Part 37 (1/2)

This proved to be a very easy matter; for within a few days Nellie came to return my visit, and as mother had other company she the more readily gave us permission to go where we pleased. Nellie had a perfect pa.s.sion for ghost and witch stories, saying though that ”she never liked to have them explained--she'd rather they'd be left in solemn mystery;” so when I told her of the ”old mine” and the ”haunted house” she immediately expressed a desire to see them. Hiding our bonnets under our ap.r.o.ns the better to conceal our intentions from sister Lizzie, who, we fancied, had serious thoughts of _tagging_, we sent her upstairs in quest of something which we knew was not there, and then away we scampered down the green lane and across the pasture, dropping once into some alders as Lizzie's yellow hair became visible on the fence at the foot of the lane. Our consciences smote us a little, but we kept still until she returned to the house; then, continuing our way, we soon came in sight of the mine, which Nellie determined to explore.

It was in vain that I tried to dissuade her from the attempt. She was resolved, and stationing myself at a safe distance I waited while she scrambled over stones, sticks, logs, and bushes, until she finally disappeared in the cave. Ere long, however, she returned with soiled pantelets, torn ap.r.o.n, and scratched face, saying that ”the mine was nothing in the world but a hole in the ground, and a mighty little one at that.” After this I didn't know but I would sometime venture in, but for fear of what might happen I concluded to choose a time when I hadn't run away from Liz!

When I presented Nellie to Mrs. Hudson she took both her hands in hers, and, greatly to my surprise, kissed her on both cheeks. Then she walked hastily into the next room, but not until I saw something fall from her eyes, which I am sure were tears.

”Funny, isn't it?” said Nellie, looking wonderingly at me. ”I don't know whether to laugh or what.”

Mabel now came in, and though she manifested no particular emotion, she was exceedingly kind to Nellie, asking her many questions, and sometimes smoothing her brown curls. When Mrs. Hudson again appeared she was very calm, but I noticed that her eyes constantly rested upon Nellie, who, with Mabel's grey kitten in her lap, was seated upon the doorstep, the very image of childish innocence and beauty. Mrs. Hudson urged us to stay to tea, but I declined, knowing that there was company at home, with three kinds of cake, besides cookies, for supper. So bidding her good-bye, and promising to come again, we started homeward, where we found the ladies discussing their green tea and making large inroads upon the three kinds of cake.

One of them, a Mrs. Thompson, was gifted with the art of fortune-telling, by means of tea-grounds, and when Nellie and I took our seats at the table she kindly offered to see what was in store for us.

She had frequently told my fortune, each time managing to fish up a freckle-faced boy so nearly resembling her grandson, my particular aversion, that I didn't care to hear it again. But with Nellie 'twas all new, and after a great whirling of tea-grounds and staining of mother's best table-cloth, she pa.s.sed her cup to Mrs. Thompson, confidently whispering to me that she guessed she'd tell her something about Willie Raymond, who lived in the city, and who gave her the little cornelian ring which she wore. With the utmost gravity Mrs. Thompson read off the past and present, and then peering far into the future she suddenly exclaimed, ”Oh, my! there's a gulf, or something, before you, and you are going to tumble into it headlong; don't ask me anything more.”

I never did and never shall believe in fortune-telling, much less in Granny Thompson's ”turned-up cups,” but years after I thought of her prediction with regard to Nellie. Poor, poor Nellie!

CHAPTER IV.

JEALOUSY.

On the first Monday in June our school commenced, and long before breakfast Lizzie and I were dressed and had turned inside out the little cupboard over the fireplace where our books were kept during vacation.

Breakfast being over we deposited in our dinner-basket the whole of a custard pie, and were about starting off when mother said, ”we shouldn't go a step until half-past eight,” adding further, that ”we must put that pie back, for 'twas one she'd saved for their own dinner.”

Lizzie pouted, while I cried, and taking my bonnet I repaired to the ”great rock,” where the sa.s.safras, blackberries, and blacksnakes grew.

Here I sat for a long time, thinking if I ever did grow up and get married (I was sure of the latter), I'd have all the custard pie I could eat for once! In the midst of my reverie a footstep sounded near, and looking up I saw before me Nellie Gilbert, with her satchel of books on her arm, and her sunbonnet hanging down her back, after the fas.h.i.+on in which I usually wore mine. In reply to my look of inquiry she said her father had concluded to let her go to the district school, though he didn't expect her to learn anything but ”slang terms and ill manners.”

By this time it was half-past eight, and together with Lizzie we repaired to the schoolhouse, where we found a.s.sembled a dozen girls and as many boys, among whom was Tom Jenkins. Tom was a great admirer of beauty, and hence I could never account for the preference he had hitherto shown for me, who my brothers called ”bung-eyed” and Sally ”raw-boned.” He, however, didn't think so. My eyes, he said, were none too large, and many a night had he carried home my books for me, and many a morning had he brought me nuts and raisins, to say nothing of the time when I found in my desk a little note, which said--But everybody who's been to school, knows what it said!

Taking it all round we were as good as engaged; so you can judge what my feelings were when, before the night of Nellie's first day at school, I saw Tom Jenkins giving her an orange which I had every reason to think was originally intended for me! I knew very well that Nellie's brown curls and eyes had done the mischief; and though I did not love her the less, I blamed him the more for his fickleness, for only a week before he had praised my eyes, calling them a ”beautiful indigo blue,” and all that. I was highly incensed, and when on our way from school he tried to speak good-humoredly, I said, ”I'd thank you to let me alone! I don't like you, and never did!”

He looked sorry for a minute, but soon forgot it all in talking to Nellie, who after he had left us said ”he was a cleverish kind of boy, though he couldn't begin with William Raymond.” After that I was very cool toward Tom, who attached himself more and more to Nellie, saying ”she had the handsomest eyes he ever saw”; and, indeed, I think it chiefly owing to those soft, brown, dreamy eyes that I am not now ”Mrs.

Tom Jenkins of Jenkinsville,” a place way out West, whither Tom and his mother have migrated.

One day Nellie was later at school than usual, giving as a reason that their folks had company--a Mr. Sherwood and his mother, from Hartford; and adding that if I'd never tell anybody as long as I lived and breathed she'd tell me something.

Of course I promised, and Nellie told me how she guessed that Mr.

Sherwood, who was rich and handsome, liked Adaline. ”Anyway, Adaline likes him,” said she, ”and oh, she's so nice and good when he's around.

I ain't 'Nell, you hateful thing' then, but I'm 'Sister Nellie.' They are going to ride this morning, and perhaps they'll go by here. There they are, now!” and looking toward the road I saw Mr. Sherwood and Adaline Gilbert on horseback, riding leisurely past the schoolhouse. She was nodding to Nellie, but he was looking intently at Mabel, who was sitting near the window. I know he asked Adaline something about her, for I distinctly heard a part of her reply--”a poor factory girl,” and Adaline's head tossed scornfully, as if that were a sufficient reason why Mabel should be despised.

Mr. Sherwood evidently did not think so, for the next day he walked by alone--and the next day he did the same, this time bringing with him a book, and seating himself in the shadow of a chestnut tree not far from the schoolhouse. The moment school was out, he arose and came forward, inquiring for Nellie, who, of course, introduced him to Mabel. The three then walked on together, while Tom Jenkins stayed in the rear with me, wondering what I wanted to act so for; ”couldn't a feller like more than one girl if he wanted to?”

”Yes, I s'posed a feller could, though I didn't know, nor care!”

Tom made no reply, but whittled away upon a bit of s.h.i.+ngle, which finally a.s.sumed the shape of a heart, and which I afterward found in his desk with the letter ”N” written upon it, and then scratched out. When at last we reached our house Mr. Sherwood asked Nellie ”where that old mine and sawmill were, of which she had told him so much.”

”Right on Miss Hudson's way home,” said Nellie. ”Let's walk along with her;” and the next moment Mr. Sherwood, Mabel, and Nellie were in the long, green lane which led down to the sawmill.

Oh, how Adaline stormed when she heard of it, and how sneeringly she spoke to Mr. Sherwood of the ”factory girl,” insinuating that the bloom on her cheek was paint, and the lily on her brow powder! But he probably did not believe it, for almost every day he pa.s.sed the schoolhouse, generally managing to speak with Mabel; and once he went all the way home with her, staying ever so long, too, for I watched until 'twas pitch dark, and he hadn't got back yet!