Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm

by Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin

  XXII

  CLOVER BLOSSOMS AND SUNFLOWERS

  "How d' ye do, girls?" said Huldah Meserve, peeping in at the door."Can you stop studying a minute and show me your room? Say, I've justbeen down to the store and bought me these gloves, for I was bound Iwouldn't wear mittens this winter; they're simply too countrified. It'syour first year here, and you're younger than I am, so I s'pose youdon't mind, but I simply suffer if I don't keep up some kind of style.Say, your room is simply too cute for words! I don't believe any of theothers can begin to compare with it! I don't know what gives it thatsimply gorgeous look, whether it's the full curtains, or that elegantscreen, or Rebecca's lamp; but you certainly do have a faculty forfixing up. I like a pretty room too, but I never have a minute toattend to mine; I'm always so busy on my clothes that half the time Idon't get my bed made up till noon; and after all, having no callersbut the girls, it don't make much difference. When I graduate, I'mgoing to fix up our parlor at home so it'll be simply regal. I'velearned decalcomania, and after I take up lustre painting I shall haveit simply stiff with drapes and tidies and placques and sofa pillows,and make mother let me have a fire, and receive my friends thereevenings. May I dry my feet at your register? I can't bear to wearrubbers unless the mud or the slush is simply knee-deep, they make yourfeet look so awfully big. I had such a fuss getting this pair ofFrench-heeled boots that I don't intend to spoil the looks of them withrubbers any oftener than I can help. I believe boys notice feet quickerthan anything. Elmer Webster stepped on one of mine yesterday when Iaccidentally had it out in the aisle, and when he apologized afterclass, he said he wasn't so much to blame, for the foot was so littlehe really couldn't see it! Isn't he perfectly great? Of course that'sonly his way of talking, for after all I only wear a number two, butthese French heels and pointed toes do certainly make your foot looksmaller, and it's always said a high instep helps, too. I used to thinkmine was almost a deformity, but they say it's a great beauty. Just putyour feet beside mine, girls, and look at the difference; not that Icare much, but just for fun."

  "My feet are very comfortable where they are," responded Rebecca dryly."I can't stop to measure insteps on algebra days; I've noticed yourhabit of keeping a foot in the aisle ever since you had those newshoes, so I don't wonder it was stepped on."

  "Perhaps I am a little mite conscious of them, because they're not sovery comfortable at first, till you get them broken in. Say, haven'tyou got a lot of new things?"

  "Our Christmas presents, you mean," said Emma Jane. "The pillow-casesare from Mrs. Cobb, the rug from cousin Mary in North Riverboro, thescrap-basket from Living and Dick. We gave each other the bureau andcushion covers, and the screen is mine from Mr. Ladd."

  "Well, you were lucky when you met him! Gracious! I wish I could meetsomebody like that. The way he keeps it up, too! It just hides yourbed, doesn't it, and I always say that a bed takes the style off anyroom--specially when it's not made up; though you have an alcove, andit's the only one in the whole building. I don't see how you managed toget this good room when you're such new scholars," she finisheddiscontentedly.

  "We shouldn't have, except that Ruth Berry had to go away suddenly onaccount of her father's death. This room was empty, and Miss Maxwellasked if we might have it," returned Emma Jane.

  "The great and only Max is more stiff and standoffish than ever thisyear," said Huldah. "I've simply given up trying to please her, forthere's no justice in her; she is good to her favorites, but shedoesn't pay the least attention to anybody else, except to makesarcastic speeches about things that are none of her business. I wantedto tell her yesterday it was her place to teach me Latin, not manners."

  "I wish you wouldn't talk against Miss Maxwell to me," said Rebeccahotly. "You know how I feel."

  "I know; but I can't understand how you can abide her."

  "I not only abide, I love her!" exclaimed Rebecca. "I wouldn't let thesun shine too hot on her, or the wind blow too cold. I'd like to put amarble platform in her class-room and have her sit in a velvet chairbehind a golden table!"

  "Well, don't have a fit!--because she can sit where she likes for allof me; I've got something better to think of," and Huldah tossed herhead.

  "Isn't this your study hour?" asked Emma Jane, to stop possiblediscussion.

  "Yes, but I lost my Latin grammar yesterday; I left it in the hall halfan hour while I was having a regular scene with Herbert Dunn. I haven'tspoken to him for a week and gave him back his class pin. He was simplyfurious. Then when I came back to the hall, the book was gone. I had togo down town for my gloves and to the principal's office to see if thegrammar had been handed in, and that's the reason I'm so fine."

  Huldah was wearing a woolen dress that had once been gray, but had beendyed a brilliant blue. She had added three rows of white braid andlarge white pearl buttons to her gray jacket, in order to make it alittle more "dressy." Her gray felt hat had a white feather on it, anda white tissue veil with large black dots made her delicate skin lookbrilliant. Rebecca thought how lovely the knot of red hair looked underthe hat behind, and how the color of the front had been dulled byincessant frizzing with curling irons. Her open jacket disclosed agalaxy of souvenirs pinned to the background of bright blue,--a smallAmerican flag, a button of the Wareham Rowing Club, and one or twosociety pins. These decorations proved her popularity in very much thesame way as do the cotillion favors hanging on the bedroom walls of thefashionable belle. She had been pinning and unpinning, arranging anddisarranging her veil ever since she entered the room, in the hope thatthe girls would ask her whose ring she was wearing this week; butalthough both had noticed the new ornament instantly, wild horses couldnot have drawn the question from them; her desire to be asked was tooobvious. With her gay plumage, her "nods and becks and wreathedsmiles," and her cheerful cackle, Huldah closely resembled the parrotin Wordsworth's poem:--

  "Arch, volatile, a sportive bird, By social glee inspired; Ambitious to be seen or heard, And pleased to be admired!"

  "Mr. Morrison thinks the grammar will be returned, and lent meanother," Huldah continued.

  "He was rather snippy about my leaving a book in the hall. There was aperfectly elegant gentleman in the office, a stranger to me. I wish hewas a new teacher, but there's no such luck. He was too young to be thefather of any of the girls, and too old to be a brother, but he washandsome as a picture and had on an awful stylish suit of clothes. Helooked at me about every minute I was in the room. It made me soembarrassed I couldn't hardly answer Mr. Morrison's questions straight."

  "You'll have to wear a mask pretty soon, if you're going to have anycomfort, Huldah," said Rebecca. "Did he offer to lend you his classpin, or has it been so long since he graduated that he's left offwearing it? And tell us now whether the principal asked for a lock ofyour hair to put in his watch?"

  This was all said merrily and laughingly, but there were times whenHuldah could scarcely make up her mind whether Rebecca was trying to bewitty, or whether she was jealous; but she generally decided it wasmerely the latter feeling, rather natural in a girl who had littleattention.

  "He wore no jewelry but a cameo scarf pin and a perfectly gorgeousring,--a queer kind of one that wound round and round his finger. Ohdear, I must run! Where has the hour gone? There's the study bell!"

  Rebecca had pricked up her ears at Huldah's speech. She remembered acertain strange ring, and it belonged to the only person in the world(save Miss Maxwell) who appealed to her imagination,--Mr. Aladdin. Herfeeling for him, and that of Emma Jane, was a mixture of romantic andreverent admiration for the man himself and the liveliest gratitude forhis beautiful gifts. Since they first met him not a Christmas had goneby without some remembrance for them both; remembrances chosen with therarest taste and forethought. Emma Jane had seen him only twice, but hehad called several times at the brick house, and Rebecca had learned toknow him better. It was she, too, who always wrote the notes ofacknowledgment and thanks, taking infinite pains to make Emma Jane'squite different from her own.
Sometimes he had written from Boston andasked her the news of Riverboro, and she had sent him pages of quaintand childlike gossip, interspersed, on two occasions, with poetry,which he read and reread with infinite relish. If Huldah's strangershould be Mr. Aladdin, would he come to see her, and could she and EmmaJane show him their beautiful room with so many of his gifts inevidence?

  When the girls had established themselves in Wareham as real boardingpupils, it seemed to them existence was as full of joy as it well couldhold. This first winter was, in fact, the most tranquilly happy ofRebecca's school life,--a winter long to be looked back upon. She andEmma Jane were room-mates, and had put their modest possessionstogether to make their surroundings pretty and homelike. The room had,to begin with, a cheerful red ingrain carpet and a set of maplefurniture. As to the rest, Rebecca had furnished the ideas and EmmaJane the materials and labor, a method of dividing responsibilitiesthat seemed to suit the circumstances admirably. Mrs. Perkins's fatherhad been a storekeeper, and on his death had left the goods of which hewas possessed to his married daughter. The molasses, vinegar, andkerosene had lasted the family for five years, and the Perkins atticwas still a treasure-house of ginghams, cottons, and "Yankee notions."So at Rebecca's instigation Mrs. Perkins had made full curtains andlambrequins of unbleached muslin, which she had trimmed and looped backwith bands of Turkey red cotton. There were two table covers to match,and each of the girls had her study corner. Rebecca, after muchcoaxing, had been allowed to bring over her precious lamp, which wouldhave given a luxurious air to any apartment, and when Mr. Aladdin'slast Christmas presents were added,--the Japanese screen for Emma Janeand the little shelf of English Poets for Rebecca,--they declared thatit was all quite as much fun as being married and going to housekeeping.

  The day of Huldah's call was Friday, and on Fridays from three to halfpast four Rebecca was free to take a pleasure to which she lookedforward the entire week. She always ran down the snowy path through thepine woods at the back of the seminary, and coming out on a quietvillage street, went directly to the large white house where MissMaxwell lived. The maid-of-all-work answered her knock; she took offher hat and cape and hung them in the hall, put her rubber shoes andumbrella carefully in the corner, and then opened the door of paradise.Miss Maxwell's sitting-room was lined on two sides with bookshelves,and Rebecca was allowed to sit before the fire and browse among thebooks to her heart's delight for an hour or more. Then Miss Maxwellwould come back from her class, and there would be a precious half hourof chat before Rebecca had to meet Emma Jane at the station and takethe train for Riverboro, where her Saturdays and Sundays were spent,and where she was washed, ironed, mended, and examined, approved andreproved, warned and advised in quite sufficient quantity to last herthe succeeding week.

  On this Friday she buried her face in the blooming geraniums on MissMaxwell's plant-stand, selected Romola from one of the bookcases, andsank into a seat by the window with a sigh of infinite content, Sheglanced at the clock now and then, remembering the day on which she hadbeen so immersed in David Copperfield that the Riverboro train had noplace in her mind. The distracted Emma Jane had refused to leavewithout her, and had run from the station to look for her at MissMaxwell's. There was but one later train, and that went only to a placethree miles the other side of Riverboro, so that the two girls appearedat their respective homes long after dark, having had a weary walk inthe snow.

  When she had read for half an hour she glanced out of the window andsaw two figures issuing from the path through the woods. The knot ofbright hair and the coquettish hat could belong to but one person; andher companion, as the couple approached, proved to be none other thanMr. Aladdin. Huldah was lifting her skirts daintily and picking safestepping-places for the high-heeled shoes, her cheeks glowing, her eyessparkling under the black and white veil.

  Rebecca slipped from her post by the window to the rug before thebright fire and leaned her head on the seat of the great easy-chair.She was frightened at the storm in her heart; at the suddenness withwhich it had come on, as well as at the strangeness of an entirely newsensation. She felt all at once as if she could not bear to give up hershare of Mr. Aladdin's friendship to Huldah: Huldah so bright, saucy,and pretty; so gay and ready, and such good company! She had alwaysjoyfully admitted Emma Jane into the precious partnership, but perhapsunconsciously to herself she had realized that Emma Jane had never heldanything but a secondary place in Mr. Aladdin's regard; yet who was sheherself, after all, that she could hope to be first?

  Suddenly the door opened softly and somebody looked in, somebody whosaid: "Miss Maxwell told me I should find Miss Rebecca Randall here."

  Rebecca started at the sound and sprang to her feet, saying joyfully,"Mr. Aladdin! Oh! I knew you were in Wareham, and I was afraid youwouldn't have time to come and see us."

  "Who is 'us'? The aunts are not here, are they? Oh, you mean the richblacksmith's daughter, whose name I can never remember. Is she here?"

  "Yes, and my room-mate," answered Rebecca, who thought her own knell ofdoom had sounded, if he had forgotten Emma Jane's name.

  The light in the room grew softer, the fire crackled cheerily, and theytalked of many things, until the old sweet sense of friendliness andfamiliarity crept back into Rebecca's heart. Adam had not seen her forseveral months, and there was much to be learned about school mattersas viewed from her own standpoint; he had already inquired concerningher progress from Mr. Morrison.

  "Well, little Miss Rebecca," he said, rousing himself at length, "Imust be thinking of my drive to Portland. There is a meeting of railwaydirectors there to-morrow, and I always take this opportunity ofvisiting the school and giving my valuable advice concerning itsaffairs, educational and financial."

  "It seems funny for you to be a school trustee," said Rebeccacontemplatively. "I can't seem to make it fit."

  "You are a remarkably wise young person and I quite agree with you," heanswered; "the fact is," he added soberly, "I accepted the trusteeshipin memory of my poor little mother, whose last happy years were spenthere."

  "That was a long time ago!"

  "Let me see, I am thirty-two; only thirty-two, despite an occasionalgray hair. My mother was married a month after she graduated, and shelived only until I was ten; yes, it is a long way back to my mother'stime here, though the school was fifteen or twenty years old then, Ibelieve. Would you like to see my mother, Miss Rebecca?"

  The girl took the leather case gently and opened it to find aninnocent, pink-and-white daisy of a face, so confiding, so sensitive,that it went straight to the heart. It made Rebecca feel old,experienced, and maternal. She longed on the instant to comfort andstrengthen such a tender young thing.

  "Oh, what a sweet, sweet, flowery face!" she whispered softly.

  "The flower had to bear all sorts of storms," said Adam gravely. "Thebitter weather of the world bent its slender stalk, bowed its head, anddragged it to the earth. I was only a child and could do nothing toprotect and nourish it, and there was no one else to stand between itand trouble. Now I have success and money and power, all that wouldhave kept her alive and happy, and it is too late. She died for lack oflove and care, nursing and cherishing, and I can never forget it. Allthat has come to me seems now and then so useless, since I cannot shareit with her!"

  This was a new Mr. Aladdin, and Rebecca's heart gave a throb ofsympathy and comprehension. This explained the tired look in his eyes,the look that peeped out now and then, under all his gay speech andlaughter.

  "I'm so glad I know," she said, "and so glad I could see her just asshe was when she tied that white muslin hat under her chin and saw heryellow curls and her sky-blue eyes in the glass. Mustn't she have beenhappy! I wish she could have been kept so, and had lived to see yougrow up strong and good. My mother is always sad and busy, but oncewhen she looked at John I heard her say, 'He makes up for everything.'That's what your mother would have thought about you if she had lived,and perhaps she does as it is."

  "You are a comforting little person, Rebecca
," said Adam, rising fromhis chair.

  As Rebecca rose, the tears still trembling on her lashes, he looked ather suddenly as with new vision.

  "Good-by!" he said, taking her slim brown hands in his, adding, as ifhe saw her for the first time, "Why, little Rose-Red-Snow-White ismaking way for a new girl! Burning the midnight oil and doing fouryears' work in three is supposed to dull the eye and blanch the cheek,yet Rebecca's eyes are bright and she has a rosy color! Her long braidsare looped one on the other so that they make a black letter U behind,and they are tied with grand bows at the top! She is so tall that shereaches almost to my shoulder. This will never do in the world! Howwill Mr. Aladdin get on without his comforting little friend! Hedoesn't like grown-up young ladies in long trains and wonderful fineclothes; they frighten and bore him!"

  "Oh, Mr. Aladdin!" cried Rebecca eagerly, taking his jest quiteseriously; "I am not fifteen yet, and it will be three years before I'ma young lady; please don't give me up until you have to!"

  "I won't; I promise you that," said Adam. "Rebecca," he continued,after a moment's pause, "who is that young girl with a lot of prettyred hair and very citified manners? She escorted me down the hill; doyou know whom I mean?"

  "It must be Huldah Meserve; she is from Riverboro."

  Adam put a finger under Rebecca's chin and looked into her eyes; eyesas soft, as clear, as unconscious, and childlike as they had been whenshe was ten. He remembered the other pair of challenging blue ones thathad darted coquettish glances through half-dropped lids, shot arrowybeams from under archly lifted brows, and said gravely, "Don't formyourself on her, Rebecca; clover blossoms that grow in the fieldsbeside Sunnybrook mustn't be tied in the same bouquet with gaudysunflowers; they are too sweet and fragrant and wholesome."