The Four Canadian Highwaymen Part 20

Mr. Ham went away and continued his preparations to marry the glittering Miss Estabrooks.

When news reached the Hams that Roland and his beloved Aster were wedded, Lydia, who was by this time likewise a wife, said:

'I don't envy that 'ere one her bargain. _You_ would never now, would you, dear, ask anybody out to fight a dool?'

Lydia, at least, told the truth.

Aster lived very happily with Roland, and she still retains the beauty for which, in those olden days, she was so noted. Before handing this ma.n.u.script to the publishers, I went to her dear, cosy old home and read the sheets.

'Why,' she said,' you have it all down just as accurately as if you had been with us during that dreadful time. But you make me too beautiful; that is the only fault. I want you to look up my grandson; he attends college at Toronto.'

Kissing her dear hand, I said good-bye; and I beg likewise to say good-bye to my readers.

THE END.

MARY HOLT'S ENGAGEMENT

BY CATHERINE OWENS

'And I am really engaged! I can hardly believe it. How often I have thought and wondered who my husband would be, or if I ever should marry. But I suppose all girls have the same thoughts; at all events my future is now settled. I wonder if Tom will always care as much for me as he does now?'

Mary Holt sat in the bright firelight, watching the flickering flames, and thinking of her new position.

She was very young and inexperienced, and Tom Cowell's declaration of love and somewhat masterful wooing had taken her by storm. She had hardly realized that he was dear to her beyond friendship, when he asked her to be his wife, and, in spite of the suddenness of her betrothal, if the bright, dimpling smile and sunny eyes might be taken as a sign, she was a very happy little woman indeed.

Tom had not been very long in Mapleton when he met and fell in love with Mary, who, for her part, much as she liked his great broad shoulders and honest, handsome face, was long before she could believe that she, who was said to be the prettiest and most admired girl in that part of Pennsylvania, could ever love such a very different man from the one she had pictured as her conquering hero.

Her ideal had been such a very superior creature--quite unlike good-natured, handsome, but, to Mary's eyes, who judged by the Mapleton standard, somewhat common-place Tom Cowell.

He had seemed to her, too, to have an unpleasantly good opinion of his own people and his home, which was Limeton--as every one knows, much behind Mapleton in culture and refinement, although it could boast of its greater wealth; but wealth in such a sooty atmosphere lost all attraction for Mary. Yet he quoted Limeton, and, what the Limetonians did, thought, and intended to do, and the effect of their intentions on the coming election for President, which was exasperating to Mary, who, like all loyal Mapletonians, was quite sure their own city was the brain of the State, even if Limeton did represent its wealth; so that what the former said and thought was of far more importance to the country, and she would smile at the purse-proud ignorance of Limeton.

Even when she saw Tom's honest admiration for herself, and found that she enjoyed his visits and attentions, she believed it was only the magnetism of his good humour, and breezy, healthy nature that pleased her; she was sure it was nothing more.

And yet the day came, as we see, when she had been brought to know that she loved him, and to look forward to being his wife as her greatest good. But then, in his growing affection for her, and his absorbing anxiety as to its being returned, he had left off quoting 'my mother' and Limeton quite so often; and Mary flattered herself it was because he was beginning to see the superiority of Mapleton, and thus tacitly acknowledged it.

A few days after her betrothal she received a letter from Mrs.

Cowell, inviting her to go and stay with her for a few weeks, in order that they might become better acquainted.

The letter was kind and motherly, and Mary felt that it was so: but although there were no actual faults of spelling, it was evidently not the production of a cultured woman, and she thought with some dread of her future mother-in-law. It would all be very tolerable if Tom did not think so over much of his own kin, but he evidently looked on his women-folk as the most superior of their kind.

However, she had to meet them sooner or later, and as Tom was so anxious, it was best to go.

Tom was delighted when she told him she would accept his mother's invitation. His face glowed with satisfaction as he expressed his thanks.

'You will like my dear mother so much, Mary, and Louise will be a delightful companion for you, darling. She is such a sweet, sensible girl, and a prodigious housekeeper. You will learn a great deal from her.'

'I have no doubt I shall like your mother,' says Mary, not very enthusiastically, it must be confessed.

Tom's face falls.

'And Limeton, Mary; it's such a splendid city--quite different from this place.'

Mary fancies she detects a slight deprecatory tone in the way he says 'this place.'

'Yes, I suppose it is very different. Horridly dirty, isn't it?

'Not more dirty than a prosperous manufacturing city must inevitably be, and within a mile all round there is the loveliest scenery you can imagine. Our place is about a mile from the city, so the dirt will not annoy you; and you will meet such pleasant people there that you will not mind the smoke. I am sure, Mary, you will come away quite in love with Limeton, and prefer it to this prim old place.'

'Prefer it to Mapleton? Never.'

'Well, well, we'll see;' and in his proud confidence he kissed her and left her.

Mary felt indignant.

'I'm sure we shall never get along if Tom remains so wrapped up in his mother, and sister, and Limeton. A great deal to learn from Louise, indeed!'

Mary could not get it through her little Mapleton head hut that she was about to honour Limeton infinitely by going there, and that her Mapleton manners and dress would be envied and copied by its unsophisticated people and now to be told that she was to learn from Louise!

Of course, she had a little cry, and made several foolish resolutions, and then set about her preparations for an early departure with a heavy heart.

A week later Mary was whirling along to Limeton, wondering what Tom's relations would be like, and whether they were like him-- unpolished diamonds. Could he think so much of them if they were not very nice? And although the people she knew from Limeton except Tom, had been suggestive of smoke and petroleum to her, they surely would be exceptions.

Mary's heart sank within her as the train neared the depot; such miserable shanties formed the outskirts, such gloom hung in the air, that she shuddered at the thought of having to stay even a week in such a place. Her spirits did not revive when she saw Mrs. Cowell and Louise, who were waiting to receive her, and welcomed her with much cordiality.

As they rode home in the dusty 'carry-all,' Mrs. Cowell was evidently studying Mary's elegant and expensive travelling-dress, from her Russia leather satchel to her dainty boots and gloves, while Mary had taken in at a glance the terribly dowdy appearance of Louise and her mother--the old lady's black alpaca suit, made evidently at home and Louise's Scotch plaid dress, and dyed, and too scant silk overekirt; and yet, with such toilets, it was a relief to her to find they were not coa.r.s.e.

As they pa.s.sed through the town Mrs. Cowell and Louise pointed out some of the attractions, which they considered must astonish their visitor, and were evidently disappointed at the equanimity with which she regarded them. Mary, however, could be very sweet; and, although an idea was forming in her mind that Mrs. and Miss Cowell could never become relatives of hers, she exerted herself to charm them, and succeeded. The old lady thought she was a giddy young thing, quite unused to travelling, or she would never wear a dress beautiful enough for gala day attire on the cars, but that when she became toned down by Louise's example all would come right; but at the same time she determined herself to give her a few hints on extravagance, especially on the folly of wearing an Irish poplin dress to travel in.

The Cowells lived in a large, comfortable house, with fine old trees around it, and Mary began to hope, when she saw the wealth of sylvan beauty, that her visit might not be so unbearable as she had feared.

The interior was not so promising; it was Mrs. Cowell and Louise over again--plain, sensible, thrifty, but perfectly unendurable to luxurious Mary, who was accustomed to elegance and loved it.

She sighed as she sat on the hard, hair-cloth easy-chair, and trying the harder sofa, found it utterly impossible to adapt her round little figure to its angles.

No wonder Louise was so prim if she had been brought up amid such furniture! And then her thoughts turned to Tom. He was not prim. But even in that short time she had come to the conclusion that he was not like the rest of his family. Then why, oh! why, did he quote them so often? Could it be possible that he would expect her to live in a similar fashion? Perhaps that was why he had told her she could learn housekeeping from Louise.

Whatever Tom's idea on the subject may have been, it was evident that his mother meant to make her visit an apprenticeship to the future life she expected her son to lead.

Conversation had not been very brisk hitherto, and when tea was announced, Mary, determined to make talk, praised the biscuit, the cake, and the delicious b.u.t.ter.

'Yes, my dear, Louise's b.u.t.ter is excellent, although I say it. I suppose you know how to make b.u.t.ter? But I could take a hint myself from Louise, and it will do you no harm to learn some of her housekeeping wrinkles. Tom has always been accustomed to fine b.u.t.ter, and I hear in Mapleton they churn up the milk with the cream.'

'I am sure I know nothing about it,' said Mary, forgetting her resolve to be amiable.

However, Mrs. Cowell seemed almost pleased to know that Louise's instructions would be given where they were most needed.