Say and Seal Volume Ii Part 100

It was done; and those downcast eyes must be lifted up, if they could.

But Faith was not unlike her usual manner. The slight air of timidity which sat with such grace upon her was not so very unusual; and that besides touched only or mainly one person. With blus.h.i.+ng quietness she let her friends kiss and congratulate her. It was rather kiss and caress her; for they came about her, that little bevy of friends, with a warmth that might have thawed Mr. Somers. Mrs. Derrick and Pet glad and silent, Reuben Taylor very shy, the Stoutenburghs in a little furor of interest which yet did not break pretty bounds. And then Faith went up to Ency where she sat by the window, and gave her two kisses, very grave and sweet.

"How beautiful you are, ma'am!" was the child's truthful comment.

"Do you know who 'Miss Faith' is now, Ency?"--"Yes sir," the child said, then shy of speaking it out, "Stoop down and I'll tell you."

Mr. Linden bent his head to hear the whisper, giving her a kiss in return, and then carried Faith off to the next room; where presently too the little lame girl was perched up at such a table as she had never dreamed of before.

It was a pretty gathering, both on the table and around it. The party of friends, few enough to be choice, were good and different enough to be picturesque; and had among them a sufficient amount of personal advantages to be, as Ency said, "beautiful." The table itself was very plain with regard to china and silver; but fruit is beautiful, and there was an abundance of that. Coffee of course; and cream, yellow as gold, for coffee and fruit both. There were more substantial things, to serve as subst.i.tutes for dinner, attesting Mrs. Derrick's good housekeeping at once, and the loving remembrance of friends. There had been little need to do much in the house. Mrs. Iredell had taken the wedding cake into her charge, which Mrs. Stoutenburgh not knowing had taken it into hers, and into her hands as well; so Faith had both the bought cake, of the richest and best ornamented to a point, and the home-made; with plain icing indeed, but wherein every raisin had been put with a sweet thought.

"This is--ha!--a very agreeable occasion!" said Mr. Somers, smiling at the ornamented plum cake which was before him. "I--a--really, I don't see, Mrs. Derrick, how anything could be improved for the pleasure of the party. We have done a good thing, and to good people, and it's been well done;" (Mr. Somers vaunted himself), "and in a good time,--ha--this is the prettiest month in the year, Mr. Linden; and now we are all enjoying a pleasant sight, before us and around us, and I enjoy my coffee also very much, Mrs Derrick. The only bad thing about it is--ha--that it rather spoils one for the next occasion. I a.s.sure you I haven't seen anything like it in Pattaqua.s.set, since I have lived here! I wasn't married here, Mrs. Stoutenburgh, take notice."

"I hope you don't mean to say you saw anything that was on the table the day _you_ were married, Mr. Somers!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh irreverently.

"Let's hear what you mean by well done,--let's hear, Mr. Somers," said the Squire.

"He means securely," said Mrs. Somers.

"I feel sure," said Mr. Somers with exquisite significancy, "I feel sure that _part_ of my audience were at no loss for the meaning of my words. Experience, somebody says, is the best commentary--hey, Mr.

Linden? is it not so?"--"What, sir?"

Mr. Somers laughed, gently. "I see you coincide with me in opinion, sir."

"I coincide with him in the opinion that it was well done to ring the bells," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "Reuben, I guess that was your doing."

"Never mind whose it was," said the Squire, "the bells were never put to a better use, week days, I'll venture. Mr. Linden, won't that lady by you let me give her another piece of chicken?"--"No, sir," came in a low voice that had a private chime of its own.

"Little bird," said Mr. Linden, softly, "do you know that all your compeers live by eating?"--"Crumbs" said Faith with equal softness.

"But of proportionate size!"--"Yes," said Faith.

"You know," he said in the same low voice, "to go back to our old maxim those bells may stand for the music, and we have certainly spoken a few sensible words; but if you do not look up how will you find the picture?"--She raised her eyes, but it was for a swift full glance up into his face; she looked nowhere else, and her eyes went back to her plate again. The involuntary, unconscious significance of the action made Mr. Linden smile.

"I have had mine now, Mignonette, and Ency spoke true."

"How long does it take people to get married," came in a good-humoured kind of a growl from the room they had left, the door to which was ajar. "Ain't it done yet?"

"There's Mr. Simlins, Endecott," whispered Faith, colouring.

"Come in and see," said Squire Stoutenburgh. "Who wants to know?"

Wherewith the door was pushed open, and Mr. Simlins long figure presented itself, and stood still.

"What are you uneasy about, Mr. Simlins?" the Squire went on. "You may go and shake hands with Mr. Linden, but don't congratulate anybody else." The farmer's eye rested for a moment on Faith; then he went round and shook hands with the bridegroom.

"Is it done?" he asked again in the midst of this ceremony.--"Yes."

"Past all help, Mr. Simlins," said Mrs. Somers.

"I am glad, for one!" Mr. Simlins answered. "Mayn't I see this cretur here? I wish you'd stand up and let me look at you."

Faith rose up, he had edged along to her. He surveyed her profoundly.

"Be you Faith Derrick?" he said.--"Yes, sir."

He shook _her_ hand then, holding it fast. "It's the true, and not a counter," he remarked to Mr. Linden. "Now, if you'd only take Neanticut, I could die content, only for liking to live and see you.

Where _are_ you going to take her to?"--"I am not sure yet."

"I guess I don't want you at Neanticut," said the farmer, taking a cup of coffee which Faith gave him. "Last Sunday fixed that. But there'll a bushel of Neanticut nuts follow you every year as long as I'm a Simlins, if you go to the Antipathies. No, I don't want anythin' to eat--I've done my eatin' till supper-time."

The door-knocker warned the party that they must not tarry round the lunch-table, and before Mr. Simlins had a chance to say anything more he had on his mind, the princ.i.p.al personages of the day were receiving Judge Harrison and his daughter in the other room. Mr. Simlins looked on, somewhat grimly, but with inward delight and exultation deep and strong. Miss Sophy was affectionate, the judge very kind; the congratulations of both very hearty; though Judge Harrison complained that Mr. Linden was robbing Pattaqua.s.set, and Sophy echoed the sorrow if not the complaint. In the midst of this came in Miss Essie de Staff, with a troop of brothers and sisters; and they had scarcely paid their compliments when they were obliged to stand aside to make room for some new comers. Miss Essie's eyes had full employment, and were rather earnest about it.

"She's beautifully dressed," she remarked to Mrs. Stoutenburgh, evidently meditating a good deal more than her words carried.

"Why, of course!" was Mrs. Stoutenburgh's quick response, "and so is he. Don't be partial in your examinations."

"Oh he, of course!" said Miss Essie, in the same manner.

"I never saw two people set each other off better," said Mrs.

Stoutenburgh.

"Set each other off?" repeated Miss Essie. "Why he'd set anybody off! I always admired him. Look at her! she hasn't an idea how to be ceremonious." Faith had been speaking to Mrs. Iredell. Just then a rosebud having detached itself from her dress, she went round the room to Ency by her window and gave it to her. Near this window Miss Linden had placed herself; the table before her covered with wedding cake and white ribbon, Reuben Taylor at her side to cut and fold, her little fingers daintily wrapping and tying up. Ency already held her piece of cake and white ribbon, and with the promise of other pieces to take home, watched Miss Linden's proceedings with interest. It was a busy table, for thither came everybody else after cake and white ribbon.

Thither came Mrs. Stoutenburgh now, quitting Miss Essie.

"Faith, what do you think Mr. Stoutenburgh asked me Sunday?"--"I don't know. What?" asked Faith, with her half-shy, half free, very happy face.

"You should have heard him!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, laughing, but speaking in the softest of whispers. "You should have heard the dismal way in which he asked me if Mr. Somers would go anywhere else, if he could get a chance."

Faith smiled, but evidently to her the question whether Mr. Linden should stay in Pattaqua.s.set had lost its interest.

"O I can find her, never fear!" said Miss Bezac, followed by Mr. Linden in Faith's direction. "Though I don't suppose you ever did fear anything. And I do suppose, if I've thought once I have fifty times how she'd look to-day, and I was right every time. Don't she look! I always told her she didn't know what she wanted--and I'm sure she don't now."

With which Miss Bezac gave Faith as hearty a congratulation as she had yet received. "Well," she said, turning to Mr. Linden, "do you wonder I wanted to make it?"--"Not in the least."

"But what do I want, Miss Bezac?" said Faith laughing and looking affectionately at her old friend and fellow-work-woman.

"Why I should think nothing," said Miss Bezac. "So it seems to me. And talking of seams--didn't I do yours! Do you know I should have come before, but I never can see two people promise to love each other forever without crying--and crying always makes rusty needles--so I wouldn't come till now, when everybody's laughing." Faith was an exception, for her amus.e.m.e.nt grew demure. And Miss Essie approached.

Now Miss Essie's black eyes, although bright enough, were altogether gracious, and in a certain way even propitiatory. They were bent upon the gentleman of the group.

"Mr. Linden," said the lady with her most flattering manner, "I want to know if you have forgiven me all my dreadful speeches that I made once."

"Miss Essie, I never questioned your right to make them, therefore you see my forgiveness has no place." Miss Essie looked as if her "study"

of Mr. Linden hadn't been thorough.

"That's very polite," she said; "too polite. But do you think Mrs.

Linden will ever let me come into her house?"

"Why not? It cannot be worse than you imagined."

"Because," said Miss Essie, earnestly, "I want to come, and I am afraid she will not ask me. I go everywhere, and wherever you are I shall be sure to come there some time; and then I want to see you and see how you live, and see if my theory was mistaken. But I drew it from experience!"