They got safely to the foot of the mountain, and safely home--tired enough, but cheerful, already eagerly discussing what was to be done on the doctor's next day of leisure, which, however, was not likely to come very soon.

CHAPTER TEN.

A BAD DREAM.

"Eunice," said Mrs Stone, "there is something I want to say to you, only I am afraid you won't like it."

"Even if I shouldn't like it, I don't know that that would be a good reason why you shouldn't say it," responded Eunice, with a smile.

They were sitting together in the front porch, into which the sun was shining brightly; and in September days, when the afternoons are shortening, the sunshine is welcome among these hills, for warmth as well as brightness. They had been sitting there for an hour or two, sometimes exchanging a word about their work, or their neighbours, or the pa.s.sers-by, but on the whole inclined to silence. Eunice had a book on her lap, and her sewing also, but they had both been neglected for a while. Mrs Stone was knitting steadily on, as if there were nothing more interesting to her at the moment than her monotonous work.

Fidelia had gone with the Everett children and their mother, and several other young people, on the long-talked-of blackberrying expedition, which had been delayed so often for one reason and another that the chances were against success, as far as the fruit was concerned. There had been some discussion as to the wisdom of calling it a nutting expedition instead, though it was early yet to think of getting nuts.

But it did not really matter about either the one or the other. The chances were they would find that which they were seeking, though they should get neither nuts nor berries.

The young people had gone in Deacon Ainsworth's hay-cart, seated on a pile of fragrant hay, and with Jabez in charge of the oxen. Mrs Stone had been invited to go with them, but she had declined.

"Mother is coming in the chaise, and Uncle Justin," said Susie Everett.

"Mother was afraid of the hay-cart. If you can drive, you might go with mother, Mrs Stone. Uncle Justin wouldn't mind going in the cart, I am sure."

"No, I don't much believe he would, under the circ.u.mstances," Mrs Stone had answered; but she still declined. The invitation had been renewed when the chaise pa.s.sed half-an-hour afterwards, but had been again declined.

"I should have liked to go, just to know how it would seem to be there again," said she. But she had a stronger reason for staying than for going. She had something to say to Eunice which it would be as well to say when Fidelia was not within call.

"Well?" said Eunice, after a pause.

"Well; it isn't so much that I am afraid you won't like it, as that I shall hurt you."

"But if it is to do me good, I shall not mind the hurt after a little."

"But then I should feel dreadfully if you were to turn round and tell me I'd better mind my own business."

"A good deal of my business is yours now, Ruby," said Eunice, smiling still, but with a slow rising of colour to her cheeks.

"Well, I don't know, certainly, that you will think this is; but I know that I mean you nothing but good, and her too."

"Fidelia! Say what you have to say, Ruby."

"Well, I will. Hasn't it ever come into your mind that Justin Everett was letting his thoughts turn towards Fidelia?"

"Justin Everett!--Fidelia!"

There was not another word spoken for a good many minutes. Eunice sat with her eyes cast down and with her colour coming and going; and Mrs Stone, seemingly intent on her knitting, noted every change on the beautiful face. But she waited for Eunice to speak first, and in a little she did so quietly enough.

"I cannot say that I have never thought such a thing possible; but I have never seen any reason to make me think that it had happened. Have you, Ruby?"

"Well, if anybody--say Mrs Holt or Mrs Ainsworth--were to come and tell me all that I could tell you, I expect as likely as not I should tell _them_ that all that amounted to nothing. It does not seem anything to tell. Well, a glance maybe, or a long look at her when he never supposed there was any one to take notice! It does not seem much to tell it, but the thought has come into my mind."

"And Fidelia?"

"Oh, as to Fidelia--I guess she's all right! I can't tell you anything about Fidelia. She didn't like him at first--anybody could see that.

They are friendly now. Oh, yes, quite friendly! but I guess, Eunice, it is as your friend that Fidelia thinks of Justin Everett."

"He _is_ my friend," said Eunice gravely. And after a little she added--"We will not speak any more about this just now, Ruby. By-and-by perhaps I may. No, you haven't hurt me. And I could bear to be hurt by you, Ruby, for my good or for Fidelia's."

And not another word was spoken on the subject for a long time after that.

The sun was set, but the moon was up before the young people came home.

The chaise came first, and was stopped a minute at the gate. Eunice stayed in the porch, but Mrs Stone went down to speak to Mrs Everett at the gate.

"I have got Fidelia with me," said Mrs Everett. "I wanted Justin to stay to take care of the young people. I should have been troubled about them; they are so full of frolic that they forget to take care of themselves. And I knew I should feel safe with Fidelia driving."

"I am going to drive Mrs Everett all the way home, Eunice," said Fidelia.

"There is no need. I guess I can drive myself the rest of the way."

But, knowing the lady's timidity, Eunice told Fidelia she had better go on.

"And I will send Jotham back with her at once," said Mrs Everett.

And so she did; and the chaise had not gone again before the sound of voices singing told that the party in the hay-cart were drawing near.

There was a general outcry when it was discovered that Fidelia had not remained at Dr Everett's, where the young people were to have tea, and spend the evening. She was intreated to return with them. Dr Justin had gone to the door to speak to Eunice, and Susie followed him, begging him to ask permission for Fidelia to go. But Eunice said, in her gentlest voice, that she would like Fidelia to stay at home; and Dr Justin said nothing.

"Would you like to have gone, Fidelia?" asked Eunice, as they went into the house.

"No; I didn't care about going. I have had enough of noise and nonsense for one day. Oh, yes, I enjoyed it! We didn't get many berries; and-- there!--they have carried mine off with them. I am hungry. I will tell you all about it by-and-by."

But there was nothing of very much interest to tell. Dr Justin's name came in with the rest, rather more readily than had been the case when she first came home, and neither of her listeners lost word, or tone, or gesture. But Fidelia had nothing of special interest to tell, and certainly she had nothing to conceal.

"She does not care for him. She is not thinking about him," said Eunice to herself.

"She does not care for him, or she does not know it," thought Mrs Stone; and both women were glad in their hearts that Dr Justin's visit was drawing to a close.

And so were others among his friends. At that moment Dr Everett and his wife were saying a few words to one another on the same subject.

"I am afraid he is thinking about her--that he does care for her," said the gentle little lady, who, much against her will, had been induced to go with the young people in the afternoon, because her husband had said it was the right thing to do. "No; I am quite sure he has not spoken, and I don't think Fidelia has the least thought of such a thing."

"And he mustn't speak. I would not have Miss Eunice troubled now for more than I can say. No he must not speak; and yet I don't see how I can tell him so, unless he first speaks to me."

"But, husband, do you think it would trouble her? I think Eunice Marsh is far beyond all such trouble now. And if--"

"We will not speak about it. Eunice is very near heaven, as I believe; but she can never be beyond caring for what must affect her sister's happiness. Justin must not speak. It would be the same sad story over again. Fidelia would never leave her sister if she knew her state. And she would have to know it. I do not think Justin will speak--now-- unless he should be betrayed into it. But one can never tell. I am thankful he has but another day."

"But another day!" Dr Justin had said those words a good many times to himself during the afternoon, but he had not said them, as his brother did, with thankfulness. He did not mean to speak to Fidelia. He told himself that he must not speak; that speaking to her now could do no good--only evil. He wished the day well over, and for the moment he did not care to look beyond it.

They all said--"Only another day!" But much, either for good or ill, may happen in one day--even in one moment. And the next day it happened to Fidelia that the knowledge came to her, not of Justin Everett's secret, but of her own. It was n.o.body's fault, but it was a great misfortune; and it happened in this way.

In the afternoon, while the sisters and Mrs Stone were sitting in the porch in the sunshine, Jabez Ainsworth pa.s.sed in the doctor's chaise, and he stopped to tell them that he was going down to the depot to see about Dr Justin's filly.

"Dr Justin will be along in a few minutes riding her. She must be aboard the cars to-night, they say, and I am to stay with her to see that she doesn't get scared or anything. Dr Justin will drive home in the chaise." And Jabez went on.