Volume I Part 68 (2/2)
”I am not certain,” said Fleda; ”there were two talked of; the last I heard was, that it was an old Mr. Carey; but from what I hear this morning, I suppose it must be the other ? a Mr.
Ollum, or some such queer name, I believe.”
Fleda thought her hearer looked very much amused, and followed his eye into the room, where Mrs. Evelyn was going about in all quarters looking at everything, and finding occasion to enter into conversation with at least a quarter of the people who were present. Whatever she was saying, it seemed at that moment to have something to do with them, for sundry eyes turned in their direction; and presently Dr. Quackenboss came up, with even more than common suavity of manner.
”I trust Miss Ringgan will do me the favour of making me acquainted with ? a ? with our future pastor!” said the doctor, looking, however, not at all at Miss Ringgan, but straight at the pastor in question. ”I have great pleasure in giving you the first welcome, Sir ? or, I should say, rather the second; since, no doubt, Miss Ringgan has been in advance of me. It is not un ? a ? appropriate, Sir, for I may say we ?
a ? divide the town between us. You are, I am sure, a worthy representative of Peter and Paul; and I am ? a ? a pupil of Esculapius, Sir! You are the intellectual physician, and I am the external.”
”I hope we shall both prove ourselves good workmen, Sir,” said the young minister, shaking the doctor's hand heartily.
”This is Dr. Quackenboss; Mr. Olmney,” said Fleda, making a tremendous effort. But though she could see corresponding indications about her companion's eyes and mouth, she admired the kindness and self-command with which he listened to the doctor's civilities and answered them; expressing his grateful sense of the favours received, not only from him, but from others.
”Oh ? a little to begin with,” said the doctor, looking round upon the room, which would certainly have furnished _that_ for fifty people; ”I hope we aint done yet by considerable ? But here is Miss Ringgan, Mr. ? a ? Ummin, that has brought you some of the fruits of her own garden, with her own fair hands ? a basket of fine strawberries, which, I am sure ? a ? will make you forget everything else!”
Mr. Olmney had the good-breeding not to look at Fleda, as he answered, ”I am sure the spirit of kindness was the same in all, Dr. Quackenboss, and I trust not to forget that readily.”
Others now came up; and Mr. Olmney was walked off to be ”made acquainted” with all, or with all the chief of his paris.h.i.+oners then and there a.s.sembled. Fleda watched him going about, shaking hands, talking and smiling, in all directions, with about as much freedom of locomotion as a fly in a spider's web; till, at Mrs. Evelyn's approach, the others fell off a little, and taking him by the arm, she rescued him.
”My dear Mr. Olmney,” she whispered, with an intensely amused face, ”I shall have a vision of you every day for a month to come, sitting down to dinner, with a rueful face, to a whortleberry pie; for there are so many of them, your conscience will not let you have anything else cooked, ? you cannot manage more than one a day.”
”Pies!” said the young gentleman, as Mrs. Evelyn left talking, to indulge her feelings in ecstatic quiet laughing ? ”I have a horror of pies!”
”Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Evelyn, nodding her head delightedly, as she drew him towards the pantry ? ”I know! ? Come and see what is in store for you. You are to do penance for a month to come with tin pans of blackberry jam, fringed with pie crust ? no, they can't be blackberries, they must be raspberries, the blackberries are not ripe yet. And you may sup upon cake and custards, unless you give the custards for the little pig out there, he will want something.”
”A pig!” said Mr. Olmney, in amaze ? Mrs. Evelyn again giving out in distress. ”A pig!” said Mr. Olmney.
”Yes, a pig ? a very little one,” said Mrs. Evelyn, convulsively. ”I am sure he is hungry now.”
They had reached the pantry, and Mr. Olmney's face was all that was wanting to Mrs. Evelyn's delight. How she smothered it, so that it should go no further than to distress his self- command, is a mystery known only to the initiated. Mrs.
Dougla.s.s was forthwith called into council.
”Mrs. Dougla.s.s,” said Mr. Olmney, ”I feel very much inclined to play the host, and beg my friends to share with me some of these good things they have been so bountifully providing.”
”He would enjoy them much more than he would alone, Mrs.
Dougla.s.s,” said Mrs. Evelyn, who still had hold of Mr.
Olmney's arm, looking round to the lady with a most benign face.
”I reckon some of 'em would be past enjoying by the time he got to 'em, wouldn't they?” said the lady. ”Well, they'll have to take 'em in their fingers, for our crockery ha'n't come yet ? I shall have to jog Mr. Flatt's elbow; but hungry folks aint curious.”
”In their fingers, or any way, provided you have only a knife to cut them with,” said Mr. Olmney, while Mrs. Evelyn squeezed his arm in secret mischief; ”and pray, if we can muster two knives, let us cut one of these cheeses, Mrs. Dougla.s.s.”
And presently Fleda saw pieces of pie walking about in all directions, supported by pieces of cheese. And then Mrs.
Evelyn and Mr. Olmney came out from the pantry and came towards her, the latter bringing her, with his own hands, a portion in a tin pan. The two ladies sat down in the window together to eat and be amused.
”My dear Fleda, I hope you are hungry,” said Mrs. Evelyn, biting her pie, Fleda could not help thinking, with an air of good-humoured condescension.
”I am, Ma'am,” she said, laughing.
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