Part 3 (1/2)
”I declare!” she called, delightedly. ”I was 'most afraid you'd forgot to come! Well, Claribel, if you 'ain't grown! They'll have to put a brick on your head, or you'll be taller'n grandma.”
Claribel submitted to be kissed, and they entered the large, cool sitting-room, where they took off their things.
”You make yourself at home, Jane,” said Lucindy, fluttering about, in pleasant excitement. ”I ain't goin' to pay you a mite of attention till I see Claribel fixed. Now, Claribel, remember! you can go anywheres you're a mind to. And you can touch anything there is. You won't find a thing a little girl can hurt. Here, you come here where I be, and look across the entry. See that big lamp on the table? Well, if you unhook them danglin' things and peek through 'em, you'll find the brightest colors! My, how pretty they be! I've been lookin' through 'em this mornin'. I used to creep in and do it when I was little,” she continued, in an aside to Mrs. Wilson. ”Once I lost one.” A strange look settled on her face; she was recalling a bitter experience.
”There!” she said, releasing Claribel with a little hug, ”now run along! If you look on the lower shelf of the what-not, you'll see some sh.e.l.ls and coral I put there for just such a little girl.”
Claribel walked soberly away to her playing.
”Don't you hurt nothin'!” called Mrs. Wilson; and Claribel responded properly,--
”No, 'm.”
”There!” said Lucindy, watching the precise little back across the hall, ”Now le's talk a mite about vanity. You reach me that green box behind your chair. Here's the best flowers Miss West had for what I wanted. Here's my bunnit, too. You see what you think.”
She set the untrimmed bonnet on her curls, and laid first a bunch of bright chrysanthemums against it, and then some strange lavender roses.
The roses turned her complexion to an ivory whiteness, and her anxious, intent expression combined strangely with that undesirable effect.
”My soul, Lucindy!” cried Mrs. Wilson, startled into a more robust frankness than usual, ”you do look like the Old Nick!”
A shade came over Miss Lucindy's honest face. It seemed, for a moment, as if she were going to cry.
”Don't you like 'em, Jane?” she asked, appealingly. ”Won't neither of 'em do?”
Mrs. Wilson was not incapable of compunction, but she felt also the demands of the family honor.
”Well, Lucindy,” she began, soothingly, ”now 'tain't any use, is it, for us to say we ain't gettin' on in years? We be! You 're my age, an'--Why, look at Claribel in there! What should you say, if you see me settin' out to meetin' with red flowers on my bunnit? I should be nothin' but a laughin'-stock!”
Lucindy laid the flowers back in their box, with as much tenderness as if they held the living fragrance of a dream.
”Well!” she said, wistfully. Then she tried to smile.
”Here!” interposed Mrs. Wilson, not over-pleased with the part she felt called upon to play, ”you give me your bunnit. Don't I see your old sheaf o'wheat in the box? Let me pin it on for you. There, now, don't that look more suitable?”
By the time she had laid it on, in conventional flatness, and held it up for inspection, every trace of rebellion had apparently been banished from Lucindy's mind.
”Here,” said the victim of social rigor, ”you hand me the box, and I'll set it away.”
They had a cosey, old-fas.h.i.+oned chat, touching upon nothing in the least revolutionary, and Mrs. Wilson was glad to think Lucindy had forgotten all about the side-saddle. This last incident of the bonnet, she reflected, showed how much real influence she had over Lucindy. She must take care to exert it kindly but seriously now that the old Judge was gone.
”You goin' to keep your same help?” she asked, continuing the conversation.
”Oh, yes! I wouldn't part with Ann Toby for a good deal. She's goin' to have her younger sister come to live with us now. We shall be a pa.s.sel o' women, sha'n't we?”
”I guess it's well for you Ann Toby's what she is, or she'd cheat you out o' your eye-teeth!”
”Well,” answered Lucindy, easily, ”I ain't goin' to worry about my eye-teeth. If I be cheated out of 'em, I guess I can get a new set.”
At five o'clock, they had some cookies, ostensibly for Claribel, since Mrs. Wilson could not stay to tea; and then, when the little maid had taken hers out to the front steps, Lucindy broached a daring plan, that moment conceived.
”Say, Jane,” she whispered, with great pretence of secrecy, ”what do you think just come into my head? Do you s'pose Mattie would be put out, if I should give Claribel a hat?”
”Mercy sakes, no! all in the family so! But what set you out on that?