"_How lovely!_" she cried, springing into it. "It just fits." She shook her finger at old Jonathan. "_You_ made this for me, you dear old thing!"
But Jonathan, wishing mightily that he had, had to admit that he "didn"t know a blame thing "bout it!"
"Then it was Webb. He wanted to surprise me, too, as well as Aunt Milly. Only--how did he know about my tree? Isn"t it _nice_? It"s as comfy as can be."
When Nancy joyously declared that everybody and everything was lovely, somehow B"lindy and Jonathan and Aunt Milly felt so, too! B"lindy, at Nancy"s bidding, sat down upon the gra.s.s close to the chair, and Jonathan, too rheumatic to follow her example, leaned against the tree trunk and stared at Nancy with adoring eyes.
"At first I was going to keep my nest a secret, just between Jonathan and me. But it"ll be much nicer to have all of us know about it. We can have such nice times here. We can do so many things. B"lindy, can you knit?"
B"lindy said she could not, though she could crochet.
"Then I"m going to teach you and Aunt Milly both. You can knit socks for the children in Europe, though you must begin on washcloths.
Jonathan--I don"t suppose there"s any use trying to teach you--you must keep us supplied with flowers because Aunt Milly can"t have enough--you see there are so many years she has to make up. And sometimes I"ll read to you and sometimes I"ll work. We"ll come here every afternoon--shall we?"
B"lindy and Jonathan and Aunt Milly nodded their heads. B"lindy, watching Miss Milly"s face, was beginning to think that there might be some sense in Nancy"s prescription of happiness.
And if in her heart Nancy smothered any wistful longing as she glanced at the locked treasure-box, she forgot it when she, too, watched Aunt Milly.
It was Jonathan who suddenly noticed that the sun was creeping over toward the west and that he"d "better be at the lettuce."
"Goodness to gracious," cried B"lindy, scrambling to her feet with a considerable creaking of joints. "Anne Leavitt, my day"s work ain"t half done!"
On the way back through the orchard Miss Milly kept tight hold of Nancy"s hand, giving it an occasional squeeze.
"I could die happy--now," she whispered.
At the turn of the path beyond the raspberry patch the culprits were confronted by Miss Sabrina. It was a very angry Aunt Sabrina, whose one glance shadowed every bit of sunshine. Even Nancy, the ringleader of the plot, felt her knees give way in fright.
"What are you all about?" Miss Sabrina demanded in a voice cold with anger. "Go about your work, Jonathan Allen. B"lindy, you wheel that ridiculous chair back to wherever you got it from! And you, Milly Leavitt, how _dare_ you meddle with the ways of G.o.d?"
Everyone seemed to obey Miss Sabrina without a word of protest.
Jonathan faded out of sight, B"lindy disappeared toward the kitchen with the chair and Nancy, followed by Miss Sabrina, carried the trembling Miss Milly back to her couch.
"Anne, you go out now!" Miss Sabrina jerked her head toward the door.
"I"ll have a thing or two to say to Milly. She made her bed--it"s the will of our Lord she should lie in it!"
Nancy hesitated one moment, but something in Aunt Milly"s frightened glance seemed to say, "Go away!" So she went out and closed the door upon the two sisters.
Alone in her own room a storm of anger shook her. "I _hate_ her!" she cried out to the ugly walls. "I _hate_ her! She"s--just--_stone_!"
"I"m _glad_ I"m not a real Leavitt! We were _so_ happy!"
Then, really frightened, Nancy listened intently to catch some word from the other room.
CHAPTER VII
AUNT MILLY"S STORY
When Nancy could stand the interval of quiet no longer, she went back to Miss Milly"s door. She did not even knock. So sure was she of finding a crushed and heartbroken Aunt Milly within that she stood dumbfounded before the little creature who sat bolt upright upon the couch.
"Come in, my dear--and close the door!"
Everything about Miss Milly seemed to say that "the worm has turned."
There was a glow on her face different from that it had worn out in the orchard; it seemed to come from some fire within.
"Open every blind in the room, Nancy," she commanded in a tone that was new for Aunt Milly. "I might as well get what light I can in here.
Now come and sit beside me."
For a moment Aunt Milly patted Nancy"s hand and said nothing. Then she gave a little sigh.
"I can"t _tell_ you, Nancy, I can"t even _begin_ to tell you, what you"ve done for me--taking me out there! If I never go again, I"ve had it once. And it"s sort of stiffened something inside of me!"
She fell silent again. Nancy was wishing that she could have heard what had pa.s.sed between Aunt Sabrina and Miss Milly that had left Miss Milly so defiant!
Aunt Milly seemed to read her thought.
"She was dreadfully angry and it was partly because she was frightened--really frightened. You see, Nancy, sister Sabrina thinks things must always go just so and that it"s almost wicked to try--different things. She says--I"ve made my bed!"
"What _does_ she mean, Aunt Milly?"
"It"s a long story, dear."
"I"d like to hear it, Aunt Milly."
"I suppose you ought to know--someone else may tell you, old Webb or B"lindy, or even Sabrina, though she"d rather die first! I think I used to be something like you, Nancy, or I would have been, if it hadn"t been for--the trouble!"
"Will it make you unhappy to tell it, Aunt Milly?"
"No, child. I used to lie here by the hour and think things over and over, but after awhile I got so things sort of blurred--I suppose I grew resigned and all the fight inside of me died. There never was much. You see Sabrina brought me up and she was as stern then as she is now. Our father was like that, too. My mother died when I was a baby."
"When father died Sabrina had the care of me. I suppose she tried to bring me up well; she was very strict and--never seemed to understand!
And when I was quite young I began to dream of getting away from the Islands. I wanted to go away to school somewhere and learn to do something--I did not much care what--that would keep me out in the world. Finally I decided that I wanted to study music and then, sometime, teach it. It wasn"t much to want, was it, dear? But goodness me, when I went to Sabrina with my plan she was terribly angry. You might have thought I had suggested something wicked! She simply _couldn"t_ understand! There was enough money for us both to live on and she said I was selfish and inconsiderate to want to go away. She talked a great deal about the Leavitt position and being a lady and learning contentment, and the more she talked the more restless and discontented I grew! And the more I dreamed of what waited out in the world beyond these little Islands.
"After a long while, Nancy, I made up my mind to go, anyway! It was not easy to do, because I"m not very brave, and the trouble we"d had sort of made me hate to take any step that might make a break between Sabrina and me. But I had to do it. I simply couldn"t seem to face a life here. That"s hard for you to believe, isn"t it, dear? But I _was_ a different creature, then. Well, one night I packed some clothes and slipped away. I walked to North Hero and caught the train for Burlington. I was going from there to--to New York."
Breathlessly, Nancy whispered, "What happened then?"
"The train was wrecked outside of Burlington!"
"_Oh_--Aunt Milly!"
"I was terribly hurt. I lay for weeks in a hospital in Burlington and they didn"t know whether I"d live or die! I wish----" she stopped short. "No, I don"t! I"m _glad_ I didn"t die. Then they brought me home--like this!"
"Poor, poor little Aunt Milly!"