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+Project Gutenberg's Queen Hildegarde, by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Queen Hildegarde
+
+Author: Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards
+
+Release Date: August 8, 2005 [EBook #16473]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK QUEEN HILDEGARDE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+QUEEN HILDEGARDE
+
+BOOKS BY LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Each 1 volume, cloth decorative, illustrated, $1.75
+
+     Star Bright
+     Captain January
+
+The above volumes boxed as a set, $3.50
+
+
+STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS
+
+Each, one volume, cloth decorative, illustrated
+
+     Five Minute Stories          $1.75
+     More Five Minute Stories      1.75
+     Three Minute Stories          1.75
+     A Happy Little Time           1.75
+     Four Feet, Two Feet, No Feet  2.75
+     When I Was Your Age           1.75
+
+
+THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES
+
+     Captain January  $1.00
+     Melody            1.00
+
+Each, one volume, illustrated, 90 cents
+
+     Jim of Hellas
+     Marie
+     Rosin the Beau
+     Snow-white
+     Narcissa
+     "Some Day"
+     Nautilus
+     Isla Heron
+     The Little Master
+
+     Captain January--_Baby Peggy Edition_   $2.50
+
+
+HILDEGARDE-MARGARET SERIES
+
+Each, one volume, illustrated, $1.75
+
+     Queen Hildegarde
+     Hildegarde's Holiday
+     Hildegarde's Home
+     Hildegarde's Neighbors
+     Hildegarde's Harvest
+     Three Margarets
+     Margaret Montfort
+     Peggy
+     Rita
+     Fernley House
+     The Merryweathers
+
+The above eleven volumes are also boxed as a set, $19.25
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+     Honor Bright                  $1.75
+     Honor Bright's New Adventure   1.75
+     The Armstrongs                 1.50
+     The Green Satin Gown           1.50
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+             L.C. PAGE & COMPANY (Inc.)
+     53 Beacon Street            Boston, Mass.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE GLANCED INTO THE LONG CHEVAL-GLASS."]
+
+
+
+
+_THE HILDEGARDE SERIES_
+
+Queen Hildegarde
+
+A STORY FOR GIRLS
+
+BY
+
+LAURA E. RICHARDS
+
+Author of
+
+"The Margaret Series," "The Hildegarde Series," "Captain January,"
+"Melody," "Five Minute Stories," etc.
+
+_ILLUSTRATED_
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE PAGE COMPANY BOSTON . PUBLISHERS
+
+     _Copyright, 1889, by_
+     THE PAGE COMPANY
+     Copyright renewed, 1917
+
+     Made in U.S.A.
+
+     Thirty-second Impression, August, 1927
+
+     THE COLONIAL PRESS
+     C.H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+     TO
+
+     MY BELOVED SISTER,
+
+     =Maud Howe Elliott.=
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+CHAPTER                  PAGE
+
+   I. HILDEGARDIS GRAHAM            9
+
+  II. DAME AND FARMER              31
+
+ III. THE PRISONER OF DESPAIR      49
+
+  IV. THE NEW HILDA                73
+
+   V. THE BLUE PLATTER             94
+
+  VI. HARTLEY'S GLEN              111
+
+ VII. PINK CHIRK                  135
+
+VIII. THE LETTER                  160
+
+  IX. THE OLD CAPTAIN             178
+
+   X. A PARTY OF PLEASURE         198
+
+  XI. THE WARRIOR QUEEN           218
+
+ XII. THE OLD MILL                237
+
+XIII. THE TREE-PARTY              272
+
+      THE LAST WORD               289
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
+
+
+                                                            PAGE
+
+"SHE GLANCED INTO THE LONG CHEVAL-GLASS"
+      (_See page 32_)                            _Frontispiece_
+
+"SHE PUSHED THE BUSHES ASIDE AND CAME TOWARDS HIM"        47
+
+"SHE BENT IN REAL DISTRESS OVER THE CURRANTS"             89
+
+"SHE FLUNG THE CORN IN GOLDEN SHOWERS ON THEIR HEADS"    117
+
+"THE PALE GIRL MADE NO ATTEMPT TO RISE"                  155
+
+"'SAY, MISS HILDY,--DO YOU LIKE PURPS?'"                 205
+
+"EACH TOOK A SKIMMER AND SET EARNESTLY TO WORK"          227
+
+"'TAKE IT AND OPEN IT!'"                                 267
+
+
+
+
+QUEEN HILDEGARDE.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+HILDEGARDIS GRAHAM.
+
+
+"And have you decided what is to become of Hilda?" asked Mrs. Graham.
+
+"Hilda?" replied her husband, in a tone of surprise, "Hilda? why, she
+will go with us, of course. What else should become of the child? She
+will enjoy the trip immensely, I have no doubt."
+
+Mrs. Graham sighed and shook her head. "I fear that is impossible, dear
+George!" she said. "To tell the truth, I am a little anxious about
+Hilda; she is not at all well. I don't mean that she is actually _ill_,"
+she added quickly, as Mr. Graham looked up in alarm, "but she seems
+languid and dispirited, has no appetite, and is inclined to be
+fretful,--an unusual thing for her."
+
+"Needs a change!" said Mr. Graham, shortly. "Best thing for her. Been
+studying too hard, I suppose, and eating caramels. If I could discover
+the man who invented that pernicious sweetmeat, I would have him
+hanged!--hanged, madam!"
+
+"Oh, no, you wouldn't, dear!" said his wife, laughing softly; "I think
+his life would be quite safe. But about Hilda now! She _does_ need a
+change, certainly; but is the overland journey in July just the right
+kind of change for her, do you think?"
+
+Mr. Graham frowned, ran his fingers through his hair, drummed on the
+table, and then considered his boots attentively. "Well--no!" he said at
+last, reluctantly. "I--suppose--not. But what _can_ we do with her? Send
+her to Fred and Mary at the seashore?"
+
+"To sleep in a room seven by twelve, and be devoured by mosquitoes, and
+have to wear 'good clothes' all the time?" returned Mrs. Graham.
+"Certainly not."
+
+"Aunt Emily is going to the mountains," suggested Mr. Graham,
+doubtfully.
+
+"Yes," replied his wife, "with sixteen trunks, a maid, a footman, and
+three lapdogs! _That_ would _never_ do for Hilda."
+
+"You surely are not thinking of leaving her alone here with the
+servants?"
+
+The lady shook her head. "No, dear; such poor wits as Heaven granted me
+are not yet entirely gone, thank you!"
+
+Mr. Graham rose from his chair and flung out both arms in a manner
+peculiar to him when excited. "Now, now, now, Mildred!" he said
+impressively, "I have always said that you were a good woman, and I
+shall continue to assert the same; but you have powers of tormenting
+that could not be surpassed by the most heartless of your sex. It is
+perfectly clear, even to my darkened mind, that you have some plan for
+Hilda fully matured and arranged in that scheming little head of yours;
+so what is your object in keeping me longer in suspense? Out with it,
+now! What are you--for of course I am in reality only a cipher (a
+tolerably large cipher) in the sum--what are you, the commander-in-chief,
+going to do with Hilda, the lieutenant-general? If you will kindly
+inform the orderly-sergeant, he will act accordingly, and endeavor to
+do his duty."
+
+Pretty Mrs. Graham laughed again, and looked up at the six-feet-two of
+sturdy manhood standing on the hearth-rug, gazing at her with eyes which
+twinkled merrily under the fiercely frowning brows. "You are a very
+_dis_orderly-sergeant, dear!" she said. "Just look at your hair! It
+looks as if all the four winds had been blowing through it--"
+
+"Instead of all the ten fingers _going_ through it," interrupted her
+husband. "Never mind my hair; that is not the point.
+_What_--do--you--propose--to--do--with--your daughter--Hildegarde, or
+Hildegardis, as it should properly be written?"
+
+"Well, dear George," said the commander-in-chief (she was a very small
+woman and a very pretty one, though she had a daughter "older than
+herself," as her husband said; and she wore a soft lilac gown, and had
+soft, wavy brown hair, and was altogether very pleasant to look
+at)--"well, dear George, the truth is, I _have_ a little plan, which I
+should like very much to carry out, if you fully approve of it."
+
+"Ha!" said Mr. Graham, tossing his "tempestuous locks" again, "ho! I
+thought as much. _If_ I approve, eh, little madam? Better say, whether I
+approve or not."
+
+So saying, the good-natured giant sat himself down again, and listened
+while his wife unfolded her plan; and what the plan was, we shall see by
+and by. Meanwhile let us take a peep at Hilda, or Hildegardis, as she
+sits in her own room, all unconscious of the plot which is hatching in
+the parlor below. She is a tall girl of fifteen. Probably she has
+attained her full height, for she looks as if she had been growing too
+fast; her form is slender, her face pale, with a weary look in the large
+gray eyes. It is a delicate, high-bred face, with a pretty nose,
+slightly "tip-tilted," and a beautiful mouth; but it is half-spoiled by
+the expression, which is discontented, if not actually peevish. If we
+lifted the light curling locks of fair hair which lie on her forehead,
+we should see a very decided frown on a broad white space which ought to
+be absolutely smooth. Why should a girl of fifteen frown, especially a
+girl so "exceptionally fortunate" as all her friends considered Hilda
+Graham? Certainly her surroundings at this moment are pretty enough to
+satisfy any girl. The room is not large, but it has a sunny bay-window
+which seems to increase its size twofold. In re-furnishing it a year
+before, her father had in mind Hilda's favorite flower, the
+forget-me-not, and the room is simply a bower of forget-me-nots.
+Scattered over the dull olive ground of the carpet, clustering and
+nodding from the wall-paper, peeping from the folds of the curtains, the
+forget-me-nots are everywhere. Even the creamy surface of the toilet-jug
+and bowl, even the ivory backs of the brushes that lie on the
+blue-covered toilet table, bear each its cluster of pale-blue blossoms;
+while the low easy-chair in which the girl is reclining, and the pretty
+sofa with its plump cushions inviting to repose, repeat the same tale.
+The tale is again repeated, though in a different way, by a scroll
+running round the top of the wall, on which in letters of blue and gold
+is written at intervals: "Ne m'oubliez pas!" "Vergiss mein nicht!" "Non
+ti scordar!" and the same sentiment is repeated in Spanish, Latin,
+Greek, and Hebrew, of all which tongues the fond father possessed
+knowledge.
+
+Is not this indeed a bower, wherein a girl ought to be happy? the bird
+in the window thinks his blue and gold cage the finest house in the
+world, and sings as heartily and cheerily as if he had been in the wide
+green forest; but his mistress does not sing. She sits in the
+easy-chair, with a book upside-down in her lap, and frowns,--actually
+frowns, in a forget-me-not bower! There is not much the matter, really.
+Her head aches, that is all. Her German lesson has been longer and
+harder than usual, and her father was quite right about the caramels;
+there is a box of them on the table now, within easy reach of the slim
+white hand with its forget-me-not ring of blue turquoises. (I do not
+altogether agree with Mr. Graham about hanging the caramel-maker, but I
+should heartily like to burn all his wares. Fancy a great mountain of
+caramels and chocolate-creams and marrons glaces piled up in Union
+Square, for example, and blazing away merrily,--that is, if the things
+would burn, which is more than doubtful. How the maidens would weep and
+wring their hands while the heartless parents chuckled and fed the
+flames with all the precious treasures of Maillard and Huyler! Ah! it is
+a pleasant thought, for I who write this am a heartless parent, do you
+see?)
+
+As I said before, Hilda had no suspicion of the plot which her parents
+were concocting. She knew that her father was obliged to go to San
+Francisco, being called suddenly to administer the estate of a cousin
+who had recently died there, and that her mother and--as she
+supposed--herself were going with him to offer sympathy and help to the
+widow, an invalid with three little children. As to the idea of her
+being left behind; of her father's starting off on a long journey
+without his lieutenant-general; of her mother's parting from her only
+child, whom she had watched with tender care and anxiety since the day
+of her birth,--such a thought never came into Hilda's mind. Wherever her
+parents went she went, as a matter of course. So it had always been, and
+so without doubt it always would be. She did not care specially about
+going to California at this season of the year,--in fact she had told
+her bosom friend, Madge Everton, only the day before, that it was
+"rather a bore," and that she should have preferred to go to Newport.
+"But what would you?" she added, with the slightest shrug of her pretty
+shoulders. "Papa and mamma really must go, it appears; so of course I
+must go too."
+
+"A bore!" repeated Madge energetically, replying to the first part of
+her friend's remarks. "Hilda, what a _very_ singular girl you are! Here
+I, or Nelly, or _any_ of the other girls would give both our ears, and
+our front teeth too, to make such a trip; and just because you _can_ go,
+you sit there and call it 'a bore!'" And Madge shook her black curls,
+and opened wide eyes of indignation and wonder at our ungrateful
+heroine. "I only wish," she added, "that you and I could be changed into
+each other, just for this summer."
+
+"I wish--" began Hilda; but she checked herself in her response to the
+wish, as the thought of Madge's five brothers rose in her mind (Hilda
+could not endure boys!), looked attentively at the toe of her little
+bronze slipper for a few moments, and then changed the subject by
+proposing a walk. "Console yourself with the caramels, my fiery Madge,"
+she said, pushing the box across the table, "while I put on my boots. We
+will go to Maillard's and get some more while we are out. His caramels
+are decidedly better than Huyler's; don't you think so!"
+
+A very busy woman was pretty Mrs. Graham during the next two weeks.
+First she made an expedition into the country "to see an old friend,"
+she said, and was gone two whole days. And after that she was out every
+morning, driving hither and thither, from shop to dressmaker, from
+dressmaker to milliner, from milliner to shoemaker.
+
+"It is a sad thing," Mr. Graham would say, when his wife fluttered in
+to lunch, breathless and exhausted and half an hour late (she, the most
+punctual of women!),--"it is a sad thing to have married a comet by
+mistake, thinking it was a woman. How did you find the other planets
+this morning, my dear? Is it true that Saturn has lost one of his rings?
+and has the Sun recovered from his last attack of spots? I really fear,"
+he would add, turning to Hilda, "that this preternatural activity in
+your comet-parent portends some alarming change in the--a--atmospheric
+phenomena, my child. I would have you on your guard!" and then he would
+look at her and sigh, shake his head, and apply himself to the cold
+chicken with melancholy vigor.
+
+Hilda thought nothing of her father's remarks,--papa was always talking
+nonsense, and she thought she always understood him perfectly. It did
+occur to her, however, to wonder at her mother's leaving her out on all
+her shopping expeditions. Hilda rather prided herself on her skill in
+matching shades and selecting fabrics, and mamma was generally glad of
+her assistance in all such matters. However, perhaps it was only
+under-clothing and house-linen, and such things that she was buying. All
+that was the prosy part of shopping. It was the poetry of it that Hilda
+loved,--the shimmer of silk and satin, the rich shadows in velvet, the
+cool, airy fluttering of lawn and muslin and lace. So the girl went on
+her usual way, finding life a little dull, a little tiresome, and most
+people rather stupid, but everything on the whole much as usual, if her
+head only would not ache so; and it was without a shadow of suspicion
+that she obeyed one morning her mother's summons to come and see her in
+her dressing-room.
+
+Mr. Graham always spoke of his wife's dressing-room as "the citadel." It
+was absolutely impregnable, he said. In the open field of the
+drawing-room or the broken country of the dining-room it might be
+possible--he had never known such a thing to occur, but still it _might_
+be possible--for the commander-in-chief to sustain a defeat; but once
+intrenched behind the walls of the citadel, horse, foot, and dragoons
+might storm and charge upon her, but they could not gain an inch. Not an
+inch, sir! True it was that Mrs. Graham always felt strongest in this
+particular room. She laughed about it, but acknowledged the fact. Here,
+on the wall, hung a certain picture which was always an inspiration to
+her. Here, on the shelf above her desk, were the books of her heart, the
+few tried friends to whom she turned for help and counsel when things
+puzzled her. (Mrs. Graham was never disheartened. She didn't believe
+there was such a word. She was only "puzzled" sometimes, until she saw
+her way and her duty clear before her, and then she went straight
+forward, over a mountain or through a stone wall, as the case might
+be.) Here, in the drawer of her little work-table, were some relics,--a
+tiny, half-worn shoe, a little doll, a sweet baby face laughing from an
+ivory frame: the insignia of her rank in the great order of sorrowing
+mothers; and these, perhaps, gave her that great sympathy and tenderness
+for all who were in trouble which drew all sad hearts towards her.
+
+And so, on this occasion, the little woman had sat for a few moments
+looking at the pictured face on the wall, with its mingled majesty and
+sweetness; had peeped into the best-beloved of all books, and said a
+little prayer, as was her wont when "puzzled," before she sent the
+message to Hilda,--for she knew that she must sorely hurt and grieve the
+child who was half the world to her; and though she did not flinch from
+the task, she longed for strength and wisdom to do it in the kindest and
+wisest way.
+
+"Hilda, dear," she said gently, when they were seated together on the
+sofa, hand in hand, with each an arm round the other's waist, as they
+loved best to sit,--"Hilda, dear, I have something to say that will not
+please you; something that may even grieve you very much at first." She
+paused, and Hilda rapidly reviewed in her mind all the possibilities
+that she could think of. Had anything happened to the box of French
+dresses which was on its way from Paris? Had a careless servant broken
+the glass of her fernery again? Had Aunt Emily been saying disagreeable
+things about her, as she was apt to do? She was about to speak, but at
+that moment, like a thunderbolt, the next words struck her ear: "We have
+decided not to take you with us to California." Amazed, wounded,
+indignant, Hilda could only lift her great gray eyes to meet the soft
+violet ones which, full of unshed tears, were fixed tenderly upon her.
+Mrs. Graham continued: "Your father and I both feel, my darling, that
+this long, fatiguing journey, in the full heat of summer, would be the
+worst possible thing for you. You have not been very well lately, and it
+is most important that you should lead a quiet, regular, healthy life
+for the next few months. We have therefore made arrangements to leave
+you--"
+
+But here Hilda could control herself no longer. "Mamma! mamma!" she
+cried. "How can you be so unkind, so cruel? Leave me--you and papa both?
+Why, I shall die! Of course I shall die, all alone in this great house.
+I thought you loved me!" and she burst into tears, half of anger, half
+of grief, and sobbed bitterly.
+
+"Dear child!" said Mrs. Graham, smoothing the fair hair lovingly, "if
+you had heard me out, you would have seen that we had no idea of leaving
+you alone, or of leaving you in this house either. You are to stay
+with--"
+
+"Not with Aunt Emily!" cried the girl, springing to her feet with
+flashing eyes. "Mamma, I would rather beg in the streets than stay with
+Aunt Emily. She is a detestable, ill-natured, selfish woman."
+
+"Hildegarde," said Mrs. Graham gravely, "be silent!" There was a moment
+of absolute stillness, broken only by the ticking of the little crystal
+clock on the mantelpiece, and then Mrs. Graham continued: "I must ask
+you not to speak again, my daughter, until I have finished what I have
+to say; and even then, I trust you will keep silence until you are able
+to command yourself. You are to stay with my old nurse, Mrs. Hartley, at
+her farm near Glenfield. She is a very kind, good woman, and will take
+the best possible care of you. I went to the farm myself last week, and
+found it a lovely place, with every comfort, though no luxuries, save
+the great one of a free, healthy, natural life. There, my Hilda, we
+shall leave you, sadly indeed, and yet feeling that you are in good and
+loving hands. And I feel very sure," she added in a lighter tone, "that
+by the time we return, you will be a rosy-cheeked country lass, strong
+and hearty, with no more thought of headaches, and no wrinkle in your
+forehead." As she ceased speaking, Mrs. Graham drew the girl close to
+her, and kissed the white brow tenderly, murmuring: "God bless my
+darling daughter! If she knew how her mother's heart aches at parting
+with her!" But Hilda did not know. She was too angry, too bewildered,
+too deeply hurt, to think of any one except herself. She felt that she
+could not trust herself to speak, and it was in silence, and without
+returning her mother's caress, that she rose and sought her own room.
+
+Mrs. Graham looked after her wistfully, tenderly, but made no effort to
+call her back. The tears trembled in her soft blue eyes, and her lip
+quivered as she turned to her work-table; but she said quietly to
+herself: "Solitude is a good medicine. The child will do well, and I
+know that I have chosen wisely for her."
+
+Bitter tears did Hildegarde shed as she flung herself face downward on
+her own blue sofa. Angry thoughts surged through her brain. Now she
+burned with resentment at the parents who could desert her,--their only
+child; now she melted into pity for herself, and wept more and more as
+she pictured the misery that lay before her. To be left
+alone--_alone!_--on a squalid, wretched farm, with a dirty old woman, a
+woman who had been a servant,--she, Hildegardis Graham, the idol of her
+parents, the queen of her "set" among the young people, the proudest and
+most exclusive girl in New York, as she had once (and not with
+displeasure) heard herself called!
+
+What would Madge Everton, what would all the girls say! How they would
+laugh, to hear of Hilda Graham living on a farm among pigs and hens and
+dirty people! Oh! it was intolerable; and she sprang up and paced the
+floor, with burning cheeks and flashing eyes.
+
+The thought of opposing the plan did not occur to her. Mrs. Graham's
+rule, gentle though it was, was not of the flabby, nor yet of the
+elastic sort. Her decisions were not hastily arrived at; but once made,
+they were final and abiding. "You might just as well try to oppose the
+Gulf Stream!" Mr. Graham would say. "They do it sometimes with icebergs,
+and what is the result? In a few days the great clumsy things are bowing
+and scraping and turning somersaults, and fairly jostling each other in
+their eagerness to obey the guidance of the insidious current. Insidious
+Current, will you allow a cup of coffee to drift in my direction? I
+shall be only too happy to turn a somersault if it will afford
+you--thanks!--the smallest gratification."
+
+So Hildegarde's first lessons had been in obedience and in truthfulness;
+and these were fairly well learned before she began her ABC. And so she
+knew now, that she might storm and weep as she would in her own room,
+but that the decree was fixed, and that unless the skies fell, her
+summer would be passed at Hartley's Glen.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+DAME AND FARMER.
+
+
+When the first shock was over, Hilda was rather glad than otherwise to
+learn that there was to be no delay in carrying out the odious plan.
+"The sooner the better," she said to herself. "I certainly don't want to
+see any of the girls again, and the first plunge will be the worst of
+it."
+
+"What clothes am I to take?" she asked her mother, in a tone which she
+mentally denominated "quiet and cold," though possibly some people might
+have called it "sullen."
+
+"Your clothes are already packed, dear," replied Mrs. Graham; "you have
+only to pack your dressing-bag, to be all ready for the start to-morrow.
+See, here is your trunk, locked and strapped, and waiting for the
+porter's shoulder;" and she showed Hilda a stout, substantial-looking
+trunk, bearing the initials H.G.
+
+"But, mamma," Hilda began, wondering greatly, "my dresses are all
+hanging in my wardrobe."
+
+"Not all of them, dear!" said her mother, smiling. "Hark! papa is
+calling you. Make haste and go down, for dinner is ready."
+
+Wondering more and more, Hildegarde made a hasty toilet, putting on the
+pretty pale blue cashmere dress which her father specially liked, with
+silk stockings to match, and dainty slippers of bronze kid. As she
+clasped the necklace of delicate blue and silver Venetian beads which
+completed the costume, she glanced into the long cheval-glass which
+stood between the windows, and could not help giving a little approving
+nod to her reflection. Though not a great beauty, Hildegarde was
+certainly a remarkably pretty and even distinguished-looking girl; and
+"being neither blind nor a fool," she soliloquized, "where is the harm
+in acknowledging it?" But the next moment the thought came: "What
+difference will it make, in a stupid farm-house, whether I am pretty or
+not? I might as well be a Hottentot!" and with the "quiet and cold" look
+darkening over her face, she went slowly down stairs.
+
+Her father met her with a kiss and clasp of the hand even warmer than
+usual.
+
+"Well, General!" he said, in a voice which insisted upon being cheery,
+"marching orders, eh? Marching orders! Break up camp! boot, saddle, to
+horse and away! Forces to march in different directions, by order of the
+commander-in-chief." But the next moment he added, in an altered tone:
+"My girl, mamma knows best; remember that! She is right in this move, as
+she generally is. Cheer up, darling, and let us make the last evening a
+happy one!"
+
+Hilda tried to smile, for who _could_ be angry with papa? She made a
+little effort, and the father and mother made a great one,--_how_ great
+she could not know; and so the evening passed, better than might have
+been expected.
+
+The evening passed, and the night, and the next day came; and it was
+like waking from a strange dream when Hilda found herself in a railway
+train, with her father sitting beside her, and her mother's farewell
+kiss yet warm on her cheek, speeding over the open country, away from
+home and all that she held most dear. Her dressing-bag, with her
+umbrella neatly strapped to it, was in the rack overhead, the check for
+her trunk in her pocket. Could it all be true? She tried to listen while
+her father told her of the happy days he had spent on his grandfather's
+farm when he was a boy; but the interest was not real, and she found it
+hard to fix her mind on what he was saying. What did she care about
+swinging on gates, or climbing apple-trees, or riding unruly colts! She
+was not a boy, nor even a tomboy. When he spoke of the delights of
+walking in the country through woodland and meadow, her thoughts strayed
+to Fifth Avenue, with its throng of well-dressed people, the glittering
+equipages rolling by, the stately houses on either side, through whose
+shining windows one caught glimpses of the splendors within; and to the
+Park, with its shady alleys and well-kept lawns. Could there be any
+walking so delightful as that which these afforded? Surely not! Ah!
+Madge and Helen were probably just starting for their walk now. Did they
+know of her banishment? would they laugh at the thought of Queen
+Hildegardis vegetating for three months at a wretched--
+
+"Glenfield!" The brakeman's voice rang clear and sharp through the car.
+Hilda started, and seized her father's hand convulsively.
+
+"Papa!" she whispered, "O papa! don't leave me here; take me home! I
+cannot bear it!"
+
+"Come, my child!" said Mr. Graham, speaking low, and with an odd catch
+in his voice; "that is not the way to go into action. Remember, this is
+your first battle. So, eyes front! charge bayonets! quick step! forward,
+_march_!"
+
+The train had stopped. They were on the platform. Mr. Graham led Hilda
+up to a stout, motherly-looking woman, who held out her hand with a
+beaming smile.
+
+"Here is my daughter, Mrs. Hartley!" he said, hastily. "You will take
+good care of her, I know. My darling, good-by! I go on to Dashford, and
+home by return train in an hour. God bless you, my Hilda! Courage! Up,
+Guards, and at them! Remember Waterloo!" and he was gone. The engine
+shrieked an unearthly "Good-by!" and the train rumbled away, leaving
+Hilda gazing after it through a mist which only her strong will
+prevented from dissolving in tears.
+
+"Well, my dear," said Dame Hartley's cheery voice, "your papa's gone,
+and you must not stand here and fret after him. Here is old Nancy
+shaking her head, and wondering why she does not get home to her dinner.
+Do you get into the cart, and I will get the station-master to put your
+trunk in for us."
+
+Hilda obeyed in silence; and climbing into the neat wagon, took her seat
+and looked about her while Dame Hartley bustled off in search of the
+station-master. There was not very much to look at at Glenfield station.
+The low wooden building with its long platform stood on a bare spot of
+ground, from which the trees all stood back, as if to mark their
+disapproval of the railway and all that belonged to it. The sandy soil
+made little attempt to produce vegetation, but put out little humps of
+rock occasionally, to show what it could do. Behind, a road led off into
+the woods, hiding itself behind the low-hanging branches of chestnut and
+maple, ash and linden trees. That was all. Now that the train was gone,
+the silence was unbroken save by the impatient movements of the old
+white mare as she shook the flies off and rattled the jingling harness.
+
+Hilda was too weary to think. She had slept little the night before, and
+the suddenness of the recent changes confused her mind and made her feel
+as if she were some one else, and not herself at all. She sat patiently,
+counting half-unconsciously each quiver of Nancy's ears. But now Dame
+Hartley came bustling back with the station-master, and between the two,
+Hilda's trunk was hoisted into the cart. Then the good woman climbed in
+over the wheel, settled her ample person on the seat and gathered up the
+reins, while the station-master stood smoothing the mare's mane, ready
+for a parting word of friendly gossip.
+
+"Jacob pooty smart!" he asked, brushing a fly from Nancy's shoulder.
+
+"Only middling," was the reply. "He had a touch o' rheumatiz, that last
+spell of wet weather, and it seems to hang on, kind of. Ketches him in
+the joints and the small of his back if he rises up suddin."
+
+"I know! I know!" replied the station-master, with eager interest. "Jest
+like my spells ketches me; on'y I have it powerful bad acrost my
+shoulders, too. I been kerryin' a potato in my pocket f'r over and above
+a week now, and I'm in hopes 't'll cure me."
+
+"A potato in your pocket!" exclaimed Dame Hartley. "Reuel Slocum! what
+_do_ you mean?"
+
+"Sounds curus, don't it?" returned Mr. Slocum. "But it's a fact that
+it's a great cure for rheumatiz. A grea-at cure! Why, there's Barzillay
+Smith, over to Peat's Corner, has kerried a potato in his pocket for
+five years,--not the same potato, y' know; changes 'em when they begin
+to sprout,--and he hesn't hed a touch o' rheumatism all that time. Not a
+touch! tol' me so himself."
+
+"Had he ever hed it before?" asked Dame Hartley.
+
+"I d'no as he hed," said Mr. Slocum, "But his father hed; an' his
+granf'ther before him. So ye see--"
+
+But here Hilda uttered a long sigh of weariness and impatience; and Dame
+Hartley, with a penitent glance at her, bade good-morning to the victim
+of rheumatism, gave old Nancy a smart slap with the reins, and drove off
+down the wood-road.
+
+"My dear child," she said to Hilda as they jogged along, "I ought not to
+have kept you waiting so long, and you tired with your ride in the cars.
+But Reuel Slocum lives all alone here, and he does enjoy a little chat
+with an old neighbor more than most folks; so I hope you'll excuse me."
+
+"It is of no consequence, thank you," murmured Hildegarde, with cold
+civility. She did not like to be called "my dear child," to begin with;
+and besides, she was very weary and heartsick, and altogether miserable.
+But she tried to listen, as the good woman continued to talk in a
+cheery, comfortable tone, telling her how fond she had always been of
+"Miss Mildred," as she called Mrs. Graham, and how she had the care of
+her till she was almost a woman grown, and never would have left her
+then if Jacob Hartley hadn't got out of patience.
+
+"And to think how you've grown, Hilda dear! You don't remember it, of
+course, but this isn't the first time you have been at Hartley's Glen. A
+sweet baby you were, just toddling about on the prettiest little feet I
+ever saw, when your mamma brought you out here to spend a month with old
+Nurse Lucy. And your father came out every week, whenever he could get
+away from his business. What a fine man he is, to be sure! And he and my
+husband had rare times, shooting over the meadows, and fishing, and the
+like."
+
+They were still in the wood-road, now jolting along over ridges and
+hummocks, now ploughing through stretches of soft, sandy soil. Above and
+on either side, the great trees interlaced their branches, sometimes
+letting them droop till they brushed against Hilda's cheek, sometimes
+lifting them to give her a glimpse of cool vistas of dusky green, shade
+within shade,--moss-grown hollows, where the St. John's-wort showed its
+tarnished gold, and white Indian pipe gleamed like silver along the
+ground; or stony beds over which, in the time of the spring rains,
+little brown brooks ran foaming and bubbling down through the woods. The
+air was filled with the faint cool smell of ferns, and on every side
+were great masses of them,--clumps of splendid ostrich-ferns, waving
+their green plumes in stately pride; miniature forests of the graceful
+brake, beneath whose feathery branches the wood-mouse and other tiny
+forest-creatures roamed secure; and in the very road-way, trampled under
+old Nancy's feet, delicate lady-fern, and sturdy hart's-tongue, and a
+dozen other varieties, all perfect in grace and sylvan beauty. Hilda was
+conscious of a vague delight, through all her fatigue and distress How
+beautiful it was; how cool and green and restful! If she must stay in
+the country, why could it not be always in the woods, where there was no
+noise, nor dust, nor confusion?
+
+Her revery was broken in upon by Dame Hartley's voice crying cheerily,--
+
+"And here we are, out of the woods at last! Cheer up, my pretty, and let
+me show you the first sight of the farm. It's a pleasant, heartsome
+place, to my thinking."
+
+The trees opened left and right, stepping back and courtesying, like
+true gentlefolks as they are, with delicate leaf-draperies drooping low.
+The sun shone bright and hot on a bit of hard, glaring yellow road, and
+touched more quietly the roofs and chimneys of an old yellow farm-house
+standing at some distance from the road, with green rolling meadows on
+every side, and a great clump of trees mounting guard behind it. A low
+stone wall, with wild-roses nodding over it, ran along the roadside for
+some way, and midway in it was a trim, yellow-painted gate, which stood
+invitingly open, showing a neat drive-way, shaded on either side by
+graceful drooping elms. Old Nancy pricked up her ears and quickened her
+pace into a very respectable trot, as if she already smelt her oats.
+Dame Hartley shook her own comfortable shoulders and gave a little sigh
+of relief, for she too was tired, and glad to get home. But Hilda
+tightened her grasp on the handle of her dressing-bag, and closed her
+eyes with a slight shiver of dislike and dread. She would not look at
+this place. It was the hateful prison where she was to be shut up for
+three long, weary, dismal months. The sun might shine on it, the trees
+might wave, and the wild-roses open their slender pink buds; it would be
+nothing to her. She hated it, and nothing, nothing, _nothing_ could
+_ever_ make her feel differently. Ah! the fixed and immovable
+determination of fifteen,--does later life bring anything like it?
+
+But now the wagon stopped, and Hilda must open her eyes, whether she
+would or no. In the porch, under the blossoming clematis, stood a tall,
+broad-shouldered man, dressed in rough homespun, who held out his great
+brown hand and said in a gruff, hearty voice,--
+
+"Here ye be, eh? Thought ye was never comin'. And this is little miss,
+is it? Howdy, missy? Glad to see ye! Let me jump ye out over the wheel!"
+
+But Hilda declined to be "jumped out;" and barely touching the proffered
+hand, sprang lightly to the ground.
+
+"Now, Marm Lucy," said Farmer Hartley, "let's see you give a jump like
+that. 'Tain't so long, seems to me, sence ye used to be as spry as a
+hoppergrass."
+
+Dame Hartley laughed, and climbed leisurely down from the cart. "Never
+mind, Jacob!" she said; "I'm spry enough yet to take care of you, if I
+can't jump as well as I used."
+
+"This missy's trunk?" continued the farmer. "Let me see! What's missy's
+name now? Huldy, ain't it! Little Huldy! 'Pears to me that's what they
+used to call ye when ye was here before."
+
+"My name is Hildegardis Graham!" said Hilda in her most icy
+manner,--what Madge Everton used to call her
+Empress-of-Russia-in-the-ice-palace-with-the-mercury-sixty-degrees-below-zero
+manner.
+
+"Huldy Gardies!" repeated Farmer Hartley. "Well, that's a comical name
+now! Sounds like Hurdy-gurdys, doosn't it? Where did Mis' Graham pick up
+a name like that, I wonder? But I reckon Huldy'll do for me, 'thout the
+Gardies, whatever they be."
+
+"Come, father," said Dame Hartley, "the child's tired now, an' I guess
+she wants to go upstairs. If you'll take the trunk, we'll follow ye."
+
+The stalwart farmer swung the heavy trunk up on his shoulder as lightly
+as if it were a small satchel, and led the way into the house and up the
+steep, narrow staircase.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE PRISONER OF DESPAIR.
+
+
+As she followed in angry silence, Hilda had a glimpse through a
+half-open door of a cosey sitting-room; while another door, standing
+fully open at the other end of the little hall, showed, by a blaze of
+scarlet tiger-lilies and yellow marigolds, where the garden lay. And now
+the farmer opened a door and set down the trunk with a heavy thump; and
+Dame Hartley, taking the girl's hand, led her forward, saying: "Here, my
+dear, here is your own little room,--the same that your dear mamma slept
+in when she was here! And I hope you'll be happy in it, Hilda dear, and
+get all the good we wish for you while you're here!" Hilda bowed
+slightly, feeling unable to speak; and the good woman continued: "You
+must be hungry as well as tired, travelling since morning. It's near our
+dinner-time. Or shall I bring ye up something now,--a cup o' tea and a
+cooky, eh? Or would you like solid victuals better?"
+
+"Thank you!" said Hilda. "I am not at all hungry; I could not possibly
+eat anything. My head aches badly!" she added, nervously forestalling
+her hostess's protestations. "Perhaps a cup of tea later, thank you! I
+should like to rest now. And I shall not want any dinner."
+
+"Oh! you'll feel better, dear, when you have rested a bit," said Dame
+Hartley, smoothing the girl's fair hair with a motherly touch, and not
+seeming to notice her angry shrinking away. "It's the best thing you can
+do, to lie down and take a good nap; then you'll wake up fresh as a
+lark, and ready to enjoy yourself. Good-by, dearie! I'll bring up your
+tea in an hour or so." And with a parting nod and smile, the good woman
+departed, leaving Hilda, like the heroine of a three-volume novel,
+"alone with her despair."
+
+Very tragic indeed the maiden looked as she tossed off her hat and flung
+herself face downward on the bed, refusing to cast even a glance at the
+cell which was to be her hateful prison. "For of course I shall spend my
+time here!" she said to herself. "They may send me here, keep me here
+for years, if they will; but they cannot make me associate with these
+people." And she recalled with a shudder the gnarled, horny hand which
+she had touched in jumping from the cart,--she had never felt anything
+like it; the homely speech, and the nasal twang with which it was
+delivered; the uncouth garb (good stout butternut homespun!) and unkempt
+hair and beard of the "odious old savage," as she mentally named Farmer
+Hartley.
+
+After all, however, Hilda was only fifteen; and after a few minutes,
+Curiosity began to wake; and after a short struggle with Despair, it
+conquered, and she sat up on the bed and looked about her.
+
+It was not a very dreadful cell. A bright, clean, fresh little room, all
+white and blue. White walls, white bedstead, with oh! such snowy
+coverings, white dimity curtains at the windows, with old-fashioned ball
+fringes, a little dimity-covered toilet-table, with a quaint
+looking-glass framed with fat gilt cherubs, all apparently trying to
+fold their wings in such a way as to enable them to get a peep at
+themselves in the mirror, and not one succeeding. Then there was a low
+rocking-chair, and another chair of the high-backed order, and a tall
+chest of drawers, all painted white, and a wash-hand-stand with a set of
+dark-blue crockery on it which made the victim of despair open her eyes
+wide. Hilda had a touch of china mania, and knew a good thing when she
+saw it; and this deep, eight-sided bowl, this graceful jug with the
+quaint gilt dragon for a handle, these smaller jugs, boxes, and dishes,
+all of the same pattern, all with dark-blue dragons (no cold "Canton"
+blue, but a rich, splendid ultramarine), large and small, prancing and
+sprawling on a pale buff ground,--what were these things doing in the
+paltry bedroom of a common farm-house? Hilda felt a new touch of
+indignation at "these people" for presuming to have such things in their
+possession.
+
+When her keen eyes had taken in everything, down to the neat rag-carpet
+on the floor, the girl bethought her of her trunk. She might as well
+unpack it. Her head could not ache worse, whatever she did; and now that
+that little imp Curiosity was once awake, he prompted her to wonder what
+the trunk contained. None of the dresses she had been wearing, she was
+sure of that; for they were all hanging safely in her wardrobe at home.
+What surprise had mamma been planning? Well, she would soon know.
+Hastily unlocking the trunk, she lifted out one tray after another and
+laid them on the bed. In the first were piles of snowy collars and
+handkerchiefs, all of plain, fine linen, with no lace or embroidery; a
+broad-brimmed straw hat with a simple wreath of daisies round it;
+another hat, a small one, of rough gray felt, with no trimming at all,
+save a narrow scarlet ribbon; a pair of heavy castor gloves; a couple of
+white aprons, and one of brown holland, with long sleeves. The next tray
+was filled with dresses,--dresses which made Hilda's eyes open wide
+again, as she laid them out, one by one, at full length. There was a
+dark blue gingham with a red stripe, a brown gingham dotted with yellow
+daisies, a couple of light calicoes, each with a tiny figure or flower
+on it, a white lawn, and a sailor-suit of rough blue flannel. All these
+dresses, and among them all not an atom of trimming. No sign of an
+overskirt, no ruffle or puff, plaiting or ruching, no "Hamburg" or
+lace,--nothing! Plain round waists, neatly stitched at throat and
+wrists; plain round skirts, each with a deep hem, and not so much as a
+tuck by way of adornment.
+
+Hildegarde drew a deep breath, and looked at the simple frocks with
+kindling eyes and flushing cheeks. These were the sort of dresses that
+her mother's servants wore at home. Why was she condemned to wear them
+now,--she, who delighted in soft laces and dainty embroideries and the
+clinging draperies which she thought suited her slender, pliant figure
+so well? Was it a part of this whole scheme; and was the object of the
+scheme to humiliate her, to take away her self-respect, her proper
+pride?
+
+Mechanically, but carefully, as was her wont, Hilda hung the despised
+frocks in the closet, put away the hats, after trying them on and
+approving of them, in spite of herself ("Of course," she said, "mamma
+_could_ not get an ugly hat, if she tried!"), and then proceeded to take
+out and lay in the bureau drawers the dainty under-clothing which filled
+the lower part of the trunk. Under all was a layer of books, at sight
+of which Hilda gave a little cry of pleasure. "Ah!" she said, "I shall
+not be quite alone;" for she saw at a glance that here were some old and
+dear friends. Lovingly she took them up, one by one: "Romances of the
+Middle Ages," Percy's "Reliques," "Hereward," and "Westward, Ho!" and,
+best-beloved of all, the "Adventures of Robin Hood," by grace of Howard
+Pyle made into so strong an enchantment that the heart thrills even at
+sight of its good brown cover. And here was her Tennyson and her
+Longfellow, and Plutarch's Lives, and the "Book of Golden Deeds." Verily
+a goodly company, such as might even turn a prison into a palace. But
+what was this, lying in the corner, with her Bible and Prayer-book, this
+white leather case, with--ah! Hilda--with blue forget-me-nots delicately
+painted on it? Hastily Hilda took it up and pressed the spring. Her
+mother's face smiled on her! The clear, sweet eyes looked lovingly into
+hers; the tender mouth, which had never spoken a harsh or unkind word,
+seemed almost to quiver as if in life. So kind, so loving, so faithful,
+so patient, always ready to sympathize, to help, to smile with one's joy
+or to comfort one's grief,--her own dear, dear mother! A mist came
+before the girl's eyes. She gazed at the miniature till she could no
+longer see it; and then, flinging herself down on the pillow again, she
+burst into a passion of tears, and sobbed and wept as if her heart would
+break. No longer Queen Hildegardis, no longer the outraged and indignant
+"prisoner," only Hilda,--Hilda who wanted her mother!
+
+Finally she sobbed herself to sleep,--which was the very best thing she
+could have done. By and by Dame Hartley peeped softly in, and seeing the
+child lying "all in a heap," as she said to herself, with her pretty
+hair all tumbled about, brought a shawl and covered her carefully up,
+and went quietly away.
+
+"Pretty lamb!" said the good woman. "She'll sleep all the afternoon now,
+like enough, and wake up feeling a good bit better,--though I fear it
+will be a long time before your girlie feels at home with Nurse Lucy,
+Miss Mildred, dear!"
+
+Sure enough, Hilda did sleep all the afternoon; and the soft summer
+twilight was closing round the farm-house when she woke with a start
+from a dream of home.
+
+"Mamma!" she called quickly, raising herself from the bed. For one
+moment she stared in amazement at the strange room, with its unfamiliar
+furnishing; but recollection came only too quickly. She started up as a
+knock was heard at the door, and Dame Hartley's voice said:
+
+"Hilda, dear, supper is ready, and I am sure you must be very hungry.
+Will you come down with me?"
+
+"Oh! thank you, presently," said Hildegarde, hastily. "I am not--I
+haven't changed my dress yet. Don't wait for me, please!"
+
+"Dear heart, don't think of changing your dress!" said Dame Hartley.
+"You are a country lassie now, you know, and we are plain farm people.
+Come down just as you are, there's a dear!"
+
+Hilda obeyed, only waiting to wash her burning face and hot, dry hands
+in the crystal-cold water which she poured out of the blue dragon
+pitcher. Her hair was brushed back and tied with a ribbon, the little
+curls combed and patted over her forehead; and in a few minutes she
+followed her hostess down the narrow staircase, with a tolerably
+resigned expression on her pretty face. To tell the truth, Hilda felt a
+great deal better for her long nap; moreover she was a little curious,
+and very, very hungry,--and oh, how good something did smell!
+
+Mrs. Hartley led the way into the kitchen, as the chief room at Hartley
+Farm was still called, though the cooking was now done by means of a
+modern stove in the back kitchen, while the great fireplace, with the
+crane hanging over it, and the brick oven by its side, was used, as a
+rule, only to warm the room. At this season the room needed no warming,
+and feathery asparagus crowned the huge back-log, and nodded between the
+iron fire-dogs. Ah! it was a pleasant room, the kitchen at Hartley
+Farm,--wide and roomy, with deep-seated windows facing the south and
+west; with a floor of dark oak, which shone with more than a century of
+scrubbing. The fireplace, oven, and cupboards occupied one whole side of
+the room. Along the other ran a high dresser, whose shelves held a
+goodly array of polished pewter and brass, shining glass, and curious
+old china and crockery. Overhead were dark, heavy rafters, relieved by
+the gleam of yellow "crook-neck" squashes, bunches of golden corn, and
+long festoons of dried apples. In one window stood the good dame's
+rocking-chair, with its gay patchwork cushion; and her Bible,
+spectacles, and work-basket lay on the window-seat beside it. In
+another was a huge leather arm-chair, which Hilda rightly supposed to be
+the farmer's, and a wonderful piece of furniture, half desk, half chest
+of drawers, with twisted legs and cupboards and pigeon-holes and tiny
+drawers, and I don't know what else. The third window Hilda thought was
+the prettiest of all. It faced the west, and the full glory of sunset
+was now pouring through the clustering vines which partly shaded it. The
+sash was open, and a white rose was leaning in and nodding in a friendly
+way, as if greeting the new-comer. A low chair and a little work-table,
+both of quaint and graceful fashion, stood in the recess; and on the
+window-seat stood some flowering-plants in pretty blue and white pots.
+
+"I suppose _I_ am expected to sit there!" said Hilda to herself. "As if
+I should sit down in a kitchen!" But all the while she knew in her heart
+of hearts that this was one of the most attractive rooms she had ever
+seen, and that that particular corner was pretty enough and picturesque
+enough for a queen to sit in. You are not to think that she saw all
+these things at the first glance; far from it. There was something else
+in the room which claimed the immediate attention of our heroine, and
+that was a square oak table, shining like a mirror, and covered with
+good things,--cold chicken, eggs and bacon, golden butter and honey, a
+great brown loaf on a wonderful carved wooden platter, delicate rolls
+piled high on a shallow blue dish, and a portly glass jug filled with
+rich, creamy milk. Here was a pleasant sight for a hungry heroine of
+fifteen! But alas! at the head of this inviting table sat Farmer
+Hartley, the "odious savage," in his rough homespun coat, with his hair
+still very far from smooth (though indeed he had brushed it, and the
+broad, horny hands were scrupulously clean). With a slight shudder Hilda
+took the seat which Dame Hartley offered her.
+
+"Well, Huldy," said the farmer, looking up from his eggs and bacon with
+a cheery smile, "here ye be, eh? Rested after yer journey, be ye?"
+
+"Yes, thank you!" said Hilda, coldly.
+
+"Have some chick'n!" he continued, putting nearly half a chicken on her
+plate. "An' a leetle bacon, jes' ter liven it up, hey? That's right!
+It's my idee thet most everythin' 's the better for a bit o' bacon,
+unless it's soft custard. I d' 'no ez thet 'ud go with it pitickler.
+Haw! haw!"
+
+Hilda kept her eyes on her plate, determined to pay no attention to the
+vulgar pleasantries of this unkempt monster. It was hard enough to eat
+with a steel fork, without being further tormented. But the farmer
+seemed determined to drag her into conversation.
+
+"How's yer ha-alth in gineral, Huldy? Pooty rugged, be ye? Seems to me
+ye look kin' o' peaked."
+
+"I am quite well!" It was Queen Hildegarde who spoke now, in icy tones;
+but her coldness had no effect on her loquacious host.
+
+"I s'pose ye'll want ter lay by a day or two, till ye git used ter
+things, like; but then I sh'll want ye ter take holt. We're short-handed
+now, and a smart, likely gal kin be a sight o' help. There's the cows
+ter milk--the' ain't but one o' them thet's real ugly, and _she_ only
+kicks with the off hind-leg; so 't's easy enough ter look out for her."
+
+Hilda looked up in horror and amazement, and caught a twinkle in the
+farmer's eye which told her that he was quizzing her. The angry blood
+surged up even to the roots of her hair; but she disdained to reply, and
+continued to crumble her bread in silence.
+
+"Father, what ails you?" said kind Dame Hartley. "Why can't you let the
+child alone? She's tired yet, and she doesn't understand your joking
+ways.--Don't you mind the farmer, dear, one bit; his heart's in the
+right place, but he do love to tease."
+
+But the good woman's gentle words were harder to bear, at that moment,
+than her husband's untimely jesting. Hilda's heart swelled high. She
+felt that in another moment the tears must come; and murmuring a word of
+excuse, she hastily pushed back her chair and left the room.
+
+An hour after, Hilda was sitting by the window of her own room, looking
+listlessly out on the soft summer evening, and listening to the
+melancholy cry of the whippoorwill, when she heard voices below. The
+farmer was sitting with his pipe in the vine-clad porch just under the
+window; and now his wife had joined him, after "redding up" the kitchen,
+and giving orders for the next morning to the tidy maidservant.
+
+"Well, Marm Lucy," said Farmer Hartley's gruff, hearty voice, "now thet
+you have your fine bird, I sh'd like to know what you're a-goin' to do
+with her. She's as pretty as a pictur, but a stuck-up piece as ever I
+see. Don't favor her mother, nor father either, as I can see."
+
+"Poor child!" said Dame Hartley, with a sigh, "I fear she will have a
+hard time of it before she comes to herself. But I promised Miss Mildred
+that I would try my best; and you said you would help me, Jacob."
+
+"So I did, and so I will!" replied the farmer. "But tell me agin, what
+was Miss Mildred's idee? I got the giner'l drift of it, but I can't seem
+to put it together exactly. I didn't s'pose the gal was _this_ kind,
+anyhow."
+
+"She told me," Dame Hartley said, "that this child--her only one, Jacob!
+you know what that means--was getting into ways she didn't like. Going
+about with other city misses, who cared for nothing but pleasure, and
+who flattered and petted her because of her beauty and her pretty, proud
+ways (and maybe because of her father's money too; though Miss Mildred
+didn't say that), she was getting to think too much of herself, and to
+care too much for fine dresses and sweetmeats and idle chatter about
+nothing at all." (How Hilda's cheeks burned as she remembered the long
+seances in her room, she on the sofa, and Madge in the arm-chair, with
+the box of Huyler's or Maillard's best always between them! Had they
+ever talked of anything "worth the while," as mamma would say? She
+remembered mamma's coming in upon them once or twice, with her sweet,
+grave face. She remembered, too, a certain uneasy feeling she had had
+for a moment--only for a moment--when the door closed behind her mother.
+But Madge had laughed, and said, "Isn't your mother perfectly sweet? She
+doesn't mind a bit, does she?" and she had answered, "Oh, no!" and had
+forgotten it in the account of Helen McIvor's new bonnet.) "And then
+Miss Mildred said, 'I had meant to take her into the country with me
+this summer, and try to show the child what life really means, and let
+her learn to know her brothers and sisters in the different walks of
+this life, and how they live, and what they do. I want her to see for
+herself what a tiny bit of the world, and what a silly, useless, gilded
+bit, is the little set of fashionable girls whom she has chosen for her
+friends. But this sudden call to California has disarranged all my
+plans. I cannot take her with me there, for the child is not well, and
+country air and quiet are necessary for her bodily health. And so, Nurse
+Lucy,' she says, 'I want _you_ to take my child, and do by her as you
+did by me!'
+
+"'Oh! Miss Mildred,' I said, 'do you think she can be happy or contented
+here? I'll do my best; I'm sure you know that! But if she's as you say,
+she is a very different child to what you were, Miss Mildred dear.'
+
+"'She will not be happy at first,' says Miss Mildred. 'But she has a
+really noble nature, Nurse Lucy, and I am very sure that it will triumph
+over the follies and faults which are on the outside.'
+
+"And then she kissed me, the dear! and came up and helped me set the
+little room to rights, and kissed the pillows, sweet lady, and cried
+over them a bit. Ah me! 'tis hard parting from our children, even for a
+little while, that it is."
+
+Dame Hartley paused and sighed. Then she said: "And so, here the child
+is, for good or for ill, and we must do our very best by her, Jacob, you
+as well as I. What ailed you to-night, to tease her so at supper? I
+thought shame of you, my man."
+
+"Well, Marm Lucy," said the farmer, "I don't hardly know what ailed me.
+But I tell ye what, 'twas either laugh or cry for me, and I thought
+laughin' was better nor t'other. To see that gal a-settin' there, with
+her pretty head tossed up, and her fine, mincin' ways, as if 'twas an
+honor to the vittles to put them in her mouth; and to think of my
+maid--" He stopped abruptly, and rising from the bench, began to pace up
+and down the garden-path. His wife joined him after a moment, and the
+two walked slowly to and fro together, talking in low tones, while the
+soft summer darkness gathered closer and closer, and the pleasant
+night-sounds woke, cricket and katydid and the distant whippoorwill
+filling the air with a cheerful murmur.
+
+Long, long sat Hildegarde at the window, thinking more deeply than she
+had ever thought in her life before. Different passions held her young
+mind in control while she sat motionless, gazing into the darkness with
+wide-open eyes. First anger burned high, flooding her cheek with hot
+blushes, making her temples throb and her hands clench themselves in a
+passion of resentment. But to this succeeded a mood of deep sadness, of
+despair, as she thought; though at fifteen one knows not, happily, the
+meaning of despair.
+
+Was this all true? Was she no better, no wiser, than the silly girls of
+her set? She had always felt herself so far above them mentally; they
+had always so frankly acknowledged her supremacy; she knew she was
+considered a "very superior girl:" was it true that her only superiority
+lay in possessing powers which she never chose to exert? And then came
+the bitter thought: "What have I ever done to prove myself wiser than
+they?" Alas for the answer! Hilda hid her face in her hands, and it was
+shame instead of anger that now sent the crimson flush over her cheeks.
+Her mother despised her! Her mother--perhaps her father too! They loved
+her, of course; the tender love had never failed, and would never fail.
+They were proud of her too, in a way. And yet they despised her; they
+must despise her! How could they help it? Her mother, whose days were a
+ceaseless round of work for others, without a thought of herself; her
+father, active, energetic, business-like,--what must her life seem to
+them? How was it that she had never seen, never dreamed before, that she
+was an idle, silly, frivolous girl? The revelation came upon her with
+stunning force. These people too, these coarse country people, despised
+her and laughed at her! The thought was more than she could bear. She
+sprang up, feeling as if she were suffocating, and walked up and down
+the little room with hurried and nervous steps. Then suddenly there came
+into her mind one sentence of her mother's that Dame Hartley had
+repeated: "Hilda has a really noble nature--" What was the rest?
+Something about triumphing over the faults and follies which lay
+outside. Had her mother really said that? Did she believe, trust in, her
+silly daughter? The girl stood still, with clasped hands and bowed head.
+The tumult within her seemed to die away, and in its place something was
+trembling into life, the like of which Hilda Graham had never known,
+never thought of, before; faint and timid at first, but destined to gain
+strength and to grow from that one moment,--a wish, a hope, finally a
+resolve.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE NEW HILDA.
+
+
+The morning came laughing into Hilda's room, and woke her with such a
+flash of sunshine and trill of bird-song that she sprang up smiling,
+whether she would or no. Indeed, she felt happier than she could have
+believed to be possible. The anger, the despair, even the
+self-humiliation and anguish of repentance, were gone with the night.
+Morning was here,--a new day and a new life. "Here is the new
+Hildegarde!" she cried as she plunged her face into the clear, sparkling
+water. "Do you see me, blue dragons? Shake paws, you foolish creatures,
+and don't stand ramping and glaring at each other in that way! Here is a
+new girl come to see you. The old one was a minx,--do you hear,
+dragons?" The dragons heard, but were too polite to say anything; and as
+for not ramping, why they had ramped and glared for fifty years, and had
+no idea of making a change at their time of life.
+
+The gilt cherubs round the little mirror were more amiable, and smiled
+cheerfully at Hilda as she brushed and braided her hair, and put on the
+pretty blue gingham frock. "We have no clothes ourselves," they seemed
+to say, "but we appreciate good ones when we see them!" Indeed, the
+frock fitted to perfection. "And after all," said the new Hilda as she
+twirled round in front of the glass, "what _is_ the use of an
+overskirt?" after which astounding utterance, this young person
+proceeded to do something still more singular. After a moment's
+hesitation she drew out one of the white aprons which she had scornfully
+laid in the very lowest drawer only twelve hours before, tied it round
+her slender waist, and then, with an entirely satisfied little nod at
+the mirror, she tripped lightly downstairs and into the kitchen. Dame
+Hartley was washing dishes at the farther end of the room, in her neat
+little cedar dish-tub, with her neat little mop; and she nearly dropped
+the blue and white platter from her hands when she heard Hilda's
+cheerful "Good morning, Nurse Lucy!" and, turning, saw the girl smiling
+like a vision of morning.
+
+"My dear," she cried, "sure I thought you were fast asleep still. I was
+going up to wake you as soon as I had done my dishes. And did you sleep
+well your first night at Hartley's Glen?"
+
+"Oh, yes! I slept very sound indeed," said Hilda, lightly. And then,
+coming close up to Dame Hartley, she said in an altered tone, and with
+heightened color: "Nurse Lucy, I did not behave well last night, and I
+want to tell you that I am sorry. I am not like mamma, but I want to
+grow a little like her, if I can, and you must help me, please!"
+
+Her voice faltered, and good Nurse Lucy, laying down her mop, took the
+slender figure in her motherly arms, from which it did not now shrink
+away.
+
+"My lamb!" she said; "Miss Mildred's own dear child! You look liker your
+blessed mother this minute than I ever thought you would. Help you? That
+I will, with all my heart!--though I doubt if you need much help, coming
+to yourself so soon as this. Well, well!"
+
+"Coming to herself!" It was the same phrase the good dame had used the
+night before, and it struck Hilda's mind with renewed force. Yes, she
+had come to herself,--her new self, which was to be so different from
+the old. How strange it all was! What should she do now, to prove the
+new Hilda and try her strength? Something must be done at once; the time
+for folded hands and listless revery was gone by.
+
+"Shall I--may I help you to get breakfast?" she asked aloud, rather
+timidly.
+
+"Breakfast? Bless you, honey, we had breakfast two hours ago. We farmers
+are early birds, you know. But you can lay a plate and napkin for
+yourself, if you like, while I drop a couple of fresh eggs and toast a
+bit of bacon for you. Do you like bacon, then?"
+
+Rather disappointed at the failure of her first attempt to be useful,
+Hilda laid the snowy napkin on the shining table, and chose a pretty
+blue and white plate from the well-stocked shelves of the dresser.
+
+"And now open that cupboard, my lamb," said her hostess, "and you'll
+find the loaf, and a piece of honeycomb, and some raspberries. I'll
+bring a pat of butter and some milk from the dairy, where it's all cool
+for you."
+
+"Raspberries!" cried Hilda. "Oh, how delightful! Why, the dew is still
+on them, Nurse Lucy! And how pretty they look, with the cool green
+leaves round them!"
+
+"Ay!" said the good woman, "Jacob brought them in not ten minutes ago.
+He thought you would like them fresh from the bushes."
+
+Hilda's cheek rivalled the raspberries in bloom as she bent over them to
+inhale their fragrance. The farmer had picked these himself for
+her,--had probably left his work to do so; and she had called him an
+odious old savage, and an unkempt monster, and--oh dear! decidedly, the
+old Hilda was a very disagreeable girl. But here were the eggs, each
+blushing behind its veil of white, and here was the milk, and a little
+firm nugget in a green leaf, which was too beautiful to be butter, and
+yet too good to be anything else. And the new Hilda might eat her
+breakfast with a thankful heart, and did so. The white rose nodded to
+her from the west window much more cordially than it had done the night
+before. It even brought out a little new bud to take a peep at the girl
+who now smiled, instead of scowling across the room. The vines rustled
+and shook, and two bright black eyes peeped between the leaves.
+"Tweet!" said the robin, ruffling his scarlet waistcoat a little. "When
+you have quite finished your worms, you may come out, and I will show
+you the garden. There are cherries!" and away he flew, while Hilda
+laughed and clapped her hands, for she had understood every word.
+
+"May I go out into the garden?" she asked, when she had finished her
+breakfast and taken her first lesson in dish-washing, in spite of Dame
+Hartley's protest. "And isn't there something I can do there, please? I
+want to work; I don't want to be idle any longer."
+
+"Well, honey," replied the dame, "there are currants to pick, if you
+like such work as that. I am going to make jelly to-morrow; and if you
+like to begin the picking, I will come and help you when my bread is out
+of the oven."
+
+Gladly Hilda flew up to her room for the broad-leaved hat with the
+daisy-wreath; and then, taking the wide, shallow basket which Dame
+Hartley handed her, she fairly danced out of the door, over the bit of
+green, and into the garden.
+
+Ah! the sweet, heartsome country garden that this was,--the very thought
+of it is a rest and a pleasure. Straight down the middle ran a little
+gravel path, with a border of fragrant clove-pinks on either side,
+planted so close together that one saw only the masses of pale pink
+blossoms resting on their bed of slender silvery leaves. And over the
+border! Oh the wealth of flowers, the blaze of crimson and purple and
+gold, the bells that swung, the spires that sprang heavenward, the
+clusters that nodded and whispered together in the morning breeze! Here
+were ranks upon ranks of silver lilies, drawn up in military fashion,
+and marshalled by clumps of splendid tiger-lilies,--the drum-majors of
+the flower-garden. Here were roses of every sort, blushing and paling,
+glowing in gold and mantling in crimson. And the carnations showed their
+delicate fringes, and the geraniums blazed, and the heliotrope
+languished, and the "Puritan pansies" lifted their sweet faces and
+looked gravely about, as if reproving the other flowers for their
+frivolity; while shy Mignonette, thinking herself well hidden behind her
+green leaves, still made her presence known by the exquisite perfume
+which all her gay sisters would have been glad to borrow.
+
+Over all went the sunbeams, rollicking and playing; and through all went
+Hildegarde, her heart filled with a new delight, feeling as if she had
+never lived before. She talked to the flowers. She bent and kissed the
+damask rose, which was too beautiful to pluck. She put her cheek against
+a lily's satin-silver petals, and started when an angry bee flew out and
+buzzed against her nose. But where were the currant-bushes? Ah! there
+they were,--a row of stout green bushes, forming a hedge at the bottom
+of the garden.
+
+Hilda fell busily to work, filling her basket with the fine, ruddy
+clusters. "How beautiful they are!" she thought, holding up a bunch so
+that the sunlight shone through it. "And these pale, pinky golden ones,
+which show all the delicate veins inside. Really, I _must_ eat this fat
+bunch; they are like fairy grapes! The butler fay comes and picks a
+cluster every evening, and carries it on a lily-leaf platter to the
+queen as she sits supping on honey-cakes and dew under the damask
+rose-bush."
+
+While fingers and fancy were thus busily employed, Hilda was startled by
+the sound of a voice which seemed to come from beyond the
+currant-bushes, very near her. She stood quite still and listened.
+
+"A-g, ag," said the voice; "g-l-o-m, glom,--agglom; e-r er,--agglomer;
+a-t-e, ate,--agglomerate." There was a pause, and then it began again:
+"A-g, ag; g-l-o-m, glom," etc.
+
+Hilda's curiosity was now thoroughly aroused; and laying down her
+basket, she cautiously parted the leaves and peeped through. She hardly
+knew what she expected to see. What she did see was a boy about ten
+years old, in a flannel shirt and a pair of ragged breeches, busily
+weeding a row of carrots; for this was the vegetable garden, which lay
+behind the currant-bushes. On one side of the boy was a huge heap of
+weeds; on the other lay a tattered book, at which he glanced from time
+to time, though without leaving his work. "A-n, an," he was now saying;
+"t-i, ti,--anti; c-i-p, cip,--anticip; a-t-e, ate,--anti_cip_ate. 'To
+expect.' Well! that _is_ a good un. Why can't they _say_ expect, 'stead
+o' breakin' their jawsen with a word like that? Anti_cip_-ate! Well, I
+swan! I hope he enjoyed eatin' it. Sh'd think 't'd ha giv' him the
+dyspepsy, anyhow."
+
+At this Hilda could contain herself no longer, but burst into a merry
+peal of laughter; and as the boy started up with staring eyes and open
+mouth, she pushed the bushes aside and came towards him. "I am sorry I
+laughed," she said, not unkindly. "You said that so funnily, I couldn't
+help it. You did not pronounce the word quite right, either. It is
+an_ti_cipate, not antic_ip_-ate."
+
+[Illustration: "SHE PUSHED THE BUSHES ASIDE AND CAME TOWARDS HIM"]
+
+The boy looked half bewildered and half grateful. "An_ti_cipate!" he
+repeated, slowly. "Thanky, miss! it's a onreasonable sort o' word,
+'pears ter me." And he bent over his carrots again.
+
+But Hilda did not return to her currant-picking. She was interested in
+this freckled, tow-headed boy, wrestling with four-syllabled words while
+he worked.
+
+"Why do you study your lesson out here?" she asked, sitting down on a
+convenient stump, and refreshing herself with another bunch of white
+currants. "Couldn't you learn it better indoors?"
+
+"Dunno!" replied the boy. "Ain't got no time ter stay indoors."
+
+"You might learn it in the evening!" suggested Hilda.
+
+"I can't keep awake evenin's," said the boy, simply. "Hev to be up at
+four o'clock to let the cows out, an' I git sleepy, come night. An' I
+like it here too," he added. "I can l'arn 'em easier, weedin'; take ten
+weeds to a word."
+
+"Ten weeds to a word?" repeated Hilda. "I don't understand you."
+
+"Why," said the boy, looking up at her with wide-open blue eyes, "I take
+a good stiff word (I like 'em stiff, like that an--an_ti_cipate feller),
+and I says it over and over while I pull up ten weeds,--big weeds, o'
+course, pusley and sich. I don't count chickweed. By the time the weeds
+is up, I know the word, I've larned fifteen this spell!" and he glanced
+proudly at his tattered spelling-book as he tugged away at a mammoth
+root of pusley, which stretched its ugly, sprawling length of fleshy
+arms on every side.
+
+Hilda watched him for some moments, many new thoughts revolving in her
+head. How many country boys were there who taught themselves in this
+way? How many, among the clever girls at Mademoiselle Haut-ton's
+school, had this sort of ambition to learn, of pride in learning? Had
+she, the best scholar in her class, had it? She had always known her
+lessons, because they were easy for her to learn, because she had a
+quick eye and ear, and a good memory. She could not help learning,
+Mademoiselle said. But this,--this was something different!
+
+"What is your name?" she asked, with a new interest.
+
+"Bubble Chirk," replied the freckled boy, with one eye on his book, and
+the other measuring a tall spire of pigweed, towards which he stretched
+his hand.
+
+"WHAT!" cried Hilda, in amazement.
+
+"Bubble Chirk!" said the boy. "Kin' o' curus name, ain't it? The hull of
+it's Zerubbabel Chirk; but most folks ain't got time to say all that. It
+trips you up, too, sort o'. Bubble's what they call me; 'nless it's
+Bub."
+
+The contrast between the boy's earnest and rather pathetic face, and
+his absurdly volatile name, was almost too much for Hilda's gravity. But
+she checked the laugh which rose to her lips, and asked: "Don't you go
+to school at all, Bubble? It is a pity that you shouldn't, when you are
+so fond of study."
+
+"Gin'lly go for a spell in the winter," replied Bubble. "They ain't no
+school in summer, y' know. Boys hes to work, round here. Mam ain't got
+nobody but me 'n Pink, sence father died."
+
+"Who is Pink?" asked Hilda, gently.
+
+"My sister," replied Bubble. "Thet ain't _her_ real name, nuther. Mam
+hed her christened Pinkrosia, along o' her bein' so fond o' roses, Mam
+was; but we don't call her nothin' only Pink."
+
+"Pink Chirk!" repeated Hilda to herself. "What a name! What can a girl
+be like who is called Pink Chirk?"
+
+But now Bubble seemed to think that it was his turn to ask questions. "I
+reckon you're the gal that's come to stay at Mr. Hartley's?" he said in
+an interrogative tone.
+
+Hilda's brow darkened for a moment at the word "gal," which came with
+innocent frankness from the lips of the ragged urchin before her. But
+the next moment she remembered that it was only the old Hilda who cared
+about such trifles; so she answered pleasantly enough:
+
+"Yes, I am staying at Mr. Hartley's. I only came yesterday, but I am to
+stay some time."
+
+"And what mought _your_ name be?" inquired Master Chirk.
+
+"Hildegardis Graham." It was gently said, in a very different voice from
+that which had answered Farmer Hartley in the same words the night
+before; but it made a startling impression on Bubble Chirk.
+
+"Hildy--" he began; and then, giving it up, he said simply: "Well, I
+swan! Do ye kerry all that round with ye all the time?"
+
+Hilda laughed outright at this.
+
+"Oh, no!" she said; "I am called Hilda generally."
+
+"But you kin spell the hull of it?" asked the boy anxiously.
+
+"Yes, certainly!" Bubble's eager look subsided into one of mingled awe
+and admiration.
+
+"Reckon ye must know a heap," he said, rather wistfully. "Wish't I did!"
+
+Hilda looked at him for a moment without speaking. Her old self was
+whispering to her. "Take care what you do!" it said. "This is a coarse,
+common, dirty boy. He smells of the stable; his hair is full of hay; his
+hands are beyond description. What have you in common with such a
+creature? He has not even the sense to know that he is your inferior."
+"I don't care!" said the new Hilda. "I know what mamma would do if she
+were here, and I shall do it,--or try to do it, at least. Hold your
+tongue, you supercilious minx!"
+
+"Bubble," she said aloud, "would you like me to teach you a little,
+while I am here? I think perhaps I could help you with your lessons."
+
+The boy looked up with a sudden flash in his blue eyes, while his face
+grew crimson with pleasure.
+
+"Would I like it?" he cried eagerly. But the next moment the glow faded,
+and he looked awkwardly down at his ragged book and still more ragged
+clothes. "Guess I ain't no time to l'arn that way," he muttered in
+confusion.
+
+"Nonsense!" said Hilda, decidedly. "There must be _some_ hour in the day
+when you can be spared. I shall speak to Farmer Hartley about it. Don't
+look at your clothes, you foolish boy," she continued, with a touch of
+Queen Hildegardis' quality, yet with a kindly intonation which was new
+to that potentate. "I am not going to teach your clothes. _You_ are not
+your clothes!" cried Her Majesty, wondering at herself, and a little
+flushed with her recent victory over the "minx." The boy's face
+brightened again.
+
+"That's so!" he said, joyously; "that's what Pink says. But I didn't
+s'pose _you'd_ think so," he added, glancing bashfully at the delicate,
+high-bred face, with its flashing eyes and imperial air.
+
+"I _do_ think so!" said Hilda. "So that is settled, and we will have our
+first lesson to-morrow. What would you--"
+
+"Hilda! Hilda! where are you, dear?" called Dame Hartley's voice from
+the other side of the currant-bush-hedge. And catching up her basket,
+and bidding a hasty good-by to her new acquaintance and future scholar,
+Hildegarde darted back through the bushes.
+
+Zerubbabel Chirk looked after her a few moments, with kindling eyes and
+open mouth of wonder and admiration.
+
+"Wall!" he said finally, after a pause of silent meditation, "I swan! I
+reelly do! I swan to man!" and fell to weeding again as if his life
+depended on it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE BLUE PLATTER.
+
+
+     "Merry it is in the green forest,
+      Among the leaves green!"
+
+Thus sang Hildegarde as she sat in the west window, busily stringing her
+currants. She had been thinking a great deal about Bubble Chirk, making
+plans for his education, and wondering what his sister Pink was like. He
+reminded her, she could not tell why, of the "lytel boy" who kept fair
+Alyce's swine, in her favorite ballad of "Adam Bell, Clym o' the Clough,
+and William of Cloudeslee;" and the words of the ballad rose half
+unconsciously to her lips as she bent over the great yellow bowl, heaped
+with scarlet and pale-gold clusters.
+
+     "Merry it is in the green forest,
+      Among the leaves green,
+      Whenas men hunt east and west
+      With bows and arrowes keen,
+
+     "For to raise the deer out of their denne,--
+      Such sights have oft been seen;
+      As by three yemen of the north countree:
+      By them it is, I mean.
+
+     "The one of them hight Adam Bell,
+      The other Clym o' the Clough;
+      The third was Willyam of Cloudeslee,--
+      An archer good enough.
+
+     "They were outlawed for venison,
+      These yemen every one.
+      They swore them brethren on a day
+      To English wood for to gone.
+
+     "Now lythe and listen, gentylmen,
+      That of myrthes loveth to hear!"
+
+At this moment the door opened, and Farmer Hartley entered, taking off
+his battered straw hat as he did so, and wiping his forehead with a red
+bandanna handkerchief. Hilda looked up with a pleasant smile, meaning to
+thank him for the raspberries which he had gathered for her breakfast;
+but to her utter astonishment the moment his eyes fell upon her he gave
+a violent start and turned very pale; then, muttering something under
+his breath, he turned hastily and left the room.
+
+"Oh! what is the matter?" cried Hilda, jumping up from her chair. "What
+have I done, Nurse Lucy? I have made the farmer angry, somehow. Is this
+his chair? I thought--"
+
+"No, no, honey dear!" said Nurse Lucy soothingly. "Sit ye down; sit ye
+down! You have done nothing. I'm right glad of it," she added, with a
+tone of sadness in her pleasant voice. "Seeing as 'tis all in God's
+wisdom, Jacob must come to see it so; and 'tis no help, but a deal of
+hindrance, when folks set aside chairs and the like, and see only them
+that's gone sitting in them." Then, seeing Hilda's look of bewilderment,
+she added, laying her hand gently on the girl's soft hair: "You see,
+dear, we had a daughter of our own this time last year. Our only one she
+was, and just about your age,--the light of our eyes, our Faith. She
+was a good girl, strong and loving and heartsome, and almost as pretty
+as yourself, Hilda dear; but the Father had need of her, so she was
+taken from us for a while. It was cruel hard for Jacob; cruel, cruel
+hard. He can't seem to see, even now, that it was right, or it wouldn't
+have been so. And so I can tell just what he felt, coming in just now,
+sudden like, and seeing you sitting in Faith's chair. Like as not he
+forgot it all for a minute, and thought it was herself. She had a blue
+dress that he always liked, and she'd sit here and sing, and the sun
+coming in on her through her own window there, as she always called it:
+like a pretty picture she was, our Faith."
+
+"Oh!" cried Hilda, taking the brown, motherly hand in both of hers, "I
+am so very, very sorry, dear Nurse Lucy! I did not know! I will never
+sit here again. I thought--"
+
+But she was ashamed to say what she had thought,--that this chair and
+table had been set for her to tempt her to sit down "in a kitchen!" She
+could hear herself say it as she had said it last night, with a world of
+scornful emphasis. How long it seemed since last night; how much older
+she had grown! And yet--and yet somehow she felt a great deal younger.
+
+All this passed through her mind in a moment; but Nurse Lucy was petting
+her, and saying: "Nay, dearie; nay, child! This is just where I want you
+to sit. 'Twill be a real help to Farmer, once he is used to it. Hark! I
+hear him coming now. Sit still! To please me, my dear, sit still where
+ye are."
+
+[Illustration: "SHE BENT IN REAL DISTRESS OVER THE CURRANTS."]
+
+Hilda obeyed, though her heart beat painfully; and she bent in real
+distress over the currants as Farmer Hartley once more entered the room.
+She hardly knew what she feared or expected; but her relief was great
+when he bade her a quiet but cheerful "Good-day!" and crossing the
+room, sat down in his great leather arm-chair.
+
+"Dinner'll be ready in five minutes, Jacob!" said the good dame,
+cheerily; "I've only to lay the table and dish the mutton."
+
+"Oh! let me help," cried Hilda, springing up and setting her bowl of
+currants on the window-sill.
+
+So between the two the snowy cloth was laid, and the blue plates and the
+shining knives and forks laid out. Then they all sat down, and the
+little maid-servant came too, and took her place at the end of the
+table; and presently in came a great loutish-looking fellow, about one
+or two and twenty, with a great shock of sandy hair and little
+ferret-eyes set too near together, whom Dame Hartley introduced as her
+nephew. He sat down too, and ate more than all the rest of them put
+together. At sight of this man, who gobbled his food noisily, and
+uttered loud snorts between the mouthfuls, the old Hilda awoke in full
+force. She could _not_ endure this; mamma never could have intended it!
+The Hartleys were different, of course. She was willing to acknowledge
+that she had been in the wrong about them; but this lout, this oaf, this
+villainous-looking churl,--to expect a lady to sit at the same table
+with him: it was too much! She would ask if she might not dine in her
+own room after this, as apparently it was only at dinner that this
+"creature" made his appearance.
+
+Farmer Hartley had been very silent since he came in, but now he seemed
+to feel that he must make an effort to be sociable, so he said kindly,
+though gravely,--
+
+"I see ye're lookin' at that old dish, Huldy. 'Tis a curus old piece,
+'n' that's a fact. Kin ye read the motter on it?"
+
+Hilda had not been _looking_ at the dish, though her eyes had been
+unconsciously fixed upon it, and she now bent forward to examine it. It
+was an oblong platter, of old blue and white crockery. In the middle
+(which was now visible, as the "creature" had just transferred the last
+potato to his own plate, stabbing it with his knife for that purpose)
+was a quaint representation of a mournful-looking couple, clad in
+singularly ill-fitting aprons of fig-leaves. The man was digging with a
+spade, while the woman sat at a spinning-wheel placed dangerously near
+the edge of the deep ditch which her husband had already dug. Round the
+edge ran an inscription, which, after some study, Hilda made out to be
+the old distich:
+
+     "When Adam delved, and Eve span,
+      Where was then the gentleman?"
+
+Hilda burst out laughing in spite of her self.
+
+"Oh, it is wonderful!" she cried. "Who ever heard of Eve with a
+spinning-wheel? Where did this come from, Farmer Hartley? I am sure it
+must have a history."
+
+"Wa-al," said the farmer, smiling, "I d'no ez 't' hes so to speak a
+hist'ry, an' yit there's allays somethin' amoosin' to me about that
+platter. My father was a sea-farin' man most o' his life, an' only came
+to the farm late in life, 'count of his older brother dyin', as owned
+it. Well, he'd picked up a sight o' queer things in his voyages, father
+had; he kep' some of 'em stowed away in boxes, and brought 'em out from
+time to time, ez he happened to think of 'em. Wa-al, we young uns growed
+up (four of us there was, all boys, and likely boys too, if I do say
+it), and my brother Simon, who was nex' to me, he went to college. He
+was a clever chap, Simon was, an' nothin' would do for _him_ but he must
+be a gentleman.
+
+"'Jacob kin stick to the farm an' the mill; if he likes,' says he, 'an'
+Tom kin go to sea, an' William kin be a minister,--'t's all he's good
+fer, I reckon; but _I'm_ goin' ter be a _gentleman_!' says Simon. He
+said it in father's hearin' one day, an' father lay back in his cheer
+an' laughed; he was allays laughin', father was. An' then he went off
+upstairs, an' we heard him rummagin' about among his boxes up in the
+loft-chamber. We dassn't none of us tech them boxes, we boys, though we
+warn't afeard of nothin' else in the world, only father. Presently he
+comes down again, still a-laughin', an' kerryin' that platter in his
+hand. He sets it down afore Simon, an' says he, 'Wealthy,' says he (that
+was my mother), 'Wealthy,' says he, 'let Simon have his victuals off o'
+this platter every day, d'ye hear? The' ain't none other that's good
+enough for him!' an' then he laughed again, till he fairly shook, an'
+Simon looked black as thunder, an' took his hat an' went out. An' so
+after Simon went to college, every time he come home for vacation and
+set down to table with his nose kind o' turned up, like he was too good
+to set with his own kith and kin, father 'ud go an git the old blue
+platter and set it afore him, an' say, 'Here's _your_ dish, Simon; been
+diggin' any lately, my son?' and then lay back in his cheer and laugh."
+
+"And did Simon become--a--a gentleman?" asked Hilda, taking her own
+little lesson very meekly, in her desire to know more.
+
+Farmer Hartley's brow clouded instantly, and the smile vanished from his
+lips. "Poor Simon!" he said, sadly. "He might ha' been anythin' he
+liked, if he'd lived and--been fortunate."
+
+"Simon Hartley is dead, Hilda dear," interposed Dame Hartley, gently;
+"he died some years ago. Will you have some of your own currants, my
+dear?--Hilda has been helping me a great deal, Father," she added,
+addressing her husband. "I don't know how I should have got all my
+currants picked without her help."
+
+"Has she so?" exclaimed the farmer, fixing his keen gray eyes on the
+girl. "Waal! waal! to think o' that! Why, we sh'll hev her milkin' that
+cow soon, after all; hey, Huldy?"
+
+Hildegarde looked up bravely, with a little smile. "I will try," she
+said, cheerfully, "if you will risk the milk, Farmer Hartley."
+
+The old farmer returned her smile with one so bright and kind and genial
+that somehow the ice bent, then cracked, and then broke. The old Hilda
+shrank into so small a space that there was really very little left of
+her, and the new Hilda rose from table feeling that she had gained a new
+friend.
+
+So it came to pass that about an hour later our heroine was walking
+beside the farmer on the way to the barnyard, talking merrily, and
+swinging the basket which she was going to fill with eggs. "But how
+shall I find them," she asked, "if the hens hide them away so
+carefully?"
+
+"Oh, you'll hear 'em scrattlin' round!" replied the farmer. "They're
+gret fools, hens are,--greter than folks, as a rule; an' that is sayin'
+a good deal."
+
+They crossed the great sunny barn-yard, and paused at the barn-door,
+while Hilda looked in with delight. A broad floor, big enough for a
+ballroom, with towering walls of fragrant hay on either side reaching
+up to the rafters; great doors open at the farther end, showing a snatch
+of blue, radiant sky, and a lovely wood-road winding away into deep
+thickets of birch and linden; dusty, golden, cobwebby sunbeams slanting
+down through the little windows, and touching the tossed hay-piles into
+gold; and in the middle, hanging by iron chains from the great central
+beam, a swing, almost big enough for a giant,--such was the barn at
+Hartley Farm; as pleasant a place, Hilda thought, as she had ever seen.
+
+"Waal, Huldy, I'll leave ye heer," said the farmer; "ye kin find yer way
+home, I reckon."
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed!" said Hilda. "But stop one moment, please, Farmer
+Hartley. I want to know--will you please--may I teach Bubble Chirk a
+little?" The farmer gave a low whistle of surprise; but Hilda went on
+eagerly: "I found him studying, this morning, while he was weeding the
+garden,--oh! studying so hard, and yet not neglecting his work for a
+minute. He seems a very bright boy, and it is a pity he should not have
+a good education. Could you spare him, do you think, for an hour every
+day?" She stopped, while the farmer looked at her with a merry twinkle
+in his eye.
+
+"You teach Bubble Chirk!" he said. "Why, what would your fine friends
+say to that, Miss Huldy? Bubble ain't nothin' but a common farm-boy, if
+he _is_ bright; an' I ain't denyin' that he is."
+
+"I don't know what they would say," said Hildegarde, blushing hotly,
+"and I don't care, either! I know what mamma would do in my place; and
+so do you, Farmer Hartley!" she added, with a little touch of
+indignation.
+
+"Waal, I reckon I do!" said Farmer Hartley. "And I know who looks like
+her mother, this minute, though I never thought she would. Yes!" he
+said, more seriously, "you shall teach Bubble Chirk, my gal; and it's my
+belief 'twill bring you a blessin' as well as him. Ye are yer mother's
+darter, after all. Shall I give ye a swing now, before I go; or are ye
+too big to swing!"
+
+"I--don't--know!" said Hildegarde, eying the swing wistfully. "Am I too
+big, I wonder?"
+
+"Yer ma warn't, when she was here three weeks ago!" said the farmer. "She
+just sot heer and took a good solid swing, for the sake of old times,
+she said."
+
+"Then I will take one for the sake of new times!" cried Hilda, running
+to the swing and seating herself on its broad, roomy seat. "For the sake
+of this new time, which I know is going to be a happy one, give me three
+_good_ pushes, please, Farmer Hartley, and then I can take care of
+myself."
+
+One! two! three! up goes Queen Hildegarde, up and up, among the dusty,
+cobwebby sunbeams, which settle like a crown upon her fair head. Down
+with a rush, through the sweet, hay-scented air; then up again,
+startling the swallows from under the eaves, and making the staid and
+conservative old hens frantic with anxiety. Up and down, in broad, free
+sweeps, growing slower now, as the farmer left her and went to his work.
+How perfect it was! Did the world hold anything else so delightful as
+swinging in a barn? She began to sing, for pure joy, a little song that
+her mother had made for her when she was a little child, and used to
+swing in the garden at home. And Farmer Hartley, with his hand on the
+brown heifer's back, paused with a smile and a sigh as he heard the
+girl's sweet fresh voice ring out gladly from the old barn. This was the
+song she sang:--
+
+     If I were a fairy king
+       (Swinging high, swinging low),
+     I would give to you a ring
+       (Swinging, oh!)
+     With a diamond set so bright
+     That the shining of its light
+     Should make morning of the night
+       (Swinging high, swinging low)--
+     Should make morning of the night
+       (Swinging, oh!).
+
+     On each ringlet as it fell
+       (Swinging high, swinging low)
+     I would tie a golden bell
+       (Swinging, oh!);
+     And the golden bells would chime
+     In a little merry rhyme,
+     In the merry morning time
+       (Swinging high, swinging low)--
+     In the happy morning time
+       (Swinging, oh!).
+
+     You should wear a satin gown
+       (Swinging high, swinging low),
+     All with ribbons falling down
+       (Swinging, oh!).
+     And your little twinkling feet,
+     O my Pretty and my Sweet!
+     Should be shod with silver neat
+       (Swinging high, swinging low)--
+     Shod with silver slippers neat
+       (Swinging, oh!).
+
+     But I'm not a fairy, Pet
+       (Swinging high, swinging low),
+     Am not even a king, as yet
+       (Swinging, oh!).
+     So all that I can do
+     Is to kiss your little shoe,
+     And to make a queen of you
+       (Swinging high, swinging low),
+     Make a fairy queen of you
+       (Swinging, oh!).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+HARTLEY'S GLEN.
+
+
+How many girls, among all the girls who may read this little book, have
+seen with their own eyes Hartley's Glen? Not one, perhaps, save Brynhild
+and the Rosicrucian, for whom the book is written. But the others must
+try to see it with my eyes, for it is a fair place and a sweet as any on
+earth. Behind the house, and just under the brow of the little hill that
+shelters it, a narrow path dips down to the right, and goes along for a
+bit, with a dimpled clover-meadow on the one hand, and a stone wall, all
+warm with golden and red-brown lichens, on the other. Follow this, and
+you come to a little gateway, beyond which is a thick plantation of
+larches, with one grim old red cedar keeping watch over them. If he
+regards you favorably, you may pass on, down the narrow path that winds
+among the larches, whose feathery finger-tips brush your cheek and try
+to hold you back, as if they willed not that you should go farther, to
+see the wonders which they can never behold.
+
+But you leave them behind, and come out into the sunshine, in a little
+green glade which might be the ballroom of the fairy queen. On your
+right, gleaming through clumps of alder and black birch, is a pond,--the
+home of cardinal flowers and gleaming jewel-weed; a little farther on, a
+thicket of birch and maple, from which comes a musical sound of falling
+water. Follow this sound, keeping to the path, which winds away to the
+left. Stop! now you may step aside for a moment, and part the heavy
+hanging branches, and look, where the water falls over a high black
+wall, into a sombre pool, shut in by fantastic rocks, and shaded from
+all sunshine by a dense fringe of trees. This is the milldam, and the
+pond above is no natural one, but the enforced repose and outspreading
+of a merry brown brook, which now shows its true nature, and escaping
+from the gloomy pool, runs scolding and foaming down through a
+wilderness of rocks and trees. You cannot follow it there,--though I
+have often done so in my barefoot days,--so come back to the path again.
+There are pines overhead now, and the ground is slippery with the fallen
+needles, and the air is sweet--ah! how sweet!--with their warm
+fragrance. See! here is the old mill itself, now disused and falling to
+decay. Here the path becomes a little precipice, and you must scramble
+as best you can down two or three rough steps, and round the corner of
+the ruined mill. This is a millstone, this great round thing like a
+granite cheese, half buried in the ground; and here is another, which
+makes a comfortable seat, if you are tired.
+
+But there is a fairer resting-place beyond. Round this one more corner,
+now, and down,--carefully, carefully!--down this long stairway, formed
+of rough slabs of stone laid one below the other. Shut your eyes now for
+a moment, and let me lead you forward by the hand. And now--now open the
+eyes wide, wide, and look about you. In front, and under the windows of
+the old mill, the water comes foaming and rushing down over a rocky fall
+some sixty feet high, and leaps merrily into a second pool. No sombre,
+black gulf this, like the one above, but a lovely open circle, half in
+broad sunshine, half dappled with the fairy shadows of the boughs and
+ferns that bend lovingly over it. So the little brook is no longer
+angry, but mingles lovingly with the deep water of the pool, and then
+runs laughing and singing along the glen on its way down to the sea. On
+one side of this glen the bank rises abruptly some eighty feet, its
+sides clothed with sturdy birches which cling as best they may to the
+rocky steep. On the other stretches the little valley, a narrow strip of
+land, but with turf as fine as the Queen's lawn, and trees that would
+proudly grace Her Majesty's park,--tall Norway firs, raising their
+stately forms and pointing their long dark fingers sternly at the
+intruders on their solitude; graceful birches; and here and there a
+whispering larch or a nodding pine. The other wall of the valley, or
+glen, is less precipitous, and its sides are densely wooded, and fringed
+with barberry bushes and climbing eglantine.
+
+And between these two banks, and over this green velvet carpet, and
+among these dark fir-trees,--ah! how the sun shines. Nowhere else in the
+whole land does he shine so sweetly, for he knows that his time there is
+short, and that the high banks will shut him out from that green,
+pleasant place long before he must say good-night to the more
+common-place fields and hill-sides. So here his beams rest right
+lovingly, making royal show of gold on the smooth grass, and of diamonds
+on the running water, and of opals and topazes and beryls where the
+wave comes curling over the little fall.
+
+And now, amid all this pomp and play of sun and of summer, what is this
+dash of blue that makes a strange, though not a discordant, note in our
+harmony of gold and green? And what is that round, whitish object which
+is bobbing up and down with such singular energy? Why, the blue is
+Hildegarde's dress, if you must know; and the whitish object is the head
+of Zerubbabel Chirk, scholar and devotee; and the energy with which said
+head is bobbing is the energy of determination and of study. Hilda and
+Bubble have made themselves extremely comfortable under the great
+ash-tree which stands in the centre of the glen. The teacher has curled
+herself up against the roots of the tree, and has a piece of work in her
+hands; but her eyes are wandering dreamily over the lovely scene before
+her, and she looks as if she were really too comfortable to move even a
+finger. The scholar lies at her feet, face downwards, his chin
+propped on his hands, his head bobbing up and down. The silence is only
+broken by the noise of the waterfall and the persistent chirping of some
+very cheerful little bird.
+
+Presently the boy raised his head and cried joyfully, "I've fetched him,
+Miss Hildy! I know it, now, jest like pie!" Whereupon he stood up, and
+assuming a military attitude, submitted to a severe geographical
+catechising, and came off with flying colors.
+
+"That was a very good recitation," said Hilda, approvingly, as she laid
+the book down. "You shall have another ballad to-day as a reward. But,
+Bubble," she added, rather seriously, "I do wish you would not use so
+much slang. It is so senseless! Now what did you mean by saying 'just
+like pie,' in speaking of your lesson just now?"
+
+"Oh! come now, Miss Hildy!" said Bubble, bashfully, "the' ain't no use
+in your tellin' me you don't know what pie is."
+
+"Of course I know what pie is, you silly boy!" said Hilda, laughing.
+"But what has pie to do with your geography lesson?"
+
+"That's so!" murmured the boy, apologetically. "That's a fact, ain't it!
+I won't say 'like pie' no more; I'll say 'like blazes,' instead."
+
+"You needn't say 'like' anything!" cried Hilda, laughing again; "just
+say, I know my lesson 'well,' or 'thoroughly.' There are plenty of
+_real_ words, Bubble, that have as much meaning as the slang ones, and
+often a great deal more."
+
+"That's so," said Bubble, with an air of deep conviction. "I'll try not
+to talk no more slang, Miss Hildy. I will, I swan!"
+
+"But, Bubble, you must not say 'I swan' either; that is _abominable_
+slang."
+
+Bubble looked very blank. "Why, what _shall_ I say?" he asked, simply.
+"Pink won't let me say 'I swow,' 'cause it's vulgar; an' if I say 'by'
+anything, Ma says it's swearin',--an' I can't swear, nohow!"
+
+"Of course not," said Hilda. "But why _must_ you say anything,
+Bubble,--anything of that sort, I mean?"
+
+"Oh!" said the boy, "I d' 'no 's I kin say ezackly _why_, Miss Hildy;
+but--but--wal, I swan! I mean, I--I don't mean I swan--but--there now!
+You see how 'tis, Miss Hildy. Things don't seem to hev no taste to 'em,
+without you say _somethin'_."
+
+"Let me think," said Hilda. "Perhaps I can think of something that will
+sound better."
+
+"I might say, 'Gee Whittekers!'" suggested Bubble, brightening up a
+little. "I know some fellers as says that."
+
+"I don't think that would do," replied Hilda, decidedly. "What does it
+mean?"
+
+"Don't mean nothing as I knows on," said the boy; "but it sounds kind o'
+hahnsome, don't it?"
+
+Hilda shook her head with a smile. She did not think "Gee Whittekers" a
+"hahnsome" expression.
+
+"Bubble," she said after a few moments' reflection, during which her
+scholar watched her anxiously, "I have an idea. If you _must_ say
+'something,' beside what you actually have to say, let it be something
+that will remind you of your lessons; then it may help you to remember
+them. Instead of Gee--what is it?--Gee Whittekers, say Geography, or
+Spelling, or Arithmetic; and instead of 'I swan,' say 'I study!' What do
+you think of this plan?"
+
+"Fustrate!" exclaimed Bubble, nodding his head enthusiastically. "I like
+fustrate! Ge-_o_graphy! Why, that sounds just like pie! I--I don't mean
+that, Miss Hildy. I didn't mean to say it, nohow! It kind o' slipped
+out, ye know." Bubble paused, and hung his head in much confusion.
+
+"Never mind!" said Hilda, kindly. "Of course you cannot make the change
+all at once, Bubble. But little by little, if you really think about it,
+you will bring it about. Next week," she added, "I think we must begin
+upon grammar. You are doing very well indeed in spelling and geography,
+and pretty well in arithmetic; but your grammar, Bubble, is simply
+frightful."
+
+"Be it?" said Bubble, resignedly. "I want to know!"
+
+"And now," said the young instructress, rising, and shaking out her
+crumpled frock, "that is enough for to-day, Bubble. We must be going
+home soon; but first, I want to take a peep at the lower part of the old
+mill, that you told me about yesterday. You have been in there, you say?
+And how did you get in?"
+
+"I'll show ye!" cried Bubble, springing up with alacrity, and leading
+the way towards the mill. "I'll show ye the very place, Miss Hildy.
+'Tain't easy to get in, and 'tain't no place for a lady, nohow; but I
+kin git in, jist like--like 'rithmetic!"
+
+"Bravo, Bubble!" said Hilda, laughing merrily. "That is very well for a
+beginning. How long is it since the mill was used?" she asked, looking
+up at the frowning walls of rough, dark stone, covered with moss and
+lichens.
+
+"Farmer Hartley's gran'f'ther was the last miller," replied Bubble
+Chirk. "My father used to say he could just remember him, standin' at
+the mill-door, all white with flour, an' rubbin' his hands and laughin',
+jes' the way Farmer does. He was a good miller, father said, an' made
+the mill pay well. But his eldest son, that kem after him, warn't no
+great shakes, an' he let the mill go to wrack and ruin, an' jes' stayed
+on the farm. An' then he died, an' Cap'n Hartley came (that's the
+farmer's father, ye know), an' he was kind o' crazy, and didn't care
+about the mill either, an' so there it stayed.
+
+"This way, Miss Hildy!" added the boy, breaking off suddenly, and
+plunging into the tangled thicket of shrubs and brambles that hid the
+base of the mill. "Thar! ye see that hole? That's whar I get in. Wait
+till I clear away the briers a bit! Thar! now ye kin look in."
+
+The "hole" was a square opening, a couple of feet from the ground, and
+large enough for a person of moderate size to creep through. Hildegarde
+stooped down and looked in. At first she saw nothing but utter
+blackness; but presently her eyes became accustomed to the place, and
+the feeble light which struggled in past her through the opening,
+revealed strange objects which rose here and there from the vast pit of
+darkness,--fragments of rusty iron, bent and twisted into unearthly
+shapes; broken beams, their jagged ends sticking out like stiffly
+pointing fingers; cranks, and bits of hanging chain; and on the side
+next the water, a huge wheel, rising apparently out of the bowels of the
+earth, since the lower part of it was invisible. A cold, damp air seemed
+to rise from the earth. Hilda shivered and drew back, looking rather
+pale. "What a _dreadful_ place!" she cried. "It looks like a dungeon of
+the Inquisition. I think you were very brave to go in there, Bubble. I
+am sure _I_ should not dare to go; it looks so spectral and frightful."
+
+"Hy Peters stumped me to go," said Bubble, simply, "so o' course I went.
+Most of the boys dassent. And it ain't bad, after the fust time. They do
+say it's haunted; but I ain't never seed nothin'."
+
+"Haunted!" cried Hilda, drawing back still farther from the black
+opening. "By--by what, Bubble?"
+
+"Cap'n's ghost!" replied the boy. "He used to go rooklin' round in there
+when he was alive, folks say, and some thinks his sperit haunts there
+now."
+
+"Oh, nonsense!" said Hildegarde, with a laugh which did not sound quite
+natural. "Of course you don't believe any such foolishness as that,
+Bubble. But what did the old--old gentleman--want there when he was
+alive? I can't imagine any one going in there for pleasure."
+
+"Dunno, I'm sure!" replied Bubble. "Father, he come down here one day,
+after blackberries, when he was a boy. He hearn a noise in there, an'
+went an' peeked in, an' there was the ol' Cap'n pokin' about with his
+big stick in the dirt. He looked up an' saw father, an' came at him with
+his stick up, roarin' like a mad bull, father said. An' he cut an' run,
+father did, an' he hearn the ol' Cap'n laughin' after him as if he'd
+have a fit. Crazy as a loon, I reckon the Cap'n was, though none of his
+folks thought so, Ma says."
+
+He let the wild briers fly back about the gloomy opening, and they
+stepped back on the smooth greensward again. Ah, how bright and warm the
+sunshine was, after that horrible black pit! Hilda shivered again at the
+thought of it, and then laughed at her own cowardice. She turned and
+gazed at the waterfall, creaming and curling over the rocks, and making
+such a merry, musical jest of its tumble into the pool. "Oh, lovely,
+lovely!" she cried, kissing her hand to it. "Bubble, do you know that
+Hartley's Glen is without exception the most beautiful place in the
+world?"
+
+"No, miss! Be it really?" asked Zerubbabel, seriously. "I allays thought
+'twas kind of a sightly gully, but I didn't know't was all that."
+
+"Well, it is," said Hilda. "It is all that, and more; and I love it! But
+now, Bubble," she added, "we must make haste, for the farmer will be
+wanting you, and I have a dozen things to do before tea."
+
+"Yes, miss," said Bubble, but without his usual alacrity.
+
+Hilda saw a look of disappointment in his honest blue eyes, and asked
+what was the matter. "I ain't had my ballid!" said Zerubbabel, sadly.
+
+"Why, you poor lad, so you haven't!" said Hildegarde. "But you shall
+have it; I will tell it to you as we walk back to the farm. Which one
+will you have,--or shall I tell you a new one?"
+
+The blue eyes sparkled with the delight of anticipation. "Oh, please!"
+he cried; "the one about the bold Buckle-oh!"
+
+Hilda laughed merrily. "The bauld Buccleugh?" she repeated. "Oh! you
+mean 'Kinmont Willie.' Yes, indeed, you shall have that. It is one of my
+favorite ballads, and I am glad you like it."
+
+"Oh, I tell yer!" cried Bubble. "When he whangs the table, and says do
+they think his helmet's an old woman's bunnit, an' all the rest of
+it,--I tell ye that's _some_, Miss Hildy!"
+
+"You have the spirit of the verse, Bubble," said Hilda, laughing softly;
+"but the words are not _quite_ right." And she repeated the splendid,
+ringing words of Buccleugh's indignant outcry:
+
+     "Oh! is my basnet a widow's curch,
+      Or my lance a wand o' the willow-tree,
+      Or my arm a lady's lily hand,
+      That an English lord should lightly me?
+
+     "And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
+      Against the truce of Border tide,
+      And forgotten that the bauld Buccleugh
+      Is warden here o' the Scottish side?
+
+     "And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie,
+      Withouten either dread or fear,
+      And forgotten that the bauld Buccleugh
+      Can back a steed or shake a spear?"
+
+Zerubbabel Chirk fairly danced up and down in his excitement "Oh! but
+begin again at the beginning, _please_, Miss Hildy," he cried.
+
+So Hilda, nothing loth, began at the beginning; and as they walked
+homeward, recited the whole of the noble old ballad, which if any
+girl-reader does not know, she may find it in any collection of Scottish
+ballads.
+
+"And the best of it is, Bubble," said Hilda, "that it is all
+true,--every word of it; or nearly every word."
+
+"I'll bet it is!" cried Bubble, still much excited. "They couldn't make
+lies sound like that, ye know! You kind o' _know_ it's true, and it goes
+right through yer, somehow. When did it happen, Miss Hildy?"
+
+"Oh! a long time ago," said Hildegarde; "near the end of the sixteenth
+century. I forget just the very year, but it was in the reign of Queen
+Elizabeth. She was very angry at Buccleugh's breaking into Carlisle
+Castle, which was an English castle, you see, and carrying off Lord
+Scroope's prisoner; and she sent word to King James of Scotland that he
+must give up Buccleugh to her to punish as she saw fit. King James
+refused at first, for he said that Lord Scroope had been the first to
+break the truce by carrying off Kinmont Willie in time of peace; but at
+length he was obliged to yield, for Queen Elizabeth was very powerful,
+and always would have her own way. So the 'bauld Buccleugh' was sent to
+London and brought before the great, haughty English queen. But he was
+just as haughty as she, and was not a bit afraid of her. She looked down
+on him from her throne (she was very stately, you know, and she wore a
+crown, and a great stiff ruff, and her dress was all covered with gold
+and precious stones), and asked him how he dared to undertake such a
+desperate and presumptuous enterprise. And Buccleugh--O Bubble, I
+always liked this so much!--Buccleugh just looked her full in the face,
+and said, 'What is it a man dare not do?' Now Queen Elizabeth liked
+nothing so much as a brave man, and this bold answer pleased her. She
+turned to one of her ministers and said, 'With ten thousand such men our
+brother in Scotland might shake the firmest throne in Europe.' And so
+she let him go, just because he was so brave and so handsome."
+
+Bubble Chirk drew a long breath, and his eyes flashed. "I wish't I'd ben
+alive then!" he said.
+
+"Why, Bubble?" asked Hilda, much amused; "what would you have done?"
+
+"I'd ha' killed Lord Scroope!" he cried,--"him and the hull kit of 'em.
+Besides," he added, "I'd like t' ha' lived then jest ter see
+_him_,--jest ter see the bold Buckle-oh; that's what _I_ call a man!"
+And Queen Hildegardis fully agreed with him.
+
+They had nearly reached the house when the boy asked: "If that king was
+her brother, why did she treat him so kind o' ugly? My sister don't act
+that way."
+
+"What--oh, you mean Queen Elizabeth!" said Hilda, laughing. "King James
+was not her brother, Bubble. They were cousins, but nothing more."
+
+"You _said_ she said 'brother,'" persisted the boy.
+
+"So I did," replied Hilda. "You see, it was the fashion, and is still,
+for kings and queens to _call_ each other brother and sister, whether
+they were really related to each other or not."
+
+"But I thought they was always fightin'," objected Bubble. "I've got a
+hist'ry book to home, an' in that it says they fit like time whenever
+they got a chance."
+
+"So they did," said Hilda. "But they called each other 'our royal
+brother' and 'our beloved sister;' and they were always paying each
+other fine compliments, and saying how much they loved each other, even
+in the middle of a war, when they were fighting as hard as they could."
+
+"Humph!" said Bubble, "nice kind o folks they must ha' been. Well, I
+must go, Miss Hildy," he added, reluctantly. "I've had a splendid time,
+an' I'm _real_ obleeged to ye. I sh'll try to larn that story by heart,
+'bout the bold Buckle-oh. I want to tell it to Pink! _She_'d like
+it--oh, my! wouldn't she like it, jest like--I mean jest like spellin'!
+Good by, Miss Hildy!" And Bubble ran off to bring home the cows, his
+little heart swelling high with scorn of kings and queens, and with a
+fervor of devotion to Walter Scott, first lord of Buccleugh.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+PINK CHIRK.
+
+
+One lovely morning Hildegarde stood at the back door, feeding the fowls.
+She wore her brown gingham frock with the yellow daisies on it, and the
+daisy-wreathed hat, and in her hands she held a great yellow bowl full
+of yellow corn. So bright a picture she made that Farmer Hartley,
+driving the oxen afield, stopped for pure pleasure to look at her.
+Around her the ducks and hens were fighting and squabbling, quacking,
+clucking, and gobbling, and she flung the corn in golden showers on
+their heads and backs, making them nearly frantic with greedy anxiety.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE FLUNG THE CORN IN GOLDEN SHOWERS ON THEIR HEADS."]
+
+"Wal, Huldy," said the farmer, leaning against Bright's massive side,
+"you look pooty slick in that gown, I must say. I reckon thar ain't no
+sech gown as _that_ on Fifth Avenoo, hey?"
+
+"Indeed, I don't believe there is, Farmer Hartley," replied Hilda,
+laughing merrily; "at least I never saw one like it. It _is_ pretty, I
+think, and _so_ comfortable! And where are you going this morning with
+the mammoths?"
+
+"Down to the ten-acre lot," replied the farmer. "The men are makin' hay
+thar to-day. Jump into the riggin' and come along," he added. "Ye kin
+hev a little ride, an' see the hay-makin'. Pooty sight 'tis, to my
+thinkin'."
+
+"May I?" cried Hilda, eagerly. "I am sure these fowls have had enough.
+Go away now, you greedy creatures! There, you shall have all there is!"
+and she emptied the bowl over the astonished dignitaries of the
+barn-yard, laid it down on the settle in the porch, and jumped gayly
+into the "rigging," as the great hay-cart was called.
+
+"Haw, Bright! hoish, Star!" said the farmer, touching one and then the
+other of the great black oxen lightly with his goad. The huge beasts
+swayed from side to side, and finally succeeded in getting themselves
+and the cart in motion, while the farmer walked leisurely beside them,
+tapping and poking them occasionally, and talking to them in that mystic
+language which only oxen and their drivers understand. Down the sweet
+country lane they went, with the willows hanging over them, and the
+daisies and buttercups and meadow-sweet running riot all over the banks.
+Hilda stood up in the cart and pulled off twigs from the willows as she
+passed under them, and made garlands, which the farmer obediently put
+over the oxen's necks. She hummed little snatches of song, and chatted
+gayly with her kind old host; for the world was very fair, and her heart
+was full of summer and sunshine.
+
+"And have you always lived here, Farmer Hartley?" she asked. "All your
+life, I mean?"
+
+"No, not all my life," replied the farmer, "though pooty nigh it. I was
+ten year old when my uncle died, and father left sea-farin', and kem
+home to the farm to live. Before that we'd lived in different places,
+movin' round, like. We was at sea a good deal, sailin' with father when
+he went on pleasant voyages, to the West Indies, or sich. But sence then
+I ain't ben away much. I don't seem to find no pleasanter place than the
+old farm, somehow."
+
+"I don't believe there _is_ any pleasanter place in the world!" said
+Hilda, warmly. "I am sure I have never been so happy anywhere as I have
+here."
+
+Farmer Hartley looked up with a twinkle in his eye. "Ye've changed yer
+views some, Huldy, hain't ye, sence the fust day ye kem heer? I didn't
+never think, then, as I'd be givin' you rides in the hay-riggin', sech a
+fine young lady as you was."
+
+Hilda gave him an imploring glance, while the blood mounted to her
+temples. "Please, Farmer Hartley," she said in a low voice, "please try
+to forget that first day. It isn't my views that have changed," she
+added, "it is I myself. I don't--I really don't _think_ I am the same
+girl who came here a month ago."
+
+"No, my gal," said the farmer, heartily, "I don't think ye are." He
+walked along in silence for a few minutes, and then said, "'Tis curus
+how folks kin sometimes change 'emselves, one way or the other. 'Tain't
+so with critturs; 't least so fur's I've obsarved. The way they're born,
+that way they'll stay. Now look at them oxen! When they was young
+steers, hardly more'n calves, I began to train them critturs. An' from
+the very fust go-off they tuk their cue an' stuck to it. Star, thar,
+would lay out, and shake his head, an' pull for all he was wuth, as if
+there was nothin' in the world to do _but_ pull; and Bright, he'd wait
+till Star was drawin' good an' solid, an' then he'd as much as say, 'Oh!
+you kin pull all that, kin ye? Well, stick to it, my boy, an' I'll
+manage to trifle along with the rest o' the load.' Wo-_hoish_, Star!
+haw, Bright! git up, ye old humbug! You're six year old now, an' you
+ain't changed a mite in four years, though I've drove you stiddy, and
+tried to spare the other every time."
+
+The green lane broke off suddenly, and such a blaze of sunlight flashed
+upon them that Hilda involuntarily raised her hand to shield her eyes.
+The great meadow lay open before them, an undulating plain of gold. The
+haycocks looked dull and gray-green upon it; but where the men were
+tossing the hay with their long wooden rakes, it flashed pale-golden in
+the sunlight, and filled the air with flying gleams. Also the air was
+filled with the sweetness of the hay, and every breath was a delight.
+Hilda stood speechless with pleasure, and the old farmer watched her
+glowing face with kindly gratification.
+
+"Pooty sightly, ain't it?" he said. And then, in a graver tone, and
+removing his battered straw hat, "I don't never seem to see the glory
+of the Lord no plainer than in a hay-field, a day like this. Yes, sir!
+if a man can't be a Christian on a farm in summer, he can't be it
+nowhere. Amen!" and Farmer Hartley put on his hat and proceeded
+straightway to business. "Now, Huldy," he said, "here ye be! I'm goin'
+to load up this riggin', an' ye kin stay round here a spell, if ye like,
+an' run home _when_ ye like. Ye kin find the way, I reckon?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" said Hilda; "yes, indeed! But I shall stay here for a while,
+and watch you. And mayn't I toss the hay too a little?"
+
+But her courage failed when she found that to do this she must mingle
+with the crowd of strange haymakers; and besides, among them she saw the
+clumsy form and shock head of Caliban, as she had secretly named the
+clownish and surly nephew of her good host. This fellow was the one
+bitter drop in Hilda's cup. Everything else she had learned to like, in
+the month which had passed since she came to Hartley's Glen. The farmer
+and his wife she loved as they deserved to be loved. The little
+maidservant was her adoring slave, and secretly sewed her boot-buttons
+on, and mended her stockings, as some small return for the lessons in
+crochet and fancy knitting that she had received from the skilful white
+fingers which were a perpetual marvel to her. But Simon Hartley remained
+what she had at first thought him,--a sullen, boorish churl. He was a
+malevolent churl too, Hildegarde thought; indeed she was sure of it. She
+had several times seen his eyes fixed on his uncle with a look of
+positive hatred; and though Farmer Hartley was persistently kind and
+patient with him, trying often to draw him into conversation, and make
+him join in the pleasant evening talks which they all enjoyed, his
+efforts were unsuccessful. The fellow came in, gobbled his food, and
+then went off, if his work was over, to hide himself in his own room.
+Hilda was quite sure that Nurse Lucy liked this oaf no better than she
+herself did, though the good woman never spoke impatiently or unkindly
+to him,--and indeed it would be difficult for any one to like him, she
+thought, except possibly his own mother.
+
+Our Queen took presently her seat on a right royal throne of fragrant
+hay, and gave herself up to the full delight of the summer morning, and
+of the "Field of the Cloth of Gold," as she had instantly named the
+shining yellow plain, which more prosaic souls knew as "the ten-acre
+lot." The hay rustled pleasantly as she nestled down in it, and made a
+little penthouse over her head, to keep off the keen, hot sun-arrows.
+There was a great oak-tree too, which partly shaded this favored
+haycock, and on one of its branches a squirrel came running out, and
+then sat up and looked at Hildegarde with bright, inquisitive eyes. A
+maiden, all brown and gold, on a golden haycock! What strange apparition
+was this? Had she come for acorns? Did she know about the four young
+ones in the snug little house in the hollow just above the first branch!
+Perhaps--dreadful thought!--she had heard of the marvellous beauty of
+the four young ones, and had come to steal them. "Chip!" whisk! and
+Madam Squirrel was off up the branch like a streak of brown lightning,
+with its tail up.
+
+Hilda laughed at the squirrel's alarm, and then turned her attention to
+a large green grasshopper who seemed to demand it. He had alighted on
+her knee, and now proceeded to exhibit his different points before her
+admiring gaze with singular gravity and deliberation. First he slowly
+opened his wings, to show the delicate silvery gauze of the under-wings;
+then as slowly closed them, demonstrating the perfect fit of his whole
+wing-costume and the harmony of its colors. He next extended one leg,
+calling her attention to its remarkable length and muscular
+proportions. Then, lest she should think he had but one, he extended
+the other; and then gave a vigorous hop with both of them, to show her
+that he did not really need wings, but could get on perfectly well
+without them. Finally he rubbed himself all over with his long antennae,
+and then, pointing them full at her, and gazing at her with calm and
+dispassionate eyes, he said plainly enough: "And now, Monster, what have
+_you_ to show _me_?"
+
+Hildegarde was wondering how she could best dispel the scorn with which
+this majestic insect evidently regarded her, when suddenly something new
+appeared on her gown,--something black, many-legged, hairy, most
+hideous; something which ran swiftly but stealthily, with a motion which
+sent a thrill of horror through her veins. She started up with a little
+shriek, shaking off the unlucky spider as if it had been the Black Death
+in concrete. Then she looked round with flaming cheeks, to see if her
+scream had been heard by the hay-makers. No, they were far away, and
+too busy to take heed of her. But the charm was broken. Queen Hildegarde
+had plenty of courage of a certain sort, but she could _not_ face a
+spider. The golden throne had become a "siege perilous," and she
+abdicated in favor of the grasshopper and his black and horrent visitor.
+
+What should she do now? The charm of the morning had made her idle and
+drowsy, and she did not feel like going home to help Nurse Lucy in
+making the butter, though she often did so with right good-will. She
+looked dreamily around, her eyes wandering here and there over the great
+meadow and the neat stone walls which bounded it. Presently she spied
+the chimneys and part of the red roof of a little cottage which peeped
+from a thick clump of trees just beyond the wall. Who lived in that
+cottage, Hilda wondered. Why should she not go and see? She was very
+thirsty, and there she might get a glass of water. Oh! perhaps it was
+Bubble's cottage, where he and his mother and his sister Pink lived. Now
+she thought of it, Bubble had told her that he lived "over beyont the
+ten-acre lot;" of course this must be the place. Slowly she walked
+across the meadow and climbed the wall, wondering a good deal about the
+people whom she was going to see. She had often meant to ask Bubble more
+about his sister with the queer name; but the lesson-hour was so short,
+and there were always so many questions for Bubble to ask and for her to
+answer besides the regular lesson, that she always forgot it till too
+late. Pink Chirk! what could a girl be like with such a name as that?
+Hilda fancied her a stout, buxom maiden, with very red cheeks and very
+black eyes--yes, certainly, the eyes must be black! Her hair--well, one
+could not be so sure about her hair; but there was no doubt about her
+wearing a pink dress and a blue checked apron. And she must be smiling,
+bustling, and energetic. Yes! Hilda had the picture of her complete in
+her mind. She wondered that this active, stirring girl never came up to
+the farm; but of course she must have a great deal of work to do at
+home.
+
+By this time Hildegarde had reached the cottage; and after a moment's
+hesitation she knocked softly at the green-painted door. No one came to
+open the door, but presently she heard a clear, pleasant voice from
+within saying, "Open the door and come in, please!" Following this
+injunction, she entered the cottage and found herself directly in the
+sitting-room, and face to face with its occupant. This was a girl of her
+own age, or perhaps a year older, who sat in a wheeled chair by the
+window. She was very fair, with almost flaxen hair, and frank, pleasant
+blue eyes. She was very pale, very thin; the hands that lay on her lap
+were almost transparent; but--she wore a pink calico dress and a blue
+checked apron. Who could this be? and whoever it was, why did she sit
+still when a visitor and a stranger came in? The pale girl made no
+attempt to rise, but she met Hilda's look of surprise and inquiry with a
+smile which broke like sunshine over her face, making it for the moment
+positively beautiful. "How do you do?" she said, holding out her thin
+hand. "I am sure you must be Miss Hilda Graham, and I am Bubble's sister
+Pink.
+
+[Illustration: "THE PALE GIRL MADE NO ATTEMPT TO RISE."]
+
+"Please sit down," she added. "I am so _very_ glad to see you. I have
+wanted again and again to thank you for all your kindness to my Bubble,
+but I didn't know when I should have a chance. Did Bubble show you the
+way?"
+
+Hildegarde was so astonished, so troubled, so dismayed that she hardly
+knew what she was saying or doing. She took the slender fingers in her
+own for an instant, and then sat down, saying hastily: "Oh, no! I--I
+found my way alone. I was not sure of its being your cottage, though I
+thought it must be from what Bubble told me." She paused; and then,
+unable to keep back longer the words which sprang to her lips, she said:
+"I fear you have been ill, you are so pale. I hope it has not been
+serious. Bubble did not tell me--"
+
+Pink Chirk looked up with her bright, sweet smile. "Oh, no! I have not
+been ill," she said. "I am always like this. I cannot walk, you know,
+but I am very well indeed."
+
+"You cannot walk?" stammered Hilda.
+
+The girl saw her look of horror, and a faint color stole into her wan
+cheek. "Did not Bubble tell you?" she asked, gently; and then, as Hilda
+shook her head, "It is such a matter of course to him," she said; "he
+never thinks about it, I suppose, dear little fellow. I was run over
+when I was three years old, and I have never been able to walk since."
+
+Hildegarde could not speak. The thought of anything so dreadful, so
+overwhelming as this, coming so suddenly, too, upon her, seemed to take
+away her usually ready speech, and she was dumb, gazing at the cheerful
+face before her with wide eyes of pity and wonderment. But Pink Chirk
+did not like to be pitied, as a rule; and she almost laughed at her
+visitor's horror-stricken face.
+
+"You mustn't look so!" she cried. "It's very kind of you to be sorry,
+but it isn't as if I were really _ill_, you know. I can _almost_ stand
+on one foot,--that is, I can bear enough weight on it to get from my bed
+to my chair without help. That is a _great_ thing! And then when I am
+once in my chair, why I can go almost anywhere. Farmer Hartley gave me
+this chair," she added, looking down at it, and patting the arm
+tenderly, as if it were a living friend; "isn't it a beauty?"
+
+It was a pretty chair, made of cherry wood, with cushions of
+gay-flowered chintz; and Hilda, finding her voice again, praised it
+warmly. "This is its summer dress," said Pink, her eyes sparkling with
+pleasure. "Underneath, the cushions are covered with soft crimson cloth,
+oh, so pretty, and so warm-looking! I am always glad when it's time to
+take the chintz covers off. And yet I am always glad to put them on
+again," she added, "for the chintz is pretty too, I think: and besides,
+I know then that summer is really come."
+
+"You like summer best?" asked Hilda.
+
+"Oh, yes!" she replied. "In winter, of course, I can't go out; and
+sometimes it seems a little long, when Bubble is away all day,--not
+very, you know, but just a little. But in summer, oh, then I am so
+happy! I can go all round the place by myself, and sit out in the
+garden, and feed the chickens, and take care of the flowers. And then on
+Sunday Bubble always gives me a good ride along the road. My chair moves
+very easily,--only see!" She gave a little push, and propelled herself
+half way across the little room.
+
+At this moment the inner door opened, and Mrs. Chirk appeared,--a
+slender, anxious-looking woman, with hair prematurely gray. She greeted
+Hilda with nervous cordiality, and thanked her earnestly for her
+kindness to Zerubbabel. "He ain't the same boy, Miss Graham," she said,
+"sence you begun givin' him lessons. He used to fret and worrit 'cause
+there warn't no school, and he couldn't ha' gone to it if there was.
+Pinkrosia learned him what she could; but we hain't many books, you see.
+But now! why that boy comes into the house singin' and spoutin' poetry
+at the top of his lungs,--jest as happy as a kitten with a spool. What
+was that he was shoutin' this mornin', Pinkrosia, when he scairt the old
+black hen nigh to death?"
+
+"'Charge for the golden lilies! Upon them with the lance!'" murmured
+Pink, with a smile.
+
+"Yes, that was it!" said Mrs. Chirk. "He was lookin' out of the window
+and pumpin' at the same time, an' spoutin' them verses too. And all of a
+sudden he cries out, 'Ther's the brood of dark My Hen, scratchin' up the
+sweet peas. Upon them with the lance!' And he lets go the pump-handle,
+and it flies up and hits the shelf and knocks off two plates and a cup,
+and Bubble, he's off with the mop-handle, chasin' the old black hen and
+makin' believe run her through, till she e'enamost died of fright. Well,
+there, it give me a turn; it reelly did!" She paused rather sadly,
+seeing that her hearers were both overcome with laughter.
+
+"I--I am very sorry, Mrs. Chirk, that the plates were broken," said
+Hilda; "but it must have been extremely funny. Poor old hen! she must
+have been frightened, certainly. Do you know," she added, "I think
+Bubble is a _remarkably_ bright boy. I am very sure that he will make a
+name for himself, if only he can have proper training."
+
+"Presume likely!" said Mrs. Chirk, with melancholy satisfaction. "His
+father was a _real_ smart man. There warn't no better hayin' hand in the
+county than Loammi Chirk. And I'm in hopes Zerubbabel will do as well,
+for he has a good friend in Farmer Hartley; no boy couldn't have a
+better."
+
+Eminence in the profession of "haying" was not precisely what Hilda had
+meant; but she said nothing.
+
+"And my poor girl here," Mrs. Chirk continued after a pause, "she sets
+in her cheer hay-times and other times. You've heard of her misfortune,
+Miss Graham?"
+
+Pink interposed quickly with a little laugh, though her brows contracted
+slightly, as if with pain. "Oh, yes, Mother dear!" she said; "Miss
+Graham has heard all about me, and knows what a _very_ important person
+I am. But where is the yarn that I was to wind for you? I thought you
+wanted to begin weaving this afternoon."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Hildegarde. "Never mind the yarn just now, Pink! I want
+to give you a little ride before I go back to the farm. May she go, Mrs.
+Chirk? It is such a beautiful day, I am sure the air will do her good.
+Would you like it, Pink?"
+
+Pink looked up with a flush of pleasure on her pale cheek. "Oh," she
+said, "would I like it! But it's too much for you to do, Miss Graham."
+
+"An' with that beautiful dress on too!" cried Mrs. Chirk. "You'd get it
+dusty on the wheel, I'm afraid. I don't think--"
+
+"Oh yes, you do!" cried Hilda, gayly, pushing the chair towards the
+door. "Bring her hat, please, Mrs. Chirk. I always have my own way!" she
+added, with a touch of the old imperiousness, "and I have quite set my
+heart on this."
+
+Mrs. Chirk meekly brought a straw sun-bonnet, and Hilda tied its strings
+under Pink's chin, every fibre within her mutely protesting against its
+extreme ugliness. "She shall not wear _that_ again," said she to
+herself, "if I can help it." But the sweet pale face looked out so
+joyously from the dingy yellow tunnel that the stern young autocrat
+relented. "After all, what does it matter?" she thought. "She would
+look like an angel, even with a real coal-scuttle on her head." And
+then she laughed at the thought of a black japanned scuttle crowning
+those fair locks; and Pink laughed because Hilda laughed; and so they
+both went laughing out into the sunshine.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE LETTER.
+
+
+"Nurse Lucy," said Hildegarde that evening, as they sat in the porch
+after tea, "why have you never told me about Pink Chirk,--about her
+being a cripple, I mean? I had no idea of it till I went to see her
+to-day. How terrible it is!"
+
+"I wonder that I haven't told you, dear!" replied Nurse Lucy, placidly.
+"I suppose I am so used to Pink as she is, I forget that she ever was
+like other people. She is a dear, good child,--his 'sermon,' Jacob calls
+her. He says that whenever he feels impatient or put out, he likes to go
+down and look at Pink, and hear her talk. 'It takes the crook right out
+of me!' he says. Poor Jacob!"
+
+"But how did it happen?" asked Hilda. "She says she was only three years
+when she--Oh, think of it, Nurse Lucy! It is too dreadful. Tell me how
+it happened."
+
+"Don't ask me, my dear!" said Dame Hartley, sadly. "Why should you hear
+anything so painful? It would only haunt your mind as it haunted mine
+for years after. The worst of it was, there was no need of it. Her
+mother was a young, flighty, careless girl, and she didn't look after
+her baby as she should have done. That is all you need know, Hilda, my
+dear! Poor Susan Chirk! it took the flightiness out of her, and made her
+the anxious, melancholy soul she has been ever since. Then Bubble was
+born, and soon after her husband died, and since then she has had a hard
+time to fend for herself. But Pink has never been any trouble to her,
+only a help and a comfort; and her neighbors have done what they could
+from time to time."
+
+Dame Hartley might have said that she and her husband had kept this
+desolate widow and her children from starvation through many a long
+winter, and had given her the means of earning her daily bread in
+summer; had clothed the children, and provided comforts for the crippled
+girl. But this was not Nurse Lucy's way. The neighbors had done what
+they could, she said; and now Bubble was earning good wages for a boy,
+and was sure to get on well, being bright and industrious; and Mrs.
+Chirk took in weaving to do for the neighbors, and went out sometimes to
+work by the day; and so they were really getting on very well,--better
+than one could have hoped.
+
+Hildegarde laid her head against the good Dame's shoulder and fell into
+a brown study. Nurse Lucy seemed also in a thoughtful mood; and so the
+two sat quietly in the soft twilight till the red glow faded in the
+west, and left in its stead a single star, gleaming like a living jewel
+in the purple sky. All the birds were asleep save the untiring
+whippoorwill, who presented his plea for the castigation of the unhappy
+William with ceaseless energy. A little night-breeze came up, and said
+pleasant, soft things to the leaves, which rustled gently in reply, and
+the crickets gave their usual evening concert, beginning with a movement
+in G sharp, _allegro con moto_. Other sound there was none, until by and
+by the noise of wheels was heard, and the click of old Nancy's hoofs;
+and out of the gathering darkness Farmer Hartley appeared, just returned
+from the village, whither he had gone to make arrangements about selling
+his hay.
+
+"Wal, Marm Lucy," he said, cheerfully, throwing the reins on Nancy's
+neck and jumping from the wagon, "is that you settin' thar? 'Pears to me
+I see somethin' like a white apun gloomin' out o' the dark."
+
+"Yes, Jacob," answered "Marm Lucy," "I am here, and so is Hilda. The
+evening has been so lovely, we have not had the heart to light the
+lamps, but have just been sitting here watching the sunset. We'll come
+in now, though," she added, leading the way into the house. "You'll be
+wanting some supper, my man. Or did ye stop at Cousin Sarah's?"
+
+"I stopped at Sary's," replied the farmer. "Ho! ho! yes, Sary gave me
+some supper, though she warn't in no mood for seein' comp'ny, even her
+own kin. Poor Sary! she was in a dretful takin', sure enough!"
+
+"Why, what was the matter?" asked Dame Hartley, as she trimmed and
+lighted the great lamp, and drew the short curtains of Turkey red cotton
+across the windows. "Is Abner sick again!"
+
+"Shouldn't wonder if he was, by this time," replied the farmer; "but he
+warn't at the beginnin' of it. I'll tell ye how 'twas;" and he sat down
+in his great leather chair, and stretched his legs out comfortably
+before him, while his wife filled his pipe and brought it to him,--a
+little attention which she never forgot. "Sary, she bought a new bunnit
+yisterday!" Farmer Hartley continued, puffing away at the pipe. "She's
+kind o' savin', ye know, Sary is [Nurse Lucy nodded, with a knowing
+air], and she hadn't had a new bunnit for ten years. (I d' 'no' 's she's
+had one for twenty!" he added in parenthesis; "_I_ never seed her with
+one to my knowledge.) Wal, the gals was pesterin' her, an' sayin' she
+didn't look fit to go to meetin' in the old bunnit, so 't last she giv'
+way, and went an' bought a new one. 'Twas one o' these newfangled
+shapes. What was it Lizy called it? Somethin' Chinese, I reckon. Fan
+Song! That was it!"
+
+"Fanchon, wasn't it, perhaps?" asked Hilda, much amused.
+
+"That's what I said, warn't it?" said the farmer. "Fan Song, Fan
+Chong,--wal, what's the odds? 'Twas a queer lookin' thing, anyhow, I
+sh'd think, even afore it-- Wal, I'm comin' to that. Sary showed it to
+the gals, and they liked it fust-rate; then she laid it on the kitchen
+table, an' went upstairs to git some ribbons an' stuff to put on it.
+She rummaged round consid'able upstairs, an' when she kum down, lo and
+behold, the bunnit was gone! Wal, Sary hunted high, and she hunted low.
+She called the gals, thinkin' they'd played a trick on her, an' hidden
+it for fun. But they hadn't, an' they all set to an' sarched the house
+from garrit to cellar; but they didn't find hide nor hair o' that
+bunnit. At last Sary give it up, an' sot down out o' breath, an' mad
+enough to eat somebody. 'It's been stole!' says she. 'Some ornery
+critter kem along while I was upstairs,' says she, 'an' seed it lyin'
+thar on the table, an' kerried it off!' says she. 'I'd like to get hold
+of her!' says she; 'I guess she wouldn't steal no more bunnits for _one_
+while!' says she. I had come in by that time, an' she was tellin' me all
+about it. Jest at that minute the door opened, and Abner kem sa'nterin'
+in, mild and moony as usual 'Sary,' says he,--ho! ho! ho! it makes me
+laugh to think on't,--'Sary,' says he, 'I wouldn't buy no more baskets
+without handles, ef I was you. They ain't convenient to kerry,' says
+he. And with that he sets down on the table--that Fan Chong bunnit! He'd
+been mixin' chicken feed in it, an' he'd held it fust by one side an'
+then by the other, an' he'd dropped it in the mud too, I reckon, from
+the looks of it: you never seed sech a lookin' thing in all your born
+days as that bunnit was. Sary, she looked at it, and then she looked at
+Abner, an' then at the bunnit agin; an' _then_ she let fly."
+
+"Poor Sarah!" said Nurse Lucy, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes.
+"What did she say?"
+
+"_I_ can't tell ye what she said," replied the farmer. "What did your
+old cat say when Spot caught hold of her tail the other day? An' yet
+there was language enough in what Sary said. I tell ye the hull
+dictionary was flyin' round that room for about ten minutes,--Webster's
+Unabridged, an' nothin' less. An' Abner, he jest stood thar, bobbin' his
+head up an' down, and openin' an' shettin' his mouth, as if he'd like
+to say somethin' if he could get a chance. But when Sary was so out of
+breath that she couldn't say another word, an' hed to stop for a minute,
+Abner jest says, 'Sary, I guess you're a little excited. Jacob an' me'll
+go out an' take a look at the stock,' says he, 'and come back when
+you're feelin' calmer.' An' he nods to me, an' out we both goes, before
+Sary could git her breath agin. I didn't say nothin', 'cause I was
+laughin' so inside 't I couldn't. Abner, he walked along kind o' solemn,
+shakin' his head every little while, an' openin' an' shettin' his mouth.
+When we got to the stable-door he looked at me a minute, and then he
+said, 'The tongue is a onruly member, Jacob! I _thought_ that was kind
+of a curus lookin' basket, though!' and that was every word he said
+about it."
+
+"Oh, what delightfully funny people!" cried Hilda. "What did the wife
+say when you came in to supper, Farmer Hartley?"
+
+"She warn't thar," replied the farmer. "She had a headache, the gals
+said, and had gone to bed. I sh'd think she _would_ have had a
+headache,--but thar," he added, rising suddenly and beginning to search
+in his capacious pockets, "I declar' for 't, if I hain't forgotten
+Huldy's letter! Sary an' her bunnit put everything else out of my head."
+
+Hilda sprang up in delight to receive the envelope which the farmer
+handed to her; but her face fell a little when she saw that it was not
+from her parents. She reflected, however, that she had had a double
+letter only two days before, and that she could not expect another for a
+week, as Mr. and Mrs. Graham wrote always with military punctuality.
+There was no doubt as to the authorship of the letter. The delicate
+pointed handwriting, the tiny seal of gilded wax, the faint perfume
+which the missive exhaled, all said to her at once, "Madge Everton."
+
+With a feeling which, if not quite reluctance, was still not quite
+alacrity, Hildegarde broke the pretty seal, with its Cupid holding a
+rose to his lips, and read as follows:--
+
+
+     SARATOGA, July 20.
+
+     MY DEAREST, SWEETEST HILDA,--Can it be possible
+     that you have been away a whole month, and that I have not
+     written to you? I am awfully ashamed! but I have been so
+     TOO busy, it has been out of the question. Papa
+     decided quite _suddenly_ to come here instead of going to
+     Long Branch; and you can imagine the _frantic_ amount of
+     work Mamma and I had to get ready. One has to dress so
+     _much_ at Saratoga, you know; and we cannot just send an
+     order to _Paris_, as _you_ do, my dear Queen, for all we
+     want, but have to _scratch round_ (I know you don't allow
+     your subjects to use slang, but we DO scratch
+     round, and nothing else can express it), and get things made
+     here. I have a _lovely_ pale blue Henrietta-cloth, made like
+     that rose-colored gown of yours that I admire so much, and
+     that you SAID I might copy. Mamma says it was
+     _awfully_ good of you, and that _she_ wouldn't let any one
+     copy _her_ French dresses if she had them; but I told her
+     you _were_ awfully good, and that was why. Well, then I have
+     a white nun's-veiling, made with triple box-plaits, and a
+     _lovely_ pointed overskirt, copied from a Donovan dress of
+     Mamma's; and a dark-red surah, and oh! a perfect
+     "frou-frou" of wash-dresses, of course; two _sweet_ white
+     lawns, one trimmed with valenciennes (I _hate_ valenciennes,
+     you know, but Mamma _will_ make me have it, because she
+     thinks it is _jeune fille_!), and one with the new Russian
+     lace; and a pink sateen, and two or three light chambrays.
+
+     But now I know you will be _dying_ to hear about my hats;
+     for you always say that the hat _makes_ the costume; and so
+     it _does_! Well, my dearest, I have _one_ Redfern hat, and
+     _only_ one. Mamma says I cannot expect to have more until I
+     come out, which is _bitter_. However, this one is a
+     _beauty_, and yet cost _only_ thirty dollars. It goes well
+     with nearly all my dresses, and is _immensely_ becoming, all
+     the girls say: very high, with long pointed wings and stiff
+     bows. _Simple_, my dear, doesn't _express_ it! You know I
+     LOVE simplicity; but it is _Redferny_ to a
+     _degree_, and _everybody_ has noticed it.
+
+     Well, my dearest Queen, here am I running on about myself,
+     as if I were not actually EXPIRING to hear about
+     you. What my feelings were when I called at your house on
+     that _fatal Tuesday_ and was told that you had gone to spend
+     the summer on a _farm_ in the _depths_ of the country,
+     passes my _power_ to tell. I could not ask your mother many
+     questions, for you know I am always a little bit
+     AFRAID of her, though she is _perfectly lovely_ to
+     me! She was very quiet and sweet, _as_ _usual_, and spoke
+     as if it were the most _natural_ thing in the _world_ for a
+     brilliant society girl (for that is what you _are_, Hilda,
+     even though you are only a school-girl; and you
+     NEVER can be anything else!) to spend her summer in
+     a wretched farm-house, among _pigs_ and _cows_ and dreadful
+     ignorant people. Of course, Hilda dearest, you know that my
+     admiration for your mother is _simply_ IMMENSE, and
+     that I would not for _worlds_ say _one syllable_ against her
+     judgment and that of your _military angel_ of a father; but
+     I MUST say it seemed to me MORE than
+     strange. I assure you I hardly closed my eyes for several
+     nights, thinking of the MISERY you must be
+     undergoing; for _I_ KNOW you, Hildegarde! and the
+     thought of my proud, fastidious, high-bred Queen being
+     condemned to associate with _clowns_ and _laborers_ was
+     really MORE than I could bear. Do write to me,
+     darling, and tell me HOW you are enduring it. You
+     were _always_ so sensitive; why, I can see your lip curl
+     _now_, when any of the girls did anything that was not _tout
+     a fait comme il faut_! and the _air_ with which you used to
+     say, "The _little_ things, my dear, are the _only_ things!"
+     How _true_ it is! I feel it more and more _every_ day. So
+     _do_ write _at once_, and let me know _all_ about your dear
+     self. I picture you to myself sometimes, pale and thin, with
+     the "_white disdain_" that some poet or other speaks of, in
+     your face, but enduring all the HORRORS that you
+     must be subjected to with your OWN DIGNITY. Dearest
+     Hilda, you are _indeed_ a HEROINE!
+
+     Always, darling,
+            Your own deeply _devoted_ and _sympathizing_
+                   MADGE.
+
+
+Hildegarde looked up after reading this letter, and, curiously enough,
+her eyes fell directly on a little mirror which hung on the wall
+opposite. In it she saw a rosy, laughing face, which smiled back
+mischievously at her. There were dimples in the cheeks, and the gray
+eyes were fairly dancing with life and joyousness. Where was the "white
+disdain," the dignity, the pallor and emaciation? Could this be Madge's
+Queen Hildegarde? Or rather, thought the girl, with a sudden revulsion
+of feeling, could this Hildegarde ever have been the other? The form of
+"the minx," long since dissociated from her thoughts and life, seemed to
+rise, like Banquo's ghost, and stare at her with cold, disdainful eyes
+and supercilious curl of the lip. Oh DEAR! how dreadful it was
+to have been so odious! How could poor dear Papa and Mamma, bless them,
+have endured her as they did, so patiently and sweetly? But they should
+see when they came back! She had only just begun yet; but there were two
+months still before her, and in that time what could she not do? They
+should be surprised, those dear parents! And Madge--why, Madge would be
+surprised too. Poor Madge! To think of her in Saratoga, prinking and
+preening herself like a gay bird, in the midst of a whirl of dress and
+diamonds and gayety, with no fields, no woods, no glen, no--no
+_kitchen_! Hilda looked about the room which she had learned so to love,
+trying to fancy Madge Everton in it; remembering, too, the bitterness of
+her first feeling about it. The lamplight shone cheerily on the yellow
+painted walls, the shining floor, the gleaming brass, copper, and china.
+It lighted up the red curtains and made a halo round good Nurse Lucy's
+head as she bent over her sewing; it played on the farmer's silver-bowed
+spectacles as he pored with knitted brows and earnest look over the
+weekly paper which he had brought from the village. The good, kind
+farmer! Hilda gazed at him as he sat all unconscious, and wondered why
+she had not seen at once how handsome he really was. The broad forehead,
+with its deep, thoughtful furrows; the keen, yet kindly blue eyes; the
+"sable-silvered" hair and beard, which, if not exactly smooth, were
+still so picturesque, so leonine; the firm, perhaps obstinate, mouth,
+which could speak so wisely and smile so cordially,--all these combined
+to make up what the newspapers would call a "singularly attractive
+exterior." And "_Oh!_ how good he has been to me!" thought Hilda. "I
+believe he is the best man in the world, next to papa." Then she thought
+of Madge again, and tried to fancy her in her Redfern hat,--pretty
+Madge, with her black eyes and curly fringe, under the "simplicity" of
+the heaven-aspiring wings and bows; and as she smiled at the image,
+there rose beside it the fair head of Pink Chirk, looking out like a
+white rose from the depths of her dingy straw tunnel. Then she fancied
+herself saying airily (she knew _just_ how she used to say it), "The
+_little_ things, my dear, are the _only_ things!" and then she laughed
+aloud at the very funniness of it.
+
+"Hut! tut!" said Farmer Hartley, looking up from his paper with a smile.
+"What's all this? Are ye keepin' all the jokes to yerself, Huldy?"
+
+"It is only my letter that is so funny," replied Hilda. "I don't believe
+it would seem so funny to you, Farmer Hartley, because you don't know
+the writer. But have you finished your paper, and are you ready for
+Robin Hood?"
+
+"Wal, I am, Huldy!" said the good farmer, laying aside his paper and
+rubbing his hands with an air of pleasurable anticipation. "'Pears to me
+we left that good-lookin' singin' chap--what was his name?"
+
+"Allan-a-Dale!" said Hilda, smiling.
+
+"Ah!" said the farmer; "Allan-a-Dale. 'Pears to me we left him in
+rayther a ticklish situation."
+
+"Oh, but it comes out all right!" cried Hilda, joyously, rising to fetch
+the good brown book which she loved. "You will see in the next chapter
+how delightfully Robin gets him out of the difficulty." She ran and
+brought the book and drew her chair up to the table, and all three
+prepared for an hour of solid enjoyment. "But before I begin," she said,
+"I want you to promise, Farmer Hartley, to take me with you the next
+time you go to the village. I _must_ buy a hat for Pink Chirk."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE OLD CAPTAIN.
+
+
+"Let--me--see!" said Farmer Hartley, as he gathered up the reins and
+turned old Nancy's head towards the village, while Hildegarde, on the
+seat beside him, turned back to wave a merry farewell to Nurse Lucy, who
+stood smiling in the porch. "Let--me--see! Hev you ben off the farm
+before, Huldy, sence you kem here?"
+
+"Not once!" replied Hilda, cheerily. "And I don't believe I should be
+going now, Farmer Hartley, if it were not for Pink's hat. I promised
+myself that she should not wear that ugly straw sun-bonnet again. I
+wonder why anything so hideous was ever invented."
+
+"A straw bunnit, do ye mean?" said the farmer; "somethin' like a long
+sugar-scoop, or a tunnel like?"
+
+"Yes, just that!" said Hilda; "and coming down over her poor dear eyes
+so that she cannot see anything, except for a few inches straight before
+her."
+
+"Wal!" said the farmer, meditatively, "I remember when them bunnits was
+considered reel hahnsome. Marm Lucy had one when she was a gal; I mind
+it right well. A white straw it was, with blue ribbons on top of it. It
+come close round her pooty face, an' I used to hev to sidle along and
+get round in front of her before I could get a look at her. I hed
+rayther a grudge agin the bunnit on that account; but I supposed it was
+hahnsome, as everybody said so. I never see a bunnit o' that kind," he
+continued, "without thinkin' o' Mis' Meeker an' 'Melia Tyson. I swan! it
+makes me laugh now to think of 'em."
+
+"Who were they?" asked Hildegarde, eagerly, for she delighted in the
+farmer's stories. "Please tell me about them!"
+
+The farmer shook his head, as was his wont when he was about to relapse
+into reminiscences, and gave old Nancy several thoughtful taps with the
+whip, which she highly resented.
+
+"Ol' Mis' Meeker," he said, presently, "she was a character, she was!
+She didn't belong hereabouts, but down South somewhere, but she was
+cousin to Cephas Tyson, an' when Cephas' wife died, she came to stop
+with him a spell, an' look out for his children. Three children there
+was, little Cephas, an' Myrick, an' 'Melia. 'Melia, she was a peart,
+lively little gal, with snappin' black eyes, an' consid'ble of a will of
+her own; an' Mis' Meeker, she was pooty stout, an' she took things easy,
+jest as they kem, an' let the children--an' 'Melia specially--do pooty
+much as they'd a mind to. Wal, one day I happened in to see Cephas about
+a pair o' steers I was thinkin' o' buyin'. Cephas was out; but Mis'
+Meeker said he'd be right in, she reckoned, an' asked me to take a cheer
+an' wait. So I sot down, an' while I was waitin', in come 'Melia, an'
+says she, 'Say, Aunt Cilly (Mis' Meeker's name was Priscilla)--Say, Aunt
+Cilly, can I go down an' play with Eddie? He wants me to come, reel bad.
+Can I, Aunt Cilly?' 'Not to-day, dearie,' says Mis' Meeker; 'you was
+down to play with Eddie yesterday, an' I reckon that'll do for one
+while!' she says. I looked at little 'Melia, an' her eyes was snappin'
+like coals. She didn't say nothin', but she jest took an' shoved her
+elbow right through the plate-glass winder. Ho! ho! Cephas had had his
+house made over, an' he was real proud of his plate-glass winders. I d'
+'no' how much they'd cost him, but 'twas a pooty good sum. An' she
+shoved her elbow right through it and smashed it into shivers. I jumped
+up, kind o' startled by the crash. But ol' Mis' Meeker, she jes' looked
+up, as if she was a _leetle_ bit surprised, but nothin' wuth
+mentionin'. 'Why, honey!' says she, in her slow, drawlin' kind o' way,
+'I didn't know ye wanted to go _that_ bad! Put on yer bunnit, an' go an'
+play with Eddie _this minute_!' says she. Ho! ho! ho! Them was her very
+words. An' 'Melia, she tossed her bunnit on (one o' them straw Shakers
+it was, an' that's what made me think o' the story), and jes' shook the
+glass out'n her sleeve,--_I_ d' 'no' why the child warn't cut to pieces,
+but she didn't seem t' have got no hurt,--and made a face at her aunt,
+an' off she went. That's the way them children was brought up."
+
+"Poor things!" cried Hilda. "What became of them, Farmer Hartley?"
+
+"'Melia, she run off an' married a circus feller," replied the farmer,
+"an' the boys, I don't rightly know _what_ become of 'em. They went out
+West, I b'lieve; an' after 'Melia married, Cephas went out to jine 'em,
+an' I ain't heerd nothin' of 'em for years."
+
+By this time they were rattling through the main street of the little
+village, and presently stopped before an unpretending little shop, in
+the window of which were displayed some rather forlorn-looking hats and
+bonnets.
+
+"Here y'are, Huldy!" said the farmer, pointing to the shop with a
+flourish of his whip. "Here's whar ye git the styles fust hand. Hev to
+come from New York to Glenfield to git the reel thing, ye see."
+
+"I see!" laughed Hilda, springing lightly from the wagon.
+
+"I'll call for ye in 'bout half an hour;" and with a kindly nod the
+farmer drove away down the street.
+
+Hildegarde entered the dingy little shop with some misgivings, "I hope I
+shall find _something_ fresh!" she said to herself; "those things in the
+window look as if they had been there since the Flood." She quickly made
+friends with the brisk little milliner, and they were soon turning over
+the meagre store of hats, trimmed and untrimmed.
+
+"This is _real_ tasty!" said the little woman, lifting with honest pride
+an alarming structure of green satin, which some straggling cock's
+feathers were doing their best to hide.
+
+Hilda shuddered, but said pleasantly, "Rather heavy for summer; don't
+you think so? It would be better for a winter hat. What is this?" she
+added, drawing from the farthest recesses of the box an untrimmed hat of
+rough yellow straw. "I think perhaps this will do, Miss Bean."
+
+"Oh my land, no! you don't want _that_!" cried the little milliner,
+aghast. "That's only common doin's, anyhow; and it's been in that box
+three years. Them shapes ain't worn now."
+
+"Never mind!" said Hilda, merrily; "it is perfectly fresh, and I like
+the shape. Just wait till you see it trimmed, Miss Bean. May I rummage a
+little among your drawers? I will not toss the things about."
+
+A piece of dotted mull and a bunch of soft pink roses rewarded her
+search; and with these and a bit of rose-colored ribbon she proceeded to
+make the rough straw into so dainty and bewitching a thing that Miss
+Bean sat fairly petrified with amazement on her little hair-cloth sofa
+in the back shop. "Why! why!" she said. "If that ain't the beat of all!
+It's the tastiest hat I ever see. You never told me you'd learned the
+trade!"
+
+This last was rather reproachfully said; and Hilda, much amused,
+hastened to reassure the good woman.
+
+"Indeed, I never learned the trade," she said. "I take to it naturally,
+I think; and I have watched my mother, who does it much better than I."
+
+"She must be a first-class trimmer, then!" replied Miss Bean,
+emphatically. "Works in one o' them big houses in New York, I reckon,
+don't she?"
+
+Hildegarde laughed; but before she could reply, Miss Bean went on to
+say: "Wal, you're a stranger to me, but you've got a pooty good
+count'nance, an' ye kem with Farmer Hartley; that's reference enough."
+She paused and reflected, while Hildegarde, putting the finishing
+touches to the pretty hat, wondered what was coming. "I wasn't
+calc'latin' to hire help this summer," continued the milliner; "but
+you're so handy, and yer ma could give ye idees from time to time. So if
+ye'd like a job, I d' 'no' but I'd like to hire ye."
+
+The heiress of all the Grahams wanted to laugh at this naive proposal,
+but good feeling and good manners alike forbade. She thanked Miss Bean
+for her kind offer, and explained that she was only spending her school
+vacation at Hartley Farm; that her time was fully occupied, etc., etc.
+
+The little milliner looked so disappointed that Hilda was seized with a
+royal impulse, and offered to "go over" the hats in the window while she
+waited for Farmer Hartley, and freshen them up a bit.
+
+"Well, I wish't ye would!" said poor Miss Bean. "Fact is, I ain't done
+so well as I c'd wish this season. Folks is dretful 'fraid o' buyin' new
+things nowadays."
+
+Then followed a series of small confidences on the hair-cloth sofa,
+while Hilda's fingers flew about the forlorn hats and bonnets, changing
+a ribbon here and a flower there, patting and poking, and producing
+really marvellous results. Another tale of patient labor, suffering,
+privation. An invalid mother and an "innocent" brother for this frail
+little woman to support. Doctors' bills and hard times, and stingy
+patrons who were "as 'fraid of a dollar-bill as if 'twas the small-pox."
+Hilda's eyes filled with tears of sympathy, and one great drop fell on
+the green satin hat, but was instantly covered by the wreath of ivy
+which was replacing the staring cock's feathers.
+
+"Wal, I declare to gracious!" exclaimed Miss Bean. "You'd never know
+that for the same hat, now, would ye? I thought 'twas han'some before,
+but it's enough site han'somer now. I shouldn' wonder a mite if Mis'
+Peasley bought that hat now. She's been kind o' hankerin' arter it, the
+last two or three times she was in here; but every time she tried it on,
+she'd say No, 'twas too showy, she guessed. Wal, I do say, you make a
+gret mistake not goin' into the trade, for you're born to it, that's
+plain. When a pusson's born to a thing, he's thrown away, you may say,
+on anything else. What _was_ you thinkin'--"
+
+But at this moment came a cheery call of "Huldy! Huldy!" and Hildegarde,
+cutting short the little woman's profuse thanks and invitations to call
+again, bade her a cordial good-by, and ran out to the wagon, carrying
+her purchase neatly done up in brown paper.
+
+"Stiddy thar!" said the farmer, making room for her on the seat beside
+him. "Look out for the ile-can, Huldy! Bought out the hull shop, hev ye?
+Wal, I sh'll look for gret things the next few days. Huddup thar,
+Nancy!" And they went jingling back along the street again.
+
+As they passed the queer little shops, with their antiquated signboards,
+the farmer had something to say about each one. How Omnium Grabb here,
+the grocer, missed his dried apples one morning, and how he accused his
+chore-boy, who was his sister's son too, of having eaten them,--"As if
+any livin' boy would pick out dried apples to eat, when he hed a hull
+store to choose from!" and how the very next day a man coming to buy a
+pair of boots, Omnium Grabb hooked down a pair from the ceiling, where
+all the boots hung, and found them "chock full" of dried apples, which
+the rats had been busily storing in them and their companion pairs.
+
+How Enoch Pillsbury, the "'pottecary, like t' ha' killed" Old Man Grout,
+sending him writing fluid instead of the dark mixture for his
+"dyspepsy."
+
+How Beulah Perkins, who lived over the dry-goods store, had been
+bedridden for nineteen years, till the house where she was living caught
+fire, "whereupon she jumped out o' bed an' grabbed an umbrella an'
+opened it, an' ran down street in her red-flannel gownd, with the
+umbrella over her head, shoutin', 'Somebody go save my bedstid! I ain't
+stirred from it for nineteen years, an' I ain't never goin' to stir from
+it agin. Somebody go save my bedstid!'"
+
+"And was it saved?" asked Hilda, laughing.
+
+"No," said the farmer; "'t wa'n't wuth savin', nohow. Besides, if't
+_hed_ been, she'd ha' gone back to it an' stayed there. Hosy Grout, who
+did her chores, kicked it into the fire; an' she was a well woman to the
+day of her death."
+
+Now the houses straggled farther and farther apart, and at last the
+village was fairly left behind. Old Nancy pricked up her ears and
+quickened her pace a little, looking right and left with glances of
+pleasure as the familiar fields ranged themselves along either side of
+the road. Hilda too was glad to be in the free country again, and she
+looked with delight at the banks of fern, the stone walls covered with
+white starry clematis, and the tangle of blackberry vines which made the
+pleasant road so fragrant and sweet. She was silent for some time. At
+last she said, half timidly, "Farmer Hartley, you promised to tell me
+more about your father some day. Don't you think this would be a good
+time? I have been so much interested by what I have heard of him."
+
+"That's curus, now," said Farmer Hartley slowly, flicking the dust with
+the long lash of his whip. "It's curus, Huldy, that you sh'd mention
+Father jest now, 'cause I happened to be thinkin' of him myself that
+very minute. Old Father," he added meditatively, "wal, surely, he _was_
+a character, Father was. Folks about here," he said, turning suddenly to
+Hilda and looking keenly at her, "think Father was ravin' crazy, or
+mighty nigh it. But he warn't nothin' o' the sort. His mind was as keen
+as a razor, an' as straight-edged, 'xcept jest on _one_ subject. On
+_that_ he was, so to say, a little--wal--a little _tetched_."
+
+"And that was--?" queried Hilda.
+
+"Why, ye see, Huldy, Father had been a sea-farin' man all his days, an'
+he'd seen all manner o' countries an' all manner o' folks; and 'tain't
+to be wondered at ef he got a leetle bit confoosed sometimes between the
+things he'd seen and the things he owned. Long'n short of it was, Father
+thought he hed a kind o' treasure hid away somewhar, like them pirate
+fellers used to hev. Ef they _did_ hev it!" he added slowly. "I never
+more'n half believed none o' them yarns; but Father, he thought _he_ hed
+it, an' no mistake. 'D'ye think I was five years coastin' round Brazil
+for nothin'?' he says. 'There's di'monds in Brazil,' he says, 'whole
+mines of 'em; an' there's _some_ di'monds _out_ o' Brazil too;' and then
+he'd wink, and laugh out hearty, the way he used. He was always
+laughin', Father was. An' when times was hard, he'd say to my mother,
+'Wealthy, we won't sell the di'monds yet a while. Not this time,
+Wealthy; but they're thar, you know, my woman, they're thar!' And when
+my mother'd say, 'Whar to goodness be they, Thomas?' he'd only chuckle
+an' laugh an' shake his head. Then thar was his story about the ruby
+necklace. How we youngsters used to open our eyes at that! Believed it
+too, every word of it."
+
+"Oh! what was it?" cried Hilda. "Tell me, and I will believe it too!"
+
+"He used to tell of a Malay pirate," said the farmer, "that he fit and
+licked somewhere off in the South Seas,--when he sailed the 'Lively
+Polly,' that was. She was a clipper, Father always said; an' he run
+aboard the black fellers, and smashed their schooner, an' throwed their
+guns overboard, an' demoralized 'em ginerally. They took to their boats
+an' paddled off, what was left of 'em, an' he an' his crew sarched the
+schooner, an' found a woman locked up in the cabin,--an Injin princess,
+father said she was,--an' they holdin' her for ransom. Wal, Father found
+out somehow whar she come from,--Javy, or Mochy, or some o' them places
+out o' the spice-box,--an' he took her home, an' hunted up her parents
+an' guardeens, an' handed her over safe an' sound. They--the
+guardeens--was gret people whar they lived, an' they wanted to give
+Father a pot o' money; but he said he warn't that kind. 'I'm a Yankee
+skipper!' says he. ''Twas as good as a meal o' vittles to me to smash
+that black feller!' says he. '_I_ don't want no pay for it. An' as for
+the lady, 'twas a pleasure to obleege her,' he says; 'an' I'd do it agin
+_any_ day in the week, _'xcept_ Sunday, when I don't fight, ez a rewl,
+when I kin help it.' Then the princess, she tried to kiss his hand; but
+Father said he guessed that warn't quite proper, an' the guardeens
+seemed to think so too. So then she took a ruby necklace off her neck
+(she was all done up in shawls, Father said, an' silk, an' gold chains,
+an' fur an' things, so 's 't he couldn' see nothin' but her eyes; but
+they was better wuth seein' than any other woman's hull face that ever
+_he_ see), and gave it to him, an' made signs that he _must_ keep that,
+anyhow. Then she said somethin' to one o' the guardeens who spoke a
+little Portuguese, Father understandin' it a little too, and he told
+Father she said these was the drops of her blood he had saved, an' he
+must keep it to remember her. Jest like drops of blood, he said the
+rubies was, strung along on a gold chain. So he took it, an' said he
+warn't likely to forget about it; an' then he made his bow, an' the
+guardeens said he was their father, an' their mother, an' their
+great-aunt, an' I d' 'no' what all, an' made him stay to supper, an' he
+didn't eat nothin' for a week arterward."
+
+The farmer paused, and Hildegarde drew a long breath, "_Oh!_" she cried,
+"what a delightful story, Farmer Hartley! And you don't believe it? _I_
+do, every word of it! I am _sure_ it is true!"
+
+"Wal, ye see," said the farmer, meditatively; "Ef' t was true, what
+become o' the necklace? That's what _I_ say. Father believed it, sure
+enough, and he thought he hed that necklace, as sure as you think you
+hev that bunnit in yer hand. But 'twarn't never found, hide _nor_ hair
+of it."
+
+"Might he not have sold it?" Hilda suggested.
+
+Farmer Hartley shook his head, "No," he said, "he warn't that kind.
+Besides, he thought to the day of his death that he hed it, sure enough.
+'Thar's the princess's necklace!' he'd say; 'don't ye forgit that,
+Wealthy! Along with the di'monds, ye know.' And then he'd laugh like he
+was fit to bust. Why, when he was act'lly dyin', so fur gone 't he
+couldn' speak plain, he called me to him, an' made signs he wanted to
+tell me somethin'. I stooped down clost, an' he whispered somethin'; but
+all I could hear was 'di'monds,' and 'dig,' and then in a minute 'twas
+all over. Poor old Father! He'd been a good skipper, an' a good man all
+his days."
+
+He was silent for a time, while Hilda pondered over the story, which she
+could not make up her mind to disbelieve altogether.
+
+"Wal! wal! and here we are at the old farm agin!" said the farmer
+presently, as old Nancy turned in at the yellow gate. "Here I've been
+talkin' the everlastin' way home, ain't I? You must herry and git into
+the house, Huldy, for _I_ d' 'no' how the machine's managed to run
+without ye all this time. I sha'n't take ye out agin ef I find anythin's
+wrong."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A PARTY OF PLEASURE.
+
+
+On a certain lovely afternoon the three happiest people in the world (so
+they styled themselves, and they ought to know) were gathered together
+in a certain spot, which was _next_ to the prettiest spot in the world.
+
+"You should have had _the_ prettiest, Pink," said Hilda, "but we could
+not get your chair down into the glen, you know. My poor, dear Pink, you
+have never seen the glen, have you?"
+
+"No," answered Pink Chirk, cheerily. "But I have heard so much about it,
+I really feel as if I had seen it, almost. And indeed I don't think it
+_can_ be much lovelier than this place."
+
+However that might be, the place they had chosen was certainly pretty
+enough to satisfy any one. Not far from Mrs. Chirk's cottage was a
+little pine-grove, easy of access, and with trees far enough apart to
+allow the wheeled chair to pass between them. And in the grove, just in
+a little open space where two or three trees had been cut away, was a
+great black rock, with ferns growing in all its cracks and crannies, and
+a tiny birch-tree waving like a green and white plume on its top. And at
+the foot of the rock--oh, what a wonderful thing!--a slender thread of
+crystal water came trickling out, as cold as ice and as clear as--as
+itself; for nothing else could be so clear. Bubble had made a little
+wooden trough to hold this fairy stream, and it gurgled along the trough
+and tumbled over the end of it with as much agitation and consequence as
+if it were the Niagara River in person. And under the rock and beside
+the stream was a bank of moss and ferns most lovely to behold, most
+luxurious to sit upon. On this bank sat Queen Hildegarde, with Bubble
+at her feet as usual; and beside her, in her chair, sat sweet Pink,
+looking more like a white rose than ever, with her fresh white dimity
+gown and her pretty hat. Hilda was very busy over a mysterious-looking
+basket, from whose depths she now drew a large napkin, which she spread
+on the smooth green moss. A plate of sandwiches came next, and some cold
+chicken, and six of Dame Hartley's wonderful apple-turnovers.
+
+"Now, Bubble," said Hilda, "where are those birch-bark cups that you
+made for us? I have brought nothing to drink out of."
+
+"I'll fetch 'em, Miss Hildy," cried Bubble, springing up with alacrity.
+"I clean forgot 'em. Say, Pink, shall I--? would you?" and he made
+sundry enigmatical signs to his sister.
+
+"Yes, certainly," said Pink; "of course."
+
+The boy ran off, and Hilda fell to twisting pine tassels together into a
+kind of fantastic garland, while Pink looked on with beaming eyes.
+
+"Pink," said Hilda, presently, "how is it that you speak so differently
+from Bubble and your mother,--so much better English, I mean? Have
+you--but no; you told me you never went to school."
+
+"It was Faith," said Pink, with a look of tender sadness,--"Faith
+Hartley. She wanted to be a teacher, and we studied together always.
+Dear Faith! I wish you had known her, Miss Graham."
+
+"You promised not to call me Miss Graham again, Pink," said Hildegarde,
+reproachfully. "It is absurd, and I won't have it."
+
+"Well, Hilda, then," said Pink, shyly. "I wish you had known Faith,
+Hilda; you would have loved her very much, I know."
+
+"I am sure I should," said Hilda, warmly. "Tell me more about her. Why
+did she want to teach when she was so happy at home?"
+
+"She loved children very much," said Pink, "and liked to be with them.
+She thought that if she studied hard, she could teach them more than
+the district school teachers about here generally do, and in a better
+way. I think she would have done a great deal of good," she added,
+softly.
+
+"Oh! _why_ did she die?" cried Hilda. "She was so much needed! It broke
+her father's heart, and her mother's, and almost yours, my Pink. Why was
+it right for her to die?"
+
+"It _was_ right, dear," said Pink, gently; "that is all we can know.
+'Why' isn't answered in this world. My granny used to say,--
+
+     "'Never lie!
+       Never pry!
+       Never ask the reason why!'"
+
+Hilda shook her head, and was about to reply earnestly; but at this
+moment Bubble came bounding back with something in his arms,--something
+covered with an old shawl; something alive, which did not like the
+shawl, and which struggled, and made plaintive little noises, which the
+boy tried vainly to repress.
+
+[Illustration: "'SAY, MISS HILDY,--DO YOU LIKE PURPS?'"]
+
+"Say, Miss Hildy," he cried, eagerly, "do ye like--be still, ye critter;
+hesh, I tell ye!--do you like purps?"
+
+"'Purps,' Bubble?" repeated Hilda, wonderingly. "What are they? And what
+have you there,--your poor old cat? Let her go! For shame, you naughty
+boy!"
+
+"Puppies, he means," whispered Pink.
+
+"'Cause if ye do," cried the breathless Bubble, still struggling with
+his shrouded captive, "I've got one here as--Wal, thar! go 'long, ye
+pesky critter, if ye _will_!" for the poor puppy had made one frantic
+effort, and leaped from his arms to the ground, where it rolled over and
+over, a red and green plaid mass, with a white tail sticking out of one
+end. On being unrolled, it proved to be a little snow-white, curly
+creature, with long ears and large, liquid eyes, whose pathetic glance
+went straight to Hilda's heart.
+
+"Oh, the little darling!" she cried, taking him up in her arms; "the
+pretty, pretty creature! Is he really for me, Bubble? Thank you very
+much. I shall love him dearly, I know."
+
+"I'm glad ye like him," said Bubble, looking highly gratified. "Hosy
+Grout giv him an' another one to me yes'day, over 't the village. He was
+goin' to drownd 'em, an' I wouldn' let him, an' he said I might hev 'em
+ef I wanted 'em. I knew Pink would like to hev one, an' I thought mebbe
+you liked critters, an' so--"
+
+"Good Bubble!" said Hilda, stroking the little dog's curly head. "And
+what shall I call him, Pink? Let us each think of a name, and then
+choose the best."
+
+There was a pause, and then Bubble said, "Call him Scott, after the bold
+Buckle-oh!"
+
+"Or Will, for 'the wily Belted Will,'" said Pink, who was as inveterate
+a ballad-lover as her brother.
+
+"I think Jock is a good name," said Hildegarde,--"Jock o' Hazeldean, you
+know. I think I will call him Jock." The others assented, and the
+puppy was solemnly informed of the fact, and received a chicken-bone in
+honor of the occasion. Then the three friends ate their dinner, and very
+merry they were over it. Hildegarde crowned Pink with the pine-tassel
+wreath, and declared that she looked like a priestess of Diana.
+
+"No, she don't," said Bubble, looking up from his cold chicken; "she
+looks like Lars Porsena of Clusium sot in his ivory cheer, on'y she
+ain't f'erce enough. Hold up yer head, Pinky, an' look real savage, an'
+I'll do Horatius at the Bridge."
+
+Pink did her best to look savage, and Zerubbabel stood up and delivered
+"Horatius" with much energy and appropriate action, to the great
+amusement of his audience. A stout stick, cut from a neighboring
+thicket, served for the "good Roman steel;" and with this he cut and
+slashed and stabbed with furious energy, reciting the lines meanwhile
+with breathless ferocity. He slew the "great Lord of Luna," and on the
+imaginary body he--
+
+      "Right firmly pressed his heel,
+     And thrice and four times tugged amain,
+       Ere he wrenched out the steel."
+
+But when he cried--
+
+     "What noble Lucumo comes next
+       To taste our Roman cheer?"
+
+the puppy, who had been watching the scene with kindling eyes, and ears
+and tail of eager inquiry, could bear it no longer, but flung himself
+valiantly into the breach, and barked defiance, dancing about in front
+of Horatius and snapping furiously at his legs. Alas, poor puppy! He was
+hailed as "Sextus," and bade "welcome" by the bold Roman, who forthwith
+charged upon him, and drove him round and round the grove till he sought
+safety and protection in the lap of Lars Porsena herself. Then the
+bridge came down, and Horatius, climbing nimbly to the top of the rock,
+apostrophized his Father Tiber, sheathed his good sword by his side
+(_i.e._, rammed his stick into and _through_ his breeches pocket), and
+with his jacket on his back plunged headlong in the tide, and swam
+valiantly across the pine-strewn surface of the little glade.
+
+Bubble's performance was much applauded by the two girls, who, in the
+characters of Lars Porsena and Mamilius, "Prince of the Latian name,"
+had surveyed the whole with dignified amazement. And when the boy,
+exhausted with his heroic exertions, threw himself down on the
+pine-needles and begged "Miss Hildy" to sing to them, she readily
+consented, and sang "Jock o' Hazeldean" and "Come o'er the stream,
+Charlie!" so sweetly that the little fat birds sat still on the branches
+to listen. A faint glow stole into Pink's wan cheek, and her blue eyes
+sparkled with pleasure; while Bubble bobbed his head, and testified his
+delight by drumming with his heels on the ground and begging for more.
+"A ballid now, Miss Hildy, please," he cried.
+
+"Well," said Hildegarde, nothing loth, "what shall it be?"
+
+"One with some fightin' in it," replied Bubble, promptly.
+
+So Hildegarde began:--
+
+     "Down Deeside cam Inverey,
+      Whistling and playing;
+      He's lighted at Brackley gates
+      At the day's dawing."
+
+And went on to tell of the murder of "bonnie Brackley" and of the
+treachery of his young wife:--
+
+     "There's grief in the kitchen,
+      And mirth in the ha';
+      But the Baron o' Brackley
+      Is dead and awa'."
+
+So the ballad ended, leaving Bubble full of sanguinary desires anent the
+descendants of the false Inverey. "I--I--I'd like jest to git holt o'
+some o' them fellers!" he exclaimed. "They wouldn't go slaughterin'
+round no gret amount when I'd finished with em', I tell ye!" And he
+flourished his stick, and looked so fierce that the puppy yelped
+piteously, expecting another onslaught.
+
+"And now, Pink," said Hilda, "we have just time for a story before we go
+home. Bubble has told me about your stories, and I want very much to
+hear one."
+
+"Oh, Hilda, they are not worth telling twice!" protested Pink; "I just
+make them for Bubble when he takes me out on Sunday. It's all I can do
+for the dear lad."
+
+"Don't you mind her, Miss Hildy," said Bubble; "they're fustrate
+stories, an' she tells 'em jest like p--'rithmetic. Go ahead, Pink! Tell
+the one about the princess what looked in the glass all the time."
+
+So Pink, in her low, sweet voice, told the story of
+
+
+THE VAIN PRINCESS.
+
+Once upon a time there lived a princess who was so beautiful that it was
+a wonder to look at her. But she was also very vain; and her beauty was
+of no use or pleasure to anybody, for she sat and looked in her mirror
+all day long, and never thought of doing anything else.
+
+The mirror was framed in beaten gold, but the gold was not so bright as
+her shining locks; and all about its rim great sapphires were set, but
+they were dim and gray, compared with the blue of her lovely eyes. So
+there she sat all day in a velvet chair, clad in a satin gown with
+fringes of silver and pearl; and nobody in the world was one bit the
+better for her or her beauty.
+
+Now, one day the princess looked at herself so long and so earnestly
+that she fell fast asleep in her velvet chair, with the golden mirror in
+her lap. While she slept, a gust of wind blew the casement window open,
+and a rose that was growing on the wall outside peeped in. It was a poor
+little feeble white rose, which had climbed up the wall in a straggling
+fashion, and had no particular strength or beauty or sweetness. Every
+one who saw it from the outside said, "What a wretched little plant!
+Why is it not cut down?" and the rose trembled when it heard this, for
+it was as fond of life as if it were beautiful, and it still hoped for
+better days. Inside, no one thought about it at all; for the beautiful
+princess never left her chair to open the window.
+
+Now, when the rose saw the princess it was greatly delighted, for it had
+often heard of her marvellous beauty. It crept nearer and nearer, and
+gazed at the golden wonder of her hair, her ivory skin under which the
+blushes came and went as she slept, and her smiling lips. "Ah!" sighed
+the rose, "if I had only a tinge of that lovely red, I should be finer
+than all the other roses." And as it gazed, the thought came into its
+mind: "Why should I not steal a little of this wondrous beauty? Here it
+is of no use to anybody. If I had it, I would delight every one who
+passed by with my freshness and sweetness, and people would be the
+better for seeing a thing so lovely."
+
+So the rose crept to the princess's feet, and climbed up over her satin
+gown, and twined about her neck and arms, and about her lovely golden
+head. And it stole the blush from her cheek, and the crimson from her
+lips, and the gold from her hair. And the princess grew pale and paler;
+but the rose blushed red and redder, and its golden heart made the room
+bright, and its sweetness filled the air. It grew and grew, and now new
+buds and leaves and blossoms appeared; and when at last it left the
+velvet chair and climbed out of the casement again, it was a glorious
+plant, such as had never before been seen. All the passers-by stopped to
+look at it and admire it. Little children reached up to pluck the
+glowing blossoms, and sick and weary people gained strength and courage
+from breathing their delicious perfume. The world was better and happier
+for the rose, and the rose knew it, and was glad.
+
+But when the princess awoke, she took up her golden mirror again, and
+looking in it, saw a pale and wrinkled and gray-haired woman looking at
+her. Then she shrieked, and flung the mirror on the ground, and rushed
+out of her palace into the wide world. And wherever she went she cried,
+"I am the beautiful princess! Look at me and see my beauty; for I will
+show it to you now!" But nobody looked at her, for she was withered and
+ugly; and nobody cared for her, because she was selfish and vain. So she
+made no more difference in the world than she had made before. But the
+rose is blossoming still, and fills the air with its sweetness.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"My Pink," said Hildegarde, tenderly, as she walked beside her friend's
+chair on their homeward way, "you are shut up like the princess; but
+instead of the rose stealing your sweetness, you have stolen the
+sweetness of all the roses, and taken it into your prison with you."
+
+"I 'shut up,' Hilda?" cried Pink, opening wide eyes of wonder and
+reproach. "Do you call _this_ being shut up? See what I have had to-day!
+Enough pleasure to think about for a year. And even without it,--even
+before you came, Hilda,--why, I am the happiest girl in the world, and I
+ought to be."
+
+Hildegarde stooped and kissed the pale forehead. "Yes, dear, I think you
+are," she said; "but I should like you to have all the pleasant and
+bright and lovely things in the world, my Pink."
+
+"Well, I have the best of them," said Pink Chirk, smiling
+brightly,--"home and love, and friends and flowers. And as for the rest,
+why, dear Hilda, what _is_ the use in thinking about things one has
+not?"
+
+After this, which was part of Pink's little code of philosophy, she fell
+a-musing happily, while Hilda walked beside her in a kind of silent
+rage, almost hating herself for the fulness of vigor, the superabundant
+health and buoyancy, which she felt in every limb. She looked sidelong
+at the transparent cheek, the wasted frame, the unearthly radiance of
+the blue eyes. This girl was just her own age, and had never walked! It
+could not, it _must_ not, be so always. Thoughts thronged into her mind
+of the great New York physicians and the wonders they had wrought. Might
+it not be possible? Could not something be done? The blood coursed more
+quickly through her veins, and she laid her hand on that of the crippled
+girl with a sudden impulse of protection and tenderness.
+
+Pink Chirk looked up with a wondering smile. "Why, Hildegarde," she
+said, "you look like the British warrior queen you told me about
+yesterday. I was just thinking what a comfort it is to live now, instead
+of in those dreadful murdering times that the ballads tell of."
+
+"I _druther_ ha' lived then!" cried Bubble, from behind the chair. "If I
+hed, I'd ha' got hold o' that Inverey feller."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE WARRIOR QUEEN.
+
+
+Happily, happily, the days and weeks slipped by at Hartley Farm; and now
+September was half gone, and in two weeks more Hilda's parents would
+return. The letter had just arrived which fixed the date of their
+homecoming and Hildegarde had carried it upstairs to feast on it in her
+own room. She sat by the window in the little white rocking-chair, and
+read the words over and over again. In two weeks--really in two little
+weeks--she should see her mother again! It was too good to be true.
+
+"Dragons, do you hear?" she cried, turning towards the wash-handstand.
+"You have seen my mother, Dragons, and she has washed her little
+blessed face in your bowl. I should think that might have stopped your
+ramping, if anything could. Or have you been waving your paws for joy
+ever since? I may have been unjust to you, Dragons."
+
+The blue dragons, as usual, refused to commit themselves; and, as usual,
+the gilt cherubs round the looking-glass were shocked at their rudeness,
+and tried to atone for it by smiling as hard as they possibly could.
+
+"Such dear, sympathetic cherubs!" said the happy girl, bending forward
+to kiss one of them as she was brushing her hair. "_You_ do not ramp and
+glower when one tells you that one's mother is coming home. I know you
+are glad, you dear old things!"
+
+And then, suddenly, even while she was laughing at the cherubs, a
+thought struck her which sent a pang through her heart. The cherubs
+would still smile, just the same, when she was gone! Ah! it was not all
+delight, this great news. There was sorrow mingled with the rapture.
+Her heart was with her parents, of course. The mere thought of seeing
+her mother's face, of hearing her father's voice, sent the blood dancing
+through her veins. And yet--she must leave the farm; she must leave
+Nurse Lucy and the farmer, and they would miss her. They loved her; ah!
+how could they help it, when she loved them so much? And the pain came
+again at her heart as she recalled the sad smile with which the farmer
+had handed her this letter. "Good news for you, Huldy," he said, "but
+bad for the rest of us, I reckon!" Had he had word also, or did he just
+know that this was about the time they had meant to return? Oh, but she
+would come out so often to the farm! Papa and mamma would be willing,
+would wish her to come; and she could not live long at a time in town,
+without refreshing herself with a breath of _real_ air, country air. She
+might have _wilted_ along somehow for sixteen years; but she had never
+been _really_ alive--had she?--till this summer.
+
+Pink and Bubble too! they would miss her almost as much. But that did
+not trouble her, for she had a plan in her head for Pink and Bubble,--a
+great plan, which was to be whispered to Papa _almost_ the very moment
+she saw him,--not quite _the_ very moment, but the next thing to it. The
+plan would please Nurse Lucy and the farmer too,--would please them
+almost as much as it delighted her to think about it.
+
+Happy thought! She would go down now and tell the farmer about it. Nurse
+Lucy was lying down with a bad headache, she knew; but the farmer was
+still in the kitchen. She heard him moving about now, though he had said
+he was going off to the orchard. She would steal in softly and startle
+him, and then--
+
+Full of happy and loving thoughts, Hildegarde slipped quietly down the
+stairs and across the hall, and peeped in at the kitchen-door to see
+what the farmer was doing. He was at the farther end of the room, with
+his back turned to her, stooping down over his desk. What was he doing?
+What a singular attitude he was in! Then, all in a moment, Hilda's heart
+seemed to stop beating, and her breath came thick and short; for she saw
+that this man before her was not the farmer. The farmer had not long
+elf-locks of black hair straggling over his coat-collar; he was not
+round-shouldered or bow-legged; above all, he would not be picking the
+lock of his own desk, for this was what the man before her was doing.
+Silent as her own shadow, Hildegarde slipped back into the hall and
+stood still a moment, collecting her thoughts. What should she do? Call
+Dame Hartley? The "poor dear" was suffering much, and why should she be
+disturbed? Run to find the farmer? She might have to run all over the
+farm! No; she would attend to this herself. She was not in the least
+afraid. She knew pretty well what ugly face would look up at her when
+she spoke; for she felt sure that the slouching, ungainly figure was
+that of Simon Hartley. Her heart burned with indignation against the
+graceless, thankless churl who could rob the man on whose charity he had
+been living for two years. She made a step forward, with words of
+righteous wrath on her lips; then paused, as a new thought struck her.
+This man was an absolute ruffian; and though she believed him to be an
+absolute coward also, still he must know that she and Dame Hartley were
+alone in the house. He must know also that the farmer was at some
+distance, else he would not have ventured to do this. What should she
+do? she asked herself again. She looked round her, and her eyes fell
+upon the old horse-pistol which rested on a couple of hooks over the
+door. The farmer had taken it down only a day or two before, to show it
+to her and tell her its story. It was not loaded, but Simon did not know
+that. She stepped lightly up on a chair, and in a moment had taken the
+pistol down. It was a formidable-looking weapon, and Hildegarde surveyed
+it with much satisfaction as she turned once more to enter the kitchen.
+Unloaded as it was, it gave her a feeling of entire confidence; and her
+voice was quiet and steady as she said:
+
+"Simon Hartley, what are you doing to your uncle's desk?"
+
+The man started violently and turned round, his hands full of papers,
+which he had taken from one of the drawers. He changed color when he saw
+"the city gal," as he invariably termed Hilda, and he answered sullenly,
+"Gitt'n someth'n for Uncle."
+
+"That is not true," said Hildegarde, quietly, "I have heard your uncle
+expressly forbid you to go near that desk. Put those papers back!"
+
+The man hesitated, his little, ferret eyes shifting uneasily from her to
+the desk and back again. "I guess I ain't goin' to take orders from no
+gal!" he muttered, huskily.
+
+"Put those papers back!" repeated Hildegarde sternly, with a sudden
+light in her gray eyes which made the rascal step backward and thrust
+the papers hurriedly into the drawer. After which he began to bluster,
+as is the manner of cowards. "Pooty thing, city gals comin' hectorin'
+round with their airs an'--"
+
+"Shut the drawer!" said Hildegarde, quietly.
+
+But Simon's sluggish blood was warmed by his little bluster, and he took
+courage as he reflected that this was only a slight girl, and that no
+one else was in the house except "Old Marm," and that many broad meadows
+intervened between him and the farmer's stout arm. He would frighten her
+a bit, and get the money after all.
+
+"We'll see about that!" he said, taking a step towards Hilda, with an
+evil look in his red eyes. "I'll settle a little account with you fust,
+my fine lady. I'll teach you to come spyin' round on me this way. Ye
+ain't give me a civil word sence ye come here, an' I'll pay ye--"
+
+Here Simon stopped suddenly; for without a word Hildegarde had raised
+the pistol (which he had not seen before, as her hand was behind her),
+and levelled it full at his head, keeping her eyes steadily fixed on
+him. With a howl of terror the wretch staggered back, putting up his
+hands to ward off the expected shot.
+
+"Don't shoot!" he gasped, while his color changed to a livid green.
+"I--I didn't mean nothin', I swar I didn't, Miss Graham. I was
+only--foolin'!" and he tried to smile a sickly smile; but his eyes fell
+before the stern glance of the gray eyes fixed so unwaveringly on him.
+
+"Go to your room!" said Hilda, briefly. He hesitated. The lock clicked,
+and the girl took deliberate aim.
+
+"I'm goin'!" shrieked the rascal, and began backing towards the door,
+while Hilda followed step by step, still covering him with her deadly(!)
+weapon. They crossed the kitchen and the back hall in this way, and
+Simon stumbled against the narrow stairs which led to his garret
+room.
+
+"I dassn't turn round to g' up!" he whined; "ye'll shoot me in the
+back." No answer; but the lock clicked again, more ominously than
+before. He turned and fled up the stairs, muttering curses under his
+breath. Hildegarde closed the door at the foot of the stairs, which
+generally stood open, bolted it, and pushed a heavy table against it.
+Then she went back into the kitchen, sat down in her own little chair,
+and--laughed!
+
+Yes, laughed! The absurdity of the whole episode, the ruffian quaking
+and fleeing before the empty pistol, her own martial fierceness and
+sanguinary determination, struck her with irresistible force, and peal
+after peal of silvery laughter rang through the kitchen. Perhaps it was
+partly hysterical, for her nerves were unconsciously strung to a high
+pitch; but she was still laughing, and still holding the terrible pistol
+in her hand, when Dame Hartley entered the kitchen, looking startled
+and uneasy.
+
+"Dear Hilda," said the good woman, "what has been going on? I thought
+surely I heard a man's voice here. And--why! good gracious, child! what
+are you doing with that pistol?"
+
+Hildegarde saw that there was nothing for it but to tell the simple
+truth, which she did in as few words as possible, trying to make light
+of the whole episode. But Dame Hartley was not to be deceived, and saw
+at once the full significance of what had happened. She was deeply
+moved. "My dear, brave child," she said, kissing Hilda warmly, "to think
+of your facing that great villain and driving him away! The courage of
+you! Though to be sure, any one could see it in your eyes, and your
+father a soldier so many of his days too."
+
+"Oh! it was not I who frightened him," said honest Hilda, "it was the
+old pistol." But Nurse Lucy only shook her head and kissed her again.
+The thought of Simon's ingratitude and treachery next absorbed her mind,
+and tears of anger stood in her kind blue eyes.
+
+"It was a black day for my poor man," she said, "when he brought that
+fellow to the house. I mistrusted him from the first look at his sulky
+face. A man who can't look you in the eyes,--well, there! that's my
+opinion of him!"
+
+"Why did the farmer bring him here?" asked Hilda. "I have often
+wondered."
+
+"Why, 'tis a long story, my dear," said Nurse Lucy, smoothing her apron
+and preparing for a comfortable chat ("For," she said, "Simon will not
+dare to stir from his room, even if he could get out, which he can't.").
+"Of all his brothers, my husband loved his brother Simon best. He was a
+handsome, clever fellow, Simon was. Don't you remember, my dear, Farmer
+speaking of him one day when you first came here, and telling how he
+wanted to be a gentleman; and I turned the talk when you asked what
+became of him?" Hilda nodded assent "Well," Nurse Lucy continued, "that
+was because no good came of him, and I knew it vexed Farmer to think on
+it, let alone Simon's son being there. It was all through his wanting to
+be a gentleman that Simon got into bad ways. Making friends with people
+who had money, he got to thinking he must have it, or must make believe
+he had it; so he spent all he had, and then--oh, dear!--he forged his
+father's name, and the farm had to be mortgaged to get him out of
+prison; and then he took to drinking, and went from bad to worse, and
+finally died in misery and wretchedness. Dear, dear! it almost broke
+Jacob's heart, that it did. He had tried, if ever man tried, to save his
+brother; but 'twas of no use. It seemed as if he was _bound_ to ruin
+himself, and nothing could stop him. When he died, his wife (he married
+her, thinking she had money, and it turned out she hadn't a penny) took
+the child and went back to her own people, and we heard nothing more
+till about two years ago, when this boy came to Jacob with a letter from
+his mother's folks. She was dead, and they said _they_ couldn't do for
+him any longer, and he didn't seem inclined to do for himself. Well,
+that is the story, Hilda dear. He has been here ever since, and he has
+been no comfort, no pleasure to us, I must say; but we have tried to do
+our duty by him, and I hoped he might feel in his heart some gratitude
+to his uncle, though he showed none in his actions. And now to think of
+it! to think of it! How shall I tell my poor man?"
+
+"What was his mother like?" asked Hildegarde, trying to turn for the
+moment the current of painful thought.
+
+Nurse Lucy gave a little laugh, even while wiping the tears from her
+eyes. "Poor Eliza!" she said. "She was a good woman, but--well, there!
+she had no _faculty_, as you may say. And homely! you never saw such a
+homely woman, Hilda; for I don't believe there could be two in the
+world. I never think of Eliza without remembering what Jacob said after
+he saw her for the first time. He'd been over to see Simon; and when he
+came back he walked into the kitchen and sat down, never saying a word,
+but just shaking his head over and over again. 'What's the matter,
+Jacob?' I said. 'Matter?' said he. 'Matter enough, Marm Lucy' (he's
+always called me Marm Lucy, my dear, since the very day we were married,
+though I wasn't _very_ much older than you then). 'Simon's married,' he
+said, 'and I've seen his wife.' Of course I was surprised, and I wanted
+to know all about it. 'What sort of a girl is she?' I asked. 'Is she
+pretty? What color is her hair?' But Jacob put up his hand and stopped
+me. 'Thar!' he says, 'don't ask no questions, and I'll tell ye. Fust
+place, she ain't no gal, no more'n yer Aunt Saleny is!' (that was a
+maiden aunt of mine, dear, and well over forty at that time.) 'And what
+does she look like?' 'Wal! D'ye ever see an old cedar fence-rail,--one
+that had been chumped out with a blunt axe, and had laid out in the sun
+and the wind and the snow and the rain till 'twas warped this way, and
+shrunk that way, and twisted every way? Wal! Simon's wife looks as if
+she had swallowed one o' them fence-rails, and _shrunk to it_! Dear,
+dear! how I laughed. And 'twas true, my dear! It was just the way she
+did look. Poor soul! she led a sad life; for when Simon found he'd made
+a mistake about the money, there was no word too bad for him to fling at
+her."
+
+At this moment Farmer Hartley's step was heard in the porch, and Nurse
+Lucy rose hurriedly. "Don't say anything to him, Hilda dear," she
+whispered,--"anything about Simon, I mean. I'll tell him to-morrow; but
+I don't want to trouble him to-night. This is our Faith's
+birthday,--seventeen year old she'd have been to-day; and it's been a
+right hard day for Jacob! I'll tell him about it in the morning."
+
+Alas! when morning came it was too late. The kitchen door was swinging
+idly open; the desk was broken open and rifled; and Simon Hartley was
+gone, and with him the savings of ten years' patient labor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE OLD MILL.
+
+
+It was a sad group that sat in the pleasant kitchen that bright
+September morning. The good farmer sat before his empty desk, seeming
+half stupefied by the blow which had fallen so suddenly upon him, while
+his wife hung about him, reproaching herself bitterly for not having put
+him on his guard the night before. Hildegarde moved restlessly about the
+kitchen, setting things to rights, as she thought, though in reality she
+hardly knew what she was doing, and had already carefully deposited the
+teapot in the coal-hod, and laid the broom on the top shelf of the
+dresser. Her heart was full of wrath and sorrow,--fierce anger against
+the miserable wretch who had robbed his benefactor; sympathy for her
+kind friends, brought thus suddenly from comfort to distress. For she
+knew now that the money which Simon had stolen had been drawn from the
+bank only two days before to pay off the mortgage on the farm.
+
+"I shouldn't ha' minded the money," Farmer Hartley was saying, even now,
+"if I'd ha' been savin' it jest to spend or lay by. I shouldn't ha'
+minded, though 'twould ha' hurt jest the same to hev Simon's son take
+it,--my brother Simon's son, as I allus stood by. But it's hard to let
+the farm go. I tell ye, Marm Lucy, it's terrible hard!" and he bowed his
+head upon his hands in a dejection which made his wife weep anew and
+wring her hands.
+
+"But they will not take the farm from you, Farmer Hartley!" cried Hilda,
+aghast. "They _cannot_ do that, can they? Why, it was your father's, and
+your grandfather's before him."
+
+"And _his_ father's afore _him_!" said the farmer, looking up with a sad
+smile on his kindly face. "But that don't make no difference, ye see,
+Hildy. Lawyer Clinch is a hard man, a terrible hard man; and he's always
+wanted this farm. It's the best piece o' land in the hull township, an'
+he wants it for a market farm."
+
+"But _why_ did you mortgage it to him?" cried Hilda.
+
+"I didn't, my gal; I didn't!" said the farmer, sadly. "He'd kep' watch
+over it ever sence Simon began to get into trouble,--reckon he knew
+pooty well how things would come out; an' bimeby Jason Doble, as held
+the mortgage, he up an' died, an' then Lawyer Clinch stepped in an' told
+the 'xecutors how Jason owed him a big debt, but he didn't want to do
+nothin' onfriendly, so he'd take the mortgage on Hartley's Glen and call
+it square. Th' executors was kind o' fool people, both on 'em--_I_ d'no'
+what possessed Jason Doble to choose them for 'xecutors, when he might
+ha' hed the pick o' the State lunatic asylum an' got some fools as knew
+something; but so 'twas, an' I s'pose so 'twas meant to be. They giv'
+it to him, an' thanked him for takin' it; and he's waited an' waited,
+hopin' to ketch me in a tight place,--an' now he's done it. An' that's
+about all there is to it!" added Farmer Hartley, rising and pushing back
+his massive gray hair. "An' I sha'n't mend it by sittin' an' mowlin'
+over it. Thar's all Simon's work to be done, an' my own too. Huldy, my
+gal!" he held out his honest brown hand to Hildegarde, who clasped it
+affectionately in both of hers, "ye'll stay by Marm Lucy and chirk her
+up a bit. 'T'll be a hard day for her, an' she hasn't no gal of her own
+now to do for her. But ye've grown to be almost a daughter to us, Huldy.
+God bless ye, child!"
+
+His voice faltered as he laid his other hand for a moment on the girl's
+fair head; then, turning hastily away, he took up his battered straw hat
+and went slowly out of the house, an older man, it might have been by
+ten years, than he had been the night before.
+
+Right daughterly did Hilda show herself that day, and Faith herself
+could hardly have been more tender and helpful. Feeling intuitively that
+work was the best balm for a sore heart, she begged for Nurse Lucy's
+help and advice in one and another item of household routine. Then she
+bethought her of the churning, and felt that if this thing was to
+befall, it could not have better befallen than on a Tuesday, when the
+great blue churn stood ready in the dairy, and the cream lay thick and
+yellow in the shining pans.
+
+"Well, that's a fact!" sighed Nurse Lucy. "If I hadn't forgotten my
+butter in all this trouble! And it must be made, sorrow or smiles, as
+the old saying is. Come with me, Hilda dear, if you will. Your face is
+the only bright thing I can see this sad day."
+
+[Illustration: "EACH TOOK A SKIMMER AND SET EARNESTLY TO WORK."]
+
+So they went together into the cool dairy, where the light came in dimly
+through the screen of clematis that covered the window; Hilda bared her
+round white arms, and Nurse Lucy pinned back her calico sleeves from a
+pair that were still shapely, though brown, and each took a skimmer and
+set earnestly to work. The process of skimming cream is in itself a
+soothing, not to say an absorbing one. To push the thick, yellow
+ripples, piling themselves upon the skimmer, across the pan; to see it
+drop, like melted ivory, into the cream-bowl; to pursue floating cream
+islands round and round the pale and mimic sea,--who can do this long,
+and not be comforted in some small degree, even in the midst of heavy
+sorrow? Also there is joy and a never-failing sense of achievement when
+the butter first splashes in the churn. So Nurse Lucy took heart, and
+churned and pressed and moulded her butter; and though some tears fell
+into it, it was none the worse for that.
+
+But as she stamped each ball with the familiar stamp, showing an
+impossible cow with four lame legs--"How many more times," said the good
+woman, "shall I use this stamp; and what kind of butter will they make
+who come after me?" and her tears flowed again. "Lawyer Clinch keeps a
+hired girl, and I never saw _real_ good butter made by a hired girl.
+They haven't the _feeling_ for it; and there's feeling in butter-making
+as much as in anything else."
+
+But here Hilda interposed, and gently hinted that there ought now to be
+"feeling" about getting the farmer's dinner. "We must have the things he
+likes best," she said; "for it will be hard enough to make him eat
+anything. I will make that apple-pudding that he likes so much; and
+there is the fowl for the pie, you know, Nurse Lucy."
+
+The little maid was away on a vacation, so there was plenty of work to
+be done. Dinner-time came and went; and it was not till she had seen
+Dame Hartley safe established on her bed (for tears and trouble had
+brought on a sick headache), and tucked her up under the red quilt, with
+a bottle of hot water at her and a bowl of cracked ice by her side,--it
+was not till she had done this, and sung one or two of the soothing
+songs that the good woman loved, that Hilda had a moment to herself. She
+ran out to say a parting word to the farmer, who was just starting for
+the village in the forlorn hope, which in his heart he knew to be vain,
+of getting an extension of time from Lawyer Clinch while search was
+being made for the wretched Simon.
+
+When old Nancy had trotted away down the lane, Hilda went back and sat
+down in the porch, very tired and sad at heart. It seemed so hard, so
+hard that she could do nothing to save her friends from the threatening
+ruin. She thought of her father, with a momentary flash of hope that
+made her spring from her seat with a half articulate cry of joy; but the
+hope faded as she remembered that he had probably just started for the
+Yosemite Valley, and that there was no knowing when or where a despatch
+would reach him. She sighed, and sank back on the bench with a hopeless
+feeling. Presently she bethought her of her little dog, whom she had not
+seen all day. Jock had grown very dear to her heart, and was usually her
+inseparable companion, except when she was busy with household tasks, to
+which he had an extreme aversion. A mistress, in Jock's opinion, was a
+person who fed one, and took one to walk, and patted one, and who was in
+return to be loved desperately, and obeyed in reason. But sweeping, and
+knocking brooms against one's legs, and paying no attention to one's
+invitations to play or go for a walk, were manifest derelictions from a
+mistress's duty; accordingly, when Hilda was occupied in the house, Jock
+always sat in the back porch, with his back turned to the kitchen door,
+and his tail cocked very high, while one ear listened eagerly for the
+sound of Hilda's footsteps, and the other was thrown negligently
+forward, to convey the impression that he did not really care, but only
+waited to oblige her. And the moment the door opened, and she appeared
+with her hat on, oh, the rapture! the shrieks and squeaks and leaps of
+joy, the wrigglings of body and frantic waggings of tail that ensued!
+
+So this morning, what with all the trouble, and with her knowledge of
+his views, Hildegarde had not thought to wonder where Jock was. But now
+it struck her that she had exchanged no greeting with him since last
+night; that she had heard no little impatient barks, no flapping of tail
+against the door by way of reminder. Where could the little fellow be?
+She walked round the house, calling and whistling softly. She visited
+the barn and the cow-shed and all the haunts where her favorite was wont
+to linger; but no Jock was to be seen. "Perhaps he has gone over to see
+Will," she thought, with a feeling of relief. Indeed, this was very
+possible, as the two dogs were very brotherly, and frequently exchanged
+visits, sometimes acting as letter-carriers for their two mistresses,
+Pink and Hilda. If Jock was at Pink's house, he would be well cared for,
+and Bubble would--but here Hildegarde started, as a new perplexity
+arose. Where _was_ Bubble? They had actually forgotten the boy in the
+confusion and trouble of the day. He had not certainly come to the
+house, as he invariably did; and the farmer had not spoken of him when
+he came in at noon. Perhaps Pink was ill, Hilda thought, with fresh
+alarm. If it should be so, Bubble could not leave her, for Mrs. Chirk
+was nursing a sick woman two or three miles away, and there were no
+other neighbors nearer than the farm. "Oh, my Pink!" cried Hilda; "and I
+cannot go to you at once, for Nurse Lucy must not be left alone in her
+trouble. I must wait, wait patiently till Farmer Hartley comes back."
+
+Patiently she tried to wait. She stole up to her room, and taking up one
+of her best-beloved books, "The Household of Sir Thomas More," lost
+herself for a while in the noble sorrows of Margaret Roper. But even
+this could not hold her long in her restless frame of mind, so she went
+downstairs again, and out into the soft, golden September air, and fell
+to pacing up and down the gravel walk before the house like a slender,
+white-robed sentinel. Presently there was a rustling in the bushes, then
+a hasty, joyful bark, and a little dog sprang forward and greeted
+Hildegarde with every demonstration of affection. "Jock! my own dear
+little Jock!" she cried, stooping down to caress her favorite. But as
+she did so she saw that it was not Jock, but Will, Pink's dog, which was
+bounding and leaping about her. Much puzzled, she nevertheless patted
+the little fellow and shook paws with him, and told him she was glad to
+see him. "But where is your brother?" she cried. "Oh! Willy dog, where
+is Jock, and where is Bubble? Bubble, Will! speak!" Will "spoke" as well
+as he could, giving a short bark at each repetition of the well-known
+name. Then he jumped up on Hilda, and threw back his head with a
+peculiar action which at once attracted her attention. She took him up
+in her arms, and lo! there was a piece of paper, folded and pinned
+securely to his collar. Hastily setting the dog down, she opened the
+note and read as follows:--
+
+     MISS HILDY,
+
+     Simon Hartley he come here early this mornin and he says to
+     me I was diggin potaters for dinner and he come and leaned
+     on the fence and says he I've fixed your city gal up fine he
+     says and I says what yer mean I mean what I says he says
+     I've fixed her up fine. She thinks a heap of that dorg I
+     know that ain't spelled right but it's the way he said it
+     don't she says he I reckon says I Well says he you tell her
+     to look for him in the pit of the old mill says he. And then
+     he larf LAUGHED I was bound I'd get it Miss Hildy I don't
+     see why they spell a thing g and say it f and went away. And
+     I run after him to make him tell me what he d been up to and
+     climbin over the wall I ketched my foot on a stone and the
+     stone come down on my foot and me with it and I didn't know
+     anything till Simon had gone and my foot swoll up so s I
+     couldn't walk and I wouldnt a minded its hurtin Miss Hildy
+     but it s like there wornt no bones in it Pink says I sprante
+     it bad and I started to go over to the Farm on all fours to
+     tell ye but I didn't know anythin g agin and Pink made me
+     come back. We couldnt nether on us get hold of Will but now
+     we got him I hope he l go straite, Miss Hildy Pink wanted to
+     write this for me but I druther write myself you aint punk
+     tuated it she says. She can punk tuate it herself better n I
+     can I an ti cip ate I says. From
+
+     ZERUBBABEL CHIRK
+
+     P.S. I wisht I could get him out for ye Miss Hildy.
+
+If Bubble's letter was funny, Hilda had no heart to see the fun. Her
+tears flowed fast as she realized the fate of her pretty little pet and
+playfellow. The vindictive wretch, too cowardly to face her again, had
+taken his revenge upon the harmless little dog. All day long poor Jock
+had been in that fearful place! He was still only a puppy, and she knew
+he could not possibly get out if he had really been thrown into the pit
+of the great wheel. But--and she gave a cry of pain as the thought
+struck her--perhaps it was only his lifeless body that was lying there.
+Perhaps the ruffian had killed him, and thrown him down there
+afterwards. She started up and paced the walk hurriedly, trying to think
+what she had best do. Her first impulse was to fly at once to the glen;
+but that was impossible, as she must not, she felt, leave Dame Hartley.
+No one was near: they were quite alone. Again she said, "I must wait; I
+_must_ wait till Farmer Hartley comes home." But the waiting was harder
+now than it had been before. She could do nothing but pace up and down,
+up and down, like a caged panther, stopping every few minutes to throw
+back her head and listen for the longed-for sound,--the sound of
+approaching wheels.
+
+Softly the shadows fell as the sun went down. The purple twilight
+deepened, and the stars lighted their silver lamps, while all the soft
+night noises began to make themselves heard as the voices of day died
+away. But Hilda had ears for only one sound. At length, out of the
+silence (or was it out of her own fancy?) she seemed to hear a faint,
+clicking noise. She listened intently: yes, there it was again. There
+was no mistaking the click of old Nancy's hoofs, and with it was a dim
+suggestion of a rattle, a jingle. Yes, beyond a doubt, the farmer was
+coming. Hildegarde flew into the house, and met Dame Hartley just coming
+down the stairs. "The farmer is coming," she said, hastily; "he is
+almost here. I am going to find Jock. I shall be back--" and she was
+gone before the astonished Dame could ask her a question.
+
+Through the kitchen and out of the back porch sped the girl, only
+stopping to catch up a small lantern which hung on a nail, and to put
+some matches in her pocket. Little Will followed her, barking hopefully,
+and together the two ran swiftly through the barn-yard and past the
+cow-shed, and took the path which led to the old mill. The way was so
+familiar now to Hilda that she could have traversed it blindfold; and
+this was well for her, for in the dense shade of the beech-plantation it
+was now pitch dark. The feathery branches brushed her face and caught
+the tendrils of her hair with their slender fingers. There was something
+ghostly in their touch. Hilda was not generally timid, but her nerves
+had been strung to a high pitch all day, and she had no longer full
+control of them. She shivered, and bending her head low, called to the
+dog and hurried on.
+
+Out from among the trees now, into the dim starlit glade; down the
+pine-strewn path, with the noise of falling water from out the beechwood
+at the right, and the ruined mill looming black before her. Now came the
+three broken steps. Yes, so far she had no need of the lantern. Round
+the corner, stepping carefully over the half-buried mill-stone. Groping
+her way, her hand touched the stone wall; but she drew it back hastily,
+so damp and cold the stones were. Darker and darker here; she must light
+the lantern before she ventured down the long flight of steps. The
+match spurted, and now the tiny yellow flame sprang up and shed a faint
+light on the immediate space around her. It only made the outer darkness
+seem more intense. But no matter, she could see two steps in front of
+her; and holding the lantern steadily before her, she stepped carefully
+down and down, until she stood on the firm greensward of the glen. Ah!
+how different everything was now from its usual aspect. The green and
+gold were turned into black upon black. The laughing, dimpling,
+sun-kissed water was now a black, gloomy pool, beyond which the fall
+shimmered white like a water-spirit (Undine,--or was it Kuehleborn, the
+malignant and vengeful sprite?). The firs stood tall and gaunt, closing
+like a spectral guard about the ruined mill, and pointing their long,
+dark fingers in silent menace at the intruder upon their evening repose.
+Hildegarde shivered again, and held her lantern tighter, remembering how
+Bubble had said that the glen was "a tormentin' spooky place after
+dark." She looked fearfully about her as a low wind rustled the
+branches. They bent towards her as if to clutch her; an angry whisper
+seemed to pass from one to the other; and an utterly unreasoning terror
+fell upon the girl. She stood for a moment as if paralyzed with fear,
+when suddenly the little dog gave a sharp yelp, and leaped up on her
+impatiently. The sound startled her into new terror; but in a moment the
+revulsion came, and she almost laughed aloud. Here was she, a great
+girl, almost a woman, cowering and shivering, while a tiny puppy, who
+had hardly any brains at all, was eager to go on. She patted the dog,
+and "taking herself by both ears," as she expressed it afterwards,
+walked steadily forward, pushed aside the dense tangle of vines and
+bushes, and stooped down to enter the black hole which led into the
+vault of the mill.
+
+A rush of cold air met her, and beat against her face like a black wing
+that brushed it. It had a mouldy smell. Holding up the lantern,
+Hildegarde crept as best she could through the narrow opening. A
+gruesome place it was in which she found herself. Grim enough by
+daylight, it was now doubly so; for the blackness seemed like something
+tangible, some shapeless monster which was gathering itself together,
+and shrinking back, inch by inch, as the little spark of light moved
+forward. The gaunt beams, the jagged bits of iron, bent and twisted into
+fantastic shapes, stretched and thrust themselves from every side, and
+again the girl fancied them fleshless arms reaching out to clutch her.
+But hark! was that a sound,--a faint sound from the farthest and darkest
+corner, where the great wheel raised its toothed and broken round from
+the dismal pit?
+
+"Jock! my little Jock!" cried Hildegarde, "are you there?"
+
+A feeble sound, the very ghost of a tiny bark, answered her, and a faint
+scratching was heard. In an instant all fear left Hilda, and she sprang
+forward, holding the lantern high above her head, and calling out words
+of encouragement and cheer. "Courage, Jock! Cheer up, little man! Missis
+is here; Missis will save you! Speak to him, Will! tell him you are
+here."
+
+"Wow!" said Will, manfully, scuttling about in the darkness. "Wa-ow!"
+replied a pitiful squeak from the depths of the wheel-pit. Hilda reached
+the edge of the pit and looked down. In one corner was a little white
+bundle, which moved feebly, and wagged a piteous tail, and squeaked with
+faint rapture. Evidently the little creature was exhausted, perhaps
+badly injured. How should she reach him? She threw the ray of light--oh!
+how dim it was, and how heavy and close the darkness pressed!--on the
+side of the pit, and saw that it was a rough and jagged wall, with
+stones projecting at intervals. A moment's survey satisfied her. Setting
+the lantern carefully at a little distance, and bidding Will "charge"
+and be still, she began the descent, feeling the way carefully with her
+feet, and grasping the rough stones firmly with her hands. Down! down!
+while the huge wheel towered over her, and grinned with all its rusty
+teeth to see so strange a sight. At last her feet touched the soft
+earth; another instant, and she had Jock in her arms, and was fondling
+and caressing him, and saying all sorts of foolish things to him in her
+delight. But a cry of pain from the poor puppy, even in the midst of his
+frantic though feeble demonstrations of joy, told her that all was not
+right; and she found that one little leg hung limp, and was evidently
+broken. How should she ever get him up? For a moment she stood
+bewildered; and then an idea came to her, which she has always
+maintained was the only really clever one she ever had. In her
+pre-occupation of mind she had forgotten all day to take off the brown
+holland apron which she had worn at her work in the morning, and it was
+the touch of this apron which brought her inspiration. Quick as a flash
+she had it off, and tied round her neck, pinned up at both ends to form
+a bag. Then she stooped again to pick up Jock, whom she had laid
+carefully down while she arranged the apron. As she did so, the feeble
+ray from the lantern fell on a space where the ground had been scratched
+up, evidently by the puppy's paws; and in that space something shone
+with a dull glitter. Hildegarde bent lower, and found what seemed to be
+a small brass handle, half covered with earth. She dug the earth away
+with her hands, and pulled and tugged at the handle for some time
+without success; but at length the sullen soil yielded, and she
+staggered back against the wheel with a small metal box in her hands. No
+time now to examine the prize, be it what it might. Into the apron bag
+it went, and on top of it went the puppy, yelping dismally. Then slowly,
+carefully, clinging with hands and feet for life and limb, Hilda
+reascended the wall. Oh, but it was hard work! Her hands were already
+very sore, and the heavy bundle hung back from her neck and half choked
+her. Moreover the puppy was uncomfortable, and yelped piteously, and
+struggled in his bonds, while the sharp corner of the iron box pressed
+painfully against the back of her neck. The jutting stones were far
+apart, and several times it seemed as if she could not possibly reach
+the next one. But the royal blood was fully up. Queen Hildegarde set her
+teeth, and grasped the stones as if her slender hands were nerved with
+steel. At last! at last she felt the edge; and the next moment had
+dragged herself painfully over it, and stood once more on solid ground.
+She drew a long breath, and hastily untying the apron from her neck,
+took poor Jock tenderly in one arm, while with the other she carried the
+lantern and the iron box. Will was jumping frantically about, and trying
+to reach his brother puppy, who responded with squeaks of joy to his
+enraptured greeting.
+
+"Down, Will!" said Hilda, decidedly. "Down, sir! Lie still, Jocky! we
+shall be at home soon now. Patience, little dog!" And Jock tried hard to
+be patient; though it was not pleasant to be squeezed into a ball while
+his mistress crawled out of the hole, which she did with some
+difficulty, laden with her triple burden.
+
+However, they were out at last, and speeding back towards the farm as
+fast as eager feet could carry them. Little thought had Hilda now of
+spectral trees or ghostly gloom. Joyfully she hurried back, up the long
+steps, along the glade, through the beach-plantation; only laughing now
+when the feathery fingers brushed her face, and hugging Jock so tight
+that he squeaked again. Now she saw the lights twinkling in the
+farm-house, and quickening her pace, she fairly ran through lane and
+barnyard, and finally burst into the kitchen, breathless and exhausted,
+but radiant. The farmer and his wife, who were sitting with disturbed
+and anxious looks, rose hastily as she entered.
+
+"Oh, Hilda, dear!" cried Dame Hartley, "we have been terribly frightened
+about you. Jacob has been searching--But, good gracious, child!" she
+added, breaking off hastily, "where have you been, and what have you
+been doing to get yourself into such a state!"
+
+Well might the good woman exclaim, while the farmer gazed in silent
+astonishment. The girl's dress was torn and draggled, and covered with
+great spots and splashes of black. Her face was streaked with dirt, her
+fair hair hanging loose upon her shoulders. Could this be Hilda, the
+dainty, the spotless? But her eyes shone like stars, and her face,
+though very pale, wore a look of triumphant delight.
+
+"I have found him!" she said, simply. "My little Jock! Simon threw him
+into the wheel-pit of the old mill, and I went to get him out. His leg
+is broken, but I know you can set it, Nurse Lucy. Don't look so
+frightened," she added, smiling, seeing that the farmer and his wife
+were fairly pale with horror; "it was not so _very_ bad, after all." And
+in as few words as might be, she told the story of Bubble's note and of
+her strange expedition.
+
+"My child! my child!" cried Dame Hartley, putting her arms round the
+girl, and weeping as she did so. "How could you do such a fearful thing?
+Think, if your foot had slipped you might be lying there now yourself,
+in that dreadful place!" and she shuddered, putting back the tangle of
+fair hair with trembling fingers.
+
+"Ah, but you see, my foot _didn't_ slip, Nurse Lucy!" replied Hilda,
+gayly. "I wouldn't _let_ it slip! And here I am safe and sound, so it's
+really absurd for you to be frightened now, my dear!"
+
+"Why in the name of the airthly didn't ye wait till I kem home, and let
+me go down for ye?" demanded the farmer, who was secretly delighted
+with the exploit, though he tried to look very grave.
+
+"Oh! I--I never thought of it!" said Hildegarde. "My only thought was to
+get down there as quickly as possible. So I waited till I heard you
+coming, for I didn't want to leave Nurse Lucy alone; and then--I went!
+And I will not be scolded," she added quickly, "for I think I have made
+a great discovery." She held one hand behind her as she spoke, and her
+eyes sparkled as she fixed them on the farmer. "Dear Farmer Hartley,"
+she said, "is it true, as Bubble told me, that your father used to go
+down often into the vault of the old mill?"
+
+"Why, yes, he did, frequent!" said the farmer, wondering. "'Twas a fancy
+of his, pokin' about thar. But what--"
+
+"Wait a moment!" cried Hilda, trembling with excitement. "Wait a moment!
+Think a little, dear Farmer Hartley! Did you not tell me that when he
+was dying, your father said something about digging? Try to remember
+just what he said!"
+
+The farmer ran his hand through his shaggy locks with a bewildered look.
+"What on airth are ye drivin' at, Hildy?" he said. "Father? why, he
+didn't say nothin' at the last, 'cept about them crazy di'monds he was
+allus jawin' about. 'Di'monds' says he. And then he says 'Dig!' an' fell
+back on the piller, an' that was all."
+
+"Yes!" cried Hilda. "And you never did dig, did you? But now somebody
+has been digging. Little Jock began, and I finished; and we have
+found--we have found--" She broke off suddenly, and drawing her hand
+from behind her back, held up the iron box. "Take it!" she cried,
+thrusting it into the astonished farmer's hands, and falling on her
+knees beside his chair. "Take it and open it! I think--oh! I am
+sure--that you will not lose the farm after all. Open it quickly,
+_please_!"
+
+[Illustration: "'TAKE IT AND OPEN IT!'"]
+
+Now much agitated in spite of himself, Farmer Hartley bent himself to
+the task of opening the box. For some minutes it resisted stubbornly,
+and even when the lock was broken, the lid clung firmly, and the rusted
+hinges refused to perform their office. But at length they yielded, and
+slowly, unwillingly, the box opened. Hilda's breath came short and
+quick, and she clasped her hands unconsciously as she bent forward to
+look into the mysterious casket. What did she see?
+
+At first nothing but a handkerchief,--a yellow silk handkerchief, of
+curious pattern, carefully folded into a small square and fitting nicely
+inside the box. That was all; but Farmer Hartley's voice trembled as he
+said, in a husky whisper, "Father's hankcher!" and it was with a shaking
+hand that he lifted the folds of silk. One look--and he fell back in his
+chair, while Hildegarde quietly sat down on the floor and cried. For the
+diamonds were there! Big diamonds and little diamonds,--some rough
+and dull, others flashing out sparks of light, as if they shone the
+brighter for their long imprisonment; some tinged with yellow or blue,
+some with the clear white radiance which is seen in nothing else save a
+dewdrop when the morning sun first strikes upon it. There they lay,--a
+handful of stones, a little heap of shining crystals; but enough to pay
+off the mortgage on Hartley's Glen and leave the farmer a rich man for
+life.
+
+Dame Hartley was the first to rouse herself from the silent amaze into
+which they had fallen. "Well, well!" she said, wiping her eyes, "the
+ways of Providence are mysterious. To think of it, after all these
+years! Why, Jacob! Come, my dear, come! You ain't crying, now that the
+Lord, and this blessed child under Him, has taken away all your
+trouble?"
+
+But the farmer, to his own great amazement, _was_ crying. He sobbed
+quietly once or twice, then cleared his throat, and wiped his eyes with
+the old silk handkerchief. "Poor ol' father," he said, simply. "It seems
+kind o' hard that nobody ever believed him, an' we let him die thinkin'
+he was crazy. That takes holt on me; it does, Marm Lucy, now I tell ye!
+Seems like's if I'd been punished for not havin' faith, and now I git
+the reward without havin' deserved it."
+
+"As if you _could_ have reward enough!" cried Hildegarde, laying her
+hand on his affectionately. "But, oh! do just look at them, dear Farmer
+Hartley! Aren't they beautiful? But what is that peeping out of the
+cotton-wool beneath? It is something red."
+
+Farmer Hartley felt beneath the cotton which lined the box, and drew
+out--oh, wonderful! a chain of rubies! Each stone glowed like a living
+coal as he held it up in the lamp-light. Were they rubies, or were they
+drops of blood linked together by a thread of gold?
+
+"The princess's necklace!" cried Hilda. "Oh, beautiful! beautiful! And
+I _knew_ it was true! I knew it all the time."
+
+The old man fixed a strange look, solemn and tender, on the girl as she
+stood at his side, radiant and glowing with happiness. "She said--" his
+voice trembled as he spoke, "that furrin woman--she said it was her
+heart's blood as father had saved. And now it's still blood, Hildy, my
+gal, our heart's blood, that goes out to you, and loves and blesses you
+as if you were our own child come back from the dead." And drawing her
+to him, he clasped the ruby chain round Hilda's neck.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE TREE-PARTY.
+
+
+Another golden day! But the days would all be golden now, thought
+Hildegarde. "Oh, how different it is from yesterday!" she cried to Nurse
+Lucy as she danced about the kitchen. "The sun shone yesterday, but it
+did us no good. To-day it warms my heart, the good sunshine. And
+yesterday the trees seemed to mock me, with all their scarlet and gold;
+but to-day they are dressed up to celebrate our good fortune. Let us
+call them in to rejoice with us, Nurse Lucy. Let us have a tree-party,
+instead of a tea-party!"
+
+"My dear," said Dame Hartley, looking up with a puzzled smile, "what
+_do_ you mean?"
+
+"Oh! I don't mean to invite the whole forest to supper," said
+Hildegarde, laughing. "But you shall see, Nurse Lucy; you shall see.
+Just wait till this afternoon. I must run now over to Pink's, and tell
+her all the wonderful things that have happened, and see how poor Bubble
+is."
+
+Away she went like a flash, through the golden fields, down the lane,
+where the maples made a flaming tent of scarlet over her head, bursting
+suddenly like a whirlwind into the little cottage, where the brother and
+sister, both now nearly helpless, sat waiting with pale and anxious
+faces. At sight of her Pink uttered a cry of delight, while Bubble
+flushed with pleasure; and both were about to pour out a flood of eager
+questions, when Hilda laid her hand over Pink's mouth and made a sign to
+the boy. "Two minutes to get my breath!" she cried, panting; "only two,
+and then you shall hear all." She spent the two minutes in filling the
+kettle and presenting Bubble with a pot of peach-marmalade that Dame
+Hartley had sent him; then, sitting down by the invalid's chair, she
+told from beginning to end the history of the past two days. The recital
+was thrilling enough, and before it was over the pale cheeks were
+crimson, and the two pairs of blue eyes blazed with excitement.
+
+"_Oh!_" cried Bubble, hopping up and down in his chair, regardless of
+the sprained ankle. "Oh, I _say_, Miss Hildy! I dunno what _to_ say!
+Wouldn't _he_ ha' liked it, though? My! 'twas jest like himself. Jes'
+exactly what he'd ha' done."
+
+"What who would have done, Bubble?" asked Hilda, laughing.
+
+"Why, him! Buckle-oh!" said the boy. "I was jest sayin' over the ballid
+when I saw ye comin'. Warn't it like him, Pink, say?"
+
+But Pink drew the stately head down towards her, and kissed the glowing
+cheek, and whispered, "Queen Hildegarde! _my_ queen!"
+
+The tears started to Hilda's eyes as she returned the kiss; but she
+brushed them away, and rose hastily, announcing her intention of
+"setting things to rights" against Mrs. Chirk's return. "You poor
+dears!" she cried, "how did you manage yesterday? If I had only known, I
+would have come and got dinner for you."
+
+"Oh! we got on very well indeed," replied Pink, laughing, "though there
+were one or two mishaps. Fortunately there was plenty of bread in the
+cupboard, where we could easily reach it; and with that and the molasses
+jug, we were in no danger of starvation. But Mother had left a
+custard-pie on the upper shelf, and poor Bubble wanted a piece of it for
+dinner. But neither of us cripples could get at it; and for a long time
+we could think of no plan which would make it possible. At last Bubble
+had a bright idea. You remember the big fork that Mother uses to take
+pies out of the oven? Well, he spliced that on to the broom-handle, and
+then, standing well back, so that he could see (on one foot, of course,
+for he couldn't put the other to the ground), he reached for the pie. It
+was a dreadful moment, Hilda! The pie slid easily on to the fork, and
+for a moment all seemed to promise well; but the next minute, just as
+Bubble began to lower it, he wavered on his one foot--only a little, but
+enough to send the poor pie tumbling to the ground."
+
+"Poor pie!" cried Bubble. "Wal, I like that! Poor _me_, I sh'd say. I'd
+had bread'n m'lasses three meals runnin', Miss Hildy. Now don't you
+think that old pie might ha' come down straight?"
+
+"You should have seen his face, poor dear!" cried Pink. "He really
+couldn't laugh--for almost two minutes."
+
+"Wal, I s'pose 'twas kind o' funny," the boy admitted, while Hilda
+laughed merrily over the catastrophe. "But thar! when one's used to
+standin' on two legs, it's dretful onhandy tryin' to stand on one. We'll
+have bread and jam to-day," he added, with an affectionate glance at
+the pot of marmalade, "and that's a good enough dinner for the Governor
+o' the State."
+
+"Indeed, you shall have more than that!" cried Hildegarde. "Nurse Lucy
+does not need me before dinner, so I will get your dinner for you."
+
+So the active girl made up the fire anew, swept the floor, dusted tables
+and chairs, and made the little room look tidy and cheerful, as Pink
+loved to see it. Then she ran down to the cellar, and reappeared with a
+basket of potatoes and a pan of rosy apples.
+
+"Now we will perform a trio!" she said. "Pink, you shall peel and core
+the apples for apple-sauce, and Bubble shall pare the potatoes, while I
+make biscuit and gingerbread."
+
+Accordingly, she rolled up her sleeves and set busily to work; the
+others followed her example, and fingers and tongues moved ceaselessly,
+in cheerful emulation of each other.
+
+"I'd like to git hold o' Simon Hartley!" said Bubble, slicing vengefully
+at a big potato. "I wish't he was this tater, so I do! _I'd_ skin him!
+Yah! ornery critter! An' him standin' thar an' grinnin' at me over the
+wall, an' I couldn't do nothin'! Seemed's though I sh'd _fly_, Miss
+Hildy, it did; an' then not to be able to crawl even! I sw--I tell ye,
+now, I didn't like that."
+
+"Poor Bubble!" said Hilda, compassionately, "I'm sure you didn't. And
+did he really start to crawl over to the farm, Pink?"
+
+"Indeed he did!" replied Pink. "Nothing that I could say would keep him
+from trying it; so I bandaged his ankle as well as I could, and off he
+started. But he fainted twice before he got to the gate, so there was
+nothing for it but to crawl back again, and--have the knees of his
+trousers mended."
+
+"Dear boy!" said Hilda, patting the curly head affectionately. "Good,
+faithful boy! I shall think a great deal more of it, Bubble, than if
+you had been able to walk all the way. And, after all," she added, "I am
+glad I had to do it myself,--go down to the mill, I mean. It is
+something to remember! I would not have missed it."
+
+"No more wouldn't I!" cried Bubble, enthusiastically. "I'd ha' done it
+for ye twenty times, ye know that, Miss Hildy; but I druther ha' hed you
+do it;" and Hildegarde understood him perfectly.
+
+The simple meal prepared and set out, Hilda bade farewell to her two
+friends, and flitted back to the farm. Mrs. Chirk was to return in the
+evening, so she felt no further anxiety about them.
+
+She found the farmer just returned from the village in high spirits.
+Squire Gaylord had examined the diamonds, pronounced them of great
+value, and had readily advanced the money to pay off the mortgage,
+taking two or three large stones as security. Lawyer Clinch had
+reluctantly received his money, and relinquished all claim upon
+Hartley's Glen, though with a very bad grace.
+
+"He kind o' insinuated that the di'monds had prob'ly ben stole by Father
+_or_ me, he couldn't say which; and he said somethin' about inquirin'
+into the matter. But Squire Gaylord shut him up pooty quick, by sayin'
+thar was more things than that as might be inquired into, and if he
+began, others might go on; and Lawyer Clinch hadn't nothin' more to say
+after that."
+
+When dinner was over, and everything "redded up," Hildegarde sent Dame
+Hartley upstairs to take a nap, and escorted the farmer as far as the
+barn on his way to the turnip-field. Then, "the coast being clear," she
+said to herself, "we will prepare for the tree-party."
+
+Accordingly, arming herself with a stout pruning-knife, she took her way
+to the "wood-lot," which lay on the north side of the house. The
+splendor of the trees, which were now in full autumnal glory, gave Hilda
+a sort of rapture as she approached them. What had she ever seen so
+beautiful as this,--the shifting, twinkling myriads of leaves, blazing
+with every imaginable shade of color above the black, straight trunks;
+the deep, translucent blue of the sky bending above; the golden light
+which transfused the whole scene; the crisp freshness of the afternoon
+air? She wanted to sing, to dance, to do everything that was joyous and
+free. But now she had work to do. She visited all her favorite
+trees,--the purple ash, the vivid, passionate maples, the oaks in their
+sober richness of murrey and crimson. On each and all she levied
+contributions, cutting armful after armful, and carried them to the
+house, piling them in splendid heaps on the shed-floor. Then, after
+carefully laying aside a few specially perfect branches, she began the
+work of decoration. Over the chimney-piece she laid great boughs of
+maple, glittering like purest gold in the afternoon light, which
+streamed broadly in through the windows. Others--scarlet, pink, dappled
+red, and yellow--were placed over the windows, the doors, the dresser.
+She filled the corners with stately oak-boughs, and made a bower of the
+purple ash in the bow-window,--Faith's window. Then she set the
+tea-table with the best china, every plate and dish resting on a mat of
+scarlet leaves, while a chain of yellow ones outlined the shining square
+board. A tiny scarlet wreath encircled the tea-kettle, and even the
+butter-dish displayed its golden balls beneath an arch of flaming
+crimson. This done, she filled a great glass bowl with purple-fringed
+asters and long, gleaming sprays of golden-rod, and setting it in the
+middle of the table, stood back with her head a little on one side and
+surveyed the general effect.
+
+"Good!" was her final comment; "very good! And now for my own part."
+
+She gathered in her apron the branches first selected, and carried them
+up to her own room, where she proceeded to strip off the leaves and to
+fashion them into long garlands. As her busy fingers worked, her
+thoughts flew hither and thither, bringing back the memories of the past
+few days. Now she stood in the kitchen, pistol in hand, facing the
+rascal Simon Hartley; and she laughed to think how he had shaken and
+cowered before the empty weapon. Now she was in the vault of the ruined
+mill, with a thousand horrors of darkness pressing on her, and only the
+tiny spark of light in her lantern to keep off the black and shapeless
+monsters. Now she thought of the kind farmer, with a throb of pity, as
+she recalled the hopeless sadness of his face the night before. Just the
+very night before, only a few hours; and now how different everything
+was! Her heart gave a little happy thrill to think that she, Hilda, the
+"city gal," had been able to help these dear friends in their trouble.
+They loved her already, she knew that; they would love her more now. Ah!
+and they would miss her all the more, now that she must leave them so
+soon.
+
+Then, like a flash, her thoughts reverted to the plan she had been
+revolving in her mind two days before, before all these strange things
+had happened. It was a delightful little plan! Pink was to be sent to a
+New York hospital,--the very best hospital that could be found; and
+Hildegarde hoped--she thought--she felt almost sure that the trouble
+could be greatly helped, if not cured altogether. And then, when Pink
+was well, or at least a great, great deal better, she was to come and
+live at the farm, and help Nurse Lucy, and sing to the farmer, and be
+all the comfort--no, not all, but nearly the comfort that Faith would
+have been if she had lived. And Bubble--yes! Bubble must go to
+school,--to a good school, where his bright, quick mind should learn
+everything there was to learn. Papa would see to that, Hilda knew he
+would. Bubble would delight Papa! And then he would go to college, and
+by and by become a famous doctor, or a great lawyer, or--oh! Bubble
+could be anything he chose, she was sure of it.
+
+So the girl's happy thoughts flew on through the years that were to
+come, weaving golden fancies even as her fingers were weaving the gay
+chains of shining leaves; but let us hope the fancy-chains, airy as they
+were, were destined to become substantial realities long after the
+golden wreaths had faded.
+
+But now the garlands were ready, and none too soon; for the shadows were
+lengthening, and she heard Nurse Lucy downstairs, and Farmer Hartley
+would be coming in soon to his tea. She took from a drawer her one white
+frock, the plain lawn which had once seemed so over-plain to her, and
+with the wreaths of scarlet and gold she made a very wonderful thing of
+it. Fifteen minutes' careful work, and Hilda stood looking at her image
+in the glass, well pleased and a little surprised; for she had been too
+busy of late to think much about her looks, and had not realized how sun
+and air and a free, out-door life had made her beauty blossom and glow
+like a rose in mid-June. With a scarlet chaplet crowning her fair locks,
+bands of gold about waist and neck and sleeves, and the whole skirt
+covered with a fantastic tracery of mingled gold and fire, she was a
+vision of almost startling loveliness. She gave a little happy laugh.
+"Dear old Farmer!" she said, "he likes to see me fine. I think this will
+please him." And light as a thistledown, the girl floated downstairs and
+danced into the kitchen just as Farmer Hartley entered it from the other
+side.
+
+"Highty-tighty!" cried the good man, "what's all this? Is there a fire?
+Everything's all ablaze! Why, Hildy! bless my soul!" He stood in silent
+delight, looking at the lovely figure before him, with its face of rosy
+joy and its happy, laughing eyes.
+
+"It's a tree-party," explained Hildegarde, taking his two hands and
+leading him forward. "I'm part of it, you see, Farmer Hartley. Do you
+like it? Is it pretty? It's to celebrate our good fortune," she added;
+and putting her arm in the old man's, she led him about the room,
+pointing out the various decorations, and asking his approval.
+
+Farmer Hartley admired everything greatly, but in an absent way, as if
+his mind were preoccupied with other matters. He turned frequently
+towards the door, as if he expected some one to follow him. "All for
+me?" he kept asking. "All for me and Marm Lucy, Hildy? Ye--ye ain't
+expectin' nobody else to tea, now?"
+
+"No," said Hilda, wondering. "Of course not. Who else is there to come?
+Bubble has sprained his ankle, you know, and Pink--"
+
+"Yes, yes; I know, I know!" said the farmer, still with that backward
+glance at the door. And then, as he heard some noise in the yard, he
+added hurriedly: "At the same time, ye know, Hildy, people do sometimes
+drop in to tea--kind o' onexpected-like, y' understand. And--and--all
+this pretty show might--might seem to--indicate, ye see--"
+
+"Jacob Hartley? what are you up to?" demanded Nurse Lucy, rather
+anxiously, as she stood at the shed-door watching him intently. "Does
+your head feel dizzy? You'd better go and lie down; you've had too much
+excitement for a man of--"
+
+"Oh, you thar, Marm Lucy?" cried the farmer, with a sigh of relief that
+was half a chuckle, "Now, thar! you tell Hildy that folks does sometimes
+drop in--onexpected-like--folks from a _con_sid'able distance sometimes.
+Why, I've known 'em--" But here he stopped suddenly. And as Hilda,
+expecting she knew not what, stood with hands clasped together, and
+beating heart, the door was thrown open and a strong, cheery voice
+cried, "Well, General!" Another moment, and she was clasped in her
+father's arms.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST WORD.
+
+
+The lovely autumn is gone, and winter is here. Mr. and Mrs. Graham have
+long since been settled at home, and Hildegarde is with them. How does
+it fare with her, the new Hildegarde, under the old influences and amid
+the old surroundings? For answer, let us take the word of her oldest
+friend,--the friend who "_knows_ Hildegarde!" Madge Everton has just
+finished a long letter to Helen McIvor, who is spending the winter in
+Washington, and there can be no harm in our taking a peep into it.
+
+     "You ask me about Hilda Graham; but, _alas!_ I have
+     NOTHING pleasant to tell. My dear, Hilda is simply
+     LOST to us! It is all the result of that _dreadful_
+     summer spent among _swineherds_. You know what the Bible
+     says! I don't know exactly _what_, but something _terrible_
+     about that sort of thing. Of course it is _partly_ her
+     mother's influence as well. I have always DREADED
+     it for Hilda, who is so _sensitive_ to _impressions_. Why, I
+     remember, as far back as the first year that we were at Mme.
+     Haut-Ton's, Mrs. Graham saying to Mamma, 'I wish we could
+     interest our girls a little in _sensible_ things!' My dear,
+     she meant _hospitals_ and _soup-kitchens_ and things! And
+     Mamma said (you know Mamma isn't in the _least_ afraid of
+     Mrs. Graham, though I confess I AM!), 'My _dear_
+     Mrs. Graham, if there is _one_ thing Society will
+     NOT tolerate, it is a _sensible_ woman. Our girls
+     might as well have the small-pox at once, and be done with
+     it.' Wasn't it _clever_ of Mamma? And Mrs. Graham just
+     LOOKED at her as if she were a _camel_ from
+     _Barnum's_.
+
+     "Well, poor Hildegarde is sensible enough _now_ to satisfy
+     _even_ her mother. Ever since she came home from that
+     _odious_ place, it has been one round of hospitals and
+     tenement-houses and _sloughs of horror_. I don't mean that
+     she has given up school, for she is studying harder than
+     ever; but out of school she is simply _swallowed up_ by
+     these wretched things. I have remonstrated with her _almost_
+     on my KNEES. 'Hildegarde,' I said one day, 'do you
+     REALIZE that you are practically _giving up_ your
+     _whole_ LIFE? If you once _lose your place_ in
+     Society among those of your _own age_ and _position_, you
+     NEVER can regain it. Do you REALIZE this, Hilda?
+     for I feel it a SOLEMN DUTY to _warn_ you!' My
+     dear, she actually LAUGHED! and only said, 'Dear
+     Madge, I have only just begun to have any life!' And that
+     was _all_ I could get out of her, for just then some one
+     came in. But even _this_ is not _the worst_! Oh, Helen! she
+     has some of the _creatures_ whom she saw this summer,
+     actually _staying_ in the house,--in THAT house,
+     which we used to call Castle Graham, and were almost afraid
+     to enter ourselves, so stately and beautiful it was! There
+     are two of these creatures,--a girl about our age, some sort
+     of dreadful cripple, who goes about in a bath-chair, and a
+     freckled imp of a boy. The girl is at ---- Hospital for
+     treatment, but spends _every Sunday_ at the Grahams', and
+     Hilda devotes _most_ of her spare time to her. The boy is at
+     school,--one of the _best_ schools in the city. 'But _who_
+     are these people?' I hear you cry. My dear! they are simply
+     _ignorant paupers_, who were Hilda's constant companions
+     through that _disastrous summer_. Now their mother is dead,
+     and the people with whom Hilda stayed have adopted them. The
+     boy is to be a doctor, and the girl is going to get well,
+     Dr. George says. (_He_ calls her a beautiful and interesting
+     creature; but you know what _that_ means. _Any diseased_
+     creature is beautiful to _him_!) Well, and THESE,
+     my dear Helen, are Hilda Graham's FRIENDS, for whom
+     she has _deserted_ her OLD _ones_! for though she
+     is _unchanged_ towards me when I see her, I hardly ever
+     _do_ see her. She cares nothing for _my_ pursuits, and I
+     certainly have NO intention of joining in _hers_. I
+     met her the other day on _Fifth Avenue_, walking beside that
+     _odious_ bath-chair, which the freckled boy was pushing. She
+     looked so _lovely_ (for she is prettier than ever, with a
+     fine color and eyes like _stars_), and was talking so
+     earnestly, and walking somehow as if she were treading on
+     air, it sent a PANG through my heart. I just paused
+     an instant (for though I _trust_ I am not SNOBBISH,
+     Helen, still, I _draw the line_ at bath-chairs, and will
+     _not_ be seen standing by one), and said in a low tone,
+     meant _only_ for _her ear_, 'Ah! has _Queen Hildegarde_ come
+     to _this_?' My dear, she only LAUGHED! But that
+     _girl_, that cripple, looked up with a smile and a sort of
+     flash over her face, and said, just as if she _knew_ me,
+     'Yes, Miss Everton! the Queen has come to her kingdom!'"
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+Selections from The Page Company's Books for Young People
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE BLUE BONNET SERIES
+
+_Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.75
+
+
+A TEXAS BLUE BONNET
+
+By CAROLINE E. JACOBS.
+
+"The book's heroine, Blue Bonnet, has the very finest kind of wholesome,
+honest, lively girlishness."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._
+
+
+BLUE BONNET'S RANCH PARTY
+
+By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND EDYTH ELLERBECK READ.
+
+"A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every chapter."--_Boston
+Transcript._
+
+
+BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON
+
+By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND LELA HORN RICHARDS.
+
+"It is bound to become popular because of its wholesomeness and its many
+human touches."--_Boston Globe._
+
+
+BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE
+
+By CAROLINE E. JACOBS AND LELA HORN RICHARDS.
+
+"It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their teens."--_New
+York Sun._
+
+
+BLUE BONNET--DEBUTANTE
+
+By LELA HORN RICHARDS.
+
+An interesting picture of the unfolding of life for Blue Bonnet.
+
+
+BLUE BONNET OF THE SEVEN STARS
+
+By LELA HORN RICHARDS.
+
+"The author's intimate detail and charm of narration gives the reader an
+interesting story of the heroine's war activities."--_Pittsburgh
+Leader._
+
+
+ONLY HENRIETTA
+
+BY LELA HORN RICHARDS.
+
+Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated $1.90
+
+"It is an inspiring story of the unfolding of life for a young girl--a
+story in which there is plenty of action to hold interest and wealth of
+delicate sympathy and understanding that appeals to the hearts of young
+and old."--_Pittsburgh Leader._
+
+
+HENRIETTA'S INHERITANCE: A Sequel to "Only Henrietta"
+
+BY LELA HORN RICHARDS.
+
+Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated $1.90
+
+"One of the most noteworthy stories for girls issued this season. The
+life of Henrietta is made very real, and there is enough incident in the
+narrative to balance the delightful characterization."--_Providence
+Journal._
+
+
+THE YOUNG KNIGHT
+
+By I.M.B. of K.
+
+Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated $1.75
+
+The clash of broad-sword on buckler, the twanging of bow-strings and the
+cracking of spears splintered by whirling maces resound through this
+stirring tale of knightly daring-do.
+
+
+THE YOUNG CAVALIERS
+
+By I.M.B. of K.
+
+Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated $1.75
+
+"There have been many scores of books written about the Charles Stuarts
+of England, but never a merrier and more pathetic one than 'The Young
+Cavaliers.'"--_Family Herald._
+
+"The story moves quickly, and every page flashes a new thrill before the
+reader, with plenty of suspense and excitement. There is valor,
+affection, romance, chivalry and humor in this fascinating
+tale."--_Kansas City Kansan._
+
+
+
+
+THE MARJORY-JOE SERIES
+
+By ALICE E. ALLEN
+
+_Each one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, per volume_ $1.50
+
+
+JOE, THE CIRCUS BOY AND ROSEMARY
+
+These are two of Miss Allen's earliest and most successful stories,
+combined in a single volume to meet the insistent demands from young
+people for these two particular tales.
+
+
+THE MARTIE TWINS: Continuing the Adventures of Joe, the Circus Boy
+
+"The chief charm of the story is that it contains so much of human
+nature. It is so real that it touches the heart strings."--_New York
+Standard._
+
+
+MARJORY, THE CIRCUS GIRL
+
+A sequel to "Joe, the Circus boy," and "The Martie Twins."
+
+
+MARJORY AT THE WILLOWS
+Continuing the story of Marjory, the Circus Girl.
+
+"Miss Allen does not write impossible stories, but delightfully pins her
+little folk right down to this life of ours, in which she ranges
+vigorously and delightfully."--_Boston Ideas._
+
+
+MARJORY'S HOUSE PARTY: Or, What Happened at Clover Patch
+
+"Miss Allen certainly knows how to please the children and tells them
+stories that never fail to charm."--_Madison Courier._
+
+
+MARJORY'S DISCOVERY
+
+This new addition to the popular MARJORY-JOE SERIES is as lovable and
+original as any of the other creations of this writer of charming
+stories. We get little peeps at the precious twins, at the healthy
+minded Joe and sweet Marjory. There is a bungalow party, which lasts the
+entire summer, in which all of the characters of the previous
+MARJORY-JOE stories participate, and their happy times are delightfully
+depicted.
+
+
+
+
+THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES
+
+By HARRISON ADAMS
+
+_Each 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $1.65
+
+
+THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO;
+OR, CLEARING THE WILDERNESS.
+
+"Such books as this are an admirable means of stimulating among the
+young Americans of to-day interest in the story of their pioneer
+ancestors and the early days of the Republic."--_Boston Globe._
+
+
+THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES;
+OR, ON THE TRAIL OF THE IROQUOIS.
+
+"The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not only interesting
+but instructive as well and shows the sterling type of character which
+these days of self-reliance and trial produced."--_American Tourist,
+Chicago._
+
+
+THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI;
+OR, THE HOMESTEAD IN THE WILDERNESS.
+
+"The story is told with spirit, and is full of adventure."--_New York
+Sun._
+
+
+THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI;
+OR, IN THE COUNTRY OF THE SIOUX.
+
+"Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic situations, true
+to historic perspective, this story is a capital one for
+boys."--_Watchman Examiner, New York City._
+
+
+THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOWSTONE;
+OR, LOST IN THE LAND OF WONDERS.
+
+"There is plenty of lively adventure and action and the story is well
+told."--_Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn._
+
+
+THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA;
+OR, IN THE WILDERNESS OF THE GREAT NORTHWEST.
+
+"The story is full of spirited action and contains much valuable
+historical information."--_Boston Herald._
+
+
+
+
+THE FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES
+
+By HARRIET LUMMIS SMITH
+
+_Each one volume, cloth, decorative, 12mo, illustrated, per volume_
+$1.75
+
+
+THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE
+
+"It is a book that cheers, that inspires to higher thinking; it knits
+hearts; it unfolds neighborhood plans in a way that makes one tingle to
+try carrying them out, and most of all it proves that in daily life,
+threads of wonderful issues are being woven in with what appears the
+most ordinary of material, but which in the end brings results stranger
+than the most thrilling fiction."--_Belle Kellogg Towne in The Young
+People's Weekly, Chicago._
+
+
+PEGGY RAYMOND'S VACATION
+
+"It is a clean, wholesome, hearty story, well told and full of incident.
+It carries one through experiences that hearten and brighten the
+day."--_Utica, N.Y., Observer._
+
+
+PEGGY RAYMOND'S SCHOOL DAYS
+
+"It is a bright, entertaining story, with happy girls, good times,
+natural development, and a gentle earnestness of general tone."--_The
+Christian Register, Boston._
+
+
+THE FRIENDLY TERRACE QUARTETTE
+
+"The story is told in easy and entertaining style and is a most
+delightful narrative, especially for young people. It will also make the
+older readers feel younger, for while reading it they will surely live
+again in the days of their youth."--_Troy Budget._
+
+
+PEGGY RAYMOND'S WAY
+
+"The author has again produced a story that is replete with wholesome
+incidents and makes Peggy more lovable than ever as a companion and
+leader."--_World of Books._
+
+"It possesses a plot of much merit and through its 324 pages it weaves a
+tale of love and of adventure which ranks it among the best books for
+girls."--_Cohoe-American._
+
+
+
+
+FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES
+
+By CHARLES H.L. JOHNSTON
+
+_Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, per volume_ $2.00
+
+
+FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS
+
+"More of such books should be written, books that acquaint young readers
+with historical personages in a pleasant, informal way."--_New York
+Sun._
+
+
+FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS
+
+"Mr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, and his relation of
+battles, sieges and struggles of these famous Indians with the whites
+for the possession of America is a worthy addition to United States
+History."--_New York Marine Journal._
+
+
+FAMOUS SCOUTS
+
+"It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascination for boys
+and young men."--_New London Day._
+
+
+FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVENTURERS OF THE SEA
+
+"The tales are more than merely interesting; they are entrancing,
+stirring the blood with thrilling force."-_Pittsburgh Post._
+
+
+FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES OF THE BORDER
+
+"The accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly readable, making a
+book of wide appeal to all who love the history of actual
+adventure."--_Cleveland Leader._
+
+
+FAMOUS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS OF AMERICA
+
+"The book is an epitome of some of the wildest and bravest adventures of
+which the world has known."--_Brooklyn Daily Eagle._
+
+
+FAMOUS GENERALS OF THE GREAT WAR
+
+Who Led the United States and Her Allies to a Glorious Victory.
+
+"The pages of this book have the charm of romance without its unreality.
+The book illuminates, with life-like portraits, the history of the World
+War."--_Rochester Post Express._
+
+
+FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES (Con.)
+
+By EDWIN WILDMAN
+
+
+FAMOUS LEADERS OF INDUSTRY.--First Series
+
+"Are these stories interesting? Let a boy read them; and tell
+you."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+FAMOUS LEADERS OF INDUSTRY.--Second Series
+
+"As fascinating as fiction are these biographies, which emphasize their
+humble beginning and drive home the truth that just as every soldier of
+Napoleon carried a marshal's baton in his knapsack, so every American
+youngster carries potential success under his hat."--_New York World._
+
+
+THE FOUNDERS OF AMERICA (Lives of Great Americans from the Revolution to
+the Monroe Doctrine)
+
+"How can one become acquainted with the histories of some of the famous
+men of the United States? A very good way is to read 'The Founders of
+America,' by Edwin Wildman, wherein the life stories of fifteen men who
+founded our country are told"--_New York Post._
+
+
+FAMOUS LEADERS OF CHARACTER (Lives of Great Americans from the Civil War
+to Today)
+
+"An informing, interesting and inspiring book for boys."--_Presbyterian
+Banner._
+
+" ... Is a book that should be read by every boy in the whole
+country...."--_Atlanta Constitution._
+
+
+FAMOUS AMERICAN NAVAL OFFICERS
+
+With a complete index.
+
+By CHARLES LEE LEWIS
+
+_Professor, United States Naval Academy, Annapolis_
+
+"Professor Lewis does not make the mistake of bringing together simply a
+collection of biographical sketches. In connection with the life of John
+Paul Jones, Stephen Decatur, and other famous naval officers, he groups
+the events of the period in which the officer distinguished himself, and
+combines the whole into a colorful and stirring narrative."--_Boston
+Herald._
+
+
+STORIES BY EVALEEN STEIN
+
+Each, one volume, cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, with a jacket in
+color $1.65
+
+
+THE CHRISTMAS PORRINGER
+
+This story happened many hundreds of years ago in the quaint Flemish
+city of Bruges and concerns a little girl named Karen, who worked at
+lace-making with her aged grandmother.
+
+
+GABRIEL AND THE HOUR BOOK
+
+"No works in juvenile fiction contain so many of the elements that stir
+the hearts of children and grown-ups as well as do the stories so
+admirably told by this author."--_Louisville Daily Courier._
+
+
+A LITTLE SHEPHERD OF PROVENCE
+
+"The story should be one of the influences in the life of every child to
+whom good stories can be made to appeal."--_Public Ledger._
+
+
+THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY
+
+"This touching and pleasing story is told with a wealth of interest
+coupled with enlivening descriptions of the country where its scenes are
+laid and of the people thereof"--_Wilmington Every Evening._
+
+
+WHEN FAIRIES WERE FRIENDLY
+
+"The stories are music in prose--they are like pearls on a chain of
+gold--each word seems exactly the right word in the right place; the
+stories sing themselves out, they are so beautifully expressed."--_The
+Lafayette Leader._
+
+
+PEPIN: A Tale of Twelfth Night
+
+"This retelling of an old Twelfth Night romance is a creation almost as
+perfect as her 'Christmas Porringer.'"--_Lexington Herald._
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Queen Hildegarde, by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards
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