"I never noticed how short and crooked he was," she thought, "until I saw him standing by the side of Mr. Carrollton, who is such a splendid figure, so tall and straight; but big, overgrown girls like me always get short husbands, they say;" and satisfied with this conclusion she fell asleep.
CHAPTER XIV.
MADAM CONWAY"S DISASTERS.
At a comparatively early hour Madam Conway arose, and going to the parlor found there Arthur Carrollton, who asked if Margaret were not yet up. "Say that I wish her to ride with me on horseback," said he.
"The morning air will do her good;" and, quite delighted, Madam Conway carried the message to her granddaughter.
"Tell him I shan"t do it," answered the sleepy Maggie, adjusting herself for another nap. Then, as she thought how his eyes probably looked as he said, "I wish her to ride," she felt impelled to obey, and greatly to her grandmother"s surprise she commenced dressing.
Theo"s riding dress was borrowed, and though it did not fit her exactly she looked unusually well when she met Mr. Carrollton in the lower hall, and once mounted upon the gay steed, and galloping away into the country, she felt more than repaid for the loss of her morning slumber.
"You ride well," said Mr. Carrollton, when at last they paused upon the brow of a hill overlooking the town, "but you have some faults which, with your permission, I will correct," and in the most polite and gentlemanly manner he proceeded to speak of a few points wherein her riding might be improved.
Among other things, he said she rode too fast for a lady; and, biting her lip, Maggie thought, "If I only had Gritty here, I"d lead him such a race as would either break his bones or his neck, I"m not particular which."
Still, she followed his directions implicitly, and when, ere they reached home, he told her that she excelled many who had been for years to riding schools, she felt repaid for his criticisms, which she knew were just, even if they were not agreeable. Breakfast being over, he announced his intention of going down to Boston, telling Maggie he should probably return that evening and go with her to Hillsdale on the morrow.
Scarcely had he gone when Henry Warner appeared, asking an interview with Madam Conway, who haughtily led the way into a private room. Very candidly and honorably Henry made known to her his wishes, whereupon a most stormy scene ensued, the lady so far forgetting herself as to raise her voice several notes above its usual pitch, while Henry, angered by her insulting words, bade her take the consequences of her refusal, hinting that girls had been known to marry without their guardian"s consent.
"An elopement, hey? He threatens me with an elopement, does he?" said Madam Conway, as the door closed after him. "I am glad he warned me in time," and then, trembling in every limb lest Maggie should be spirited away before her very eyes, she determined upon going home immediately and leaving Arthur Carrollton to follow in the cars.
Accordingly, Maggie was bidden to pack her things at once, the excited old lady keeping her eye constantly upon her to see that she did not disappear through the window or some other improbable place. In silence Maggie obeyed, pouting the while a very little, partly because she should not again see Henry, partly because she had confidently expected to ride home with Mr. Carrollton, and partly because she wished to stay to the firemen"s muster, which had long been talked about, and was to take place on the morrow. They were ready at last, and then in a very perturbed state of feeling Madam Conway waited for her carriage, which was not forthcoming, and upon inquiry George Douglas learned that, having counted upon another day in the city, Mike was now going through with a series of plunge-baths, by way of sobering himself ere appearing before his mistress. This, however, George kept from Madam Conway, not wishing to alarm her; and when after a time Mike appeared, sitting bolt upright upon the box, with the lines grasped firmly in his hands, she did not suspect the truth, nor know that he too was angry for being thus compelled to go home before he saw the firemen.
Thinking him sober enough to be perfectly safe, George Douglas felt no fear, and, bowing to his new relatives, went back to comfort Theo, who as a matter of course cried a little when the carriage drove away.
Worcester was left behind, and they were far out in the country ere a word was exchanged between Madam Conway and Maggie; for while the latter was pouting behind her veil, the former was wondering what possessed Mike to drive into every rut and over every stone.
"You, Mike!" she exclaimed at last, leaning from the window. "What ails you?"
"Nothing, as I"m a living man," answered Mike, halting so suddenly as to jerk the lady backwards and mash the crown of her bonnet.
Straightening herself up, and trying in vain to smooth the jam, Madam Conway continued: "In liquor, I know. I wish I had stayed home." But Mike loudly denied the charge, declaring he had spent the blessed night at a meeting of the "Sons," where they pa.s.sed around nothing stronger than lemons and water, and if the horses chose to run off the track it wasn"t his fault--he couldn"t help it; and with the air of one deeply injured he again started forward, turning off ere long into a cross road, which, as they advanced, grew more stony and rough, while the farmhouses, as a general thing, presented a far less respectable appearance than those on the Hillsdale route.
"Mike, you villain!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the lady, as they ran down into a ditch, and she sprang to one side to keep the carriage from going over.
But ere she had time for anything further, one of the axletrees snapped asunder, and to proceed further in their present condition was impossible. Alighting from the carriage, and setting her little feet upon the ground with a vengeance, Madam Conway first scolded Mike unmercifully for his carelessness, and next chided Maggie for manifesting no more concern.
"You"d as lief go to destruction as not, I do believe!" said she, looking carefully after the bandbox containing her purple satin.
"I"d rather go there first," answered Maggie, pointing to a brown old-fashioned farmhouse about a quarter of a mile away.
At first Madam Conway objected, saying she preferred sitting on the bank to intruding herself upon strangers; but as it was now noonday, and the warm September sun poured fiercely down upon her, she finally concluded to follow Maggie"s advice, and gathering up her box and parasol started for the house, which, with its tansy patch on the right, and its single poplar tree in front, presented rather an uninviting appearance.
"Some vulgar creatures live there, I know. Just hear that old tin horn!" she exclaimed, as a blast, loud and shrill, blown by practiced lips, told the men in a distant field that dinner was ready.
A nearer approach disclosed to view a slanting-roofed farmhouse such as is often found in New England, with high, narrow windows, small panes of gla.s.s, and the most indispensable paper curtains of blue closely shading the windows of what was probably the "best room." In the apartment opposite, however, they were rolled up, so as to show the old-fashioned drapery of dimity, bordered with a netted fringe.
Half a dozen broken pitchers and pots held geraniums, verbenas, and other plants, while the well-kept beds of hollyhocks, sunflowers, and poppies indicated a taste for flowers in someone. Everything about the house was faultlessly neat. The doorsill was scrubbed to a chalky white, while the uncovered floor wore the same polished hue.
All this Madam Conway saw at a glance, but it did not prevent her from holding high her aristocratic skirts, lest they should be contaminated, and when, in answer to her knock, an odd-looking, peculiarly dressed woman appeared, she uttered an exclamation of disgust, and, turning to Maggie, said, "You talk--I can"t!"
But the woman did not stand at all upon ceremony. For the last ten minutes she had been watching the strangers as they toiled over the sandy road, and when sure they were coming there had retreated into her bedroom, donning a flaming red calico, which, guiltless of hoops, clung to her tenaciously, showing her form to good advantage, and rousing at once the risibility of Maggie. A black lace cap, ornamented with ribbons of the same fanciful color as the dress, adorned her head; and, with a dozen or more pins in her mouth, she now appeared, hooking her sleeve and smoothing down the black collar upon her neck.
In a few words Maggie explained to her their misfortune, and asked permission to tarry there until the carriage was repaired.
"Certing, certing," answered the woman, courtesying almost to the floor. "Walk right in, if you can git in. It"s my cheese day, or I should have been cleared away sooner. Here, Betsy Jane, you have prinked long enough; come and hist the winders in t"other room, and wing "em off, so the ladies can set in there out of this dirty place;"
then turning to Madam Conway, who was industriously freeing her French kids from the sand they had acc.u.mulated during her walk, she continued, "Have some of my shoes to rest your feet a spell"; and diving into a recess or closet she brought forth a pair of slippers large enough to hold both of Madam Conway"s feet at once.
With a haughty frown the lady declined the offer, while Maggie looked on in delight, pleased with an adventure which promised so much fun.
After a moment Betsy Jane appeared, attired in a dress similar to that of her mother, for whose lank appearance she made ample amends, in the wonderful expansion of her robes, which, minus gather or fold at the bottom, set out like a miniature tent, upsetting at once the bandbox, which Madam Conway had placed upon a chair, and which, with its contents, rolled promiscuously over the floor!
"Betsy Jane! How can you wear them abominable things!" exclaimed the distressed woman, stooping to pick up the purple satin which had tumbled out.
A look from the more fashionable daughter, as with a swinging sweep she pa.s.sed on into the parlor, silenced the mother on the subject of hoops, and thinking her guests must necessarily be thirsty after their walk she brought them a pitcher of water, asking if they"d "chuse it clear, or with a little ginger and mola.s.ses," at the same time calling to Betsy Jane to know if them windows was "wung" off!
The answer was in the affirmative, whereupon the ladies were invited to enter, which they did the more willingly as through the open door they had caught glimpses of what proved to be a very handsome Brussels carpet, which in that room seemed a little out of place, as did the sofa, and handsome haircloth rocking-chair. In this last Madam Conway seated herself, while Maggie reclined upon a lounge, wondering at the difference in the various articles of furniture, some of which were quite expensive, while others were of the most common kind.
"Who can they be? She looks like someone I have seen," said Maggie as Betsy Jane left the room. "I mean to ask their names;" but this her grandmother would not suffer. "It was too much like familiarity," she said, "and she did not believe in putting one"s self on a level with such people."
Another loud blast from the horn was blown, for the bustling woman of the house was evidently getting uneasy, and ere long three or four men appeared, washing themselves from the spout of the pump, and wiping upon a coa.r.s.e towel which hung upon a roller near the back door.
"I shan"t eat at the same table with those creatures," said Madam Conway, feeling intuitively that she would be invited to dinner.
"Why, grandma, yes you will, if she asks you," answered Maggie. "Only think how kind they are to us--perfect strangers!"
What else she might have said was prevented by the entrance of Betsy Jane, who informed them that dinner was ready, and with a mental groan, as she thought how she was about to be martyred, Madam Conway followed her to the dining room, where a plain, substantial farmer"s meal was spread. Standing at the head of the table, with her good-humored face all in a glow, was the hostess, who, pointing Madam Conway to? chair, said: "Now set right by, and make yourselves to hum.
Mebby I or to have set the table over, and I guess I should if I had anything fit to eat. Be you fond of biled victuals?" and taking it for granted they were, she loaded both Madam Conway"s and Maggie"s plate with every variety of vegetables used in the preparation of the dish known everywhere as "boiled victuals."
By this time the men had ranged themselves in respectful silence upon the opposite side of the table, each stealing an admiring though modest glance at Maggie; for the masculine heart, whether it beats beneath a homespun frock or coat of finest cloth, is alike susceptible to glowing, youthful beauty like that of Maggie Miller. The head of the house was absent--"had gone to town with a load of wood," so his spouse informed the ladies, at the same time pouring out a cup of tea, which she said she had tried to make strong enough to bear up an egg.
"Betsy Jane," she continued, casting a deprecating glance, first at the blue sugar bowl and then at her daughter, "what possessed you to put on this brown sugar, when I told you to get crush? Have some of the apple sa.s.s? It"s new--made this morning. Dew have some," she continued, as Madam Conway shook her head. "Mebby it"s better than it looks. Seem"s ef you wan"t goin" to eat nothin". Betsy Jane, now you"re up after the crush, fetch them china sa.s.sers for the cowc.u.mbers. Like enough she"ll eat some of them."
But, affecting a headache, Madam Conway declined everything save the green tea and a Boston cracker, which, at the first mention of headache, the distressed woman had brought her. Suddenly remembering Mike, who, having fixed the carriage, was fast asleep on a wheelbarrow under the woodshed, she exclaimed: "For the land of ma.s.sy, if I hain"t forgot that young gentleman! Go, William, and call him this minute.
Are you sick at your stomach?" she asked, turning to Madam Conway, who at the thought of eating with her drunken coachman had uttered an exclamation of disgust. "Go, Betsy Jane, and fetch the camphire, quick!"
But Madam Conway did not need the camphor, and so she said, adding that Mike was better where he was. Mike thought so too, and refused to come, whereupon the woman insisted that he must. "There was room enough," she said, "and no kind of sense in Betsy Jane"s taking up the hull side of the table with them rattans. She could set nearer the young lady."
"Certainly," answered Maggie, anxious to see how the "rattans" would manage to squeeze in between herself and the table-leg, as they would have to do if they came an inch nearer.
This feat could not be done, and in attempting it Betsy Jane upset Maggie"s tea upon her handsome traveling dress, eliciting from her mother the exclamation, "Betsy Jane Douglas, you allus was the blunderin"est girl!"
This little accident diverted the woman"s mind from Mike, while Madam Conway, starting at the name of Douglas, thought to herself: "Douglas!--Douglas! I did not suppose "twas so common a name. But then it don"t hurt George any, having these creatures bear his name."
Dinner being over, Madam Conway and Maggie returned to the parlor, where, while the former resumed her chair, the latter amused herself by examining the books and odd-looking daguerreotypes which lay upon the table.
"Oh, grandmother!" she almost screamed, bounding to that lady"s side, "as I live, here"s a picture of Theo and George Douglas taken together," and she held up a handsome casing before the astonished old lady, who, donning her golden spectacles in a twinkling, saw for herself that what Maggie said was true.
"They stole it!" she gasped. "We are in a den of thieves! Who knows what they"ll take from my bandbox?" and she was about to leave the room when Maggie, whose quick mind saw farther ahead, bade her stop.