Hilda's Mascot Part 25

Paul had taken upon himself the charge of the farm, thus relieving his mother of all care, and Ben Duvall, his efficient foreman and all-around helper, was living happily with his wife and children in their little home in the village, walking out to the Warfield farm in the morning and back in the evening, satisfied with the world and all it contained.

One morning a few weeks after Hilda's engagement to Fred, she set out for a walk to the village, having several little commissions on hand, among them to call upon Mrs. Duvall with a message from Mrs. Warfield.

Her heart was buoyant with the thought of the festivities that were to follow Paul's wedding, now near at hand, and her frequent meetings with the young people of the neighborhood in consequence. Her gown was being made by the village dressmaker and her first call was there, and all being satisfactory, she pa.s.sed on to the neat home of Mrs. Duvall.

"Something told me that you would be here to-day, Miss Hilda," said Susie cordially, as she opened the door; "the chickens keep crowing and a little black spider came down from the ceiling, which is a sure sign of a visitor, and I said to myself, 'That is Miss Hilda.'"

"I am very glad you thought of me, Mrs. Duvall," smiled Hilda, amused at the superst.i.tion, as she took the proffered seat. "Here is a package of cake Aunt Sarah sent to the children, and she told me to ask if it would be convenient for you to come three days of next week to help Angie. You know that Cousin Paul is to be married on Tuesday, and on Thursday evening we are to have a reception, and hope you can come on Tuesday morning."

"Nothing but sickness will prevent me, Miss Hilda," said Susie, warmly; "Mrs. Warfield has always been a kind friend to me and I love the two boys as if they were my own. You know I lived with Mrs. Warfield for years, and the farmhouse was a real home to me, and she was always good and kind to me."

"Yes, and aunt said she could always count upon you, and is quite sure you will come and help."

"I wish she could always count so surely upon that wife Paul is getting.

I am fearful of it, Miss Hilda. Lura De Cormis has a temper, and what is more, she doesn't try to curb it."

"She is an only child," remarked Hilda, "and her mother died while she was very young and I suppose her father indulged her too much."

"Well, I reckon he thought he ought to put up with her bad temper, knowing that she got it from him. People that know him say that his high temper has been a terrible trial and cross to him, and he has grieved so much over it and over his unforgiving nature that he has bettered himself in both ways, as a minister ought to, if he expects to be an example for the people who hear him preach."

"I do hope for Aunt Sarah's sake that Lura will try to improve her temper; they are, as you know, to live together."

"Yes, and Miss Lura will be boss. Mrs. Warfield will have to give the right of way to her, if I know anything about Miss Lura De Cormis. It makes me sorry to think of it, for a sweeter, n.o.bler Christian woman does not live than Mrs. Warfield, and everybody that knows her loves her.

"People in Springfield who knew her and her sister Janette when they were young said they were rich orphan girls, and that they and their brother Herbert lost nearly all through the failure of people who had their money in trust, but that did not spoil their sweet dispositions.

Just think how Mrs. Warfield struggled along and kept that farm for the boys, and with it her generous nature that oppresses n.o.body but helps everybody along! I do wish that Miss Lura had her sweet, kind disposition," she concluded.

"Have you had any evidence of her temper, Mrs. Duvall?"

"Indeed I have! The last Sabbath school celebration we had, she had charge of one of the dinner tables, and my Johnny broke a tea cup. She was so angry at his carelessness, as she called it, that she shook him, and her black eyes fairly blazed. She made him pick up every sc.r.a.p on a newspaper. She said that if I would make him behave himself at home, he would do so when out in company."

Hilda had heard the subject of Miss Lura's temper discussed, but not so freely as by Susie, and knew that what she said was entirely correct. In her own mind she believed that no one could resemble Jerusha Flint so closely without partaking of her nature. "I do hope that Cousin Paul has made a good choice," she said sadly.

"I hope that both boys will make good choices. Folks say that Fred has a notion of getting married, too."

"Do they?" asked Hilda, her face flushing.

"Yes, to a girl in Springfield," continued Mrs. Duvall, not noticing her visitor's embarra.s.sment. "She is a great friend of Miss Lura's and of course will be at the wedding and you will have a chance to see her."

"I never heard that Cousin Fred was waiting upon anyone in Springfield,"

said Hilda faintly.

"No, I reckon not. Fred Warfield waits upon so many girls it is hard to keep track of him. It was about a month ago that I heard it, so most likely he has dropped the Springfield girl and is in love with another.

He always had a sweetheart, sometimes one, and sometimes another, ever since I first knew him."

Hilda breathed more freely. It had been a fort-night since Fred had engaged himself to her, and Mrs. Duvall evidently knew nothing of his attachment. Fred had told her of the girl in Springfield that last time he was at home, and in his happy-go-lucky manner had made merry over the flirtation between them, at which Mrs. Warfield had reproved him while she vainly tried to conceal her amus.e.m.e.nt at his travesty of the affair.

"That Fred Warfield was always the best-natured fellow that ever lived,"

resumed Mrs. Duvall. "Paul would get mad sometimes, but Fred you couldn't make mad no matter what happened. He just made merry over everything and was the kindest, tenderest-hearted boy that ever lived, and wouldn't hurt the feelings of a fly."

"I must go now, Mrs. Duvall," said Hilda, rising. "Aunt Sarah will be glad to know that you can come. I have to call at Uncle Herbert's store for spices and other things, and will ask him to send them here for Mr.

Duvall to bring out in the morning if convenient for him to do so."

"Certainly, Miss Hilda! Nothing pleases him better than to oblige Mrs.

Warfield or any of the family. I will be sure to come early, and please tell Mrs. Warfield that I can stay as long as she needs me."

"She will be glad to know that, and Aunt Sarah requests you not to walk to the farmhouse, for I am to drive to the dressmaker's in the village on Tuesday morning for my gown and will take you home with me."

"What kind of a gown are you having made, Miss Hilda, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"A white silk, and the bride's is white satin. It was made in Philadelphia and is very elegant."

"They can well afford to have fine clothes for Miss Lura," commented Mrs. Duvall. "People who know them in Springfield say that Mr. De Cormis got a fortune from France, where his grandfather came from. He needn't preach if he don't want to, but he likes to live in the country, and wants only a small church, so has here what suits him."

"It would interest you to go to the church on Tuesday evening and see them married, Mrs. Duvall?"

"It certainly would, and I'll go. A cat can look at a queen, I reckon, whether the queen looks at her or not."

Hilda laughed, and then nodding good-morning to Mrs. Duvall, drove to the store, made her purchases and went home.

Tuesday evening came, the church was filled to overflowing, and Rev.

Horace De Cormis gave his daughter to the one above all others whom he would have selected had he done the choosing.

Beautiful as was Hilda at all times, she never looked more lovely than upon that occasion, and Mrs. Duvall was not the only one whose gaze wandered to the handsome attendants, who expected to be only secondary objects of interest.

The evening reception at the parsonage was followed by that given by Mrs. Warfield, and this in turn by friends of the bride among her father's congregation. The quiet neighborhood had never known such a festive time.

Fred was always mentioned as Hilda's escort to these festivities and was an attentive and courtly cavalier. Hilda's confidence in him became firmly established and confidence became esteem, which she mistook for love.

Mrs. Lura Warfield remained several weeks at the parsonage, then became one of the home circle of the Warfield farmhouse. Yet her taking up her abode in a new home did not prevent her from keeping her place as head of her father's household. She attended to his wardrobe, visited the poor and ailing of his congregation, purchased the supplies, answered his letters, and in every way in her power kept him from realizing the loss he had sustained in her marriage and her removal to another home.

Mrs. Lura was a good, dutiful daughter, and there was scarcely a day pa.s.sed that she was not engaged upon some work for him, and Hilda was glad that there was something to interest her outside the farmhouse.

Sometimes by invitation she accompanied her, driving Planchette to Mrs.

Lura's phaeton, and could not help admiring the executive ability of the brilliant little woman.

Although she had seen but little exhibition of a Jerusha Flint temper, Hilda never gave up the conviction that it was there, only waiting occasion to be called forth. Many traits which she remembered as being possessed by the adversary of her childhood were noticeable in this fair and refined-looking prototype.

Mrs. Paul Warfield resembled Jerusha Flint in her untiring industry and her methodical habits, her uncompromising neatness, her ability, her satirical opinion of anything that failed to agree with her ideas and her extreme selfishness. She had a much better education than had Jerusha and her environment had been of the best, but the texture of her mind was no finer; she was cold, calculating and heartless. In short, Mrs. Lura was so much like the one with whom part of her childhood had pa.s.sed that, try as she might, Hilda could not persuade herself to love her.

Happy as was the young girl in her Ohio home, and tenderly kind as were Mrs. Warfield and her sons to her, she did not forget her Dorton friends. She looked eagerly for letters from them, and the most trifling incidents which interested her Maryland acquaintances were full of interest to her, and knowing this, Mrs. Merryman let nothing which came to her notice pa.s.s unmentioned.

Hilda was informed of Erma attending school in Baltimore, staying five days out of the week with her grandparents there, of Norah's faithfulness, and Perry's improvement in all branches of farm work, of everything in fact that would keep up Hilda's interest and affection for those who loved her and held her in remembrance.

It was the rule from the beginning that after the Merryman household had read Hilda's letters, they were pa.s.sed on to "Friedenheim," for the Courtneys had always evinced much interest in her, and she had made no restrictions in regard to her letters.

When Mrs. Courtney had read them aloud to her family they were sent the same evening by Mose to "My Lady's Manor," and in this way Mr. Valentine Courtney was kept in touch with Hilda's everyday life.

When she left Dorton "My Lady's Manor" lost its charm for him. He missed the gentle girl more than he had ever before missed a human being, and felt that life was scarcely worth living when she was not there to brighten it.