffrey. ”I heard that they were expected.”
”Yes, Mrs. Wade is so pleased to have them come for the summer. We must go and call some day, Geoff, when I happen to have on my best bonnet. Do you think we ought to ask them out to the Valley?”
”That's just as you please. I don't mind if he doesn't. What fine horses. Aren't you conscious of a little qualm of regret, Clover?”
”What for? I don't know what you mean. Don't be absurd,” was all the reply he received, or in fact deserved.
<script>