The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor

by Annie F. Johnston

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE FOUR-LEAVED CLOVER

  As Betty carefully blotted the last page and placed the stopper in theink-bottle, the clock in the hall began to strike, and she realized thatshe must have been writing fully an hour. The whole household was astirnow. She would be late to breakfast unless she hurried with herdressing.

  Steps on the gravelled path below the balcony made her peep out betweenthe vines. Stuart and Doctor Bradford were coming back from an earlystroll about the place. The wistaria clung too closely to the trellisfor them to see her, but, as they crossed the grassy court between thetwo wings, they looked up at Eugenia's balcony opposite. Betty lookedtoo. That bower of golden-hearted roses had drawn her glances more thanonce that morning. Now in the midst of it, in a morning dress of pink,fresh and fair as a blossom herself, stood Eugenia, reaching up for ahalf-blown bud above her head. Her sleeves fell back from her gracefulwhite arms, and as she broke the bud from its stem a shower ofrose-petals fell on her dusky hair and upturned face.

  Then Betty saw that Doctor Bradford had passed on into the house,leaving Stuart standing there with his hat in his hand, smiling up atthe beautiful picture above him.

  "Good morrow, Juliet," he called, softly. "Happy is the bride the sunshines on. Was there ever such a glorious morning?"

  "It's perfect," answered Eugenia, leaning out of her rose bower to smiledown at him.

  "I wonder if the bride's happiness measures up to the morning," heasked. "Mine does."

  For answer she glanced around, her finger on her lips as if to warn himthat walls have ears, and then with a light little laugh tossed therosebud down to him. "Wait! I'll come and tell you," she said.

  Betty, gathering up her writing material, saw him catch the rose, touchit to his lips and fasten it in his coat. Then, conscience-smitten thatshe had seen the little by-play not intended for other eyes, she boltedback into her room through the window, so hurriedly that she struck herhead against the sash with a force which made her see stars for severalminutes.

  The first excitement after breakfast was the arrival of the bride'scake. Aunt Cindy had baked it, the bride herself had stirred the charmsinto it, but it had been sent to Louisville to be iced. Lloyd called theentire family into the butler's pantry to admire it, as it satimposingly on a huge silver salver.

  "It looks as if it might have come out of the Snow Queen's palace," shesaid, "instead of the confectionah's. Wouldn't you like to see the placewhere those snow-rose garlands grow?"

  "Somebody take Phil away from it! Quick!" said Stuart. "Once I had abirthday cake iced in pink with garlands of white sugar roses all aroundit, and he sneaked into the pantry before the party and picked off somany of the roses that it looked as if a mouse had nibbled the edges.Aunt Patricia put him to bed and he missed the party, but we couldn'tpunish him that way if he should spoil the wedding cake, because we needhis services as best man. So we'd better remove him from temptation."

  "Look here, son," answered Phil, taking Stuart by the shoulders andpushing him ahead of him. "When it comes to raking up youthful sinsyou'd better lie low. 'I could a tale unfold' that would make Eugeniathink that this is 'a fatal wedding morn,' If she knew all she wouldn'thave you."

  "Then you sha'n't tell anything," declared Lloyd. "I'm not going to becheated out of my share of the wedding, no mattah what a dahk pasteithah of you had. Forget it, and come and help us hunt the foah-leafclovahs that Eugenia wants for the dream-cake boxes."

  "What are they?" asked Miles Bradford, as he edged out of the pantryafter the others. Mary happened to be the one in front of him, and sheturned to answer, pointing to one of the shelves, where lay a pile oftiny heart-shaped boxes, tied with white satin ribbons.

  "Each guest is to have one of those," she explained. "There'll be apiece of wedding cake in it, and a four-leaf clover if we can findenough to go around. Most people don't have the clovers, but Eugeniaheard about them, and she wants to try all the customs that everybodyever had. You put it under your pillow for three nights, and whateveryou dream will come true. If you dream about the same person all threenights, that is the one you will marry."

  "Horrible!" exclaimed he, laughing. "Suppose one has nightmares. Willthey come true?"

  Mary nodded gravely. "Mom Beck says so, and Eliot. So did old Mrs.Bisbee. She's the one that told Eugenia about the clovers. There was onewith her piece of cake from her sister's wedding, that she dreamed onnearly fifty years ago. She dreamed of Mr. Bisbee three nights straightahead, and she said there never was a more fortunate wedding. They'llcelebrate their golden anniversary soon."

  "Miss Mary," asked her listener, solemnly, "do you girls really believeall these signs and wonders? I have heard more queer superstitions thefew hours I have been in this Valley, than in all my life before."

  "Oh, no, we don't really believe in them. Only the darkies do that. Butyou can't help feeling more comfortable when they 'point right' for youthan when they don't; like seeing the new moon over your right shoulder,you know. And it's fun to try all the charms. Eugenia says so manybrides have done it that it seems a part of the performance, like theveil and the trail and the orange-blossoms."

  They passed from the dining-room into the hall, then out on to the frontporch, where they stood waiting for Joyce and Eugenia to get theirhats. While they waited, Rob Moore joined them, and they explained thequest they were about to start upon.

  "Where are you going to take us, Miss Lloyd?" asked Miles Bradford."According to the old legend the four-leaved clover is to be found onlyin Paradise."

  "Oh, do you know a legend about it?" asked Betty, eagerly. "I've alwaysthought there ought to be one."

  "Then you must read the little book, Miss Betty, called 'Abdallah, orthe Four-leaved Shamrock.' Abdallah was a son of the desert who spenthis life in a search for the lucky shamrock. He had been taught that itwas the most beautiful flower of Paradise. One leaf was red like copper,another white like silver, the third yellow like gold, and the fourthwas a glittering diamond. When Adam and Eve were driven out of thegarden, poor Eve reached out and clutched at a blossom to carry awaywith her. In her despair she did not notice what she plucked, but, asshe passed through the portal, curiosity made her open her hand to lookat the flower she had snatched. To her joy it was the shamrock. Butwhile she looked, a gust of wind caught up the diamond leaf and blew itback within the gates, just as they closed behind her. The name of thatleaf was Perfect Happiness. That is why men never find it in this worldfor all their searching. It is to be found only in Paradise."

  "Oh, but I don't believe that!" cried Lloyd. "Lots and lots of times Ihave been perfectly happy, and I am suah that everybody must be at sometime or anothah in this world."

  "Yes, but you didn't stay happy, did you?" asked Joyce, who had comeback in time to hear part of the legend. "We get glimpses of it now andthen, as poor Eve did when she opened her hand, but part of it alwaysflies away while we are looking at it. People can be contented all thetime, and happy in a mild way, but nobody can be perfectly, radiantlyhappy all the time, day in and day out. The legend is right. It is onlyin Paradise that one can find the diamond leaf."

  "Joyce talks as if she were a hundred yeahs old," laughed Lloyd, lookingup at Doctor Bradford. "Maybe there is some truth in yoah old Orientallegend, but I believe times have changed since Abdallah went a-hunting.Phil and I came across a song the othah day that I want you all to heah.Maybe it will make you change yoah minds."

  Phil protested with many grimaces and much nonsense that he "could notsing the old songs now." That he would not "be butchered to make a Romanholiday." But all the time he protested, he was stepping toward thepiano in a fantastic exaggerated cake-walk that set his audience tolaughing. At the first low notes of the accompaniment, he dropped hisfoolishness and began to sing in a full, sweet voice that brought theold Colonel to the door of his den to listen. Eliot, packing trunks inthe upper hall, leaned over the banister:

  "I know a place where the sun is like gold, And t
he cherry blooms burst with snow. And down underneath is the loveliest nook Where the four-leaf clovers grow.

  "One leaf is for hope and one is for faith, And one is for love you know, And God put another one in for luck. If you search you will find where they grow.

  "And you must have hope and you must have faith. You must love and be strong, and so If you work, if you wait, you will find the place Where the four-leaf clovers grow."

  It was a sweet, haunting melody that accompanied the words, and the gayparty of nine, strolling toward the orchard, hummed it all the way.

  There in the shade of the big apple-trees, where the clover grew inthick patches, they began their search; all together at first, then inlittle groups of twos and threes, until they had hunted over the entireorchard. Stuart, who had been doing more talking than hunting, went togroping industriously around on his hands and knees, when they all cametogether again after an hour's search.

  "Bradford," he said, emphatically, "I am beginning to think that you andMiss Joyce are right, and that Paradise has a monopoly on the four-leafkind. I haven't caught a glimpse of one. Not even its shadow."

  Lloyd held up a handful. "I found them in several places, thick ashops."

  "Which goes to show," he insisted, "that the song, 'If you work, if youwait, you will find the place,' is all a delusion and a snare. You allhave worked, and Eugenia and I have waited, and only you, who are 'bawnlucky,' have found any. It's pure luck."

  "No," interrupted Miles Bradford, "you can't call strolling around ashady orchard with a pretty girl work, and the song does correspond withthe legend. Abdallah worked hard for his first leaf, dug a well withwhich to bless the thirsty desert for all time. The bit of copper was atthe bottom of it. The effort he made for the second almost cost him hislife. He rescued a poor slave girl in order to be faithful to a trustimposed in him, and taught her the truths of Allah. The silver leaf washis reward. He found it in the heathen fetish which she gave him in hergratitude. It had been her god.

  "I am not sure about the golden leaf, but I think it was the reward ofliving a wise and honorable life. The day of his birth it was said thathe alone wept, while all around him rejoiced; and he resolved to live sowell that at the day of his death he should have no cause for tears, andall around him should mourn. No, I'll not have you belittling my hero,Tremont. There was no luck about it whatsoever. He won the first threeleaves by unselfish service, faithfulness to every trust, and wise,honorable living, so that he well deserved that Paradise should bringhim perfect happiness."

  "Girls!" cried Betty, her face lighting up, "_we_ must be warm on thetrail, with our Tusitala rings, our Warwick Hall motto, and our Order ofHildegarde. A Road of the Loving Heart is as hard to dig in every one'smemory as a well in the desert. If we keep the tryst in all things,we're bound to find the silver leaf, and think of the wisdom it takesto weave with the honor of a Hildegarde!"

  Eugenia interrupted her: "Oh, Betty, _please_ write a legend of theshamrock for girls that will fit modern times. In the old style thereare always three brothers or three maidens who start out to find athing, and only the last one or the youngest one is successful. Theothers all come to grief. In yours give _everybody_ a chance to behappy.

  "There is no reason why _every_ maiden shouldn't find the leavesaccording to the Tusitala rings and Ederyn's motto and Hildegarde'syardstick. And then, don't you see, they needn't wait till the end oftheir lives for the diamond, for _the prince_ will bring it! Don't yousee? It is his coming that _makes_ the perfect happiness!"

  Phil laughed. "Stuart's face shows how he appreciates that compliment,"he said, "and as for me and all the other sons of Adam, oh, fair layde,I make my bow!" Springing to his feet, he swept her an elaboratecurtsey, holding out his coat as if it were the ball-gown of somestately dame in a minuet.

  Lloyd, sitting on the grass with her hands clasped on her knees, lookedaround the circle of smiling faces, and then gave her shoulders awhimsical shrug.

  "That's all right if the prince _comes_," she exclaimed. "But how is oneto get the diamond leaf if he doesn't? Mammy Eastah told my fortune in ateacup, and she said: 'I see a risin' sun, and a row of lovahs, but Idon't see you a-takin' any of 'em, honey. Yo' ways am ways ofpleasantness, and all yo' paths is peace, but I'se powahful skeeredyou'se goin' to be an ole maid. I sholy is, if the teacup signs p'intright.'"

  "It will be your own fault, then," answered Phil. "The row of lovers isthere in the teacup for you. You've only to take your pick."

  "But," began Rob, "maybe it is just as well that she shouldn't chooseany of them. The prince's coming doesn't always bring happiness. Look atold Mr. Deckly. For thirty years he and his fair bride have led aregular cat and dog life. And there are the Twicketts and the Graysonsand the Blackstones right in this one little valley, to say nothing ofall the troubles one reads of in the papers."

  "No!" contradicted Eugenia, emphatically. "You have no right to holdthem up as examples. It is plainly to be seen that Mrs. Deckly and Mrs.Twickett and Mrs. Grayson and Mrs. Blackstone were not Hildegardes. Theyfailed to earn their third leaf by doing their weaving wisely. Theydidn't use their yardsticks. They looked only at the 'village churls,'and wove their webs to fit their unworthy shoulders, so that the menthey married were not princes, and they couldn't bring the diamondleaf."

  "The name of the prince need not always be _Man_, need it?" venturedJoyce. "Couldn't it be Success? It seems to me that if I had struggledalong for years, trying to make the most of my little ability, hadworked just as faithfully and wisely at my art as I could, it would beperfect happiness to have the world award me the place of a greatartist. It would be as much to me as the diamond leaf that marriagecould bring. I should think you'd feel that way, too, Betty, about yourwriting. There are marriages that are failures just as there areartistic and literary careers that are failures, and there are diamondleaves to reward the work and waiting of old maids, just as there arediamond leaves to reward the Hildegardes who use their yardsticks.Sometimes there are girls who don't marry because they sacrifice theirlives to taking care of their families, or living for those who aredependent on them. Surely there must be a blessedness and a happinessfor them greater than any diamond leaf a prince could bring."

  "There is probably," answered Eugenia, "but it seems as if most peopleof that kind have to wait till they get to Paradise to find it."

  "I don't think so," said Betty. "I believe all the dear old-maid auntsand daughters, _who earn the first three leaves_, find the fourthwaiting somewhere in this world. It is only the selfish ones, who slighttheir share of the duties life imposes on every one, who are cross andunlovely and unloved. They probably would not have been happy wives ifthey had married."

  "Well, but what about _me_!" persisted Lloyd. "I nevah expect to have acareer, so Success in big lettahs will nevah bring me a medal or achromo. I am not sacrificing my life for anybody's comfort, and I cannevah have any little nieces and nephews to whom I can be one of thosedeah old aunts Betty talks about, and there is that dreadful teacup!"

  She did not hear Doctor Bradford's laughing answer, for Phil, turninghis back on the others, looked down into her upturned face and began tohum, as if to himself, "_From the desert I come to thee!_" Only Maryunderstood the significance of it as Lloyd did, and she knew why Lloydsuddenly turned away and began passing her hands over the grass aroundher, as if resuming her search. She wanted to hide her face, into whichthe color was creeping.

  A train whistled somewhere far across the orchard, and Rob took out hiswatch. The sight of it suggested something in line with theconversation, for when he had noted the time, he touched the spring thatopened the back of the case.

  "Never you mind, Little Colonel," he said, in a patronizing,big-brotherly tone. "If nobody else will stand between you and thatteacup, _I'll_ come to the rescue. Bobby won't go back on his old chum._I'll_ bring you a four-leaf clover. Here's one, all ready and waiting." />
  Lloyd looked across at the watch he held out to her. "Law, Bobby," sheexclaimed, giving him the old name she had called him when they firstplayed together, "I supposed you had lost that clovah long ago."

  "Not much," he answered. "It's the finest hoodoo ever was. It helped methrough high school. I swear I never could have passed in Latin but foryour good-luck charm. It's certainly to my interest to hang on to it.

  "Think of it, Mary," he added, seeing that her eyes were round withinterest, "that was given to me by a princess."

  Mary darted a quick look at Lloyd and another one at him to see if hewere teasing.

  "Oh, I _see_!" she remarked, in a tone of enlightenment.

  "What do you see?" he demanded, laughing.

  She would not answer, but, ignoring his further attempts to make hertalk, she, too, turned again to search for clovers, inwardly excitedover the discovery she thought she had made. She would make a note of itin her journal, she decided, something like this: "The plot thickens.The B. M. and Sir F. have a rival they little suspect. R. carries thecharm the M. of H. gave him in years gone by, and I can see many reasonswhy he should be the one to bring her the diamond leaf."

  Only two dozen clovers rewarded their united search, but Eugenia wassatisfied. "We'll put them in the boxes haphazard," she said, "and theuncertainty of getting one will make it more exciting than if there wereone for every box."

  The path back to the house led past the kitchen, where several coloredwomen were helping Aunt Cindy. Just as they passed, one of them put herhead out of the door to call to a group of children crowded around oneof the windows of the great house. They were watching the decorators atwork inside the drawing-room, hanging the gate of roses in the arch. Theyoungest one was perched on a barrel that had been dragged up for thatpurpose, so that his older brothers and sisters might be spared theweariness of holding him up to see. A narrow board laid across the topmade an uneasy and precarious perch for him. He was seated astride, withhis bare black legs dangling down inside the barrel.

  "You M'haley Gibbs," called the woman, "don't you let Ca'line Allisonlean agin that bo'd. It'll upset Sweety into the bar'l."

  Her warning came too late, for even as she called the slight board waspushed off its foundations by the weight of the roly-poly Ca'lineAllison, and the pickaninny went down into the barrel as suddenly as acandle is snuffed out by the wind.

  "You M'haley, I'll natcherly lay you out," shrieked the woman, hurryingup the path to the rescue. But M'haley, made agile by fifteen years ofconstant practice, dodged the cuffing as it was about to descend, andscuttled around the house to wait till Sweety stopped howling.

  "They are Sylvia Gibbs's children," said Lloyd, in answer to DoctorBradford's astonished comment at seeing so many little negroes in a row."They can scent a pahty five miles away, and they hang around likelittle black buzzahds waiting for scraps of the feast. I suppose theyfeel they have a right to be heah to-day, as Sylvia is helping in thekitchen. They're the same children, Eugenia," she added, "who were heahso much when I had my first house-pahty. M'haley is the one who broughtyou that awful, skinny, mottled chicken in a bandbox for you to 'takehome on the kyers fo' a pet,' she said."

  "So she is!" exclaimed Eugenia, as they passed around the corner of thehouse and caught sight of M'haley, who was peeping out to see if thestorm was over, and if it would be safe to return to the sightseeing atthe window. Her teeth and eyeballs were a-shine with pleasure whenEugenia passed on, after a pleasant greeting and some reference to thechicken. She felt it a great honor to be remembered by the bride, andthanked again, after all these years, for her parting gift. She gave alittle giggle when Lloyd came up, and said, with a coy self-consciousair that was extremely amusing to the Northern man, who had never metthis type of the race before, "I'se a maid of honah, too, Miss Lloyd."

  "You are!" was the surprised answer. "How does that happen?"

  "Mammy's gwine to git married agin, to Mistah Robinson, and she saysnobody has a bettah right than me to be maid of honah to her own ma'sweddin'. So that's how come she toted us all along to you-all's weddin',so that Sweety and Ca'line and the boys could learn how to act at herand Mistah Robinson's."

  "When is it to be?" inquired Lloyd.

  "To-morrow night. Mammy's done give her fish-fry and ice-cream festible,and she cleahed enough to pay the weddin' expenses. You-all's suah gwineto git an invite, Miss Lloyd."

  "It is sort of a benefit," Betty explained to Miles Bradford, as theywalked on. "Instead of giving a concert or a recital, the colored peoplehere give a fish-fry and festival whenever they are in need of money.They used to have them just to raise funds for the church, but now it isquite popular for individuals to give them when there is a funeral or awedding to be paid for. I am so glad you are going to stay over a fewdays. We can show you sights you've never dreamed of in the North."

  Eugenia, first to step into the hall, gave a cry of pleasure. Theflorist and his assistants had been there in their absence, and werejust leaving. They had turned the entire house into a rose-garden. Hall,drawing-room, and library, and the dining-room beyond were filled withsuch lavishness that it seemed as if June herself had taken possession,with all her court. Stuart and Eugenia paused before the tall gate ofsmilax and American beauties.

  "It is the Gate into Paradise, sweetheart," he whispered, lookingthrough its blossom-covered bars to the altar beyond, that had beenbuilt in the bay-window of the drawing-room, and covered with whiteroses.

  "Yes," answered Eugenia, smiling up at him. "The legend is right. Wemust enter Paradise to find the diamond leaf. But I was right, too. Itis my prince who will bring mine to me."