Part 10 (1/2)

”O, you needn't look so wonderingly at me,” she continued, laughing. ”I only thought I would tell you to put on your new white dress, as it is such a lovely morning, and then I want you to appear your best, for I know _he_ will appreciate it,” and she was gone.

”Well does she know how to be a comforter,” thought Phebe.

How well she remembered at that moment the last walk she had with Willie down by the little pond, and his mournful wail of desolation as they talked of his lonely future without her!

The bell sounded along the hall telling all who desired an early breakfast that it was now ready, so hastening with her toilet, she opened the door leading to Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d's room, and to her surprise found her also ready to go with her.

”I have had a new thought,” she said gaily, ”and have ordered the carriage. We will go together and take him out for a little airing.

Rover, I have no doubt, will be much obliged to be excused for one day.

Two miles and a half is a pretty long road for such a brute to draw so heavy a load.”

Phebe made no answer, for she was a little disappointed. She had antic.i.p.ated the walk back and the uninterrupted talk more than she had herself been aware of.

”Do you not like my arrangement?” queried the lady, artlessly.

Phebe expressed much pleasure at the prospect, and, come to think of it, ”the new plan was preferable, as it would take away all embarra.s.sment in the meeting with f.a.n.n.y.”

The carriage was at the door when the two were ready, and in a few minutes they halted before the parsonage to report the change. Then away they rolled on their delicate errand of pleasure and comfort.

Never had Phebe looked so fresh and pretty as now. Her plain hat of white straw sat jauntily on her heavy braids of jetty hair, from beneath which her dark eyes shone with a new brilliancy, her dress, about which Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d had been so particular, set off her well rounded form to the best advantage, and as she sat by the richly attired lady no one would have imagined that the two were mistress and menial. Some such thoughts must have pa.s.sed through the mind of the young girl, for her cheeks glowed, and an air of worth if not superiority, sat with easy dignity upon her every movement.

”There he is,” she exclaimed, as they came in sight of the white cottage among the maples. ”He is waiting for us.”

”Hurry Frank,” said the lady, ”he does not yet recognize you Phebe.”

”Willie, dear brother Willie!” she called out as the carriage drew up before the gate, and in a moment she had darted down by his side, and throwing her arms around his neck said cheerily: ”Come, Willie, Mrs.

g.a.y.l.o.r.d wants to take you out for a ride! It is lovely, and Rover can have a rest!” His face crimsoned as he realized that strangers were witnessing their joyful meeting. Unperceived Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d had approached, and holding out her hand said pleasantly: ”Phebe was so selfish that she was going to have you all to herself but I concluded to defeat her plans. Will you be so kind as to go with us and spend the day at our rooms? We will try to make it very pleasant for you.” All this was said with so much tenderness that it would have been impossible for the poor boy to refuse.

”Let me get your hat, for I see that you are all ready as usual,” and Phebe forgetting her dread of the ”frigid f.a.n.n.y” rushed into the house, meeting that important personage on the very threshold.

”Good morning” was her cheerful salutation; ”we are going to take Willie away from you for a few hours, and I have come for his hat.”

”He has not been to breakfast yet,” was the chilling reply. ”I think you had better wait and give him time to eat.”

”Perhaps it would be better,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Phebe as she pa.s.sed her, hat in hand.

”In the meantime would you not like to go with me down our pleasant walk to the pond?” asked Phebe, as she came back where Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d and Willie were conversing familiarly. The lady cheerfully consented and they were soon out of sight among the trees that skirted the meadow brook. When they returned, Willie was sitting by the side of Frank and his usually pale face was flushed with excitement.

”If you like we will go around by the old town road,” said the driver as the rest of his company became seated. ”It will be two miles farther back but it is cool and shady.” ”All right!” and the happy trio were rapidly borne away. Phebe had told her friend how her ”dear brother”

became so helpless and his sensitiveness in regard to it, and had more than once seen the tears of sympathy glisten in the fine eyes of the listener at the narration.

”His feet and limbs below the knees have not grown since he was a baby,”

she had said; ”and of course they cannot bear the body, which is well developed. He can creep about very well, but is unwilling that any one outside of his own home should see him. When a mere child he has told me his manner of locomotion was to sit and _hitch_ himself about, which gave him the appellation among the boys of 'hitch Evans' which so mortified his pride that he would not appear among them.”

”Poor boy!” was the low response. Now, however, Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d chatted pleasantly with him about the beauties of the landscape--the fading glories of the pa.s.sing summer and of her own home in the sunny south, until as he said after, ”I forgot that I was a mere cypher amid it all.”

At last they arrived at the hotel, and as Frank with his strong arms set him on the broad winding stairway he scrambled up to the top on his hands and knees, laughing as he did so because Phebe would wait for his slow movements rather than trip forward with Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d, who wanted to see if Tiny had all things in readiness.