Part 9 (2/2)
”Mr. Walden, allow me to introduce my daughter,” said Mrs. Newville.
There was a startled, wondering look in the hazel eyes. She courtesied, with the fresh blood suffusing her cheeks.
”I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walden,” she said.
”I took the liberty of bringing him,” said Berinthia. ”I was sure you would extend to him the same cordial welcome you give to everybody.”
”Certainly, anybody whom you may invite will always be welcome. Mr.
Walden, shall I serve you with a cup of tea? What kind will you take--shall it be Old Hyson, Bohea, or Tw.a.n.key?”
She stood with a salver ready to serve him.
”I will take Old Hyson, if you please,” he said.
The pink slippers tripped across the lawn to a table where Phillis in white ap.r.o.n and cap, with smiling countenance, was pouring tea from silver urns into dainty cups. So this was the young lady whom he had rescued from the clutches of the villains. What should he say to her?
By no word or look must she know that he was conscious of having befriended her.
The sun was s.h.i.+ning through the branches of the melocotoon tree beneath which she was standing. It seemed to him that the rich bloom of the ripening fruit by some subtle process of nature was being trans.m.u.ted to her face. He recalled the description of the pure-hearted damsel that welcomed the Pilgrim of Bunyan's allegory to the beautiful palace in the land of Beulah. She soon returned bringing with steady hand the salver with the tea, sugar-bowl, and pitcher of cream.
”Shall I serve you with the sugar and cream, Mr. Walden?”
He could but notice the graceful movement of her deft fingers as she picked the sugar from the bowl with the silver tongs, and poured the cream.
”I will bring you some confections,” she said, and tripped away once more, returning with a plate of cake and bonbons.
”I hope you find the tea to your taste?” she said.
”It could not be better,” he replied.
He could see she was scanning his face with an inquiring look, as if endeavoring to solve a perplexing question--whether the stranger in working clothes who rescued her from the arms of the a.s.saulting soldiers and this gentleman in fitting costume for genteel society were one and the same. ”Can it be he?” was the question revolving in her thoughts. The countryman was tall, stout, and broad-shouldered; so was Mr. Walden. She saw resolution and indignation in the face of the stranger. Could not the face before her exhibit like qualities under like provocation? She must find out during the afternoon, if possible, whether or not Mr. Walden was her benefactor. If so, what should she say to him--how make known her grat.i.tude?
”And so you are from New Hamps.h.i.+re, Mr. Walden?” she said inquiringly.
”Yes, and this is my first visit to Boston.”
”I dare say you find things somewhat different here from what they are there.”
”Oh yes. In Rumford the houses are scattered; but here they are as thick as spatter. There isn't near so many things going on there as here.”
”I think it must be delightful to live in the country, among the green fields and pastures, and have chickens and goslins, and see the lambs play.”
”Yes; but we have to look sharp, to see that the foxes, and hawks, and weasels don't get 'em.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Berinthia, who introduced him to Miss Lucy Flucker[27], daughter of the secretary of the Province, Miss Dorothy Quincy, Miss Mary Shrimpton, and to Isaac and John Coffin[28], sons of his majesty's receiver-general.
[Footnote 27: Miss Flucker received the attentions of Henry Knox the bookseller, and became his wife. While her father remained loyal to the king, she became an ardent patriot, and married the man of her choice. Soon after the battle of Lexington and Concord, Mr. Knox escaped from Boston. Mrs. Knox received a permit to join him, from General Gage, who had issued an order prohibiting any one from taking arms from the town. The patriotic wife concealed her husband's sword in her underskirts, and successfully eluded the vigilance of the sentinels.]
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