Hildegarde's Harvest Part 6

Hildegarde handed her the box; and she was soon crunching and nodding and smiling, all at the same moment.

"De-licious! I a.s.sure you, delicious! something entirely new--Novices!

Why, they are exactly what I want for my party to-night. Much better than Nuns,--Nuns have really become quite tiresome. What is the price of the Novices?"

Hildegarde hesitated, and glanced at the saleswoman. The latter leaned swiftly forward, looked, tasted a crumb,--

"Five cents apiece!" she said, quietly. Five! Hildegarde had thought of three, and had built all her castles on that basis.

But the stout lady was crying to heaven against the price. "Impossible!

absurd! Why, Nuns were only two cents apiece, Marguerites only three!

The price was ridiculous, exorbitant. She could not think of paying--"

Here a small lady, richly but quietly dressed, came up, and looked at the box. "Pretty!" she said. "Graceful and ingenious! Five cents apiece, you say? Give me a dozen and a half, please! I should like to have them sent to me once a week for the season; they are just the things to please my daughter's lunch-club."

She nodded kindly to Hildegarde, and pa.s.sed on. The stout lady gazed after her reverentially.

"Mrs. Cameron Pine!" she murmured. "She will make them the fashion instantly. I--I will take the rest!" she cried, wildly. "Put them up, and send them to me,--Mrs. Newcomb Rich, Madison Avenue. Send me two dozen every week,--wait! send them the _day before_ you send Mrs.

Pine's, do you hear? the day before! Don't forget! It is most important!" and puffing and nodding, she, too, went on.

There was a little lull now, during which the saleswoman turned to thank Hildegarde so heartily that our heroine would have felt well repaid even if she had not sold all her cakes.

"I cannot imagine where Miss Berden is; she is always so punctual. This is our busiest day, and one of our busiest hours, and some of the ladies, as you saw, rather hard to please. I really don't know what I should have done if you had not helped me; it was very kind and thoughtful of you." She gazed earnestly at Hildegarde, and added, "You have a good mother, I know, who has taught you to think and help."

Hildegarde nodded and smiled, but said nothing, for the tears came springing to her eyes.

"And you sold all the pretty cakes!" added the saleswoman. "I knew they would make a hit the moment I saw them. That was partly why I put a good price on them; but it was also because I knew there must be a good deal of nice and careful work in making them. I wonder--you have been so good, I am ashamed to ask you anything more, but there is no one here now; would you be willing to hold the fort while I run to the corner and post a letter?"

Hildegarde a.s.sented cheerfully, and Miss Adams (for by this name she now introduced herself) put on her hat and went out. Hildegarde remained mistress of the situation, and occupied herself in tidying up the marble counter, brushing away the crumbs, and rearranging some biscuits that had fallen from their dainty pyramid.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'HILDEGARDE GRAHAME, IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT'S WONDERFUL!'"]

Now voices were heard at the door, and a gay group entered. A splendid carriage stood without, and these rustling, high-plumed ladies had evidently just dismounted from it. There were four of them, and they were joined in another moment by two or three more. Apparently, all had been at some concert, for they were talking all at once, and Hildegarde heard the words, "Exquisite!" "Technique!" "Andante!" etc., repeated over and over. She became interested, and forgot for the moment her position, when something curious recalled it to her. She recognised, in one of the younger ladies, her cousin Blanche Van Dene, one of Mrs.

Delansing's granddaughters; and almost at the same instant, she became aware that Blanche had recognised her, and that she was anxious to avoid any open recognition. Her eyes had met Hildegarde's for one second; the next, she had turned her back squarely, and was chattering volubly in the ear of her neighbour.

A wave of anger surged over Hildegarde, leaving the very tips of her ears pink as it receded; but the wave of amus.e.m.e.nt followed it quickly, and the second wave bore a little spray of malice. Should she call to her, and say, "Dearest Blanche, how is your dear mother?" Or she might put on a tw.a.n.g--Hildegarde had an excellent tw.a.n.g at her disposal, and say, "h.e.l.lo, Blanchey! Haow's yer haalth, and haow's the folks to home?"

Oh! it would be fun! And surely the girl deserved it! Such bad form, to say nothing of bad feeling! But here Hildegarde seemed to hear a certain familiar voice saying, "My dear, a debt of rudeness is one that should never be paid!" So she held her tongue, and contented herself with looking hard at Blanche's back, which showed consciousness and discomfort in every line.

So intent was Hildegarde on her cousin's back, that she did not notice that one of the other ladies had turned round, and was gazing at her in perplexity; next moment a shout rang out, in a clear, joyous voice that made every one start.

"Hilda Grahame, in the name of all that is wonderful! My dear, what sky have you dropped from?"

Hildegarde started, and saw a splendid vision advancing towards her with outstretched hand. A girl somewhat older than herself, with the walk and figure of a G.o.ddess and the dress of a queen; a face of almost faultless beauty, and large clear eyes through which looked a soul like a child's; she was one of the famous beauties of the day, famous alike for her loveliness, her great fortune, and the pride of her ancient name.

"My dear," she repeated, taking both Hildegarde's hands in hers, "what sky have you dropped from, and what are you doing here?"

"Dear Imperia!" said Hildegarde, calling her by the old familiar school name that came naturally to her lips. "How delightful to see you! I am selling cakes; will you have some? There were some that I made myself, but they are all sold. Here are various others, doubtless inferior, but still good."

"Of course I will have some!" cried Imperia. "Why, this is perfectly delightful! Do you really come here? regularly, I mean, and have all the cakes you want? I never heard of such fun. Give me three dozen of everything, and we'll have a carouse. Here, girls!" she turned and called to the others, who were looking curiously at the two; "come here, and tell me who this is! Shade of Madame Haut-ton, hover over us, and bless this reunion!"

"Hildegarde Grahame! Hilda! Queen Hildegarde!" cried several voices; and Hildegarde was instantly surrounded by the crowd of b.u.t.terflies, all caressing and questioning, laughing and talking at once. One or two looked puzzled, other one or two sad, as they saw their gay schoolmate of former days standing behind the counter, quiet and self-possessed, and apparently entirely at home. But visible distress was on one countenance, and Hildegarde, charitable, refrained from looking at her cousin, when Imperia exclaimed, "Why, here is Blanche Van Dene! She is your cousin, isn't she? Blanche, here is Hilda, who used to be so good to you at school, and help you with your spelling. Dear me, Hilda, _do_ you remember how Blanchey used to spell?"

Hildegarde shook hands with her cousin composedly, and only her dancing eyes showed any consciousness of the situation. Blanche muttered some greeting, and then recollected an engagement and hurried off. The lady Imperia looked after her with good-natured contempt.

"Same little animal, my dear! I beg your pardon, Hilda, but really, you know, we remember her in her pinafores, and she was a sn.o.b then. But now tell us all about it, like a good girl! You are not in trouble, dear old thing?"

At this moment the door opened and Miss Adams came hurrying in, breathless and apologetic. There had been a block in the street--she was on the wrong side and could not get back--would Hildegarde _please_ excuse her for being so long?

"Oh, but I have had a delightful time, Miss Adams!" cried Hildegarde.

"And I have sold three dozen of everything--was that a real offer, Imperia?"

Imperia vowed that it was; and Hildegarde and Miss Adams together tied up the parcels, while all chatted together like old friends. The situation was explained, and so many dozens of "Novices" were ordered for every week that Hildegarde declared her intention of taking back with her to Braeside a _chef_ and three kitchen-maids to help her in the manufacture. Finally, she was whirled away in her friend's purple chariot for a drive in the park, and had the pleasure of pa.s.sing her cousin Blanche on the way, looking sad and sorry.

CHAPTER VI.

MORE GREETINGS.

"AND you won't think better of it? Hilda, I am in despair! Think of it, my dear! Calve, and both the De Reszkes--there will never be such a performance again, perhaps, in our lifetimes! And all the good time we should have between the acts--and our box will be simply _full_ of people all the evening--oh, you must come, Hilda Grahame!"

People said of Helena Desmond that if she had a fault, it was that of speaking too loud. She was so full of the joy of living, so powerful and vigorous in all her emotions, pleasurable or painful, that her clear, resonant voice was apt to be heard like the sound of a trumpet, dominating other and feebler organs. Mrs. Delansing, sitting erect behind her tea equipage, heard it, and shivered slightly; but Hildegarde's reply was spoken so low that she could not catch a syllable. Then came: "No, no, I shouldn't! Don't tell me! I should do nothing of the sort! We are to take our opportunities as they come,--time enough for sacrifices when Lent comes. You know I don't mean that, Hilda; and you know you are a dear, dear,--" here followed the sound of good hearty kisses, and Mrs. Delansing shivered again; then the door closed with a solid slam, and all was silent.

Hildegarde came into the room, her hands full of roses.

"Aunt Emily," she said, "Helena Desmond sent you these! She would have come in, but she was late already for a reception. Aren't they lovely?"

Mrs. Delansing bent her head over the flowers; they were among the few things she enjoyed.

"Beautiful!" she said. "It was very kindly done of Miss Desmond. I should have been glad to see her. Was--was that she at the door, speaking so loud?"

"Yes," said Hildegarde. "She was speaking rather loud, perhaps; but her voice is so musical, I don't think one minds it in her, somehow. She is a glorious creature!"

Mrs. Delansing seemed absent and disturbed. "She--it is not always possible to avoid overhearing portions of conversations, when carried on in a high key--I gathered that some invitation had been extended to you, Hildegarde--for this evening."

"Yes!" said Hildegarde, rather reluctantly. "She wanted me to go to the opera with her, but I didn't think I would better."

"Why not?" demanded her aunt, severely. "Miss Desmond is not accustomed to have her invitations refused,--and you are bound to take advantage of such opportunities as may present themselves to you, living in the extraordinary way that your mother thinks suitable for you."

"Oh, well!" said Hildegarde, "Helena understood perfectly, and I thought it best not to go."

She was arranging the flowers as she spoke, and did not see the curious change that seemed to come over Mrs. Delansing's face. It was as if the stony repose of her features were broken,--some shifting light seemed to pa.s.s over her, changing into shadow, but a shadow softened into something approaching tenderness.

"Hildegarde, it is not on my account that you are making this sacrifice?

I cannot permit--"

Hildegarde looked up; then laid down her roses, and crossed the room to lay her hand on her aunt's shoulder.