The Harvest of Years Part 14

"That is more like it," said Clara. "How do you do to-day? let me take your things."

"Don't feel very scrumptious, and ain't sick neither, kinder so so. How are all here? I heard Mis' Minot was gone. Ain't you lonesome?"

"We do miss her sadly," said Clara.

"Gone to a weddin', ain't she?" I laughed aloud.

"Only for a change," said Clara.

"Why, Mis' Grover"--

Clara waited for no news, but said quickly:

"You were very kind, thinking we were lonely, to come over and see. Come into the other side of the house," and she led the way to her sitting-room.

"Oh! ain't this be-yoo-ti-ful! What a wonderful change from the old side of this house! I declare, I should think Mr. Minot would be thankful enough for this addition to his house."

"Oh! I am the one to be thankful," said Clara, "he was so kind as to build it for me."

"Oh! he built it, hey; with his own money, did he?"

"Certainly, he never would use any other person's. Cousin Minot in a very nice man."

"Is he your cousin?" said Jane in astonishment.

"Why, of course he is. Did you not know of it?"

"Never heard of it before."

"What are you knitting?" said Clara.

"Stockings," was the monosyllabled reply.

"Did you ever knit silk?"

"Shouldn't think I did. I ain't grand enough to afford that."

"You could, though, I know," said Clara.

"Why, I dunno,--praps so." Jane North was foiled, and she succ.u.mbed as gracefully as she could, although awkwardly enough; but Clara went on:

"I have some beautiful silk thread, I have had it for years. My grandfather's people, over in France, were silk weavers. It is through my mother that I am related to Mr. Minot; my father's people were French," she said, noticing an incredulous look in the eyes of Jane. "I have a lot of silk in thread and floss: I'll get the box and show it to you," and she did.

My own curiosity led me into the room--I had stood back of the door all this time--and the silk was beautiful; rich dark shades and fancy colors mingled, and a quant.i.ty of it too. Although kept so long, it was strong, having been of such fine material.

"Sakes alive! I should be scar't to death to own all that," said Jane.

"Well," said Clara, "if you will show me how to knit some for myself, I will be willing to scare you a little. I would like to give you enough to make a pair or two of stockings for yourself. Chose your own colors,"

and she emptied the contents of the box on the lounge at her side.

"You don't mean it, Mis' De-mond."

"Certainly I do, take any shade you prefer, and if Emily has needles, we will go right to work on our cutting."

The right string was touched, the cutting started, and when Jane North left us, she whispered to me:

"I like that woman, and I don't care whether she is a Baptist, or what she is, she's a lady."

Those stockings averted much, for her head was full of wonder talk.

I reminded Clara of the indignation she felt at her expressions, when she first saw her, and told her I did not suppose she ever would desire to look at her again.

"Why, Emily," she said, "I never feel like annihilating people whose ideas are all wrong. They are but representatives at the most, and I would rather desire to help these eaters of husks to find the true bread that shall bring to them comfort and peace. I should wish to fill their hearts so full that the rays of this inner light shall radiate around them, touching with the magic of good deeds all the suffering our world contains. This would leave no empty rooms in the house of our understanding; all would be filled with tenants of good-will and loving faith, bearing charity and love each toward the other; and uncultivated fields would be found no more. I thought if I could touch Miss North in the right spot, I might fill her mind, for a few brief hours at least, with something beside her gossip. If this could be done every day in the week, she would lose sight of it altogether, and like a tree engrafted with better fruit, on these new thought-branches beautiful wisdom apples might grow and ripen. If she comes again I will find something as new to her, I hope, as I have found to-day."

"What a wonderful compound you are, Clara," I said, "and what perfect symmetry nature has given to you, while I am your antipodes."

"What's that you are calling yourself?" said Aunt Hildy.

"Oh, something just different from all that is good and true enough to belong to Clara!"

"'Pears to me you're gettin' some dretful big word now-a-days; when you want me to understand you, talk plain English."

Hal, who had entered that moment, laughed heartily. "So I say, Aunt Hildy. Our Emily is going to be a blue-stocking, I fear. Housework will suffer before long, for housework and book cannot go together."

"No more than ploughs and plaster," I added.

"Not a bit more, sister mine," and he pa.s.sed his arm around my waist,--he often did this now-a-days,--and whispered, "give me a chance to say something to you."

I nodded an a.s.sent, and he pa.s.sed on through the room, whistling to himself "Bonny Doon." I embraced the first opportunity to follow him, and found him alone in his studio. He seated himself beside me, took one hand in his and pa.s.sed an arm around me. I wished he could have been my lover then, in fact, I often wished it, for he was as good as he was handsome, both n.o.ble hearted and n.o.ble looking. He was to me the embodiment of all that was good and all that went to make the best man in the world.

"Emily," he began, "you have been a blessed sister to me; I have loved you always, even though I plagued you so much, and you have been faithful to me. I entrusted to you the first great secret of my life, when I sought you under the apple tree."

"Why could you not have told me more?" I said.

"For the sole reason it would have been hard for you to have kept it from mother, and I wanted to surprise you all at home. Your hand, Emily, was the one that held the cup of life to my lips; and Louis," he added in a tender tone, "with his sympathy and the power of his heart and hand, led me slowly back to strength. Louis is a grand boy. Now, Emily,"

and he drew me still closer, "I have something else to tell you."

"Don't go away, Hal."

"I desire to stay, but, Emily, I love Mary Snow. I want to tell you of it. I cannot speak positively as to what may happen, but I love her very dearly. Could you be glad to receive her as a sister?"

Selfish thoughts arose at the thought of losing Hal, but I banished them at once, and my heart spoke truly when I said:

"Mary Snow is good enough for you, Hal. I have always liked her so much, but how stupid I am, never to have dreamed of this."

"No?" said he, as if surprised. "Never dreamed of it? Do you think it strange that I should tell you, Emily? I have seen the time when it would seem very silly to me, but I have learned to realize how great is the tie that binds us, and I hope through all the years you and I will never be apart. I ask of you, too, one promise. Do not tell even Clara, and if ever you have such a secret, tell me frankly, for we should love each other, and our joys should be mutual."

I said not a word, but I thought of Louis, and I longed to show him the chain and locket, which I constantly wore, but I could not, and I have wished since that I might have been wiser. At this moment Mr. Benton entered, and our position did not escape him.