Nobody Part 91

"And the Bible."--

"Other people do not think the Bible is so strict."

"You know what the words are, Madge."

"I don't know what the words mean."

Lois was brushing out the thick ma.s.ses of her beautiful hair, which floated about over her in waves of golden brown; and Madge had been thinking, privately, that if anybody could have just that view of Lois, his scruples--if he had any--would certainly give way. Now, at her sister's last words, however, Lois laid down her brush, and, coming up, laid hold of Madge by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shaking. It ended in something of a romp, but Lois declared Madge should never say such a thing again.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

TWO SUNDAY SCHOOLS.

Lois was inclined now to think it might be quite as well if something hindered Mr. Dillwyn's second visit. She did not wonder at Madge's evident fascination; she had felt the same herself long ago, and in connection with other people; the charm of good breeding and gracious manners, and the habit of the world, even apart from knowledge and cultivation and the art of conversation. Yes, Mr. Dillwyn was a good specimen of this sort of attraction; and for a moment Lois's imagination recalled that day's two walks in the rain; then she shook off the impression. Two poor Shampuashuh girls were not likely to have much to do with that sort of society, and--it was best they should not.

It would be just as well if Mr. Dillwyn was hindered from coming again.

But he came. A month had pa.s.sed; it was the beginning of December when he knocked next at the door, and cold and grey and cloudy and windy as it is December's character in certain moods to be. The reception he got was hearty in proportion; fires were larger, the table even more hospitably spread; Mrs. Barclay even more cordial, and the family atmosphere not less genial. Nevertheless the visit, for Mr. Dillwyn's special ends, was hardly satisfactory. He could get no private speech with Lois. She was always "busy;" and at meal-times it was obviously impossible, and would have been impolitic, to pay any particular attention to her. Philip did not attempt it. He talked rather to every one else; made himself delightful company; but groaned in secret.

"Cannot you make some excuse for getting her in here?" he asked Mrs.

Barclay at evening.

"Not without her sister."

"With her sister, then."

"They are very busy just now preparing some thing they call 'apple b.u.t.ter.' It's unlucky, Philip. I am very sorry. I always told you your way looked to me intricate."

Fortune favoured him, however, in an unexpected way. After a day pa.s.sed in much inward impatience, for he had not got a word with Lois, and he had no excuse for prolonging his stay beyond the next day, as they sat at supper, the door opened, and in came two ladies. Mr. Dillwyn was formally presented to one of them as to "my aunt, Mrs. Marx;" the other was named as "Mrs. Seelye." The latter was a neat, brisk little body, with a capable air and a mien of business; all whose words came out as if they had been nicely picked and squared, and sorted and packed, and served in order.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Armadale" she began, in a chirruping little voice. Indeed, her whole air was that of a notable little hen looking after her chickens. Charity a.s.sured her it was no interruption.

"Mrs. Seelye and I had our tea hours ago," said Mrs. Marx. "I had m.u.f.fins for her, and we ate all we could then. We don't want no more now. We're on business."

"Yes," said Mrs. Seelye. "Mrs. Marx and I, we've got to see everybody, pretty much; and there ain't much time to do it in; so you see we can't choose, and we just come here to see what you'll do for us."

"What do you want us to do for you, Mrs. Seelye?" Lois asked.

"Well, I don't know; only all you can. We want your counsel, and then your help. Mr. Seelye he said, Go to the Lothrop girls first. I didn't come _first_, 'cause there was somebody else on my way here; but this is our fourth call, ain't it, Mrs. Marx?"

"I thought I'd never get you away from No. 3," was the answer.

"They were very much interested,--and I wanted to make them all understand--it was important that they should all understand--"

"And there are different ways of understanin'," added Mrs. Marx; "and there are a good many of 'em--the Hicks's, I mean; and so, when we thought we'd got it all right with one, we found somebody else was in a fog; and then _he_ had to be fetched out."

"But we are all in a fog," said Madge, laughing. "What are you coming to? and what are we to understand?"

"We have a little plan," said Mrs. Seelye.

"It'll be a big one, before we get through with it," added her coadjutor. "n.o.body'll be frightened here if you call it a big one to start with, Mrs. Seelye. I like to look things in the face."

"So do we," said Mrs. Armadale, with a kind of grim humour,--"if you will give us a chance."

"Well, it's about the children," said Mrs. Seelye.

"Christmas--" added Mrs. Marx.

"Be quiet, Anne," said her mother. "Go on, Mrs. Seelye. Whose children?"

"I might say, they are all Mr. Seelye's children," said the little lady, laughing; "and so they are in a way, as they are all belonging to his church. He feels he is responsible for the care of 'em, and he _don't_ want to lose 'em. And that's what it's all about, and how the plan came up."

"How's he goin' to lose 'em?" Mrs. Armadale asked, beginning now to knit again.

"Well, you see the other church is makin' great efforts; and they're goin' to have a tree."

"What sort of a tree? and what do they want a tree for?"

"Why, a fir tree!"--and, "Why, a Christmas tree!" cried the two ladies who advocated the "plan," both in a breath.

"Mother don't know about that," Mrs. Marx went on. "It's a new fashion, mother,--come up since your day. They have a green tree, planted in a tub, and hung with all sorts of things to make it look pretty; little candles especially; and at night they light it up; and the children are tickled to death with it."

"In-doors?"

"Why, of course in-doors. Couldn't be out-of-doors, in the snow."

"I didn't know," said the old lady; "I don't understand the new fashions. I should think they would burn up the house, if it's in-doors."

"O no, no danger," explained Mrs. Seelye. "They make them wonderfully pretty, with the branches all hung full with gla.s.s b.a.l.l.s, and candles, and ribbands, and gilt toys, and papers of sugar plums--cornucopia, you know; and dolls, and tops, and jacks, and trumpets, and whips, and everything you can think of,--till it is as full as it can be, and the branches hang down with the weight; and it looks like a fairy tree; and then the heavy presents lie at the foot round about and cover the tub."

"I should think the children would be delighted," said Madge.

"I don't believe it's as much fun as Santa Claus and the stocking,"

said Lois.

"No, nor I," said Mrs. Barclay.