Janet's Love and Service Part 6

"Nae muckle, I doubt, Janet," said Harry, with an exaggerated gesture of humility and penitence, turning the basket upside down, to ascertain the extent of the mischief. "It's awfu' like Scotch dubs, now isn't it?

Never mind, I'll give it a wash at the next pump, and it 'ill he none the worse. Give me Will's hand, and I'll take care of him."

"Take care o' yourself, and leave Will with me. But, dear me, where's Mr Allan?" For their escort had disappeared, and she stood alone, with the baskets and the boys in the rainy street. Before her consternation had reached a climax, however, Ruthven reappeared, having safely bestowed the others in their lodgings. Like a discreet lad, as Janet was inclined to consider him, he possessed himself of Will, and some of the bundles, and led the way. At the door stood the girls, anxiously looking out for them.

If their hostess had, at first, some doubt as to the sanity of her new lodgers, there was little wonder. Such a confusion of tongues her American ears had not heard before. Graeme condoled with Will, who was both wet and weary. Janet searched for missing bundles, and bewailed things in general. Marian was engaged in a friendly scuffle for an apple, and Allan was tossing Rosie up to the ceiling, while Norman, perched on the bannisters high above them all, waved his left hand, bidding farewell, with many words, to an imaginary Scotland, while with his right he beckoned to the "brave new world" which was to be the scene of his wonderful achievements and triumphs.

The next day rose bright and beautiful. Mr Elliott had gone to stay with his friend Mr Caldwell, and Janet was over head and ears in a general "sorting" of things, and made no objections when it was proposed that the boys and Graeme should go out with Allan Ruthven to see the town. It is doubtful whether there was ever so much of Boston seen in one day before, without the aid of a carriage and pair. It was a day never to be forgotten by the children. The enjoyment was not quite unmixed to Graeme, for she was in constant fear of losing some of them.

Harry was lost sight of for a while, but turned up again with a chapter of adventures at his finger ends for their amus.e.m.e.nt.

The crowning enjoyment of the day was the treat given by Allan Ruthven on their way home. They were very warm and tired, and hungry too, and the low, cool room down some steps into which they were taken, was delightful. There was never such fruit--there were never such cakes as these that were set before them. As for the ice cream, it was-- inexpressible. In describing the feast afterwards, Marian could never get beyond the ice cream. She was always at a loss for adjectives to describe it. It was like the manna that the Children of Israel had in the wilderness, she thought, and surely they ought to have been content with it.

Graeme was the only one who did not enjoy it thoroughly. She had an idea that there were not very many guineas left in Allan's purse, and she felt bound to remonstrate with him because of his extravagance.

"Never mind, Graeme, dear," said Norman; "Allan winna have a chance to treat us to manna this while again; and when I am Mayor of Boston, I'll give him manna and quails too."

They came home tired, but they had a merry evening. Even Graeme "unbent," as Harry said, and joined in the mirth; and Janet had enough to do to reason them into quietness when bed-time came.

"One would think when Mr Allan is going away in the morning, you might have the grace to seem sorry, and let us have a while's peace," said she.

If the night was merry, the morning farewells were sad indeed, and long, long did they wait in vain for tidings of Allan Ruthven.

CHAPTER SIX.

"But where's the town?"

The bairns were standing on the highest step of the meeting-house, gazing with eyes full of wonder and delight on the scene before them.

The meeting-house stood on a high hill, and beyond a wide sloping field at the foot of the hill, lay Merleville pond, like a mirror in a frame of silver and gold. Beyond, and on either side, were hills rising behind hills, the most distant covered with great forest trees, "the trees under which the red Indians used to wander," Graeme whispered.

There were trees on the nearer hills too, sugaries, and thick pine groves, and a circle of them round the margin of the pond. Over all the great Magician of the season had waved his wand, and decked them in colours dazzling to the eyes accustomed to the grey rocks and purple heather, and to the russet garb of autumn in their native land.

There were farm-houses too, and the scattered houses along the village street looking white and fair beneath crimson maples and yellow beech-trees. Above hung a sky undimmed by a single cloud, and the air was keen, yet mild with the October sunshine. They could not have had a lovelier time for the first glimpse of their new home, yet there was an echo of disappointment in Harry's voice as he asked,--

"Where's the town?"

They had been greatly impressed by the description given them of Merleville by Mr Sampson Snow, in whose great wagon they had been conveyed over the twenty miles of country roads that lay between the railway and their new home.

"I was the first white child born in the town," said Sampson. "I know every foot of it as well as I do my own barn, and I don't want no better place to live in than Merleville. It don't lack but a fraction of being ten miles square. Right in the centre, perhaps a _leetle_ south, there's about the prettiest pond you ever saw. There are some first-rate farms there, mine is one of them, but in general the town is better calculated for pasturage than tillage. I shouldn't wonder but it would be quite a manufacturing place too after a spell, when they've used up all the other water privileges in the State. There's quite a fall in the Merle river, just before it runs into the pond. We've got a fullin'-mill and a grist-mill on it now. They'd think everything of it in your country."

"There's just one meetin'-house in it. That's where your pa'll preach if our folks conclude to hire him a spell. The land's about all taken up, though it hain't reached the highest point of cultivation yet. The town is set off into nine school-districts, and I consider that our privileges are first-rate. And if it's nutting and squirrel-hunting you're after, boys, all you have to do is to apply to Uncle Sampson, and he'll arrange your business for you."

"Ten miles square and nine school-districts!" Boston could be nothing to it, surely, the boys thought. The inconsistency of talking about pasturage and tillage, nutting and squirrel-hunting in the populous place which they imagined Merleville to be, did not strike them. This was literally their first glimpse of Merleville, for the rain had kept them within doors, and the mist had hidden all things the day before and now they looked a little anxiously for the city they had pictured to themselves.

"But Norman! Harry! I think this is far better than a town," said Marian, eagerly. "Eh, Graeme, isna yon a bonny water?"

"Ay, it's grand," said Graeme. "Norman, this is far better than a town."

The people were beginning to gather to service by this time; but the children were too eager and too busy to heed them for a while. With an interest that was half wonder, half delight, Graeme gazed to the hills and the water and the lovely sky. It might be the "bonny day"--the mild air and the sunshine, and the new fair scene before her, or it might be the knowledge that after much care, and many perils, they were all safe together in this quiet place where they were to find a home; she scarce knew what it was, but her heart felt strangely light, and lips and eyes smiled as she stood there holding one of Marian's hands in hers, while the other wandered through the curls of Will's golden hair. She did not speak for a long time; but the others were not so quiet, but whispered to each other, and pointed out the objects that pleased them most.

"Yon's Merle river, I suppose, where we see the water glancing through the trees."

"And yonder is the kirkyard," said Marian, gravely. "It's no' a bonny place."

"It's bare and lonely looking," said Harry.

"They should have yew trees and ivy and a high wall, like where mamma is," said Marian.

"But this is a new country; things are different here," said Norman.

"But surely they might have trees."

"And look, there are cows in it. The gate is broken. It's a pity."

"Look at yon road that goes round the water, and then up between the hills through the wood. That's bonny, I'm sure."

"And there's a white house, just where the road goes out of sight. I would like to live there."

"Yes, there are many trees about it, and another house on this side."

And so they talked on, till a familiar voice accosted them. Their friend Mr Snow was standing beside them, holding a pretty, but delicate little girl, by the hand. He had been watching them for some time.

"Well how do you like the looks of things?"

"It's bonny here," said Marian.

"Where's the town?" asked Harry, promptly.

Mr Snow made a motion with his head, intended to indicate the scene before them.

"Lacks a fraction of being ten miles square."

"It's all trees," said little Will.

"Wooden country, eh, my little man?"

"Country! yes, it's more like the country than like a town," said Harry.

"Well, yes. On this side of the water, we can afford to have our towns, as big as some folks' countries," said Mr Snow, gravely.

"But it's like no town I ever saw," said Norman. "There are no streets, no shops, no market, no anything that makes a town."

"There's freedom on them hills," said Mr Snow, waving his hand with an air.

During the journey the other day, Mr Snow and the lads had discussed many things together; among the rest, the inst.i.tutions of their respective countries, and Mr Snow had, as he expressed it, "Set their British blood to bilin'," by hints about "aristocracy", "despotism," and so on. "He never had had such a good time," he said, afterwards. They were a little fiery, but first-rate smart boys, and as good natured as kittens, and he meant to see to them. He meant to amuse himself with them too, it seemed. The boys fired up at once, and a hot answer was only arrested on their lips, by the timely interference of Graeme.

"Whist, Norman. Harry, mind it is the Sabbath-day, and look yonder is papa coming up with Judge Merle," and turning smilingly to Mr Snow, she added, "We like the place very much. It's beautiful everywhere. It's far bonnier than a town. I'm glad there's no town, and so are the boys, though they were disappointed at first."

"No town?" repeated Mr Snow.