A Daughter of the Rich Part 36

could kind of see into the meanin' of this flare-up of Rose-pose's.

Don't seem natural for Rose to go flyin' off at a tangent that way.

What's she got against him, anyway? He 's about as likely as you 'll find. Beats me!" Chi leaned both elbows on the table, unmindful that he was crushing some of the flowers, sank his chin in the palms of his hands and thought hard for full a minute.

"I know Hazel and Rose have had some little trouble this afternoon--the first quarrel they have had--but Rose is too old to allow herself to lose her control in that way. I can't imagine what made her--" Mrs.

Blossom broke off suddenly, for Chi had raised his head and sent such a look of intelligence across the table, handing her, as he did so, Jack Sherrill's card, which Rose in her confusion had neglected to read, that, in a flash, something of the truth was revealed to Mrs. Blossom.

She took the card. On the back was written, enclosed in quotation marks:--

"For I am thine Whilst the stars shall shine, To the last--to the last."

"O Chi!" was all Mary Blossom said; but the tears filled her eyes, and, reaching across the table, her hand was clasped in Chi's strong one.

"I wish Ben was to home," sighed Chi, so lugubriously that Mrs. Blossom laughed through her tears.

"Oh, it is n't so bad as that, Chi. Girls will be girls, and grow up, and hearts will ache even when we 're young. We won't make too much of it. I don't understand the ins and outs of it, but I do know Hazel has said her family thought he was engaged to Miss Seaton. I 'm sure I 've thought so all along, and it never occurred to me there could be any danger for Rose under the circ.u.mstances. The mere fact of his name being connected so closely with Miss Seaton's would be a safeguard. Then, too, I fear he is spoiled by women on account of his riches."

"I don't know about that Miss Seaver,--but if it's as you say, I kind of wish Rose could cut her out."

"Sh-sh, Chi!" said Mrs. Blossom, reprovingly.

"Well, I do," Chi retorted with some warmth. "She ain't fit to tie Rose's old berryin' shoes, 'n' I saw her lookin' at her feet that day we was sellin' berries down to Barton's to the tavern, 'n' snickerin' so mean like, 'n' Rose just showed her grit--'n' I wish she'd show it again 'n' cut her out. I _do_, by George Washin'ton!" Chi rose up in his wrath, lighted his lantern, and started for the shed. At the door he turned:--

"I wish Ben was to home," he said again. "There 's goin' to be the biggest kind of a snow-down before long, 'n' he 'll get blocked on the road, sure as blazes."

"He 'll be back in two days, at the most, Chi; I would n't worry."

"I ain't worryin'; I 'm just sayin' I wish he was to home," repeated Chi, doggedly, and shut the door.

Mrs. Blossom smiled. She knew Chi's crotchets. When there was any disturbance of the family peace, Chi was apt to be depressed, and sometimes despondent. She put away the flowers in the cold pantry, smiling as she tied up Maria-Ann's box:

"He _is_ universal," she said to herself. "I know it irritated Rose to be cla.s.sed with her and Miss Seaton; but things will work around right with time. I can trust to Rose's common-sense.--Not a prayer to-night!"

she added thoughtfully. "Well, we 'll make it up to-morrow." She took up the prize books. "That dear March! What a manly fellow he is getting to be--and so handsome. I wonder--" here Mary Blossom checked herself, laughing softly. "Goodness! if Ben were here what a goose he would think me--a regular old Mother Goose--" And again she laughed as she put out the light.

XX

SNOW-BOUND

They were all on the porch the next morning to see March off. It was not so very cold, but there was a marked chill in the air and the sky was leaden.

"It's my last day, mother, then vacation for two weeks. Hooray!" He leaped into the saddle, and Fleet reared gently to show her approval.

"Don't you get out a little earlier to-day, March?" said his mother, looking up at the leaden sky. "I 'm afraid it's going to snow heavily.

Promise me not to start from Barton's if the storm is a hard one; you can stay at the inn or at the princ.i.p.al's. I would rather you remained away from home two days, or over Sunday, than to have you attempt the Mountain in too severe a storm."

"I 'll be careful, mother."

"Better give your promise to your mother, March; she 'll feel better 'bout you 're not startin' out," said Chi.

"I promise, little Mother Blossom." He threw himself off the horse, and gave her another kiss; "I would n't go to-day except for the exams.--I can't miss them."

"Good luck, dear," said his mother, and her eyes followed the horse and rider down the Mountain.

"I 'll go over the first thing 'n' give them posies to Marier-Ann, 'n'

then I 'll make tracks for home, 'n' get my snow-shed up before it begins to come down."

"Do you think we shall need it?"

"Sure 's fate," replied Chi, laconically, and went into the barn to harness Bess.

It was noon before Chi had set up his snow-shed, a long, low, wooden tunnel, which he had manufactured to connect the woodshed door with a side door of the barn. By means of this he was enabled, in unusually heavy storms, to communicate with the barn and attend to the stock without "shovelling out."

It was about three in the afternoon when the first flakes began to fall, or rather to "spit," as Chi expressed it, and the snow fell intermittently and lightly until four, when there was a sudden change of wind. It veered to the north-east, and blast after blast, charged with icy particles, hurled itself against the Mountain. Within half an hour it was almost as dark as at midnight, and the snow swept in drifting clouds over woodlands and pasture. When the wind ceased for a moment, white, soft avalanches descended upon farmhouse, barn, and mountain-road, until, by six o'clock, the road was impa.s.sable and the drifts at the back of the house a foot above the bedroom windows. Chi had made all snug for the night.

"This beats anything I ever saw, Mis' Blossom. I 'm mighty glad Ben ain't comin' home to-day, 'n' that March gave you the promise to stay at Barton's if it stormed hard."

"You don't think he would venture to start, do you, Chi?" asked Mrs.

Blossom, trying not to appear anxious for the sake of the others.

"Bless you, no;" was Chi's hearty response. "March has got too level a head to risk himself 'n' Fleet in such a storm--it's a regular howler of a blizzard. If he did start," he added, "he 'd go in somewheres on the road--he couldn't get far."

After tea there was no settling down to the cosey evening pastimes or employments. If such a thing could be, the storm seemed to increase in severity. The wind struck the house at times with terrific force; the intermittent drift of snow and ice against the window panes startled the inmates of the long-room like the rattle of small shot. Chi had put out the fire in the fireplace before supper, for the wind drove flame and ashes out into the room.

Again and again Mrs. Blossom went to the windows--first one then another, and pressed her face close to the pane; but they were plastered so thick with snow that her efforts to see into the night were fruitless. Chi sat by the kitchen stove, which he had filled with wood.

His boots rested on the fender, and, apparently, he was indifferent to the storm. But, in reality, not the creak of a beam, not the springing of a board, not an unwonted sound within or without the house escaped his notice.

In marked contrast to Chi's apparent apathy was Tell's restlessness.

Since six o'clock he had shown signs of uneasiness. With strides, heavy and long, the huge beast paced up and down the long-room. Sometimes he followed Mrs. Blossom to the window, and, sitting down on his haunches beside her, rested his nose on the window sill and gazed at the whitened panes. At others he took his stand beside Chi and looked into his face, their eyes meeting on a level as the man sat and the dog stood. The dog looked as if he were questioning him dumbly.

As the evening wore on the dog's pace grew more rapid, more uneven; his tail waved in a jerky, excited manner. At last he lay down by the shed door, and, placing his nose on the threshold, gave vent to a long, low, half-stifled moan. At the sound Chi brought down his heels and the tipped chair-legs with a thump, and started to his feet. Mrs. Blossom turned to him with a white face, and Rose cried out:--

"Oh, Chi! What is the matter with Tell? He never acted this way before."

"Don't know," said Chi, shortly; "dumb beasts are curious creatures.

Guess he don't like the storm. I 'll go out, Mis' Blossom, 'n' see if the stock 's all right. Kind of looks as if Tell was givin' us a warnin'."

"Oh, Chi, don't go through the tunnel now," cried Mrs. Blossom, all the pent-up anxiety finding expression in her voice.

Chi manufactured a laugh: "That's all safe, Mis' Blossom. I chained it and roped it down, both--it can't get away, 'n' the snow can't crush it.

Don't you worry about me. I 'll be back inside of fifteen minutes." He took his lantern from the shelf over the sink:--"Get up, Tell." The dog rose, but, as Chi opened the door, he tried to push past him. Chi crowded him with his leg:--"No you don't, old feller! there ain't room only for just one of us to-night. Lay down!"

And Tell lay down, with his nose on his paws, and both nose and paws pressed close to the crack on the threshold. Another long crescendo moan, that, at the last, sounded like a sharp wail, filled the long-room, and Budd and Cherry clung to their mother in terror.

"You must go to bed, children," said Mrs. Blossom, her face white as the snow on the window panes, but with a voice of forced calm. "When you 're asleep, you won't hear all this trouble the storm is raising to-night."