Hildegarde's Harvest Part 18

"Oh, we met them just now! He--he's about nine feet tall, to begin with."

"That _is_ a beginning! Where does he expect to end? But I have seen Mr.

Ferrers, Jerry. I saw him last night."

"You did? Why didn't you tell a fellow?"

"Oh, I--I--hardly know!" said downright Bell, unused to even the whitest fib. She really could not, perhaps, have put into words the feeling that had kept her silent about the scene of the night before.

"But that is no matter!" she went on. "What else is the matter with him, besides height? He can't help that, you know."

"I don't suppose he can. But he can help making up to Hilda, Bell, and he'd better!" savagely. "Only it's too late now, I suppose!"

despondently. "Why on earth the fellow couldn't stay and fiddle over there, where he's wanted,--don't admire their taste, by the way!--instead of coming over here to spoil everything, is more than _I_ know!"

"Horrid shame!" murmured Phil, taking careful aim with a pebble at an innocent cat that was crossing the lawn.

Bell struck his hand up.

"I won't have the cats teased, Phil! And as for all this nonsense--"

"It isn't nonsense!" cried both boys, earnestly.

"I tell you we met them just now," Gerald went on, "and when he saw us, he looked black as thunder, and had hardly manners to speak to us.

Perfectly odious; wasn't he, Ferguson?"

"Absolutely!" echoed Phil.

"And you were very cordial to him, of course?" said Bell. "You let him see that you were glad to meet him, and that as Hilda's warm friends you were anxious to welcome her cousin cordially, and to show him all the courtesy you could?"

The twins looked at each other. Bell had an extraordinary way of putting things sometimes.

"We didn't do anything of the sort!" said Phil, with an attempt at bl.u.s.ter.

"Because if you did not," his sister went on, "I am afraid you must have seemed very rude, my children. Rude and silly!"

"I wouldn't call names, Tintinnabula!" said Gerald, turning red.

"Sorry to be obliged to," retorted his sister, in perfect good humour.

"But if you looked at Mr. Ferrers as you are looking now, there really can be no doubt about the matter. Now listen, boys! I know--Hilda has told me--a great deal about this Mr. Jack Ferrers. Hilda loves him dearly, as dearly as if he were her own brother, and in exactly the same way. You need not shake your heads and try to look wise, my dears, because you are _not_ wise! You are two very foolish boys, who are trying to run your heads against a stone wall when there is no wall there. That is the state of the case about Mr. Ferrers. I know Hildegarde pretty well, and I am sure of what I am saying. You need have no fear of him. As for Roger,--well, I don't think you need have any fear for Roger either."

"Has he--has she--do you think they are--"

"Hus.h.!.+" cried Bell, putting a hand over the mouth of each. "I don't think anything! At least--well, that isn't true, of course; but it does no good to talk about these things, dear boys. I do not think Hilda and Roger are--are engaged." Bell dropped her voice to a whisper. "But I feel quite sure they will be some day, when the time comes. I think they understand each other very well. Roger will be here soon; suppose you leave it all to him, Phil and Jerry, and don't worry about it. But there is one thing you can do, and it should be done soon."

"What?" cried both boys, eagerly.

"Put on your good clothes, and your good manners, and go to call at Roseholme."

"We'll be shot if we will!" cried the twins.

"Be just as nice as you know how to be to Mr. Jack Ferrers. He--he is a remarkable person, I have reason to think. You see," she spoke rather hastily, "Hilda has told me so much about him. And I--well, I heard him play last night, and he is a very wonderful performer, boys. You never, in your little lives, heard anything like his playing. He is too much in love with his art to think of any such nonsense as has been troubling your silly heads; you will understand that, the moment you hear him."

Gerald made a feeble protest to the effect that he hated fiddling, but there was little hope in his tone. And he was promptly reminded of his having spent his last fifty cents the winter before on a ticket for Sarasate's concert, and saying that it was the best investment he ever made.

The boys knew that their cause was lost; and when Bell added, as a clincher, "Ask Mammy, and see what she says," they retired from the unequal contest.

"Oh, we know what Mammy will say! Don't hit us when we are down, Bell.

We'll go, and make a.s.ses of ourselves as well as we know how."

"Oh, not that, dears, I entreat!" cried Bell; and then ran swiftly into the house, laughing.

The twins resumed their occupation of pitching gravel stones, but a change had come over their spirits. Phil was actually whistling, and Gerald hummed a ba.s.s with perfect cheerfulness. The cat came back across the lawn, and they threw stones before her nose and behind her tail, avoiding contact with her person (for she was a beloved cat, in hours of joy), and contenting themselves with seeing her skip hither and thither in uninjured surprise.

"Philly!"

"Yes, Jerry!"

"Us feels a lot better, don't us, Philly?"

"H'm!" said Phil, and the sound was now one of content and peace.

"She's not a bad sort, the Tintinnabula!" Gerald went on, meditatively.

"She doesn't harry a fellow, as some fellows' sisters do. She pokes you up and smooths you down at the same time, somehow. That's the way a girl ought to be--my opinion. Come along, Ferguson, and let's do something to celebrate!"

"All right!" said Phil. "What shall we do?"

"Oh, any old thing! Come along!"

And they went and wrestled in the conservatory, and broke three flower-pots, and had a delightful morning.

CHAPTER XII.

JIMMY'S POND.

SO it came to pa.s.s that, as Jack Ferrers was strolling about the garden with Hugh after dinner, talking about old times, and pausing at every other step to greet some favourite shrub or stick or stone,--it came to pa.s.s that he heard steps at the gate, and, turning, saw the Messrs.

Merryweather, holding themselves very straight, and looking very sheepish. They had compromised with Bell on skating dress, instead of the detested "good clothes," and Gerald carried several pairs of skates in his hand. They fumbled with the latch a moment, during which Jack felt extremely young, and was conscious of redness creeping up to his ears. But then, they were quite as red, he reflected; and, after all, as Hilda said, he was two years older than these boys, and if they really were all she made them out to be--why--

So it was a very different-looking Jack who advanced to meet the embarra.s.sed boys at the gate. It was perhaps the first time in his young life that Gerald had been embarra.s.sed, and he found the sensation unpleasant.

Before any of them could speak, however, a joyous whoop was heard from another quarter. Hugh had been investigating an old nest, and had just caught sight of the friends from Pumpkin House. He came running now, his face alight with welcome.

"Oh, Jerry! How do you do? How _do_ you do, Phil? I am very well, thank you! Do you know my Jack? Because he has come home; and he is almost the dearest person in the world. And he has grown up his own beanstalk, he says, and that is what makes him so tall. And he has brought me the most beautiful soldiers that ever were, and we are going to have battles, even the prancings, the prancings of their mighty ones! Hurrah!"

"Hurrah it is!" said Jack. "How d'ye do?" And he held out his hand cordially enough. "Awfully good of you to bring the skates! Come in, won't you, and see my father and my uncle?"