Part 30 (1/2)
”Yes'm! Caught him jes' agoin' to take the stage.”
”Going _away_?” Nancy cried.
”Yes'm. He hed a big bag and he give me a handshake like he was goin'
to be away for a spell, tho' it's most harvestin' and he's not the kind to leave Judson short-handed--not him.”
After a moment Nancy grew conscious that old Jonathan was staring curiously at her. So she turned and walked slowly back to the house.
Peter Hyde had gone away--without a word! He would read her letter--he would always think of her as she had pictured herself in it! And he might never know how the curious tangle had come out!
CHAPTER XXVII
ARCHIE EATON RETURNS
Liz, returning from her ”afternoon's work at the meeting house, blew breathlessly into the Hopworth kitchen.
”As I live, Archie Eaton's comin' home--this blessed day! His ma got a telegram last night; Sammy Todd brought it over from Nor' Hero on his bicycle. And Webb's put a notice in the post-office--he wants every man, woman and child to meet on the Common to-night at seven to sort o'
welcome Archie to home.”
”Everybody? Me and Davy,” broke in Nonie, excitedly.
”Of course, when Webb says every man, woman and child it means all of us,” answered Liz with importance, smoothing out her gingham ap.r.o.n.
Three days had entirely made over Liz Hopworth. Sarah Hopkins' death had given Liz, hitherto an outcast, a position of importance in the community. However unfitting Freedom's ladies might have thought it, nevertheless it was an undisputable fact, and everyone knew it, that Liz's hands had ”done for” the stricken family; she had cleaned and comforted, dusted and baked and st.i.tched together suitable mourning for poor Jennie, the oldest Hopkins girl. At the simple funeral it had been Liz who had greeted the neighbors and had urged them to ”just look at Sarah Hopkins--you'd think she was enjoyin' it all, she's that happy lookin'!” What no one else knew was that it had been Liz who had put her arms around Jennie Hopkins when a complete realization of her loss had swept over the girl and had bade her ”just lay your poor little head right here and cry all you want to!” Never in all her life had Liz's arms known such a labor of love. Jennie _had_ cried all she wanted to--great, heart-breaking sobs that had, though they exhausted, finally soothed her.
From his corner where old Dan'l, with hanging head waited his supper, came a grunt of unbelief. Liz turned reprovingly.
”Anyway, Archie Eaton's a soldier even if he be an Eaton!” Then, to Nonie: ”I met Mis' Sniggs comin' up the village and she wants all the little girls to wear white and throw bouquets at Archie as he's gettin'
off the stage and sing America. She's goin' to get the flowers at Mis'
Todd's and Mis' Brown's. Miss Nancy's white's too nice, but I guess your gingham's faded most white 'nough. Anyways, it's plenty good.”
”Have I time to run up and tell Miss Nancy?”
”Lan' sakes, no! We gotta get supper spry so's to have the work cleared away. Nancy Leavitt knows it, I callate--ain't much happens Webb doesn't carry straight off up to Happy House. I guess maybe they're pretty busy, too. Things is certainly changin', I said, when Sabriny Leavitt goes to poor Sarah Hopkins' funeral, sittin' right on the plush chair over in the right-hand corner near the waxed flowers.
And sure's I'm alive, she's taken the Hopkins baby up to Happy House to do for. She wanted it to keep regular like her own, but Timothy Hopkins wouldn't listen for a minit--his children wa'nt a goin' to be separated if they all starved! Seems to me he was foolish, but he was awful set and mebbe he was right. Dan'l Hopworth, take off your slippers! Of course you're goin' to see Archie Eaton come home! I guess you're as patriotic as any other folks.”
Liz's determination won its point so that a little before seven the entire Hopworth family joined every other ”man, woman and child” on the village common. The common presented a pretty sight, big and small flags fluttering, the weather-worn service flag again hoisted to its place of honor and women and children in their best attire. Mrs.
Eaton, upon whom every glance turned with frank curiosity, did not need her gorgeous purple poplin with its lace ruffles swelling over her proud bosom, to make her the most conspicuous figure in the gathering--that she was the mother of the returning soldier was enough!
And her eyes, as they strained down the road like the others, for a first glimpse of Webb's horses, were wet with tears.
Someone saw a little cloud of dust and set up a shout: ”He's comin'!”
Others took up the cry. Mrs. Sniggs frantically gathered her flock of little singers around the carriage-block in front of the meeting-house, where Webb had promised to pull up his team. Some one pushed Mrs.
Eaton toward the spot.
”_There_ he is,” piped a small boy, pointing to the khaki figure that leaned out of the stage, violently waving a hat.