The Last of the Foresters Part 13

Redbud returned his frank smile, and said, with a delicious little prim expression:

"Did you want to see me very much, Verty?"

"Yes, indeed; I didn't know how much I liked you," said the boy, with his ingenuous laugh; "the woods didn't look right, and I was always thinking about you."

Redbud colored slightly, but this soon disappeared, and she laughed in that low, joyous, musical tone, which characterized her.

"There it is!" said Verty, going through the same ceremony; "that's one thing I missed."

"What?"

"Your laughing!"

"Indeed!" Redbud said.

"Yes, indeed. I declare, on my word, that I would rather hear you laugh, than listen to the finest mocking-bird in the world."

"You are very gallant!" said Miss Redbud.

"_Anan_?" said Verty.

"I mean you are very friendly to me, Verty," said Redbud, with a bright look at his frank face.

"Why, what have I done? I hav'nt done anything for you, for ages. Let me see--can't I do something now? Oh yes, there are some flowers, and I can make a nice wreath!"

And Verty ran and gathered an armful of primroses, marigolds, and golden rods; some late roses, too, and so returned to Redbud.

"Now come to the arbor here--it's just like the Apple Orchard one--come, and I'll make you a crown."

"Oh! I don't deserve it," laughed the young girl.

Verty smiled.

"Yes, you do," he said, "for you are my queen."

And he went and sat down upon the trellised bench, and began weaving a wreath of the delicate yellow autumn primroses and other flowers.

Redbud sat down and watched him.

Placed thus, they presented a singular contrast, and, together, formed a picture, not wanting in a wild interest--Verty, clothed in his forest costume of fur and beads, his long, profusely-curling hair hanging upon his shoulders, and his swarthy cheeks, round, and reddened with health, presented rather the appearance of an Indian than an Anglo-Saxon--a handsome wild animal rather than a pleasant young man. Redbud's face and dress were in perfect contrast with all this--she was fair, with that delicate rose-color, which resembles the tender flush of sunset, in her cheeks; her hair was brushed back from her forehead, and secured behind with a large bow of scarlet ribbon; her dress was of rich silk, with hanging sleeves; a profusion of yellow lace, and a dozen rosettes affixed to the dress, in front, set off the costume admirably, and gave to the young girl that pretty attractive _toute ensemble_ which corresponded with her real character.

As she followed Verty's movements, the frank little face wore a very pleasant smile, and at times she would pick up and hand to him a leaf or a bud, which attention he rewarded with a smile in return.

At last the wreath was finished, and, rising up, Verty placed it on Redbud's forehead.

"How nicely it fits," he said; "who would have imagined that my awkward fingers could have done it?"

Redbud sat down with a slight color in her cheek.

"I am very much obliged to you, Verty," she said; "it was very good in you to make this for me--though I don't deserve it."

"Indeed you do--you are my queen: and here is the right place for me."

So saying, Verty smiled, and lay down at the feet of Redbud, leaning on the trellised bench, and looking up into that young lady's eyes.

"You look so pretty!" he said, after a silence of some moments, "so nice and pretty, Redbud!"

"Do I?" said Redbud, smiling and blushing.

"And so good."

"Oh, no--I am not!"

"Not good?"

"Far from it, Verty."

"Hum!" said Verty, "I should like to know how! I might be better if you were at Apple Orchard again."

"Better?"

"Yes, yes--why can't you live at Apple Orchard, where we were so happy?"

Redbud smiled.

"You know I am growing up now," she said.

"Growing up?"

"Yes; and I must learn my lessons--those lessons which cousin Lavinia can't teach me!"

"What lessons are they?"

"Music, and dancing, and singing, and all."

Verty reflected.

"Are they better than the Bible?" he said, at length.

Redbud looked shocked, and replied to the young savage:

"Oh no, no!--I hardly think they are important at all; but I suppose every young lady learns them. It is necessary," added the little maiden, primly.

"Ah, indeed? well, I suppose it is," Verty replied, thoughtfully; "a real lady could'nt get along without knowing the minuet, and all that.

But I'm mighty sorry you had to go. I've lost _my_ teacher by your going."

Redbud returned his frank look, and said: