The Lamplighter Part 29

"Because you are determined not to, Belle. Everybody else thinks her charming, and Mr. Bruce is opening the gate for her as politely as if she were a queen. I like him for that."

"Do see," said Belle; "she's got on that white cape-bonnet of hers! and that checked gingham dress! I wonder what Mr. Bruce thinks of her, and he such a critic in regard to ladies' dress."

Gertrude and her companion now drew near to the house. The former looked up, saw the young ladies in the doorway, and smiled pleasantly at Kitty, who was making strange grimaces and giving insignificant glances over Belle's shoulder; but Mr. Bruce did not observe either of them; and they heard him say, as he handed Gertrude a small parcel he had been carrying for her, "I believe I won't come in; it's such a bore to have to talk to strangers. Do you work in the garden, mornings, this summer?"

"No," replied Gertrude, "there is nothing left of my garden but the memory of it."

"Why, Miss Gertrude!" said the young man, "I hope these new-comers haven't interfered with----" Here, observing the direction of Gertrude's eyes, he raised his own, saw Belle and Kitty standing opposite to him; and compelled now to speak with them, went forward to shake hands, trusting to his remarks about strangers in general, and these new-comers in particular, not having been overheard. Although overheard, the young ladies chose to take no notice of that which they supposed intended for unknown individuals.

They were mistaken, however, for Mr. Bruce knew, perfectly well that the nieces of the present Mrs. Graham were the same girls whom he met at the south, and was indifferent about renewing his acquaintance. But his vanity was not proof against the evident pleasure they both manifested at seeing him again; and he soon engaged in an animated conversation with them, while Gertrude entered the house. She sought Emily's room, and was giving an account of her morning's expedition to the village, and how she had accomplished various commissions and errands, when Mrs.

Ellis came, and said, with distressed voice, "Hasn't Gertrude?--Oh, there you are! Do tell me what Mrs. Wilkins said about the strawberries?"

"I engaged three quarts; hasn't she sent them?"

"No, but I'm thankful to hear they're coming; I have been so plagued about the dinner."

She now came in, and seating herself, exclaimed, "I declare, Emily, such an ironing as our girls have got to do to-day! You never saw anything like it! There's no end to the fine clothes Mrs. Graham and her nieces put into our wash. It's a shame! Rich as they are, they might put out their washing. I've been helping, _myself_, as much as I could; but, as Mrs. Prime says, one can't do everything at once; and I've had to see the butcher, make puddings and blancmange, and been worried to death all the time, because I forgot to engage those strawberries. So Mrs. Wilkins hadn't sent her fruit to market when you got there?"

"No, but she was in a great hurry getting ready; it would have been gone in a very short time."

"Well, that was lucky. I don't know what I should have done without, for I've no time to hunt up anything else for dessert. I've got just as much as I can do till dinner-time. Mrs. Graham never kept house before, and don't know how to make allowance for anything. She comes home from Boston, expects to find everything in apple-pie order, and never asks or cares who does the work."

Mrs. Prime called out, "Mrs. Ellis, the boy has brought your strawberries, and the stalks an't off; he said they hadn't no time."

"That's too bad," exclaimed the tired housekeeper. "Who's going to take the stalks off, I should like to know? Kate is busy, and I can't do it."

"I will, Mrs. Ellis; let _me_ do it," said Gertrude, following Mrs.

Ellis, who was now half-way downstairs.

"No, no! don't you, Miss Gertrude," said Mrs. Prime; "they'll only stain your fingers all up."

"No matter if they do; my hands are not made of white kid. They'll bear washing."

Mrs. Ellis was only too thankful for Gertrude's help. Belle and Kitty were doing their best to entertain Mr. Bruce, who, sitting on the door-steps, from time to time cast his eyes down the entry, and up the staircase, in hopes of Gertrude's reappearance; and despairing of it, he was about to depart, when his sister f.a.n.n.y came running up the yard, and rushed past the a.s.sembled trio for the house.

Her brother, however, stretched out his arm, caught her, and before he let her go whispered something in her ear.

"Who is that wild Indian?" asked Kitty Ray, as f.a.n.n.y ran across the entry and disappeared.

"A sister of mine," answered Ben, in a nonchalant manner.

"Why! is she?" inquired Kitty, with interest; "I have seen her here several times, and never took any notice of her. I didn't know she was _your_ sister. What a pretty girl she is."

"Do you think so?" said Ben; "sorry I can't agree with you. I think she's a fright."

f.a.n.n.y now reappeared, and stopping a moment on her way upstairs called out, without any ceremony, "She says she can't come, she's busy."

"Who?" asked Kitty, in her turn catching f.a.n.n.y and detaining her.

"Miss Flint."

Mr. Bruce coloured slightly, and Belle Clinton observed it.

"What is she doing?" inquired Kitty.

"Picking strawberries."

"Where are you going, f.a.n.n.y?"

"Upstairs."

"Do they let you go all over the house?"

"Miss Flint said I might go up and bring down the birds."

"What birds?"

"Her birds. I am going to hang them in the sun, and they'll sing beautifully."

She went, and soon returned with a cage containing the little monias sent by Willie from Calcutta.

"There Kitty," cried Belle; "those are the birds that wake us so early every morning."

"Very likely," said Kitty; "bring them here. Goodness! what little creatures they are!--do look at them, Mr. Bruce--they are sweetly pretty."

"Put them down on the door-step, f.a.n.n.y," said Ben, "so that we can see them better."

"I'm afraid you'll frighten them," replied f.a.n.n.y; "Miss Gertrude doesn't like to have them frightened."

"No, we won't," said Ben; "we're disposed to be very friendly to Miss Gertrude's birds. Where did she get them? Do you know, f.a.n.n.y?"

"Why, they are Indian birds; Mr. Sullivan sent them to her."

"Who is he?"

"Oh, he is a very particular friend; she has letters from him every little while."

"What Mr. Sullivan?" asked Belle. "Do you know his Christian name?"

"I suppose it's William," said f.a.n.n.y. "Miss Emily always calls the birds little w.i.l.l.i.e.s."

"Belle!" exclaimed Kitty, "that's your William Sullivan."

"What a favourite man he seems to be!" said Mr. Bruce, in a tone of sarcasm; "the property of one beautiful lady and the particular friend of another."

"I don't know what you mean, Kitty," said Belle, tartly. "Mr. Sullivan is a junior partner of my father's, but I have not seen him for years."

"Except in your dreams, Belle," suggested Kitty. "You forget."