Unable to say more, for the tears, Thorpe stumbled out of the room.
Araminta"s own eyes were wet and her heart was strangely tender to all the world. Miss Evelina, the kitten, Mr. Thorpe, Doctor Ralph--even Aunt Hitty--were all included in a wave of unspeakable tenderness.
Never stopping to question, Araminta sped out of the house, her feet following where her heart led. Past the crossroads, to the right, down into the village, across the tracks, then sharply to the left, up to Doctor Dexter"s, where, only a few weeks before, she had gone in the hope of seeing Doctor Ralph, Araminta ran like some young Atalanta, across whose path no golden apples were thrown.
The door was open, and she rushed in, unthinking, turning by instinct into the library, where Ralph sat alone, leaning his head upon his hand.
"Doctor Ralph!" she cried, "I"ve come!"
He looked up, then started forward. One look into her glorified face told him all that he needed to know. "Undine," he said, huskily, "have you found your soul?"
"I don"t know what I"ve found," sobbed Araminta, from the shelter of his arms, "but I"ve come, to stay with you always, if you"ll let me!"
"If I"ll let you," murmured Ralph, kissing away her happy tears. "You little saint, it"s what I want as I want nothing else in the world."
"I know what it is to be married," said Araminta, after a little, her grave, sweet eyes on his. "I asked Mr. Thorpe to-night and he told me.
It"s to be always with the one you love, and never to mind what anybody else says or does. It"s to help each other bear everything and be twice as happy because you"re together. It means that somebody will always help you when things go wrong, and there"ll always be something you can lean on. You"ll never be afraid of anything, because you"re together. My mother was married, your mother was married, and I"ve found out that Aunt Hitty"s mother was married, too.
"And Mr. Thorpe--he would have been married, but she died. He told me and he showed me her picture, and he says that it doesn"t make any difference to be dead, when you love anybody, and that Heaven, for him, will be where she waits for him and puts her hand in his again. He was crying, and so was I, but it"s because he has her and I have you!"
"Sweetheart! Darling!" cried Ralph, crushing her into his close embrace. "It"s G.o.d Himself who brought you to me now!"
"No," returned Araminta, missing the point, "I came all by myself. And I ran all the way. n.o.body brought me. But I"ve come, for always, and I"ll never leave you again. I"m sorry I broke your heart!"
"You"ve made it well again," he said, fondly, "and so we"ll be married--you and I."
"Yes," repeated Araminta, her beautiful face alight with love, "we"ll be married, you and I!"
"Sweet," he said, "do you think I deserve so much?"
"Being married is giving everything," she explained, "but I haven"t anything at all. Only eight quilts and me! Do you care for quilts?"
"Quilts be everlastingly condemned. I"m going to tell Aunt Hitty."
"No," said Araminta, "I"m going to tell her my own self, so now! And I"ll tell her to-morrow!"
It was after ten when Ralph took Araminta home. From the parlour window Miss Mehitable was watching anxiously. She had divested herself of the rustling black silk and was safely screened by the shutters.
She had been at home an hour or more, and though she had received plenty of good advice, of a stern nature, from her orthodox counsellor, her mind was far from at rest. Having conjured up all sorts of dire happenings, she was relieved when she heard voices outside.
Miss Mehitable peered out eagerly from behind the shutters. Up the road came Araminta--may the saints preserve us!--with a man! Miss Mehitable quickly placed him as that blackmailing play-doctor who now should never have his four dollars and a half unless he collected it by law. Only in the last ditch would she surrender.
They were talking and laughing, and Ralph"s black-coated arm was around Araminta"s white-robed waist. They came slowly to the gate, where they stopped. Araminta laid her head confidingly upon Ralph"s shoulder and he held her tightly in his arms, kissing her repeatedly, as Miss Mehitable guessed, though she could not see very well.
At last they parted and Araminta ran lightly into the house, saying, in a low, tender voice: "To-morrow, dear, to-morrow!"
She went up-stairs, singing. Even then Miss Mehitable observed that it was not a hymn, but some light and unG.o.dly tune she had picked up, Heaven knew where!
She went to her room, still humming, and presently her light was out, but her guardian angel was too stiff with horror to move.
"O Lord," prayed Araminta, as she sank to sleep, "keep me from the contamination of--not being married to him, for Thy sake, Amen."
XXIV
Telling Aunt Hitty
Araminta woke with the birds. As yet, it was dark, but from afar came the cheery voice of a robin, piping gaily of coming dawn. When the first ray of light crept into her room, and every bird for miles around was swelling his tiny throat in song, it seemed to her that, until now, she had never truly lived.
The bird that rocked on the maple branch, outside her window, carolling with all his might, was no more free than she. Love had rolled away the stone Aunt Hitty had set before the door of Araminta"s heart, and the imprisoned thing was trying its wings, as joyously as the birds themselves.
Every sense was exquisitely alive and thrilling. Had she been older and known more of the world, Love would not have come to her so, but rather with a great peace, an unending trust. But having waked as surely as the sleeping princess in the tower, she knew the uttermost ecstasy of it--heard the sound of singing trumpets and saw the white light.
Her fear of Aunt Hitty had died, mysteriously and suddenly. She appreciated now, as never before, all that had been done for her. She saw, too, that many things had been done that were better left undone, but in her happy heart was no condemnation for anybody or anything.
Araminta dressed leisurely. Usually, she hurried into her clothes and ran down-stairs to help Aunt Hitty, who was always ready for the day"s work before anybody else was awake but this morning she took her time.
She loved the coolness of the water on her face, she loved her white plump arms, her softly rounded throat, the velvety roses that blossomed on her cheeks, and the wavy brown ma.s.ses of her hair, touched by the sun into tints of copper and gold. For the first time in all her life, Araminta realised that she was beautiful. She did not know that Love brings beauty with it, nor that the light in her eyes, like a new star, had not risen until last night.
She was seriously tempted to slide down the banister--this also having been interdicted since her earliest remembrance--but, being a grown woman, now, she compromised with herself by taking two stairs at a time in a light, skipping, perilous movement that landed her, safe but breathless, in the lower hall.
In the kitchen, wearing an aspect distinctly funereal, was Miss Mehitable. Her brisk, active manner was gone and she moved slowly.
She did not once look up as Araminta came in.
"Good-morning, Aunt Hitty!" cried the girl, pirouetting around the bare floor. "Isn"t this the beautifullest morning that ever was, and aren"t you glad you"re alive?"
"No," returned Miss Mehitable, acidly; "I am not."
"Aren"t you?" asked Araminta, casually, too happy to be deeply concerned about anybody else; "why, what"s wrong?"
"I should think, Araminta Lee, that you "d be the last one on earth to ask what"s wrong!" The flood gates were open now. "Wasn"t it only yesterday that you broke away from all restraint and refused to make any more quilts? Didn"t you put on your best dress in the afternoon when "t want Sunday and I hadn"t told you that you could? Didn"t you pick a rose and stick it into your hair, and have I ever allowed you to pick a flower on the place, to say nothing of doing anything so foolish as to put it in your hair? Flowers and hair don"t go together."
"There"s hair in the parlour," objected Araminta, frivolously, "made up into a wreath of flowers, so I thought as long as you had them made out of dead people"s hair, I"d put some roses in mine, now, while I"m alive."
Miss Mehitable compressed her lips sternly and went on.
"Didn"t you take a rug out of the parlour last night and spread it on the porch, and have I ever had rugs outdoor except when they was being beat? And didn"t you sit down on the front porch, where I"ve never allowed you to sit, it not being modest for a young female to sit outside of her house?"
"Yes," admitted Araminta, cheerfully, "I did all those things, and I put my hair up loosely instead of tightly, as you"ve always taught me.
You forgot that."
"No, I didn"t," denied Miss Mehitable, vigorously; "I was coming to that. Didn"t you go up to Miss Evelina"s without asking me if you could, and didn"t you go bareheaded, as I"ve never allowed you to do?"
"Yes," laughed Araminta, "I did."
"After I went away," pursued Miss Mehitable, swiftly approaching her climax, "didn"t you go up to Doctor Dexter"s like a shameless hussy?"
"If it makes a shameless hussy of me to go to Doctor Dexter"s, that"s what I am."