Mr. Spriggins had penetration enough to see in what, direction Mrs.
Arnold's thoughts were drifting and his discretion came to his aid.
"Wal, this ere affair will be a nine-days wonder among the nabers, the folks will be so jealous that they'll not come to have a squint at the brick-nacks--that's what you call them ere ornaments and sich things ain't it?"
"Bric-a-brac, Mr. Spriggins," replied Mrs. Arnold, in the mildest manner possible; also trying to appear serious.
"Wal, I'll be jist like Melindy. When she's a-puttin on airs before the nabers sometimes she'll tell 'em she ain't out enough now to know sich and sich things!"
The music ceased before Mrs. Arnold had time to reply, and with an air of awkward gallantry Mr. Spriggins led his partner to a seat.
"Never say again that you can't dance, Mr. Spriggins," cried the exuberant Lottie, bounding toward the latter with the grace of a fairy, "and be sure to remember that you are my partner for the next round dance."
"Round dance," said Moses in perplexity.
"A polka for instances, Mr. Spriggins!"
"Oh, yes, when I used ter go to school the gals used to have me a-dancin'--this is the way it goes Miss Lottie," and instantly Mr.
Spriggins was performing sundry evolutions to his own accompaniment of "I've got a polka trimmed with blue."
"If that Moses ain't a-makin' a guy of himself a-dancin' I'd like to know," cried Melindy, as she emerged from the kitchen and caught a view of her better half in his inimitable polka feat.
But Mr. Spriggin was unconcious of the fact and nothing happened to mar the effect of the successful attempt.
The brilliant Louise Rutherford might indeed claim more than a pa.s.sing thought; her striking beauty was never more conspicuous that when surrounded by her most intimate friends and partaking of the hospitality of Mr. Moses Spriggins.
With due respect to host and hostess, the young ladies had appeared in their most bewitching toilets, and in response to Marguerite's playful reminder, "Louise, it is a wedding celebration," the latter had donned a handsomely-trimmed garnet silk relieved by a heavy gold necklace, while a broad band of gold crowned the dusky hair and made a fitting coronet for the dark-eyed Houris.
"I cannot realize that you are going away so soon, Helen. It is selfish to wish that you would remain this winter, but self is my besetting sin."
Helen Rushton put her plump white arm around the speakers waist, and thus they sat for several minutes.
Helen was to start for home on the first of the week following, and her companions could not bear the thought. Louise Rutherford loved the girl as a sister, and though their natures were strongly in contrast there was a firm bond of sympathy between them.
"Just think Louise how many changes have taken place since I came?
Who then would have dreamed that Josie Jordan would become a clergyman's wife?"
"Think!" said Louise, with considerable feeling, "I dare not let myself think, each day brings its own thoughts. Life to me is made up of enigmas and puzzling contradictions, and not being endowed with an extra amount of brain power content myself with the comforting words--''tis folly to be wise.'"
"What shall I call you, Louise, a pessimist?"
"For goodness sake! Helen, be moderate. Remember that a successful speaker always adapts himself to the capacity of his hearers."
"What's all this about? preaching I suppose--something about hearers! Jennie Montgomery!" cried both girls in concert.
Cousin Jennie was truly the ruling spirit of the party. She was ready for anything that was proposed and met each difficulty with a happy solution.
Had Louise Rutherford gone further into the subject of changes she might have claimed the bright eyed Jennie as ill.u.s.tration.
A change had come to happy "Gladswood," Leslie Graham had won the esteem of aunt Hester, and in return had gained the heart of her daughter.
The fond mother does not regret her loss for she knows that the young man is possessed of all those traits of character which are truly n.o.ble and elevating, and which cannot fail to bring happiness to her whose happiness is his only concern.
Ah! yes, in Jennie Montgomery's face one can read her secret. She loves and is loved in return and that is all we wish to know.
A few minutes later, by a happy coincidence, there is a quartette grouped together in careless but artistic style.
"This reminds me of a morning at 'Sunnybank.' Do you remember it Madge?"
A slight quiver of the pretty lips was followed by a faint blush-- Helen Rushton raised her hand as if to gain audience.
"That is intended for me girls. I am the only one who is not engaged. I was at 'Sunnybank' on the morning to which Miss Louise refers, and certainly I was the one who made the remark."
"Helen is mistaken, I think," said Marguerite in her soft, sweet way.
"She is indeed," said Louise, with much earnestness. "It was while we were in the library, and all sitting together Josie Jordan suddenly called out: 'Girls where will we all be two years from now?
That two years expired yesterday, and the thought now occurred to me as we became grouped together in the old familiar way."
"Forgive me, Louise, darling, I am too impulsive. Let us now take on two more years and hope that when the time expires we will be as happy then as now."
"Heaven grant it thus," was the fervent prayer of each, though the words were unsaid, and as the merry party returned homeward full of life and gaiety there were none who felt happier than Marguerite Verne and her three companions.
A glorious autumn day in 1886 brings together a joyous and happy group--the old familiar one. The hostess of the luxurious home is the wife of Phillip Lawson. Ah! Marguerite you can never lose your angelic beauty and softness of expression. In the violet eyes there is a light that sheds a radiance over the little household, and imparts a warmth to each suffering heart that has been chilled by contact with the selfish and calculating world.
"Helen you are a darling! you are true blue!" were the words which greeted the smiling visitor as she pounced in upon the fair young matron, with the flush of excitement upon her fair, broad forehead and oval cheeks.
"Girls you look charming! One would think you were expecting your beaux instead of a few old married men! Why I thought when folks got married they did not primp at all."
"I'm glad that you are agreeably mistaken, my dear," said Mrs.
Noyes, her charms enhanced by the rich bronze silk de Lyons, that set off her faultless form to advantage.
Mrs. Arnold now entered, followed by Mrs. Verne and a host of hearty congratulations were pa.s.sed around within a very short time.
Mrs. Phillip Lawson's boudoir was a perfect gem in itself, its pale blue and silver draperies harmonizing with the taste of its mistress, while the delicate and artistic touches of the graceful hand were proof of the labors of love there performed.
"Madge! you old dear, the only thing I envy you is this charming spot," said Helen as she stood admiring the pretty work while the others are reclining upon the inviting ottomans, and cosey chairs of the most unique designs.
"The very words I said when I first entered it," said Cousin Jennie, looking as youthful as when we met her at "Sunnybank."
"The effect of mind upon mind," said Mrs. Noyes, with a sly, roguish smile upon the red pouting lips.
Helen Rushton threw herself into a handsomely carved fauteuil with cushion of pale blue satin, embroidered with a wreath of lily of the valley and soft cream roses.
"How time flies!--two years girls, since we made our promise--and I am the only old maid left in the crowd. What a world of consolation is in that thought!"
"Helen Rushton this is a fit place for your confession, and you shall not stir until you have made it, my precious one."