The Old Stone House Part 4

"Yes, Aunt; I think I shall take that money that is coming to me this month for the purpose. I do not care for many dresses, but they must be perfect of their kind, and I think I shall purchase that antique set of pearls at Carton's,"

"But they are very costly, Sibyl."

"Of course they are. I should not wish them if they were not rare.

Pearls become me, and the antique setting will set me off far better than anything modern; a white organdie, long and flowing, with the pearls, would be just my style," said Sibyl in a musing voice, as though she saw herself so arrayed. As she spoke, a vision rose before Aunt Faith's eyes: Sibyl at Saratoga, her cla.s.sical head and hair adorned with the antique circlet, rising in simple beauty from the soft, white draperies. "She will look like a Greek statue," thought the elder lady; "after all, how beautiful she is!"

The discussion went on, arranging the details of the various toilets, a committee of ways and means highly important in Sibyl's eyes.

"At any rate, you need not begin immediately, Sibyl," said Aunt Faith; "if you only wish two or three dresses; and those are to be so simple, a week will be time enough to devote to them. You can have a full month of quiet here with all of us, dear; and, after all, something may happen to change your plans."

"I think not, Aunt Faith. Are you going? Then I may as well finish my practising;" and for the next hour the Spring-song filled the parlor with its oft-repeated harmony.

Down in the back garden, Tom and Gem were deeply engaged in the construction of an underground shanty. The gra.s.sy terrace behind the north piazza sloped down in a gentle declivity towards the vegetable garden, and at the base of this small hill the two sappers and miners were at work, their operations being marked by a convenient growth of currant-bushes at the top. The three dogs watched the proceedings with great interest. Turk, always thoughtful of his own comfort, had stretched himself out near by under the shadow of the bushes, and Pete Trone, in the excess of his zeal, had burrowed so far into the hill that nothing was to be seen but his tail and hind legs; Grip, however, persisted in tearing around the garden in wild circles, barking furiously every time he pa.s.sed his master as if to encourage him in his labors. "This will never do!" said Tom, pausing and wiping his forehead; "Grip will spoil everything with his ridiculous barking, and the whole neighborhood will come to see what is the matter. Here, Grip! Here, this minute! Very well, sir! _ver-y_ well! _ex-treme-ly_ well! You'd better come, sir! You'd _bet-ter_,--oh! you're coming, are you? There! get into that tub, sir, and don't let me see you so much as wag your tail without permission!"

So Grip sat mournfully _in his_ tub, and watched the work in silence, resting his nose on the side, and blinking his eyes at every fresh shovel-full of earth. The sun shone out warmly, and the laborers felt the perspiration on their heated faces. Gem was the first to drop her shovel. "Oh, Tom!" she said, wiping her forehead, "my hands are all blistered!"

"What of that?" said Tom, shovelling steadily; "the honest hand of toil, you know." But Gem didn't know, and betook herself to the shade of the bushes for a rest. "There's d.i.c.k Nelson coming up through the pasture, Tom," she said, after a few moments.

"Is it? oh, how jolly! Now we'll have a shanty that will beat the town. I'll get d.i.c.k to bring all the B. B.'s to help."

So saying, Tom ran down to meet his friend, and the two, after some conversation, darted away to the right and the left, returning in about fifteen minutes with the "Band of Brothers," as they called themselves, a number of boys who lived in the vicinity, and hunted in a herd, as the neighbors said, for they were seldom seen apart.

"The B. B.'s have come, Gem! the B. B's have come!" cried Tom, as they approached; "now you'll see a shanty fit for a king! Just run in and get all the shovels you can find, will you?"

Gem obeyed, and having confiscated those in use in the kitchen, she went up to the garret to find the fire utensils belonging to the other rooms, stored away there for the summer. Collecting a number, she started to return, but, loaded as she was, this was no easy matter.

First one shovel fell, then another, and finally to save the whole load from going, she sat down on the stairs and considered the situation.

Hugh and Bessie were still in the studio; for, her troubles over, Bessie's good spirits had returned, and she had persuaded Hugh to give her a sitting in order that she might satisfy a long-cherished desire to paint his portrait. "But what can you make out of my stupid phiz?"

Hugh had said, laughing.

"I can make Fitz Hugh Warrington out of it; fair and golden, Saxon and strong; ruddy and stalwart; lithe and long. Now sit still, Hugh, and I will do my best. If you had black eyes I would not paint you; black eyes are _snaky_; that's the reason I don't like Gideon Fish."

"But he likes you, Queen Bess."

"No, he only likes Aunt Faith's cake. If he had to choose between me and pie, I am afraid I should not have a chance. As for jelly, he fairly gloats over it. Do you know, Hugh, I shall feel _so_ sorry for his wife when he marries; how tired she will be of him!"

"Oh, no, she won't," said Hugh; "she will think he is perfect, and cook for him all her life without ever once finding out what a humbug he is."

"Well, perhaps it is better so. Deception is sometimes a blessing,"

said Bessie. At this point a singular noise was heard outside the door; then another, and still another.

"What can that be?" said Hugh, opening the door; "Gem, what are you doing?"

"Oh, Hugh, don't make any noise," said Gem, in a whisper.

"_I_ am not making any noise. It is you with your shovels. What are you doing with them?" asked Hugh, laughing.

"Oh, Hugh, please don't tell! but Tom and the B. B.'s are making an underground shanty, and they sent me for all the shovels, and I got all I could find, and now I can't carry them," said Gem dolefully.

"An underground shanty! What in the world are you going to do with it, and who are the B. B.'s?" asked Hugh, relieving his little cousin from her load, and carrying it down the stairs for her.

"Live in it, like Robinson Crusoe, you know, and roast potatoes and everything."

"It will be rather hot, won't it, p.u.s.s.y?"

"Oh, no!" said Gem decisively; "Tom says it will be delightfully cool.

We're going to have a stove, and chairs, and a table, and candles, and things to eat; and then the dogs can stay there too. Grip has never had a regular house, you know, and Tom says it isn't respectable for him to be loose round the garden at night any more, and so he's going to let him live in the shanty."

"Happy Grip!" said Hugh, as he delivered the shovels at the foot of the stairs; "but who are the B. B.'s, Gem?"

"Oh! the Band of Brothers,--a secret society. Don't let them see you, please, Hugh, for I promised not to tell, and I'm almost afraid of them, they've got such a dreadful motto."

"What is it, p.u.s.s.y?"

"Ruin, Riot, and Revenge," said Gem in a solemn whisper.

"Well done, B. B.'s!" said Hugh laughing; "truly, a terrific motto!

There, take your shovels and run, little one. I won't betray you."

So the shovels disappeared, and Hugh, returning to the studio, related the adventure to Bessie with a hearty laugh. "Do you know anything about the B. B.'s?" he asked, as Bessie resumed her work.

"Oh, yes!" she replied; "I know them to my cost. They are ruin to water-melons, riot on peaches, and revenge to anyone who interferes with them. A few weeks ago, they frightened Mrs. Lane and her sister almost into a fainting-fit. You know that high board fence below here?

Well! one evening the B. B.'s happened to find out that they were over at Mrs. Reed's, so they waited until the ladies came along, and then they laid themselves down on the ground close behind the fence, and putting their mouths against the boards, groaned out, one by one, 'seven years ago I was murdered and buried under this fence, oh!--oh!--oh!'--each boy keeping up the groan until the next one took it up as the ladies hurried by."

Hugh laughed; "What did they do it for?" he asked.

"Oh, I believe Mrs. Lane had ordered them out of her garden, one day, when they were playing there with her Johnny."

"I am afraid if Aunt Faith knew they were undermining her terrace, she would order them out of her's, too."

"I think not, Hugh. Aunt Faith likes boys, and she never seems to see their pranks."

"Dear Aunt Faith! she is certainly the kindest aunt a graceless nephew ever had," said Hugh warmly.

"That she is; I love her dearly, and I do mean to try not to vex her any more," said Bessie earnestly.

"But, the horseback-riding, Bessie!"

"But, the horseback-riding, Hugh!"

The two offenders looked at each other a moment in silence, and then burst into a peal of laughter.

"It's of no use," said Bessie; "we can't be good."

"Do you think Aunt Faith would be very much shocked if we should tell her?" asked Hugh.

"Of course she would. She does not like to see a lady on horseback, because her cousin was killed by a fall from a horse, you know. Still, she might not forbid my going, provided I would ride quietly on a country road; but that is just what I do not want to do. The whole excitement is in the racing, you know."

"Well, I suppose it would be better not to tell her, then," said Hugh slowly.