Volume Ii Part 99 (1/2)
The box had interior divisions, by way of help to the silk paper, its different contents being thus more securely separated. Faith's fingers exploring among the papers brought out first a silver chocolate pot, then the dainty china cups for the same, then the spoons, in size and shape just suiting the cups. Spoons and chocolatiere were marked with the right initials; the cups--chocolate colour themselves, that no drop of the dark beverage might hurt their beauty--had each a delicate gilt F. L. twining about the handle.
If the givers could have seen the gift uncovered and inspected!--the rosy delight in Faith's cheeks, the pleasure in her eye! They would have considered themselves rewarded. She looked and bent over the pretty things, her att.i.tude and blush half veiling her admiration and satisfaction, but there was no veiling them when she looked up at Mr.
Linden. ”I am so glad you like chocolate!”--she said naively. But it was worth a hundred remarks of aesthetic criticism.
”I am so glad I do!” he said, stooping to kiss her. ”Faith, one would almost imagine some bird of the air had told them our chocolate a.s.sociations.”
”Now won't you put these back for me?” said Faith,--”because, if that sponge cake is to get done to-day I haven't two minutes to lose!”
The pretty chocolatiere was but the beginning, as Faith soon found.
Found to her most utter and unbounded astonishment--though to that of no one else.
Tuesday arrived a packet from Madame Danforth, accompanied by a note of affection and congratulation. The present was peculiar. A satin sachet, embroidered after the little Frenchwoman's desire, and to do it justice very exquisitely scented, was the first thing. A set of window curtains and toilet cover, of a curious and elaborate pattern of netting, made of very fine thread,--a manufacture in which Madame Danforth delighted and on which she prided herself,--was the second thing. The third was a pretty breakfast service of French china.
Faith enjoyed them all, with some amus.e.m.e.nt and some pleasure of possession, and not a little affectionate remembrance. Even the sachet, in this view, was particularly precious; that was the only use Faith saw in it. But the next arrival gave her a great start.
It was again this time a deal box, but immensely heavy; and it was a strong box that Faith did not attempt to open; marked only 'Grover & Baker', which told her nothing. There was no occasion indeed. A note was delivered with the box, and a small covered basket. The note conveyed the a.s.surance of Sophy Harrison's love and a request that Faith would let her shew it on the present occasion. It went on.--
”Papa has sent you, dear Faith, an odd thing for a present--for _such_ a present--but I haven't been able to put it out of his head. He insists it is what you ought to have, and that he shall have the pleasure of giving it to you To save you the trouble of opening the box before you want it, I will state that it contains a _sewing machine_.
Papa has taken great pains to satisfy himself--and it is certainly the best or one of the best. My offering, dear Faith, is in the basket, and may be looked at with less difficulty.”
Miss Sophy's offering was a kindly one. She had sent a little invoice of silver spoons and forks. Faith was pleased; and yet she looked grave, and very grave, over these things. She made no remark whatever to say why.
If no one else knew there was to be a wedding, at least the express man did!--and probably in his mind joined these new packages with those he had so often brought before, very comfortably. The next arrival was a delicate pair of silver salt-cellars and spoons from Mr. Alcott,--then a little framed sketch from the Captain of the Vulcan, portraying the meeting of two steamers at sea, with these words underneath--'The despatch post'. At which Mr. Linden looked with much amus.e.m.e.nt. Faith was delighted.
First on Wednesday morning came Miss Bezac,--bringing the well a.s.sorted tokens of an elaborate needlebook and a simple bread trencher and knife; and staying only long enough to say, ”You see, Faith, what made me think of this, was that the first time I heard of _that_, was when you came in for bread and milk. And now you'll have to think of me, whether you sew or eat!”--with which triumphant sentiment Miss Bezac departed.
They say ill news flies fast,--in this case so did the good: certainly people are quick to hear and understand what pleases them. The friends who had heard from Pet or Mrs. Iredell what was to be, had spread the information: and in the same sort of way, from two or three old family dependants another cla.s.s of Mr. Linden's friends had heard it. Perhaps among all her presents the little tokens from these people touched her most. They came queerly done up and directed, sometimes the more formal 'Mrs. Linden' changed into an ill-spelled '_For Mr. Endecott's wife_'--or '_For the young lady, in care of Mr. Linden_'. She knew the names thereto appended as little as they knew hers,--could only guess the vocations,--the tokens were various. A pair of elaborately carved brackets,--a delicate rustic footstool, trimmed with acorns and cones,--a wooden screw pincus.h.i.+on, with a flaming red velvet top,--a case of scissors, pretty enough to have come from anybody, declared the trade of the sender by the black finger marks on the brown wrapper, and a most mysteriously compiled address. One of the old sailors who had crossed with Mr. Linden long ago, sent by Pet's hands a stuffed tropical bird of gorgeous colours; a woman who had once been upper servant in his mother's house, sent by the same messenger a white toilet cus.h.i.+on, made exactly after one that had belonged to her mistress and which she had been allowed to keep. It was worth while to see Mr. Linden examine these things,--every name was familiar to him, every one called up some story or recollection. Alternating with these, came richer presents,--books and vases and silver; then from the poor people in and about Pattaqua.s.set, a couple of corn husk mats, a nest of osier baskets. The children brought wild flowers and wild strawberries, the fishermen brought fish, till Mrs. Derrick said, ”Child, we might as well begin to lay down for winter!”
Ency Stephens, having got Reuben to bring her two fine long razor sh.e.l.ls, had transformed them into a pincus.h.i.+on. This she sent, with a kiss, by Mr. Linden.
”I half promised her that she might come before the rest of the world to-morrow, Faith,” he said. ”She never saw any one married, and has the greatest desire to see you--and I said if you were willing, Reuben should bring her here at one o'clock.” Faith was just then exploring the contents of a new package--or rather two: one of as many spools of white thread as she had scholars in her little cla.s.s, (presented by Robbie Waters,) the other a wee far-sent carved box of curled maple.
She looked up with wet eyes.
”Oh let her come, Endecott--I should like to have her here.”
Faith had been living in a strange atmosphere this week. The first presents that came simply pleased and amused her to a great degree; Judge Harrison's and his daughter's she saw with a strong admixture of painful feeling. But as tokens from rich and poor began to throng in--not of respect for her wedding-day so much as of respect and love for Mr. Linden,--Faith's mood grew very tender and touched. Never perhaps, since the world stood, did anybody receive wedding presents from friends known and unknown with a more gentle and humble heart-return to the senders. There was no least thing of them all that Faith did not dearly value; it told her of something so much better than the gifts, and it signified of a link that bound her with that.
How beautiful to her eyes the meanest of all those trifles did seem!
and for the rest, she was as quick to be delighted with what was really beautiful and glad of what would be really useful, as any sensible child could have been. So the amus.e.m.e.nt with which the week began changed into a grave, loving, and somewhat timid appreciation of each new arrival.
Meanwhile, on Faith's table stood a little silver saucepan sent by Mrs.
Somers with the sage remark that she would want it for others if not for herself; and near by, a beautiful b.u.t.ter cup and knife from Mrs.
Stoutenburgh. With the b.u.t.ter cup trotted down a little mountain pony, with the daintiest saddle and bridle that the Squire could find for money.
Miss Linden's love had chosen for itself sundry channels; from the silver knives--of all sorts--which made their appearance now, to various comforts, great and small, which were to await her brother and sister in their new home. In those Mrs. Iredell too had a share; her present token was a silver tea-service, whereon the chasing developed itself in sprays of mignonette. A mark of attention which Mr. Linden at least appreciated.
CHAPTER XLIII.