Lily Pearl and The Mistress of Rosedale Part 10

"O, you needn't look so wonderingly at me," she continued, laughing. "I only thought I would tell you to put on your new white dress, as it is such a lovely morning, and then I want you to appear your best, for I know _he_ will appreciate it," and she was gone.

"Well does she know how to be a comforter," thought Phebe.

How well she remembered at that moment the last walk she had with Willie down by the little pond, and his mournful wail of desolation as they talked of his lonely future without her!

The bell sounded along the hall telling all who desired an early breakfast that it was now ready, so hastening with her toilet, she opened the door leading to Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d's room, and to her surprise found her also ready to go with her.

"I have had a new thought," she said gaily, "and have ordered the carriage. We will go together and take him out for a little airing.

Rover, I have no doubt, will be much obliged to be excused for one day.

Two miles and a half is a pretty long road for such a brute to draw so heavy a load."

Phebe made no answer, for she was a little disappointed. She had antic.i.p.ated the walk back and the uninterrupted talk more than she had herself been aware of.

"Do you not like my arrangement?" queried the lady, artlessly.

Phebe expressed much pleasure at the prospect, and, come to think of it, "the new plan was preferable, as it would take away all embarra.s.sment in the meeting with f.a.n.n.y."

The carriage was at the door when the two were ready, and in a few minutes they halted before the parsonage to report the change. Then away they rolled on their delicate errand of pleasure and comfort.

Never had Phebe looked so fresh and pretty as now. Her plain hat of white straw sat jauntily on her heavy braids of jetty hair, from beneath which her dark eyes shone with a new brilliancy, her dress, about which Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d had been so particular, set off her well rounded form to the best advantage, and as she sat by the richly attired lady no one would have imagined that the two were mistress and menial. Some such thoughts must have pa.s.sed through the mind of the young girl, for her cheeks glowed, and an air of worth if not superiority, sat with easy dignity upon her every movement.

"There he is," she exclaimed, as they came in sight of the white cottage among the maples. "He is waiting for us."

"Hurry Frank," said the lady, "he does not yet recognize you Phebe."

"Willie, dear brother Willie!" she called out as the carriage drew up before the gate, and in a moment she had darted down by his side, and throwing her arms around his neck said cheerily: "Come, Willie, Mrs.

g.a.y.l.o.r.d wants to take you out for a ride! It is lovely, and Rover can have a rest!" His face crimsoned as he realized that strangers were witnessing their joyful meeting. Unperceived Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d had approached, and holding out her hand said pleasantly: "Phebe was so selfish that she was going to have you all to herself but I concluded to defeat her plans. Will you be so kind as to go with us and spend the day at our rooms? We will try to make it very pleasant for you." All this was said with so much tenderness that it would have been impossible for the poor boy to refuse.

"Let me get your hat, for I see that you are all ready as usual," and Phebe forgetting her dread of the "frigid f.a.n.n.y" rushed into the house, meeting that important personage on the very threshold.

"Good morning" was her cheerful salutation; "we are going to take Willie away from you for a few hours, and I have come for his hat."

"He has not been to breakfast yet," was the chilling reply. "I think you had better wait and give him time to eat."

"Perhaps it would be better," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Phebe as she pa.s.sed her, hat in hand.

"In the meantime would you not like to go with me down our pleasant walk to the pond?" asked Phebe, as she came back where Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d and Willie were conversing familiarly. The lady cheerfully consented and they were soon out of sight among the trees that skirted the meadow brook. When they returned, Willie was sitting by the side of Frank and his usually pale face was flushed with excitement.

"If you like we will go around by the old town road," said the driver as the rest of his company became seated. "It will be two miles farther back but it is cool and shady." "All right!" and the happy trio were rapidly borne away. Phebe had told her friend how her "dear brother"

became so helpless and his sensitiveness in regard to it, and had more than once seen the tears of sympathy glisten in the fine eyes of the listener at the narration.

"His feet and limbs below the knees have not grown since he was a baby,"

she had said; "and of course they cannot bear the body, which is well developed. He can creep about very well, but is unwilling that any one outside of his own home should see him. When a mere child he has told me his manner of locomotion was to sit and _hitch_ himself about, which gave him the appellation among the boys of 'hitch Evans' which so mortified his pride that he would not appear among them."

"Poor boy!" was the low response. Now, however, Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d chatted pleasantly with him about the beauties of the landscape--the fading glories of the pa.s.sing summer and of her own home in the sunny south, until as he said after, "I forgot that I was a mere cypher amid it all."

At last they arrived at the hotel, and as Frank with his strong arms set him on the broad winding stairway he scrambled up to the top on his hands and knees, laughing as he did so because Phebe would wait for his slow movements rather than trip forward with Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d, who wanted to see if Tiny had all things in readiness.

It was a delightful day to them all. Dinner was served in the upper room, and Phebe thought as she watched the glowing face of her brother that it was never before half so beautiful as now. Was it because Phebe was again near him? Or had the kind words and suggestions of his new friend aroused energies of which before he was not conscious? It was true that every moment had been filled with reading and conversation and it was all so new to Willie! "It is a fact," continued Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d after Tiny had taken off the last dish from the table; "that many with far less brains and more inefficient than yourself have filled important places in the world's history. With exercise I do not see why your body should not become st.u.r.dy and robust. I have a friend in Boston who has a large clothing store and manufactures his own goods, and the great object of insisting upon your company to-day was to tell you that I will, if you desire it, bring your case to his notice, and if he favors my suggestions will let you know all about it."

"O--if I could!" came from his overflowing heart. "If I could only do something! I have always been told that it was no use for me to exert myself for I was helpless, and I had settled down as far as it was possible on that supposition."

"But you are not! Your present skill with the needle has its advantages and in a very short time you would be independent at least. Labor brings contentment and with it the years would not pa.s.s so laggardly."

Phebe had come up behind him and was smoothing his brown curls with her gentle hand, and reaching up his trembling one he clasped hers tightly as he asked:

"Phebe, more than sister, can I do this? Will the time ever come when I shall cease to eat the bread of dependence? Tell me Phebe, for your words have ever given me strength; am I truly only the long withered stalk you hold as the emblem of myself?"

"No, Willie! Believe what Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d has said and grow firm! You can--you will! I feel it in my heart you 'will go up the stairs' and leave some at the foot who do not now expect to stay there! I thought of it to-day and determined not to let you go ahead of me, and so kept close by your side." She laughed while he warmly pressed the hand he had been holding.

"You see," interposed Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d, "Phebe and I have talked a little about this but I did not mention, even to her, the plans which for more than two weeks I have been maturing. To-morrow we will go to the city, Phebe and I, and see what can be done, and if you will come to us on the following day all can be decided."

It _was_ decided! Mr. Bancroft of Boston would do well by him; take him into his own home and see that his wants were attended to until he had become efficient in the business, and then give him a place in his establishment if he proved himself worthy.

"Worthy?" exclaimed Phebe; "he is n.o.ble--he will be all you can desire!"

"The hearts of young ladies are not always reliable in _business_ relations," replied the gentleman with a mischievous twinkle in his bright eye. "However, Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d, upon your maturer judgment I will try him, for really you have excited in me an interest for the young man; and I see no reason why he cannot be a master workman. _I_ began life by coiling my feet under me on the bench, and I could have done it just as well had they not been incased in No. 9's." He laughed. "His Rover will be just the thing; he can soon be taught to bring his master to his work and return to his kennel for protection. And by the way, I shall be obliged to see that _his_ animal has an 'ordinance' of its own.

They kill dogs here so promiscuously."

"_I_ had thought of that and concluded to set Pompy at work training another for his use as soon as I return home. You know he is famous at such work."

Willie received the report of their successful mission in the city with almost ecstatic joy. "Can it be true?" he thought. There would be difficulties; any amount of pride must be overcome--shrinking sensitiveness subdued--but he would try! To have aspirations--antic.i.p.ations of success--what more could he desire?

In three days Mrs. g.a.y.l.o.r.d would go with Willie to his new home and Phebe was to accompany them.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XI.

"ROSEDALE."

Come with me, gentle reader, to the sunny south, to the land of orange groves, where the air is sweetest and the sky is bluest; where nature's lyre does not of necessity get unstrung or lose her summer melodies as winter breaks in with harsh, discordant notes to jar the ear and chill the rich, warm blood. Come to the land of flowers, of poetry, of dreams.

Hard seems the fate which thrusts a "serpent into every paradise," in whose trail death follows, withering up its freshness and throwing a net-work of decay over its richest beauties. Yet such is the intruder blighting many homes in the cold regions of the bustling north, as well as in the clime where the sweet singers of the faded woods delight to pour out their winter's songs. Alas! that it should be so.

"Why, my Lily-Bell, how faded you look this morning! Worse than the rose you wore in your hair last night. Now let me wager something. What shall it be? Ah! my yesterday's letter against your's of yesterday, also, that I can divine the cause. Shall it be? Ah! that smile! It was like the morning zephyrs sporting with the withered petals of my 'Lily-Bell.' Let me kiss back its beauty, or breath some of my exuberance into it, which seems so worthless in its prodigality," and the lively little lady bent over the invalid's chair and kissed over and over again the brow of her companion.

"There! there! Look quickly! Two little rose leaves of unquestionably pinkish hue are fluttering in close proximity to those lovely dimples.

But they have flitted away again. What a pity that beauty is so fleeting."

"I should think you would despair, dear Grace, of charming one into life who has been so long dead. The task would be more congenial to your taste, I imagine, to roll me up and lay me away in your casket of precious relics for memory to grow sentimental over in future years. Why do you not do it, _la Pet.i.te_? Own that you are weary, as the rest do, and thrust me out of sight."

"No, indeed; I have no pa.s.sion for musty relics. Come, let us away to the drawing-room. It is nearly time for breakfast."

"Are you aware, cousin mine, of the compliments you have been showering upon me, 'fading, withering,' etc.? To tell the truth, I am quite unwilling, under their pressure, to appear before our brilliant guests, understanding now the full array of blemishes of which I am the possessor."

"I was only prattling, Lily-Bell. Nothing human could be purer or sweeter than that face of yours. Let me picture it," and kneeling on the carpet before her companion, she took a little white hand and pressed it lovingly in her own.