A LITTLE GIRL OF LONG AGO OR HANNAH ANN A SEQUEL TO A LITTLE GIRL IN OLD NEW YORK By AMANDA M. DOUGLAS A. L. BURT COMPANYPUBLISHERS NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1897, BYDODD, MEAD & COMPANY _All rights reserved_ TO EDNA ESTELLE CORNER. THE LITTLE GIRLS OF LONG AGO ARE GROWING OLD WITH THE CENTURY, BUT GIRLHOOD BLOSSOMS AFRESH WITH SPRING AND REMAINS FOREVER A JOY. A. M. D. NEWARK, 1897. CONTENTS I. 1846 II. AN INTERVIEW WITH A TIGER III. CHANCES AND CHANGES IV. A WEDDING V. WINTER HAPPENINGS VI. THE LAND OF OPHIR VII. THROUGH THE EYES OF YOUTH VIII. GOING VISITING IX. ANNABEL LEE X. WITH A POET XI. THE KING OF TERRORS XII. UP-TOWN XIII. OUT-OF-THE-WAY CORNERS XIV. AMONG GREAT THINGS XV. THE BEGINNINGS OF ROMANCE XVI. COUNTING UP THE COST XVII. A GLAD SURPRISE XVIII. THE LITTLE GIRL GROWN UP XIX. THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE XX. MISS NAN UNDERHILL XXI. THE OLD, OLD STORY, EVER NEW XXII. 1897 HANNAH ANN CHAPTER I 1846 New Year's came in with a ringing of bells and firing of pistols. Fouryears more, and the world would reach the half-century mark. That seemedvery ancient to the little girl in Old New York. They talked about it atthe breakfast-table. "Do you suppose any one could live to see nineteen hundred?" asked thelittle girl, with wondering eyes. Father Underhill laughed. "Count up and see how old you would be, Hanny, " he replied. "Why, I should be--sixty-five. " "Not as old as either grandmother, " said John. "If the world doesn't come to an end, " suggested Hanny, cautiously. Sheremembered the fright she had when she was afraid it would come to anend. "It isn't half developed, " interposed Benny Frank. "And we haven't halfdiscovered it. What do we know about the heart of Africa or theinterior of China--" "The great Chinese wall will shut us out of that, " interrupted thelittle girl. "But it can't go all around China, for the missionaries getin, and some Chinese get out, like the two little girls. " "There is some outside to China, " laughed Benny Frank. "And India is awonderful country. There is all of Siberia, too, and British America, and, beyond the Rocky Mountains, a great country belonging to us that weknow very little about. I believe the world is going to stand longenough for us to learn all about it. Some day I hope to go around a goodbit and see for myself. " "Some people, " began Mrs. Underhill, "reason that, as it was twothousand years from the Creation to the Deluge, and two thousand yearsmore to the birth of Christ, that the next two thousand will see the endof the world. " "They are beginning to think the world more than four or five thousandyears old, " said Benny Frank. He had quite a taste for science. "It'll last my time out, I guess, " and there was a shrewd twinkle inFather Underhill's eye. "And I think there'll be a big piece left forHanny. " The little girl of eleven mused over it. She had a great many things tothink about, and her mother suggested presently that there were somethings to do. Margaret went upstairs to straighten the parlor andarrange a table in the end of the back room for callers. Hanny foundplenty of work, but her small brain kept in a curious confusion, as ifit was running back and forth from the past to the future. Events werehappening so rapidly. And the whole world seemed changed since herbrother Stephen's little boy had been born on Christmas morning. It was curious, too, to grow older, and to understand books and lessonsso much better, to feel interested in daily events. There was a newrevolution in Mexico; there was a talk of war. But everything went onhappily at home. New York was stretching out like a big boy, showingrents and patches in his attire, but up-town he was getting into a newsuit, and people exclaimed about the extravagance. As for Stephen's baby, there wasn't any word in Webster's Dictionary todo him justice. He grew fat and fair, his nose became shapely, hisdimple was deeper, his chin double, and his pretty hands began to graspat everything. Stephen said the only drawback was that his hair would bered. Hanny felt curiously teased about it. She couldn't be sure that itwas quite a subject for prayer; but she took great comfort in two linesof the old hymn-- "Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed, " and she hoped God would listen to the sincere desire of her heart. Early in February the children were all excitement about Mr. Bradbury'sconcert. The Dean children were among the chorus singers, and CharlesReed had a prominent part. Would his mother let him go?--the childrenall wondered. "Mr. Reed can manage it, " said Josie Dean, confidently. "Wives have tomind their husbands about boys, because the men know best, and the boysare to grow up into men. " Hanny's interest was divided by Margaret being made ready for theValentine ball. Everybody was to go in a fancy dress. Dr. Hoffman choseMargaret's, which was to be a lady of 1790. Miss Cynthia came and lookedover the old green-and-white brocade that had descended from Miss Lois. It had a low square neck, and a bodice with deep points back and front, laced with a silver cord. The front breadth, "petticoat, " as it wascalled, was white satin, creamy now with age, embroidered with pink andyellow roses and mossy green leaves. The brocade fell away in a longtrain, and at the joining was a cascade of fine old lace called Mechlin. The elbow-sleeves were edged with it, and at the neck, the lace had afine wire run through it at the back that made it stand up, while infront, it fell to a pretty point, and was clasped with a brooch. It hadbeen made for Miss Lois' wedding outfit when she was a happy young girl, dreaming over a joyous future that had never come to pass. But Margaret's hair they all thought the crowning glory. Miss Cynthiawas very fond of adorning people for parties, and so deft that she wasin frequent demand. She had brought a great high comb of beautiful, clear shell that had belonged to her mother. There was a loose twistmade like the figure eight at the back, and in front, rows of daintypuffs and ends of curls, that dropped down on her white forehead. The brooch, too, was curious. It was a portrait painted on ivory of theMarquis de Lafayette, and set round with beautiful pearls, one of MissCynthia's precious belongings also. When Margaret looked at herself in her mother's tall glass, she was somystified that she felt for a moment as if she was Miss Lois come back. For when the gown fitted her, she must have been tall and slim andyoung. Hanny had begged to ask in all the girls, and was delighted to haveDaisy Jasper and her mother. But when Dr. Hoffman came in Continental costume, with buffsmall-clothes and black velvet coat, great buckles of brilliants at hisknees and lace ruffles at his wrists and shirt front, and his hairpowdered, they all exclaimed. He carried his three-cornered hat underhis arm as he bowed to the ladies. John Underhill declared laughingly that he felt honoured by being thefootman to such a grand couple, as he helped them into the carriage. "Why don't people dress as beautifully now?" said Daisy Jasper, with asigh. "Everything looks so plain. " Then the elders began to talk of past fashions. Miss Cynthia said hermother's wedding gown was made with a full straight skirt six yardsaround, and had one little hoop at the hips to hold it out. When MissCynthia's elder sisters were grown, she cut it up and made them each afrock, with skirts two and a quarter yards wide, short full waists, andpuffed sleeves. Big poke bonnets were worn with great bunches of flowersinside, and an immense bow at the top, where the strings were reallytied. If you wanted to be very coquettish, you had the bow rather on oneside. The skirts barely reached the ankles, and black satin slipperswere to be worn on fine occasions; white or sometimes pale colours toparties. "And now we have come back to wide full skirts, " said Miss Cynthia. "We're putting stiffening in to hold them out. And there's talk ofhoops. " Another odd custom was coming into vogue. It was considered much moregenteel to say "dress. " Frock had a sort of common country sound, because the farmers wore tow frocks at their work. The little girl hadbeen laughed at for saying it, and she was trying very hard to alwayscall the garment a "dress. " Gown was considered rather reprehensible, asit savoured of old ladies' bed-gowns. Now we have gone back to frocksand gowns. "The Continental fashions were extremely picturesque, " said Mrs. Jasper. "And the men were strong and earnest, and equal to the emergencies ofthe day, if they did indulge in adornments considered rather femininenow. But I like the variety. The newly-arrived emigrants in theirnative garb interest me. " "There are some around in Houston Street, " laughed Ben. "Dutch girlswith flaxen hair and little caps, and those queer waists with shoulderstraps, and thick woollen stockings. Some of them wear wooden shoes. AndIrish women with great plaid cloaks and little shawls tied over theirheads, short skirts and nailed shoes that clatter on the sidewalk. " "I should like to see them, " said Daisy. "Joe ought to take you out on St. Patrick's day, " returned Ben. "Butthey soon reach the dead level of uniformity. " "Fancy an Indian in coat and trousers instead of blanket, war-paint, andfeathers, " and Jim laughed at the idea. "I think we shall hardly be able to reduce him to modern costumes. Hedoes not take kindly to civilisation. " "He's shamefully treated anyway. " "Oh, Jim, it won't do to take your noble red men from romance. Theheroes of King Philip's time have vanished. " Jim was reading Cooper, and had large faith in the children of theforest. The next generation of school-boys called them "sneaking reddogs, " and planned to go out on the plains and shoot them. "If we absorb all these people, we shall be a curiously conglomeratenation by and by, " exclaimed Mrs. Jasper. "As we were in the beginning, " returned Father Underhill. "We startedfrom most of the nations of Europe. We have had a French state, Dutchand German, English and Scotch, but the one language seems a greatleveler. " The little girls talked about the concert. Doctor Joe said he thoughtDaisy might venture. She was beginning to grow quite courageous, thoughthe comments on her lameness always brought a flush to her cheek. Sometimes he stopped at school for both girls, and the wheeling-chairwent home empty. His strong, tender arm was help enough. Mr. Reed had quite a battle to win the day for his son. "Thesinging-school was foolishness and a waste of time; and there was not amoment to waste in this world, when you had to give a strict account ofit in the next. " Mrs. Reed had never considered whether so much scouringand scrubbing was not a waste of time, when everything was as clean as apin. When a very polite note from Mr. Bradbury reached Mr. Reed, beggingthat Charles might be allowed to take a prominent part in the concert, there was war, a more dreadful time than going to the barber had caused. "Charles"--she occasionally left off the John Robert--"was too big a boyfor such nonsense! It spoiled children to put them forward. He ought tobe thinking of his lessons and forming his character, instead ofspending his time over silly songs. And to sing on a public stage!" "Some of the best families are to let their children participate in it. I don't think it will hurt them, " her husband said decisively. Then she actually sobbed. "You will ruin that child, after all the trouble I've taken. I've workedand slaved from morning till night, made him get his lessons and becareful of his clothes, and kept him out of bad company; and now I'mnot allowed to say a word, but just stand by while you let him go toruin. The next thing we'll have him in a nigger minstrel band, orplaying on a fiddle!" "I've known some very worthy men who played on a fiddle. And all thechildren growing up can't be minstrels, so perhaps our boy will becompelled to find some other employment. I am going to have him likeother boys; and if it can't be so at home, I'll send him away toschool. " That was a terrible threat. To be gone months at a time, with no one tolook after his clothes! Mrs. Reed went about the house sighing, and scrubbed harder than ever. She made Charles feel as if he brought in dirt by the bushel, andscattered it about in pure spite. She even refused his help in clearingaway the dishes; and she tried to make him wear his second-best clothesthat eventful evening. Oh, what an evening it was! The hall was crowded. The stage was full ofchildren, one tier of seats rising above another. The girls were dressedin white, and most of them had their hair curled. The boys had a whiteribbon tied in the buttonhole of their jackets. How eager and prettythey looked! Hanny thought of the day at Castle Garden when theSunday-schools had walked. It was a simple cantata, but a great success. Charles Reed sangcharmingly. His father had said, "Don't get frightened, my boy, and doyour very best;" and he was just as desirous of pleasing his father asany one, even Mr. Bradbury. Daisy Jasper could have listened all night, entranced. Tall Doctor Joesat beside her, easing her position now and then, while Hanny smiled andmade joyful comments of approval in so soft a tone they disturbed noone. "I've never been so happy in all my life, " Daisy Jasper said to DoctorJoe. "It seems as if I could never feel miserable again. There are somany splendid things in the world that I am glad to live and be amongthem, if I can't ever be quite straight and strong. " "My dear child!" Doctor Joe's eyes said the rest. They waited for the crowd to get out. Charles came down the aisle withhis father and Mr. Bradbury, and Mr. Dean was escorting his littlegirls. They had a very delightful chat, and were charmed with the leaderof the children's concert. "Charles must take good care of his voice, " said Mr. Bradbury. "It maysometime prove a fortune to him. He is a fine boy, and any father mightwell be proud of him. " "I just wish mother had wanted to be there, " Charles said, as hisfather was opening the door with his latch-key. The light was turned lowin the hall, and Mrs. Reed had gone to bed, an unprecedented step withher. Hanny found that she couldn't spend all the Saturdays with littleStevie. She wished they were twice as long; but they always seemedshorter than any other day. Dolly came down now and then, and was justas bright and merry as ever. But old Mr. Beekman grew more feeble, and was confined to the house mostof the time. Hanny had to go down-town and visit him and Katschina. Hewas delighted to have her come, and Katschina purred her tenderestwelcome. She was like a bit of sunshine, with her cheerful smile and hersweet, merry wisdom. She told him about the school and Daisy, theirplays and songs; and they were never tired of talking about Stephen'sbaby. It could laugh aloud now; the reddish fuzz was falling out, andthe new soft hair shone like pale gold on his pink scalp. There were so many other friends, the Bounett cousins, and Dele Whitney, who was just as jolly as ever, with the old aunts down in Beach Street, and who declared the little girl was the sweetest thing in the world, and that some day she should just steal her, and carry her off tofairyland. CHAPTER II AN INTERVIEW WITH A TIGER There came to New York in May a menagerie. A chance like this roused thechildren to a pitch of the wildest enthusiasm. Wonderful posters wereput up. It was not considered a circus at all, but a moral andinstructive show, if it did not have delightful Artemas Ward toexpatiate upon it. There were a great many children who had never seenan elephant. Hanny Underhill had not. Jim said, "There was a live lion stuffed with straw; a zebra that hadfifty stripes from the tip of his nose to his tail, nary stripe alike; alaughing hyena of the desert, who could cry like a child when he washungry, and who devoured the people who came to his assistance, therebyshowing the total depravity of human nature; an elephant that coulddance; and monkeys who climbed the highest trees and swung in the gentlezephyrs by the tail. " The crowning point was that he had money enoughsaved up to go. The celebrated lion-tamer, a Mr. Van Amburgh, was to perform with sometrained animals. Oh, what a crowd there was!--most people going earlyso they could walk around and view the animals in their cages. Therewere two beautiful striped hyenas, lithe as cats, and so restless youwere almost afraid they would find some loose bar and spring out at you. The two lions roared tremendously when disturbed. A great cage full ofthe funniest chattering monkeys, ready for nuts or cake or bits ofapples, and who could swing with their heads downward and turnastonishing somersaults. Many other curious animals that we see nowadaysin Central Park; but, alas! there was no Park then, and such indulgenceshad to be paid for. The big elephant was very gentle, or in a gentle mood, which answeredthe same purpose. The keeper had to have eyes everywhere to see that theboys did not torment him. How he could take a peanut or a bit of candyin his trunk, and carry it up to his mouth without dropping it, puzzledHanny. For of course all the First Street children went. Mr. Underhilland Margaret and Mrs. Dean were to keep them safe and in order. It seemed so hard to leave Daisy Jasper out. But her father could notgo, and her mother was much too timid. "I'll be her knight, " said Doctor Joe. "I will take her up in the buggy, and we'll squeeze through the crowd. " That settled it. Seeing real live animals was so different from thestuffed and moth-eaten ones at Barnum's. There was a great tent and some temporary sheds, with one or twoside-shows. They went quite early, and Doctor Joe paid a man to standguard over some seats while they walked around and inspected the cages. There was a smaller trick elephant, but even Columbus was not as big asthe famous Jumbo. One of the great pleasures or curiosities was a ride on his back in ahowdah. This was ten cents extra, and only for children. Most of theboys had spent their money for refreshments at the booths, so they couldonly look longingly. The little girls were afraid at first. "I am going, " declared Charles Reed. "Oh, you will not be afraid!"--tothe Deans. "Don't you want to?" asked Mr. Underhill of his little girl. Hanny drew a long breath and her eyes dilated. The howdah filled up, andthe ponderous creature moved slowly down to the end of the space and upagain, amid childish exclamations and laughter. "Yes--I would like to go, " said Hanny, when she realised the safety ofthe proceeding. "Oh, Doctor Joe, couldn't you help me up? It would be such a wonderfulthing to ride on an elephant that I should be glad all my life. " Daisy Jasper looked so eager and pleading out of her beseeching blueeyes. So many pleasures must be foregone that he had not the heart todeny this. "Are you quite sure you will not be afraid up there?" he askedearnestly. "Oh, no, not with Hanny, dear Doctor Joe!" He looked at Hanny. The little girl could climb trees and walk out tothe ends of the limbs and jump; she had swung her arms and said one, two, three, and gone flying over the creek without falling in; she coulddo "vinegar" with a skipping rope; she could walk the edge of thecurb-stone without tilting over; she could swing ever so high and notwink; she wasn't afraid to go up stairs in the dark; but when theelephant took the first long, rocking step, she felt something as shehad when Luella Bounett had run downstairs with her in her arms. Shegrasped Daisy's hand on the one side and Charlie's arm on the other. "Oh, Hanny, you're not afraid?" "It's like being out at sea, " and Daisy laughed. But the back of the huge creature seemed up so high and his steps solong. Then she summoned all her courage, and resolved that she would notbe a "little 'fraid cat. " The keeper interspersed the rides with stories of elephants in Indiataking care of babies, fanning flies away from them, watching over sickmasters, and moving great timbers. Even if his eyes were small, he couldsee any danger. You could trust him when he was once your friend; but henever forgave an injury. The big india-rubber feet came down with scarcely a sound. He flappedhis ears lazily, he turned around without spilling them out, and marchedup the line as if it was just nothing at all. Daisy was thrilling with enjoyment. Her eyes shone and her cheeks werelike roses. She even put her hand on the elephant's crumply back, asthey came down the steps, and smiled in Doctor Joe's face, as he heldher by the arm. "You were so good to let me go. Thank you a thousand times. It was justsplendid!" They were all in a burst of enthusiasm with "ohs and ahs. " But Hanny wasvery glad to get back to her father's protecting hand. She felt as ifshe had been on a long and perilous journey. They took their seats, and after one more caravan the performancesbegan. The trick elephant did several odd things rather clumsily. Thenhe stood on his head, and the boys clapped their hands with delight. Hetrumpeted, and the very ground seemed to shake. Then he looked around ina queer sort of fashion, as if he was sure he had frightened everybody. But what would they have said to the later acrobatic feats and goingthrough the figures of a quadrille! Half-a-dozen elephants would havestartled any audience. Presently a big cage was uncovered, and Mr. Van Amburgh went into thelions' den. Everybody shuddered a little. Hanny thought of the story ofDaniel--perhaps other people did. He shook hands and rubbed shoulderswith them; and they put their paws on his shoulders and shook theirshaggy heads. Charles said they ought to have finer bodies for such magnificent heads. Then the lion-tamer told them to lie down. He made a bed of one and apillow of the other, and threw himself upon them, hugging them up. Hemade them open their mouths, and he thrust in his hand. They pranced upand down, sprang over the stick he held in his hand, jumped over him;and it really seemed as if they had a tender regard for him. But DoctorJoe observed that he always faced them, and kept his eyes steadily uponthem. The applause was tremendous. Then an incident occurred that was not down in the programme. A handsometiger walked out from between two of the cages as if he had a part toplay. He scanned the audience in a deliberate manner; he gave his lithebody a twist, and switched his tail in a graceful fashion, while hisyellow eyes illumined the space about him. The attention of the audiencewas concentrated upon him, while he appeared to be considering what todo next. Two keepers came out, while a man in the space between the cages shooksomething in his hand. The tiger turned and followed him, and the menwatched until a bar snapped. Then one of them faced the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, " he began, "I wish to announce that there is notthe slightest danger. The tiger is securely caged. The animals are underperfect control. " Two or three women screamed, and one fainted. Several hurried to theentrance; but the keeper begged them to be tranquil. There had not beenthe slightest danger. Doctor Joe motioned to his party to remain seated while he went toattend to the women. The performance was mostly over, and the audiencebegan to disperse, from a sense of insecurity. "Was he really loose?" asked Tudie Dean, in a little fright. "Of course he was, " replied Charles. "I'm not sure but it was donepurposely after all. " Doctor Joe returned, and they appealed to him. "Well, "--with a gay air, --"the tiger was quite obedient, wasn't he? Youwere not frightened, Daisy?" "But you stood right there, "--Doctor Joe had given his seat to a ladyjust as the performance began. "Why, he looked at you, " and Daisy'snerves gave a little quiver. "I supposed Mr. Van Amburgh would come and put him through some paces, "returned Joe. "It was immense, wasn't it?" exclaimed Jim. "But why did the womansqueal when it was all over?" Doctor Joe laughed. To make amends, a pretty trick pony came out, who really could dance, and he looked as if he laughed, too. He did a number of amusing things, and the audience stopped going out. Then the monkeys set up such ashrill chatter that the people began to laugh. The lion started to roar;and it seemed as if the tigers joined the chorus. For a few moments itwas a forest concert. "If only the hyena would laugh, " said Jim. The girls were a littlenervous. Joe had gone to get Prince. "Oh, you needn't be a mite afraid. Mr. Van Amburgh would just have thrown a cloth over his head; and in hissurprise they would have had him all right in a moment. I would not havemissed it for a dollar; though I wouldn't care to encounter him in hisnative wilds. " "He did look grand surveying the audience, " said Daisy. "I am so glad Icould come--for everything. " The Doctor put Hanny and Daisy in the buggy, as they were both so slim. Hanny hugged his arm, and said in a voice still a trifle shaky, -- "Weren't you the least bit frightened, Joe?" "Why, I never imagined there was any danger until it was over. I thinkso many people rather dazed Mr. Tiger. " "Oh, if anything had happened to you, what should I do?" asked Daisy, with lustrous eyes. "Nothing is going to happen to me. You have been a brave girl thisafternoon, and it is not the first time either. " Her cheek flushed with pleasure. It was a great thing to talk over, that and the ride on the elephant. Hanny found her natural history, and she and her father read aboutelephants most of the evening. The days were so pleasant that the children often took Daisy out in herchair to see them at their plays. They went around to Houston Street, tothe German settlement, as it was beginning to be called. Lena andGretchen were out on their stoop with their knitting, and the babybetween them. They were Lutherans, and they looked quite different fromthe Jews. There were still quaint old houses in Ludlow and Orchard streets, --twostories with dormer windows in the roof, and some frame cottages withstruggling grass-plots. No one dreamed of the tall tenements that wereto take their places, the sewing-machines that were to hum while theworkers earned their scanty pittance, and swarms of children crowded thestreets. Everybody had more leisure then. Some of the women sat and chatted whiletheir little ones played about. A little girl came out of an alley way with a peculiar jerky movement, like a hop and a skip, while she kept one hand on her knee. Her hip waslarge, her shoulder pushed up and apparently bent over. "Hello!" she said to Hanny. "What's the matter with her?" nodding herhead. "Wish't I had a cheer like that. I'd cut a great swell. My! ain'tshe pritty?" "She's been ill, " returned Hanny. The child stared a moment and then hopped on. "Her father works about the stable, " explained Hanny, with risingcolour. "She comes up sometimes. They're very poor. Mother gives themever so many things. She can't stand up straight; but she doesn't seemto mind. And one leg is so much shorter. The boys call her Cricket, andLimpy Dick. " "Oh, Hanny, if I were poor and like that!" The tears came in Daisy'seyes. "I can stand up straight, and I am getting to walk quite well. Ihave so much that is lovely and comforting; and oughtn't one be thankfulnot to be real poor?" The little lameter went hopping across the street, and called to somechildren "to look at the style!" Down by the corner there was a candy and notion store, kept by an oldwoman with a queer wrinkled face framed in with a wide cap-ruffle. Shehad a funny turned-up nose, as if it had hardly known which way to grow, and such round red-apple cheeks. When it was pleasant, she sat in thedoorway, regardless of the fate of the heroic young woman of Norway. "Good day!" she ejaculated. "The Lord bless ye. Yon's got a pretty face, an' I hope it will bring her good fortune. " She nodded, and hercap-ruffle flapped over her face. "If ye see that omadhawn of a Biddy Brady in yer travels, jist send herhome. The babby's screamin' himself into fits. Won't her mother give itto her whin she comes in!" Down below the next corner, there was a throng of children. One big boywas whistling a jig tune, and clapping on his knee. "That's old Mrs. McGiven, " explained Hanny. "The school-children gothere for cake and candy and slate pencils, because hers have such nicesharp points. And--Biddy Brady!" Jim was with the boys. He gave Hanny a nod and laughed and joined thewhistling. "Oh, Jim--Biddy's baby is crying--" "Come, start up again, Biddy. You haven't given us half a cent's worth!You don't dance as good as the little Jew girl on the next block. " "Arrah now--" "Go on wid yer dancin'. " Biddy was a thin, lanky girl with straight dark hair that hung in hereyes and over her shoulders. A faded checked pinafore, with just plainarm-holes, covered her nearly all up. To her spindle legs were attachedmismatched shoes, twice too large, tied around the ankles. One had aloose sole that flapped up and down. It really wasn't any dancing, forshe just kicked out one foot and then the other, with such vigor thatyou wondered she didn't go over backward. Her very earnestness renderedit irresistibly funny. She certainly danced by main strength. Hanny began again. "Jim, her baby is crying--" "He gets his living by crying. I've never heard of his doing anythingelse. " Biddy brought her foot down with an emphatic thump. "There now, not another step do yees get out o' me fur that cint. I'vegive ye good measure and fancy steps throwed in. An' me shoe is dancedoff me fut, an' me mammy'll lick me. See that now!" and she held up herflapping sole. They had to yield to necessity, for none of the crowd had another penny. When Biddy realised the fact, she ran off home and bought a stick ofcandy to solace herself and the baby. Mrs. Brady went out washing, andBiddy cared for the baby when she wasn't in the street. It must beadmitted the babies languished under her care. The school-children had a good deal of fun hiring her to dance. Biddywas shrewd enough about the pennies. Jim joined the cavalcade as the boys went their way. "Why, she likes the money, " he said in answer to an upbraiding remarkfrom Hanny. "That's what she does it for. " "It was very funny, " declared Daisy. "She's such a straight, slim childin that long narrow apron. If it hadn't been for the baby, I would havegiven her a penny. " They went on down the street. There were several fancy-goods stores andsome pretty black-eyed Jewish children with the curliest hairimaginable. There was the big school across the way, and a great lockfactory, then a row of comparatively nice dwellings. They turned intoAvenue A. , and were in a crowd of Germans. The children and babies allhad flaxen or yellow hair and roundish blue eyes. The mothers wereknitting and sewing and chattering in their queer language. Even thelittle girls were knitting lace and stockings. The boys seemed fat andpudgy. They stared at the chair and its inmate, but Sam went quietlyalong. Here were German costumes sure enough. They turned up Second Street, and so around First Avenue, home. "Why, it's like going to foreign countries, " Daisy said. "Some of thechildren were very pretty. But that Biddy Brady--I can see her yet. " The very next day Daisy drew two pictures, and held them before Hanny. "Why, that's Biddy Brady!" the little girl said, with a bright wonderinglaugh. "And that's old Mrs. McGiven! They're splendid! How could you doit?" "I don't know. It came to me. " Mrs. Craven said the old lady was excellent. And she laughed about BiddyBrady's dancing. Sometimes they went up to Tompkins' Square. They would study theirlessons or do a bit of crocheting. Daisy was learning a great manythings. Or they went a little farther up and over to the river, whichwas much wider at that time. The old farms had been cut up into blocks;but while they were waiting for some one to come along and build themup, the thrifty Germans had turned them into market gardens, and theypresented a very pretty appearance. They could see the small clusters of houses on Long Island, and the endof Blackwell's Island, --a terrible place to them. The boys had seen the"Black Maria, " which the little girl thought must be some formidablegiant negress capable of driving the criminals along as one would aflock of sheep, and she was quite surprised when she learned it was awagon merely. The East River was quite pretty up here, and theferry-boats made a line of foam that sparkled in the sun. Occasionally Doctor Joe joined the party, and took them in otherdirections. He had accepted the offer of an old physician on EastBroadway, which was then considered very aristocratic. The basementwindows had pretty lace curtains, and the dining-rooms had beaufets inthe corners, on which the glass and silver were arranged. The brassdoorknobs and the name-plate shone like gold, and the iron railings ofthe stoops were finished with quite pretentious newels, that thechildren called sentry boxes. Grand Street, at the eastern end, had many private dwellings. Ridge andPitt and Willet streets were quite steep and made splendid coastingplaces in winter. There was the Methodist church, in which many famousworthies had preached, and even at the end of the century the old placekeeps its brave and undaunted front. Strawberries did not come until June; and the girls took them round thestreets in tiny deep baskets. There were no such mammoth berries as wehave now; but, oh, how sweet and luscious they were! Little girlscarried baskets of radishes from door to door, and first you heard"strawbrees, " then something that sounded like "ask arishee, " which Isuppose was brief for "ask any radishes. " The fish and clam men were a great delight to the children. One curious, weather-beaten old fellow who went through First Street had quite amusical horn, and a regular song. "Fine clams, fine clams, fine clams, to-day, That have just arrived from Rockaway. They're good to boil, and they're good to fry, And they're good to make a clam pot-pie. My horse is hired, and my waggon isn't mine. Look out, little boys, don't cut behind!" Where the rhyme was lame, he made up with an extra flourish and trill tothe notes. The cats used to watch out for him. They seemed to know whenFriday came, and they would be sitting on the front stoops, dozing untilthey heard the welcome sound of the horn. There were huckster waggonswith vegetables, and a buttermilk man. An old coloured woman used to come round with brewer's yeast, and onemorning she had a great piece of black cambric twisted about her bonnet. "Who are you in mourning for, auntie?" asked Margaret. "My ol' man, Miss Margret. Happened so lucky! He jest died Sat'daynight, an' we buried him on Sunday, an' here I am goin' round onMonday, --not losin' any time. Happened so lucky!" Jim went into spasms of merriment over the economy of the incident. CHAPTER III CHANCES AND CHANGES The Whitneys had moved in May, to the great regret of everybody. Theirfamily had changed considerably through the winter. Archibald, theyounger son, was married, and Mr. Theodore had an opportunity to goabroad for a year. The widowed cousin in Beach Street was married and went to Baltimorewith her two children. That left the two old aunts who owned the housequite alone. Mrs. Whitney and Delia had taken turns staying with them. The children were all sorry to lose Nora and Pussy Gray. "People say it's bad luck to move a cat, " said Nora, in her sententiousfashion; "but we don't believe in it. We've moved him twice already. Andyou just put a little butter on his feet--" "Butter!" interrupted the children, amazed. "Why, yes. That's to make him wash his paws. If you can make him washand purr in a new place, he will stay. And then you must take him roundand show him every room and every closet. And you must come down realoften, Hanny. There's the lovely little park, you know. Aunt Boudinothas a key. They're such nice queer old ladies, you'll be sure to likethem. " "I don't always like queer people, " said Hanny, rather affronted. "I don't mean cross or ugly. Aunt Clem has soft down all over hercheeks, and such curly white hair. She's awful old and wrinkled anddeaf; but Dele can make her hear splendid. Aunt Patty isn't so old. Herreal name is Patricia. And Aunt Clem's is Clementine. " The children were not alone in regret. Ben was almost broken-hearted tolose Mr. Theodore. The boy and the man had been such good friends. AndBen was quite resolved, when he had served his apprenticeship, and wastwenty-one, to be a newspaper man and travel about the world. Delia had told them quite a wonderful secret the day she came up aftersome articles her mother had left. She had written some verses, and hadthem printed unknown to any one. The. Had said they were very fair. Andshe had actually been paid for a story; and the editor of the paperoffered to take others, if they were just as good. She had changed hercheck for a five-dollar goldpiece, which she carried about with her forluck. She showed it to them; and they felt as if they had seen amysterious object. Hanny was greatly amazed, puzzled as well. That a grown man like Mr. Theodore should write grave columns of business matters for a newspaperhad not surprised her; she had a vague idea that people who wroteverses and stories must needs be lovely. She pictured them with floatingcurls and eyes turned heavenward for inspiration. It seemed to her thatbeautiful thoughts must come from the clouds. Then their voices shouldbe soft, their hands delicate. And the divine something that nodictionary has ever yet found a word to describe must surround them. There was a fair-haired girl at school who had such an exquisite smile. And Daisy Jasper! For her to write verses would be the supreme fitnessof things. But careless, laughing, untidy Dele Whitney, neither fair nor darkand--yes, freckled, though her hair was more brown than red now. And tolaugh about it, and toss up her goldpiece and catch it with her otherhand! "Handsome!" Ben ejaculated when Hanny confided some of her difficultiesto him in a very timid fashion. "Great people don't need to run tobeauty. Still, Mr. Audubon had a lovely face, to my thinking, " he added, when he saw how disappointed the little girl looked. "And, oh! see here, Mr. Willis is handsome and Gaylord Clark, and there is that picture ofMrs. Hemans--" The little girl smiled. Dr. Hoffman had given Margaret a beautifullybound copy of Mrs. Hemans's poems, and the steel engraving in the front_was_ handsome. She had already learned two of the poems, and recitedthem at school. "And I don't think Delia so very plain, " continued Ben. "You just watchwhat beautiful curves there are to her lips, and her brown eyes lightenup like morning; and when they are a little sad, you can think thattwilight overshadows her. I like to watch them change so. I'm awfullysorry they're gone away. If we _could_ have another big brother, I'dlike it to be Mr. Theodore. " Hanny used to hope when she was as big as Margaret she would be aspretty. She didn't think very much about it, only now and then some ofthe cousins said, -- "Hanny doesn't seem to grow a bit. And how very light her hair keeps!You'd hardly think she and Margaret were sisters. " The little girls drew mysteriously closer after Nora went away. They allkept on at the same school, and played together. But dolls and teaparties didn't appear to have quite the zest of a year ago. One Saturday, Mr. Underhill took Hanny down to Beach Street. They wereall delighted to see her, even to Pussy Gray, who came and rubbedagainst her, and stretched up until he reached her waist, and, oh, howhe did purr! "I think he's been kind of homesick for the children, " remarked Nora, gravely, as if she might be quite grown up. "You see he _was_ spoiledamong you all. I was a little afraid at first that he would run away. " "Did you put butter on his paws?" "Oh, yes. He licked them, and then washed his face; but he kept lookingaround and listening to strange noises. He'd sit on the window-sill andwatch the children, and cry to go out. But he doesn't mind now. " He had a chair and a cushion to himself, and looked very contented. They went upstairs to see the old ladies. Aunt Clem had a round, full, baby-face, for all she was so old. Nora said she was almost ninety. AuntPatty was twenty years younger, quite brisk and bright, with wonderfulblue eyes. They had the front room upstairs, and their bed stood in thealcove. The furnishing looked like some of the country houses. Mrs. Whitney had the back room, and Nora shared it with her. There were greatpantries between with shelves and drawers, and in one a large chest, painted green, that Nora said was full of curiosities. Delia's room was up on the top floor. She had made it oddly pretty. There was a book-case and the small desk. They had used, ever so manypictures, and a pot of flowers on a little table. It had quite anorderly aspect. "And I have another five-dollar goldpiece, " laughed the girl. "I shallbe a nabob presently. I ought to invest my money; but it is socomforting to look at, that I hate to let it go. " Then Hanny had to tell them about the new neighbours. They wereforeigners, by the name of Levy; and there were four grown people, fivelittle children, and two servants. Mr. Levy was an importer, and theyall seemed jolly and noisy, but did not talk English, so there couldnot be any friendliness, even if they cared. "We shall soon be a foreign city, " declared Mrs. Whitney. "It'sastonishing how the foreigners do come in! No wonder people have to moveup-town. " Nora and Hanny went over in the Park after dinner. But it wasn't muchfun to be alone; so they walked up and down the street, and then Deliatook them in the stage down to the Battery. People were promenading ingala attire. Saturday afternoon had quite a holiday aspect. There was abig steamer coming up the bay. The Whitneys had heard twice from Mr. Theodore, who was now going over to Ireland. "Tell Ben that The. Is going to write to him, " remarked Dele. "He saidso in his last letter. " When they returned to Beach Street, they found Doctor Joe waiting forHanny. But Ben said afterward he wished he had gone instead, he wasquite longing to see them all. And he was delighted with the prospect ofa letter. Whether they would have liked their new neighbours or not, if they couldhave talked to them, made little difference to Mrs. Underhill. Margaretwas to be married in the early autumn. Dr. Hoffman had bought a housenot very far from Stephen's, in a new row that was just being finished. He wouldn't like it to stand empty, and he did not want to rent it for ayear, and perhaps have the pretty fresh aspect spoiled. And then it wasbetter for a doctor to be married and settled. Father Underhill sighed. Mrs. Underhill said sharply that she couldn'tget ready; but for all that, pieces of muslin came into the house forsheets and pillow-cases, and Margaret was busy as a bee. Another trouble loomed up before the anxious housekeeper. A sprightlywidower belonging to the same church as Martha, came home with her everySunday night, and class-meeting night, which was Thursday. "You ought to consider well, " counseled Mrs. Underhill. "A stepmother isa sort of thankless office. And two big boys!" "Well--I'm used to boys. They're not so bad when you know how to takethem, and they'll soon be grown up. Then he's quite forehanded. He ownsa house in Stanton Street, and has a good business, carting leather inthe Swamp. " The Swamp was the centre for tanneries and leather importers anddealers, and it still keeps its name and location. "I don't know what I shall do!" with a heavy sigh. "You'll have good long warning. I wouldn't be mean enough to go off andleave you with all this fuss and worry on your hands. And, land sakes!his wife hasn't been dead a year yet. I told him I couldn't think ofsuch a thing before Christmas, anyhow. But he has such a hard time withboth grandmothers. One comes and fixes things her way, and gets tiredand goes off, and then the other one comes and upsets them. It's justdreadful! I do believe a man needs a second wife more than he did thefirst. They're poor sticks to get along alone when they've had some oneto look after things. And when this affair is over, you'll kind ofsettle down, and the family seem smaller. Just don't fret a bit, for thewhole thing may fall through. " "I shouldn't want you to give up the prospect of a good home, " ratherreluctantly. "Well, that's what I've thought about. And I ain't a young girl withyears of chances before me. But I'm not going to be caught too easy, "and Martha tossed her head. Ben was very much interested in the war that was going on now in goodearnest. The Americans had taken Fort Brown, crossed to the Rio Grandeand driven the Mexicans from Matamoras. A plan had been laid to attackMexico on the Pacific side, and to invade both Old and New Mexico. SantaAnna had escaped from his exile in Cuba, and was longing to reconquerTexas. The whole question seemed in great confusion; but there was agreat deal of enthusiasm among some of the younger men, who thought wara rather heroic thing, and they were hurrying off to the scene ofaction. There was a spirit of adventure and curiosity about thewonderful western coast. George Horton used to talk all these matters over with Ben, when he camedown on his occasional visits. He was a fine big fellow now, but he wasgetting tired of farming. It was quite lonely. Uncle Faid read thecounty paper, but was not specially interested in the questions of theday; and Retty and her husband never went beyond stock, and the crops, and the baby. Ben kept his brother supplied with books that opened awider outlook for him, and made him a little discontented with thehumdrum round. "I wouldn't mind it if you were all there, " he would say. "After all thecity is the only real live place! I've half a mind to come down andlearn a trade. Only I _do_ like the wide out of doors. I couldn't standbeing cooped up. " "And I'm going round the world some day, " returned Ben. "I'd like to go out with Frémont. The other side of our country seems socurious to me, I want to see what it is like. The other side of theRocky Mountains! It's almost like saying the Desert of Sahara, " and theyoung fellow laughed. There was the usual spring and summer dress-making for the ladies. EvenMiss Cynthia, looking sharply at Hanny, said:-- "I don't see what's the matter with that child! I supposed she'd haveeverything outgrown, and some of her last summer's skirts won't need anyletting down. They're wearing them shorter now; and you know, CousinUnderhill, you would have them made rather long last summer. " The little girl sometimes felt quite sore on the point. The Deans weregetting to be tall girls, and even Daisy Jasper had taken to growing. And her lovely curls were quite long again. She certainly was verypretty. But when Hanny took this trouble to her father, he only laughed andsqueezed her in his arms, and sometimes rubbed her soft cheeks with hisbeard, his old trick, as he said:-- "But I want to keep you my little girl. I don't want you to grow biglike Margaret. For if you should, some nice fellow will come along andinsist upon carrying you off, and then I should lose you. Whatever wouldI do?" That view of the matter was alarming to contemplate. She clung closer toher father, and said, in a half-frightened tone, that she never would becarried off. It quite reconciled her to the fact of not growing rapidly. The girls all went down to see Nora Whitney one Saturday in June. Itlooked rather threatening in the morning, but a yard or two of blue skygave them hope. Mr. Underhill took them all in the family carriage. Oh, how lovely the little park looked with its soft grass and waving trees!And in the area windows there were pots of flowers: ten-weeks' stock, and spice pinks, and geraniums that were considered quite a rarity. Nora was out on the front stoop with Pussy Gray, who arched his back andwaved his tail with an air of grandeur, and then sat down on the topstep and began to wash his face, while Father Underhill was planning totake them all for a drive late in the afternoon. Pussy Gray watched his little mistress out of one green eye, and washedover one ear. He was just going over the other when Nora caught him, "Why do you stop him?" asked Daisy. "Because he wants to make it rain and spoil our day. Pussy Gray--if youdo!" "But it wouldn't really?" "Well, it's a sure sign when he goes over both ears. When I don't wantit to rain, I stop him. " "But suppose he does it when he is by himself?" "I think sometimes he runs away and does it on the sly. Aunt Patty saysit is as sure as sure can be. " Pussy Gray winked at Hanny, as if he said he didn't believe in signs, and that he should wash over both ears when he found a chance. Dele was bright and merry. She "bossed" the house, for Mrs. Whitney hadsubsided into novel-reading again, and now took books out of theMercantile Library. A woman was doing the Saturday morning's work, andscrubbing the areas. After that she went over the front one with a redwash that looked like paint, and freshened it. The girls took a run inthe yard. There was a long flower-bed down the side of the fence, and atone end all manner of sweet herbs, lavender, thyme, and rosemary, sweetverbena, and then tansy and camomile, and various useful things. "Camomile tea is good for you when you lose your appetite, " said Nora;"but it's awful bitter. Aunt Patty cuts off the leaves and blossoms ofthe sweet herbs, and sews them up in little bags of fine muslin, andlays them among the clothes and the nice towels and pillow-cases. Andit makes them all smell just delicious. " The air was full of fragrance now. They played tag around thegrass-plot. Daisy sat on the stoop and said she didn't mind, though shegave a little sigh, and wondered how it would feel to run about. Thelittle lame girl in Houston Street could get over the ground prettyrapidly. She had interested Doctor Joe in her, and he had hunted up thechild's mother, who wouldn't listen to anything being done for her. "Sure, " said she, "if it's the Lord's will to send this affliction toher, I'll not be flying in the face of Providence. She can manage, andshe's impident enough now. There'd be no livin' with her if she had twogood legs. And I'll not have any doctor cuttin' her up into mince-meat. " Pussy Gray came and sat beside Daisy with a flick of the ear and turn ofthe tail, as if he said: "We'll let those foolish girls fly about andsqueal and laugh and get half roasted, while we sit here at leisure andenjoy ourselves. " Afterward they swung, and then went up to Nora's play-house. Aunt Pattyhad given her a rag doll that she had when she was a little girl, and itwas over fifty years old. It was undeniably sweet, because it had beensteeped in lavender, but it was not very pretty. There was a curiouslittle wooden cradle Aunt Patty's brother had made. All the children'sstory-books were up here in a case Dele had made out of a packing box. They thought after a little they would rather go over in the Park. Noratook the key. It was very pleasant; and they watched the carts andwaggons going by, and the pedestrians. Presently a young woman unlockedthe gate at the lower end, and came in with two little children ratherqueerly dressed. She had a white muslin cap on her head, very high infront. We often see them now, but then they were a rarity. The littlechildren had very black eyes and curly black hair, and stared curiouslyat the group of girls. "They're French, " explained Nora. "They live a few doors down below. Andthey can't speak a word of English, nor the maid either, though we dosometimes talk a little. There are two quite big boys, then the motherand father, and the grandmother and grandfather. The old people come outand sit on the stoop, now that it is warm. He reads French books to her, and she makes lace. About four o'clock, the servant brings out atea-table, and they have some tea and little bits of cake. They do itall summer long, Aunt Patty says, and the old lady is beautiful, --justlike a picture. " The girls walked down a little. The maid smiled and nodded. The childrenmade queer stiff bows, both alike, though they were girl and boy; butthey looked half afraid. The maid said "Bon jour" to Nora, who repliedwith a longer sentence. And then she began to explain in English and herscanty French that these were her friends, and that they were studyingFrench in school. The Deans talked a little; but Hanny was too shy, andthe conversation would have been very amusing to a spectator. But justwhen it was getting quite exciting, and they couldn't make each otherunderstand at all, Hanny caught sight of Delia waving her handkerchieffrom the front stoop, which was a signal that dinner was ready, so theyall curtsied and said good-bye. Afterward Aunt Patty showed them her "treasures, " some very odd dishesand pitchers that were more than a hundred years old, and some jewels, and the gown Aunt Clem had worn to Washington's Inauguration, and toldthem about Mrs. Washington and going to the old theatre in John Street. She had some beautiful combs, and buckles that her father used to wear, and kid-gloves that had long arms and came most up to her shoulders. Shetold the children so many entertaining stories that before the afternoonseemed half gone Mr. Underhill came for them. Nora wanted to go also. "You can take her home with you, " said Dele; "and I'll come up for herthis evening. I'm just wild to see Mrs. Underhill and the boys. I hopethe children have had a good time. I've hardly had a glimpse of themexcept at dinner. " They crossed the ferry and went over to Jersey. It was still pretty wildand country-like, but the trees and shrubs and bloom everywhere lent ita glory. The children chatted merrily, and all agreed the day was tooshort. "But you can come again, " said Nora. When the Deans sprang out, Charles Reed stood by the stoop talking toMr. Dean. Nora said the place hadn't changed a bit, and she wished shewas back again. There were nothing but old people in Beach Street, andshe had no little girls to play with. She didn't know what she should dowhen vacation came. They were just through supper when Delia arrived, and she insisted uponsitting down at the table and having a cup of Mrs. Underhill's good tea. She was her olden jolly self, and had her brother's letters almost byheart. She thought them a great deal brighter and more amusing thanthose published in the "Tribune. " "But I like those, " exclaimed Ben; "I'm cutting them out for ascrap-book. I just wish I was with him!" "And he would like to have you, " returned Dele. "I don't believe he evertook so much of a fancy to any one as he did to you. " They talked books a little. No, Dele had not written any more stories. The old ladies took a good deal of her time. And she had been studying. She wished she were going to school again; she should appreciate it somuch more. She was reading the English essayists and Wordsworth, andlearning about the great men and women. Ben walked out to the Bowery to put them in the stage; and Dele said, rather ruefully:-- "I just wish we could study and read together. I miss The. So much, Icould always ask him questions; but now I have to look up everythingmyself, and it's slow work. " "Dele has quite a family on her hands, " said John, when she had gone. "She's getting to be rather good-looking, too. Her eyes are very fine. " "But she doesn't grow much tidier, " returned his mother. "Her hair is curly and always looks tumbled, " was the half-apologisingrejoinder. "But she is very bright, and she'll do something withherself. " Mrs. Underhill glanced sharply at her son. There was no danger in Benbeing a little soft about Delia Whitney; but she was surprised at John'scommendation. Doctor Joe walked down to see how his patient had stood the day. Hermother had been almost afraid to have her go, lest "something mighthappen. " She was very tired, of course, and glad to take to thereclining chair with all the pillows; but her eyes were in a glow, andher cheeks a pretty pink that Mrs. Jasper was quite sure was undueexcitement. "It was just splendid, " Daisy declared; "Mamma, I do want to be likeother girls, and see what is going on in the world. The old ladies wereso quaint; and it was wonderful to have seen President Washington and somany famous people. And what interested me, was her talking about themjust like ordinary persons. And Nora is so amusing. I want to learnFrench so that I can really talk it. You can't imagine how funny it wasin the Park, trying to make each other understand. Oh, there are so manythings I want to learn. " "There will be time enough, " said her mother. When Doctor Joe took her hand and bent over her to say good-night, shewhispered softly, -- "I _did_ try to forget my own misfortune, and I was very happy. I amgoing to be brave. It is such a lovely world; and it is such a splendidthing to be happy. Doctor Joe, you are my Mr. Greatheart. " CHAPTER IV A WEDDING There was a very fine noisy Fourth of July, and shortly after that camevacation. The Jaspers were going to Lebanon Springs, and then toSaratoga. Hanny came near to envying Daisy. She and Margaret had tovisit both grandmothers, and go over to Tarrytown, for the Morgans hadinsisted upon it. Hanny and her father had been reading some of Washington Irving'sstories, beside his famous history. He was abroad now; he had been sentas Minister to the Court of Madrid, that wonderful Spanish city with itsCourt so full of interest and beauty. She had been learning about it inher history. But this old house was not grand, only in its splendid elmsand maples and lindens and tall arbor-vitæs. Wolfert's Roost was almosthidden by them; but you could catch glimpses of its curious roof, fullof quaint corners and projections, and the old-fashioned stone mansionsaid to be modelled after the cocked hat of Peter the Headstrong. Itslow stories were full of nooks and angles. There were roses andhollyhocks like rows of sentinels, and sweet brier clambering about. The little girl thought of it many a time afterward, when it had becomemuch more famous, as Sunnyside. Indeed, she was to sit on the old piazzaoverlooking the river and listen to the pleasant voice that had charmedso many people, and study the drawings of Rip Van Winkle and SleepyHollow, to hear about Katrina Van Tassel, and the churn full of waterthat Fammetie Van Blarcom brought over from Holland because she was surethere could be no water good to drink in the new country. Already she was coming to have a great interest in people who wrotebooks and stories. It seemed such a wonderful gift. Dr. Hoffman paid the cousins the compliment of a visit. Afterward therewere mysterious communings between the sisters. Wedding presents were gifts of real preference and affection in thosedays. A girl had her "setting out" from home, and perhaps some one gaveher an heirloom for her name, or because she was an especial favourite. "Dr. Hoffman's well-to-do, " said Joanna; "and Margaret's folks won't lether go empty-handed. But I'd like to have some of our things go wherethey would be appreciated. We've no one of our very own to leave themto, " and Miss Morgan sighed. "Margaret doesn't consider store articlesso much better than those made long ago. Let's each give her a pair oflinen sheets. I've a dozen good ones now, and, land sakes! we sha'n'twear out half our bedding. And my tablecloth of the basket pattern, andtwo towels. And--let me see--that white wool blanket of Aunt Hetty's. Itwas spun and woven in 1800; and the sheep were raised here on the oldfarm. Some peculiar kind they were, with long, soft fleece. " "Well, " said Famie, slowly, "there's my snowball tablecloth and twotowels. 'Rastus's wife won't ever care for them with her fine Paristhings. But we won't give away the silver, nor the old pewter flagon, nor the basin and cups. They've the crown mark on them, 1710 for a date. Deary me, they'll outlast us, " and she sighed also. Roseann agreed. Six sheets and pillow-cases, three tablecloths andhalf-a-dozen towels, and two blankets, one spun and woven by their ownmother. The initials and date were marked on them in old-fashionedcross-stitch, which was a little more ornate than regularsampler-stitch. Aunt Hetty's blanket had been made from the wool of an especial cossetlamb that had lost its mother and been brought up by hand. The littlegirl was very much interested. "Did it follow her about?" she asked. "Dear sakes!" and Aunt Famie laughed. "I just guess it did. It grew verytroublesome, I've heard tell, and was quite quality, always wanting tocome into the sitting-room. And it would curl down at Aunt Hetty's feetlike a dog. She saved the wool every year, and spun it, and laid it awayuntil she had enough. But I don't believe it went to school, althoughit could spell one word. " "One word!" cried the little girl, in amaze. "What was that?" "Why b-a ba, of course. They said it could spell through the wholelesson, and I don't see why not. I've heard lambs make a dozen differentsounds. " The little girl laughed. She was very fond of listening to what AuntFamie did when she was little; and they went to call upon some curiousold people who kept to the Dutch ways and wore the old costume. Some ofthem had wooden clogs for rainy weather. When they talked real Dutch, Hanny found it was quite different from German. They had a picture ofsome old ancestor's house with the windmill in the front yard. The drives about were beautiful then, and so many places had queer oldlegends. Dr. Hoffman was very much interested, and it seemed to Hanny asif she had strayed over into Holland. She resolved when she went home toask Ben to get her a history of Holland, so she and her father mightread it together. Her mother never had any time. Margaret was much surprised at her gifts, and thanked the cousins withwarmest gratitude. Even Grandmother Van Kortlandt had hinted "that shewasn't going to save up everything for Haneran. " But the elder people inthose days were fond of holding on to their possessions until the verylast. Uncle David came up for them and took them to White Plains, where theyhad a nice visit; and grandmother selected some articles from her storefor the prospective bride. Hanny remembered what Cousin Archer had said about the mittens, andasked Uncle David. He found his hook, and, sure enough, it was somethinglike a crochet-needle. He took what the little girls called singlestitch. But he admitted that Hanny's pretty edgings and tidies werequite wonderful. "I thought the Germans must have brought the knowledge to the country, "she said. "How long have you known it?" "Oh, since my boyhood, " and he gave a smile. "I heard a very old man sayonce that Noah set his sons to work in the Ark making fishing-nets. Perhaps Mrs. Noah set her daughter-in-laws to crocheting, as you callit. Forty days was a pretty long spell of rainy weather, when they hadno books or papers to read, and couldn't go out to work in the garden. " "Didn't they have any books?" Hanny's eyes opened wide. "All their writing was done on stone tablets, and very little of that. " "I think I wouldn't have liked living then. Books are so splendid. Andyou get to know about so many people. But there was the Bible, " and thechild's voice dropped to a reverent tone. "Still, if Moses wrote the first books, that was a long while after theFlood. " Hanny's vague idea was that the Bible had been created in the beginning, like Adam and Eve. Cousin Ann and Aunt Eunice were as much in love with the little girl asever, but were tremendously surprised at her stock of knowledge. Itdidn't seem possible that one little girl could know so much. That shecould play tunes on the piano, and repeat ever so many French words, then explain what they meant in English, was a marvel. But the childnever seemed spoiled by the admiration. They had to come down to Yonkers, for Uncle Faid and Aunt Crete wouldhave been hurt and jealous. Only it did not seem now to Hanny as if shehad ever lived there. The old kitchen, the creek that went purlingalong, bearing fleets of ducks and geese, and the wide old porch lookednatural, but the daily living was so changed! Old black Aunt Mary wasdead. Some of the neighbours had gone away. Cousin Retty had a new baby, a little girl; but she said it was the crossest thing alive, and it didseem to cry a good deal. It couldn't compare with Stephen's baby, whowas always laughing and jolly. They had to stop at Fordham to see some cousins. When people live acentury or so in one place and intermarry, they get related to a goodmany people. And there was a sweet little grandmother here, who, in hergirlhood, had the same name as the little visitor--Hannah Underhill. There was no Ann in it to be sure. And now her name was Hannah Horton. There were lots of gay, rollicking cousins. The little girl felt almostafraid of the big boys, and she was used to boys, too. Her mother had said she might make a visit with the Odell girls. Theyhad grown and changed; and Hanny felt quite as if she were undersized. Mr. Odell had been building a new part to the house; and oh, what alovely garden they had! It made the little girl almost envious. Margaret left her there for several days. At least, Dr. Hoffman drove upone afternoon and took Margaret home, as Hanny's visit wasn't nearfinished. They had to talk about their schools and the girls they knew. Polly and Janey wanted to hear about the First Street girls and DaisyJasper, who was getting well, and Nora, who had moved away, and thequaint old ladies in Beach Street. There was a splendid big cat at the Odell's who liked nothing betterthan being nursed, and two kittens that Hanny never tired of watching, they were so utterly funny in their antics, and seemed to do so muchactual reasoning, as to cause and effect, that it amazed her. And, oh, the beautiful country ways and wild flowers on every hand! It does not look so now. One wonders where all the people have come fromto fill the rows and rows of houses, and to keep busy about the millsand factories. But then the great city had only about five hundredthousand inhabitants, and did not need to overflow into suburbandistricts. It seemed strange for the little girl to come home to a city street. Itlooked narrow and bare, with its cobblestones and paved sidewalks. And, oh, what a racket the waggons made! and she was amazed at the crowds ofpeople, as she thought there were then. But inside everything was homelike and delightful. She was so glad tosee her mother and father and the boys. Ben looked like a young man. Jimwas to go to a preparatory school for a year, and then enter ColumbiaCollege. Mrs. Craven had sold her house, and gone up to Seventh Street, and was to have quite a young ladies' school. Josie Dean had decided tostudy for a teacher. That made her seem quite grown up. Old Mr. Beekman had died while the little girl was away; and Katschinahad grieved herself to death, and followed her master. Annette had alover, but of course she could not marry in some time. The old farm wasto be sold--at least, streets were to be cut through it, and theoutlying lots sold off. Mrs. Beekman was to keep the down-town house forher part. And now it was considered that Stephen Underhill had done a grand thingfor himself in marrying Dolly Beekman. Mr. Beekman owned no end of realestate, was indeed much richer than people imagined. The girls wouldeach have a big slice. But Dolly was just as sweet and plain, and asmuch interested in everybody as before. She was so ready to help andadvise Margaret, and go out shopping with her. For was she not verywise and experienced, having been married two whole years! Dr. Hoffman had bought his house up-town as well. Some people scoutedthe idea that the city could be crowded even in fifty years. But thelong-headed ones reasoned that it must go up, as it could not expand inbreadth, and "down-town" must be given over to business. Hanny went up to see the new house one Saturday. The front basement wasto be the office, and was being fitted up with some shelves andcabinets. The back basement was the kitchen. There were two largeparlors and a third room, that was the dining-room. And one thinginterested the little girl greatly, --this was the "dumb waiter. " "Of course it can't talk, " said she, laughingly. "And it can't hear; butyou can make it obey. " "It can creak and groan when it gets dry for a little oil. And it willbe like a camel if you put too heavy a load on it, " returned the Doctor. "Does the camel groan?" "Horribly! And he won't stir an inch toward getting up until you lightenhis load. " There was a pretty pantry across the corner, with a basin to wash chinaand silver, so it would not need to go downstairs. Hanny thought shewould like to come sometime and wash the pretty dishes. Upstairs there were three rooms and a bath, and beautiful closets, andon the third floor three rooms again. "But what will you do with all of them?" asked Hanny. Margaret had said the same thing to her lover. And Mrs. Underhill saidit was an awful extravagance to have such a great house for two people. But John Underhill declared Dr. Hoffman had done just the right thing, buying up-town. He would settle himself in a first-class practicepresently, as the well-to-do people kept moving thither. There had been a good deal of discussion about the wedding. Dr. Hoffmanwanted to take Margaret to Baltimore, where his married sister resided, and an aunt, his mother's sister, who was too feeble to undertake ajourney. They would go on to Washington as well. Wedding journeys werenot imperative, but often taken. An evening party at home seemed toomuch for Mrs. Underhill; and Dolly, being in mourning, could not leadany gaieties. She cut the Gordian knot, however, --a church wedding, with cards for allthe friends, and a reception at home. They would take the train at sixfrom Jersey City. Mr. Underhill was rather sorry not to have anold-fashioned festivity. But Miss Cynthia said this was just the thing. So the marriage was at St. Thomas' church at two o'clock. A cousin ofDolly's and a school friend were bridesmaids, though Annette Beekman hadbeen chosen. The bride wore a fine India mull that flowed around herlike a fleecy cloud, Dolly's veil, and orange blossoms, for it was goodluck to be married in something borrowed. The little girl headed theprocession, carrying a basket of flowers, and looked daintily sweet. The "Home Journal, " the society paper of that day, spoke of thebeautiful young couple in quite extravagant terms. Mrs. Underhill saidrather tartly afterward, "That Margaret was well enough looking; but shehad never thought of setting her up for a beauty. " Yet down in thedepths of her heart her mother love had a little ache because her lastborn would never be as beautiful. But Mr. Underhill considered they hadnot been praised a bit too much, and sent in a year's subscription tothe paper. Miss Cynthia was in her glory. She seemed one of the people who nevergrow old, and though a great talker, was seldom sharp or severe. Everybody knew she could get married if she desired to, so she rathergloried in staying single. Margaret cut her wedding-cake, and the piece with the ring fell toDolly's cousin, who turned scarlet, which brought out a general laugh. There was much wishing of joy, and presently Margaret went upstairs andput on her pretty grey silk with the "drawn" bonnet to match, and thegrey cloth _visite_, looking as handsome as she had in her wedding gown. They left so many people behind no one had a chance to feel lonesome. There were ever so many relations who were going to stay for a visit, and shop a little. People were given to hospitality in those days. Theconstricted living of flats had not come into existence. And your friendwould have felt insulted to be taken to a restaurant for dinner, insteadof at your own house. Hanny had quite a girls' tea-party afterward. Martha spread a table forthem upstairs. And the funny thing was, that her father and the boysteased to come, and her mother really had to rush to the rescue. Butthey did let Doctor Joe remain, and they had a delightful time. Josie and Tudie and Nora told how they would do when they were married. "Now, Hanny!" Daisy Jasper had not spoken. It was not likely any onewould want to marry a lame girl, and the others were too kind to make ita matter of embarrassment. "I don't believe I _can_ get married, " said Hanny, with sweetseriousness. "I shouldn't like to leave father, and mother will wantsomebody, for the boys will be away. " Daisy stretched out her hand. "We'll just have a good time together, "she rejoined, smilingly. "And if Doctor Joe doesn't get married, we'llwork slippers for him and cigar cases, and if we could learn how, wemight make him a dressing-gown. " "If you will be as good as that, I don't think I will get married. Andwhen I drop in, you can give me a cup of tea, and we'll have the best oftimes. I hope I won't be very queer. " He said it so seriously, they all laughed. Afterward he declared he was going to take all the girls home. That wasa bachelor's prerogative, and he would begin at once. He took the Deansfirst, then Nora, whom he put in the Bowery stage. Daisy and Hanny spentthat leisure admiring baby Stephen, who had six cunning white teeth andcurly hair, which the little girl doted on. Daisy told the tea-party over to her aunt and her mother, and was veryhappy. And she felt someway as if she had settled her life, andshouldn't mind it very much. But husbands who were as tender as Dr. Hoffman, and babies like laughing, dimpled Stevie! Were there some childish tears in her eyes? But the main thing for herwas to get strong and be courageous, and take her share of the world'sknowledges and beautiful things. She wondered sometimes why the LordJesus, who was so wise and good and pitiful, should have let thismisfortune come upon her, or why, when all the doctors were so inearnest, they could not have made her straight and well. And when peoplesaid, "Oh, what a pity, with that lovely face!" she thought she couldhave borne it better if she had been plainer. When the great love that thinks for its neighbour imbues us all, weshall cease to make personal comments, and endeavour to bear each othersburdens with silent, tender grace. Doctor Joe was her comfort and inspiration. No one could ever estimatewhat his kindly interest had done for her. He was so cheerful and fullof fun and sunshine. Elderly women had begun to pet up the young doctor, in spite of his youth. In fact there were many virtues ascribed to experience in those days;and now we have learned the truth is in the application, that livingthrough a great deal doesn't always bring wisdom. Grandmother Van Kortlandt and Aunt Katrina had a fine time visitingStephen. They were quite stylish, old-fashioned style, that wore fineEnglish thread-laces with the scent of lavender, and had their silveryhair done up in puffs with side-combs. They were a little precise andformal, and would have been horrified if the children had not said "Yes, ma'am, " and "No, ma'am. " No free and easy manners for them! The little girl was quite sure she loved Grandmother Underhill the best. Both called her Haneran, as if they were a little jealous of a fullshare in her name. Grandmother made quite a long visit, for she said, "She might never come again, she was getting rather feeble. She didn'texpect to live to see the little girl married. " Hanny's father declared, "She couldn't be married until she wastwenty-five, just in time to save her from being an old maid. " "But I won't be very old at twenty-five, " she replied, smiling out ofher big innocent eyes. "And I thought I wouldn't get married at all. " They _did_ miss Margaret. But the little girl had to study hard, andwait on her mother, and practise her music, and visit. There were somany places clamouring for her. The boys at Houston Street missed Jim Underhill also, though he oftencame up that way when he could get off, which meant when he did not haveto stay for a recitation. Though they were up to pranks, they were notcruel or malicious. If they could "make fun, " and rhyme a fellow's nameridiculously, and ring door-bells now and then, or leave a nicelydone-up parcel on some one's stoop, wrapped and tied and directed, containing a box of ashes, or a brick, they were satisfied. They stillconsidered it fun to have Biddy Brady dance, and Limpy Dick, as theycalled the lame girl, run a race. She hopped along with her hand on herlame knee with surprising rapidity. CHAPTER V WINTER HAPPENINGS Margaret came home and had a party at her house, "Infair" the olderpeople called it. Then a family tea at home, and another at Stephen's. Mrs. Verplank, the Doctor's half-sister, gave her a very elegantreception. She was oddly changed, somehow, just as sweet, but with more dignity andcomposure; and Jim couldn't make her turn red by teasing her. The littlegirl noticed that her mother treated Margaret with a peculiar deferenceand never scolded her; and she said Philip to Dr. Hoffman. He had some serious talks with the little girl, for he pretended to beafraid she would love Dolly and Stephen the best. Everybody had a desireto hold her, because she was so little and light. She was not to makethe baby an excuse to go the oftenest to Dolly's. "Oh, dear, " she rejoined, with a sigh, "and if John should get married, and the rest of them, as they grow up, I wouldn't have any time left formyself. But Joe isn't going to be married. " Dr. Hoffman laughed at that. John had a sweetheart. He always dressed up in his best on Wednesdaynight. Young men in those days thought of homes and families of theirown. There were no clubs to take them in. An odd little incident happened to Margaret's _menage_. Stephen had oneof Aunt Mary's grandsons as porter in the store. Another, who had beenbrought up as a sort of house-servant to some elderly people that deathhad visited, came to the city, and Stephen sent him to Dr. Hoffman, whowas inquiring about a factotum. He was a very well-looking andwell-mannered young coloured lad, and knew how to drive and care for ahorse. He was quite a cook also, and soon learned to do the marketing. Margaret kept house for herself, and enjoyed her pretty new china andbeautiful cut-glass. And after a month or two Dolly persuaded her torent two rooms to two ladies, the back room on the second floor, and oneon the third. She was glad to have some company when the Doctor had tobe out. One of the ladies coloured plates for magazines and illustratedbooks. This was done by hand then, and was considered quite artisticwork. We had not printed in colours yet. The ladies were very refined, and had a small income beside the work. The Doctor took Margaret out every pleasant afternoon. His practice wasnot large enough to work him very severely. In the evening they read orsang, as she played very nicely now. But she missed the breezy boys andtheir doings, and her mother's cheery voice ordering every one about, and, oh, she missed the little girl who didn't come half often enough. She began a choice piece of work for her, a silk quilt. No one had goneinsane over crazy work then. This was shapely, decorous diamonds, withthe name of the wearer, or a date, embroidered on each block. TheMorgans had given her pieces from Paris and Venice and Holland, and evenHong Kong. Some were a hundred and more years old, and were gowns ofquite famous people. This fall the American Institute Fair was held at Niblo's Garden. Therewere many curious things. Both telegraphs had been put up, --House's withits letter printing, Morse's with its cabalistic signs. How words couldtravel through a bit of wire puzzled most people. Uncle Faid went withthem one afternoon. "No use to tell me, " he declared. "The fellow at one end knows just whatthe fellow at the other end is going to say. Now if they sent it in abox, or a letter, it would look reasonable. " "I'll send you a message, " said Ben; "you go down at the end, and see ifthis doesn't come to you. " He wrote on a slip of paper, and gave it to Uncle Faid, who went to theother end with a disbelieving shake of the head. And when the receiverwrote it out, and Uncle Faid compared it, the astonishment wasindescribable. "There's some jugglery about it, " he still insisted. "Stands to reason abit of wire can't really know what you say. " Hanny brought home her telegraph message; and when she showed it to NoraWhitney, the child declared it was like the queer things in some booksher papa had, called hieroglyphics. But Doctor Joe told her a strangerthing than that. He found the verses in the Psalms that were supposed toprefigure the telegraph:-- "There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard. "Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world. " "But they can't go across the ocean, " said the little girl, confidently. "Why, they are discussing the feasibility of crossing the Hudson withsome kind of sunken cable. What we shall be doing fifty years fromnow--and I shall not be such a dreadfully old man! We are learning howto live longer as well. " Fifty years! and she would be as old as the grandmothers! The other wonderful thing was the sewing-machine. Elias Howe had learnedhow to thread the needle, the opposite way, by putting the eye in thepoint. There was a little bent piece underneath that caught the loopwhile a thread ran through it. They gave away samples, and everybodyadmitted that it _was_ wonderful. The little girl said she could sew a great deal better. And her motherdeclared such sewing was hardly good enough for a feed-bag. Her fatherlaughed, and told her rosy fingers were good enough sewing-machine forhim. Artificial legs and feet interested Doctor Joe very much. They hadcurious springs and wires, and the outside was pink, like realflesh, --in fact, they looked uncanny, they were so real. Hanny had seenseveral old men stumping around on cork or wooden legs about which therecould be no deception. But when any one met with a mishap now, theycould fix him up "limber as an eel, " Doctor Joe said. There was a deal of curious machinery and implements that some peoplesmiled over, which, like the sewing-machines, made fortunes for theirinventors presently; beautiful articles and jewelry; a great vegetableand flower exhibit; a small loom; weaving; carving of all kinds; andcloths and silks. Indeed, the Fair was considered a very great thing, and the country people who came in to visit it felt almost as if theyhad been to a strange country. Every afternoon and evening it wascrowded. Jim liked his new school very much, and soon flung his Latin words athis little sister in perfect broadsides. Then he found that Ben hadsomehow picked up a good deal of Latin, and knew all the Greek alphabet;and instead of laughing at Charles Reed, as a Miss Nancy, he becamequite friendly with him. All the children came home for a Christmas dinner, and had a delightfultime. Then Martha was married, and went to her own housekeeping, and acousin of the little German girls who lived in Houston Street, who hadjust come from Germany, petitioned for a trial. She was so bright andclean and ambitious to learn American ways that after a fortnight, Mrs. Underhill decided to keep her. When all the visitors had gone, Hanny found it very lonely sleeping in abig room by herself. And as they couldn't move her downstairs, Mr. AndMrs. Underhill went upstairs and changed their room to theguest-chamber. Hanny missed her sister very much when night came. Butthen she had so many lessons to study; and after the history of Holland, they took up that of Spain, which was as fascinating as any romance. Everybody was a good deal excited this winter about a curiousphenomenon. At a small town in Western New York two sisters hadannounced that they could hold communication with the spirit-world, andreceive messages from the dead. Little raps announced the spirit of yourfriend or relative. To imaginative people, it was simply wonderful. Andnow the Misses Fox were giving exhibitions and making converts. People recalled the old Salem witchcraft, and not a few considered itdirect dealing with the Evil One. Ben was deeply interested. He and Joetalked over clairvoyance and mesmerism, --a curious power developed by alearned German, Dr. Mesmer, akin to that of some of the old magicians. Ben was very fond of abnormal things; but Joe set down communicationwith another world as an impossibility. Still, a good many peoplebelieved it. The children joined the singing-school again, and Charles Reed sang atseveral concerts. He went quite often to the Deans, and occasionallycame over to the Underhills. Both houses were so delightful! If he onlyhad a sister, or a brother! Or if his mother would do something besidescrub and clean the house! Social life was so attractive to him. One day she did do something else. It was February, and the snow and icehad melted rapidly. All the air was full of the sort of chill that goesthrough one. She wanted some windows washed, and the yard cleared up, and was out in the damp a long while. That night she was seized with asudden attack of pleurisy. Mr. Reed sprang up and made a mustarddraught; but the pain grew so severe that he called Charles, and senthim over for Doctor Joe. By daylight, fever set in, and it was so severea case that Doctor Joe called a more experienced doctor in consultation, and said they must have a nurse at once. Charles had never seen her ill before. And when the doctors looked sograve, and the nurse spoke in such low tones, he was certain she couldnot live. He was so nervous that he could not get his lessons, androamed about the house in a frightened sort of way. The nurse was usedto housekeeping as well, and when she was needed downstairs Charlesstayed in the sick-room. His mother did not know him or any one, butwandered in her mind, and was haunted by the ghosts of work in a mannerthat was pitiful to listen to. The nurse said she had made work heridol. There were two days when Mr. Reed stayed at home, though he sentCharles off to school. They had a woman in the kitchen now, a relativehe had written for, Cousin Jane that Charles had once met in thecountry. She was extremely tidy; but she put on an afternoon gown, and awhite apron, and found time in the evening to read the paper. On the second afternoon both doctors went away just as Charles camehome. His father was standing on the stoop with them, and Doctor Joelooked down and smiled. The boy's heart beat with a sudden warmth, as hewent down the area steps, wiped his feet, and hung up his cap andovercoat with as much care as if his mother's sharp eyes were on him. There was no one in the room; but he sat down at once to his lessons. Presently his father entered. His eyes had a pathetic look, as if theywere flooded with tears. "The doctor gives us a little hope, Charles, " he said, in a rathertremulous voice. "It's been a hard pull. The fever was broken yesterday;but she was so awful weak; indeed, it seemed two or three times in thenight as if she was quite gone. Since noon there has been a decidedchange; and, if nothing new happens, she will come around all right. Itwill be a long while though. She's worked too hard and steady; but ithas not been my fault. At all events, we'll keep Cousin Jane just aslong as we can. And now I must run down-town for a few hours. TellCousin Jane not to keep tea waiting. " Charles sat in deep thought many minutes. His father's unwonted emotionhad touched him keenly. Of course he would have been very sorry to havehis mother die, yet how often he had wished for another mother. Thethought shocked him now; and yet he could see so many places where itwould be delightful to have her different. Careful as she was of him, hehad no inner consciousness that she loved him, and he did so want tohave some one he could love and caress, and who would make herselfpretty. Hanny loved her father and mother so much. She "hung around"them. She sat in her father's lap and threaded his hair with her softlittle fingers. She had such pretty ways with her mother. She didn'tseem ever to feel afraid. Neither did the Deans. Of course they were all girls; but there were Benand Jim and, oh, Doctor Joe teased his mother, and was sweet to her, andeven kissed her, grown man that he was! Charles could hardly decide which mother he liked the most, but hethought Mrs. Dean. Mrs. Underhill sometimes scolded, though it neverseemed real earnest. He felt more at home with the Deans. Perhaps this was because Mrs. Deanhad always coveted a boy, and, like a good many mothers, she wanted areal nice, smart, refined boy. Charles was obedient and truthful, neatand orderly, and always had his lessons "by heart. " He was very proudof his standing in school. He could talk lessons over with more freedomto Mr. Dean than with his own father. And Josie was always so proud ofhim. Perhaps the reason he liked the Deans so well was because he wassuch a favourite with them, and appreciation seemed very sweet to theboy who had so little in his life. Mr. Dean seemed to think there was great danger of his growing up aprig; but Mrs. Dean always took his part in any discussion. Mr. Dean wasvery fond of having him over to sing; and Josie gave him her pianolessons, only she kept a long way ahead. Oh, how many, many times Charles had wished he was their son! There wereso many boys in the Underhill family, he was quite sure they couldn'twant any more. But just now he felt curiously conscience-stricken, though greatlyconfused. He supposed his mother _did_ want him, though she alwaysconsidered him so much trouble, and talked about her "working frommorning to night and getting no thanks for it. " He had felt he wouldlike to thank her specially for some things, but ought he, _must_ he, begrateful for the things he did not want and were only a trouble andmortification to him? And was it wicked to wish for some other mother? He would try not to do it again. He might think of Mrs. Dean as hisaunt, and the girls his cousins. And he would endeavour with all hismight to love his own mother. Years afterward, he came to know how great an influence this hour had onhim in moulding his character. But he did not realise how long he haddreamed until he heard Cousin Jane's brisk voice, --it was not a cross orcomplaining voice, --saying:-- "Why, Charles, here in the dark! Well, we have had a pretty severe time;but your mother's good constitution has pulled her through. And thatyoung doctor's just splendid! I haven't had much opinion of youngdoctors heretofore. To be sure, there has been Dr. Fitch; but I thinkDr. Underhill works more as if his life depended on it. And if youweren't very hungry, Charles, we might wait until your father comeshome. About seven, he said. I must confess that Cousin Maria has one ofthe best and most faithful of husbands. He isn't sparing any expense, either. " Charles flushed with delight to hear his father praised for his devotionto his mother. "I'd like to wait, Cousin Jane, " he replied in an eager tone. "I'll make a cup of tea and take a bit of bread and cold meat up to Mrs. Bond. Then I'll come back and set the table. " She had lighted the lamps while she was talking, and Charles hurried upwith his neglected lessons, studying in earnest. It was half-past seven when his father came in. No one fretted, however. His brisk walk had given him a good colour, and his eyes had brightened. He seemed so pleased that they had waited for him. Cousin Jane did makeevents go on smoothly. The tea was hot, as he liked it; and there was aplate of toast, of which he was very fond. When he took out his paper, he said to Charles:-- "You might run over to the Deans and tell them the good news. They havebeen so kind about inquiring. I wouldn't stay more than ten or fifteenminutes. " He had not been over in a week, and they were glad to see him, as wellas to hear the hopeful tidings. But the girls had quite a bit ofcasuistry in their talk that night as they were going to bed, partly asto how Charles could be so glad, and partly whether one ought to be gladunder all circumstances, when events happened that did not really tendto one's comfort. "But Mary Dawson said she wasn't sorry when her stepmother died, and shewouldn't tell a story about it. Her stepmother wasn't much crosser thanMrs. Reed. You know Mrs. Dawson wouldn't let the girls go tosinging-school, and she made them wear their outgrown dresses, and shedid whip them dreadfully. I couldn't have been sorry either. " "But it would be awful not to have any one sorry when you were dead. " "I think, " began Josie, gravely, "we ought to act so people _will_ besorry. If you are good and kind, and do things pleasantly--Mrs. Reed isalways doing; but I guess it is a good deal the _way_ you do. You seemother and father do think of the things we like, when they are rightand proper. They show they love us and like to have us love them inreturn. " "Oh, I just couldn't live without mother!" and the tears overflowedTudie's eyes. "And I know it would break her heart, and father's, too, if they lostus. And so we ought to try and make each other happy. I mean to thinkmore about it. And, oh, Tudie, if Mrs. Reed could be converted! Peopleare sometimes when they've been very ill. Suppose we pray for that. " They did heartily; and Josie resolved not to miss one night. It wouldmake bonny Prince Charlie so happy to have his mother changed into asweet, tender woman. Charles didn't dare pray for that. God knew what was best for any one, and He _did_ have the power. He wondered what things were right to putin one's prayers. Some years after he came to know it was "all things, "just as one might ask of a human father, knowing that sometimes even thefather after the flesh, in his larger wisdom, saw that it was best todeny. "Don't you want to look in on your mother?" Cousin Jane said the nextmorning. He had not seen her in several days. "Oh, yes, " answered Charles. Mrs. Reed had been thin before; but now she looked ghostly, with hersunken eyes and sharpened nose and chin. Charles had a great desire tokiss her; but she did not approve of such "foolishness. " Her poorskeleton hand, that had done so much hard and useless work, lay on thespread in a limp fashion, as if it would never do anything again. Charles took it up and pressed it to his cheek. Mrs. Reed opened hereyes, and a wavering light, hardly a smile, crossed her face. "I've been very sick, " and, oh, how faint the sound was, quivering, too, as if it had not the strength to steady itself! And then the thin lidsfell. The death-like pallor startled him. "But you're going to get well again. " The boy's sweet, confident tone touched her. She did not dare open hereyes, lest she should cry, she was so weak. Then he said, "Good-morning, " and went softly out of the room, feeling that he wasglad in every pulse of his being that God had given her back to them. Doctor Joe had a good deal of credit for the case. Dr. Fitch admittedthat it had been very severe, and required the utmost watchfulness. Mrs. Underhill was very proud of her son's success "in his own country, " asshe termed it. And she said when Mrs. Reed was well enough to seevisitors, she would go over and call. Indeed, it had created a good dealof interest in the neighbourhood, and Charles found himself treated witha peculiar deference among the children. Mrs. Reed's recovery was very slow, however. Mrs. Bond went away whenshe could begin to go about the room and help herself. Cousin Jane was agood nurse, and she declared, "There wasn't work enough to keep herhalf busy. " She did the mending and the ironing; Mr. Reed insisted theyshould have a washerwoman. Mrs. Reed sighed when she thought of theexpense. It had been the pride of her life that she never had a fit ofillness, and had never hired a day's work done except when Charles wasborn. She was sure now that the house must be in an awful plight. She neverfound time to sit down in the morning and read a book or paper. CousinJane changed her gown every afternoon, and wore lace ruffles at theneck, just plain strips of what was called footing, that she pleated upherself. Then, too, she wore white muslin aprons, --a very old fashionthat was coming back. And though Mrs. Reed couldn't find fault when shesaw Charles and his father always as neat as a pin, still she was surethere must be a great need of thoroughness somewhere. She prided herselfupon being "thorough. " Mrs. Underhill came over one day with the Doctor, and they had a reallynice call. Of course Mrs. Reed couldn't understand how she ever managedwith such a houseful of boys. Yet she was fresh and fair, and seemed totake life very comfortably. Then they were always having so much companyat the Underhills. "Yes, " said Mrs. Underhill, with a mellow sort of laugh that agreedcapitally with her ample person, --"yes, we have such a host ofcousins, --not all own ones, but second and third. And since my daughterwas married, the house seems lonesome at times. All the boys are awayat work but Jim; and Hanny has so many places to go, that, what withlessons and all, I don't seem to get much good of her. But I've a nicekitchen-girl. She was a great trial when she first came, with her notknowing much English, and her German ways of cooking. But she's quitelike folks now, and very trusty. How fortunate you found a relative tocome in and do for you! And the Doctor says you must give up hard workfor a long while to come. " Mrs. Reed sighed, and said she should be glad enough to get about again. The Deans came over, and some of the other neighbours; and Mrs. Reedfound it very pleasant. One afternoon late in March, Mr. Reed came homequite early, and carried his wife down into the dining-room. He hadasked the Deans over to tea, and Doctor Joe. And there was the table, spick and span, the silver shining, the windows so clean you couldn'tsee there was any glass in them, the curtains fresh, the tableclothironed so that every flower and leaf in it stood out. There wasn't aspeck of dust anywhere! The kitchen was in nice order; the range black and speckless, theclosets sweet with their fresh white paper. And Cousin Jane's bread andbiscuit were as good as anybody's, her ham tender and a luscious pink, her two kinds of cake perfection. Charles sat next to his mother, a tall, smiling boy with a clean collarand his best roundabout. It was the first tea-party he ever remembered, and he was delighted. He was so polite and watchful of his mother thatit really went to her heart. For seven weeks the house had gone on without her, and she couldn't seeany change for the worse. Mr. Reed looked uncommonly well, and was avery agreeable host. The Doctor complimented her, and said next week heshould come and take her out driving; and that, to do him real credit, she must get some flesh on her bones. It was a very pleasant time; and Charles was so happy that his motherwondered if there wasn't something better in the world than work andcare. CHAPTER VI THE LAND OF OPHIR Spring came on apace, and spring in New York had many beautiful featuresthen. The Battery, the Bowling Green, City Hall Park, with its fountain, the College grounds, Trinity and St. Paul's churchyards, and the squarescoming into existence farther up-town. Trees and grass and flowersdelighted the eye, and lilacs made the air fragrant. All up the countryways there were patches of wild honeysuckle, --pinxter flowers, as it wascalled. The little girl had so many things to distract her attention that shewondered how grown-up people could be so tranquil with all theirknowledges and their cares. She began to realise the great difference intastes and characteristics, though she would not have quite comprehendedthat long word. Perhaps Ben, being in the midst of stories and books, and hearing so much talk about the great men of the day, roused the sametrain of thought in her, though I think hero-worship came natural toher. The Dean girls read the sweet pretty domestic stories with greatrelish. Miss Macintosh, Mary Howitt, and even Jane Austin were theirdelight. Hanny and Daisy were deeply interested in history. And duringthe last year some very spirited stories had been written on the Mexicanwar, and all the struggles of a few years before. The wealth andsplendour of Montezuma and his sad ending, the wonders of that land ofancient romance, were rendered more real on account of the presentstruggle that Hanny and her father had followed closely. She kept intouch with all the generals. The hero of Monterey, General Worth, General Scott's entry into the city of Montezuma, General Watts Kearny, who led his men a thousand miles through the desert to seize Santa Fé, and hold New Mexico, and his brilliant young nephew, Philip, who was thefirst man to enter the gate of San Antonio, and who lost his left arm atthe battle of Churubusco. Little did she dream, indeed, who could havedreamed then, that he was to be one of the heroes of another war, nearerand more dreadful to us! Then there was a great celebration over the final victory. City Hall wascrowded. There were some magnificent fireworks and much rejoicing. Andthough there were questions for diplomacy to adjust, we had gainedCalifornia and New Mexico; and both were destined to have a greatbearing on the future of the country. When Hanny could spare time from this exciting topic and her lessons, there was little Stevie, who was the sweetest and most cunning babyalive, she was quite sure. He could run all over, and say ever so manywords. The hard ones he had to shorten, so he called the little girlNan, and Dolly and Stephen caught it up as well. When they came over toFirst Street, the neighbourhood paid him the highest honours. All thechildren wanted to see him, and walk up and down with him. He was somerry, laughing at the least little thing, and chattering away in hisbaby language, with a few words now and then in good English. And, oh, delight! his hair curled all over his head, and had a golden gleam toit. Certainly, as a baby, he was a tremendous success. But the crowning point of this May was Hanny's birthday party. She wastwelve years old. Dolly and Margaret came down to spend the day andhelp. Oddly enough, Hanny knew very few boys. First, she thought shewould only have a girls' party. But there was Charlie, and some of herschoolmates had brothers; and Jim said he knew two splendid boys inschool that he would like to ask; and when they counted them up, theyfound there were plenty enough. They played games, of course, --pretty laughable things that had not goneout of fashion. And the supper-table was a feast to the eye as well asto the appetite. Toward the last, there were mottoes, and they had agood deal of fun in exchanging. Doctor Joe was as merry as any boy, infact, he laid himself out, as people say, to make the party a success, for Hanny would have been a timid little hostess. Dolly and Margaretwere not much behind. After they went upstairs some one proposed the Virginia Reel. The olderones were not long in taking their places. "Come, " said Doctor Joe to Daisy Jasper. "It's very easy. You will haveto learn some time. " "Will I surely have to?" and she gave an arch little smile. "Yes. You are to learn all the things girls do, even if you can drawportraits, which every girl can't do. " "Oh, no, " when she saw that he was in earnest; "I am afraid. And then, I--" "You are not to be afraid. " He put his arm about her and gently drew herout. "You are to be my partner. " Hanny stood second in the row, looking so bright and eager that she wasabsolutely pretty. And Jim's chum, the handsomest lad in the room, hadchosen her. When she saw Daisy, she wanted to run down and kiss her, shewas so delighted. What with braces, and several appliances, Daisy now had only oneshoulder that was a little high; and as she had grown stronger, shecould get about without much of a limp. She was quite tall for her age, and every gesture and motion was very graceful, in spite of themisfortune. She sometimes danced at school. Dolly struck up some merry music, and Stephen called off. How prettilythey balanced and turned, and joined hands left and right, and marcheddown and up again, and then the first couple chasséd down the middle!When it was Hanny's turn, she came down looking like a fairy, and smiledover to her friend. Daisy was a good deal frightened at first, and would have run away butfor Doctor Joe's encouraging eyes. However, when her turn came, she didvery well. By this time they were all so intent upon their own pleasureno one really noticed her. Oh, how jolly it was! After that some of the children tried the three-step polka, and found itvery fascinating. A little after ten, the plates of cream came in, andat half-past, they began to disperse. Stevie was asleep upstairs on Nan's bed. All the girls had to go andlook at him; and when Dolly picked him up, and bundled his cloak abouthim, and put on his cap, he only stretched a little and settled himself, being as famous a sleeper as some of his Dutch ancestors. But the girlshad to kiss him; and then he did wake up and laugh and rub his eyes withhis fat fist. Before Stephen had him settled on his shoulder, he wasasleep again. "Oh!" cried Hanny, "it's _his_ first party as well as mine. And when hegets old enough, I'll have to tell him all about it. " "Yes, " laughed his father. "His memory can hardly he depended upon now. " Jim's friend came to wish Hanny good-night, and say that he had enjoyedhimself first rate, --quite a boy's word then. And he added, "I thinkyour doctor-brother is the nicest man I ever met. If my mother is everill, I mean she shall have him. He is so sweet and kindly. And thatMiss Jasper is a beautiful girl!" Hanny flushed with delight. One day, not long afterwards, Mrs. Jasper took both little girls down toStewart's beautiful store at the corner of Chambers Street and Broadway. When the ladies were out for a promenade, they used to drop in and seethe pretty articles. It was the finest store in New York; kid-gloves andlaces were specialties, but there were no end of elegant silks and Indiashawls, which were considered family heir-looms when you became theowner of one. Some of the more careful business-men shook their heads doubtfully overthe young merchant's extravagance, and predicted a collapse presently. But he went on prospering, and even built another marble palace, and amarble dwelling-place for himself. Then the Reeds and the Underhills were full of interest in their boyswho were to pass examinations for Columbia College. Charles stood high, but he was rather nervous about it; and Jim never studied so hard in allhis life as the last three months. When there was any doubt, or evenwhen there wasn't, he pressed Joe into service. However, they both cameoff with flying colours. Charles was the best scholar, undoubtedly; butJim had a way of making everything tell in his favour. Miss Lily Ludlow had quite given Jim the cold shoulder; but now shesmiled upon him again. Her sister had married very well; but Lily hadquite resolved upon a rich husband. Still it would be something to havethe young and good-looking collegian in her train. Mrs. Jasper pleaded to take Hanny with them to Saratoga for a littlewhile; and Margaret said she and her husband would go up and spend aweek and bring her home. The Jaspers were to stay at a quiet cottage;and, after much persuasion, Mrs. Underhill consented, though she had anidea a fashionable watering-place was hardly proper for little girls;and her father was very loath to give her up even for a few weeks. To tell the truth, the little girl was rather homesick for a night ortwo. There was so much to see, so many drives and all; but she had neverbeen away alone before. And she did so miss sitting in her father's lap, and kissing him good-night. She was too big a girl of course; and onetime her mother asked her if she meant to keep up the habit when she wasa woman grown! She had not thought of being grown-up. And she wished she could stay alittle girl forever. Josie Dean was quite womanly already, and didn'twant to wear her hair in "pigtails" any more--indeed, quite frettedbecause her mother wouldn't let her put it up. But Tudie confessed toHanny "that she should be awful sorry when she was too big to play withdolls. " "I put my beautiful doll away the Christmas Stevie was born, " saidHanny. "Oh, well, if we had a big brother married, and a lovely little babylike that, I wouldn't mind so much. But Josie is going to study andteach, and--oh, dear! Hanny Underhill, you're just the luckiest girl Iknow. " And the Deans thought it another piece of luck that she should go toSaratoga. They went to Congress Hall, and drank some of the water that Hannythought just horrid. Daisy didn't like it very much; but it had provedbeneficial the summer before. And they used to watch the beautifullyattired ladies promenade the long piazza. Such lovely lawns andorgandies and embroidered white gowns; such laces and sashes andribbons! Every afternoon they were out in force. They promenaded up anddown the street too, with dainty parasols, and often times no bonnet, but a little square of lace with long lappets. One evening after Margaret and the Doctor came, they all went in to thehop to look on. Hanny thought the dancing a bewitching sight, and couldhave stayed up until midnight watching it. There were a good many quitefamous people whom Dr. Hoffman knew, and Hanny had seen on Broadway orup at Washington Square. Daisy was almost in despair at the thought of Hanny's return. Dr. Hoffman had promised to take a brother physician's practice when he wentaway to recuperate, so he felt that he really could not extend his staybeyond the week. "Oh, I do wish I had a sister!" groaned Daisy. "Auntie is very nice, andmamma is the sweetest mother in the world; but I like to have some onewho thinks real young thoughts. I don't want to be grown up andsensible, and take an interest in tiresome things. " "Let's just stay little, " laughed Hanny. "Twelve isn't so very old. " "But being in your 'teens' seems on the way to it. _You_ may staylittle; but see how tall I am getting. I grow like a weed. " Hanny gave a soft sigh. How curious to want to stay little, and feelsorry you were not getting big at the same time! When they returned to the city, Hanny found that Charles and his motherhad gone to the sea-side, out on Long Island. Mrs. Reed didn't seem toget strong. She had thought all along first she could soon do withoutCousin Jane; and to give her the opportunity Cousin Jane went away on alittle visit. But Mr. Reed sent for her ten days later. "I'm never going to be good for anything again!" Mrs. Reed saidfretfully. "Oh, yes, there are a good many useful things in the world beside work, "replied Mr. Reed. "You've done your share. Cousin Jane is splendid tohave around. Anyhow, I think we will keep her for awhile. " "You just go down on Great South Bay, and eat fish and clams, and havethe sea-breeze, " advised Cousin Jane. "The Seamens will board you veryreasonably. And Charles looks as if something of the kind wouldn't hurthim. He will have a pretty hard pull in college the first year, and heought to have some good backbone to start on. " It was very extravagant to go away to board when they were payinghouse-rent. And there had been a doctor's bill, and a nurse for threeweeks, and Cousin Jane-- "Never you mind, " said Mr. Reed, "I'm not anywhere near the poor-house. I've only you and Charles. He is going to be a credit to us if he keepshis health; but he does look rather pale and thin. You ought to go forhis sake. " The Reeds seemed insensibly to have changed places. It was Mr. Reed whogave the orders and suggested the plans, and Mrs. Reed who acquiesced. "You've worked steadily all your life, harder than I ever wanted youto, " continued her husband. "We had better take the good of what wehave, and let Charles earn his own money when it comes his time to work. And if you could improve a little, --at least I think it is your duty totry for both our sakes. It will be a sad thing if, when Charles takeshis degree, you are not here to congratulate him. " She was not anxious to die; very few people are. So she listened, andallowed herself to be over-ruled. She was really proud of her son'smanliness, though she would not have admitted it. They went off to staya fortnight, and both improved so much they remained a whole month. Janey and Polly Odell and another cousin came to visit Hanny, and had afine time seeing the city sights. Then Daisy came home, school began, and wonderful events were happening all the time. The old story of Eldorado repeated itself. Strange rumours ran aboutlike wildfire in meadow grass. A Captain Sutter was having his mill-raceon one of the forks of the Sacramento River deepened and repaired, whena workman accidently discovered a shining nugget that proved to be gold. Crowds flocked to the spot: men who had been in the army, adventurerswho had followed Frémont in his prospecting journeys; and they foundgold on every hand. When Congress opened, President Polk proudly announced the wealth of ournew possessions. It was Mexico and Peru over again. The Spaniards hadnot despoiled the whole earth. Men talked themselves up to fever-heat. Why plod along years making afortune, when here you could dig it out of the ground in a few months!As if wealth was the great and only good to mankind. Now, when one flies across the continent in a palace-car, it seemsstrange indeed to think of the long journey of these pilgrims to theland of Ophir, as it was called. The overland route, that across Mexico, or the isthmus, comprised the sail to Vera Cruz, and then up the Pacificcoast, and was costly. That around Cape Horn took five months. Yet menwere selling their property or business that they had been years inbuilding up, leaving their families, and hurrying off, promising to beback in a few years, millionaires perhaps. The Underhills were not seized with the mania. There were several othermatters that occupied their attention. John was to be married inJanuary, and to go in business with his employer, who would be hisfather-in-law. And in December, two granddaughters were added to thefamily. Hanny was quite dazed with the conflicting claims. Margaret's littlegirl had large dark eyes like Dr. Hoffman, and dark, silky hair; whileDolly's daughter was fair. Margaret's baby was really beautiful. But in her secret heart the little girl thought no baby in the worldcould ever be the sweet and joyful surprise that Stevie had been, --theChristmas gift to them all. Dr. Hoffman declared that he was reallyjealous that she should not transfer all her affections to his littledaughter. "He should not call her Haneran now. " "I should hope you wouldn't, " declared Hanny, mirthfully. "You ought toname her Margaret, and we could all call her Daisy. That's such acheerful, pretty name!" "But she won't be white and gold. She would have to be a Michaelmasdaisy. And we couldn't call her Pearl, with her dark eyes and hair. Still, I think Margaret one of the noblest and sweetest of names. " "I don't suppose any one will think Hannah a sweet name, " said thelittle girl, rather ruefully. "They all say--it's a _good_ name. But Idon't want to be just like Grandmother Van Kortlandt. When I am real oldI would rather be like Grandmother Underhill. " "Luckily, the names do not endow us with the natures. " In the end, it _was_ Margaret; and they called her Daisy, much to thelittle girl's delight. When Mrs. Jasper heard of the name, she sent hera beautiful pair of sleeve-pins. They were used to pin through theshoulders and sleeves of babies' dresses. It seemed then as if allbabies had beautiful fat necks, and pretty dimpled arms. Dolly's little girl was called Annette Dorothea; but her household namewas Annie. Little Stevie had come to grandmother's to stay a week or so. He cried alittle the first night for mamma. Hanny begged to have him put in herbed; and she sat and told him Mother Goose Melodies until he droppedasleep. He was such a sweet, cunning roly-poly, that she couldn't helpkissing him when she came to bed; and she longed to take him in her armsand hug him up; but she was afraid he might wake and cry. The next night he was quite ready to go to Nan's bed, and didn't cry abit. Hanny had a delightful time taking him round among the girls. Her mothersaid, "You and your father will have that child spoiled. " But Hannymight have turned the tables, if she had seen grandmother when she hadto be in school. As for Grandfather Underhill, he thought with Hanny there never had beensuch a smart and wonderful baby. Jim taught him some ratherreprehensible tricks. He was still full of fun and mischief, and alreadyhad a crowd of admirers in college. And, oh, how they missed the baby when he was gone! It didn't seem asif one little mite could fill the house; but it was big and empty now. John's courtship had not been so engrossing as Stephen's. They had metMiss Bradley, to be sure; and Mr. Bradley was a well-to-do man with twosons and one daughter who had been named Cleanthe, after the heroine ofa story Mrs. Bradley had read in her girlhood. Mr. Bradley had wantedhis daughter called Priscilla, after his mother; and Mrs. Bradley'smother's name was Jemima. "I did think Mimy and Silly two of the worst names in the world. Andthere isn't any nickname for Cleanthe, " was Mrs. Bradley's explanationwhen any one wondered at the name. Miss Cleanthe was a very nice, well-bred, rather conventional girl, withnone of Dolly's dash and spirit. She was a good housekeeper, and couldmake all but her best dresses. They were to take the second floor of Mr. Bradley's house, and set up their own home, until they felt rich enoughto indulge in a house owned by themselves. George came down about this time to spend a month. He was decidedlytired of farming. "Of course, if I wanted to marry and build on the old place, it wouldn'tbe so bad. Uncle Faid keeps in the same rut, and you can't shake him outof it. Barton Finch is the kind of man who begins with a great flourish, but flats out towards the end. I'm tired of them all!" "It will be your turn to marry next, " said his mother. "And then I'llseem quite a young woman with only three children. I _do_ suppose we'llgo up to Yonkers some time and spend our old age there; though I beginto think your father is weaned away. " George laughed. "Father seems about half Uncle Faid's age. And ateighty, you won't be as old as Aunt Crete. If I had lots of money, to doas I liked--but farming so near by doesn't amount to much. " The Germans and Swiss had to come in and show us about market-gardeningand floriculture. George went down-town with Stephen, and talked with Ben, and listened tothe groups on every corner discussing the golden land. He was young andstrong; why shouldn't he go and seek his fortune? Miss Bradley had a very nice evening wedding, with dancing and a supper. She was very well looking, but not as handsome as Margaret, or as prettyand piquant as Dolly. She did not seem to come close to their hearts, asDolly had; though Mrs. Underhill was very well satisfied, and knew shewould make John happy. John was a sort of solid, sober-going fellow, quite different from Steve and Joe. CHAPTER VII THROUGH THE EYES OF YOUTH Then George surprised everybody by his determination to go toCalifornia. "There are chances to make fortunes here, " declared Stephen. "With thecrowds going out there, and no homes and no provision made for them, there must be a good deal of suffering. The stories of gold are toofabulous for belief. " "I want to see something of the world. And all the countries on thePacific Coast are rich in gold and treasures. I wonder what the historyof the world would have been if that side had been settled first?" "The history of Mexico and Peru. Wealth and indolence and degeneration. And the East is nearer the commerce of the world. Oh, the old Pilgrimfathers didn't go so far out of the way!" laughingly. "And they went in the face of almost everything. We have a little oftheir love of adventure. I don't know as my heart is so set upon afortune. You wouldn't believe it; but I've wished myself that intrepidexplorer Frémont dozens of times. There is such a splendid excuse forgoing now. " At first, they were all strongly opposed. John told him to come and jointhem, and keep turning his money over in up-town real estate. Mrs. Underhill pleaded. She was very fond of having her children about her. But when he went down-town, and heard the exciting talk, and saw thevessels of every kind fitting out, he came home more resolved than ever. "And then we will build the house on that beautiful knoll, --a large, rambling, commodious place, big enough to take us all in, a refuge forour old age, " laughed George. They found he was not to be talked out of it. Ben was on his side, andnot only gave him encouragement, but offered to lend him a little moneyhe had saved up, and proposed to go shares with him. Indeed, it was a time of great excitement. The ship-yards on the EastRiver were veritable bee-hives; and morning, noon, and night the streetswere thronged with workmen. The clipper-ships began to astonish theworld, and the steamers to compete with those of England. The new treatywith China was opening possibilities of trade to that country. George decided to go by water to Vera Cruz. Round the Horn seemed toolong a journey for impatient youth. If he shouldn't like it, and shouldnot see any special prospect, he could come back the richer by hisexperience, if nothing else. People went to China. They often stayed twoyears in Europe. "Yes, " said Ben; "there's Mr. Theodore Whitney. He has had no end of agood time, and is in much better health then when he went away. " "And Frémont has gone through a great many hardships, and been in somebattles, and still lives, " added George, laughingly. "And some of thepeople in Yonkers died who had never been more than ten miles away fromhome. " Mrs. Underhill gave in, as mothers of big sons are often forced to do. Mr. Underhill was rather pleased with the boy's spirit. Doctor Joe feltthat it wasn't a bad thing altogether, and that it would be nice to havean authentic account of that wonderful country. So the last of March, George said good-bye to everybody. His father, Stephen, and Joe went down to see him off. It looked as if half thesailing-craft in the world were gathered in New York harbour. Right on the top of this, something happened that engrossed theattention of the younger members of the family. There had been adisturbance in Paris; the old Bonaparte faction coming to the fore, andLouis Philippe had fled from the throne to England. Napoleon Bonapartehad shattered the divine right of kings nearly forty years earlier. But the most startling link in the chain of events, was that LouisNapoleon, the son of Hortense Beauharnais and the once King of Holland, who, for fomenting one revolution, had been confined in the Fortress ofHam for life. He had escaped, and, with the prestige of the familyname, had roused the enthusiasm of France, and helped to form aRepublic. He was elected as one of the Deputies. Everybody was sayingthen the French were too volatile, and too fond of grandeur, to acceptthe democratic tendencies of a republic for any length of time. And theywondered if he would not follow in the steps of his famous uncle, andone day aim at a throne and an empire. Others hailed the step as a greatadvancement in the rights of the people, and thought it prefigured thatEurope would be republican rather than Cossack, recalling the elderEmperor's prediction. And Hanny learned that this young man, who was before long to be Emperorof the French, had lived in New York, as well as Louis Philippe. Joetook her down-town to the old Delmonico Restaurant, which was consideredquite elegant in its day, and had entertained many famous people. Here, the young fellow who had been the son of a king, and was now an exile, used to dine, and gather about him the flower of the fashionable world, as it was called. And Lorenzo Delmonico, who rarely went into hiskitchen now, would go and cook a dinner for this guest, who had the highart of persuasion in an eminent degree, it would seem. Afterward thePrince would entertain the other guests with curious tricks with cards, and conversation. Now his life bid fair to be almost as eventful as hisuncle's; and, like him, he was doomed to die an exile on English soil. Joe and Hanny took their dinner in the old place, though now theDelmonicos were fitting up a hotel at the lower end of Broadway whichwas destined to become quite as famous, and to house many notablepeople. She was so engrossed with reading and studying that sometimes she hardlyfound an hour for the babies. She and Daisy, like most very young girls, had a passion for poetry. Mrs. Sigourney they thought rather grave anddry; but Mrs. Hemans, with her soft flowing numbers and beautiful face, was a great favourite. Longfellow was beginning to be appreciated, andseveral other poets that one saw now and then on Broadway. There weresome pathetic poems by a Western writer, Alice Cary, that used to goquite to the little girl's tender heart. She had a wonderful memory forany rhythmic production, and used to say them over to her father. If shedidn't sit on his lap, --and her mother had almost laughed her out ofit, --she leaned her arms on his knee, or rested her head against hisshoulder, while her soft, sweet voice went purling along like, -- "A hidden brook In the leafly month of June. " The Dean girls did not care so much for poetry. They wanted stories; andstories and books were beginning to spring up on every hand. Miss DeliaWhitney was writing a novel. She had accomplished some successfulstories, and had one in "The Ladies' Book, " the pretty fashion magazineof the day. Poor deaf Aunt Clem had dropped out of life like a child going to sleep. Aunt Patty kept well and bright. Nora was growing up into a tall girl, and went to Rutger's Institute, though she confessed to Hanny, "She justhated all schools, and wouldn't go a day longer, only it was not quitethe thing to grow up an ignoramus. " And there was Frederica Bremer, a Swedish novelist, whose "Home orFamily Cares and Family Joys" was Hanny's delight. And Irving was evernew and bright. "Salmagundi" always amused her father so much. Therecent and delightful stories were the talk of every one. Daisy was not such a ravenous reader. She was quite taken up withpainting, and had done some very nice work in water-colours. She had adecided gift for catching resemblances, and had sketched some excellentlikenesses. She confided to Hanny that her ambition was to paintportraits on ivory. This spring a plan was mooted that almost rendered Hanny speechless. Mr. Jasper had some business connections abroad that needed his personalsupervision, and he proposed to take his family. Tours to Europe werenot a common occurrence then, and one could hardly run over for a sixweeks' trip. Daisy had improved so much that she was sure to enjoy it;and there were some German baths Doctor Joe thought he would like her totry. Italy had been the children's land of romance. But the Deans neverexpected to go; and Hanny was quite sure she should feel awfully afraidon the ocean. But Joe said some time when he had grown quite rich, andneeded a rest for his tired-out body and nerves, he and Hanny mightgo, --ten years hence, perhaps. It wasn't nearly so formidable when youlooked at it through the telescope of ten years; and Hanny could belearning French and German, and may be Italian. She had picked up a gooddeal of German already from Barbara, who had proved an excellent servantafter she had acquired American ways. The Jaspers would give up their house and store their choicestfurniture. Opposite, a great many foreigners were crowding in; and downbelow, Houston Street and Avenue A. Were filling up with them. We feltso large and grand then, with our great stretches of unoccupied land, that we invited the oppressed from everywhere. It was our boast that, -- "Uncle Sam was rich enough to give us all a farm. " Very good thrifty citizens many of them made; but some of the earlyexperiences were not so agreeable. And people were beginning to think"up-town" would be the choice for residences. Even Mr. Dean had a vagueidea of buying up there while property was cheap. Stephen and Margaretwere trying to persuade their parents to do the same thing. It would be dreadful to have Daisy go away for a whole year. When Daisyconsidered the point, it didn't seem as if she could leave all her girlfriends and her dear Doctor Joe. But the days passed on, and the passagewas taken. Mrs. Jasper asked the children in to a supper, which wouldhave been delightful, except for the thought that it was a farewellsupper. The table was spread in most artistic array; and Sam waited uponthe company. They tried very hard to be merry; but every little whilethey would all subside and glance at each other with apprehensive eyes. The grown people came in the evening. The most wonderful thing was thatMr. And Mrs. Reed were among the parents. Cousin Jane was still at theReeds'; and, as she was "handy" about sewing, she had altered Mrs. Reed's old-fashioned gowns, and made her some new ones. Mrs. Reed did not get real strong, and was troubled somewhat with acough when cold weather came on. But she lost her weather-beaten look, and did gain a little flesh. She was very presentable in her black-silkdress, with some lace at the throat and wrists that she had bought ather marriage. She wore a little black-lace head-dress with a few purplebows; and she admitted to Charles that the Jaspers were very finepeople, and she was sorry they were going away; but it would take a mintof money for a whole family to travel around like that. The Jaspers' house was then dismantled; but they were going to board forabout ten days. Hanny and Josie Dean went down to see the state-room andwish them _bon voyage_. Doctor Joe had given Mrs. Jasper counsel abouteverything that might happen to Daisy. Then the signal was given for all who were not going to return on shore. There were some tender kisses and tears; and Doctor Joe took both girlsby the arm and steadied them down the gang-plank. What a huge thing thesteamer looked! But it was nothing compared to the later ones. It was very lonesome. The night was pleasant, and Hanny sat out on thestoop with her father; but, whenever she tried to talk, somethingswelled up in her throat and made her feel like crying. But her fatherhugged her up close. She would always have him. It had not seemed so sad to have Nora go away; in fact they could seeher any time. And she had not loved Nora quite so well. She didn't loveany girl as she loved Daisy, and it seemed as if she could not live awhole year without her. They talked about it at school, and most of the girls envied her thesplendid journey. "I don't know as I would mind being a little lame, ifI could have such a beautiful face, and be taken everywhere, " said oneof the girls. But Hanny didn't want to be anybody else, if she had to give up her ownmother and father, and dear Joe and Ben and, oh, little darling Stevie. Just after this a black-bordered envelope came up from HammersleyStreet. Grandfather Bounett, who had been very feeble of late, had died. Hanny had seen him a number of times since her memorable introductoryvisit. Luella had been sent to boarding-school, and was quite toneddown, was indeed a young lady. Doctor Joe had made frequent visits, and the old gentleman had told himmany striking incidents of his life. Hanny used to think how queer thecity must have been in seventeen hundred, when people had a blackservant to carry the lantern so one could see to get about. She knew somuch of the early history now, --the Dutch reign and the British reignand the close of the war. Old Mr. Bounett looked like a picture in his handsome, old-fashionedattire; and he just seemed asleep. The large rooms and the hall werefull, and men were standing out on the sidewalk. He had rounded out thecentury. A hundred years was a long while to live. There were a numberof French people, and a chapter was read out of grandfather's well-wornFrench Bible. Somehow it was not a sorrowful funeral. It was indeed bidding him areverent God speed on his journey to the better land. About ten days afterward, they were surprised by a visit from the eldestmarried daughter, Mrs. French, whom Hanny had taken such a fancy toyears before. "I've come of a queer errand, " she explained, when they had talked overthe ordinary matters. "I want a visit from little Miss Hanny. I havebeen away with my husband a good many times since we first met, and nowhe has gone to China, and will be absent still a year longer. I amkeeping house alone, except as I have some nieces now and then stayingwith me. I want to take Hanny over on Friday, if I may, and she shallcome back in time for school on Monday morning. I have a great manycuriosities to show her. And perhaps some of her brothers will come overand take tea with us Sunday evening. " Hanny was a little shy and undecided. But her mother assented readily. She thought a change would do her good, as she had moped since Daisy'sdeparture. So it was arranged that Mrs. French should come on the ensuing Friday. Hanny almost gave out; but when the carriage drove up to the door, andMrs. French looked so winsome and smiling, she said good-bye to hermother with a sudden accession of spirits. They drove to Grand Street Ferry and crossed over on the boat. Williamsburg was a rather straggling place then. It was quite a distancefrom the ferry, not closely built up, though the street was long andstraight. At the south side of the house was an extra lot in a flowerand vegetable garden. The house was quite pretty, two stories with apeaked roof, and a wisteria going up to the top. There was a wide porchwith a hammock hung already. All the air was sweet with a great bed oflilies of the valley, --quite a rarity then. There was a long parlor, and then a music-room; in a sort of an ell, adining-room and kitchen; upstairs, two beautiful sleeping chambers and asmall sewing-room with a writing-desk and some book-shelves. Hanny felt as if she were entering an Oriental palace. The doorways andwindows were hung with glistening silk that had flecks of gold andsilver in it; and there were such soft rugs on the floor your feet wereburied in them. It was almost like a museum, with the queer tables andcabinets, and the curious fragrance pervading every corner. They went upstairs and took off their hats and capes, which were one ofthis spring's fashions. "This is my room, " explained Mrs. French. "And with the door open youwon't feel afraid in the guest-chamber. " "I have had to sleep alone since Margaret was married, " returned thelittle girl. "No, I am not afraid. " "I thought I would not ask any one else. I wanted you all to myself, "and Mrs. French smiled. "I have hosts of nieces and nephews. There wassuch a large family of us. " Hanny thought she would rather be the only guest now. She was quitefascinated with Mrs. French. She bathed her face and brushed her hair. She had brought a pretty whiteruffled apron. The little girls didn't wear black-silk aprons now; butthey were taught to be careful of their clothes, and I think they werequite proud of their pretty aprons. Hanny's had dainty little pocketsand a pink bow on each one. The frocks were made shorter, and the pantalets kept them company. Allthat was really proper now, was a row of fine tucks and a ruffle, or anedge of needlework. There was some fine imported French needlework, muchof it done in convents; but nearly every lady did it herself, and it wasquite a great thing for a little girl to bring out her work and show itto aunts and cousins. No one dreamed then that there would be machinesto make the finest and most exquisite work, and save time and eyesight. Hanny looked very sweet and pretty in her pink lawn and white apron. Herhair was braided in the two tails that every little girl wore who hadnot curly hair. On grand occasions, Hanny's was put in curl-papers, andit made very nice ringlets, though it was still a sort of flaxen brown. But then she was fair, rather pale a good deal of the time. She flushedvery easily though. There was an expression of trustful innocence thatrendered her very attractive, without being beautiful like Margaret. "Come and let us walk about the garden, " said Mrs. French. "It is lightenough to see the roses. They are my especial pride. " Hanny took the outstretched hand. She could not have explained it, butshe did feel happy and at home with Mrs. French. There was agraciousness about her that set one at ease. At the side was a long porch with curtains that rolled up when they werenot needed for shade. At the front of the garden, there was considerableyoung shrubbery, then an arrangement of beds; the centre one, which wasa circle, was filled with the most beautiful roses. The middle wasraised somewhat, mound shape, with the dark red roses, then growing alittle paler to pure rose-colour and pink, tea-rose with the salmontint, and a border of white. And, oh, how fragrant! Beside this bed there were others in clusters, and one clump in anexquisite yellow. "Some of them have been great travellers, " said Mrs. French. "There areroses from Spain, from France and Italy. " Hanny opened her eyes very wide, and then she looked at them again insurprise. "Oh, how could you get them?" she asked. "I brought them from their homes. You see I have been quite a traveller, also. " The child drew a long breath. "Did you go with Captain French?" sheinquired. "Yes. When we were first married, his vessel traded in the Levant, andbrought back fruits and silks and shawls and nuts, and ever so manythings. After that we went to India, Calcutta. We took one of mysisters, and she married an English merchant, and has been home onlyonce since then. " "Oh, I shouldn't like Margaret to live in Calcutta, " the little girlsaid, startled. Mrs. French smiled. "Then we were away almost four years. We went to theChinese ports as well, and to some of the curious islands. We took acargo of tea to London. " "I know a little girl who has just gone to London, and who is to go onto Germany to take some special kind of baths. She is my very dearfriend. " "Is she ill?" "She is a great deal better now. When we first knew her, she couldn'twalk but a few steps. She was in the hospital where my brother used togo when he was first a doctor. Then she came to live in our street. " "With her parents?" "Oh, yes. She has one aunt, but no brothers or sisters. It must seemstrange not to have any, " and Hanny glanced up. "It would be strange to me. I had ten in all, and there is only onedead. Eugene is the oldest of the second family. One married brotherlives in Baltimore, one only a short distance from here. And you havesix brothers, --a good supply for one little girl. " "I suppose some of them belong to Margaret, " and she gave a soft, rippling laugh. "We haven't ever divided them up. But Joe belongs to me. When I get to be a woman, and he has a good big practice, I am going tokeep house for him. " "But what will your father do?" "Why--" Hanny had not considered that point. "Oh, it won't be in a longwhile! And then father will be old, and he will come and live with us, Ithink. Dolly says she is going to have mother. " Mrs. French thought the division rather amusing. "Where is Captain French gone now?" "To China again. He has been going back and forth to Liverpool; but hehad an excellent offer for the long trip. I concluded not to go, grandpa was so old and feeble. And my sister is coming to England tolive. Her husband is heir now to a fine estate and a title; and theyhave quite a family of children. " "Then you will want to go to England to see her, " said Hanny. "Indeed, I shall. I have not seen her in seven years; since the time shewas here. " "We all liked Mr. Eugene so much, " Hanny remarked. "And Luella has grownso, I hardly knew her. " "They have a trick of growing up. I hope you won't be in any hurry. " "I am small of my age, " and Hanny gave a soft sigh. "It will take you a long time to get as large as your mother. " Hanny wasn't sure that she wanted to be quite so large. Yet she didn'treally want her mother changed. And, oh, she wouldn't have her as thinas Mrs. Reed for all the world! They had been walking around the paths that were clean and solid as afloor. What beautiful plants and flowers there were! Strange things, too, that Hanny had never seen before. Then the tea-bell rang, and theycame up to the rose garden, where Mrs. French broke off several partlyopened buds and pinned them on the little girl's bodice. The dining-room windows opened on the porch, and they walked in thatway. It had a great beaufet with carved shelves and brackets goingnearly up to the ceiling, and full of the most curious articles Hannyhad ever seen. Then there was a cabinet in the corner containing rareand beautiful china. The table was small and dainty, oval, with a vaseof flowers at the ends; and the two sat opposite each other, while atidy young coloured girl waited upon them. Hanny felt as if she was part of a story; and she tried to recallseveral of her heroines who went visiting in some curiously eleganthouse. It was different from the Jaspers, from anything she had everseen, and there was a subtle fragrance about it that made her feeldreamy. CHAPTER VIII GOING VISITING "Don't you want to tell me about your little friend?" Mrs. French saidwhen she had put Hanny in the hammock, and hedged her about with silkencushions. She sat in a willow rocker that Hanny thought quite asfascinating as the hammock. "Oh, yes, " and Hanny smiled brightly, and, like a true biographer beganat the beginning, the first time the children had seen Daisy, with herlong golden curls and pallid face, like a snow-drift. And how Doctor Joehad been in the hospital when she had the operation performed. "Poor little thing!" exclaimed Mrs. French. "And now there is somethingthey can use that gives a blessed unconsciousness, and when you wake upthe worst of the pain is over. I do not know how any one could enduresuch torture. " "Joe said she was very brave, though she fainted several times. Andshe's growing straight and tall, and her hair curls lovely again. I havealways wished my hair curled naturally. It just twists a little at theends, but won't make ringlets. " People in those days curled their hair a great deal; but they had to putit in papers. Patent curlers, like a great many other things, had notbeen invented. When you wanted to be very fine, you went to thehair-dresser's. The real society ladies had some one come to the houseto "do" their hair; and sometimes it was very elaborate. Mrs. French thought curly hair would not improve the little girl. Therewas something charming in her very simplicity, and her hair was likefloss silk. As she told about Daisy she detailed bits of neighbourhood life, anddescriptions of the other children. Mrs. French heard about John RobertCharles and his mother. "But she's so different now. She is not real strong any more; and thenCharles is such a big boy, and goes out with his father. It's queer, butJim and he are great friends, and Jim goes over there to study withCharles. Mrs. Reed did not use to like boys; and Jim is so full of funand pranks, mother calls them, and he knows so many funny stories!Mother tries very hard not to laugh at them; but she can't always helpit. " The evening passed so quickly that it was bed-time before either of themrealised it. Mrs. French took the large square pillows off the bed, andlaid one of the silken spreads over the footboard. How beautiful andsoft they were, with great flowers so natural it seemed as if you couldpick them up! And the fragrance was so delicate and puzzling: one momentyou thought it violets, then it suggested roses and lilies and the smellof newly cut grass. Mrs. French kissed her, and said if she felt strange in the night tocall her; but she was asleep in five minutes, and never woke until quitein the morning, it was so much more quiet than in First Street. When she did sit up in the bed and glance around, she had a queerfeeling that she was a part of a fairy story, like the white cat in herenchanted palace, waiting for the Prince, or perhaps Psyche, blown fromthe hill-top to her beautiful place of refuge, where she found and lostLove, and had to do many hard tasks before she could regain him. She was quite sure, an hour or two later, that she _was_ in someenchanted realm. There were such queer things, --some beautiful, and someshe thought very ugly, especially the grotesque idols. "I couldn't believe a god like that had any power. And I am sure Icouldn't worship him, " Hanny said emphatically. "They beat their gods sometimes and break them to pieces, and go off andget new ones. It seems very singular to us. " The little girl had been deeply interested in Judson, the missionary toBurmah. There had been a good deal of romance about his last marriage, to "Fanny Forester, " who wrote tales and sketches and poems, and hadmade herself quite a name for brightness and gay humour, and then hadsurprised her friends by going to India as a missionary's wife. And sheknew Bishop Heber's beautiful poem to his wife all by heart, and oftensang "From Greenland's icy mountains. " So she had a feeling that she didknow something about India. But Mrs. French had really been there, and spent two months at Bombay, and almost six months at Calcutta. There were so many gorgeousthings, --silks, and bright stuffs with threads of gold, jackets allembroidery, and queer Eastern dresses, two made of pineapple cloth, --asheer, beautiful fabric, --and one had delicate flowers embroidered insilk. But the oddest of all, Hanny thought, was burning incense. Mrs. Frenchhad several curious incense bowls and jars. She lighted one, and in alittle while the room was filled with an indescribable fragrance and ahazy purplish air. "They burn incense in the Roman Catholic churches. Joe took us oneEaster Sunday. It was very strange, I thought. And a little boy swungthe--something--" "Censer. " "Oh, yes, censer. And the singing was beautiful. But we couldn'tunderstand the prayers; Joe said they were Latin. I suppose he couldfollow them. " "No doubt; I have attended some very grand services in churches abroadand in England. " The incense burned out presently, and they went downstairs to dinner. Afterward, a niece and nephew, her brother's children, came. The girlwas not quite twelve, but most a head taller than Hanny, who felt rathershy with her. The boy was older still, and his name was Harold, whichsuggested to Hanny the last of the Saxon kings. But he was very dark, and didn't look like a Saxon, she thought. Mrs. French sent to the livery and ordered a carriage, and they all wentto drive. Hanny was quite conversant with upper New York and WestchesterCounty; but she had only been once to Brooklyn. It had quite a countryaspect then; but there were beautiful drives, and Greenwood Cemetery hadalready some extremely handsome monuments. There was something about Eva Bounett that suggested Lily Ludlow, andkept Hanny from liking her cordially. She laughed at so many things, made fun of them; and Hanny wondered if she was criticising her, andwould laugh at her when she returned home. Now and then, Mrs. French would remark, "Don't, Eva, that is not a nicething to say. " Still she was bright, and at times Hanny had to laugh. She found so many Dickens' people along the streets; and really they didlook like the pictures by Cruikshank. And one tall fierce old woman, with wisps of hair hanging about her neck, and an old torn shawl, whowas brandishing her arms and talking wildly, she said was Meg Merrilies. The children remained to tea, and Harold played and sang some verypretty songs afterward. "But you ought to hear our sister Helen, " declared Eva. "She sings inchurch, and sometimes at concerts; she's just magnificent. She'snineteen now. And Mary has a good voice; while I sing like a crow! Doyou do any of the fine things, --draw or paint? I take music lessons; butI make my teacher's hour vexation of spirit, not vanity, " and she gave asatisfied kind of laugh. "I study music and French. I embroider and crochet--" "I hate sewing; I'd like to be a man and a sea-captain. Uncle French isjust magnificent; I hope he will take me to sea sometime; I'm not a bitsick; are you?" "I have never been to sea, " replied Hanny. "Well, just a little ways; I've been down to the Fishing Banks; and it'sawful rough. And last summer we were at Great South Bay, and went out ina yacht; and I learned to row. At all events, I mean to marry asea-captain; and I'll just go with him every time. " One of the older brothers dropped in for the children. Eva was veryeffusive in her good-bye, and kissed Hanny, and said she must surelycome to see her. Hanny felt quite relieved when she was alone again with Mrs. French, whotalked of Helen and Mary, and seemed to admire them very much. "But Idon't know what they will do with Eva. My half-sister, Luella, was justsuch a noisy harum-scarum; but she had only boys to play with. Now, sheis getting to be a nice lady-like girl. " Hanny recalled two visits in Hammersley Street when Luella had kept herin a fright all the time. They went to church Sunday morning, and heard Helen Bounett sing. It wasvery fine and moving. Hanny wished Charles could hear her. About mid-afternoon, as they were sitting on the front piazza, which wasshady now, Hanny espied her two brothers. Why, Ben was quite as tall asJoe! He looked more like Stephen; but Joe was _very_ good-looking. She flew down to meet them, and gave one hand to each brother. "Oh, " she cried joyfully, "I've had a lovely time! I've been to Indiaand China; and I've had incense and ginger preserve, and some beautifulsilks to take home, and a pineapple handkerchief, and a ginger-jar; andI haven't been a bit homesick. " Mrs. French was watching the eager little face that looked so pretty inits enthusiasm of love. Doctor Joe stooped and kissed her; Ben waiteduntil he was up on the porch. They were very cordially welcomed. Mrs. French said she was afraid apatient would come to hand at an inopportune moment. "The city is desperately healthy, " returned Joe, laughingly. "That's ayoung doctor's experience. When I am wrinkled and grey-haired, I shallprobably tell a different story. " "What do you think I have?" turning to Hanny. "A letter from Mr. Jasper. A steamer was just going out, so he sent a few lines. " He handed it to her while he resumed his conversation with Mrs. French. Hanny devoured it with a thrill. A letter from across the ocean! They had a very pleasant journey, with only one storm worth mentioning. Mrs. Jasper, who had dreaded sea-sickness, had only a slight attack. Aunt Ellen was ill four days, and Daisy a whole week. Once they werequite alarmed about her. But her recovery was more rapid than they hadexpected; and now they were all well, and the ladies would write more atlength. An ocean voyage was quite an undertaking then. Some people of leisurewent by a packet, which took three weeks, occasionally longer. It was very odd to think of Daisy Jasper in England. But how many timesMrs. French had come home safely. Of course they must go out and see the flowers: the beautiful red rosewhose mother, or grandmother, had come from the Escurial at Madrid; anda real English hawthorn, from Windermere, just out of bloom now; andseveral valuable and curious foreign plants, quite common at this day. At the southern end there was a conservatory for the housing of the moredelicate ones. Ben was wonderfully interested with the indoor curiosities, and a caseof stuffed birds, the like of which he had never seen. They had a littlemore incense too, and opened jars of rare perfume that was nobody knewhow many years old. There were some Chinese paintings on finetransparent silk, and ivory carvings that were enough to puzzle themost astute brain. Ben thought he would like to spend at least a monthover them. Supper-time came too soon. Mrs. French said she had enjoyed every momentof Hanny's visit, and hoped to have her a whole week in the summervacation, and the young men must feel they would be welcome any time. "I've just been crowded full of delight, " exclaimed Hanny, with hergood-bye kiss. It was quite a walk down to the ferry; then they had their sail across. How still and tranquil everything seemed! When they reached the city, people were going to church, and a few last bells were ringing. Theywalked leisurely up Grand Street; and, at the junction of East Broadway, Joe said he would run up to the office to see if he was needed foranything. Then Ben and Hanny kept on. There were a good many privateresidences in Grand Street, but the stores were creeping along. Alreadythey began to show foreign names, and on some stoops a whole Jewishfamily would be sitting with their black-eyed children. And so many ofthem had such beautiful curling hair that it made Hanny sigh. Across Norfolk Street to Houston, and a turn in their own First Street. Mr. Underhill had walked down to the corner, and was sauntering about. He was very glad to get his little girl home and hear about the goodtime. A fortnight later, the little girl had a letter from Daisy Jasper, allto herself. They had gone straight up to London on account of business, and were at a hotel; but it was all so queer and unlike New York. Shecertainly did like her own city best. But there would be so many thingsto see; not the least among them would be the Queen and Prince Albert, and the royal children, who were often out driving, and the Mall and theRow, and the palaces, and the Tower, and the great British Museum! Daisythought, if she went everywhere, it would take a whole lifetime. She wasbeginning to feel very well; but she admitted that she was awfullyseasick, and that it was "horrid. " She wanted Hanny, and dear DoctorJoe. And Hanny must tell her about everybody in the street. She must getsome thin foreign paper, so the postage wouldn't cost so much. For then postage was regulated by the distance, and we had nointernational union. I think we were doing without a good many usefulthings; yet the older generation professed to believe there was so muchluxury and ease that people would be soon demoralised. Jim had rather fallen behind, with all his fun and nonsense, and wasstudying day and night. He wasn't going to have Charley Reed get so farahead of him! Examinations were coming on, and he didn't want any one tobe ashamed of him, neither did he want to be conditioned. The little girl was studying very hard also, and reading a great deal. She had taken up the wonderful things of London that had beenaccumulating year by year. She had thought New York was getting quiteancient, but, oh, dear! England had been colonised by Julius Cæsar, andwas a country with a government even before that. There was no one to go out with, and she was too old to play. Lastsummer, they had gone around with Daisy in her wheeling-chair, and foundso many amusing incidents, beside being out of doors in the vivifyingair and sunshine. Josie Dean was almost a young lady, so tall that shewore her hair in a French twist, with a pretty silver comb, which was asmuch a girl's ambition as the big shell comb had been her mother's. AndTudie was just crazy over worsted work. She was doing a pair of coversfor large ottomans, and then meant to go at the back and seat for adaintily carved reception-chair. There were some nice schoolmates wholived up above Mrs. Craven's; but they seldom came down to First Street. And as the little girl never complained, no one seemed to notice thatshe grew pale and thin, until one day Mrs. Underhill exclaimed:-- "Mercy me! What is the matter with that child! She looks like a ghost. " "She never does have red cheeks except when she is excited, " said herfather. "But she has fallen away. " "Too hard study and too much staying in the house, " said Doctor Joe. "But I _must_ study one week more, " declared the little girl. "I'm goingto have a beautiful French exercise, "--they didn't always adapt theiradjectives to the fine shades of meaning, --"and I'm at the head inhistory. I want to get in the senior grade. I feel well, only tired, andmy head aches sometimes. " Doctor Joe examined her pulse and nodded. "I'll give you the week, " he said; but her heart went up to her throat. What if he had _not_ given her the week! They all came off with flying colours. Charles's Latin was the finest;but he had been studying it several years. Jim's essay won him muchpraise. And the little girl achieved her heart's desire. She was in thesecond grade of the seniors, and would graduate in two years. They had hardly decided what to do with her; but one day Mrs. Odell camedown with Polly, who had cheeks like roses and was fat as a seal, hermother said. "You just let her come up and stay awhile with us, and drink buttermilk, and run out of doors and play in the hay. She's lived in the city longenough for a country girl, and she wants a change to freshen up herblood. She's fairly blue, she's so white. " "That wouldn't be a bad idea, " rejoined Mr. Underhill. "We could driveup every few days and see her. " Mrs. Underhill looked up much interested. Margaret was engrossed with her baby, and then she went out drivingevery day, though they did talk of going away for a week the last of thesummer. She was very fond of having her little sister visit her, andHanny enjoyed the talks about books and the delightful people theHoffmans were always meeting. All the Beekman daughters were going to stay awhile at the farm anddiscuss the settlement of the estate. The city authorities were to cuttwo streets through it in the early autumn. They had a very fair offerfor the house, from a second or third cousin who fancied he wanted apart of the old family estate. The ground, of course, was too valuablefor farming purposes. Annette's husband, who was in a shipping firm thenon Water Street, preferred living down-town. So Mrs. Beekman would keepthe old city house, and they would live together. Dolly proposed to take the little girl, for there would be a largeout-of-doors. "There are too many grown people, " declared Doctor Joe. "She's too oldherself, and too anxious for knowledge of all kinds. She wants to runand play with children. We must keep her a little girl as long aspossible, and not bother her brains with the wisdom of the ages. Sendher up to West Farms. As Father says, we can see her every few days. " That settled the matter. Father Underhill did not care to give her upanyhow, and he was best pleased with this plan. Mrs. Underhill imaginedshe had so many things to do, as mothers of households did in thosedays, and somehow she did not like to hurry Hanny about as she hadMargaret. There really was not so much sewing. Joe insisted uponordering his shirts made; and Margaret had sent Ben half-a-dozen forChristmas. Then Barbara was very efficient, and, with true Germanthrift, improved every moment. She insisted on darning the stockings andknitting the woollen ones for winter. She was also a very neat hand atsewing. Mrs. Underhill had learned another lesson in her city life. There were agood many poor people who really needed work, and she found it a muchwiser plan to give them employment and pay them for it, and advise themto lay in coal and various other matters for winter. She was not astingy woman; but she did not believe in confirming people in indolenthabits. Martha came often to see them; and at times she felt almost jealous ofBarbara. But she had a very pleasant home, and her stepchildren provedtractable. She did a good deal of church work, and through her Mrs. Underhill heard of really worthy poor people. Hanny wasn't a bit enthusiastic about going to West Farms. "Janey and Polly seem so childish, " she said to her brother Joe. "And you are getting to be a little old woman. We don't want you to turnold and grey before your time, and have to wear spectacles and allthat. " "But I can see the least little thing, " protested the child, earnestly. "And if I do go, can't I take my 'Queens of England' with me? I had somany lessons that I couldn't read them as I wanted to. " Margaret had sent the volumes to her for a birthday gift. She had justskimmed through them, and was saving them up for her leisure time. Everybody was talking about them, and recommending them to girls. MissStrickland certainly knew how to interest readers. Doctor Joe shook his head, with a sort of mirthful regret which couldn'thelp but soothe the disappointment a little. "I don't want you to read or to study, but just run out in the sunshineand get fat. If we have such a poor pale little thing in our family, people will wonder if I really am a good physician. " He looked so grave, not a bit as if he was "making fun, " that she gave asort of sighing assent. "If you get real homesick, you need not stay more than a fortnight. Butthere is a good deal to learn out of doors. There are trees and wildflowers and birds. I'll come up now and then and take you out driving. " "I shall like that. I suppose I may write to Daisy Jasper?" she returnedwith a flash of spirit. "You see I want to know about London, andBerlin, and ever so many places, so that I won't seem like an ignoramuswhen she comes back. " "You will have all winter to learn about them. " Then he kissed her andwent off about his own business. She had to go and say good-bye to Stevie, who was just too sweet foranything, and Annie, and dark-eyed Daisy Hoffman. CHAPTER IX ANNABEL LEE It was queer up at West Farms, delightful, too. The house was old, witha hall through the middle, and a Dutch door just as there was up atYonkers. The top part was opened in the morning, sometimes the wholedoor. The front room was the parlour, and it had not been refurnishedsince Mrs. Odell came there as a bride; so it looked rather antiquatedto modern eyes. The back room was the sleeping chamber; on the otherside, a living room with rag carpet on the floor; then a kitchen and agreat shed-kitchen, one side of which was piled up with wood. There wasa big back stoop that looked on the vegetable garden; there was anorchard down below, and then cornfields and meadows. The old house was what was called a story and a half. The pointed roofhad windows in the end, but none in the front. There were two nice bigchambers upstairs, and a garret. Mr. Odell began to talk about buildinga new house; and Mrs. Odell said the things--by which she meant thecarpets and furniture--were good enough for the old place, but they'dhave all new by the time the girls grew up, to fit the new house. Mr. Odell had a peach-orchard and a quince-orchard, and two long rows ofcherry-trees. Then he kept quite a herd of cows, and sold milk. He had asplendid new barn, with two finished rooms in that, where the handsslept in summer. The old barn was devoted to the hay and the horses. There were chickens and ducks and geese, and a pen of pigs. This summer, they were raising three pretty calves and one little colt, who wasdesperately shy. But the calves would come up to be patted, and eat outof your hand. Both of the girls were what their mother called regular tomboys. Pollywas a few months older than the little girl, and Janey two years hersenior. They were smart too. They could wash dishes and make beds andsweep, weed in the garden, look after the poultry; and Janey could ironalmost as well as her mother. But they did love to run and whoop, andtumble in the hay, and they laughed over almost everything. They werenot great students, though they went to school regularly. A second or third cousin lived with the Odells, and did a great deal ofthe housework. She was not "real bright, " and had some queer ways. Herimmediate relatives were dead; and the Odells had taken her from afeeling of pity, and a fear lest at last she would be sent to thepoor-house. She had an odd way of talking incoherently to herself, andnodding her head at almost everything; yet she was good-tempered andalways ready to do as she was told. But the worst was her lack ofmemory; you had to tell her the same things everyday, --"get her startedin the traces, " Mr. Odell said. Mrs. Odell put a cot in the girls' room for Hanny, since there wasplenty of space. And Polly seemed to find so many funny stories to tellover that Hanny fell asleep in the midst of them, and woke up in themorning without a bit of homesick feeling. Then Mr. Odell was going tothe mill, and he took Polly and Hanny along, and they had a ratheramusing time. Hanny was very much interested in the process, and amazed when she foundhow they made the different things out of the same wheat. They used"middlings" for pancakes at home, when her mother was tired ofbuckwheat. Not to have had griddle-cakes for breakfast would have beenone of the hardest trials of life for men and boys through the winter. It warmed them up of a cold morning, and they seemed to thrive on it. Mr. Odell was very willing to explain the processes to Hanny. Pollywanted to know if she thought of going into the milling business, andsuggested that she never would be big enough. Then they ran round tolook at the water-wheel and the little pond where the stream was dammedso there would be no lack of water in a dry time. They had a drawing pattern in school just like it, except that it lackedthe broken rustic bridge a little higher up. She would take a newinterest in drawing it now. It was noon when they reached home, and Hanny felt real hungry, thoughMrs. Odell declared she didn't eat more than a bird. She was glad hergirls were not such delicate little things. They went out on the shady back stoop afterward. Janey was sewing theover-seam in a sheet that her mother wanted turned. When she hadfinished, and picked out the old sewing, she was free. Then she saidthey would go down to the Bristows' and have a good game of hide andseek. They always had such fun at the Bristows'. Polly brought out her basket of carpet-rags, --a peach basket nearlyfull. "I just hate to sew carpet-rags!" she declared. "Couldn't I help you?" asked Hanny. "Why, to be sure you _could_, if you would, and knew how to sew. " "Of course I know how to sew, " said Hanny, rather affronted. "Oh, I was only in fun! I'll find you a thimble. It's in my work-boxthat was given me on Christmas. It's real silver, too. Mother's going tochange it when she goes to New York, only she never remembers. Myfingers are so fat. Oh, Hanny, what a little mite of a hand! It'll neverbe good for anything. " "I have made a whole shirt myself, and I have hemstitched, and doneembroidery, and I wipe dishes when I haven't too many lessons, "interposed the little girl. "You can't make your own frocks, " in a tone of triumph. "No. Miss Cynthia Blackfan comes and does it. Can you?" "No, she can't, " said Janey, while Polly threw her head back andlaughed, showing her strong white teeth. "And she could no more make ashirt than she could fly. You're real smart, Hanny. I'm two years older, and I've never made a whole one. I'm going to try though, and father'spromised me a dollar when I do it all by myself. " Polly had found the thimble. It wasn't any prettier than Hanny's, thoughPolly begged her "to be real careful and not lose it. " "Now you can just sew hit or miss; and then you can put in a long stripof black, 'cause there's more black than anything else. Oh, dear, I dohate to sew rags!" "What kind of sewing do you like?" asked Janey, in a tone that wouldhave been sarcastic in an older person. "I just don't like any kind. Hanny, do _you_ know that some one hasinvented a sewing-machine?" and Polly looked up with the triumph ofsuperior wisdom. "Oh, yes, I saw it at the Institute Fair. And there's a place onBroadway where a woman sits in the window and sews. It's very queer; butwe think it doesn't sew real nice. " Polly was for the moment nonplussed. Hanny _did_ seem to know almosteverything. Then curiosity overcame her. "Does it do really and truly sewing?" "Why, yes. When you come down, I'll ask Joe to take us over to see it. " "Carpet-rags?" "Well--I don't know. Long straight seams, and hems and stitching. " "Well, I'm going to have one when I'm married. I wonder if they costvery much!" "There'll be lots of things for you to do before you are married. Andsome girls don't have any chance. You'll want to know how to keephouse--" "I like housekeeping. You just go from one thing to another. I'll havesome one to cook and peel potatoes and all that. And we'll keep a horseand waggon, and I shall go to ride every day. " Janey laughed. "Just now, you had better sew carpet-rags. " "And I'll never have any rag carpets. I will give away all the oldclothes. " "I'm afraid you'll never have much of anything, nor a husband either, Polly Odell, " said her mother. "You talk, and leave the rags for Hannyto sew. " Polly turned scarlet, and sewed very industriously. "I'd like to see a sewing-machine, " began Janey, presently. "How does itgo?" "There is a strap around a wheel that is fast to a frame. You put yourfeet on, so, and just make them go up and down after you have startedthe wheel with your hand. The needle goes through, and something catchesthe thread, then it goes through again, and that makes the stitch. It isvery curious. " "You know a good many things, don't you, Hanny?" said Janey, admiringly. Hanny coloured. "I can beat her all out running, I know; and I'll bet a penny she can'tjump over the creek. " "And don't you dare her to, Polly. Remember how you fell in. Oh, Hanny, she was a sight to behold!" "Well--it had been raining, and the ground was soft, so I slipped alittle on the start. But I've done it time and again. " "And you're a regular tomboy. Girls don't train around that way in thecity. " Janey had begun to rip out the old seam. She sighed a little, and wishedshe was sewing carpet-rags. That was such easy work. "Hanny sews a great deal faster than you, " she said to Polly. "See whata pile she has. I will wind them up. " It made quite a ball, and was a little rest from the ripping, thatsounded so easy and yet was tedious. But Janey persevered, and finally, after turning about a time or two, came to the middle with a sigh ofrelief. Polly had been working like a steam-engine for ten minutes, andpicked out a good many long pieces, so she had a ball as large asHanny's. Then they put on their sun-bonnets, and ran down to the Bristows', whichwas in the turn of the road. There were three girls, --one of nine whowas almost as big as Hanny, and the one of eleven, much taller. They all had a good drink of buttermilk: Mrs. Bristow had just beenchurning. Then they went out to the barn and played "hide-and-seek, " andhad a noisy, jolly time. They sat down and fanned themselves with theiraprons, and presently started out for some blackberries. "There's a German settlement down below, and the children are up hereevery day picking berries. You can't have anything now, unless it isplanted in your own garden. We have some lovely big blackberries, whenthey get ripe. " Then the girls ran a race. Hanny was out of breath presently, andstopped, so did little Kitty Bristow. But Julie Bristow beat in therace. Polly wanted to run again; but the others were tired. Mrs. Bristow gave Janey a beautiful, big pot-cheese to take home; and itwas just delicious. One of the cousins from Fordham had been down. The children were all tocome up and spend the day to-morrow, and Mrs. Odell was invited tosupper. Hanny felt a little lonely. If she could just see her father and Joe, and her mother and the boys. But she slept very soundly; and truly shewasn't homesick when they all came to breakfast in the morning. Janeyhurried around and did her work, and they were soon ready to be off. Aday meant all day, then. It was a pretty country walk, with here and there a house, and onelittle nest of Irish emigrants. Some of the women had their wash-tubsout of doors, and were working and gossiping. Then there was St. John'sCollege, with its pretty, shady grounds, and on the other side a hotelwhere the trains stopped as they went up and down. After that, youclimbed a long hill that wound a little, and on one side there was a rowof beautiful, stately cherry-trees that were a sight to behold in theirearly bloom and in the rich harvest of fruiting. Just at the brow of the hill stood a rather quaint house, with the endto the street. It was built against the side of the hill. You ascended arow of stone steps, and reached the lower floor, which was a dining-roomwith a wide stone-paved area, then you went up several more steps to acheerful sunny room, and this was the kitchen. When you went upstairsagain, one side of the house was just even with the ground, and theother up a whole story. Here was a parlour, a sitting-room, severalsleeping chambers; but what the little girl came to love most of all wasa great piazza built over the area downstairs, with a row of wide steps. When you were up there, you were two stories above the street, and youcould look down the long hill and all about. It was a beautifulprospect. Afterward, the little girl found some chalets in Switzerlandthat made her think of this odd house that had been added to since thefirst cottage was built. There was always a host of people in the old house. Hospitality musthave been written on its very gates, for relatives, unto the third andfourth generation, were continually made welcome: a sweet, placidgrandmother who had seen her daughter, the housemother, laid away to hersilent resting-place, and who had tried to supply her place to thechildren; the father; the aunt who took part of the care; the sons anddaughters, some of whom had grown up and married, and whose childrenmade glad the old home. There was a houseful of them now; but there was a wide out-of-doors forthem to play in. A few hundred feet farther up, where the road turnedand ran off to Kingsbridge, as well as to the Harlem River, stood thevillage smithy; and the Major, who had been in the War of 1812, hadrelegated the business mostly to his sons. He enjoyed the coming andgoing, the bright young faces, and had a hearty welcome for thechildren, though he sometimes pretended to scold them. A queer tract of land it was, with a great rift of rock running throughit where the children played house, and had parties, and occasionallytook their dinner out to eat in picnic fashion. Just beyond the strataof rock, on the good ground, stood two splendid apple-trees called"Jersey Sweetings, " and for nearly two summer months their bounty wasthe delight of the children. Farther down, the ground sloped abruptlyand settled into a pleasant orchard; then another sudden decline, andhere a pretty stream came purling through, making a tiny cascade as ittumbled over the rocks. The little girl was deeply touched by beauty; and as they ran around shestopped now and then to drink in the shady vistas and wild nooks thatseemed fairy-haunted. She had been reading a little mythology, and shecould believe in a great many things. There were places where she lookedto see Pan piping on his reed, and dryads and nymphs coming out of thegroves. How they did run and play! The air was merry with shouts and laughter. Some of them took off their shoes and stockings, and waded in the brook. And one of the big boys proposed that on Saturday afternoon they shouldgo down to the Harlem River and get some crabs and clams. There were enough children for a second table, and that was laid in theupper kitchen. Auntie thought they must be starved; but instead they hadbeen stuffed with sweet apples. Still most of them did justice to thebountiful dinner. "This little girl looks tired out, " said grandmother. "I think she hadbetter stay in and rest a while. " Hanny was very glad to do this. While grandmother took her nap, she wentupstairs where the grown-up people were talking and sewing. She wishedshe had brought her crocheting; but Polly had laughed her out of it. Then she took up a book, and was soon lost in that. It was an Englishnovel, as most of our novels were then, "Time the Avenger. " "That is a rather sad book for a little girl, " said Cousin Jennie. "I'llsee if I can't find you something better. You look as if you were fondof reading. You are Vermilye Underbill's little girl. And your brotherGeorge has gone to California. I know him quite well, and the Yonkersfamily. I suppose he hasn't found his nugget of gold yet?" The little girl smiled, and said she did not think he had yet. Hisletters had been full of the wonderful country; and it took so long toget a letter. "Here are some magazines with pictures and verses. Are you fond ofpoetry? Maybe you are a poet. You have a delicate, ethereal look. " "Do poets have that?" asked Hanny. "I know a girl who writes verses andstories; but she isn't at all ethereal. I'm quite sure I couldn't writeverses or anything, " and she gave a soft laugh. "Well, I think geniuses look quite like other people. I've seen a numberof them lately. We have a genius living up the road, and ever so manypeople come to see him. Some quite famous ladies. " Hanny opened her eyes very wide. "Let me see--I think I can find one of his poems. " She took a pile ofmagazines from the top of the high old-fashioned bureau. "Oh, yes, --though, like 'Time the Avenger, ' I think it's too old for you. I'm not very fond of poetry. Here is 'Annabel Lee. '" Then Cousin Jennie was called into the other room, where some one wantedto talk about the best way to ruffle a lawn skirt. Should the ruffles beon the straight or bias? Hanny read the verses over and over, and saw the city by the sea wheredwelt beautiful Annabel Lee, and how her high-born kinsman, who came ingreat state in a chariot, carried her away from the one who loved her sodearly. But when, later on, she came to know and understand the poem, and the high-born kinsman had come for some of those she held most dear, she could always go back to the vague mysterious awe that filled andthrilled her then. She sat as if in a trance until grandmother, who hadtaken her nap, came and took the arm-chair beside the open window. "Well, are you rested?" said grandmother, cheerfully. "I should thinkJaney and Polly would wear you out. It isn't a good thing for littlegirls to run too much. But everything has changed since my day. AlthoughI think they ran and played then; but they had to help work, there wasso much out-of-doors work. Everything is easier now. There are so manyimprovements. And, oh, how much there is to read! I'm not sure that isso good for them. " "But it is very delightful, " returned the little girl. "If it only made people wiser!" "But they are growing curiously wise, " said Hanny. "There is thetelegraph. It seemed so queer that you could make a bit of wire talk, that at first people didn't believe it. Uncle Faid did not when he sawit at the Fair. " "And people laughed about the steamboat, I remember, and the idea ofrailroad trains drawn by an engine. Yes, there are a good many strangethings. And steamships crossing the ocean. There used to besailing-vessels, and it took such a long while. " Hanny told grandmother about her friend who had gone abroad; andgrandmother, in return, told her about some Welsh ancestors who had tofly for their lives on account of being mixed up with some insurrectionabout a young prince, and the stormy time they had coming over, --howthey were driven up and down the coast, and their voyage consumed twomonths. They were almost out of provisions, and suffered many hardships. So the wisdom of the world had amounted to something. The children came in. They were going up the road, and didn't Hanny wantto join them? Mrs. Odell said they must not stay very long, she wasgoing home before supper. There was a protest about this; but Mrs. Odell said there were peopleand children enough without them, and she had told her husband theywould be home to supper. "Do we go by the poet's house?" Hanny asked as they passed thecross-road. "The poet?" Two or three of the children stared blankly. "Oh, Hanny means that Mr. Poe. Why, yes; it's the old Cromwell house. Itisn't much to see. There, that little cottage. " No, it was not much to see, --a very bird's nest house with a great treeshading it, and a little porch at the side. A rather thin elderly womansat sewing in a rocking-chair. She did not even look up at the children. They were full of fun and nonsense, and presently were joined by twoneighbouring girls. They went up by the old church, and then theywandered to the graveyard. It was a rather neglected place, as countrygraveyards were wont to be at that time. Some red clovers were in bloom, and a few belated buttercups. The trees were rather straggling, a fewmagnificent in their age. There were long-armed rose-trees that had donetheir best in the earlier season, a few wild roses, pale from growing inthe shade, and the long slender blades of grass fell about in veryweakness. There were some curious inscriptions; there were places whererelatives of several of the children were buried. "Oh, Hanny, come here, " said Cousin Ann. "That Mr. Poe's wife is buriedhere. It's the Valentine plot. They're going to take her away sometime. They're all very poor, you know. She died in the winter. People said shewas beautiful; but, "--Ann lowered her voice, --"they were awful poor, andit is said she didn't have comfortable things. I should hate to be sopoor; shouldn't you?" Hanny shuddered. She was glad to get out in the sunshine again with herfew wild flowers in her hand. Bessie Valentine made them come in and have a chunk of cake, and it wasa chunk indeed. Those who liked had a glass of buttermilk. Cousin Jennie had gone up to the corner to look for them. Hanny espiedher, and ran forward. "Oh, " she cried, "I've seen the house where Mr. Poe lives. And we wentin the graveyard. Who was the other lady sitting on the porch?" "That was Mrs. Clemm. I go up there to borrow books; and I like Mr. Poe, only--well, he is rather unfortunate. " "Was she so beautiful?" asked the child, irrelevantly. "Mrs. Poe? Yes; I think she must have been. She looked like a smallwhite wraith--do you know what a wraith is?" smilingly. "A kind of ghost. And were they very poor?" "It's a sad story. I think they were proud as well, for any one wouldhave come in and done any needed thing. They had friends in the city whoused to visit them. Mrs. Clemm was Mrs. Poe's mother and the poet'saunt; and it is said Annabel Lee means his wife. It's a wild, musicalthing. Every story or poem of his has a curious ghostly sound. " "But--the high-born kinsman--" The little girl's eyes were vague and puzzled. "You can't understand it. Poets say queer things. I'm not fond ofpoetry, only here and there. And the stories make you shiver. Youwouldn't like them. He has all sorts of books, and he is very generouswith them. We've planned that you are to come up and stay a week withus. Some of the folks are going away, and there will be plenty of room. " Hanny squeezed her hand. The throng of children ran over the grassy pathfrom the shop; and they all began to clamour that Polly and Janeyshould come up Saturday and go crabbing with them. Mrs. Odell said she'd see, if they could get their work done in time. There was a hubbub of good-byes, and the small cavalcade started downthe road. CHAPTER X WITH A POET The city by the sea sung itself in Hanny's brain. The sweet, young, beautiful wife, ruthlessly torn away, was somewhere in space, among thestars perhaps, and not in the old graveyard. She was floating on and onamidst all lovely things and divine fragrances. She could never growold; she would never want for anything. Ah, would she not want for themother and the poet who loved her? An incident that had moved her strongly only a few weeks before, was astrange bit of reminiscence that could hardly be called a story. Ben hadbrought home a volume of De Quincey, and "Suspiria de Profundis" wasamong the papers. The others were too intellectual to interest her; butthe touching, tender, immeasurable longing for the little sister goneout of life, filled her inmost soul with an emotion so sacred she couldnot talk it over with any one. This was akin to it. Yet Hanny did not live in the clouds or in vague memories all the time. Her father drove up the next day, and found she was not homesick; andher mother was coming up the next week to spend the day; and everybodywas well. She had a great deal to tell him; and she seemed very merry. He wasn't quite sure about the crabbing expedition; but Mrs. Odell saidthere wasn't a mite of danger, for some of the big boys always wentalong; and that it was a regular frolic for the children. So Saturday they put on their oldest clothes. Hanny wore an outgrownfrock of Polly's. Mr. Odell said he would drive them down to the river, which would save half the walk. He had some business in that direction. He had the farm-waggon, and put some hay in the bottom, though heinsisted Hanny should sit on the seat with him. They stopped at Fordham, and took in another relay; and the children were wild with theunreasoning gladness of youth. Mr. Odell was in an uncommon good-humour, and took them down the river quite a distance, to High Bridge, and thenup again, when they espied the boys and baskets and the net, which had along handle and looked to Hanny like a butterfly-net, only larger. A motley crew they were. The boys had their trousers rolled above theirknees, and some of the girls took off their shoes and stockings andwaded about in the wet, sedgy grass. There was a little dock where theboats were tied; and soon two of them were loosened and filled up with ajolly crew. Big, cheerful Cousin Ben took charge of the little girl, andwould not allow the others to frighten her. Ann was quite a famous handon these expeditions. They rowed out a short distance, and then began business. Oh, theshrieks and laughter that came from the other boat, when some one dippedup two hands full of water and dashed it over the others. And it isstrange how much you can make your hands hold at such a time. Hanny wasglad she was not in that boat, when they rocked it up and down. But mostof the children could swim, and they were not in the channel. "Quick!" exclaimed Cousin Ann, and the net was held out in a twinkling, Ann drew up a great green fellow with a frightful lot of legs, and hedropped in the net. They dumped him into a basket, and covered him witha piece of old fish-net; and the more he struggled to get out, the morehe entangled himself. Hanny felt rather glad he was not down her end ofthe boat. They had brilliant luck for a little while. Then the other boat shiftedabout; they had not caught a single crab, and there were loud murmurs ofdiscontent. The others had the best place. "You make such a racket you frighten them away, " said Ben. "Can they hear?" asked Hanny. "I think about everything in this world can see and hear in somefashion. " They certainly were dreadful looking. The laughter and the exclamations, the disappointment at losing one, the funny conundrums the childrenpropounded to one another, and the limp appearance of the voyagers, partly made amends for the sudden fright every time the great sprawlingthings came up. Hanny would not even undertake the capture of one. The crabs grew wise presently. Not one of them could be aroused to thefaintest curiosity concerning bait. Ben's boat had nineteen, the othereleven. They rowed up to the little dock, and managed to get them all inone basket. Jack showed Hanny how you could take hold of a crab, andrender him helpless. It certainly did look funny to see him strugglingwith all his might and main, and his numerous legs. The two front oneswere very fierce. "He could give you an awful pinch with them, " said Jack; and he madebelieve fling him at a group of girls, who scattered pellmell. "I suppose the legs are oars, and help him swim, " said Hanny. "And help him grab his prey. He's a sort of savage fellow, and lives onsmaller folks. " Then Ben and Jack went to dig for clams. There were very nice clam andoyster beds along the river then. There were not many people to disturbthem, and no sewage to starve them out. Hanny thought planting oysters a very funny idea. They were put in theirbeds like other babies. The boys, and some of the girls, picked up the clams, until they had ahalf-bushel basket full. Tony Creese, the black man who did odd jobs, was to drive down for the "freight;" but he seemed in no hurry. Some ofthe boys went in swimming; and Janey Odell did wish she had broughtanother frock along. She could swim very well. They waded instead. Benwalked up to a little bank that, having lain in the sun all day, waswarm and dry, and stretched himself out. Ann was too big to go "larking"about with the girls, so she and Hanny, and one or two others, sat downon the soft, sunburned turf. How beautiful it all was! The sun was going down behind the New Jerseyhills. The little rise of ground between this and the Hudson shut outthe river; but it could not shut out the amethystine splendour. Back ofit all was heaven, to the child's faith. Miss Lois and her sister werethere, and old Mr. Bounett, and the poet's young wife, and ever so manyothers. It was only the other side of the clouds, with their scarlet andgold and green battlements. She could see the ships sailing into port. She recalled "Pilgrim's Progress, " and Christiana going across. In thatmoment of ecstasy she could have gone herself. Tony came down the road singing "Oh, Susannah;" Ben answered "Hillo!"and shook himself like a great bear. The two baskets were put into thewaggon. "Now you girls who are too delicate for a long walk, or too much wornout by your day's toil, had better hop in. Ann, you go and keep an eyeon Hanny. Now who else?" They were all pretty tired with their racing about, and the threesmallest ones were picked out, as there was but one horse. The othersformed the rear-guard, and marched on behind, with their arms abouteach other. They were too tired for even the tempting game of "tag, " orthe ambition of running races. Mr. Odell was waiting at the uncle's, having come around the other way. Supper was ready; but he thought they had better be "gettin' on, " asmother would wait supper for them. Hanny was very tired, and went to bed immediately after the meal. They had some splendid clam-fritters for breakfast. Ben had proposed todivide the crabs; but Mr. Odell reckoned, "He'd go crabbing the firstleisure day, " and was satisfied with part of the clams. And then, unexpected delight, Stephen and Dolly and the two babies cameup to dinner. Little Stevie captured everybody, he was so merry andcunning; and Polly wished they could keep him. "When he gets to be a big boy, and has a school vacation, I'll be veryglad to send him up, I dare say, " was the response. "But, dear me, we'll be big too, " said Polly; "and it won't be any fun. " Dolly told her little sister-in-law all the news, and what everybody wasdoing. It seemed as if she had been away so long. Mother had spent a daywith Martha, which she had been promising to do ever since Martha wasmarried. The little girl almost wanted to go home with them; but no one invitedher, and she would not have been so silly or ungracious as to pleadhomesickness, for she really wasn't homesick a bit. Then, on Tuesday, Joe came up with a letter from Daisy, who had gone tosome German baths, and was drinking water twice as horrid as that atSaratoga. The things you had to eat were so very queer; but the musiceverywhere was perfectly bewitching. Everything was so different. Shewas taking lessons of a Fräulein, and had to talk German at the table. They had been through several churches, and one picture gallery that wasmagnificent. A little withered-up old German was giving her somepainting lessons. If Hanny could only be there, she would be quitecontent; yet she did think she loved America best. Hanny was so delighted that her eyes shone, and her cheeks were pink asa rose-leaf. But Mrs. Odell said she could notice that her appetite was better, andshe was doing her best to fat her up a little, and make her look like acountry girl. Mr. Odell took her about with him when he could. There were so manybeautiful places up and down the valley of the Bronx. They went up toWhite Plains, and took everybody by surprise. Grandmother up there wasquite feeble now. Then it happened, rather oddly, that when Cousin Jennie came down forher, as there was no one scarcely at Fordham but the regular family, Mrs. Odell was going to have a houseful of relatives from the West. Shejust wished they had their new house at such times as these. She couldmake a bed on the floor for Janey and Polly, and that would give her twospare rooms. The girls didn't feel so badly, as there were two Western cousins oftheir age, and they would bring them up to Fordham. The little girl was not at all tired of her pleasant hosts; but therewas a romantic side to the coming visit that she could not talk overwith Polly and Janey; and she was most famished for reading, as theOdells were not of the intellectual sort. Mrs. Odell didn't like thechildren to handle her parlour books, in their red morocco bindings, that were spread around on the centre-table. Hanny's favourite place at the Fordham house was up on the high piazza. To be sure, it was sunny in the morning; but then Doctor Joe saidsunshine was good for her, and one corner soon grew shady. There wassome one passing up and down continually: the priests from St. John'sCollege, in their long black coats and queer hats, generally reading asthey walked; the labourers who worked on the railroad; the people goingto the station; and the girls out calling in the afternoons in theirpretty white gowns. There was no Jerome Park for stylish driving. Indeed, it was a plain little country village, and most of the lifecentred about the corner grocery and the blacksmith shop, where mentalked politics and the discovery of California, and discussed themerits of the heroes of the Mexican War. She sewed some patchwork for Cousin Jennie, who was making severalbed-quilts, and who had a lover, --a tall, bright-eyed young man whodrove a very handsome horse. Hanny felt quite wise on the subject oflovers; and though no one said anything special, she understood what thepreparations meant. "Now, " Cousin Jennie said the next afternoon, "I am going up to Mr. Poe's, to return some books and get others. Will you go along?" Hanny was very glad. She had seen Mr. N. P. Willis and General Morris, and some others, on the street; but that wasn't like going to theirhouses. The dead young wife lent him a glamour of romance, to hergirlish imagination. Mrs. Clemm sat on the farther end of the porch. It almost seemed as ifshe had not stirred since Hanny caught the first glimpse of her. Sherose, a tall, rather thin woman with a sad, quiet face and a gravesmile; and the two had a little chat. There was no hall to the house, at least the door opened into the frontroom. A half closet stood at one side of the chimney, piled with booksand papers, an old sofa and some chairs, a table in the centre, strewnwith pamphlets and writing-materials, and the poet sitting beside it ina melancholy pose, marking passages in a book. He glanced up and spoke. The little girl had an impression of a pallidface framed in dark, tumbled hair, and luminous eyes that seemed to beof some other world in their abstracted light. "You are quite welcome to any of the books, as you well know, " said thepoet. "I am glad to have some one interested in them. " Then the white hand went on turning pages and making notes. The littlegirl stood by the window, almost expecting the frail ghost to walk downfrom the graveyard and enter the door again. Later on, she understoodthe impression of weirdness, the almost ghostly stillness of the room;and she found herself thinking over the poem that had so impressed her. Fordham, in those days, was neither poetical nor intellectual. That aman should starve on writing poetry, when there was other work to bedone in the world, seemed rather absurd. In some of the centres, literature was becoming an honourable employment; but country places hadnot emerged from the twilight of respect for brawn rather than brain. Jennie made her selections, and expressed her obligation. The poetnodded absently. Mrs. Clemm rose, as they emerged from the door, and walked to the end ofthe porch with them. There was something wonderfully pathetic in thecare-worn face, the reticent air, and gentle voice. "I wonder if you have a few eggs to spare, " she asked, in a hesitatingmanner. "My poor Edgar's appetite is so wretched. He has had a badspell, and eats next to nothing. " "Yes, I can find you half-a-dozen, I know. Our hens are afflicted alittle with summer laziness, " and Jennie smiled. "We have been bakingto-day, and I wish you would accept a loaf of bread. I'll send thislittle cousin up with them. " "Oh, don't trouble! I will come down. " "I shall be glad to do it, " said Hanny, with a gentle eagerness. Cousin Jennie put the bread and the eggs, --she found seven, --and part ofa cake, in a little basket, and said, "Run along, Little Red RidingHood. There are no wolves to catch you. " They teased Cousin Jennie a little because the tall young man withbright eyes was named Woolf. Mrs. Clemm received the little girl's parcel with her usual quiet air, and thanked her for coming. And before she could hunt up her ever-scantypurse the child had said Good-evening, and vanished. Hanny heard the "spells" rather rudely explained a day or two after, andunderstood the melancholy shadow that hung about the house. People werenot any more delicate in gossiping about their neighbour's short-comingsthen than now, when all the little faults and frailties of heroes areparaded to the public gaze and comment. But the exquisite care with which the mother watched over the son of herheart, made her one of the little girl's heroines later on, when shecould fully appreciate the tender solicitude that tried to shield himand save him from temptation, when possible, bearing her burthen withsuch heroic dignity that she was fain to persuade her own soul that shecovered it from critical eyes. When one woman suffers bravely to thedeath, amid untold privation, and another takes up the dropped burthenwith a devotion no anxiety can wear out, is it not proof that there musthave been some charm in the poet seen more clearly by those who lovedhim? There was a new book by Miss Macintosh among those they had broughthome; and this Hanny devoured eagerly, sitting on her high perch, whilethe rest were busy in the household routine. In the afternoon, she readaloud while the others sewed. Sometimes the Major came in to listen; buthe thought there were no novels written nowadays like "The Mysteries ofUdolpho, " "The Children of the Abbey, " and "The Vicar of Wakefield. " "Oh, " said the little girl, "isn't this funny! We have the first volumeof 'The Grumbler' and the second of 'The Grandfather. ' I don't believe Ican piece them together, " with a bright, mirthful expression. "And I picked those up myself. No; we are interested in the 'Grumbler'now and must know what became of him. " They were English novels by a Miss Pickering, long since forgotten, while less worthy ones are remembered. "We'll walk up after supper and change them, " continued Cousin Jennie. But visitors came in shortly afterward to stay to supper. People werenot specially invited then; and the hostess did not expect to prepare afeast on ordinary occasions. So Jennie said Hanny might go up alone, ifshe didn't mind. She started gladly, yet a sense of diffidence oppressed her as she stoodat the door, a half guilty consciousness, as if she had no right to thesecret Mrs. Clemm was trying so assiduously to hide. The poet was pacing up and down the room; but his pallid face andstrange, shining eyes seemed looking out from some other world. Mrs. Clemm sat by the window with a magazine in her hand. Hanny preferred her request timidly. "Oh, come in and hunt them up. Your cousin is quite welcome to anything. Then there are some upstairs, though I brought down that pile over inthe corner this very morning. " The corner looked attractive. Hanny went thither, and knelt down on thechecked matting. There were two books of engravings containing portraitsof famous people, some old volumes of verse, some new ones, andmagazines. The volumes she wanted were not among them. But she exhumed somethingelse that made her forget the slight, nervous man pacing up and down, and the woman at the window. Turning the leaves of an old novel that hadlost one cover, she came across the name of one of her heroes, "Richardof the Lion Heart. " She had a passion, just then, for English history. And there was Bulwer's "White Rose of England, " in paper covers with aHarper imprint. "Could I take these beside?" she asked, with some hesitation. He glanced over at them as he came to that end of the room. "Those old novels? Yes. Do they let you read novels?" "I read almost anything, " and Hanny glanced up with rising colour. "Butthere are not so many books up here--I live in New York, " she added, byway of explanation. A half smile crossed his face, but its melancholy haunted the littlegirl long afterward. Then she went over to the closet, and soon found her missing volumes, and uttered her gentle Good-afternoon. Mrs. Clemm had folded her sewing, and came out on the porch where the water-pail stood empty, so shestarted to the well. "Please thank your cousin for her kindness, " she said in a soft tone. "Iam glad she is fond of books. " The modern realistic school, or even the analytic school, would floutMadame Cottin's old novel of "The Saracen" to-day. Perhaps in the yeartwo thousand the novels of to-day will be wondered at. The next morning, the little girl was up in her eyrie in the corner of the porch, andbegan her story. She was deeply interested in the Crusaders as well. Richard, Saladin, and his noble and knightly brother Melek held herspell-bound. She let the patchwork lie unheeded. Queen Joan, Richard's sister, beautiful and unfortunate in her marriage, almost a prisoner for years, rescued and taken to the Holy Land incompany with Berengaria, and treated with Oriental suavity and honour, and loved by Melek Adel, indeed, almost married to him, though historyconsiders it only as one of the many feints of Eastern diplomacy, rousedall Hanny's youthful ardour. And Saladin's young nephew, takingknighthood at Richard's hands on Easter morning, was so striking apicture that the child could not understand why Turks and Christiansshould be bitter enemies, when friendships like this could be cemented, and apparently appreciated by men of such qualities. She lost interest in the "Grumbler, " and I am afraid her mind wanderedas she read aloud. She was really glad that for several days there wereno children to play with. She sat out of doors, and was pretty sure thatwould answer Doctor Joe's requirements; and the Major took her outdriving, but she smuggled in her book. She was not quite so pale, thoughthat might have been due to sun-burn. She had just finished her enchanting story one morning, and was glancingidly down the hill, watching the toilers who bent over as if they werecarrying heavy loads, or drawing something behind them. Physical culturehad not yet been applied to the fine art of walking. A barouche, drawn by two nodding horses, came slowly along. There werefour ladies in it; but one especially attracted the child. She wore agown of softest cerulean blue, a bonnet of blue crape with delicate pinkroses, and a large bow of airy tulle tied under her chin. Her longringlets, the fashion of the day, drooped about her lovely face, thatsmiled and dimpled as she talked. Her hands were daintily gloved, andone held her parasol up high so she could glance about. Hanny was quitesure she espied her, for her companion leaned out and looked also. She left the child in a daze as she went by. Hanny had a secret, exultant consciousness that she had seen her ideal poet; then she smiledand wondered if she could write poems. Dolly was quite as pretty, butshe couldn't; and Margaret was handsomer. She could not quite associatethe sad, abstracted man up the road with "Annabel Lee. " What a puzzle itall was! She went downstairs presently, and was sitting on the area stepswatching Cousin Jennie iron, when the tall figure in her shabby blackhat and veil, which she invariably wore, came up the outer steps. Hannyran to open the gate. Mrs. Clemm was always quietly dignified. It was the intangible goodbreeding that distinguished her from the ordinary country-folk. She hada small tin kettle in her hand, and her manner was apologetic. "They had some unexpected visitors from the city, dear friends ofEddie's" (she oftener called him that than any other name, and she oftensaid "My poor dear Eddie!"). "Could they spare her some milk, and a feweggs? They had no milk at the store. " "With pleasure, " said Jennie, who went to the milk-room, and cast aglance around to see if there was not something else that would help outthe feast. The little girl wanted to ask some questions, but she hesitated fromdiffidence. She wondered afterward how the quiet, almost listless woman couldconcoct dainty feasts for these illustrious people out of her poverty;for they were illustrious in their day. Were the wit and poesy andknowledge the successive desserts, and bright gossip the sparkle of theBarmecide wine? She thought of the little cottage, when she read ofMadame Scarron among the French wits. She described them to Cousin Jennie when the tall black figure was goingslowly up the road. "Yes, they have a good many visitors, " said Jennie. "They did lastsummer, when poor Mrs. Poe was alive. " "Was _she_ very beautiful?" "Oh, child, beauty isn't everything!" and Jennie smiled. "Yes; it wassaid she was. But she was so thin and pale. She used to sit out there onthe porch, wrapped in a white shawl, with his arm about her, or her headresting on his shoulder. You see no one knew much about them then, andthey kept so to themselves. Then there is his unfortunate habit, thatyou cannot help feeling ought not to belong to a person of hisintelligence. It is a great pity. " Hanny sighed. She was to know a great deal more about the world lateron, and the appreciation that was spread as a garment about the poetwhen his life's fitful fever ended. There was an influx of quite elderly people one afternoon; and Hanny, gathering up some books, stole up to the little cottage, quite assuredno one would need her, or even miss her. The corner of books had been "cleared up. " In the wide fireplace, therewas a jar of feathery asparagus, and on the table a vase of flowers. There were a number of pictures, Hanny noticed. She had hardly glancedabout the room before, --the plain, low-ceiled room to which people wereto make pilgrimages as time went on. The poet sat by the table in a dreamy, indolent mood. "Did you find what you wanted the other day?" he asked gently. "Oh, yes! And I have read 'The Saracen. ' It interested me so, I couldn'tleave it a moment. I didn't want to like Saladin so much; but I had to. But I shall never give up Richard. " He smiled a little at that, kindly, cordially, and her heart warmed tohim. The pervasive eyes were so deep and beautiful! In spite of thepallor and attenuation, the face had a rare charm. "So Richard is your hero? Well, you will doubtless change your heroes agood many times before you get through with life. I think I had a boy'sfancy for Saladin once. Yet heroes come to be quite common-place peopleafter all. I wonder if I have any more that you would like?" Hanny said they had several books yet, and she was going down to WestFarms in a few days. She wanted to finish "The White Rose of England. " "History in romance, --I dare say that suits young people best. " She stood in a sort of vague uncertainty. "Well?" in a voice of suggestive inquiry, as if she might ask himanything. "Oh!" she cried, summoning all her courage, and flushing as she did so, "will you please tell me who the pretty lady in blue was, who came upthe other day in the carriage? She looked like a poet!" He did laugh then, softly, as if laughing was a little strange. "Is that your idea of a poet? Well, she _is_ one, --an airy, light-wingedpoet with dainty conceits, and a charming woman, too. I must tell hershe captured you at sight. That is Frances Sargent Osgood. And besideher sat Mrs. Gove Nichols, one of the new lights. Stay, I think I canfind a poem or two of Fanny Osgood's for you. " He hunted up two or three magazines. Hanny sat down on the door-sill; itwas so softly, so enchantingly bright out-of-doors, and the room alittle gloomy. She wanted to have a glimpse of sunshine, for Mrs. Osgoodlooked as if she belonged to the brighter world. They were dainty and bright. One was set to music afterward; and thelittle girl learned to sing it very prettily:-- "I've something sweet to tell you, And the secret you must keep, For remember, if it isn't night, I'm talking in my sleep. " Then they talked about poetry. I dare say he was amused at a little girlwhose ideal poem was "Genevieve, " by Coleridge, and who knew"Christobel, " "The Ancient Mariner, " and "The Lady of the Lake" half byheart. When, in her young womanhood, she read some of his sharp, scathing criticisms, she wondered at his sweetness that afternoon. Witha little more courage, she would have asked him what was really meant by"the high-born kinsman;" but she did not know as it was quite proper totalk to him about his own verses. The wood-robins were singing in the tall trees, and the sun made dancingshadows on the stoop that was always clean as a floor. Mrs. Clemmbrought her splint rocker out, and begged her to try it, and asked afterthe cousins, sending thanks for the cake that she had found in herbasket, and the pot-cheese that had proved such a treat to her visitors. She thanked Mrs. Clemm prettily for the chair, but said she must gohome. The poet nodded. He had taken up his pen then, and she wonderedwhat the spell was like that inspired a poem. The next forenoon, they saw Mr. Poe going down to the station. CousinJennie shook her head; and the stout old Major said, "It was a pity Mrs. Clemm couldn't keep him at home steadily. " She was never to see him again; but when she heard of his tragic death, her heart ached for the poor desolate mother. CHAPTER XI THE KING OF TERRORS They all admitted that Hanny had improved a good deal. She seemed tohave grown every way. Her mother was sure she must let her skirts down;and her last winter's frocks were too tight about the shoulders, and tooshort in the sleeves. She had absolutely gained five pounds, and herlittle face had rounded out. But still she was smaller than most girlsof her age. She had so much to talk about that her mother said she was a regularlittle gossip. Her father liked to hear about grandmother and thekindly, large-hearted Major. She had found out that when grandmother wasa young girl her name was Hannah Underhill, now it was Horton. So manyelderly people had been visiting at Fordham, and her father knew most ofthem. But Ben and Doctor Joe were interested in the poet Poe; Joe knewmore about him than he confessed to his little sister. Oh, how glad she was to get back to school! There were so many things tolearn. But Dolly had to have her one Saturday; and Mrs. French came overand took her to the house Beautiful. Ben was quite in love with Mrs. French. And now they were filling up the conservatory for winterblooming; and Hanny wished _they_ could have some house-flowers. Hermother had hydrangeas and an oleander; but they were put in the end ofthe stable for winter. Now and then she went up to Margaret's to stay all night. Daisy wasgrowing to be almost as lovely as Stevie had been; and though she didnot suggest Daisy Jasper, the name always recalled her dear friend. AndStevie was quite a big boy. He was getting some rough ways, too, andwanted to drive Hanny about for a horse, just as he did papa. Great-grandmother Van Kortland had knit him some beautiful horse-lines. And Annie was such a sweet little thing! Stevie wished she was a littlebrother, "'tause dirls ain't no dood, " he said. "You'm dot to be sotareful. " He talked quite crooked, and could not pronounce "g" at all. He said "umbebella" and "peaapoket" and "tea-tettletel. " Philadelphiaalways floored him. But then he had been Hanny's first love, and shecould never forget the Christmas morning when he came. There had been another exciting matter as well, and this was apresidential election. Zachary Taylor, Old Rough and Ready, as he wascalled, had become a great hero to her. She found that he had servedgallantly in the War of 1812, fought against the mighty Tecumseh, andbeen in the Black Hawk War, beside all the late Mexican engagements, where he had so distinguished himself. At the nomination, she had been alittle sorry to have her old favourite Harry Clay superseded, andGeneral Scott was a war-veteran as well. Then there had been famousDaniel Webster, whose speeches were the favourite of school-boys, thoughthey had not banished Patrick Henry. But the real race was between Cass, Van Buren, Charles Francis Adams and himself; and Old Rough and Readywon. She wore a rough-and-ready straw bonnet this fall; all the girlsdid. Margaret agitated the school question again. Hanny ought to be makingsome useful friends, and though the "First Avenue and First Street girlsmight be very nice--" "Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Underhill. "She's too little to be sent sofar off. And I don't want any lovers put in her head this many a year. " Margaret was getting to be rather aristocratic. She kept her whole housenow, and had a maid-servant beside the coloured "boy. " Some stylishpeople were building up-town. Dr. Hoffman had a good many friends, andhe was very proud of his handsome wife. But Mrs. Underhill sometimessaid, in the bosom of her family, that Margaret "put on airs. " Hanny was well satisfied, and found a great many things to learn at Mrs. Craven's. Then Mr. Theodore Whitney came home, and published a book of travelletters. And another young man, one Bayard Taylor, had been abroad andseen all of Europe with knapsack and staff, and had published his "ViewsAfoot. " Ben was so interested. He often stopped at the Whitneys forsupper and a talk. Nora grew like a weed, and developed a good deal of musical ability. They had a steady servant now; and Mrs. Whitney was more "intellectual"than ever, and beginning to be proud of Delia's stories. She wasgenerally paid for them; although young writers of that day weresatisfied with the chance of being heard of, and read. She was gettingquite a library together, and had her corner of the back parlour, whichMr. Theodore took possession of at once. He had brought home some fineengravings and studies, and half-a-dozen different "Virgins. " The aspectof the rooms changed altogether. Delia began to cultivate quite a"circle. " She and Ben were splendid comrades. She had plans for going abroad also;and he entered into them with great zeal. She "didn't suppose she couldpay her way like The. ; but she was saving up her money for that object. "Aunt Clem was real good to her; and when her quarterly allowance waspaid she often dropped five dollars into Dele's bank. "I don't know how much there is, and I am not going to open it under twoyears. Of course a woman couldn't take matters as Bayard Taylor did; butif she was economical and found cheap places! I do wonder if she couldgo alone?" Tourists' parties had not been invented, though men occasionallyclubbed together and obtained accommodations more cheaply. "Two years, " returned Ben, musingly. Dele was certainly growing prettier. Her hair wasn't even Titian colournow, but a decided bright brown, and the curly roughness seemed just tosuit her. Then the freckles were disappearing. He didn't know asfreckles spoiled any one's complexion when it had that peachy softnessand the kind of creamy look. If her mouth was wide, it had some prettycurves, and her teeth were beautiful. A Grecian nose would take all thepiquancy out of her face. "It may be a little more than two years, " considered Delia, "and The. May start off again. Oh, I'm pretty sure to go some time!" "I've quite made up _my_ mind to go some time, " Ben announced gravely, then laughed. "It would be such fun to go together, " said Dele, in her harum-scarumfashion, without a thought of any future contingency. "I'll try to makeThe. Wait until I get rich enough. " Ben went home thinking what rare fun it would be to travel with some onewho saw the comical side of everything, and who could extract pleasurestraight along, as a bee could gather up honey. He enjoyed the funmightily, but he could not always bring it to pass. Joe and Jim had ahumourous side; but John had always been grave and steady-going. Benwanted some one to stir up the spirit of fun, and then he did his bestto keep it going. But he always had so much of the past seething in hisbrain. The world had such a wonderful history! He was almost afraid thatnow, when there was no war on hand, only Indian skirmishes, it wouldgrow common-place. There were no breathless romances about it, as therewere about Europe and Asia, where such conquerors as Tamerlane, GenghisKhan, Alexander and Philip and Attila, Charlemagne and Napoleon hadstalked across the world as it was known then. Not that Ben had anysoldierly ambitions, but to youth everyday plodding along seemsunheroic. The pleasant neighbourhood-life went on, though it must be confessedthat Hanny often longed for Daisy Jasper. Mr. Jasper had returned; andthe plan was now that the others might stay abroad two or three years. Daisy had improved wonderfully at the baths. They would spend the winterat Naples, and go back to Germany in the summer. Daisy was takinglessons in music and painting and Italian. She wrote about herself to Hanny. She only practised an hour a day, andcould stand it very well. Everything was so queer and foreign, thoughoften very beautiful. But the operas were enchanting beyond description. "I want to learn to play a little for myself, " she wrote. "And I find Ihave quite a good voice. I don't want to drop behind you all, and haveyou ashamed of me when I come back, for I couldn't spend a wholelifetime here, unless I had you, Hanny, and dear Doctor Joe. Tell meeverything about everybody. " Hanny was always two or three days answering the letters. There were newgirls in school to talk about, and the many things the others weredoing. Charles and Jim were at the Deans so much; Mr. Dean was sointerested in them, and Mrs. Dean made it so pleasant! Mrs. Reed wasinduced to come over now and then. She had softened considerably; butshe had never regained her strength, and sometimes she felt quiteuseless, she declared to Mr. Reed. But he thought they had never been sohappy or comfortable. That left Hanny quite alone. Josie seemed such a very large girl, andshe classed Hanny and Tudie as "the children. " Tudie was a good dealengrossed with her first large piece of worsted work. Not that Hanny waslonely! She read to her father when lessons were done, or he cameupstairs to hear her play. She was learning some of the old-fashionedsongs that he had loved in his youth, though I think sometimes he leanedhis head against the high back of his chair and went sound asleep. Everybody was always wanting her; and her mother said she was a sadlittle gad-about. Even John's wife insisted upon a share of her. Cleanthe wasn't bright and full of fun like Dolly, but she was very fondof the little girl, and both she and John considered it a great treat tohave her come in to tea. There was a grand time when Zachary Taylor was inaugurated. Stephen andDolly and the Doctor and Margaret went on to Washington with manyothers. They were fain to take Hanny. "Such a crowd is no place for children, " said Mrs. Underhill. "There'llbe presidents likely, if the world should stand, and she'll have chancesto go when the journey will do her more good. " Ben went with Mr. Whitney. And at the eleventh hour, Theodore gave inand said Delia might go, and she needn't rob her bank either. Oh, what a splendid time they had! Washington has changed wonderfullysince then; but the White House and some of the government buildings arejust the same. Ben was a little startled at the splendour. Mr. Theodorewas much engrossed with some friends, so Ben and Delia rambled about, lost themselves, and came to light in out-of-the-way places, hunted upfamous spots, and rehearsed old-time stories of brave men and notablewomen. The sail down the Potomac was delightful. There was Alexandriaand Mount Vernon and Richmond, all of which were to become a hundredtimes more famous in the course of a few years. Ben went over thisyouthful trip, so full of delight, many a time when, as a soldier, heslept under the stars, not knowing what the morrow would bring. They were just a big boy and girl, in search of fun and knowledge, andthey found plenty of both. Ben made up his mind that, when he did goabroad, Delia certainly should be his companion. Margaret and her husband went to Baltimore at once, as they were notpartial to crowds; and Dolly felt that she must get back to thechildren. But Mr. Theodore had some business on hand, so the youngpeople had their holiday lengthened. Still the season in New York had been a rather brilliant one, withvarious noted singers. An opera troupe from Havana had been giving somefamous operas; and Hanny was delighted to hear "La Somnambula, " becausenow she could compare notes with Daisy Jasper. And in May, the famous rivalry between two leading theatres, thatculminated in a great riot, occurred. Edwin Forrest, the great tragedianof that day, and many a year later, and Macready, a celebrated Englishactor, seemed almost pitted against each other in the same play, Hamlet. A certain party coming into existence had taken for its watchwordAmericanism of a rather narrow sort, and was protesting against allforeign influence. Macready had played, and then gone to fulfil anotherengagement, but was to return and play again. Some of the hot headsdecided he should not; and though all precautions were taken, thefeeling was that the better sense of the community would prevent anyabsolute disturbance. But the mob had grown larger and stronger in theirnarrow prejudice, and, before the play was half through, an onslaughtwas made on the opera-house. The rioters were in such force that thefamous Seventh Regiment had to be called out. It was a night of terrorand tragedy, and the whole city was wild with alarm. So serious did itbecome, that it was not quelled without bloodshed; and for days thewhole city seemed amazed that such a thing could have happened. But before the surprise and regret had died away, a sudden sound ofalarm ran through the city, in curiously muffled tones that blanched thebravest faces, --a visitant, then feared beyond measure, that science hadnot been able to cope with. People spoke of it with bated breath. It wasnot simply among the poor and destitute, or those indifferent tocleanliness and order, but it spread everywhere, --the dreaded, mysterious cholera. The older people remembered the scourge of almost twenty years before, and many of them prepared to fly to places of safety. The plague spot ofthe city was then the old Five Points, where the lowest and poorest, beggars and thieves, and sometimes murderers, had crowded in until itwas a nest to be shunned and feared. Through this tract the plague sweptlike wildfire. Margaret had accepted the urgent invitation of the cousins at Tarrytown, and gone thither with her baby, insisting also upon taking her littlesister. Father Underhill was glad to have her out of danger, and wasfain to persuade his wife to follow. "No, " she said stoutly; "Joe must remain; and you and Stephen cannot runaway from business. With Margaret and Hanny safe, I shall stay to keepwatch over the rest of you. I may be needed. " Dolly had taken her two children up to her sisters', who lived on theHudson near Fort Washington. Stephen could drive up every day or twowith news of everybody. It did not seem at all alarming up at the Morgan's rural home. True, Cousin Famie was aging fast, and had grown more feeble than her yearsreally warranted. Mrs. Eustis was quite the head of the house, and verybright and chatty, with a rather romantic turn of mind, just as fond ofreading as some of the younger folks. And it seemed to them as if the world was quite full of famous peoplethen. For beside Cooper and Irving, there were Prescott's splendidhistories, that were full of romance. And for story-writers, MissLeslie, who was entertaining magazine-readers, and Miss Sedgwick andLydia Maria Child. Then there was Hanny's favourite Mrs. Osgood, AliceCarey, and Mrs. Welby coming into notice, and Longfellow, Hawthorne andEmerson. The Doctor brought them up the new magazines, and saideverybody kept well. Ben came up and stayed a week, and added to theirstock of books. They went down to Sleepy Hollow, though it had not become so famous forpilgrimages. Mr. Irving had come home from Madrid, and friends droppedin upon him. He always had a delightful welcome for them. They used tosit out on the old porch and talk; or, when there were no guests, histwo nieces and some of his brothers' kept him company. Ben summoned up courage and went down to see the charming man, belovedof so many friends, taking his little sister with him. What adelightful hour it was! Hanny was too shy to talk much, although she hadbeen so brave on the poet's old stoop at Fordham. Perhaps, really, therewas no opportunity, Ben kept the floor so entirely. They went in andlooked at the drawings from Rip Van Winkle and Ichabod Crane andKatrina. But she still loved the old history that had charmed her so atfirst, and she would have given him her child's adoration freely, if hehad written nothing else. Ben had already seen a number of notable people. They often came in atthe Harpers'. He used to talk them over with Delia; and he thought nowwhat a fascinating story he should have to tell her. The next day they went over to see grandmother and Uncle David. Jim wasup making a visit. His mother preferred to have him out of danger. Heand Ben were to go down to Yonkers; and though they were loth to sparethe little girl, she went back to Tarrytown. It was October before the Doctor would let Margaret return to the city. Daisy had grown so much, and was talking in a cunning, broken fashion. Mrs. Underhill had made two brief visits; and though she seemed rathernervous for her, she declared, "She had been very well all summer, andthat they had a great deal to be thankful for. She couldn't have leftfather and the boys. " She had never been so demonstrative to Hanny, much as she had loved her. She kept one arm around her, and could hardly bear her out of hersight. "Had she been content, and not made any trouble, and waited upon CousinFamie, and helped all she could? She was such a large girl now, andought to be useful. " Hanny smiled, and kissed her mother, and said: "She had tried to do herbest. And she had been very, very happy. " "Cousin Margaret, I do wonder if you appreciate that child, " saidRoseann, when Hanny had gone out on the porch to have a romp with littleDaisy. "She's such a smart little thing, and not a bit set up about it. I've been clear beat to see how she understands books, and people, too. And she's so industrious and pleasant-tempered. She makes me think ofGrandmother Underhill and Aunt Eunice. I do hope you'll be able to keepher. It's a providential mercy she hasn't been in the city all summer. The cholera has been just awful! I don't see how you had the courage tostay. " "My sons were there. " The tears came to Mrs. Underhill's eyes. "Andthough they were spared, they often needed me. No one really can knowwhat it was, unless they have been through it. Joe came home one nightso worn out that he stayed in bed all the next day. I just prayed everymoment; I felt as if I'd never prayed before. And there was all ofJohn's trouble. Yes; many a one has been called upon to part with theirnearest and dearest. " John Underhill's wife had lost both father and mother, withintwenty-four hours of each other. Then Cleanthe's little baby had beenborn dead; and they had to move her to Mother Underhill's, more deadthan alive; but good care had at last restored her. The old Archercousins in Henry Street had gone; and many another among friends andrelatives. They did not tell Hanny until she came home who had gone out of theneighbourhood. Mrs. Reed had been among the first. She was getting readyto go away with Charles, when the summons came. But the greatest sorrowof all to her was the loss of Tudie Dean. She had been rather droopingfor several days; and one night Doctor Joe had been summoned, but invain. Two of the prettiest of the little Jewish children who had come tothe Whitney house were buried on the same day. Cleanthe was still at home, as she called her mother-in-law's house. Shewas very pale and wan, and just hugged Hanny to her heart, and criedover her. Charlie Reed sorrowed deeply for his mother. "I don't just know how it came about, " he said tremulously; "but we weregetting to be such friends; she took such a real interest in my studies;and she seemed to want father to be happy in the things he liked. He'smost broken-hearted over it; and the house seems dreadful! Cousin Janeadvises father to break up and board; I think she's kind of nervous, andwants a change. Oh, what a terrible time it has been; I am glad youwere away. And poor little Tudie Dean!" They both cried over her. And when she went in to see Josie, she wasalmost heart-broken; for Josie looked so strange and grown-up, and wasso grave. Mrs. Dean pressed her to her heart. "Thank God, my little dear, " she exclaimed, "that your mother hasn't tosorrow over any loss. Your brother has been heroic; and there was onetime when we were all afraid. He was so dead-tired that I know hecouldn't have lived if it had been cholera. The doctors were all heroes;and many of them have given their lives. " Yet the world went on, over the thousands who had dropped out of it. Business resumed its sway; even amusements started up. But there weremany sad households. And though the Underhills had not taken Cleanthe to their hearts withquite the fervor Dolly had awakened, they loved her very tenderly now;and she seemed to slip in among them with a new and closer bond. There would be a good deal of business to settle. John thought it betterto look about for a new partner. Mr. Bradley had left quite a fortunefor the times. He had been investing in up-town property, and Johnthought it would be wise to build, and sell or rent as his wife desired. The old home was dismantled, the best of the furniture stored forfurther use. He tried to persuade his father to go farther up-town. Joe was also afactor in this matter. For though the cholera had spared Dr. Fitch, the infirmities of age andhard work had overtaken him. A nephew who had recently graduated, andhad the prestige of the same name, was anxious to take the practice. Joefelt as if circumstances were shaping a change for him; and he was readynow to take up a life of his own. Then the Deans sold, and were to go up a little farther. Sometime, andbefore many years, there would be street-cars, instead of the slow, awkward stages, and people could get to and fro more rapidly. The trendwas unmistakably up-town. Mr. Reed hired out his house furnished, and went over to the Deans toboard. It seemed to Hanny that no one was quite the same. Nora Whitney wasalmost a head taller than Hanny, and was getting to be a very stylishgirl. Her voice was considered promising, and was being cultivated. Butpoor old Pussy Gray had rounded out his life, and slept under a greatwhite rosebush at the end of the yard. Mrs. Whitney's hair was nearlyall white, and she was a very pretty woman. Mr. Theodore was showingsilver in both hair and beard; but Delia changed very little. Aunt Clemwent on living in her serene and cheerful fashion. And then the bells rang out for the mid-century, 1850! How wonderful itseemed. "I wonder if any one of us will live to nineteen hundred, " questionedHanny, with a strange thrill of awe in her voice. "I don't suppose I will, " replied her father; "but some of you may. Why, even Stephen wouldn't be much above eighty; and you'll be a littlepast sixty!" He laughed with a mellow, amused sound. "And all you youngpeople of to-day will be telling your grandchildren how New York lookedat the half-century mark. Well, it has made rapid strides since eighteenhundred. I sometimes wonder what there is to happen next. We have steamon land and water. We have discovered Eldorado, and invented thetelegraph; and there are people figuring on laying one across the ocean. That may come in your day. " "And a sewing-machine, " added the little girl, smilingly. The sewing-machine was attracting a good deal of attention now, andmaking itself a useful factor. But to live to see nineteen hundred! That would be like discovering thefountain of perpetual youth. CHAPTER XII UP-TOWN There had been so many delightful things in First Street, the littlegirl thought at first it would almost break her heart to go away. Herfather, with the inertia of coming years, hated to be disturbed. "I hoped, when we did make any change, we would build on the old place, "he said. "I'd like country life again. But I am getting too old to farm;and none of the boys care about it. If George had stayed at home, " andFather Underhill sighed. George had not yet found his bonanza. There was gold in plenty in thatwonderful country. There were hardships, too. He kept those to tell ofin after years. It was a wild, rough, marvellous life; and every man ofthem was waiting for a run of luck, that he might go East with his pile. Meanwhile cities were begun. Mrs. Underhill sighed a little also, in an undecided fashion. All thechildren were here, and surely they could not go away and leave thembehind. The attractive, rural aspect of Yonkers had changed, or was itthat she had changed? Some of her old friends had gone to new homessome had died. Then she had grown so accustomed to the stirring life ofthe city. "No, we should not want to go alone, " she said. "Steve's a bright business-man. John's long-headed, if he isn't quite sobrilliant. Ben will be all for books and travel. And Jim--well, it'sodd, but there won't be a farmer among them. " "No, " returned their mother, not knowing whether to be glad or sorry. "Then farming is changing. And the near-by places are turning intotowns. What the next half of the century will bring--" Since there was no prospect of the homestead, they allowed themselves tobe persuaded to join the migration. Foreigners were crowding them alittle. There was a finer, freer air up-town. The Deans suited themselves, and Mr. Reed and Charles went with them. Charles was now a tall, fair young fellow, rather grave from the shockof the loss of his mother, intensified perhaps by his sympathy with Mrs. Dean and Josie. It was a great comfort to keep together. John looked up a new home; but Cleanthe, with her arms around Mrs. Underhill's neck, said, in a broken sort of tone:-- "Oh, you must be somewhere near us! I don't feel as if I could live, ifI did not see you every day. I have no mother but you. " Twentieth Street seemed a long way up, to be sure. But there was an odd, rather oldish house, with a two-story ell that seemed to have been addedas an after-thought. There was a stable and quite a garden. It had beenconsidered rather a country house in its inception. Joe insisted that it was just the thing. He could have an office and alibrary, and a sleeping-room overhead, without disturbing the family. Mrs. Underhill declared there was twice too much room; and if any of theother boys should marry and go away-- "There's only Ben. I am a fixture; and it will be years before Jimreaches that tempting period. Oh, I think you need not worry!" comfortedthe Doctor. Hanny was glad to go with everybody else. They had one sad sweet time atthe Deans, talking over old days and the tea in the back-yard, whenthere had been Nora and the pussy, and the one who was not. It wasrather sad to outgrow childhood. Ah, how merry they had been! What asimple idyllic memory this was to be for all her later years! Mrs. Reedalways lived in First Street to her; and Tudie Dean used to go up anddown the street, a blessed, beautiful ghost. The little girl was quitesure she would not be afraid to clasp her white hand, if she should meether wandering about those sacred precincts. She could not have put heridea into Longfellow's beautiful lines; but it haunted her in the sameshape of remembrance. "All houses wherein men have lived and died Are haunted houses. " They went down to the Jasper house also. There had been a family ofchildren to tramp over the flower-beds and leave debris about. Therewas no pretty striped awning, no wheeling-chair, no slim, picturesquenegro lad, and no ladies in light lawns sitting about. It lookedcommon-place. "We can write Ichabod on it, " said Charles, half regretfully. Hanny asked Joe why they should; and he showed her the verse, "Thy gloryhas departed. " "The glory has departed from the whole street, " she said, glancingaround. The new-comers were of a different class. No one swept thedebris up to the crown of the street any more; and the citystreet-sweepers were infrequent visitors. "It will be beginning all over again, " Dr. Hoffman said to hisbrother-in-law. "It seems a pity to waste so much endeavour. Yet if you_can_ wait, the practice will be better worth while. " "It wouldn't be the fair thing to crowd in on young Dr. Fitch. He didsuggest a partnership, but I thought I would rather strike out formyself. And I prefer having all my interests at home. Mother begins tomiss the children that have gone out; and there were so many of us. " When Mrs. Underhill looked back, she always thought those early years inFirst Street were among the happiest of her life. They were broader andricher than the first wedded years. They could not keep together always. She wanted her children to know the sweetness of life and love. Steveand Margaret were very happy. John and his wife had supped of sorrow;but they were young and had each other; and children would come torestore beauty for ashes, and the oil of joy for mourning. She was delighted with Joe's decision. That night, when Joe had comehome a very ghost of himself, and dropped down on Hanny's bed, becausehe hadn't strength to go up another pair of stairs, and she had claspedher arms about him and cried, in her terror: "Oh, Joe, my dear son, isit cholera?" had been an awful moment for her. "No, mother dear; but if I can't have a few hours' rest, I shall die offatigue. Just let me sleep, but watch me well. " She had sat beside him the rest of the night, from midnight to morning, counting his pulse now and then, which showed no indication of collapse. Other mothers had their sons snatched from them, --mothers who weretender and worthy, and who loved as fervently as she did. When he awoke at the next noon, she felt as if he had been given back toher out of a great danger. And she was glad now to have him plan for thehome-interest, glad there would be several years before she was calledupon to share him with any other woman. So they said good-bye to the old house again, and placed their householdgods in a new home. They had gone farther than any of the others, thoughthey were nearer Margaret and Dolly. The Deans were lower down and onSecond Avenue. Up above them were great open spaces. They had two lots, which gave them a grassy space beside the drive. The lot being deeperthan usual, they could have a little garden where the fruit-trees didnot shade. There was a tall, gnarled old pear-tree, and they found itbore excellent fruit. Right by the porch, in a lovely southern exposure, was a delicious nectarine. The little girl was deeply interested in Joe's house, as she began tocall it. A door opened from the main hall, and one quite outside fromthe flagged path. That would be the patients' entrance, when they beganto come. Joe went up to Yonkers and exhumed some old furniture. Therewas a queer, brass-studded, leather-covered sofa, with high roll arms, and a roll at the back that suggested a pillow. There were two smallspindle-legged tables; some high-backed, oaken chairs, rudely carved, and almost black with age; and a curious old _escritoire_ that was saidto have come from France with the French grandmother who had landed withthe emigrants at New Rochelle. His office was plainly appointed, with an oil-cloth on the floor, a rowof shelves for jars of medicines; for even then many doctors compoundedtheir own prescriptions. There was a plain business-desk, a table, andsome chairs, and a small book-case. All the odd old things were to go inhis sitting-room. Across one end, he had it filled in with book-shelves. One corner wasfor the little girl. And there was to be a special chair for her, so shecould come in and study her lessons, or read or talk to her dear DoctorJoe. Mrs. French made a splendid addition to the room in a large Oriental rugthat Doctor Joe valued more highly as the years went on. For then wewere getting bright-hued carpets from French and English looms, andthese dull old things were not in any great favour. Only it was so thickand soft, the little girl said it was good enough for a bed. Joe laughed. "I daresay I shall take many a nap on it. You must make mea nice pillow-cushion, out of some of your bits of silk. " People made real sensible patchwork then, or worked a cover in worsted, with perhaps a pretty bunch of flowers. The house had a basement-kitchen at the back, and a dumb-waiter likeMargaret's. Mrs. Underhill thought at first she shouldn't like it. Therewas a spacious area, which made Hanny think of Mrs. Dean's in FirstStreet, where they used to play tea. It took a long while to get settled, somehow. Ben thought it a great wayup-town; and he often went to the Whitneys to tea, when he wanted hisevening. Jim grumbled a little, too; there were no nice fellows around. Joe insisted that he had better not hunt up any, but pay strictattention to his studies, for he was falling dreadfully behind. But whenJim had to work or study, he went at it with all his might and main, andgenerally managed to catch up. The little girl and her father were perhaps the best pleased. He likedthe little garden spot. He was not confining himself very closely tobusiness now. There were so many pretty walks around, for it was stillquite rural, and you could find a few wild flowers. There was anothervery amusing feature farther up-town, and that was the "squatters, " withtheir pigs and goats and geese, and their rich, wonderful brogue, theirodd attire, which was in the same style as when they landed. Connemaracloaks had not then attracted the fashionable eye; but the women seemedto wear them to keep out both heat and cold. Red, green, and plaidedseemed the favourites. The wide cap-ruffles caught the breeze, for onealways found a breeze in this vicinity. The little girl's happiness was rendered complete by the gift of abeautiful Maltese kitten about half-grown. It had a black nose, andblack pads to its feet, and a fashion of pricking up its small ears likea dog. There was a great discussion about a name; and Joe suggested"Major, " as she was still fond of military heroes. One evening Ben said: "Jim, the Whitneys are going over into Jersey onan exploring expedition, to view some curious old places, Cockloft Hallamong them. Don't you want to go?" Jim glanced up lazily. The boys were to play ball, as they often did, onSaturday afternoon. "Oh, that's the place where the Salmagundi Club used to meet, " criedHanny, with eager interest. "It is in Newark. " "Yes; and there's another queer nest on the Passaic where a greatsportsman lives, Henry William Herbert, the Frank Forrester of somestirring adventures. Mr. Whitney is to see him. And there are some otherold haunts; Delia was looking them up, --the Kearny house, and an oldplace that was once used as a sort of fort. " "Dele Whitney goes round just like a boy!" said Jim, disdainfully. "Well, why shouldn't she go with her brother?" "Oh, Ben, can't I go with you?" pleaded Hanny. "Jersey's a queer sort of State, " said Jim, teasingly. "The Blue Lawsare still in operation. You are not allowed to stay out after dark. " "Are they printed in blue? And you don't mean to stay out after dark, doyou, Ben?" Hanny's expression was so simply honest they all laughed, which ratherdisconcerted her. "It is because you feel pretty blue when you have to obey them; andJersey is out of the United States. " "It just isn't, Mr. Jim!" cried Hanny, indignantly. "It's one of theMiddle States. " It was quite the fashion then to laugh at New Jersey, in spite of thegeography; though even at that remote date New Jersey peaches were heldin high esteem. "But if you went with Dele Whitney, we shouldn't know when to look foryou--hardly where, " and Jim winked. That was an allusion to an old visit at the Museum, when they stayed allthe evening, for the same admittance. "I've half suspected you were the ringleader of that scheme, Jim, " saidhis doctor-brother. "I have a mind to go. One good thing about theWhitneys is that you can invite yourself, and no one takes umbrage. " "Oh, do go!" said Ben; and Hanny came around to give his hand a tender, persuasive squeeze. "I haven't explored the State very much, but it hassome curious features. The magnolia and many Southern flowers growthere. I believe almost every kind of mineral, even to gold, is found inthe State. And it is rich in historic lore. " "There was Valley Forge, " said Hanny, softly. "Yes, the Delaware River is beautiful. And the Passaic winds half aroundthe State. It is twenty-seven miles by water, --a delightful sail we musttake some time, Hanny. " "We shouldn't have time for that now. We are to start at one. Delia'llbe glad enough to have you go, Hanny. " "Then you may count on us, " returned Joe. "Well, I'll take the ball game, " said Jim. Mrs. Underhill had been settling on a final negative. She had a littlefeeling about Delia Whitney; she could not quite approve of grown girlsrunning about so much with boys. And she thought if she was going to setup for a genius, she ought to be delicate and refined. But Joe alwayscarried the day, and she could trust her darling with him. It was Margaret's Saturday, so Hanny ran around in the morning to tellher of the new arrangements. They were to meet the Whitneys atCourtlandt Street, so they had an early lunch, and started in good time. Hanny was so interested in everything that she was a charming companion. It seemed queer that Mr. Whitney could remember when there was norailroad, and you travelled mostly by stage-coaches. It had cost almosta quarter then, with the ferriage and toll-gates, if you walked toNewark. And now you could go through to Washington on the train. She thought it quite a fearful thing to go through the Harlem tunnel;but here there was a road cut through great, high, frowning rocks thatmade you feel as if you were in a dungeon. Then a long, level stretch ofsalt meadows with ditches cut across them, that suggested a vague ideaof Holland. We did not know the world quite so well then. Newark, in those days, was a sort of country town with country roads inall directions. At intervals, a stage went up Broad Street, which washandsome and wide and lined with stately trees. They thought it best towait awhile for this, lest Hanny should get too tired. "But you can't half see, " declared Delia. "When we come to the curiosities, we will get out, " said Mr. Whitney. "We can't afford to miss them. " They passed a pretty park full of magnificent elms, with an old greystone church standing in it, one of the oldest churches in the State. There were a number of stores, interspersed with private dwellings, andeverything wore a sort of leisurely aspect. A little farther up wasanother park, --commons, they were called then. The modest old houses andlarge gardens and fields gave it a still more complete country aspect. The stage stopped at a tavern where some people were waiting. The signwas "The Black Horse Tavern. " "We will get out and begin our adventures, " said Mr. Whitney, smilingly. "This little sort of creek was called First River. I dare say in pastdays it came rushing over the hill in quite a wild way. " "Is there a Second River?" asked Delia, mirthfully. "Indeed there is, at Belleville. There used to be an old millhereabouts, and this was the mill brook. Once or twice, in a freshet, the stream has risen so that it swept the bridge away. " "It's meek enough now, " said Ben. "Black Horse Tavern! That ought to bein a book. " It was a small one-story building, looking very old even then. Overopposite, a pretty house stood on a slight elevation, that dated back to1820, with its sloping lawn and green fields, its churn and brightmilkpans standing out in the sunshine. "We shall have to go round, as the frogs advise, " said Mr. Whitney, looking about him with an air of consideration. "We might get throughsome of these driveways; but there seems to be no regular street. " "And if we go round?" commented Delia, questioningly. "We go straight up this road until we come to a winding path called theGully, then down to the river, where we shall find Herbert's, thencedown the river to Cockloft Hall. But we will return by the upperrailroad, as we shall be near that. " "Come on, then, " said Dele, laughingly, when her brother had ended hisexplanations, "if you _can_ go straight on a crooked road; and if Hannygets tired, Ben and I will make a chair and carry her. " Joe smiled down at his little sister. He had linked his arm within hers. Ben and Delia were fond of falling behind. They were so merry, thatHanny was a little curious to know what they found to laugh about. Itdoes not take much to amuse healthy young people before their tastesbecome complicated. The old road wound a little, and had the curves that prove no one horseor man ever walks in a straight line. But, oh, how beautiful it was withthe fruit-trees and shrubbery in bloom, wild flowers, and stretches ofmeadow, where cows were pastured, and here and there a small flock ofsheep! Up above, on the brow of a hill, a wooded background gave it astill more picturesque appearance. They passed an old stone house on the west side that was really aRevolutionary relic. The stone ran up to the eaves; but the two gableswere of timber. It was on quite a bit of hill then, and had broken stonesteps up to the first terrace, where great clumps of brownish yellowlilies were in bloom. When strolling parties of British soldiery wentmarauding about, the residents of this vicinity used to flee to the oldPlum house as a place of refuge. The heavy double doors and woodenshutters could not well be battered down, though bullet-marks could betraced here and there. A Captain Alden lived in it now, who was himself quite a character. Hehad been in the British navy, with Admiral Nelson's command. When histime in the service ended, he had shipped with what he understood was amerchant vessel, but on learning it was a slaver, bound for Africa togather up a human cargo, he sprang overboard, when he saw a vesselpassing that halted for his signal. Several shots were fired at him, which he escaped. Later on, he was impressed in the naval service again, but at the first opportunity came to America. A hale, hearty old man, rather short in stature, but lithe and active, and with a merry look onhis weather-beaten face, he was still proud of his schooner that lay atStone Dock, at the launching of which, in the early part of the century, the Jersey Blues had turned out, and Major Stevens had christened it the"Northern Liberties. " It had been all built of Essex County lumber, andconstructed on the Passaic. But the river had been quite a famous streamin those days. There were no factories using up its volume of water. They sat on the stone coping and listened to the Captain's stories, indeed, could have spent all the afternoon, so entertaining did heprove. Then he took them through the old house with its ample hall andspacious rooms on one side. They concluded it must have been able tostand quite a siege, judging from its present solidity. And Mrs. Aldentreated them to a pitcher of freshly churned buttermilk, and a slice ofexcellent rye bread, which they found delightful. "I shall have to come over again, and get some material for a story, "declared Delia, when they were fairly started, tearing themselves awaywith quite a struggle. "That experience on the 'Slaver' was verygraphic. " "If you want to hear something that will make your hair stand on end, "said Doctor Joe, "come up and talk to father. When I was a little lad, we had a farm-hand working for us who had gone through with it all, beento Africa for a cargo, and come to the States with what was left of it. He never spoke of it when sober; and though he was in the main steady, once in a while he drank enough to start him going, and he alwaysrehearsed this horrible experience. I remember father used to lock himin the barn to sober up; because he did not want us children to hear theterrible story. " "Were the slaves brought that way?" asked Hanny, with a shudder. "Most every civilised country condemns that part of the awful practice, "answered Ben. "But it is a fact that the native tribes in Africa sellprisoners to one another, or whoever will buy them. Do you supposeAfrica will ever be explored?" and Ben looked up at Mr. Whitney. We did not know much about Africa even then. But Ben was afterward tosee the great explorer Stanley, whose journey across that country was awonderful romance. And although the question of slavery was seethingeven then, he could not have dreamed, this lovely afternoon when all wasat peace, that one day he should be in the thick of the battle himself, with many another brave soul, when his country was nearly rent in twain. A few lanes led up to places, the outline of streets, and lostthemselves in the fields. Cottages had been built to face nearly everyway. Here and there was an old colonial house of greater pretensions, some of them at the end of a long driveway lined with stately trees. Here also were the remnants of orchards, meadows where cows werepasturing, thickets of shrubbery with bread-and-butter vine running overthem, showing glossy green leaves. Mr. Whitney paused at a queer, long, one-story house with a high-peakedroof in which were set three small dormer windows. There was a littledooryard in front, a Dutch hall door with an iron knocker, a well nearby with the old oaken bucket General Morris had immortalised, and backof the house a picturesque ravine through which ran a clear stream ofwater that presently found its way out to the Passaic. Willows bent overit, elms and maples stood, tall and handsome, like guardian sentinels. A little old woman sat sewing by the window. "We haven't time to stop, " said Mr. Whitney. "Hanny, that lady is yourhero's grandmother, and the mother of General Watts Kearny. He not onlydistinguished himself in the Mexican War, but also in the War of 1812. Then he was Governor of Vera Cruz and the City of Mexico. " "And the hero of no end of stories, " added Ben. "Jim and I were wildover them a few years ago. Why do people keep saying we have no romancein our own country, because we have no ruined old castles? Why, Mexicoitself is a land of historical romance!" "What a lovely cool dell!" exclaimed Dele. "Just the place to take yourbook on a hot summer day. " "I believe your young hero Philip was born in New York. But this is theold home, one of the landmarks. " Opposite was a rather pretty place, --a rambling brick house with sharp, pointed roofs, and a long stretch of evergreens. It was beautiful inthis soft atmosphere. The birds made a swift dazzle now and then, andfilled the air with melody. "Up here is a hedge of hawthorn that was brought over from England by aYorkshireman living up above. It is out of bloom now; but another yearyou can come over early in May and see the 'hawthorn blossoms white'that poets never tire of praising. " Dele broke off a sprig for herself, and one for Hanny. The spaces werelarger, the houses farther apart. On the west side was a tree-nurseryand garden, and two quaint old frame-houses that hardly looked largeenough for any one to live in; but there were children playing about;and on the other side a cemetery. All this tract was known as MountPleasant. At the north of the cemetery, they plunged down a stony way called aroad, mostly by courtesy, though it was the only way of getting up fromthe river. Great trees overhung it on one side, and gave it a weird, darkened aspect. "It might be a ghost-walk, at night, " exclaimed Delia. "Edgar A. Poecould have put a story here. I like the tragic; but I'm not so fond ofthe horrible. " Another turn showed them the river and the opposite shore crowned withgreen glittering in the afternoon sunshine. They all paused, it was sucha wonderful outlook. And when they reached it, and glanced up and down, it was a pictureindeed. The river made little bends, and wound around tiny points, edgedwith the greenest of sedge grass in some places, then grey stones withmossy sea-growth, or willows dipping their branches in the lightlyruffled water. Not a soul to be seen anywhere, not a sound save thevoices of birds; but while they looked, a flock of geese came floatinggrandly down. "On thy fair bosom, silver lake, The white swan spreads her snowy sail, " quoted Delia. "It is not the first time swans have proved geese, " said Mr. Theodore, with a smile. "But for the sake of the picturesque we will let it pass. " "I wonder if the Wye or the Severn would be so enchanting to us if poetshad not lived there and immortalised them?" "When we are an old country, we will, no doubt, sigh for relics. In1666, this was called 'Neworke or Pesayak towne;' and a little more thana hundred years ago this Gully was made the dividing line between thetowns. There are many historic spots in Belleville, and an old coppermine that once made a great addition to her prosperity. But my questends here. I don't know as I have a hero exactly, Miss Hanny, yet myfriend, Frank Forrester, has had a varied and eventful life. This way. " Mr. Whitney led them up a path mostly over-grown with pale, spindlinggrass that had no chance for sunshine, so close and tall were the trees. It was undeniably gloomy, hidden away here. A little old brown, weather-beaten house hung with vines, that even stretched up into thetrees; small, narrow windows, with diamond-shaped panes that could notlet in much light, it would seem. "It's a horrid place, " cried Dele. "Hanny, we shall surely see a ghost. The idea of living at the very foot of a burying-ground!" Hanny held tight to Joe's hand. She was beginning to have what MissCynthia called the "creeps. " CHAPTER XIII OUT-OF-THE-WAY CORNERS If the outside was gloomy, it had a queer, disorderly, and rathercheerful aspect within, for the sun was pouring a flood of gold in onewindow where it happened to strike a spot between two trees. And FrankForrester was by no means melancholy to-day. He shook hands cordiallywith Mr. Whitney, and welcomed the rest of the party with the utmostaffability, --a fine-looking Englishman with a picturesque air, duelargely to his rather long hair, which fell about his forehead and neckin a tumbled manner, suggesting a tendency to curls. "These young people may like to look over my curiosities, while we haveour talk, " he said. "Take a cigar, and I'll bring a bottle of wine. Won't you join us, Doctor? Here, young folks, are curiosities fromeverywhere. " He ushered them into a small room that was library and everything byturns. There were trophies of hunting expeditions, some rare birdsstuffed and mounted, looking so alive Hanny would not have beensurprised if they had suddenly begun to warble; books in every stage ofdilapidation, some of them quite rare copies, Ben found; portfolios ofold engravings; curious weapons; foreign wraps; Grecian and Turkish bitsof pottery; and the odd things we call bric-à-brac nowadays. Delia began to make some notes. Ben laughed a little. Interviewing wasnot such a fine art then; and people were considered greater subjects ofinterest than their belongings. But Delia was saving up things forstories which she meant to write as she found time. Doctor Joe had come in here with the young people, leaving the twofriends to discuss their business. He, too, found much to interest him;and he was amused at Delia's running comments, some of them very brightindeed. She was quite a spur to Ben, he found; and he was surprised atthe varied stock of knowledge Ben had accumulated. It did not seem as if they had explored half, when Mr. Whitney openedthe door. "Young folks, we must be going, if we expect to reach home that verysame night, like the old woman with her pig, " he said. "Are you talked out?" asked Delia, archly; "for we haven't half lookedthrough things. " "I want your brother to stay and have some supper with me. I'm my ownhousekeeper now; but I think we could manage. " "What fun it would be, " said Delia. "As there are no stores, we shouldhave to start at the foundation of things. " "I have a loaf of bread, and some cold mutton, and eggs, I think, andtea and coffee. Come, you had better accept my hospitality. " "I must be home in the early evening, " remarked Doctor Joe. "And Hanny's not to stay out after dark, " appended Ben. "We are going down to Cockloft Hall, " explained Mr. Whitney. "I am sorrywe cannot accept. " "Then you must bring your happy family again. If they are fond ofcuriosities, the old house could entertain them all day long. " "And if they are fond of adventures, which they are, they might put youto the test, " said Delia, daringly. Herbert laughed at the vivacious tone. "Then you'd have to find me in the mood. In that respect, I amvariable. " "Do you have a mood for each day? Then your friends could be sure--" "A good idea, like the ladies' reception-days. Must I put on the card, Serious, Jolly, Adventurous, etc. ?" "And supernatural. I should come on the ghost days. For if ever a ghostwalked out of its earthy habitation, I should think it would be here. Did you ever see a ghost, Mr. Herbert?" "I have seen some queer things. But these up here, " nodding his head, "seem a very well behaved community. I can't say that they have troubledme; and I've come down the road at twelve or so at night. Perhaps myimagination is not vivid enough in that line. Have you ever seen aghost, Miss Whitney?" "No, I have not, except the ghosts of my imagination. I can shut my eyesnow, and see them come trooping down that lonely road by twos andthrees. " Herbert laughed again. "A vivid imagination is worth a good deal attimes, " he said. "There ought to be a ghost-walk about here; and nexttime you come over, we'll arrange one so perfectly that he shall defydetection. I'll walk a bit with you, if I am not a ghost. " When he put on his wide-brimmed, rather high-crowned hat, he looked moreSpanish than English. They went through another room that opened on aporch, and, from thence, through the garden, or an attempt at one thatdid not betoken signal success. The cemetery sloped down from a high hill that was such a thicket ofwoods it hid all indications of the City of the Dead. The placid river, in which there was only a gentle tide up here, lapped the shores with alittle murmur as it came up from the bay. The green, irregular shoreopposite showed here and there a house. The wood-robins were beginningtheir vespers already. Hanny thought them the sweetest singers she hadever heard. Just here there was a terraced garden-spot and an old house adorned withall kinds of blossoming shrubbery. "You see we two are guardians of the place, at either end. MissWhitney, this house could tell some interesting tales of the bygonetime; but the glory is departing. In a few years the city will stretchout and invade our solitude. " A wild spot of ground it was below, hilly, gravelly, sloping sharplydown to the river. But people were beginning to take advantage of theshore-edge for business. There were shops, and a foundry stretching outsmoky, dingy arms in various directions. They said their good-byes here, as they were in sight of the oldGouverneur mansion. And no one guessed then that a tragedy of love anddesperation to madness was soon to follow, and that in the dreary oldhouse "Frank Forrester" was to lie, slain by his own hand, that he wavedso jauntily to them as he bade them "Come again. " They scrambled up the small ascent, and sprang over the wall. Here waswhere the Nine Worthies used to come for their merry-making in theirexuberant youth, and, as one of their number said afterward, "enlivenedthe solitude by their mad-cap pranks and juvenile orgies. " The house hadnot been much modernised up to that period. Its young owner, Mr. Kemble, who was the Patroon of the merry company, still held it. They found theold honeydew cherry-tree standing; but some of its long-armed brancheswere going to decay. The odd, octagonal summer-house had not then fallendown. They went up to the old room in the south-western angle, the greenmoreen chamber, as it had been called, where the Nine Worthies used tocongregate, and where Irving concocted some choice bits of fun for theSalamagundi Club. And here was the great drawing-room where theydisposed themselves to sociable naps on Sunday afternoons, thevine-covered porch on which they sat and smoked starlit evenings, andthe grassy lawn over which they rambled. And now Mr. Washington Irvinghad been minister to Spain, and the guest of noted people in England andon the continent. He had won fame in more than one line, and hosts ofappreciative readers. Hanny could hardly realise it all, as she thought of the still handsomethough rather delicate man, past middle life, gracious and dignified andkindly, sitting on his own porch at Sunnyside. She couldn't help goingback to her first love, the old "Knickerbocker History" that seemed soreal to her, even now. The hand of improvement touched Cockloft Hall shortly after. The oldsummer-house was taken down; the famous cherry-tree, where the robinssang and reared their young for so many generations, succumbed to oldage and wintry blasts; but she was glad she had seen it in its romantichalo. They were not far from the upper railroad station then, --the old Morrisand Essex that had stirred up the country people mightily when it firstwent thundering through quiet vales, and screaming out at littleway-stations. They were just in time for a train. The sun had droppeddown behind the Orange Mountain, though the whole west was alive withchangeful gold and scarlet, melting to fainter tints, changing toindescribable hues and visionary islands floating in seas of amber andchrysoprase. Hanny was quite tired, and leaned her head on Joe's shoulder. Ben andDelia were in front, and Mr. Whitney in the seat behind. They kept up ananimated conversation, and thought it had been a delightful afternoon. "And I feel like quoting a bit out of a letter of the Poet Gray, " saidBen. "'Do you not think a man may be the wiser, I had almost saidbetter, for going a hundred or two miles?' We have gone a tenth or so ofthat, and I feel ever so much richer as well as wiser. How is it withyou, little Hanny?" "I've been to the land of heroes, " she replied, with a soft smile. "Ishall insist that Jim must honour New Jersey in the future. " "Bravo!" said Mr. Whitney. "And there are many more heroes in it, and Ithink some heroines, that we must hunt up at a leisure day. There wasAnn Halsted of Elizabethtown, who saw the British foraging expeditioncoming over from Staten Island, where the ship lay at anchor; and, donning a suit of her father's clothes, and taking an old musket, shewent down to the only road they could come up, and blazed away at themwith such intrepidity that the red-coats were alarmed lest a whole squadmight be quartered there, and retreated in haste. It was said whenWashington heard of it, he toasted the young lady. And there were thebrave women of Valley Forge. " "And Moll Pitcher, don't forget her, " put in Ben. "We in New York don'town quite everything. " They went rumbling into the tunnel, and Hanny started. She was used tothe Harlem tunnel; but this came upon her unexpectedly. "And there are three considerable tunnels, " laughed Delia. "Yet thereare people who believe the State is one vast sandy plain, and that theagricultural products are solely watermelons and peaches. Some onealways stands ready to believe ridiculous things. " "Hereafter, we will take up the cudgels for New Jersey, " declared Ben. "I am hungry as a bear! That rye bread was splendid, wasn't it! We mustask mother to make some, Joe. " Mr. Whitney begged them to stop to tea; but Doctor Joe thought they hadbetter get home. They were late, of course; but Mrs. Underhill had anice supper for them. When Jim heard about Captain Alden, he half wished he had gone. "But I had to come in and save the day, or we should have been beatenout of sight, so I was of some use, " he announced. Mrs. Underhill was put on her mettle by hearing about Mrs. Alden's ryebread; and the very next week she made some quite as splendid. Hanny displayed her sprig of hawthorn, --real hawthorn. "Are you sure it isn't artificial?" asked Jim, teasingly. "An artificial branch can't grow, " she said indignantly. The next week at school, the girls' compositions had to be read aloud;and Hanny wrote about her tour, which received the highest commendation. Delia came up to get the story of the man who had been on board theslave ship. She had a sketch of her own under way, and she wanted tomake it very thrilling. "And I shall have to give you half the money for it, " she saidlaughingly. It had a rather amusing hitch about its acceptance. The editor of thepaper to which it was offered liked it extremely for its vigouroustreatment, but begged her to use a masculine name, or simply initials, because it didn't sound like a young girl's story. She told this over with great gusto, and showed her check for twentydollars. But Mr. Underhill magnanimously refused to accept the half ofit. "I don't approve of so much mannishness in a girl, " Mrs. Underhill saiddecisively. In her heart she wished Ben did not like her so well. Butthey really were more like two boys than lovers. She took every occasion to make sharp little comments. Delia was rathercareless in her attire; and while she dressed her heroines in the stylesof their period, or in good taste, if they were modern, she had a rathermismatched look herself, except when she wore white, which she nearlyalways did evenings at home. And she made home a really delightful place. She was quite ambitious forreception evenings. Mrs. Osgood was holding them for a literary circle. Of course she could not aim at anything as elegant as that; butnewspaper men, young and old, were in the habit of dropping in upon Mr. Whitney quite informally. About ten, they might be asked down to thedining-room, where there was a dainty little spread, sometimes a Welshrarebit that Dele could concoct to perfection. To be sure, they smokedthe room blue; and Mr. Whitney often brought out a bottle of wine, aswas the custom then; true, he waited until Delia and Nora had goneupstairs, and taken some of the younger men. Delia had made a strongprotest against it, in her humourous way. "I don't so much mind you old fellows, who, if you haven't sense enoughnot to addle your brains, never will have. But the young men oughtn'thave the temptation thrust in their way. They think it looks smart andmanly; and they make themselves so silly that I'm like a lump of ice tosome of them. I like clear-brained people. " So upstairs they had music and recitations. Every young man of anyelocutionary ability felt himself empowered to recite "The Raven, " thatmuch admired and sharply discussed poem by the Poet Poe, whosemelancholy end still created much interest. Critical spirit ran high. One party could see only a morbid faculty heightened by opium andintoxicants; others found the spirit of true and fine genius in many ofhis efforts, and believed the circumstances of his life had been againsthim. Ben was reading one evening in Doctor Joe's cosy library, enjoying themost capacious arm-chair, and improvising a foot-rest out of one notquite so luxurious. The Doctor had been making out bills, and feelingquite encouraged, perhaps lighter-hearted than he would when he hadwaited a year for the payment of some of them. "Joe, " began his brother, abruptly, "what do you suppose makes mother sobitter about Delia Whitney?" "Bitter?" repeated Joe, in the tone of indecision people often use whena proposition or question takes them by surprise. "Yes. We all used to be so nice and jolly together, and Delia likes usall so much. Hanny has such good times down there, with the old lady whosings such pretty old-fashioned songs, if her voice is rather crackedand tremulous; and Nora is bright and entertaining. But the other daymother wouldn't let her go; and she was dreadfully disappointed; andmother is not as cordial to Delia as she used to be. Dele spoke of it. " Ben looked straight at his brother, out of the frankest of eyes. It wasJoe who changed colour. "I hate things to go crosswise. And when something keeps you just alittle ruffled up all the time--" Ben drew his brows. Was he really unconscious of the trouble? "You go there a good deal, you know. Some of the men are not quite thecompany a young fellow should choose, mother thinks. " That was begging the main issue, of course. "I don't see much of the older men. They're mostly smoking downstairs, and I don't care a bit for that. But their talk is often worth listeningto. People who just keep in one little round have no idea how rich theworld is growing intellectually, scientifically; and on what broad linesit is being laid. " "It is not the men altogether. Ben, you don't go anywhere else. Perhapsit would be wisdom to enlarge your acquaintance among girls, youngladies, " and Joe gave a short laugh that betrayed the effort. "I don't care a penny for girls in general, " said Ben, with elderlygravity. "Delia sometimes asks them in; and we seldom have as good atime. She's a host in herself; and I've always liked her. " "You haven't had a very wide experience. And you are too young to makeup your mind about--anything. " Ben started up suddenly and flushed. What a fine, strong, solid face hehad! It wasn't the face of one turned about with every wind of doctrine;it was not as handsome as Jim's bid fair to be, but it had hardly a weakor selfish line in it. Ben had always been such a good, generous, steadyboy. "You don't mean, " he began with a little gasp, --"Joe, you can't thinkthat mother--that any one would object if the time came for me to--tomarry Delia?" "You are too young to think of such things, Ben, " said his brother, gently. "Why--I've been thinking of it ever since Mr. Theodore came home. Wewere talking one time about going to Europe--" "Are you really engaged, Ben?" The young fellow laughed and blushed. "Well--I suppose not exactly, " he answered slowly. "We've never come tothat boshy stuff you find now and then in stories. But we know all abouteach other's plans; and we like so many of the same things; and wealways feel so comfortable together, not a bit as if we were trigged upin Sunday clothes. I don't think she's the most beautiful girl in theworld; but she has lovely eyes, and I've never seen a handsome girl Ihave liked as well. Steve chose his own wife, and so did John. Cleanthe's a splendid housekeeper; but she doesn't have time to read anewspaper. Dolly's well informed, and has something fresh to talk about. But it seems to me Margaret is always caring about society andetiquette, and who is in our set, and a hundred things that bore me. Phil has all his life been used to style, so Margaret's just the one forhim. And why shouldn't I have just the one for me?" Joe laughed heartily then. "I'd wait a year or two, " he answered drily. "You are not out of yourtime; and it is an unwise thing to take the responsibilities of life tooearly. Delia may fancy some one else. " "Oh, no, she won't, " replied Ben, confidently. "We just suit. I can'texplain it to you, Joe; but it is one of the things that seem to comeabout without any talking. Are some things ordained? I should be awfulsorry to have mother object to it; but I know Dolly would stand by uswhen the time came. " "Well--don't hurry; and, Ben, take the little comments patiently. Ifmother was convinced that it was for your happiness, she would consent. We all know there are unwise marriages, unhappy ones, as well. " "Oh, we're not in any hurry! You see, Delia is really needed at home. The old aunt is awfully fond of her. And she's so interested in herstories. We have such fun planning them out; and she does some capitallittle sketches. " Joe nodded in a friendly manner, as if he did not altogether disapprove. But there was a belief that literary women could not make good wives. People quoted Lady Bulwer and Lady Byron; and yet right in the city werewomen of literary proclivities living happily with their husbands. And Joe had found careless, fretful, indifferent wives and poorhousekeepers among women who could not even have written a coherentaccount-book. Come to think, he liked Delia a good deal himself. And ifshe wasn't such a great worker, she did have the art of making acheerful, attractive home, and putting everybody at ease. The new woman and cooking-schools were in the far future. Every mother, if she knew enough, trained her daughter to make a good wife, to buyproperly, to cook appetisingly if not always hygienically, to make herhusband's shirts, and do the general family sewing, to keep her houseorderly, to fight moths and mice, and to give company teas with the bestchina and the finest tablecloth. To be sure there was a little seething of unrest. Mrs. Bloomer had putforth a new costume that shocked the feminine world, though they werecomplaining of the weight of heavy skirts and the various devices fordistending them. Lucretia Mott and some other really fine women wereadvocating the wider education of the sex. Women were being brought tothe fore as teachers in schools, and higher institutions were beingdiscussed. There was a Mrs. Bishop who had preached; there were womenwho lectured on various subjects. The sewing-machine was making its way; and the argument in its favourwas that it would save a woman's strength and give her more leisure. Butemployment of any kind out of the house _was_ considered derogatoryunless one had no father or brother to supply her needs. Still, the old simple life was going out of date. There was more style;and some leaders of opinion professed to be shocked at the extravaganceof the day. There was a sudden influx of people up-town. There were newstores and offices. One wondered where all the people came from. But NewYork had taken rapid strides in her merchant-marine. The fastest vesselsin the China trade went out of her ports. The time to both Californiaand China was shortened by the flying clippers. The gold of thatwonderful land of Ophir was the magic ring that one had only to rub, ifhe could get hold of it, and work wonders. But the little girl went on her quiet way. They were finding friends inthe new neighbourhood; yet Daisy Jasper could not be superseded. Everyletter was carefully treasured; and, oh, how many things she found tosay in return. They kept up the intimacy with the Deans, though Josephine seemed almosta young woman. Mr. Reed enjoyed the pleasant home wonderfully. Charlesspent much of his leisure over music, of which he was passionately fond. He and Jim were not so intimate. Jim was going with a gayer lot of youngfellows, while Charles was seriously considering his life-plans. CHAPTER XIV AMONG GREAT THINGS Were people more enthusiastic in old New York than they are at the endof the century? We have done so much, we have had so many wonderfulhappenings since then. To be sure, Dickens had been over and made, people thought, a somewhat caustic return for the hospitable welcome;Harriet Martineau had made a tour, and gone home rather favourablyimpressed; and the winter before the intellectual circle--and it wasgetting to be quite notable--had honoured the Swedish novelist, Frederica Bremer, and been really charmed by her unaffected sweetness. If they were not quite ready to take up her theories for the advancementof women, they fell to reading the delightful "Neighbours" and "Home. "And now there was to be another visitant, "The Swedish Nightingale. " For Mr. Barnum was still the prince of entertainers. Theatres waxed andwaned, and new stars came to the front who had still their laurels towin; people strove for cards to the Steven's Terrace, just back ofColumbia College on Park Place. Bleecker Street was not out of date, though Mrs. Hamilton Fish had gone up to Stuyvesant Square, and wasgathering about her a political clique. There were card-parties anddances; there were Christy's Minstrels and the Hutchinson family; andsome of the more intellectual circles had conversaziones where the besttalent displayed itself. Still, Barnum could not be crowded out. Nosarcasm withered him; and his variety was infinite. It was a safe placefor mothers to go and take their children. The men had formed severalambitious clubs, and were beginning to entertain themselves. Jenny Lind had already captivated Europe. Mr. Barnum judiciously broughtinterest up to fever heat. After the bargain was made known, and theyoung singer had taken her passage with her suite, a musical ragepervaded the very city. The streets leading to the wharf were throngedby crowds in the wildest enthusiasm. Triumphal arches were built acrossCanal Street, and as she came down the gang-plank of the steamer, shoutsrent the very air. The young traveller and poet, Bayard Taylor, had captured the prizeoffered for the finest ode to be sung at her first concert. Two hundreddollars seemed a large price at that time, as Tennyson had not beenoffered a thousand for a poem. So great was the inquiry for tickets, that they were sold at auction a few days previous. And Mr. Genin, aBroadway hatter, signalised himself by making the highest bid for aticket, --two hundred and twenty-five dollars. Over one thousand ticketswere sold on the first day. The concert was to be at Castle Garden. At five, the doors were opened, and people began to throng in, though each seat had been secured to itsproper owner; and by eight, the audience was in a perfect transport ofexpectation. It was said to be the largest audience assembled to listento her. And when she was led on the stage by her manager, the enthusiasmwas beyond description. It seemed to divine beforehand that thefair-haired Swedish songstress would meet all expectations; and shepassed beyond it. Ben had been caught by the enthusiasm, and squandered his savings on aticket. He and Jim had been in the crowd around the hotel, that firstnight when the New York musical society had serenaded her, and she hadbowed from the old stone balcony to the admiring crowds. "There isn't any word to express it, " declared Ben, at thebreakfast-table the next morning. "Joe, you must hear her, andHanny--all of you. Never mind the cost. " "Ben, you have lost your senses, " said his mother, with a touch of herold sharpness. "As if we were all millionaires! And I have heard peoplesing before. " "Not anything like that. You can't imagine such melody. And theenthusiasm of the crowd is worth something!" The little girl looked up wistfully. She was beginning to understand thevalue of money. "Yes, " returned Joe; "Hanny must hear her. I wouldn't have her miss itfor anything. But the tickets won't be so high after a little. " They dropped to regular prices, but that was high for the times; and therush continued unabated. New York broke out in a Jenny Lind furore. There were gloves, and hats, and shawls, and gowns, beautiful littletables, and consoles, and furniture of all sorts that bore her name. Thebakers made Jenny Lind cake. What a time there was! Enthusiastic adorerstook her carriage from its shafts, and dragged it from Castle Garden tothe hotel. Was New York old in those days? Rather, it was the glowing, fervid impetuosity of early youth. And the serenade, when Broadway was jammed for blocks, and lighted bytorches in the street, and illuminations in the houses and stores. Therewas a wonderful cornetist, Koenig, who could have won another Eurydicefrom the shades with his playing. Out on the balcony he stood and movedthe crowd with his melody. Then she came out beside him, and, in thehush, a thousand times more appreciative than the wildest applause, themagnificent voice sang to its large, free audience, "Home, Sweet Home, "as no one will ever hear it sung again. That alone would be fame enoughfor any writer of song! The furore did not abate. But they must all go, --Stephen and Dolly, Margaret and her husband, Joe and the little girl, and her father. "It is nonsense for an old fellow like me, " he declared, halfhumourously. "But I shall like it so much better, and then we can talk it overafterward. That's half the pleasure. " She looked so wistful out of her soft eyes, and patted his hand with hercaressing little fingers, of course he couldn't say No. It was so much harder to persuade Mrs. Underhill. "It certainly _was_wicked to spend so much money just to hear one woman sing. She had heardthe 'Messiah, ' with Madame Anna Bishop in it; and she never againexpected to hear anything so beautiful this side of heaven. " They carried the day, however, in spite of her objections. Castle Gardenlooked like fairyland, with its brilliant lights, its hundred ushers inwhite gloves and rosettes, their wands tipped with ribbon as if for somegrand ball. The quiet was awe-inspiring. One did not even want towhisper to his neighbour, but just sit in fascinated silence and wonderwhat it would be like. Then Jenny Lind was led on the stage, and the entire audience rose withone vast, deafening cheer, --a magnificent one, as hearty as on her firstnight. It seemed as if they would never stop. There was a cloud ofwaving handkerchiefs, shaking out fragrance in the air. A simple Swedish maiden in her gown of soft, white silk, with no blazeof diamonds, and just one rose low down in her banded hair, only hergracious sweetness and simplicity, a thousand times finer and moreeffective than flashing beauty. She has heard the applause many a timebefore, in audiences of crowned heads; and this from the multitude isjust as sweet. When all is listening, attentive silence, she begins "Casta Diva. " "Harkto the voice, " and every one listens with such intensity that themagnificent sound swells out and fills the farthest space. There is nostriving for effect. A woman singing with a God-given voice, in simplethanks for its ownership, not a queen bidding for admiration. Had anyvoice ever made such glorious melody, or so stirred human souls? The applause has in it an immensity of appreciation, as if it couldnever get itself wholly expressed. Then another favourite, which everybody sang at for years afterward: "Idreamt I dwelt in marble halls. " In some of the sorrows of herwomanhood, the little girl was to recall the sweet refrain-- "That you loved me still the same. " Then "Comin' thro' the Rye, " with a lilt and dainty deliciousness thatone never can forget. But "Home, Sweet Home, " moves to tears andenthusiasm. Surely, no voice ever put such pathos, such marvelloussweetness, into it! And sometimes now, when the little girl looks over to the other country, one of the many joys she thinks will be hearing such blessed voices asJenny Lind's and Parepa Rosa's. You could not shake her faith inimmortality and all these precious joys to come. She was quite a heroine at school for many days to come. People did notthink it worth while to spend so much money on children at that time. Margaret and her mother had compromised on the school question, orrather Margaret had yielded. Hanny would graduate at the end of the year. Margaret preferred astylish boarding-school after that. The Hoffmans were quite in the swimof that period. The Doctor's connections, and Margaret's beauty, madethem welcome in circles that were beginning to grow a little exclusive, and demand grandfathers for vouchers. There was a little talk, eventhen, about _nouveaux riches_; but, after all, no one seemed toabsolutely despise wealth. Margaret was really very ambitious for the younger members of thefamily. Jim, with his good looks and the brightness that was akin towit, was her favourite. Then he took naturally to elegance. Dolly was very happy and jolly with her husband and children. They livedin a very pleasant manner; and society courted Dolly as well. Stephenwas prospering wonderfully, and had a fine standing among business-men. Hanny was extravagantly fond of the children. Stevie called her AuntieNan, now; but Annie said simply Nan. Margaret had adopted it as well. Hannah was rather awkward and old-fashioned. Even Ben sometimeswarbled, -- "Nannie, wilt thou gang wi' me?" She had another great and unexpected treat a few weeks later. She hadgone on Friday to make a real visit at Dolly's, and go from there toschool on Monday morning. And, fortunately for her, she had taken herbest Sunday frock, which she was wearing a good deal lest she mightoutgrow it. And who should drop in but Delia Whitney. Whether Dolly suspected allwas not clear sailing for the young people, no one could have told fromher friendly manner. She had taken quite a liking to Delia, and was muchinterested in her success. They talked over the Jenny Lind concert. Delia had attended two. She wasgoing about quite a good deal among literary people. "And to-morrow night, The. And I are going to take Ben to the Osgoods. Oh, Hanny, that's the author of the little song you sing:-- "'I love you, I adore you; but I'm talking in my sleep. ' And she's just lovely. " "Oh, " cried Hanny, "I should like to see her, truly. You know I told youabout seeing her in the carriage when she went up to Mr. Poe's. " "Well, can't you go? The. Has a standing invitation to bring friends. Why, Nora has gone! She sang up there one evening, and did wonderfullywell. Her teacher thinks in a year or two she can try concerts; only itisn't best to strain her voice now. And you may see some famous people, and some yet to be famous, myself among them. " "Oh, I don't care about the others, " said Hanny, naïvely. "And if youare quite sure--Dolly, ought I to go?" "Why not?" answered Dolly. "It's fortunate that you brought your bestfrock; though we could have sent for it. Why, yes, if you would liketo. " Hanny drew a long breath. Twice of late her mother had found excuseswhen she had asked to go down to Beach Street. She, too, had a vaguefeeling there was something in the air; but her simple nature was notsuspicious. And it wasn't like going to the Whitney's. She couldn't dosuch a thing without asking permission. Delia finished her call, kissed the babies and Hanny, and said theywould all be up at eight, sharp. "I'll have Hanny in apple-pie order, " answered Dolly, with her brightsmile. Stephen was delightful in his family; and he had the same odd littlelook in his eye as her father, suggestive of fun. He was teaching her toplay checkers; and, although Dolly helped sometimes, she found it hardwork to beat him. Dolly sat by embroidering. The next morning they drove down-town and did some shopping, and calledon Annette, who made them stay to luncheon. Mrs. Beekman was quitepoorly now, and had grown very, very stout. She said, "she had lost allher ambition. It was a great thing to be young, and have all your lifebefore you. " It was so delightful; and Dolly was sure they wouldn't have many moresuch Indian summery days, so they went over to Washington Parade-ground, where the style promenaded on Saturday afternoon. Hanny wore her bestdress and a pretty cloth cape trimmed with a little edge of fur. Theytook Stevie, who was delighted of course, and who ran about, very proudof his new jacket and trousers. Many of the promenaders nodded to young Mrs. Stephen Underhill. Bellesand beaux went by; prettily dressed children; stylish little boys, whocarried canes, and had long tassels drooping over one side of theircaps. Hanny enjoyed it all very much. Then after supper, Dolly put a fine lace tucker over the edging at theneck of her frock, and found a blue sash, and curled her hair so as tomake it all wavy at the edge of her forehead; and there was a verysweet, attractive girl, if she wasn't a beauty. Mr. Theodore Whitney seemed very much amused and pleased, and politelyinquired if he might be Miss Underhill's escort. Delia looked unusuallynice in her new brown silk and some beautiful old lace Aunt Clem hadgiven her. People did not wait until ten o'clock for "functions" to begin; neitherdid they give them that uneuphonious name. Hanny had read and heard agood deal since her first visit to genius in the plain, poor, littlecottage; and this certainly had more of the true aspect one connectswith poesy. The two rooms were daintily furnished; pictures everywhere. Mr. Osgood was a painter, and his portraits were quite celebrated. Thecurtains fell with a graceful sweep. The light brocade of the chairsthrew out glisteny shades; the little tables set about held books andengravings, and great portfolios leaned against the wall. There was acase of choicely-bound books, and an open piano. Flowers were in vaseson brackets, and low, quaint china bowls. It was like a lovely pictureto the little girl; but she felt afraid of the people talking soearnestly, and wondered if they were all poets and authors. The party greeted their hostess, and Hanny was introduced. Was it theglamour of the summer and the blue gown that had made Mrs. Osgood solovely sitting there in the carriage? Now she was thin, and her hair wasbanded down in the fashion of the day; then it had been flying inringlets. Her gown was black silk, and that made her look rather grave;but when she smiled, all the old sweetness was there. Hanny knew herthen. Delia took charge of Hanny, and seated her by a table with a book ofchoice engravings. Ben had found some one he knew, and Mr. Whitney hadgone to talk to General Morris. A tall young lady came over and begancomplimenting Miss Whitney on her story in Godey's, and Delia flushed upwith pleasure. Then she begged to introduce her to a friend. She wroteverses only, and her friend had composed music for them. Hanny kept watching her hostess. She knew some of the guests, fromhaving had them pointed out to her in the street. There was Mr. Greeley, thin of face and careless of attire in those early days. In the streethe could always be told by a shaggy light coat that he wore. A very sweet-looking elderly lady came up presently and spoke to Delia, who was in full flow of eager talk with the young musical composer. "Isn't that your sister, or your niece, --the one who sang here some timeago? I saw her come in with Mr. Whitney. " "Oh, no, " returned Delia. "But she is a very dear friend, --Mr. Underhill's sister. " "Mr. Stephen Underhill?" "Yes, she is his sister; but it is Mr. Ben Underhill who is here. " "I know Mr. And Mrs. Stephen Underhill very well. She was a Beekman. AndDr. Hoffman's wife belongs to the family. " Delia turned and introduced Mrs. Kirtland. She had such an attractive face, framed in with rows of snowy puffs, quite gone out of date, but becoming to her nevertheless. "I feel that I almost know you, " she said sweetly, "though I halfmistook you for Miss Whitney; but she is dark, and you are fair, so Iought not to have made the blunder. I know your brother Stephen and hiswife. " "Oh!" Hanny gave it a glad little sound, and smiled, as she put out hersmall hand. Mrs. Kirtland took the unoccupied seat. "I suppose you have hardly begun life, you look so young. But no doubtyou are a genius of some sort. Mrs. Osgood is so extraordinarily good toyoung geniuses. " "No, I haven't any genius, " and Hanny flushed, as she gave a beguilingsmile that lighted up her face. "And though there are a good many ofus, we have not even a family genius. " "That depends upon whether you restrict the word to painting a pictureor writing a poem or a story. Mr. Stephen Underhill is very highlyspoken of as one of the promising young business-men. And is it yourbrother who was in the office of old Dr. Fitch, and in the hospital?" "Yes, ma'am, " returned Hanny, with a glow of pleasure. Young people werestill expected to say "Yes, sir, " and "Yes, ma'am, " to their elders, outof respect. "That does very well for one family, though the Whitneys seem to have agood share. Miss Delia is quite a success, I hear. And we always findMr. Whitney very entertaining. Have you known them long?" "Oh, for years, seven almost. And we used to be neighbours. " "A friendship is said to be certain when you have held it seven years. Have you met Mrs. Osgood before?" "No, ma'am; but I saw her quite a long while ago at Fordham. " "At Fordham! Then you must have known the poet Edgar Allan Poe. " "A little, " returned Hanny, timidly. "There's such a romance to his life at that place, --his lovely youngwife dying, and the devotion of Mrs. Clemm. Oh, tell me about yourepisode!" Hanny told the story, very simply, charmingly as well. "Oh, " exclaimed Mrs. Kirtland, "Frances must hear that!" Then sheglanced around. Mrs. Osgood was no longer receiving guests, but minglingwith the company. Some one was going to the piano; and everybodylistened to an exquisite voice singing a beautiful Italian melody. Whenthat was finished, a young man who was to be famous in after years reada sweet, simple poem that touched every one's heart. Then the talk beganin little groups again. Mrs. Kirtland signalled to her hostess, who came over to them. "Frances, " she said, "here is a youthful worshipper who remembers you asa lovely lady all in cerulean blue, and with long curls, going up to thePoe cottage. See how you have lived in the child's memory. And she singsa song of yours. " Hanny's face was scarlet for a moment; but Mrs. Osgood sat down besideher, and they talked of the poet and Mrs. Clemm, and touched lightlyupon the sad after-happenings. He had at one time been a frequent guest. There was even yet a deep interest in him, though opinion was sharplydivided. And Mrs. Osgood had known the beautiful Virginia, whose sadfate even then was hardly realised. They talked a little about "AnnabelLee" and the "high-born kinsman;" and Hanny thought she had a delightfultime. There was coffee and chocolate and lemonade, with plates of dainty cakesand confectionery, in an ante-room. Then a gentleman sang ahunting-song in a fine tenor voice; and another paper on Art was read. If people came early, they also dispersed at a reasonable hour. It wasnot quite ten when Delia, Hanny, and Ben made their adieus to thehostess, who stooped and kissed Hanny for "old remembrance' sake, " shesaid. Mr. Whitney was going down with some of the older men. Ben saw hislittle sister safe in Stephen's hands, and then went on with Delia. "I've had such a splendid time!" exclaimed Hanny. "I wouldn't havemissed it for the world. " When she told the home-folks about it, her mother made no comment; butJoe and her father were very much interested. And when, not long afterthat, "the high-born kinsman" came for the charming woman who had givenmuch pleasure in her brief way through the world, and who had notdisdained to write a verse and her name in many a society album, Hannyfelt quite as if she had lost a dear friend. Two other poets, sisters, Alice and Ph[oe]be Cary, came to New York, andheld receptions that were quite famous as time went on. To be sure, there was the old name of blue-stocking applied to them now and then;for people, women especially, were taking a wider interest in otheraffairs beside literature, prefiguring the new woman. Miss Delia Whitneywas very much interested. They were not quite up to clubs in those days, or she would have been a charter-member. But the child Hanny had enough to do to study her lessons, practise hermusic, and make her visits, with a little sewing in between. She didmake her father a set of shirts; but underclothing of all kinds wasbeing manufactured; and though the older-fashioned women sneered at it, as rather poor stuff, the men seemed to like it. At gentlemen'sfurnishing stores, you could buy shirts cut and made in the lateststyle, the neckbands of which always seemed to fit, or else the mendiscreetly refrained from grumbling when they had spent so much money. And women began to find it eased their burdens. No one wanted home-knit stockings, the English and French and Germanssent us such perfect ones. White was still all the style, unless youwore black, or blossom-coloured silk. Of course there were common peoplewho put slate-colour on their children, because white made so muchwashing. And as for pantalets, there were none left. There were other people called away beside poets, and changes made infamilies. Grandmother Underhill went to the country wherein the faithfulabide, and Aunt Katrina. Grandmother Van Kortlandt came to make her homewith her daughter. Aunt Crete and Cousin Joanna Morgan, and here andthere some of the old people, as well as the young, passed over thenarrow river. But there seemed new babies all around. Dolly and Margaret had littlesons, and Cleanthe a daughter. John was quite jealous of Hanny's notice;for his little girl was fair, and had light hair, and they were quitesure it looked like her. John wanted to call her Hannah Ann. "Oh, no, " said Hanny; "there are so many beautiful names now!" Then shelaughed. "I shall not promise her a hundred dollars, nor my string ofgold beads. I am not sorry, for I have loved both grandmothers; and oneis gone--" "Why don't we name her after _her_ grandmothers?" exclaimed Cleanthe. "One of hers is gone, " and she sighed. "It seems such a long name for awee baby. " "Margaret Elizabeth, --it is a beautiful name, " said Hanny, with delight. "Mother will give her something, I know. And I will be her godmother, and endow her for the Elizabeth. " "With all your worldly goods?" asked John. "Not _quite_ all--" "You'll be impoverished, Hanny, " interrupted John, with a glint ofhumour. "Six nephews and nieces already! And there are four of us stillto marry, if George ever comes back. He hasn't made his fortune yet. Hewas crazy to go. The good times here suit me well enough. " Grandmother Underhill put fifty dollars in the bank for the new baby, and gave it a silver spoon. Hanny gave her a silver cup with her nameengraved on it, and, with Dolly's help, made her a beautiful christeningrobe, which Cleanthe saved up for her, the sewing and tucking on it wasso exquisite. She used to show it to visitors with a great deal ofpride. CHAPTER XV THE BEGINNINGS OF ROMANCE There was Saratoga and Newport; and Long Branch laid claim to somedistinction; even Cape May was not unknown to fame, --still the Jerseycoast, with all its magnificent possibilities, really had not beendiscovered, and was rather contemptuously termed sand wastes. It wasgetting to be quite the thing to go off awhile in the summer. Some ofthe style had spent a "season" in London, and seen the young Queen andthe Prince Consort and the royal children, and gone over to Paris to see"the nephew of his uncle, " who was taking a hand in the new FrenchRepublic. But plain people still visited their relatives a good deal. Ben hadtaken a holiday, and gone up to Tarrytown after Hanny; and they had madepilgrimages along to different cousins. They sat on the old porch atFordham; but one of the cousins was married, and gone to her own home, taken the tall, bright-eyed young man who had been about so much theolden summer. It was really a delightful walk over there. Ben was finding out oddplaces for Delia, who was now interested in some Revolutionary sketches. They had explored Kingsbridge; they had found Featherbed Lane; theylearned the Harlem River once had borne the Indian name of Umscoota. Here, more than forty years before, Robert Macomb had built his dam, indefiance of certain national laws, as he wanted a volume of water forhis mill. Many and ineffectual were the efforts made to remove it by thesurrounding property-owners who had large and beautiful estates. For noone dreamed then that the great city would sometime absorb everything, and that here was to stand a beautiful bridge, the pride of the city. But the old dam was one dark night assaulted by a "piratical craft, "that demanded entrance, and, on being refused a right through thewaterway, demolished the old affair; and the freed and happy river wenton to the sea unvexed, and still kept Manhattan an island, to be bridgedover as convenience required. Down in one of the pretty valleys was the home of Cousin Jennie, thatHanny always connected with Mrs. Clemm and the poet. All about weregreen fields and orchards, hills and valleys. Between them and theHarlem lay a high wooded ridge from whose top you could see the Hudson, and the Harlem was like a cord winding in and out of green valleys. There was Fort George and Harlem plains; and Hanny recalled the two oldUnderhill ladies whose lives had reached back to Revolutionary times. They rambled about the historic ground, peaceful enough then. There wasthe old Poole house, the De Voe house, and further up the Morrismansion. What names they recalled!--Washington, Rochambeau, the HessianGeneral Knyphausen. And then Cousin Jennie's husband pointed out a place with a romanticstory. When the Hessian Army had swept on in the steps of GeneralWashington's retreating men, they had been encamped for some time, foraging about for food and demanding supplies of the farmers, --anill-fed, and ill-clothed set of conscripts, without much enthusiasm, many of them torn from home and friends, neither knowing nor caringabout the land where they had gone to fight, and perhaps lay theirbones. Among them a young fellow, Anthony Woolf by name, whose mother, in adistrict in distant Germany, had yielded to the blandishments of asecond husband, thus rendering her son liable to conscription, as he wasno longer her sole protector. Young Anthony knew his stepfather grudgedhim the broad acres of his patrimony, and guessed whose influence hadsent the press-gang one night, and hurried him off, without even agood-bye to his mother, to the nearest seaport town, and there embarkedhim for a perilous ocean-journey, to fight against people struggling fortheir liberty. He had fought, like many of the others, under a sort of rebelliousprotest. Several had deserted: some joining the American army fromsympathy. But Anthony was sick of carnage and marching andsemi-starvation. Winter was coming on. So, one night, he stole outunperceived, and hurried down to the river's edge. On the other side, at some distance, he could see a faint gleam of light between theleafless trees. He had watched it longingly. There were many kindlydisposed people who gave shelter to deserters. He threw off his heavycoat, and his boots, with the soles worn through, and made a plunge. Thewater was cold, the way longer than it looked; but he buffeted acrossand crawled out in the autumn blast, dripping and shivering, and ran upto the kitchen steps, that looked more friendly than the great wideporch and stately doorway. The maids were frightened, and a man came, towhom he told his story in broken English, and was taken in, warmed andfed and clothed, and kept out of sight for several days. In his gratitude and delight, he made himself useful. He had beenaccustomed to farming and herds and flocks. The old Morris estate waslarge; and when the British Army was safely out of the way, there waswork in plenty; and a faithful hand Anthony Woolf proved. When the long summer days came the next year, there was no end ofspinning in the great house, where linen and woollen were made for thefamily use. The farmers' daughters used to be eager for the chances; andone day, when pretty Phebe Oakley's grandmother was going over to thegreat house, as it was so often called, the young girl begged her tospeak a good word for her, as she could spin both wool and flax. "They'll be glad to have you, " said grandmother on her return. "But, Phebe, they have a young Woolf over there; so look out he doesn't catchyou. " Phebe tossed her head. She was in no hurry to be caught. And yet it sofell out that when Anthony Woolf had saved up a little money, andnegotiated for a farm over in the valley, he caught pretty Phebe Oakley, and built a house for her, and prospered. They looked at the place where the Hessian Army had been encamped, andtraced the course of the young fellow's daring swim. And here was theold part of the house he had built, and where he had outlived his ownson, but left grandsons behind him, one of whom had married CousinJennie. Grandmother was still alive, --a little, rather-faded, andshrunken old lady who had once been pretty Phebe Oakley, who lived withher daughter in the old part. "There are lots of romances lying about unused, " said Ben. "I shouldlike to have a story-teller's gift myself. " Hanny was so interested in young Mr. Woolf that she had to tell Joe allthe story when she came home; and he said they must go up the historicHarlem some day. And he said Umscoota meant "Stream among the greensedge. " This year it had to be Rutger's Institute for Hanny. There were a greatmany new schools; but Dolly and Margaret carried the day. She thought atfirst she shouldn't like it at all; but when she came to know the girls, she began to feel quite at home, and, in some queer fashion, as if shewere growing up. But she didn't seem to grow very fast. Ben came to his twenty-first birthday. He was a tall, well-grown youngfellow, and often surprised Jim by the amount of knowledge he possessed. And then he went over to the "Tribune" office, and sometimes tried hishand at queer, out-of-the-way bits of past lore that people were almostforgetting. Just how it came about, he never clearly remembered himself;but one night, when Delia had seemed unusually attractive to three orfour young men who haunted the place, he rose abruptly and said he mustgo. There was a set look in his usually pleasant face, and he shut hislips, as if something had displeased him. Delia went to the hall door. As he turned, she caught his arm. "What is it, Ben?" she said in a hurried whisper. "Something hashappened to vex you. " "Something!" with youthful bitterness. "We never have any good times anymore. There's always such a crowd--" "Oh, Ben! Are you jealous? Why, you know I like you better than any ofthem! Gordon only comes to get ideas; he's so very anxious to dosomething in literature. As if I could help anybody!" and she laughed. "The others come for fun. You're worth them all, Ben. Oh, don't go awayangry!" with a voice of tender pleading. Ben felt suddenly foolish. Was he angry over such a trifle? Then heglanced up in Delia's face; he was on the step below. What was there inher eyes; and she had said she liked him better than any of them, eventhat handsome Van Doren. Well, he was most jealous of Van Doren, who wasin his last year at Columbia, and whose father was rich and indulgent. "Oh, " he said with an indrawn breath, "you must know that I love you. I've always loved you, I think. " She put her arms about his neck, and kissed him. It was veryreprehensible, I suppose. Young people were honestly friendly in thosedays, and seldom had a chaperone; yet they did not play at love, unlessthey were real flirts; and a flirt soon gained an unenviable reputation. "Come down a ways with me, " he entreated, with a little tremulous soundin his voice that touched her. The street was very quiet. He put his arm about her, and drew her closeto his side. "Oh, it's cool out here, and you've no wrap!" He was suddenly verycareful of her. "But I wanted to say--it isn't only a like, but a love. You _do_ love me, Delia?" "I love you, love you! I love you and yours. " "Of course we will have to wait. We are both young. But I'm doing a bitof outside work, and have a chance to come up--" "If we did marry, you'd have to come and live with me; for I havepromised Aunt Patty never to leave her. I haven't really thought aboutmarriage. There is so much to my life all the time. Oh, yes, we canwait. But you must not feel afraid, Ben. I like fun and nonsense, andplenty of people to talk to. I'm not sure I shall make a good wife, even, though both of my sisters do. " "I want you, good or bad, " said Ben, sturdily. They both laughed, and then he kissed her again. "Oh, you must go back! You'll get an awful cold. " "I never do take cold. I'll run like a flash. Come to-morrow night. Oh, Ben!" "Oh, Delia, my darling!" Then she flew back. How long had she been gone? She re-entered the roomwith a most nonchalant air; and in two minutes she had them all in awhirl of conversation, even if they did look rather curious. Ben sauntered up home. It was quite early. Hanny was upstairs reading tograndmother, who went to bed at nine, and liked to have Hanny come inand read to her. Joe sat in his office, poring over an abstruse medicalarticle. He glanced up and nodded. "Joe, " the lad began, with a bright flush that gave a certain tendernessto his eyes, which were dewy sweet, --"Joe, listen a minute. I am engagedto Delia Whitney, --just to-night. But I hate mean, underhand things. Iwanted some one to know it. And--shall I tell mother? Of course shewon't like it; though I don't see why. " "Ben, I don't believe I would just now. You are young, and you won't bemarried under a year or two. No, I would wait a little. She may settleto it presently, " said the elder, thoughtfully. "I don't want her to feel hurt. I'd just like to go and tell her, I amso happy. " He looked so brave and manly that Joe was almost sorry not to send him. But he _did_ know that his mother objected to it strenuously, and mightsay something that would cut Ben to the heart. Latterly, he had been cherishing a vague belief that the affair wouldend in a sort of a good comradeship. "Thank you, " Ben laid his hand on the elder's shoulder. "You are a deargood brother, Joe. Don't you suppose you will ever marry? No one will bequite good enough for you. You're a splendid fellow. " Joe went back to his book; but it had lost interest. Well--it was ratherqueer. He had been made very welcome in several houses; and Margaret hadgiven delicate little suggestions. But he had never cared for any one. He would be nine and twenty on his next birthday, --quite a bachelor. It was somewhat curious; but Ben, who had never cared for fixing up, though he was always clean, suddenly developed a new care for his cuffsand collars, and indulged in light-coloured neckties, and gloves that hecould no longer "run and jump in, " as Jim had accused him of doing. Hewent out Sunday evening to tea, which was a new thing, though he oftenstayed at the Whitneys' through the week. There was a certain air ofbeing of supreme consequence to some one; Mrs. Underhill rather resentedit. Jim was very gay this winter. A good-looking young collegian who wasbright and full of fun, and could sing college glees in a fine tenorvoice, tell a capital story, and dance well, was not likely to gobegging. One evening he stumbled over his old friend Lily Ludlow, whom he had notseen for two years, --a tall, stylish girl, handsome in the ordinaryacceptation of the word, but lacking some of the finer qualities, if youstudied her closely. There had been some great changes in her life. Herfather had died suddenly, leaving but small provision for them. Chrishad her hands full trying to live pretentiously on a rather smallincome. They had found an elderly aunt of Mr. Ludlow's who, in her day, had beenquite a society woman. She had an old-fashioned but well furnished housein Amity Street, and had not given up all her acquaintances. The housewas to go to her husband's family when she was done with it, there beingno children; and her income ended with her life, so there was nothing toexpect from her. "But I do want a housekeeper and a nurse, sometimes, " she said toMrs. Ludlow. "If you like to fill the place, you will have a good homeand good wages. And Lily's fine looks ought to get her a husband. " Amity Street still had a rather select air, if its fashion was fallingoff a little. The house was old, but not out of date, and quiteimposing; and the big doorplate, with "Nicoll" on it, stamped it asundeniably aristocratic, Miss Lily thought. She urged her mother toaccept it. "I don't feel as if I could be at that queer old woman's beck and call. I remember when we were first married she said some very mean things. Myfamily was quite as good as your father's, Lily. Neither of his brothersamounted to much, though his sister married a rich Southerner and wentoff to forget all her relatives. We've never asked anything of theLudlows, and I don't want to now. " "But it will only be for a year or two. Of course I shall marry; andthen you will have two homes. " "I'd a sight rather go with Chris. And if you could teach--seems to meyou might, with your education. And you have had two lovers already. " "Who couldn't take care of me. I am not going to marry that way. But, asAunt Nicoll says, 'We shall be sure of a good home. '" Lily gained her point. Early in the preceding spring they had gone toAmity Street. The spacious, old-fashioned parlours were a little out ofdate, but had been elegant in their day. Lily laid off her mourning, andfell heir to some handsome gowns that Chris helped her remodel. Mrs. Nicoll was queer and bad-tempered; and the difficulty had been to keepservants who would submit to such exactions. Matters went a littlesmoother; but poor Mrs. Ludlow had to suffer. Lily spent a month at Saratoga with Mrs. Nicoll and the maid. The oldlady was a good deal entertained by the airs and graces and bright waysof her grand-niece. Lily made several conquests; but the desirable offerof marriage was not forth-coming. Mrs. Nicoll gave a reception early in the season, --a thing she alwaysdid; and her friends attended with a certain kindly feeling that she wasold, and the duty might never be required of them again. Miss Lily madequite an impression; and cards and invitations were left for her. Andwhen she attended a dance at the Apollo Rooms, the height of herambition was reached. At a pretty private dance she met her school-day admirer again, andtried her charms, which had increased notably since that youthfulperiod. She did dance beautifully, and had no lack of the small talk ofthe day. Jim promised to call, and did so at an early date, rathersurprised at the solid elegance of the place. Lily expatiated skilfullyon dear old Aunt Nicoll, who _would_ have mother come and stay with her;since they were alone it seemed the best thing to do; and Aunt Nicollhad no near relatives of her own. There were plenty of her husband'sfamily "hungry for what she had, " said Lily, with a sort of sneer, as ifthey might find themselves mistaken in the end. Certainly, Jim thought, Lily had dropped in a clover-field. He foundthat Mrs. Nicoll was considered a rich woman. Lily was handsomelydressed, and no doubt she would be kindly remembered in the old lady'swill. Not that Jim was speculating on any part or lot in the matter. Hewas too young; he would have his three years in the law school, andafter that, getting established. Lily begged him to bring some of his friends. The house was lonely, withno young people for companionship; and she raised her eyes in the oldpleading fashion that even now had quite an effect upon him. Jim chose several young men that he associated with. Some of them hadsisters, who declared Miss Ludlow charming. She was not anxious now tohave any of the Underhills on her visiting-list; but she did mean tomake use of Jim. She had grown quite worldly-wise and experienced. Two of Jim's friends were generously supplied with pocket-money. One wasa young Virginian, Mr. Weir, the other, Harry Gaynor, and both spentlavishly. Flowers were costly then; and Lily was the recipient of many ahandsome bouquet. In return, she now and then gave a dainty supper, simple to be sure, or a card-party, with some delightful confections, and a little coffee or chocolate. Mrs. Nicoll always retired early, andtook some drops to make sure of sleeping the first part of the night, soshe was not easily disturbed. Then there were stars at the theatres. Parodi was emulating Jenny Lind, who had gone to Havana; and the houses were crowded, if the tickets werenot so high. It was so easy to spend money when an artful girl, withsoftest voice and bewitching eyes, planned for you. And it was so easyto borrow, when you had good friends. Miss Lily looked carefully over her ground; Harry Gaynor was gay anddelightful, but one couldn't be quite sure he was not flirting. Andthough Mr. Weir had plenty of money, there was a large family ofbrothers and sisters, and they lived on an extensive plantation milesaway from any considerable town. There was a Mr. Lewis, not so young, who had an interest in an old well-established leather firm that hadbeen left him by an uncle. There were some non-eligibles. Mrs. Nicoll had said, in her caustic way:-- "You make the most of your time, Lily Ludlow. I'm past eighty, and youmay find me dead in my bed some morning. I have not a stiver to leaveany one; so don't you count on that. I can hardly pay my own way. " Still she had every luxury for herself; for years she had considerednothing but her own wants and indulgences. Poor Jim! In his young mannishness he was quite sure there was no dangerof falling in love; of course such a thing would be wildest folly. ButLily was very fascinating and very flattering. She put it on the scoreof old friendship; but, with a coquette's ardour, she did enjoy theyoung fellow's struggles to keep himself on a firm footing. And when hesaw Gaynor's attentions, and listened to Weir's rhapsodies, a passion ofboyish jealousy sprang up in his heart. Miss Lily kept her other admirers out of the way, except as she mightmeet them at dances or whist parties. She was not much in love with Mr. Lewis; he was slow and really conceited, and, for a young man, rathercareful of his money. If she only dared run the risk, and take Mr. Weir, who was to finish his college course in the summer! And then arose a newstar on her horizon. Mr. Williamson was forty and a widower; but he drove an elegant pair ofbays, belonged to a club, and had apartments at a hotel. She triedcaptivating simplicity, and succeeded, to her great surprise, though sheknew his habits were not irreproachable. She had begged of Mr. Lewis alittle time for consideration, when one morning Mr. Williamsonastonished her by a call, and an offer of his hand and fortune. Miss Ludlow did not show her amazement, neither did she jump at theoffer. She was very delicately surprised. Was he quite certain of hiswishes? And--it was so unexpected! So certain indeed that he would bring her a ring that very afternoon, and take her out driving, --a man of his years not to know his own mind! She could hardly believe her good fortune. For a fortnight sheengineered her way skilfully, still keeping Mr. Lewis in reserve. Andthen she was convinced, and dismissed him. "Guess who is engaged?" Harry Gaynor cried, one morning. "I never was sobeat in my life! Jim, maybe this will hit you hard. Seems to me you'vebeen rather distraught of late and sighing like a furnace. " "These exams are enough to make any one sigh. And I am way behind. Imust study day and night. " "There are always engagements at this season, and weddings at Easter, "returned Weir, laughingly. "That isn't guessing, Jim!" "Oh, bother! What do I care?" "Then your charmer told you last night?" "My charmer? What are you driving at, Gaynor?" "Oh, how innocent! Miss Lily Ludlow. " "I've met that Lewis there, " returned Jim, with an air of bravado, though he flushed a little. "He's a regular stick. " "But it isn't Lewis. It's that Gerald Williamson, --a man about town. Andthe queer thing is that he thinks he has struck a fortune. Do _you_know, Jim? Is she to be the old lady's heir?" Jim was silent. What should he say? "Of course she is, " said Weir. "That is--I think it depends on whetherMrs. Nicoll approves of the marriage. " He had turned very pale. "Are you sure it is Williamson?" asked Jim. "He announced it himself. My cousin heard him. And as for the oldlady--the house is willed away. I've heard some talk; I can't justremember what. She's been shrewdly giving the impression. " "It would be a shame to sell her to the highest bidder! And Williamson'sdouble her age. No sister of mine would be allowed to do such a thing. She can't love him! Why, she has only been driving out with him a fewtimes. " "If she's sold, she has done the business herself. She's a girl to lookout for the main chance. Weir, I hope you haven't been hovering too nearthe flame. The Ludlow is capital to flirt with, --quick, spicy, sentimental by spells, not the kind of a girl to waste herself on ayoung, impecunious fellow like our friend Jim, here, so he goesscot-free. Weir, I hope you're not hard hit. We've all had a good time;but I think now we must address ourselves to the examinations in hand, and let the girls go. Though I am in for two big weddings, presently. " There was a summons to the class-room that stopped the chaffing. Jimfelt very sober. Lily had indirectly led him to think she cared a greatdeal about him, and if matters only _were_ a little different! He oughtnot to get engaged; but the preference was flattering when a man likeWeir was head over heels in love with her! But to marry an old man like Gerald Williamson! thought the youngfellow, disdainfully. CHAPTER XVI COUNTING UP THE COST Jim failed miserably. What was the matter? He couldn't seem to rememberthe simplest thing. Did it make any difference to him whom she married?Well--if it _had_ been Weir; but that imperious, pretentious, half-dissipated Williamson, who report said had run though with onefortune, and two years ago had fallen heir to another! Why were somepeople so lucky! Grandmother Van Kortlandt had some money; but Hanny wasnamed for her, and Joe was a great favourite. Then Jim flushed hotly. The idea of counting on any one's money! Still he had a boyish, chivalric idea that he would like to snatch Lilyfrom this awful peril, as it seemed to him. Could it be really true? Theolder men said Williamson was a braggart. There might be no truth in it. He would ask Lily. Several days passed before Jim achieved his desire. Then, as he loiteredaround one afternoon, he saw Williamson leave the house. After a fewmoments he knocked. "Miss Lily is indisposed, and cannot see any one, " announced the maid. "She will see me, " returned Jim, with an air of dignity; and he walkedinto the parlour that had an atmosphere of twilight, quite determined toremain until she came down. She seemed in no hurry, and Jim's temper began to loose its serenity. The maid came and lighted the gas jet in the hall. Then there was arustle of silken garments on the stair. "Oh, Jim dear, " the entreating voice said, "I've had such a horridheadache all the afternoon. I've been in the bed. I really did not feelfit to see any one, " with a languid, indifferent air. And Williamson had just gone away! "So you will excuse me, if I'm stupid--" "Is the story true about your--your engagement?" asked the young fellow, abruptly. "My engagement? Well, I've had an offer of marriage, --two of them. Wouldn't you advise me to take the best one?" rather archly. The tone rang flippantly. Jim felt she was evading. "You see I can't be young always. And Aunt Nicoll may go without amoment's warning. She had a bad spell yesterday; and she does get insuch horrid tantrums! Mother is awfully tired of staying with her. Andmost girls get married--those who have a chance. " She ended with aforced little laugh. "Is it Williamson? You don't know the sort of man he is, " and Jim'svoice was husky with emotion. "Oh, everybody gets talked about sooner or later! He has been ratherwild; but he wants to settle down now. And I'm not a sentimental girl. Yes, I do think I'll take him, " hesitatingly. "Lily!" "Oh, Jim, you are very young and inexperienced! If you were ten yearsolder, there wouldn't be a man on the whole earth I'd marry as soon. Butyou know I said we could only be friends; and I hope you haven't beencherishing any silly romances about me, " tossing her head coquettishly. "I shall always like you, and I want us to keep friends. But you can'tunderstand all the reasons. Some girls might drag you into anengagement, and waste all your young years; but I could not be so meanto any friend I cared about. We have settled all this matter. " Her tone took on a rather sharp business accent. It was almost curt. Yes, it had been settled. Yet she had demanded a lover-like devotion, and allowed him to speculate on what might have been if she were rich orhe older. And though Jim's sturdy common-sense had kept him from goingvery deep, he felt wretched and jealous that any other man should havethe supreme right; and yet he had a conviction that the friendship orflirtation ought to end. "He thinks you are Mrs. Nicoll's heiress. " She gave a light laugh. "Oh, that will do to talk about; and she mayleave me a little. If I was her heiress--" The glance roused Jim's anger. He rose suddenly. "I hope you love Williamson, " he said, in a tone that he meant to soundbitterly cutting. "A girl who sells herself for money to such a man--" "Nonsense, Jim!" She rose also. "You'll find most of the world willconsider it a good marriage; and anyhow, I have to look out for myself. It's too bad to break up the pleasant times we've had this winter; butyou must not be angry. You will understand it better presently. Iwouldn't let you go off in this way if I hadn't such a wretchedheadache; but you will come in again. " Jim said good-evening with superb dignity. What a stylish fellow he was. Of course he felt a little "huffy" now; but next winter, when she had ahome of her own, she would give attractive parties, and invite Jim amongthe very first. By that time he would be over his boyish folly. And now, what must she wear to the theatre to-night? She must look her prettiest. Her wretched headache was gone. James Underhill felt as he had sometimes in the old school days, that hehad been duped. He was angry with her, with himself. He had brought hisfriends to the house; and he knew Weir was really in love with her, yetshe had laughed daintily about some of his peculiarities. What if shehad laughed with Gaynor about him? She did satirise people. It wasstrange how many faults he saw in her! Yet he did hate to have hermarry Williamson. He heard of her being at the theatre that evening with an array ofdiamonds, which young girls seldom wore. In a week or so the marriagewas discussed with a little wonder. Mrs. Nicoll was one of the old NewYorkers, a Ludlow herself. It was fortunate for Lily's prestige that herplain, unambitious father was dead, and her mother kept well in thebackground. No one quite knew about the fortune. Richard Weir was certainly hard hit. He made a pretence of devotinghimself to his studies to keep away from Gaynor's raillery. But one dayhe said to Jim, -- "Something ought to be done to save Miss Ludlow from such an awfulsacrifice; don't you think so, Underhill? That old aunt has egged heron, and she's doing this for her mother's sake. If I was in a positionto marry, I know I could persuade her to throw it up. What shall I do, Jim? I know she really loves me. She is heroic about it. She thinks itwould spoil my life in the very beginning. I don't know how father wouldtake it; and there's such a family of us to provide for. " "Let her alone, " returned Jim, gruffly. So she had played with thishonest-hearted young fellow as well; and the saddest of all was that hereally believed in her. "She will marry Williamson, no matter what comes. Weir, I'm sorry enoughI introduced you, if you are going to take it that way. Lily Ludlow isa flirt, pure and simple. I've never believed it until now. There is nouse in our wasting our sympathies upon her. " "You don't half do her justice, Jim; if you could hear her side--" "I have heard it, " laconically. "Weir, I'm awful sorry, " and he wrungthe young fellow's hand. There was another aspect to Jim beside the mortification. He had droppedbehind in his standing. Late hours and planning all sorts of amusementshad distracted his attention. And there was another fact to face. He hadbeen spending money with a lavishness that he wondered at now. He hadborrowed of Weir, of Gaynor, of Ben. When he counted up the total he wasdismayed. His father had been generous. They had all been very proud ofhim. How could he confess the miserable fiasco to any one? Perhaps, after he had taken his degree-- But he had to study hard for that. No more frolicking about! He had agood deal of resolution, when it was put to the test. He would asksober-going Ben to lend him a hundred dollars, which he would pay backby degrees. No girl should ever win a smile out of him again. He wouldnever borrow when he was once out of this difficulty. He knew Dick Weir really needed his money, and this emboldened him toapply to Ben. Alas! "I'd do it in a minute Jim; but I've been trying a sort of experiment. I had a chance to buy some capital stock, five hundred dollars' worth, and I just scraped up everything I had, and borrowed, so I'm behind, andmust catch up. You've been pretty gay, haven't you, Jim?" "I have been an idiot, " replied Jim, sturdily. "But I have learned alesson. " "You just go to Joe. He's the best fellow in all the world. Don't worryfather about it; he takes such pride in his young collegian, " and Bensmiled with generous kindliness upon his younger brother. That was the best thing certainly; yet it was days before Jim couldsummon sufficient courage. And then he found, as he blundered a littleover the matter, that Joe thought it worse than it really was. "Have you been gambling?" the elder asked gravely. "No, not that, Joe. It's all been a silly sort of extravagance. I am madat myself when I think of it. " He wouldn't say he had been tempted by agirl into much unwise expenditure. How could he have been so weak! "It will be all right, " returned Joe. "I am glad it is not gamblingdebts; though a hundred dollars wouldn't cover much. I hope you arecoming through in good shape. " "You may be sure of that. Oh, Joe, how kind you are!" "What is brotherhood for, if not that?" said Joe gravely. He would not put himself in the way of meeting Miss Ludlow, though shedid send him two rather plaintive notes. Early in June, the marriagetook place; and the bride's trousseau was quite magnificent, if it wasnot made in Paris. Mrs. Nicoll was delighted with what she termed hergrandniece's good sense, and gave her a handsome set of rubies, besidehaving her diamonds reset for her. And when she died, some two monthslater, it was found she had made a new will on Lily's wedding day, inwhich she bequeathed the bride all her personal effects and somevaluable bank-stock, if the amount was not very large. The next winter, Mrs. Williamson took her place in society, and was quite a marriedbelle, managing her husband as adroitly as she had managed her lovers. Jim studied day and almost night to make up for the dissipation of thewinter, and passed with honour, though Joe had hoped he would have oneof the orations. He went immediately into the law office of a friend ofStephen's as clerk and copyist while he was waiting for the new term ofthe law school. Charles Reed did distinguish himself, and was one of the heroes of theoccasion. He was a fine, manly fellow now, and Mrs. Dean loved him likea son. Indeed, it seemed as if he might be her son, the young peoplewere so much to each other. Josie would graduate the next year at thehigh school. Ben and Delia had gone along through the winter with very littlechange, except to learn how much they loved each other. The young mendid not have quite such rollicking good times, though Nora wasdeveloping into a very attractive young girl and enchanted them with hersinging. Delia was very busy trying her best to come up to some highstandards of literary work. Everybody was not a genius in those days. Colleges had not begun to turn them out by the score, and the elderpeople were very often helpful to the younger ones. There was, it is true, a certain kind of Bohemianism among the men thatproved dangerous to more than one fine, promising mind. Ben liked thebright wit and keen encounters, and the talk that ran through centuriesof intellectual activity as if it was only yesterday. He was taking acurious interest in politics as well, for some great questions werecoming to the fore. Mrs. Underhill had preserved a cautious silence respecting Delia, indeed, ignored the whole matter. Dolly was cordial when they met. Jimhad been so taken up with his engrossing experience that he rarely wentto Beach Street; and the two sets of society were widely apart. Deliahad supposed everything would come around straight; it generally did inher happy-go-lucky fashion. But on Commencement day, when she was all smiles and gladness, Mrs. Underhill's coolness and Mrs. Hoffman's stately distance quite amazedher. "Ben, " she said, "something has happened with your people. Your motherhardly spoke to me, and Margaret was icy. And now that I come to thinkof it, Hanny hasn't been near us since Nora's birthday--February thatwas. Are they offended because--don't they like our engagement? And Ilove them all so, from least to greatest; only Margaret is rather highup. " "Hanny's had such lots of lessons, and her music, and she'scorresponding with Daisy Jasper in French. Grandmother takes her time, too. You don't have so much leisure out of childhood. " "What jolly times we had back there in First Street! Oh, Ben, I did likeyou all so much! And I can't bear to have the good feeling die out. " There were tears in Delia's brown eyes. Ben was moved immeasurably. "May be I ought to have said something to mother; Joe counselled me towait. " "Then it has been talked about!" Delia stood up very straight, andlooked like a spirited picture. "What is their objection to me? Yourfamily are all prospering. Stephen is really a man of mark; Of courseDr. Hoffman was rich to begin with. And John's wife had quite a fortunewhen her parents died. Joe is up among the important people; and Jimwill make a smart lawyer, every one says. You _are_ a splendid lot!" andher honest admiration touched him. "I don't know. I've never felt very splendid. " "You are solid, and strong, and sensible. What a pity that alliterationwon't do in a poem!" and she laughed in her joyous manner. "I don'tcare if you never are rich, so long as we have good times. And as youcan't write a bit of verse, you dear, lovely old Ben, nor a story, I donot believe our tastes will clash. Why shouldn't we agree just as wellwhen we are married as we do now? Even that tremendous, gloomy, erraticEdgar Allan Poe adored not only his wife, but his mother-in-law. To besure, there was Milton and Byron, and Mrs. Hemans and Bulwer, and a hostof them; but Mr. And Mrs. Browning are going on serenely. And 'TheScarlet Letter' hasn't made trouble in Hawthorne's family yet. I thinkit is temper, rather than genius. And I have a good temper, Ben, "looking up out of honest, convincing eyes. "You just have, " returned Ben, with emphasis, kissing her fondly. "Ben, I love you too well to make you unhappy. " "You will never make me unhappy. " "May be I'm not careful enough in little things. " "I don't fret about the little things, " said Ben. "We both likeeasy-chairs, and evenings at home, and reading about famous people, orqueer people, and wonderful places. We both like a fire, and a cat; Iadore a nice cat, it is such a comfortable thing. And we like to go outwhere people are bright and vivacious, and know something. We're fond ofmusic, and pictures, and like a good play. Oh, there are things enoughto agree upon all our lives; so what would be the use of hunting roundto find a few things to dispute about. " "Why, there wouldn't be. But I want your mother to like me, and to feelsure I shall do my best to make you happy. Of course, we may not getrich. " "Bother riches! But I'm not going to give you up for anybody inChristendom. " "You are very sweet, Ben. " There was a sound of tears in Delia's voice. "I'll see what it is, " subjoined Ben. "Oh, it will all come straight, Iknow. " "I shall not marry you for the next seven years, no, not for twenty, until everybody is willing, " said Delia, decisively. Why couldn't people be kindly affectioned one toward another, as theApostle enjoined, when there was nothing very objectionable in theother? It puzzled Ben. He was passionately fond of his mother, too; butthe issue had to be met. And the very next evening when Mrs. Underhillwas out watering her garden, that had in it all manner of sweet herbsand the old-time flowers dear to her heart, Ben came wandering down theclean-cut path. "Mother, " when they had both stood silently several minutes, --"mother, Iwant to tell you--Delia Whitney and I are engaged. " "I supposed as much, " said his mother, tartly. Then she turned to comeup the path. "Mother, you have welcomed Dolly and Cleanthe; and we have all been likebrothers and sisters. Haven't you a tender word for Delia? You used tolike her. " "Delia Whitney was well enough for a neighbour. You have run and runthere, Ben, and really never taken the trouble to look about. You areyoung, and hardly know what is best for you. You could have lookedhigher. But you've gotten in with those newspaper people; and they dodrink, and are not very choice in their company. " "And lawyers drink; yet we are going to make a lawyer out of Jim. And wehave known country farmers addicted to the habit. Newspaper-men arequite up to the average. But that has nothing to do with Delia. " "No, women don't so often take to drinking. But she is in it all; and Idon't like such public business for a woman. A wife's place is at home;and Mrs. Whitney is a very poor housekeeper. Ben, a great deal of aman's happiness depends on the way his house is kept. " "But their house is always bright and pleasant. And think how Delia usedto work in First Street. She can keep house good enough for me. " "You have always had things so neat and orderly, Ben, that you don'tknow how trying that sort of helter-skelter housekeeping can be. A womancan't run hither and yon, and write stories and what not; and now theyare beginning to lecture and talk, and make themselves as mannish aspossible! No, I don't like it. And I pity the man who has to live inthat sort of neglected home. And then, Ben, come disputes andseparations. " He had heard the narrow reasoning before. Mrs. Reed came into his mind. With her passion for cleanliness and order, she certainly knew nothingabout a happy, comfortable home. His mother still scouted asewing-machine. Delia had hired one with a good operator, and declaredthat in a week they had done up all the summer sewing. He knew hismother would say it was only half-done. To be sure, Delia's mother was agreat novel-reader and had neglected her household many a time for aninteresting book. But _she_ wrote neither stories nor verses. "Of course, you will do as you like. And you think you are the only onethat will suffer. But a mother has many sorrowful hours over a son'sunhappiness and discomfort. " Then she passed him, and went into the house. And, after the fashion ofunreasoning women, she hurried up to her own room and cried a few bittertears. Ben had been such a good, upright, pleasant son. He ought to havethe best wife in the world, for he was easy-going and would put up withalmost anything. She _was_ disappointed. She would have scouted the idea of being aristocratic or mercenary; yetshe did want him to look higher. There had been such an attractiveHoffman cousin spending a month with Margaret, who thought Bendelightful. There were two or three girls in the neighbourhood. In fact, a young man might as well marry some one of distinction and character;Dolly and Cleanthe were none the worse for their money. "I don't know what I can do, " Ben said to Dolly, with a sigh. "Delia hasa suspicion that mother is against her. I'm not in a hurry to marry;but Delia won't marry me until everybody is ready to welcome her. " "Yes, you are young; and a good many things come around straight if yougive them time, just like a northeast wind. Ask Delia to come up to tea, whenever she and you are at liberty. " Dolly kissed Ben. In some respects he was still boyish. Margaret was vexed over the certainty. It was said Nora Whitney had achance to go abroad with a Madame Somebody who used to sing in operas. She would be educated for a professional. Of course a Jenny Lind or aParodi or Malibran was different; but just an ordinary singer!--or onecould admire an acknowledged woman of genius who had a position, or anysocial prestige! Ben said nothing to Delia; but she guessed his announcement had not beensatisfactory. She had not been to the Underhills for six months or more. But, in her generous fashion, she made no comment. Late that summer a wonderful thing happened that filled everybody withelation, and for twenty-four hours set the city wild. Every show-windowhad a picture of a trim, spirited yacht that seemed to have triumphwritten all over her; and men and boys crowded around to look at it, andcheered it with an enthusiasm seldom inspired nowadays. We were allgoing wild over our great triumph; for we had distanced England on theseas and in British waters. The gallant "America" had borne off the"Queen's Cup, " the prize offered for the fleetest yacht in the greatrace. We had been very proud of our fleet "clippers" that were scudding aboutto different ports. Then the Steers brothers had built the "America" forMr. Stevens, of the New York Yacht Club; and he decided to take her overto the great contest that was to be a race around the Isle of Wight. Shemet with a little mishap in the beginning; but, nothing daunted, hercourageous captain kept on to the end, eighty-one miles, and distancedall competitors. Other yachts of all nations were entered; and it musthave been a magnificent sight when she had eight minutes to spare, andcould glance back at her really splendid rivals. The pretty story ofQueen Victoria and the Prince Consort was told over many times. TheQueen asked the captain of the royal yacht who was first. "The 'America, ' your Majesty. " "And who is second?" "There is no second, your Majesty, " returned the Captain, gallantlyadmitting the defeat. So the brave "America, " after being flattered and fêted, brought homeher trophy; and thousands rushed to see that and the beautiful yacht. But the English Club did not mean to resign honours so easily, andannounced that efforts would be made to win back the famous cup. Andto-day the cup is still ours, after many challenges and trials. But the enthusiasm then knew no bounds. There were little flags with aminiature yacht and the American colours; and the patriotic boys worethem in their jackets. Jim put up a handsome engraving in his room. He had been working like a Trojan all summer, except a brief fortnight, and had begun to pay back his debt. Nora Whitney was to go abroad under the care of a well-known musicianand his wife, who was a fine concert-singer. It seemed such an excellentopportunity; and Nora had an ambition to reach a high standard. TheProfessor and Madame had visited the Whitneys, and both parties weremutually satisfied. "I could never let a child of mine go away among strangers in thatmanner, " declared Mrs. Underhill. "No one can tell what will happen toher. I shouldn't have thought it of Mr. Theodore. The women, of course, are not overweighted with common sense, and the poor child has nomother. " "Oh, dear, " sighed Hanny, "all the little girls are dropping out; and weused to have such nice times. I do wonder if Daisy means ever to comeback. And Josie Dean is a young lady with long dresses, and does up herhair. " "Elenora Whitney is not worth worrying about, " subjoined Mrs. Underhill, tartly; "and Josie Dean is a very nice, modest girl. " Charles Reed and Josie had dropped into a fashion of making frequentcalls during the summer. The young fellow made a confidant of DoctorJoe, as young people were very apt to do, he was so sympathetic andkindly. Mr. Reed had quite a fancy at first that he should study medicine. "It is a fine profession, when one's heart is in it, " said Doctor Joe. "And there are so many new discoveries and methods all the time. Still, I can't quite fancy Charlie taking up the disagreeable side. " "He could be a professor, I suppose, " commented his father, ratherreluctantly. "He loves study and books, and he ought to turn hiseducation to some account. I would do anything for him; he knows that. He is all I have; and he is a fine boy. " It was odd; but Charlie talked his desire over with Josie first of all, and she approved of it enthusiastically. Then he rather timidlyconfessed it to his father. "I used to believe that I never wanted to be a clergyman; but, aftermother died, I began to think it over. She was so sort of sweet andchanged that last year, almost as if she had a presentiment; and thoughshe took such an interest in my studies, she never spoke of that, thoughI know it was her heart's desire. All the time I seem to have had aleaning towards it. It is a grand life, when one's heart and soul are init; and I am sure now mine would be. I should feel as if I was keepingnear to her, and doing something for her happiness. And if you would notfeel disappointed--" "My boy, I should be gratified, " said his father, warmly. "I should nothave tried to influence your choice; but I do think, in certain ways, you are especially fitted for this profession. I can trust you never tobring discredit on so sacred a calling; and I think you are alive tothe true responsibility of it. Yes; it is what she would like, if shewere here. " Jim declared he had felt sure of this decision all the last year. Theyall decided Charles Reed would make a fine conscientious clergyman. CHAPTER XVII A GLAD SURPRISE Doctor Joe stood at the doorway of the Institute. It was still inMadison Street, though it was to go up-town and be transformed into acollege. The girls came trooping out, --they were really girls then, andhad a deliciously girlish air. "Oh, Joe!" cried Hanny, glancing up rather in amaze. What had happened? He bowed gravely to some of her compeers. They thought Jim splendid; butthey stood a little in awe of grave Doctor Joe. "I have come for you to go and make a call, " he said. "Let me take yourbooks. " She glanced up the street. "Oh, this isn't in style, " he began laughingly. "I have neither coachnor four. " "Then we will have a nice walk. Where? Down at the Battery?" She had such a sweet, eager face, and she was so easily pleased. "We will go over to Broadway, first, " he replied. "Then--well, whereveryou like. " So they chatted as they walked along, across City Hall Square, where thefountain was still playing on sunny days. The Astor House was yet in its glory. She wondered a little, as theywalked up the stone steps, through the hall, and then up the thicklypadded stairs, and into the spacious parlour. A lady, dressed in black, was standing by the window, and turnedsmilingly. Hanny was bewildered by a familiar likeness. Then a younggirl sprang up from the sofa; and Hanny caught a glint of golden curls, as she was clasped in the outstretched arms. "Oh, Hanny!" "Oh, Daisy!" That was all they said for a moment or two. They cried a little, aspeople often do, out of pure gladness, and just hugged each othertighter. "I was so afraid I never should see you again. Papa laughed. You know hehas crossed the ocean so many times. If I hadn't been coming home, Isuppose I shouldn't have been worried. But it seemed such a long, longwhile, and I was just crazy to see you, to get home. I don't believe Ishall ever really want to go abroad again. " Hanny raised her head from Daisy Jasper's shoulder. Oh, what a tall girlshe was! Her complexion was like pearl and blush roses; her hair was awonderful gold; and her eyes, somehow, suggested the starry heaven atnight. Hanny felt strangely abashed. Then Mrs. Jasper claimed a greeting. Hanny knew that a year ago they hadlost Aunt Ellen, with an attack of fever. Mrs. Jasper looked ratherpale, but she had not changed. "Why, you haven't grown a bit!" cried Daisy. "And look at me! You'llhave to go to German baths, and all that, to get a good start. What apity you did not go with us! I've had such a longing for girls. Youdon't get acquainted with them on the continent. They are always in theschool-room. And I am just hungry, all the way through, for some oneyoung and enthusiastic, and foolish and merry things to laugh at. " "But--I didn't know you were coming--" "No, dear Doctor Joe kept the secret well. We did hope to be in onSaturday. " "Then _you_ knew?" and she looked half reproachfully at her brother. He laughed. He had only done Daisy's bidding. "Now, if you want to keep Hanny to dinner, I'll come down this evening. I have a few calls to make, " he announced presently. "Indeed we do. You have so many folks, you might give me Hanny, " andDaisy glanced at Doctor Joe with a bright, arch smile. "If you took Hanny, you would have to take father and me, sure. Theothers might squeeze along without her; but I am afraid they would getthin on it. " Then the Doctor nodded and went his way. "Now that you have Hanny, I will go and unpack one of the trunks, " saidMrs. Jasper. Hanny and Daisy went down in the corner of the long apartment, and tookpossession of a _tête-à-tête_. "Oh, you are so changed!" cried the little girl "And so--so beautiful!" "And so well! That's the loveliest thing. I can take long walks anddance, think of that! I am only a little lame. Just the merest crook inmy back, and one leg a tiny bit shorter, but a thick sole makes it allright. And I've grown like a weed, while you are a tiny bit of somethingvery choice, --a dainty little white rose. And I am so glad to have youagain. Oh, don't let anything ever come between us! Let us be friendsall our lives long. I have brought you a beautiful ring to bindfriendship. " "Oh, " sighed Hanny, in delight. "And there have been so many changes! Oh, who do you think we met inLondon? Not Whittington and his cat, but Nora Whitney without her cat. And poor Pussy Gray is dead, and Nora is a tall young lady with asplendid voice, and will make a famous singer, I suppose. And Delia isgetting to be famous too, I hear. It is odd, but she doesn't suggest agenius to my mind. I think you often are disappointed in geniuses. Wesaw some while abroad, and they did not come up to my expectations, orelse one expects too much. Still there are some lovely faces. " "But she is just delightful! Only she keeps so busy, we do not see muchof her. " "And poor little Tudie! How sad it was! I can sympathise with her sisternow, for being an only child. " Then Hanny said Charlie had entered a theological seminary; and Daisyagreed being a clergyman would prove just the calling for him, he was soearnest and conscientious. Hanny had written everything, she thought;but Daisy was so eager to hear it all over again. Mr. Jasper came in. He had been back and forth, and kept up the habit ofcalling on the Underhills, so nothing about Hanny surprised him. The little girl felt rather startled when she went into the largedining-room. At this period, there were people who spent the wholeseason at the Astor House, though there were some newer hotels that werevery attractive. It was like a grand party, Hanny thought. The ladieswere so prettily attired, so bright and chatty. When they went back to the parlour, that looked like a party, too. Hannyfelt very plain in her school-dress. There were a number of Mr. Jasper'sbusiness friends, that he brought up to introduce to his wife and thetwo girls. But they were so busy talking, that they hardly noticed anyone else. Doctor Joe returned, armed with an invitation from Mrs. Underhill, forMrs. Jasper and Daisy, to come up and make them a visit; and Mrs. Jaspersaid she should be glad to go somewhere, and find an old-fashionedAmerican home-feeling. Daisy could hardly let Hanny go. Doctor Joeproposed that he should come for Daisy the next day, for she could notbe of any special service to her mother until some plans were decidedupon. That was a splendid thought. They kissed and kissed, as if they were never to see each other again. Hanny's eyes were lustrous, and her cheeks pink with excitement. Andthere was so much to tell her mother. "You must go to bed, " declared Doctor Joe. "It is after ten. " "But, oh, my lessons! I have not looked at them. " "Never mind lessons now. You can get up early in the morning. " She was very tired, she had talked so much and listened so intently. Andin five minutes she was asleep, in spite of the unlearned lessons. She studied every moment the next morning, and all the way down in thestage, and managed to get through. She was a very good scholarordinarily, and ambitious to have perfect recitations. But she keptcounting the hours, for she could hardly believe Daisy Jasper was reallyat home. Joe brought her up to the house when he had finished his round of calls. He handed her out quite as if she was a stylish young lady, though shewas not in long gowns. But Joe was curiously proud of her, as being oneof his first cases. Everybody gave her a cordial welcome. Jim was at once her most devoted. Mrs. Underhill soon concluded foreign ways had not spoiled her; andgrandmother said she was a pretty-behaved, intelligent girl. But, oh, the things she had seen, and done! She could talk French and German; shehad taken painting-lessons from real artists, and had some prettystudies for Hanny, in a box not yet unpacked. She had brought thefriendship ring, which was two tiny hands clasped over a sapphire withdiamond sparks around it. Hanny's eyes shone with delight; she wasgetting quite a collection in the way of gifts. Daisy seemed to bring a fascinating atmosphere. She was not forward, indeed there was often a pretty air of deprecation; but she had seen agood deal of society without being actually in it, and, since her aunt'sdeath, had been her mother's companion. Her different lessons had mostlybeen given at home, except those in oil-painting; and there was no airof schools about her. She was so ready to be entertaining, so fresh, andyet with a charming simplicity. "I am so glad for Hanny to have such a friend, " her mother said to theDoctor. "She hasn't seemed to take any one to her heart since we havebeen up here; and it does make her seem a bit old-fashioned to be somuch with elderly people. " "Yes. They seem to suit exactly. " Jim took them over to the Deans' one evening. Oh, what a merry talk theyhad about old times, for it did seem quite old to them. They recalledthe day in summer, when the "caravan" went down Broadway to the storewhere Charles had been employed one vacation, and dear old First Street. Biddy Brady, who had danced for them, had run away and married a youngIrishman. Old Mrs. McGiven still sold candies and cakes, andslate-pencils, and, oh, Washington pie that was almost as great anecessity to childhood then, as chewing-gum is now. Mr. Jasper brought up the pictures when he escorted his wife. There weretwo pretty bits of landscape on the shore of Lake Geneva, and the othera Holland scene, with a stretch of canal and a queer house that lookedas if it might topple over some day, if the foundation was washed out. "But they never do, " explained Daisy. "It's all so curious, and most ofit so clean! And, oh, the windmills, and the queer costumes that havenot changed in a century!" Beside that there was a water-colour, a study of the most eleganttulips, painted from a real bed. Hanny was wild with delight. They hung the pictures in her room, thoughDoctor Joe declared they ought to go in his study. He pretended to feelvery badly that Daisy had not done anything for him. "I will wait until I can paint something really worthy, " she repliedwith a bright flush. "I owe you so much, that I ought to give you thevery best. I mean to go on with my lessons. I love the work, and if Ihave any talent, it certainly is that. " "But you used to draw figures, faces, " said Hanny, "and they were soreal. " "In the summer I took lessons in miniature painting on ivory. I mustconfess that is my ambition; but it will take years to attain toperfection. I suppose now I ought to go to studying solid branches, " andshe laughed lightly. "I've begun wrong end first, with theaccomplishments. But I had to talk German, for mamma wouldn't bother. And as she had not forgotten all her French, she went at that with me, and so I am a tolerable scholar. But I dare say Hanny could twist me allup with mathematics. I only know enough to count change. Still, I amquite an expert in foreign money. And, Hanny, were my sentencesfearfully and wonderfully constructed, and did I slip up often onspelling?" "I am quite sure you did not, " protested Hanny. "I do suppose she ought to go to a good school, " said Mrs. Jasper. "I am afraid I should not like school now. I could no longer be theheroine. And how could I descend to an ordinary station in life? Oh, Dr. Underhill, can't you interpose on the score of my still delicatehealth. " She had such a pretty colour in her cheeks, and her eyes shone withmerriment. "Doctor, you really must begin to be severe with her. She has her ownway quite too much. " But it was a very charming way, they all thought. She roused Hanny to anunwonted brightness. Even grandmother laid claim to her, for she wasdelighted with her piquant description of places and people. She hadheard Jenny Lind, and several other noted singers; but it seemed to herthat the ovation to the Swedish Nightingale in New York must have beenmagnificent. Jim claimed her when he was indoors; and they had many a merry bout. Ithardly seemed possible that the few years could have wrought such achange in her. Ben took glowing accounts to Delia; and although she felthurt and sore over the coolness of the Underhills, she did not abate onejot of her love for Ben. She had been very busy arranging Nora's wardrobe, and now most of thecare of the house devolved upon her. Mrs. Whitney would read for hoursto Aunt Patty; often the old lady went soundly asleep. To be sure, matters were not attended to with the niceness of Mrs. Underhill; butBarbara was a treasure with her German neatness, and Bridget kept herkitchen at sixes and sevens. Mr. Theodore brought home one guest orthree, with the same indifference; and if Ben's mother could have seenthe cheerful manner in which Delia hurried about and arranged the tableon short notice, she must have modified her opinion a little. Theodorewas quite negligent about money-matters as well. Sometimes he was verylavish; then he would declare he was "dead broke, " and she must do thebest she could. Three or four of his friends would be in about ten, andcouldn't she fix up a bit of something? Sometimes she ran a little in debt; but when the good times came, shewas only too eager to get matters straight. And she was so bright andgay with it all, and made Ben's visits so pleasant, that he sometimesforgot there was any trouble. She had said decisively that they could not marry yet awhile; and Benhad accepted her fiat. But they did begin to plan for the journeyabroad, and had a good deal of entertainment counting the cost, andconsidering where they would go. "I should so like to see Daisy Jasper, " she said. "I will ask her to come down, " answered Ben. But Dolly invited them both up one Saturday, when Hanny and Daisy wereto be there to tea. And Daisy told Delia about meeting Nora, and howhappy she was in her new prospects. She had been a little homesick, she wrote to Delia, but only for a fewhours at a time. Madame Clavier was as careful as any mother could be, fussy, she thought sometimes; but no doubt it was for her good. Daisy was very attractive to the children until Delia came, when theydeserted their new friend for stories. Delia had not lost her girlishgift. The Jaspers were a month making up their minds what to do, and thendecided to board until spring at least. Joe found them a very pleasantplace in their neighbourhood, to Hanny's delight. She was so glad to gether dear friend back again, sweet and unchanged; not but what she hadfound several charming girls at school, and some of them were just wildto see that lovely Miss Jasper, so her circle was widening all the time. Margaret thought she ought to wear long dresses. Girls not quite grownup wore them to their gaiter-tops. Crisp, elegant button-boots had notcome in, like a good many other excellent things. And Hanny wasundeniably petite. Stretch up her very utmost, she hardly measured fivefeet. Women had not, by taking thought, added an inch to their statureby high heels. There were one or two "lifts" put in between the soles, called spring-heels; but the hats helped out a little. "I haven't grown an inch this year, " she declared ruefully. "And I amafraid I never will be any taller. It's queer, when all the rest of youare large. " "You are just right, " said her father. "You will be my little girl allyour life long. " Doctor Joe comforted her with the asseveration that he liked littlewomen, "honest and true;" and Daisy also insisted she was just right. "For you see how admirably your head goes down on my shoulder; and if wewere the same size, we should be bumping heads. Queen Victoria is onlyfive feet, and she is very queenly. " "But I am not queenly. " "No, but you could be, if you set about it. " She had some frocks to wear out that could not be let down; and hermother settled the question according to that for the present. There was another thing that gave her a vague suspicion of being grownup, and that was cards. The "quality" used visiting-cards; but it would have been consideredunderbred and pretentious to sow them around in the modern manner. Theywere kept for state occasions. Of course Dolly and Margaret had them;and Hanny thought Joseph B. Underhill, M. D. , looked extremely elegant. Jim had some written ones in exquisite penmanship. He had not given upsociety because one girl had proved false and deceitful. He made apoint of bowing distantly to Mrs. Williamson, and flushed even now atthe thought of having been such a ninny! Daisy Jasper's name was on her mother's cards. But you couldn't persuadeMrs. Underhill into any such nonsense. She declared if Joe brought herhome any, she would put them in the fire. One day, however, he dropped asmall white box into Hanny's lap, as she sat in his easy-chair, studyingher lessons. It was too small for confectionery; it might be--she hadcoveted a pair of bracelets. So she looked up with an inquiring smile. "Open it, and see if they suit. " She was sure then it was bracelets. There was white tissue-paper and something stiff. She tumbled thecontents out in her lap. A few cards fell the plain side up. She turnedone over. In very delicate script she saw-- "Miss Nan Underhill. " "Oh!" with a cry of delight. They called her Nan altogether atStephen's, and the school-girls wrote her name in that manner. She oftenused it in writing notes. It looked so very attractive now. "Oh, you lovely Joe!" "They are nice to use with your girl-friends. There are a great manylittle society regulations that show refinement and good breeding, and Iwant you to observe them. When you get to be a middle-aged woman, HannahAnn will look solid and dignified. I consulted Daisy and Mrs. Jasper, and both approved. " "Just a thousand thanks, " and she threw up her arms to bring his facedown within kissing reach. The long skirt was settled by a rather peculiar circumstance. We were beginning to have real literary aspirations, and some writerswho attracted attention abroad. Miss Bremer had found a great manythings to like in us; and Jenny Lind had been enthusiastic. SomeEnglishmen of note had been over and found we were not a nation ofsavages or red men, and that the best and highest in English literaturewas not unknown to us. Several of our writers had been abroad; and therewas growing up a spirit of cordiality. Then Thackeray was coming over to lecture on The English Humourists. Nearly everybody went to reading him. Some because it was, as we shouldsay now, a "fad;" others because they wanted to appear conversant withhis works; and a few because they had learned to understand and to lovethe wonderful touches of the master-pen. Boston received him with openarms. Then he was to visit the principal cities. Ben and Delia were tremendously interested; and most of their talk wasspiced with bits and quotations, and the telling scenes from his novels. Delia was beginning to have a good deal of discrimination and judgment. Sometimes, in moments of discouragement, she admitted to Ben that shewas afraid she really hadn't any genius. Her novel had been recast everso many times, and still languished. Ben brought up tickets for Mr. Thackeray's second lecture. He had goneto the first one, and meant to hear them all. Joe must take Hanny, whowould always regret it if she didn't hear him. He had seen Mr. Jasper;and they were all going the same evening. Joe had meant to hear him. He was fond of hearing and seeing notablepeople, and kept his mind freshened up with all that was going on in thegreat world. Hanny was delighted, of course, though the fact of listening with Daisybeside her added a great deal. They had an enthusiastic, ratherschool-girlish friendship. Daisy's mind was, of course, the moreexperienced. But with youthful fervor they were training themselves intoperfect accord, _en rapport_, so they could look at each other andunderstand. There was a really fine audience. And when the large, burly, broad-chested Englishman stepped on the platform, he had a cordial andenthusiastic welcome. This evening he was at his best. His manner was clear and engaging; hemoved his audience to tears and smiles. There was satire and tendernessand the marvellous insight that made him absolutely personify thewriters he touched upon. The audience was charmed. Hanny could not decide upon him. She was being won against her will, rather her preconceived notions; and yet her first feelings about himwould return to disturb her. Mr. And Mrs. Jasper were delighted beyondexpression; Joe was deeply interested, though he confessed he did notknow Thackeray as he ought. He had read only one or two of the novelsand the "Yellowplush Papers. " "I am going to read 'Vanity Fair' over again, " said Hanny, when theyreached home. "I didn't like it, really and truly. " "You are hardly old enough to enjoy such things, " returned Joe. "Even Ihave not made up my mind, and I know I would not have liked them atseventeen. We believe in heroes and great deeds then, and thepossibilities of life look grander to us than they do afterward. Isuppose it is right that we should want to be _pleased_ then. " Hanny felt that she wanted to be pleased with a story, or else verysorry for the misfortunes that no human power could seem to avert. Butwhen mean and shallow and selfish people caused their own trials, werethey worthy of sympathy? They talked at school with the wide diversity of crude, girlishopinions. The papers were full of him as well. Ben was one of his enthusiastic admirers. And now they planned to give abanquet, --printers and newspaper-men, --and Mr. Thackeray was to be theguest of the occasion; there was to be a dinner, with some of the brightliterary lights, music, and dancing, --a really grand affair. TheodoreWhitney was on the committee; and Ben had a lesser position. They meantto make it the affair of the season. Joe must surely take tickets. Itwas such a shame Dolly couldn't go; and, of course, Steve wouldn't. John and Cleanthe were not interested in such things; and, afterthinking it over, Mrs. Hoffman declined. "I shall have to look up a girl, " said Joe. "Hanny, you have never beento a ball. Would you like to go?" "Oh, I think a ball would be splendid! If Daisy could go, or Dolly. " "Yes, Daisy's mother or Dolly would have to go. " That gave him an idea, and he went down to see Mrs. Jasper. "Why, I really think I would like to go myself, " she said. "We do notconsider Daisy quite a grown-up lady. I should like to keep her just ayoung girl for a long while; but, perhaps, that will not be possible. " "Hanny is a very young girl, " returned Joe. "And I do not think fathercould stand it to have her grown up. But she keeps so small, I don'tjust know how we should get mother coaxed around. Both girls would enjoyit immensely. " "Oh, she would trust her with Mr. Jasper and me, if we were to takeDaisy. Dear me--one festivity doesn't really signify. And yet--" sheblushed and smiled with a certain girlishness. "They may be dangerous; Iwent to a Christmas ball when I was sixteen, and met Mr. Jasper. I wasout on a holiday, --a mere school-girl. " "I don't believe Hanny or Daisy will find any one to fall in lovewith, " said Joe, seriously; "they are so in love with each other. " "Oh, yes. They are planning to live together. There must be asettlement; for both will have to bring their respective families. " Joe was a good deal amused at that. CHAPTER XVIII THE LITTLE GIRL GROWN UP Mrs. Underhill said "No. " It was not to be thought of for a moment. Hanny in short frocks! "It would have to be made long in the skirt, I suppose, " returned Joe, gravely. "Long! What are you talking about!" "She would enjoy seeing the dancing. And when she was an old lady, andThackeray dead, she could tell her children she was at a banquet withthe great novelist. " "What nonsense you do talk, Joe. " Doctor Joe laughed, gave his mother a squeeze and a kiss that broughtthe bright colour to her cheek, and then went off to comfort two richold patients who had nothing the matter with them, except theinfirmities of age. They thought there was no one like Dr. Underhill. Perhaps his mother thought so, too. She was taking a good deal ofcomfort with him in these days, when she had cast Ben a little out ofher good graces. She had a hope that Ben's sturdy common sense wouldconvince him after a while that Delia would make a poor, improvidentwife. And there was a chance that, while Ben was waiting to get ready, some one might capture Delia. She sincerely hoped it would be some onewell-to-do and deserving, and who could afford servants and a generoushousehold expenditure. Ben would get over it in time. And much as she enjoyed Joe, she wanted him to marry and have a home andfamily of his very own. But was any one good enough for such a sweet, generous, noble soul! Of course Hanny couldn't go; that was a foregone conclusion. But thenthe Jaspers were going, and it wasn't like taking a young girl out insociety. Just one night would not matter. Daisy had been to severalgrown-up festivities abroad, where they were ever so much more strenuousabout girls. There would be so many people, they would pass in thethrong unnoticed; and it was not like a public ball. It was a little odd, but Miss Cynthia settled it finally. Her verdictseemed to settle a good many things. She did not "dress-make" verysteadily now; but there were some folks who thought they couldn't have awedding, or a large party, without Miss Cynthia's advice and assistance. She came to spend the day. Grandmother Van Kortlandt enjoyed her verymuch, as she could not visit a great deal herself. Cynthia always hadthe latest news about all the relatives. She gossiped in a bright socialfashion, with no especial ill-nature, or sharp criticism, indeed hersharpnesses were amusing for the bit of real fun in them. "Why, of course she ought to go, " declared Miss Cynthia. "I'd like tosee the great man myself, and shake hands with him, though I am not overfond of the English; and I do hope and pray he won't go home and makefun of us. As for the dancing, and all that, Peggy Underhill, you wentto lots of frolics before you were as old as Hanny, and had young menbeauing you round. I don't see but you have made a good and capable wifeand mother; and it didn't hurt you a bit. " "But I was not going to school. " "It wasn't the fashion then. And now women are in Oberlin College, studying the same things as the men; and they fall in love and getmarried just as they always did. The ball, or whatever you call it, won't hurt Hanny a bit. There will be the Jaspers, and Joe, and Ben, andI'm sure that's enough to take care of one little girl. " "She has nothing to wear; she is still in short frocks. And the idea ofbuying a ball-dress, that she won't want until next winter!" "Now see here. Let's look over the old things. There's her blue silk, outgrown of course. They ruffle everything now, and it will be wideenough for that. And I can just cover the waist, and ruffle the skirtwith white tarleton. It is nearly two yards wide, and makes lovelytrimming. There's no use saving it up for Stephen's children. " They all laughed at that. "And, Aunt Marg'ret, " to grandmother, "why didn't you keep _your_ littlegirl shut up in a band-box, while all the other girls were having goodtimes and getting lovers? She might have been a queer, particular, fidgety old maid, instead of having a nice family for us to quarrelover. " "I will buy her a new dress, " said grandmother. "She doesn't want anything but a few yards of tarleton. She won't belikely to get into the papers. She and Miss Daisy will sit and look on, and just whisper to each other, and feel afraid to say their souls aretheir own; but they'll enjoy the pretty dressing and the dancing, andthey will see how the thing is done when it comes their turn in goodearnest. " So Mrs. Underhill had to give in. Grandmother slipped five dollars inMiss Cynthia's hand, as she was going away. "If that falls short, I'll give you some more. And you just buy thattarleton. " Hanny wasn't quite sure, and never said a word at school until the veryday. But she and Daisy had a thrill of delight talking it over. MissCynthia came armed with the tarleton. The skirt was let down; but girls'long dresses were not sweeping length in those days. Then it was coveredwith narrow ruffles that suggested drifting clouds over an azure sky. The bodice was not outgrown, after all. It was covered with thetarleton, and had a fall of beautiful old lace around the shoulders, apretty frill at the neck, and short sleeves. Joe bought her whitegloves, and she had a blue sash. Miss Cynthia came in to dress her; but the little girl had a quiveringfear that something had happened to her maid, for it was full eighto'clock. She put her back hair in a French twist, much worn then, withtwo big rings right on the top of her head that looked like a crown. Herfront hair she curled over an iron, and then combed it out; and it was amass of fluffy waves, gathered in bandeaux just above her ears. She hadher mother's beautiful pearl earrings, that had come from France withthe old French grandmother, and a handsome mother-of-pearl-topped combin her hair. They put on the ball-dress. "Now look at yourself, " said Miss Cynthia, "and get used to it before I let in the folks. " Hanny stood before her mother's tall mirror. Oh, this was Miss NanUnderhill, and she had never seen her before. There was a mystery abouther, --a sudden sense of a strange, beautiful, unseen world, a newcountry she was going into, an old world left behind, an intangiblerecreation that no words could explain, but that touched her with akind of exalted sacredness, as if a new life was unfolding all abouther. She hardly dared stir or breathe. "For a girl with no special beauty, I think you look very well. But, land sakes! You'll see no end of handsome girls; Margaret and Jimcarried off the beauty of this family. " Miss Cynthia's voice recalled her from the vision of coming womanhood, that she was to live over again on her wedding night, with its holyblessedness enshrining her within her bridal veil. Her father's eyes shone with a softness that looked like tears. Hermother viewed her all over with a critical air. "I must say, Cynthia, you've done wonderfully. The dress looks verynice. And now, Hanny, I do hope you won't be forward or silly. Mindeverything Mrs. Jasper says, and don't you and Daisy giggle. Be carefuland don't lose Margaret's handkerchief. I don't just know as you oughtto carry that. " Joe said she was lovely; and Jim really was very complimentary. He _did_wish that he was going. But Jim counted the cost of everything now, forhe was trying to get out of debt. The coach came up from the Jaspers' and Hanny was put inside. Joeinsisted on sharing the box with the driver. When Daisy took off her wrap in the dressing-room, she had on a palepink silk. Part of her curls were tied up in a bunch on top of her head, and fastened with a silver arrow and two roses. She would always wear itin ringlets, or at least until she was so old she wouldn't mind abouther shoulders being not quite straight. The affair was a banquet primarily. To be sure they gathered in theAssembly room; and there was Ben, and Delia, who looked very nice andbright in maize colour and brown. "Oh, Hanny, you are as lovely as a picture, " she whisperedenthusiastically. "But you _are_ a little mite; there is no denying it. I was so afraid you couldn't come, that something would happen at thelast moment. Miss Cynthia is capital. " Hanny coloured and almost sighed. She might as well give up hoping to betall, and accept the fact. They went into the banquet-room, where there were two long tables. Theypassed around to where a circle of men stood, some of them very finelooking indeed. The advancing group were presented to the greatnovelist, and in future years Hanny was to treasure the cordial smileand pressure of the hand. But he was to come again when the world hadlearned to pay him a finer and more discriminating admiration. His end of the table was literary. The Jasper party were opposite, atthe other one. What brightness and wit spiced the party, they couldgather from the genial laughter. There were toasts and responses thatscintillated with gaiety and touched the border of pathos. It was long, and of course the younger people who came for the ball werenot compelled to stay. The novelist was to leave at the close of thedinner. And presently most of the company found their way to the dancingroom, where the band was discoursing enchanting music, and where everyone enjoyed the promenade. But when the quadrille sets were formed and in motion, Hanny wasenraptured. Ben and Delia were among them. Delia certainly had afrivolous side to her nature for a genius. She was very fond of fun andpleasure and dancing, and had no lack of partners all the evening. Some there were who danced like a fairy dream; others who made blundersand gave the wrong hand, and betrayed various awkwardnesses. Doctor Joefound several lady friends, and danced two or three times, thenproposed that Hanny should try, which he was sure "would inspire Daisyinto making the attempt, " he said with a persuasive smile. Hanny was very much afraid out on the large space. But Delia was in thesame set, and her bright merry eyes were full of encouragement. It wasnot alarming. Indeed, in five minutes, the music had put a "spirit inher feet, " and she felt quite at home. Then a friend of Ben's came to ask her; and Doctor Joe sat down topersuade Daisy. While abroad, she had taken what we should now term aseries of physical culture lessons to strengthen and develop her limbs, and to learn how to overcome her misfortune in every possible manner. Indeed, it was hardly noticeable now, and she had outgrown thesensitiveness of her childhood. "Oh, mamma, do you think I could?" "Of course she can, " declared Doctor Joe. "I can't have you playing wallflower altogether at your first ball. And if you drop down in surprise, or faint away, I will carry you to the dressing-room at once. " He was so tender and full of nonsense, yet so much in earnest, that sherose reluctantly. But like Hanny, with the eager joy of youth, she soonforgot everything except the pure pleasure, and the delight ofgratifying dear Doctor Joe, who was so strong and gentle that she couldnot even feel a bit nervous. As for Hanny, she was really enchanted. The room full of people, smiling and happy, the changing figures, the light airy dresses, theshimmer of silks, the cloudlets of lace, the soft flying curls, for somany people wore ringlets still, the happy smiling faces, and the throbof the music was intoxicating. It was a strange, delightful world thatshe had gone into with her first long gown and her hair done up. She came back, flushed and excited, her pretty eyes shining, her redlips all in a quiver. "Now you must sit down and rest, " said Mrs. Jasper. "And if you are veryobedient, you may get up in that Spanish dance. I think that quitedelightful and bewildering. " A lady sat on the other side of Mrs. Jasper, and resumed the incidentshe was describing. Mr. Jasper came up with a young man. "Here is an old friend!" he exclaimed. "Where is Daisy?" "Somewhere with the Doctor. Oh, what a surprise!" and she took the youngman's hand. "I wasn't sure I could get here; and it would have been very ungratefulto Mr. Jasper, when he sent me a ticket. I wanted to see Miss Daisyagain. But I have just come on a flying business tour, and must startto-morrow for Philadelphia. Still, I may have a little leisure when Ireturn. What a gay scene. " Hanny sat fanning herself, and feeling that her cheeks were scarlet. Ifit only wouldn't culminate in her nose! Then Mr. Jasper turned andintroduced his young friend. Hanny moved a little, so he could sitbetween her and Mrs. Jasper, --a very attractive young man, a Mr. Andersen. "Miss Underhill, " he repeated, as Mr. Jasper turned away, "I've beenspeculating on a Miss Underhill for five minutes. I wonder if you willconsider it impertinent; but perhaps you never speculate upon people, and then it might be reprehensible. Just as I entered the room, therewas a merry group talking, and a sort of 'nut brown mayde, ' all in brownand yellow with bright hair and laughing eyes said, 'Miss NanUnderhill. ' Of course I was too well bred, and in too great a hurry tolisten to any more, or I might have found out about her. I had just aninstant interior gleam of what she must be like with that English name. And I wonder if the fates have directed my steps to her?" Mr. Andersen was not the tall, stern, gloomy hero of romance; he wasmedium in height and figure, with a frank, eager sort of face, darkhair, and eyes she thought black then, but afterwards came to know thatthey were of the deep blue of a midnight sky in winter. He had such asmiling mouth, and his voice had a curious, lingering cadence thatsuggests that one may have heard it in a previous state. Hanny caught the spirit of the half badinage, and the laughing light inhis face. "I think I ought to know the ideal before I confess identity, " shereplied. "Can't I change the ideal? Or repent my vague, wild fancy?" "Oh, was it wild? Then I must insist upon it. Miss Nan Underhill, anEnglish girl; of course she was tall, this vision of your imagination?" Hanny was quite sure her face grew redder. And this ideal girl wasbeautiful. Oh, dear! "Yes, tall; a daughter of the gods, or the old Norse Vikings before theywere Anglicised, with fair hair. And you have the fair hair. " "But I am not tall! I am sorry to have you disappointed. " "I am not disappointed. What does a vagrant fancy amount to? I considermyself fortunate in meeting Miss Underhill. Why, suppose I had gonerambling about and missed you altogether? Have you known the Jasperslong?" "Oh, years and years. Before they went abroad. " "What a beautiful girl Daisy is! I am glad she is here enjoying herself. Oh, isn't it the regulation thing to speak of the hero of the feast? Ofcourse when you heard he was coming to lecture you began to read hisnovels--if you had not before. " "I had not read them before. There are a great many books I have notread. But I tried at 'Vanity Fair;' and I am afraid I don't like it. " "I do not believe you will now. I can't imagine real young people likingthem. But when one has grown older and had sorrow and suffering andexperience, there are so many touches that go to one's heart. And'Vanity Fair' is a novel without a hero. Still I always feel sorry forpoor Major Dobbins. I wonder if Amelia would have liked him better ifhis name had been something else? Could you fall in love with such aname?" They both laughed. She raised her eyes. How exquisitely fair and sweetand dainty she was! The soft hair had shining lights; and her eyes had atwilight look that suggested a pellucid lake, with evening shadesblowing over it. "A little more of something would have made him a hero, and spoiled thebook. " "But I don't like Amelia, nor Becky; and the Crawleys are horrid. AndThackeray seems holding up everybody and laughing at them. I like tobelieve in people. " "I am glad there is a time when we can believe in them: it is theradiant time of youth. What did that little smile hide, and half betray?Confess!" "Are you so very old?" The charming gravity was irresistible. "Seven and twenty, and I am beginning to worship Thackeray. At seven andthirty, he will be one of my passions, I know. Now and then I come to asentence that goes to my heart. No, do not read him yet awhile, unlessit is some of the little things. There is 'Dr. Birch and his YoungFriends;' and if you want to be amused you must read his continuation of'Ivanhoe. ' But then you will have neither heroines nor heroes left. Andif you and Miss Daisy want to laugh beyond measure, get the 'Rose andthe Ring, ' that he wrote for his two little girls. " "Oh, " said Hanny, "are they at home, in England?" "Yes, with an aunt. " "Haven't they any mother?" "They have no mother, " he said gravely. Years later, the novelist was to be one of the little girl's heroes, when she knew all the bravery of his life, and why his little girls werewithout a mother. Joe and Daisy returned, and there was a pleasant rencontre; then Deliaand Ben came up, and they had a merry chat and a promenade. "I wonder, " as the musicians began tuning again, "if you are engaged forall the dances. Could I be allowed one?" He took up her card. "I have been dancing so much already; but Mrs. Jasper said I might trythe Spanish dance. " "Oh, then try it with me! I am not too old to dance, if I have come toadoring Thackeray. And I am to go away soon. " "To go away--where?" And she glanced up with an interest that gave him aquick sense of pleasure. "To Hamburg first; then to find some relations. " "In Germany? But you are not a German?" in surprise. "I ought to be a Dane, if one's birth counts for anything; and if one'sancestors count, then an old Dutch Knickerbocker, " he returned, with asoft, amused laugh. "But I believe I cannot boast of any Englishdescent, such as the son of a hundred earls. That doesn't sound aspoetic as the daughter of a hundred earls. " "Who was not one to be desired, " interposed the young girl. "Ah, you read Tennyson then? It is odd, but a good many of us begin onpoetry. I like it very much myself. " A touch of thought settled between Hanny's brows. "Are you wondering about my mixed lineage? Part of it came from the oldDutch governor, Jacob Leisler. My grandfather went to Germany, and ranaway with a lady of high degree, and brought her back to America, wheremy father was born, and lived all his young life, until his marriage. Then business took him abroad, and I was born; and my mother died atCopenhagen. My father is connected with the importing house of Strang, Zahner, & Co. , of which Mr. Jasper is a member. He is married again, toa very sweet, amiable German woman. Oh, here we are to take our places!" Hanny hesitated an instant. She longed to have Mrs. Jasper'sapprobation. "We have been looking for you, " said Ben. "Let us begin in the one set. Here is Daisy and Joe. " Then it would be all right. She glanced up and smiled with cordialassent. The old-fashioned Spanish dance was a great favourite at that time, whengermans were unknown. Its graceful turns and windings, its statelybalances, until the dancers seemed all one long elegant chain, thatmoved to the perfect time of the music, was indeed fascinating. Peopledanced then. Youth never dreamed of being bored, and walking languidly. Every movement was delicate and refined. Was she really in some enchanted country? When Mr. Andersen wascompelled to leave her, he glanced over or past his partner with anexpression so near a smile that Hanny's pulses quickened. When he cameback, the light touch of his hand gave her a little thrill that wasquite delicious. Now and then they had a bit of conversation. Once he said, in his charming fashion, that was admiration rather thancriticism:-- "Why, you _are_ very petite!" "Yes; I am not the tall, slim English girl. " "I am very glad. We dance so well together; I wish I were not going awayso soon. And you can't guess--you will think it strange, --to Americanideas it is; but when I go back I have to hunt up a descendant of thisgrandmother of high degree who has been making matrimonial overtures tomy father on my behalf. " "Oh, that is like a story! And what will you do?" "I will think about it, and answer you when you return to me. " He gave her to the next partner, with a graceful inclination of thehead. There were numberless evolutions before he could take her again. Sheglanced up out of sweet, questioning eyes. "I've been considering, " he resumed, as if they had not parted. "Yousee, it is this way. My father is very, very fond of me, though thereare other children. Then I have my mother's fortune, which he has beenvery watchful of. He is a splendid, upright, honourable man. Now, ifyour father asked such a thing of you, --what I mean is, if he asked youto see some one and learn how well you could like her or him--" She was off again. Oh, what a sweet little fairy she was! What poetwrote about twinkling feet? Hers certainly twinkled in their daintiness. He had not considered her prettiness at first; now it seemed as if shewas exquisitely fair, with that soft pink in her cheeks. "Yes. Do you not believe you would go to please him, and see? And youmight not like her, and she might not like you. But sometimes people dotake sudden fancies. What do you think, looking at it out of an Americangirl's eyes?" "I should go for my father's sake. " There was such a delicate gravity in her clear eyes as she raised them alittle. "Thank you, " he returned softly. "What an odd thing to talk of in themidst of our dancing! When you are older, you will find people making aconfidante of you very often, you seem so serious and truthful. " They were coming down to the end of the winding chain; Mr. And Mrs. Jasper stood there. One more figure, and the cornet and horns andviolins gave three long breaths of melody and stopped. "My dear children, " said Mrs. Jasper, as she stretched out her hand. "Daisy, you will be in bed all day to-morrow! Your mother will nevertrust me with you again, Hanny; I didn't think it would be so long. " "But it was so delightful, mamma. " Daisy was in a tumult of pleasure. "We must go at once. Mr. Jasper will be back by the time we have foundour wraps. Doctor, I can't thank you for making such a patient martyr ofyourself, only you are always so good. Hanny, have you had a nice time?" "It has been splendid, " with a long, long breath, and shining lights inher eyes. Delia went to the dressing-room with them. "I'm going to have two more dances, " she said. "It is the first realball I've been to in a long while. I'm so glad you came. Ben says henever imagined you were so pretty. Think of that, from one's ownbrother! And Daisy did not shine you down, either. " Hanny kissed her with a sort of rapture. She couldn't understand; sheseemed to be walking on the azure clouds instead of solid earth. Mr. Andersen went to the carriage with them, and said he should surelycall when he returned from Philadelphia. Daisy leaned her head down on her mother's shoulder. She was more tiredthan she would admit. Hanny's eyes were like stars, and her brain wasstill filled with wonderful melodies and light airy figures trooping tothe ravishing sounds, the shimmering light and sparkle. Doctor Joe justcarried her up the steps, and opened the door with his latch-key. ButMrs. Underhill had heard them, and she came downstairs, wrapped in ashawl. "Oh, Joe, how could you keep her out so late! Do you know it's almostthree o'clock?" Then the mother folded her to her heart. It seemed as if she had beensnatched from some great danger; and now that she had her safe andsound, she felt as if she should never let her go again. "You're all excitement, Hanny; you tremble like a leaf. Suchdissipations are bad for growing girls. " "Oh, mother, I think I'm done growing, " Hanny laughed, with a soft ringof music in her voice. "I have wanted to be tall like Margaret; but nowI do not mind a bit. I think I shall always be father's little girl. Andthe dancing was so delightful; but you can't think how queer and longthe supper was. And Mr. Thackeray really shook hands with me. He has twolittle girls, and they haven't any mother. If you could have seen Daisy!And she dances beautifully. " "Hanny, your tongue runs like a mill-race. Do keep still, child. Cynthiahas you pinned in every fashion. I hope your dress looked nice enoughfor a little girl. There, I'll take care of them all. You will neverwant to get up in the morning. " When she had hung the dress out of sight, she felt as if she had herlittle girl once more. And the little girl fell asleep to the sound ofthe most delicious music ever floating through one's brain. CHAPTER XIX THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE Yes, Hanny Underhill was a little girl again in gaiter-length dresses, and her braids tied across at the back of her head. They let her sleepuntil the latest moment; and then she had to hurry off to school. Buther eyes were bright; and she could have danced along the street, if ithad been the proper thing to do. Daisy did not fare so well. She had a headache, and was very languid. Joe said Hanny had better not go down; and that Daisy would be all rightto-morrow. So Hanny studied her lessons, and began to read "Vanity Fair"aloud to grandmother. But grandmother said she didn't care about such asilly girl as Amelia; and though there were wretched women in the world, she didn't believe any one ever was quite so scheming and heartless asBecky. Then Hanny told her father about the dancing, and the partners she had, and Mr. Andersen, who was going back to Germany to marry some distantcousin. Altogether, it was a splendid time, only she felt as if therehad been some kind of a Cinderella transformation; and that she wassafe only as long as she wore short frocks. A week afterward, Mr. Andersen returned to the city, and Hanny wasinvited down to tea at the Jaspers. They had a nice time, only the talkwas not quite so charming as when it was interspersed with dancing. He was to go to Paris also. And now Louis Napoleon had followed in thefootsteps of his illustrious uncle, and was really Emperor of France. What a strange, romantic history his had been! After this, life went on with tolerable regularity. There was plenty ofamusement. Old New York did not suffer. Laura Keene thrilled them withthe "Hunchback, " and many another personation. Matilda Heron was doingsome fine work in Milman's "Fazio, " and the play of "The Stranger" heldaudiences spell-bound. Then there were lectures for the moresober-minded people; and you heard youngish men who were to be famousafterward. Spirit-rappings had fallen a trifle into disfavour; andphrenology was making converts. It was the proper thing to go toFowler's and have your head examined, and get a chart, which sort ofsettled you until something else came along. Young ladies were goinginto Combe's physiology and hygiene and cold bathing. Some very hardyand courageous women were studying medicine. Emerson was in a certainway rivalling Carlyle. Wendell Phillips was enchanting the cities withhis silver tongue. There had been Brooke Farm; and Margaret Fuller hadflashed across the world, married her Italian lover, who fought whileshe wrote for liberty; and husband, wife, and child had met their tragicdeath in very sight of her native land. People were thinking really great thoughts; and there was a ferment ofmoral, transcendental, and æsthetical philosophy. Women met to discussthem in each other's parlours, prefiguring the era of clubs. Alice andPh[oe]be Cary's receptions had grown to be quite the rage; and Anne C. Lynch was another figure in the social-literary world. Beecher wasdrawing large audiences in Brooklyn, and telling the old truths in a newfashion. There is always a great seething and tumult before the waterfairly boils and precipitates the dregs to the bottom. But whatever comes and goes, young girls are always growing up with theflush and fragrance and elusive fascinations of spring. To-day, acredulous tenderness and overwhelming faith in the past; to-morrow, alittle doubtful, hesitatingly anticipative, with the watchwords of "TheTrue, the Good, and the Beautiful;" and still concerned in the lateststyle of doing one's back hair, and if silver combs and gilt pins wouldkeep in fashion; and flushing celestial rosy red, yet with an odd senseof importance, when men began to lift their hats in a gravely politemanner, as if the laughing, hoydenish girl of yesterday, who strungherself out four or five wide on the sidewalk with books in hand, wasthe shy, refined, hesitating, utterly delicious young woman of to-day. There were times when Hanny stood on the mysterious borderland. She usedto steal up and look at the wraith of a ball-dress hanging in thethird-floor closet, put away with the "choice" garments. The skirtlooked so long, almost uncanny. She could see the girl who had gone tothe banquet, who had danced with young men who asked "the pleasure" withthe politest inclination of the head. And, oh, the lovely dances she hadwith Mr. Andersen! The bewitching Spanish movement floated through herbrain; and the young man's voice--what a curious, lingering sweetness ithad--went over her like a wave of music. Of course his German cousinwould fall in love with him, --how could she help it?--and they wouldmarry. They would go to Paris once a year or so, when business took him;they would go over to London; but their real home would be in someGerman town, or maybe in the castle from which the pretty grandmotherhad run away with her American lover. She was so glad there were realromances left in the world. It wasn't likely any would happen to her. She was not tall, nor elegant, nor handsome; and though she could sing"Bonnie Doon, " "Annie Laurie, " "A Rose-tree in Full Bearing, " and "TheGirl I Left behind me, " for her father, she was not a company singer. But she really didn't mind. Her father would want her. She wasn't quiteresigned to being an old maid; but then she need not worry until she wastwenty-five. And when you came to that, half the relatives were fightingfor Miss Cynthia Blackfan; and Mr. Erastus Morgan had invited her overto Paris to see the new Emperor, who was copying in every way hisgranduncle who had ruled half Europe. Then she would close the closet door and run blithely downstairs with abit of song. That was Miss Nan Underhill up there; and in her shortschool-girl frock she was plain household Hanny. But they had delightful times. Doctor Joe bought a new buggy, very widein the seat, and used to take her and Daisy out when the days werepleasant. Then Charles and Josie came over evenings, or they went toMrs. Dean's, and talked and sang and discussed their favourite poems andstories, and thought how rich the world was growing, and wondered howtheir grandfathers and grandmothers had existed! The little rue in the Underhills' cup became sweetened presently withthe balm of love and forbearance, that time or circumstances usuallybrings about when truth and good sense are at the helm. Matters had gone rather hard with Delia Whitney of late. In a certainfashion, she had come to the parting of the intellectual ways. Peoplewere as eager then as now to discover new geniuses. There were not somany writing, and it was easier to gain a hearing. She had beensuccessful. She had been praised; her stories and poems were accepted, published, and paid for. She had been made much of by her brother'sfriends, and some of the literary women she had met. She began to realise it was not altogether wandering at one's sweetwill, unless one had a garden of unfailing bloom in which to gather theflowers of poetry, or even prose. There were greater heights than evengirlhood's visions. But there must be training and study to reach them, and she had been lilting along in a desultory way, like a carelesschild. But had she any real genius? When she bent her whole mind to thecultivation of every energy, what if she should find it was energy andimagination merely? Her novel did not progress to her satisfaction. Characters might be common-place; but there was to be force enough intheir delineation to keep the attention of the reader. They must beclear-cut, vivid; and hers seemed all too much alike, with no salientpoints. "Do you suppose no one ever felt discouraged before?" asked Ben, withhis brave, sweet smile. "That's no sign. " "But if I really wasn't a genius? And I have had so many splendid plansand plots in my brain; but when they come out, they are flat and weak. Idon't ever expect to stand on the top-most round; but I can't stay downat the bottom always. I would rather not be anywhere. " Ben comforted her in his quiet fashion. "Oh, what should I do without you!" she cried. "I want to achievesomething for your sake. " "You will achieve. And if you do not, there is enjoyment left. Youinspire other people. " "With a kind of girlish nonsense that passes for wit. But older mindsdemand the real article. " "You have a certain brightness of talk that brings out the best in otherpeople. That is a rare gift, I am beginning to observe. Put the novel byfor a little while. " "But every time I take it out, it seems worse, " she returned ruefully. Then she admitted another worry. "Aunt Patty stumbled and fell about a month ago in her room. She waslame for some days; and I can see she isn't quite the same. Motherthinks it was a stroke. She is old, you know, and if she should be laidup! She clings to me so. You see, she misses Nora, who was running inand out, and the young girls who came here, and--oh, Ben, I am afraid Iam growing stupid!" Ben laughed and kissed her, and told her not to cross bridges until shecame to them. Then Theodore went to Washington for a fortnight; and Ben felt that itwas hard for Delia to be bereft of that useful article, a man around thehouse. When Theodore returned, there was an imperative journey to theWest. Already there were clouds rising that disquieted the wiseststatesmen who were studying how to prevent any outward clashing. Mr. Whitney, with his _savoir faire_, was considered one of the best men tosend on a _quasi_ political mission. "You just drop in to supper every evening, Ben, " he said with hisGood-bye. "Dele has a head worth that of any half-dozen women; but Ilike to feel some one is looking after her. Mother is away a good deal. " The. Had a misgiving Ben and Delia might want to marry; but theycouldn't possibly spare Delia. So he was very friendly and obliging toBen. "Mother, " oddly enough, was taking a great interest in the small end ofthe woman question, that was pushing its way in among other things. Mr. Whitney had been the most indulgent of husbands, and her sons hadaccepted household discomforts with no grumbling. But she took mostkindly to the emancipation of women. She had a friend in Brooklyn whowas lecturing on the subject; and she had vague aspirations that wayherself. She was still a woman of fine presence and a fair share ofintelligence. Bridget had married, and been superseded by an untrained Katy. AuntPatty was growing rather weak-hearted and childish, so Delia did haveher hands full, and but little time for writing. Theodore had been absent hardly a week when the stroke came. Onemorning, Aunt Patty was unable to move hand or foot on one side, andcould hardly speak intelligibly, though her face kept its sweetexpression. Mrs. Whitney had gone away somewhere with her friend. When Ben heard the sad story that night, and folded the trembling, sobbing girl to his heart, his resolve was taken. A nurse had come, tobe sure; but Delia should not bear this trial alone. He must live here, and comfort her with his love. He went home quite early that evening. His father and Hanny were inJoe's study; his mother sat alone, darning stockings. She glanced up and smiled; but when she saw his grave face, she said, "Oh, Ben, what has happened?" "They are in great trouble down at Beach Street. Old Aunt Boudinot hashad a stroke of paralysis. Mrs. Whitney has gone on a little journeywith a friend; and Delia is alone. Mother, I have resolved to be marriedand help her bear her burthen. There is no immediate danger of MissBoudinot dying, I believe; but since The. Is away--they need some one--" "Ben!" Then she looked in her boy's face. Benny Frank and Jim were still boysto her. There was Joe to be married before it came their turn, and poorGeorge, if he should live to come back. But it was not a boy's face, nora boy's pleading eyes, that met hers. A man's grave sweetness, and senseof responsibility, shone in the clear, deep grey orbs, and the wholeface had matured, so that she was amazed, bewildered. "Mother dear, " he began, "can't you wish me God speed, as you have theothers? I've never loved any one but Delia; I never shall. I know I canmake her happy; and isn't there some duty on my side? Am I to demandeverything, and throw out a few crumbs of comfort now and then? We haveknown each other long enough to be quite sure, quite satisfied. But shehas said all along she would not marry me until she could be considereda daughter of the house. I shall persuade her to now, unless--mother, can't you give her a welcome?" He put his arms about his mother's neck. Was there some mysteriousstrength and manliness in him she had not realised before, even in hisvery voice. When had she lost her boy? What a pang went to her inmostheart. Yes, he was a man, and he had a right to himself. She was not aselfish woman; but her face dropped down on his shoulder and she criedsoftly. "Mother--dear. " There was a sweet, faint break in his voice, and hekissed her brow softly. "You have been such a good boy, Ben. I've been a little worriedsometimes about Jim; but you have gone on so straight and steadfast. Ido thank the Lord for all of you. And I have wanted you to have thebest--" "She is the best to me, mother. Like her a little for my sake, " hepleaded tenderly. "I _do_ like her. If she makes you happy--" That was all. If Delia made her son as happy as Dolly or Cleanthe-- Ben kissed his mother. Ten years ago she had thought kissing ratherfoolish for anybody but the little girl. Now her big sons always kissedher. Perhaps there was more love in the world. They began to make plans presently. Ben was in favour of a quietmarriage; and of course he would remain at Beach Street. Delia hadpromised to care for her aunt; and there was no one else to takecharge. "I don't know as I have been just right about it, " said Mrs. Underhill. "But Mrs. Whitney's carelessness and inefficiency have always tried me. Still, the children have turned out well. Delia is smart, and capable;and since you are quite resolved--" Ben smiled then; and it went to his mother's heart. He knew he had wonthe victory. The next morning she said to him:-- "Ben, I've decided to go down and see Delia. I have never been there butonce, since they went to Beach Street. Could you stop and tell her? Giveher my love. I'm very sorry all this should happen, and she alone. " Mrs. Underhill was not given to half-hearted measures. When the work wasdone, and the dinner planned out, she dressed herself and wentdown-town. Delia was a little embarrassed at first; but they talkedabout Aunt Boudinot, and she went up to see her. The sweet old facelighted up, and she reached out her "best hand, " in a sad sort offashion; but she could utter only one word at a time. "Ben said, I must keep you to dinner, and he would come up, " exclaimedDelia, with a bright blush. It was so like old times to hear hercheerful voice. "And you will be late at home. " Delia ran down and put on a clean cloth, and wiped the dishes over witha dry towel, to take off the roughness Katy always left behind in hermanipulations. And she broiled the steak herself. She could do that toperfection. Then they arranged about the marriage. Delia certainly did need someone. It was not worth while to make any fuss. Mrs. Whitney would surelybe back by Monday, and it was appointed for that evening. Dolly took the news with cordial sweetness. Margaret was sorry that Benhad not looked a little higher; but since it must be, they would makethe best of it. Hanny was delighted. Joe went down that very evening, and gave the young people his best love. Mrs. Whitney came home on Saturday. She considered the step veryjudicious. She thought they had been engaged long enough. Then Ben andThe. Were such good friends; and with The. Away so much, it waslonesome. "She was glad they had set the marriage for Monday evening, for she had promised to go out to Buffalo on Tuesday with Mrs. Stafford. A nurse was the proper thing for Aunt Patty. It was too bad, to be sure;but at her time of life, one might expect almost anything. And she, Mrs. Whitney, never had been any sort of a nurse; so it was folly for her toundertake it. " She was very sweet to Aunt Patty. She had a good deal ofthe suavity that helps matters to run easily, and her sympathies wereboundless. Delia's sisters, and their children, and a few friends were invited. Allthe Underhills came, and Hanny was bridesmaid; but she wore her lastsummer's embroidered muslin, which was not long in the skirt. They missed Ben a good deal, though he ran up every now and then. AndTheodore was gone six weeks, instead of two or three. Now that Mrs. Underhill had really "given in, " she was most cordial and sympathetic toher new daughter. Doctor Joe went down every day, though very littlecould be done, since even a physician could not fight against old age. Joe thought Delia very sweet and patient. There were two great undertakings engrossing the public mind. One was agrand library. Old Mr. John Jacob Astor, some years previous, had left alarge sum of money for this purpose; and there were heated discussionsas to its scope and purpose. It would be a reference library rather thanan entirely free library for general readers. But it would be a fineaddition to the city. The other was the Crystal Palace. There had been the first famousWorld's Fair at Sydenham, opened by the Prince Consort. And now, we weretrying our energy and ingenuity to have something worthy of attractingthe nations. Reservoir Square had been selected; and the great ironbraces and supports and ribs had been watched with curiously eager eyes, as they spread out into a giant framework, and were covered with glassthat glinted in the sun like molten gold. When its graceful dome arose, enthusiasm knew no bounds. We had not dreamed of the great White City then. But we were only in theearly middle part of the century. A park had been opened on the east side, out of an old tract known as"Jones's Woods, " and was quite a picnic-place for the working-people ona holiday. There was a talk about another, and, perhaps, the inspirationwas evolved as the Fair grounds were being put in attractive order. Ashort time afterward, the Central Park board was appointed, withWashington Irving as president. The country was wild and rough all about. Here and there, clusters ofhouses began to indicate the coming city. Kip farm had not disappeared;and people talked of Strawberry Hill and Harlem Heights; and thereremained some fortifications of the old Rock House of 1812 memory. Theold times were recalled, as people went rambling around. Broadway still kept its vogue and elegance on the dollar side. There wasThompson's and Taylor's, where the stylish young ladies stopped in theafternoon for chocolate or cream and confections, and theatre partieswent after the play. But, on the whole, there were mysterious stridesup-town. The old streets were quaint and cool in summer, with the trees that hadgrown for years in ungrudged spaces. The park in Beach Street was stilllovely; and now Hanny often went over from school and stayed to tea withBen and Delia. Daisy came down as well; and they talked of Nora, who wasgetting on famously, and who had sung at an out-of-doors fête for achildren's charity. Delia was happy and charming; but she was very much engrossed with homeaffairs. Nurses grew tired and went away; and Aunt Patty became more andmore helpless. Then came the great event to Hanny's life, and she was quite nervousover it. This was graduation; but when she had passed the examinationssuccessfully, the real care was over. And the new clothes! The old ones had been made to do through thespring; but now there was no question about long skirts. There werepretty plaid summer-silks, --everybody wore them then, and they werealmost as cheap as now, --lawns, a light grey cashmere for ordinaryoccasions, and a white India muslin for graduation. The very nextevening Dolly was to give her a party. Grandmother thought it ought to be at home, instead. "She will want one in the fall, " said Dolly, "to announce that she isreally Miss Underhill, and ready for society. Home will be the place forthat. And she will be getting acquainted with young people through thesummer. She's never been anything but a little girl. " There wasn't such a fuss made about sweet girl graduates then; and, later on, Rutgers Institute was to wheel into line and become a college;but even now they had bouquets and baskets of flowers. And some of thegirls had lovers, and were engaged, even if there was no co-education. The chapel was crowded with admiring friends; and the girls looked sweetand pretty in their white gowns and flowing curls; for youth has a charmand beauty of its own that does not depend on regular features, orstyle, or any of the later accessories of life. It is an enchanted landof sunny skies and heavenly atmospheres. She came home out of it all with a curious new feeling. That night ofthe banquet it had been almost a masquerade. Even now the blue shimmerand clouds of white ruffles seemed to belong to some other state. Shewondered a little if she would ever wear it again. There were some pretty gifts for her at home. Josie Dean and CharlieReed came around in the evening. He had passed his first year'sexaminations successfully. Doctor Joe and Jim and the elder people were talking very earnestlyabout the duties and the purposes of life. Josie touched Hanny's hand, and, with a little movement, the sign girls understand, drew her out onthe porch. "Let us walk down the path. Oh, Hanny, I've something to tell you!" andher voice was in a sort of delicious tremble. "May be you havesuspected. I told Charlie I _must_ confess it to you; though we do notmean to say much about it at present. Oh, Hanny, can't you guess?" There were so many things; it was something joyful, certainly. Sheglanced up and smiled. Josie's face was all one roseate flush. "Oh!" with a mysterious throb. "We are engaged, dear. I don't know when we began to love each other. Wehave been so much with each other, you know. He has helped me with mylessons; and we have sung, and played, and read, and gone to churchtogether. It was like having a brother. Tudie and I used to envy youthe boys. And it was not quite like a brother either, for anotherfeeling came in. Sometimes I wanted to run away, such a queer tremblecame over me. Then there were hours when I could hardly wait for him tocome home from the seminary. And for a while, he was so grave, Iwondered if I had offended him. And then--do you suppose any one cantell just _how_ it happens?--though they always do in books. All in aninstant, you know some one loves you. It's strange and beautiful andexciting; and it seems as if the best and loveliest of all the world hadcome to you. We have been engaged a whole week; and every day it growsmore mysteriously delightful. " "It is so strange, " said Hanny, with a long, indrawn breath. "And--Charlie!" "Oh, don't you remember how we waylaid Mr. Reed one night, and beggedhim to let Charlie go to singing-school? He laughed about it the othernight, though he said you were the bravest of the three. And he isdelighted with it. Then mother is so fond of Charles. Of course it willbe a two years' engagement. Mother doesn't want me to teach school now. She thinks I ought to learn about housekeeping and sewing, and fitmyself for a minister's wife. That seems so solemn, doesn't it? Oh, I dowonder if I can be good enough! And visiting the poor, and helping tothe right way, and being patient and sweet, and real religious! But hewill help me; and he is so good! I think he couldn't have been anythingbut a minister. I _do_ suppose Mrs. Reed knows about it in heaven. Shewas so different that last year, sweeter and kinder; and we feel sureshe has gone to heaven. But we want her to know; and dear little Tudie!You must come over and spend the day, now that school is ended; and wewill do nothing but talk about it. Oh, Hanny, I hope some day you willhave a lover! But you seem such a sort of a little girl even yet. And Ihave worn long skirts a whole year. " A lover! Hanny's face was scarlet in the fragrant dusk. "We must go in. I promised mother we would not stay late. And Charliehas some examinations for to-morrow. You may tell your mother and DaisyJasper. " Joe said they needn't hurry off so; and Charles flushed as he looked atJosie. They rose and said good-night; and Josie kissed Hanny in arapturous kind of fashion. "I'll bet a sixpence those two youngsters are engaged, " said Jim. "Hanny, what was all the long talk about?" She was not quite sure all the rest were to be taken in the confidence;but she looked so conscious, and Jim was so positive, that she admittedthe fact. "That's just like a theological student. " "It is a very suitable engagement. Mrs. Dean has brought Josie upsensibly; and Charles is such a fine fellow. Of course they must all bepleased about it, " commented Mrs. Underhill. CHAPTER XX MISS NAN UNDERHILL Just a few days later, Mrs. Odell came down for some advice and help, for Janey was to be married. Her betrothed was a well-to-do young farmerup in Sullivan County. He was coming down in August to go to the World'sFair; and he wanted to be married and make a general holiday of it. "I am not much judge of such matters; but Stephen's wife will goshopping with you. I don't know what we should do without her, " saidMrs. Underhill. That very morning two silver-embossed envelopes came for Miss NanUnderhill. One schoolmate was to be married in church at noon, and go toNiagara on a wedding journey. The other was an evening ceremony with areception afterward. Mr. James Underhill had an invitation to this also. Was all the world getting married, or being engaged! Standing on thethreshold, Hanny shrank back in dismay. It was looking out of a tranquilcloister into a great, unknown world; and it gave her a mysteriousshiver. She didn't feel safe and warm until she had dropped on herfather's knee, and had his strong, fond arms about her. Dolly's party was a great success. The young people were invited to meetMiss Nan Underhill. And Miss Nan wore her graduation dress and blueribbons. Blue gave her a sort of ethereal look; pink added a kind ofblossomy sweetness. Dolly knew so many young folks. True, there were some older ones. Benand Delia came up for an hour. Dolly said they were old-fashionedmarried people already. Hanny thought there didn't seem much difference, only Ben had a new strange sort of sweetness. She was very fond ofDelia; and it was a delight to feel free to go down to Beach Street. Peter and Paulus Beekman came; and they were nice, fine, rather stoutyoung men. Peter was a lawyer; he and Jim were quite friends. Paulus wasin shipping business. "Oh, " said Peter to Nan, "you look just as you did when you were alittle girl and used to come to grandfather's. Do you remember thatbeautiful Angora cat? That was grandfather's sign. He always took topeople Katschina liked. And your hair hasn't grown any darker. I likelight hair. Aunt Dolly has such beautiful hair! And I'm glad you havenot grown up into a great, tall May-pole. I just adore little women. When I marry, I am going to choose a 'bonnie wee thing, ' like the wifein the song. " Hanny flushed rosy red. Oh, why would people talk about being married, and all that? And if Peter wouldn't look at her in just that way! Itgave her a touch of embarrassment. But oh, they had a splendid time! Modern young people would have beenbored, and voted it "no spread at all. " They played Proverbs, and Whatis my thought like? and everybody tried to bring out their very best, and be as bright and witty and joyous as possible. They had plain cakeand fancy cake, and a new kind of dainty crisp crackers; candies, nuts, raisins, and mottoes, which were the greatest fun of all. Afterward, some dancing with the Cheat quadrille, and it was so amusing to "cutout, " or run away and leave your partner with his open arms, and a blanklook of surprise on his face. Doctor Joe came to take the little girl home; for he was quite sure Jimwould want to take some one else's sister. "Aunt Dolly, " said Peter, when he was going away without any girl atall, though he had hoped to walk home with Hanny, "isn't Nan Underhilljust the sweetest little thing in the world? I don't wonder grandfatherliked her so. With that soft, indescribable hair, and hereyes, --twilight eyes, some one put in a poem, --and that cunning dimplewhen she smiles, and so dainty altogether. What made you say she was notpretty?" "Why, I said, she was not as handsome as Mrs. Hoffman. " "She suits me ten times better. She is like this, "'A creature not too bright or good For human nature's daily food. '" Dolly repeated the talk and the verses to Stephen. "And Peter is such asolid, steady-going fellow. He was really smitten. " "The idea! And with that child!" Dolly laughed gaily. "I suppose when our girls get to be eighteen, youwill still think them children. Why, I wasn't quite fifty when you fellin love with me!" Fifty! How ridiculous it was to think of Dolly ever being fifty. Ah, itis love alone that holds the secret of eternal youth! "Well, I hope there won't any one be foolish over Hanny, in a longwhile, " said Stephen, decisively. "Foolish!" repeated Dolly, in a tone of resentment. But then they bothlaughed. The Odell girls came down to make a two days' visit. They went up to theDeans' to tea; and the two engaged girls strayed off by themselves, withtheir arms about each other, and had confidences in which the masculinepronoun played an important part. And poor Polly bewailed the prospectof being left alone. If she had a brother like Jim, she wouldn't mind. Jim's girls were a kind of standing amusement to the family. This was acase where there was safety in numbers, Mrs. Underhill felt assured. Ifshe had known of the episode of Lily Ludlow, her confidence would havebeen a little shaken. Jim was a general lover of the sex, and agood-looking, entertaining young fellow is apt to be spoiled. Just now he had a penchant for Daisy, who teased him, and was asuncertain as an April shower. She and Hanny were inseparables. Jim tookthem round to Dolly's, or down to Ben's, or to Mrs. Hoffman, who had anew grand piano, and had refurnished her parlor, quite changing thesimplicity of her first wedded life. Through the winter, she had givenfortnightly receptions, that had an air and grace of the highestrefinement. You always met some of the best and the most entertainingpeople. It was not a crush and a jam; but men and women really talked atthat period, and brought out their best. Knowledge was not at adiscount. Young ladies came to call on Miss Underhill; and in the evenings, theybrought their brothers or admirers. When she knew of it beforehand, shealways had Daisy to help. Sometimes the whole party would go out for alittle walk, and have some cream or water ices. The city was still soairy and open, you did not have to fly out of it at the first pleasantday. This summer, nearly everybody was staying at home, and waiting for thebig fair to open. Rooms at hotels and private houses were engaged; andthe plainer country people came in to visit. There would be crowds, ofcourse. The Underhills had invited some of the elder relatives, since they hadplenty of room. And on July 4th, this great event occurred. The President, Mr. FranklinPierce at that time, was the grand master of the occasion. Oh, what aFourth of July it was! The grounds were crowded. The military were outin force; and the fireworks would have done credit to the empire ofChina. Never had the city seen such a gala time; the Victory of Peace itwas called. The men had it largely to themselves this day. It was more theceremonies, than the articles exhibited, that attracted attention. Thatcame later on. There was a great influx of visitors in the city. The streets werethronged; the stages were crowded. One wonders what they did withoutelectric cars. But numbers of people still kept carriages, and temporarylodging-houses were erected in the vicinity of the Palace. It certainlywas a great thing for that day. And the interior, with its handsomedome, its galleries, its arched naves, and broad aisles, had a strikingand splendid effect. And, oh, the riches of the world that had contributed some of itschoicest treasures! There were many people who never expected to go toEurope, and who were glad beyond measure to have it come to them. Herewas the largest collection of paintings and sculpture that had ever beengathered in New York. Then, for the first time, we saw Powers' matchlessGreek slave, and Kiss' Amazon, and many another famous marble. There wasthe row of the Apostles by the sculptor Thorwaldsen, about which therewas always a concourse of people; and some of the devout could almostsee them in the flesh. We have had a Centennial since, and a famous White City, and almost anyday, in New York, you can see some famous pictures and statuary. Thenpeople run over to Europe, and study up the galleries, and write booksof exquisite descriptions; but it was not so at that time. There is thegrand Museum of Art near to where the old Palace stood; but all was newthen. We had not been surfeited with beauty; we had not had a flood ofart critics, praising or denouncing, and schools of this or that fad. Itis good for cities, as well as nations, that they should once be young, and revel in the enchanting sense of freshness and delight. Presently, it became a sort of regular thing to go, --a kind ofsummer-day excursion. There were delightful walks and drives up above. Bloomingdale was still a garden of sweetness. Riverside was unknown, only as the beautiful bank of the Hudson. You went and carried yourlunch, or you found some simple cottage, where a country-woman dispensedtruly home-made bread, and delicious ham, and a glass of milk, buttermilk on some days. The remembrance of it to Hanny Underhill, through all her after years, was as of a golden summer. The little knot of young people kepttogether. When Josie Dean recovered somewhat, from the first transportsof her engagement, she proved very companionable. Charles, in his longvacation, was quite at their service. Jim couldn't always be at liberty;but he did get off pretty often. Sometimes Joe, sometimes FatherUnderhill, chaperoned the party; but they were allowed to go bythemselves as well. Girl friends joined them; Peter Beekman, and evenPaulus, thought it a great thing to be counted in. Oh, the wonderful articles! It was a liberal education. Sèvres china, Worcestershire with its wonderful tint, Wedgwood, Doulton, Cloisonnée, some rare Italian; and the tragic stories of Palissy, of JosiahWedgwood, and Charles III. Of Naples taking his secret to Spain; somequeer Chinese ware, and Delft and Dresden, until it seemed as if halfthe genius of the world must have been expended in the exquisiteproductions. And then the laces, the gossamer fabrics, the silks and velvets, thejewels, the elegant things from barbaric Russia, the wonders of theOrient, the plainer exhibit of our own land rich in mechanical wonders, the natural products, the sewing-machine that now could do the finest ofwork, the miniature looms weaving, the queer South American and Mexicanfabrications, the gold from California, --well, it seemed as if one nevercould see it all. Hanny wondered why Peter Beekman should want to stay close by her whenDaisy was so bright and entertaining, and when there were other girls. When he looked at her so earnestly her heart gave a great throb, hercheeks burned, and she wanted to run away. He wished she wasn't so shy and so ready to shelter herself underCharlie's wing, or her father's, or Joe's. And when she felt really safeshe was so merry and enchanting! It was a day in August, rather warm, to be sure; but Polly Odell hadcome down just on purpose to go, "for now that Janey was married andgone the house was too horrid lonesome!" They stopped for Josie. DoctorJoe brought Daisy up in the afternoon, and they were all in thepicture-gallery, where they were ever finding something new. PerhapsPolly had made big eyes at Peter; perhaps Peter liked her because shetalked so much about Hanny. Anyhow, they had rambled off way at one end. Daisy was resting, and telling the doctor about some pictures in theBerlin gallery. Hanny moved up and down slowly, not getting very faraway. She was fond of interiors, and the homely Dutch or French womencooking supper, or tending a baby, or spinning. And there were twokittens she had never seen before, scampering about an old kitchen wherea man in his shirt-sleeves had fallen asleep over his paper. It seemedto her she could see them move. A man of six or seven and twenty, young for his years, yet with acertain stamp of the world and experience, went slowly along, glancingat the visitors in a casual manner. Of course he would know Miss Jasperand Dr. Underhill. It was like looking for a needle in a hay-stack; butMrs. Jasper had suggested the picture-gallery; and suddenly he saw asmall figure and fair face under a big leghorn hat full of wild rosesand green leaves. She was smiling at the playful kittens. Oh, it surelywas Miss Nan Underhill! He came nearer; and she looked startled, as if she might fly. What adelicious colour drenched her face! "Oh, you surely haven't forgotten me!" he cried. "I should remember youthousands of years, and I could pick you out of a world full of women. " "I--" Then she gave her soft little laugh, and the colour wentfluttering all over her face in a startled, happy manner. "But Ithought--" "Did you think me a fixture in German wilds? Well, I am not. It's along, long story; but I have come over now for good, to be a trueAmerican citizen all the rest of my days. The steamer arrived lastnight; but I couldn't get off until nearly noon. Then I went to a hoteland had some dinner, and came up to see Mrs. Jasper. She sent me here. Where are the others?" "Daisy is--" she glanced about--"oh, down there with my brother, --andMiss Odell"--how queer that sounded! "Let us stop here and rest until I get my breath and summon enoughfortitude to encounter them. You are dreadfully surprised, I see by yourface, I don't wonder. I must seem to you dropped from the clouds. " She wasn't a bit afraid, and sat down beside him. And she wondered if hehad married the German cousin and brought her over; but it was strangenot to mention her. It must be, however, if he was going to live inAmerica. "Oh, do you remember that night and the Spanish dance? I have shut myeyes and danced it ever so many times in memory. And you sent meaway, "--with a soft, untranslatable laugh. "I--" She looked amazed. She seemed caught and held captive in the swirlof some strange power. The colour fluttered up and down her sweet face, and her eyelids drooped, their long, soft lashes making shadows. "Yes, you said I ought to go; and I shall always be glad I went, "--in aconfident tone. "Your cousin?" she said inquiringly, with no consciousness that a wordwould swerve either way. "Yes. You know I told you my father's wishes. That sort of thing doesn'tseem queer to continental people. But it was not so much his as theaunt's, --the relation is farther back than that; but it serves the samepurpose. She had known about my father, and was desirous of beingfriends. So after I was home about a week, and had confessed to myfather that the prospect of the marriage was not agreeable to me, hestill begged me to go. " Hanny looked almost as if she was disappointed. He smiled and resumed:-- "It is a lonely spot on the Rhine, not far from Ebberfeld. We will lookit up some day. I don't know how people can spend their lives in suchdreary places. I do not wonder my grandmother ran away with her bravelover. The castle is fast going to ruins. There was a brother who wasteda great deal of the patrimony before he died. The Baroness is the lastof her race. There is a poor little village at the foot of the mountain, and some peasants who work the land; and then the cousin, who isexpected to rehabilitate the race by marrying a rich man. " "Yes. " There was such a pretty, eager interest and pity in her eyes thathe smiled. "She is six and twenty; tall, fair, with a sorrowful kind of face, thathas never been actually happy or pretty. Who could be happy in thatmusty old rookery! The father, I believe, did very little for theirpleasure, but spent most of his time in town, wasting their littlesubstance. " "Oh, poor girl!" cried Hanny, thinking of her own father, so loving andgenerous. "She seemed to me almost as old as her mother. And then she told me hertroubles, poor thing, and I found her in heart and mind a sort ofinexperienced child. She has had a lover for two years; an enterprisingyoung man, who is superintendent of an iron mine some fifty milesdistant. It is the old story over again. I wish he had my grandfather'scourage and would run away with her. He has no title nor aristocraticblood, and the mother will not consent. But I had made up my mind beforeI went there, and even if I had been fancy free, I couldn't resignmyself to live in that old ruin. " "Oh, what will she do?" "I advised her to run away. " Herman Andersen laughed softly. "But Ithink I persuaded them both to come to the city and visit my father. They will find business isn't so shocking. They have lived in lonelinessuntil they know very little of the real world. The old castle is notworth saving. Then I went home, and after a good deal of talking havearranged my life in a way that is satisfactory to my father, and I hopewill be eminently so to myself. Some day I will tell you about that. Nowwhere shall we find the others?" and he rose. "Daisy is down here. " Hanny rose also; but she had a queer sort offeeling, as if the world was turning round. It seemed to Doctor Joe that he so rarely had a good talk with Daisynow, that he would make the most of this opportunity. Jim was alwayshovering about her. It was natural she should like the younger people. He was like a very much older brother. She was looking pale and tired. She could not stand continual dissipation. And while she often had abrilliant color and Hanny very little, the latter possessed by far themost endurance. She liked to be alone with Doctor Joe. There was something restful andinspiriting, as if she absorbed his generous, superabundant strength. So they almost forgot about Hanny, or thought her with the others. Andnow she came walking slowly down to them with a strange young man. "Why, who can it be?" in a tone of surprised inquiry. Daisy Jasper studied a moment. "Why, it looks like--no, it cannotbe--yes, it is Mr. Andersen. " "I thought he was in Germany. " Daisy looked puzzled. Then she sprang up with a quick colour and a smileof pleasure, stretching out both hands. "Oh, Miss Jasper!" and Mr. Andersen took her hands in a fervent clasp. "Do you know this is going to be a red-letter day in my life, --one ofthe happiest of days? Your mother sent me up here on a venture. First, Ifound Miss Underhill, and now you. And one might go all over the worldand miss one's best friends. Ah, Dr. Underhill!" A curious shock went over Dr. Underhill. He had to compel himself totake the outstretched hand. For what had this young man "crossed theseas?" He was not going to marry the cousin. "But when did you come?" inquired Daisy. It was odd, but he took theseat the other side of her, and Hanny was by Joe. Then Mr. Andersen told his voyage all over again, and that he had comefor good. He was to take his father's money share in the house here, andhis father's was to be transferred to Paris, where one of the elderlypartners was in failing health and wished to retire. "I am just delighted, " exclaimed Daisy, enthusiastically. "If you wouldonly come and board at our house! There are some people going away. Wouldn't it be splendid, Hanny?" Hanny assented with a smile. "I will see if I can find the others, " said the doctor, rising andlooking at his watch. "Father was to drive up with the Surrey athalf-past five. Don't go away from here. " He walked slowly, looking a few moments in every room. Yes--there wasCharles. He caught his eye and beckoned. The estrays soon rejoined the others. Then they went out to thesouthern entrance, and so along to the gateway. Yes, there was Mr. Underhill. He would take the four girls, and onemore, as he had a team. This was decided to be Mr. Andersen, as he wasto go to the Jaspers' to tea. The others would ride down in the stage. The doctor said he must make a few calls. Mr. Beekman expressed hisintention of coming up in the evening, as Miss Odell was going to stay;and Miss Odell's eyes shone with delight. Daisy having a lover! Dr. Underhill had not felt alarmed about Jim'sattentions, he had so many fancies. But this young man-- Would it be best or wise for Daisy to marry? She appeared quite well, but she was not strong, and there was a remnant of the old spinaltrouble that came out now and then in excruciating nervous headaches. Somehow she had seemed his especial property since she had cried in hisarms with all the pain and suffering, and he had encouraged her to bearthe little more. He had meant always to stand her friend. It wasn'tlikely he would marry, for he had seen no one yet that he wanted. But ifthis child went out of his life! For, alas! the child had grown towomanhood. CHAPTER XXI THE OLD, OLD STORY, EVER NEW When Mr. Underhill took Polly home the next day, it was with thestipulation that she should come back and spend a week. Polly was wildwith delight, and packed up her best things. There were some othervisitors, --cousins of the elderly sort, --so the young people had theirown good times. Daisy and Mr. Andersen were in, and Charlie and they hadthe happy enjoyment of youth. Peter Beekman seemed devoted to them. Jim wouldn't be crowded out whereDaisy was concerned, but he wanted to be first with her. Mr. Andersengave way generously, and went over to Hanny, who somehow clung to Polly. There was a good deal of business to be done for Mr. Herman Andersen. His father's share in the New York firm was to be transferred to him, asat the age of twenty-five he had come into possession of his mother'sfortune, that had been accumulating. His father was to take charge ofthe Paris house. He spent some hours every morning with Mr. Jasper, acquiring a knowledge of his new duties; but the afternoons were forpleasure, until the autumnal business stirred up. "I do wish young Beekman wouldn't come over here so much, " Mrs. Underhill said in a fretted tone, "or that he would take a real fancy toPolly. " "They are just having a young people's good time, " returned Joe. "Polly's a nice girl. He might do worse. " "But I am afraid it is not Polly. He watches Hanny like a cat watching amouse. " "Nonsense!" declared Joe. "But he does. And I don't like it. " "Oh, mother dear, you're a hen with one chick. If there is a rustle inthe leaves you think a hawk is going to pounce down. " "Hanny's too young to have lovers. " She tried to keep her face in severelines. "Hanny isn't thinking about lovers. And Peter is a fine, solid fellow, who is going to make his mark, and who may be a sort of ballast to Jim. I like him. " "Oh, he is well enough. But if there was any fuss it might annoy Dolly. And we have always been so cordial; Margaret was married too young. " "And you were married too young. Now, if you had waited and done withoutSteve and me, and begun with John--" There was a twinkle in Doctor Joe's eye. "I should have begun with the most sensible son, " returned his mother;but she could not keep her voice sharp. "Well, I will look after Hanny and the young man. I think myself that wedon't need any more lovers right away. " She knew she could depend on him. Then they had some anxiety at Ben's, and Delia's mother was away. AuntBoudinot had her third stroke, and lay insensible for several days, thenslipped out of life. Mrs. Underhill was quite surprised with Delia'sgood sense, as she called it, and really she wasn't such a badhousekeeper for a girl with no training. There was the funeral, with some of New York's oldest families. Afterward the will was read. Aunt Patty had made a new one on the deathof her sister. There was a small legacy to the niece who had married; a remembrance toseveral relatives and friends. The use of the house was to be Mrs. Whitney's while she lived; at her death to be sold and divided betweenher niece, Delia Whitney, and her grand-niece, Eleanora Whitney. And toDelia Whitney, if she took faithful care of her until her death, the sumof five thousand dollars in bank-stock. She had taken faithful care of her, and would have done it out of thekindness of her heart without any reward. "I thought it might be a thousand dollars, " she said to Ben, "and I madeup my mind if it should be that, we would take it and go abroad. I hadsome savings beside. When Bayard Taylor told us about his tour I feltsure we could do something like it. We would keep out of the expensivetourists' ways, and live cheaply, keeping house when we could. Oh, Ben, won't it be splendid!" He thought it splendid to have her so generous, but he had some savingsas well. Five thousand dollars was considered quite a legacy in those days; andthe bank-stock was worth a good deal more than its face. Every one said they would be crazy to waste their money in such afrivolous manner. "I don't mind if I shouldn't ever be rich, " declared Ben. "I want apiece of the big world, with its knowledges and wonders. I shouldn'tcare to live there always, but it broadens one to see what other nationshave done; what has made their greatness and what has contributed totheir downfall. And the arts and sciences, the mysteries of the East andof Egypt. We are young yet as a country, and we have a right to gatherup the riches of experience. I only hope we shall profit by it. " So they planned and planned. Delia looked over the old things, and sentDolly and Hanny some antiquities of a century or more. Then she packedand boxed hers, for she knew her mother might deal them out toindifferent people. She thought it would be a good plan to hire out thehouse to some one who would board her mother and Theodore; and presentlyone of the married sisters, Mrs. Ferris, decided she would come. So thenthey could plan to go away; and Delia might write her novel while shewas abroad. Meanwhile the summer was slipping away like a dream. The great fairstill attracted a large concourse. But September came in, and schoolsopened. Jim went back to regular study; Charles to the seminary. Hannyhad some more schoolmates married. There was another baby at Margaret's;and it was so delightful to go down to Delia's and hear all the plans!Now that Hanny had learned so much at the Crystal Palace, she had quitea longing for churches and museums and art galleries. Herman Andersenhad visited so many of them! Sometimes Daisy Jasper went down with her. Mr. Andersen came for them inthe evening. Delia he thought wonderfully bright and entertaining. Benliked him amazingly. "But if I had all that money, " said Ben, "I wouldn't confine myself tosuch puttering stuff as silks and laces and India shawls; I should wantto do something high up and fine, like a magazine or a paper, that hadinfluence and scope. Some day I mean to own a share in a paper, whereyou have a chance to touch up public opinion. " Herman Andersen seemed very happy and content. Mr. Jasper said he wasgoing to make a fine, reliable business man. He really felt he wouldn'tobject to him for a son. Grandmother Van Kortlandt was growing more feeble, and now and then hada bad spell. Doctor Joe made light of it, and told her red lavender andaromatic hartshorn were good for old ladies. She seemed to want herdaughter near her. The young man who had alarmed Mrs. Underhill did notcome so frequently, so she began to feel quite safe. Oh, what a happy, happy summer it had been! The little girl was used toher long frocks, and studied ways of doing her hair, and practisedMendelssohn's "Songs without Words" because some one had said they werethe most beautiful things he had ever heard. She and Daisy and Mr. Andersen talked German, and had no end of fun. One afternoon Mr. Andersen came in. "Let us go up to the Crystal Palace, " he said. "It is the most gloriousafternoon imaginable. There is a sort of hazy red gold in the air, thatexhilarates one. You feel as if you could soar to heaven's gate. " "We haven't been up in almost a fortnight, " said Hanny, laughing. "The more need of our going now. I enjoy these superb days to the full. " Hanny went to get her hat. Grandmother generally took her nap early inthe afternoon. Mother was not in her own room, she saw, as she lookedin, so she ran on down. She was not in the kitchen either. "Joe, " she cried--there was no one in the office, and he sat with hislegs stretched out, and a book on the table beside him, looking verycomfortable, --"Joe, where is mother?" "Up with grandmother, dear. Don't disturb her. What did you want?" "Oh, nothing--only to say--we are going up to the fair. " "Very well; run along. You look as sweet as a pink. " A bright color flashed over her face, and settled in her dimple, makingit look like a rose as she smiled. She was putting on her blossom-coloured lace mitts as she entered theroom. Some one else thought she looked as sweet as a pink when he rose, and led the way. She turned down the street. "Oh, Daisy is not going, " he said. "She had a headache all the morning. You don't mind?" "Oh, no. Poor dear Daisy! And I didn't go in!" Her voice was touchedwith the sweetest regret and compassion. Doctor Joe went upstairs presently, to grandmother. "Her breathing is better, " he said. "I have tried a new remedy. When shehas had some sleep she will be all right. This isn't quite a normalstate yet. Call me if there is any special change. " Then he went down to the office again. People came more in the morningor the evening, and he had attended to his urgent calls. He was glad notto go out just then. But he thought of the young people on their way tothe palace of delight. Had he ever been young and joyous, as the youthof to-day? He had studied and worked, taught some, used up all his time, and had none for the passing vagaries. What made him feel old, and as ifsome of the rarest delights would pass him by? There was a light tap at the office-door, though it stood ajar. He roseand opened it wider. "Why, Daisy Jasper!" he cried in amazement. "Or is it your wraith? Ithought you had gone to the fair with Hanny. " She had been very pale; now she flushed a little. There was atremulousness about her, and shadows under her eyes. "I had a headache all the morning; most of the night as well. It hasgone off somewhat, but I didn't feel well enough for that. " "No, of course not. " He led her to the pretty library, that was alwayshaving a picture or a set of books added. You couldn't put in any moreeasy-chairs. He placed her in one. As he touched her hand, he felt thefeverish tremble. "My dear child, what is it?" Her eyes drooped, and tears beaded the lashes. "You shouldn't have come out. Why did you not send for me?" "I--I wanted to come. I knew Hanny would be gone. I wanted to see you. "She was strangely embarrassed. He was standing by the side of the chair and took her hand again. Howlimp and lifeless it seemed! "I wanted to see you--to ask you, to tell you--oh, how shall I sayit!--if you could help me a little. You are so wise, and can think of somany ways--and I am so afraid he loves me--it would not be right--" Yes, that was it. This bright, charming, well-bred, fortunate youngfellow loved her. He could keep her like a little queen. And she hadsome conscientious scruple about her health, and her trifling lameness, and all. A word from him would keep her where she was. He had carriedher in his arms, his little ewe lamb. No man could ever give her theexquisite care that he would be able to bestow. Oh, could he let any onetake her out of his life! Yet some one younger and richer loved her. Yes, he _must_ stand aside. "My child, "--he would be grave and fatherly, --"I think you are makingyourself needless trouble. Why should you refuse a good man's love? Youhave your beauty, and a gift that is really a genius, and though you maynot be as strong as some women, that is no reason why you should denyyourself the choicest blessing of a woman's life. " "But"--she gave a little sob--"I thought you might blame me for beingheedless. We have all been such friends. And I don't want anything tomar the perfect pleasantness. I know it is not right because--how can Imake you understand! It might wound you if I said it--I think it cannever be that kind of love--" Did he hear aright, or was it some subtle temptation? "You, of all other women, should be careful not to make a mistake. Itwould mean more to you afterward--if matters went a little wrong. " "And he is so gay, so full of life and fun, and always wanting one tokeep up to the highest pitch. It would not be the right thing for him. " "But he is very gentle as well. " "Dr. Underhill, tell me that it isn't the right step for me to take, _ever_, " Daisy said decisively. "I cannot tell you any such thing. I will not bar you out of anyhappiness. " Perhaps he really approved of it. They were all in a way proud of theyounger brother. And Jim thought there was no such splendid man in theworld as the doctor. Oh, if she only knew! She was heroic enough toplease them all for the sake of the past and present friendship. But shehad a doubt of Mrs. Underhill's approval. She might give in as she hadto Delia; and now she had really begun to find virtues in Ben's wife. But with Jim's brilliant nature always on the alert for amusement, she, Daisy, would be worn out trying to keep up to his standard. She rose slowly. "I ought not have come, " she began in a despondenttone. "I thought I could talk it all over with you; but I must decide, and bear the pain. You may all feel hurt, even if you acknowledge thewisdom of my decision. It would be a delight to come and live with youall; I who have had no brothers or sisters. But I think Jim will soonget over it, especially if _you_ point out the unwisdom of it all. Maybeyou will take me back into favour then, when the soreness is spent. " "Jim, " he repeated, in a vague, absent sort of way. "Jim! Who are youtalking about, Daisy?" Her face was scarlet, and her eyes full of tears. "Your brother James. It is a shame, I know, to betray one man's inmostsecrets to another. But I am quite sure that I ought not, that I cannot, marry him. Oh, will you all forgive me, and help him to forget all butthe friendship?" She took a step toward the door. The scarlet went out of her face, andshe swayed as if her strength was all gone. He caught her, and put herback in the chair. "Jim!" now in a tone of great surprise, and giving a little incredulouslaugh. "Why, I thought it was Herman Andersen. " Joe's heart seemed suddenly to enlarge and fill his whole body. Therewas a ringing in his ears, as of joy-bells. "Herman Andersen!" she said composedly. "Oh, have you all been blind?Why, he is in love with Hanny! He came back to America to win her, andhe will if he serves seven years. " Doctor Joe looked at her in amaze. Ah, yes, they had been blind. Theyhad fenced out young Peter Beckman, and opened the door wide to thisunsuspected lover. And he knew as well as it Hanny had confessed it, that her heart had gone to meet his on the magic sea of love, and theywould come into port no longer twain, but one. He sat down on the broad arm of the chair. He could see Daisy's longagitated breaths quiver through her body; and she looked tired andspent. Poor little girl! "No, I had never thought of Jim, " he began gravely, "because he is sofond of girls; a general worshipper. Not but what he might be very trueand devoted to one. He seems so young yet. Daisy, "--his voicefell, --"did he ask you--" Her head drooped a little, and her shining curls hid her face. "Oh, do believe that when I thought of it first I did try to evade, to--to laugh him out of it. That was a month ago. He kept saying littlethings I would not heed or seem to understand. It has been such a gay, happy summer for us all! And there was Charlie's engagement. Lastevening mamma and papa had gone out to call on a friend, and we werequite alone--" How much was volatile temperament and the love of pursuit, and how muchthe deeper regard? Let him do his young brother justice. "Charlie is young, to be sure, but he is a very steady-minded fellow, and his mother's and Tudie's death brought them together in a verysympathetic manner. Then Charles is about certain of a good position. Jim has his fortune all to make. And you are right about some otherqualities. Herman Andersen would be a much better companion for you. Jimis strong and energetic, full of life, and will always be among the busybustling things, and deep in excitements. He would wear you out. " "And don't you see that when he is five or six and twenty he will needsomething better than an invalid wife, who might have to go to bed witha headache when he was giving an important dinner, or having a brilliantsort of evening with some stylish guests? He ought to have a wifesomething like Mrs. Hoffman, who would help him to the finest things oflife. And though I seem well, I shall never be real strong; and I do notcare for grand society. I like a good deal of quiet and ease, and justeveryday living, a little painting when I feel inspired, a littlereading and talks with friends, and old-fashioned music. I sometimesfeel as if I was an old girl, and ought to have lived a century ago. Perhaps I shall make a queer, stuffy old woman. And--I ought not tomarry. " "You shall not give up the divine right, " he made answer, earnestly. "Oh, I have a pretty face just now, and people, I find, _do_ admirebeauty. But that will fade. " Then she sprang up suddenly, parted herlong ringlets, and stood with her back to him. "See, " and her voicetrembled, he knew there were tears in her eyes, "I have a little crookin my back, and one high shoulder. There has to be half an inch of corkin one boot-sole to keep me straight and from limping. No, I shouldn'tdo for a handsome young man like Jim, for I may grow lamer and crookederas I grow older; nor for any man, although you try to comfort me with analmost divine compassion. " She was sobbing in his arms then. It was not the first time she had weptout her sorrow there. He raised the golden head a little, and kissed down amid the passionatetears that were sweeping away a kind of regret that sometimes hauntedher. He had kissed her often as a little child, but rarely since herreturn from abroad. Her girlhood had been a quality fine and rare andsacred to him. "Except the one man who has always loved you from the poor little childin her pitiful pain and anguish, and the little girl who began to takecourage and face the world, the larger girl who was brave andsunny-hearted, and looked out with hopeful eyes on the world that had somany blessings. And he knows now that no skill can ever shut out allsuffering; but his sympathy and tender affection will help her throughyears that may be weary and sorrowful, and endure with her whateverburden comes, make her pathway easy and pleasant and restful. " "Oh, you must not, " she cried, with a pang of renunciation. "Whateverapplies to another man applies with double force to you. You are sonoble, so tender; so worthy of what is best in life! And you have tocarry so many burdens for other people that you must have some one braveand strong and full of energy and in perfect health--" "The woman I love will be better than all this to me, " he returned, witha sweetness in his voice that went to her very heart, and brought thetears to her eyes again. Then he dropped down in the great chair andtook her gently in his arms, and he knew his case was as good as won. "When you were a little girl you once said to Hanny if you could have abrother out of the clan you would like it to be me. And for days thequaint, generous little soul could hardly resolve whether it was not herduty to give me away. Then don't you remember you both planned to comeand keep my bachelor-home? Some one else will take her. And we willwait, dear. We will go on in the same friendly, kindly fashion. You mustrun in and out and come to me with your headaches and perplexities, andI shall scold you a little and give you a bitter tonic; and wheneverything is just right I shall ask you to marry me; but all the time Ishall be loving you so much that it will be impossible for you to refuseme. So you know what is in store, and no one need trouble about thefuture. You are not engaged, you are quite free; and, like Ben, I willwait seven years or twenty years for you. But I think you never canbelong to any one else. " Ah, what delightful security! "Dear, dear Doctor Joe. Oh, it would be too much happiness! No, I oughtnot; mamma thinks I ought not to marry. And, " raising her head andshowing a face full of scarlet flushes and tears, and eyes shining withlove's own light, "it looks just as if I had come in here and reallyasked you to marry me. We have forgotten all about poor Jim. You willthink me a coquette, and you ought to despise me. " His clasp tightened a little. "I am sorry that Jim should have been so heedless. Perhaps it will bebetter to let him learn how much in earnest you are with your refusal. It may not be flattering to a young girl to think a man will forgether. " "But I want him to forget that part, " she interrupted eagerly. "I think he will. And if he comes to me for comfort, I will try to be awise father-confessor. And yet I can't help pitying the man a little whowill lose you. Only in this case it would be like having an exoticwithout a conservatory, and not quite knowing how to build one. " "Joseph!" his mother called from upstairs. Daisy sprang up and smoothed her ruffled plumes, Joe gave her one long, dear kiss, and she flashed out of the little room. She held her head very high. It was the most splendid thing that couldhappen to a girl; but she was not going to spoil her dear Doctor Joe'slife. Are there days that the Lord of all the earth has created for love? Somedays seem made especially for sorrow. But this had such an exquisiteserenity brooding in the air. It was not late enough to have any regretsfor the passing of summer, and oh, what a summer it had been! "Do you really want to go up to the fair?" Herman Andersen had asked, when they reached the corner. "Why, --" Hanny hesitated, --"we have seen it a good many times, " and shegave her soft, rippling laugh. "Let us go over to Tompkin's Square. " He had something to say to herthat would be easier said in those deserted walks. You could always findthem except on Saturday or Sunday. "Very well, " with her graceful assent. The birds, done with their summer housekeeping and child-rearing, hadtime to sing again. But it was all low, plaintive songs, as if theysaid: "We must go away from the place in which we have been so happy. Will we be sure to come another spring?" Now and then a branch stirred. The grass had been cut for the last time, and there were sweet littlewinrows that filled the air with fragrance. He was quiet, for he likedto hear her enchanting talk. It had turned upon when she was a littlegirl, and how queer things were! It didn't seem as if everything couldchange so. And what a great gay time they had at the Beekmans' whenStephen was married! So they walked around, and were at an entrance. Acabman put down a woman and some children just as Mr. Andersen had said, "We were going up there some day, you know; we ought to go beforeeverything has faded. " "Yes, " she made answer. "See here, we might get this cab and go up now"--looking up with eagerinquiry. Dickens had not created Mr. Wemmick with his delightful off-handpremeditated happenings; but other people had them even then. She made no demur, but assented with her innocent eyes full of exquisitesweetness. He helped her in and sat along side of her. He had all kinds of younglover-like thoughts, and really he so seldom had her alone. He wanted tosnatch up the hand and kiss it. It made such a tempting background forthe lace mitt. No one but old ladies wore gloves, except on very fineoccasions. And her slim little fingers, with their pink nails, were sopretty! If he could even hold her hand! But they jolted over rough streets, through little clumps of Irishvillages, and laughed over the pigs, and geese, and children. Thenwastes again, with long, straight lines where streets were to be. "That is the house over there, " she said. "I wonder if you could walk back? Or shall I keep the cab?" "Oh, no. It is so delightful to walk!" Ah, how the hand of improvement had disfigured everything! leaving ugly, square, naked blocks, with here and there a house, then a space wherethe trees were still standing; but the children despoiled the lilacs anddogwood in the spring, and thrashed the lindens and black walnuts allthe later summer, until the poor things had a weary, drooping aspect. Over here was the great garden, and a street ran through it. The oldhouse was shabby, and needed painting; and most of the vines had beencut away. The steps were broken. Several families inhabited it now. Thecousin had thrown it up in disgust. But the young man saw it through her eyes, glorified with the glamour ofchildhood. Slim young Dolly, Aunt Gitty netting, the ladies inrocking-chairs with their sewing under the trees, Mr. Beckman andKatschina, and the tea on little tables; and the boys she was afraid of. "They were such pudgy little boys, " she says, with a laugh in whichthere is only a remembered mirth. "They were like some of Irving'sdescriptions. You wouldn't expect them to grow up into such fine-lookingmen, now, would you? I think Peter is almost handsome. " It gives him a little twinge. He was jealous of Peter awhile ago; but headmits bravely that Peter is very good-looking. And here are some poor willows. Oh, the lovely shrubbery that isneglected and dying! "After all, it _is_ the people who give the charm to places, --the lovingcare, the home delight. But no one could keep it up. Property gets toovaluable, and taxation is too high; and there are so many poorer peoplewho must have homes. " These sententious bits of wisdom he considers utterly charming. She hascaught them from John. Then they sit down on a great stone and rest, though she protests she isnot tired. She can walk for hours. Now he ought to tell her all that is in his heart. If the world standsthousands of years there will never be such a golden opportunity again. She breaks off a bit of yarrow and sticks it in her belt. Howbeautifully the lashes droop over her eyes, deepening and softening thetint, until it looks like a glint of heaven! "Oh, we ought to go on, " she says presently; and with a dainty smile andmotion, she rises. Ah, if she knew what he is wild to utter! They turn their steps homeward. A wood-robin in a thicket sings, "Sweet, sweet, I love you, I l-o-v-e you, " with a maddening, lingeringcadence. Why is he not as brave as the bird? Are there any choicer, moreexquisite words in which to say it? They come to a little stream. "Oh, just down here is Kissing Bridge, "she says, with a kind of girlish gleefulness. She had made her father tell the old Dutch story one evening, when theywere all sitting on the stoop. And as they go on, she, with a sort ofeager, heedless step, as if she was not walking on his heart, tellsabout Stephen, and how he jumped out of the carriage and gathered agreat bunch of roses for her. They have reached the spot. The stream hasshrunken. You could step over it. "They were just there. " She indicates the spot with a pretty gesture ofher head. "But there are no wild-roses now;" and a soft sigh escapesher, as she turns to him, and their eyes meet. "Are there none?" he asks, his eyes drinking in the sudden radiance. Forif ever dainty, delicate, ethereal wild-roses bloomed, they are in hercheeks; and oh, what are her scarlet lips that have meant to answer, andare mysteriously tranfixed with the rarest sweetness! He kisses her--once, a dozen times. There is no one near. They own thecity, --the whole world, for love is Lord of all. He slips her hand in his arm. Its tremble thrills every nerve in hisbody. He experiences the overwhelming joy of possessorship, for she _is_his. "My darling little Nan;" and his voice is unsteady with emotion. He has rechristened Baby Stevie's pet name; but it has never sounded soenchanting before. Then they walk on in delicious silence. Another bird sings in a drowsyafternoon tone, -- "Sweet, sweet, I love you, I l-o-v-e you. " They glance at each other, and both translate it. Her cheeks are redderthan wild-roses now; and her dimple holds the sweetness of a greatmystery. They both smile, and he kisses her again. Why not? There is noone about. "My darling, can you guess when I first began to love you?" He wants herto know all the story. It seems as if his whole life will not be longenough to get it told and he must begin at once. "When?" There is a startled sound in her voice, as if she was amazedthat love had a beginning. "That night in the dance, --the Spanish dance. We will go somewhere thiswinter and dance it over again; and the music beats will say--'I loveyou. '" "Oh, so long ago?" she exclaims. "Yes; and I have a visiting-card of yours. " He hunts in his card-case. "Here it is--'Miss Nan Underhill. ' I've kissed it thousands of times. Ihave almost worn it out. And when I went home I told my father about thelittle girl in New York that I must come back and win. " "Oh, did you!" She is touched by the revelation. "He is a delightful father. Some time I must take you over to see him, or he may come here. But he had promised that I should go to Ebberfeld;and so I did. The aunt had proposed the match. " "And your poor cousin!" Her voice is full of such infinite pity that hegives the little hand a tender pressure for thanks. "I couldn't have loved her anyhow. She seems older than I; and I am avery boy in heart. Then she was too large. I like little women. " "I am so glad, " she cries, with unaffected joy, "for I am small; and Inever can grow any larger. But I don't mind now. " "So when my father found how much in earnest I was, he planned thebusiness change. It was my own mother's money, you know. But he has beena good father to me, and I am glad he has some other children. I was togo to Paris. " That seems so magnificent she is almost conscience smitten. Ah, how much there is to say! "But you will get tired with all this long walk, " he exclaims anxiously. Oh, blessed thought! he will have the right to keep her rested andhappy, and in a realm of joy. "Oh, no, " she returns. "Why, the walk has not seemed long. " The surprisein her voice is enchanting. Is any walk ever too long for love? Is any day too long, --even all oflife? The crickets and peeps come out; a locust drones his slow tune. The sunhas dropped down. Well, they are in an enchanted country that needs nosun but that of love. And if they walked all night they could not sayall that has been brought to light by the mighty touch that wakes humansouls. At home grandmother's difficult breathing has returned, and they havehad a troubled hour. But now she is all right, except that she will beweaker to-morrow. Mrs. Underhill goes downstairs and bustles about thesupper as a relief from the strain. She makes a slice ofdelicately-browned toast. Joe comes rushing in. "I'm sorry, but the servant at the Dentons has cut her hand badly. Don'twait supper for me, " he exclaims. "Jim has not come in, and no one can tell when those children will beback. If the fair should keep open three months longer every one will bedead with fatigue. Yes, we'll wait. I am going to take some toast up tomother. " "The children!" Doctor Joe has a strange, guilty sort of feeling. Whatif to-night should bring her a new son, as some future night will bringher a new daughter? Father Underhill sits on the front stoop reading his paper. He glancesup now and then. When he espies a small figure in soft gray with awide-brimmed leghorn hat, and a young man, he studies them moreattentively. What is this? She has the young man's arm, --that has goneout of date for engaged people, --and her head inclines toward him. Sheglances up and smiles. And then a great pang rends the father's soul. They come nearer, and shesmiles to him; but, oh! there is a light in her face, a gladness shiningin her eyes, a tremulous sweetness about the mouth. Did he read all thisin her mother's face years and years ago? Did _her_ mother have thisawful pang that seems to wrench body and soul asunder? They say good-evening and that it has been a glorious afternoon. Theyoung man will lose no time, --hasn't he been dangling three monthsalready? "Mr. Underhill, may I see you a moment?" How brave and sweet and assured the voice is! And he helps the littlegirl up the steps, through the hall space, and the three stand in theparlour, where the young man prefers his request with such a daring thatthe elder man is almost dazed. Then the father holds out his arms as ifhe was grasping for something lost. She comes to them, and her head ison his breast, her hands reaching up to clasp him about the neck. "And this little girl, too!" His voice is broken, his face goes down to hers. The sweetest thing ofhis life, --how can he give her up? "Oh, father, father!" The cry is so entreating, so piteous, and he feelsthe tears on her sweet face. "Oh, father, can I not love you both?" She loosens one hand and holds it out to the young man. He feels themotion, and accepts the fact that her heart is divided. She draws herlover in the circle. "You will love him for my sake. " Alas! alas! she is his little girl no longer. She is another man'ssweetheart, and will one day be his wife. It is the fashion in thisworld; it has God's favor and sanction. CHAPTER XXII 1897 All that was long ago. It is nearing the end of the century, and thelittle girl who thought it a great thing to see the half-century mark, bids fair to shake hands with the new one. There have been many changes, there have been sorrows and deaths, and such exquisite satisfyinghappiness that she could say with the poet, -- "Let come what come may I shall have had my day. " She is in the older generation now, and a grandmother. You may see herin Central Park, or some of the surburban places, a fair, sweet smallpersonage, with a face more nearly beautiful than in her girlhood. Herhair has that shining silvery tint, her complexion is clear and fine, and her eyes, though they have wept bitter tears, still look out gladly, serenely, on life. In the carriage will be her twin granddaughters, and sometimes a youngman, her son. They are pretty children, and will be "summer girls" whentheir time comes, and "winter girls" as well, clad in cloth and velvetand furs. They will dance Germans instead of the bewildering Spanishdance she had that first night with her lover. Even children havechanged in half a century. Beauty is no longer considered a delusion anda snare. Physical culture gives strength and grace and growth. The lover of her youth and the husband of her love, and her first-borndaughter, who was wedded, and who with her husband faced a railroadtragedy and were its victims, have gone into that "goodly land andlarge. " It seems to many of us as we grow older that there is only athin wall between this and the other country where we shall see themagain. Sometimes she can almost fancy them leaning over the jasperwalls, like the Blessed Damosel, and smiling down on her. There are somany of them now! And the children were given to her. They are spoiled, all the aunts and cousins declare. But grandmamma lives another youthover in them, --a delightful life, rich in love and interest. For conditions have changed. The world, and all that therein is, haschanged. It is Greater New York now, and it stretches out everywhere. What was Brooklyn, and Williamsburg, and many a pretty town up above thecity, have all been merged into one grand metropolis. What it will do inthe next fifty years passes conjecture. As they drive around nothing interests them more than to have grandmammatalk of what it was like when she was a little girl. They find theplaces, and look at them through her eyes. There is no longer anyBowling-Green, only in name, and though part of the Battery is left, theelevated roads go winding about among the tree-tops; Castle Garden, after many vicissitudes and debasements, is again a place of interestand entertainment. Here was where she heard that sweet and wonderfulJenny Lind, who, with Parepa Rosa, and many another divine voice, issinging up in the New Jerusalem. And though hundreds in the glare oflight and blaze of diamonds listen to Patti, she wonders if theenthusiasm is as deep and sincere. Over opposite where modest Brooklyn lived its simple, friendly lifefifty years ago, stretching out into country ways and green fields, there are miles of houses, and the great bridge is such an everydayaffair one hardly gives it a second thought. And all is business now, with tall buildings that the glance can hardly reach. There is no CityHall Park, but a great space of flagging, though the fountain remains. Business crowds hurry to and fro where ladies used to sit and chat whilethe young people strolled about. Stewart's old marble building is common-place and dingy. Delmonico hasgone on up-town stride by stride, and people have forgotten the oldbalcony where Jenny Lind sang, and Koenig played to a street packed withpeople. And the Prince de Joinville was here; also Louis Napoleon, thenephew of his uncle, who followed his steps as Emperor and loser ofcrown and all, and exile. And the young Prince Imperial, whose birth, solong desired and celebrated with state as was that of the young King ofRome, met with as melancholy a fate and early death as the Duc deReichstadt. And here the young Prince of Wales dined. He came downBroadway with his suite and procession, and the little wife thought it afine sight as she stood there to see. Broadway stretches on and on. Union Square is really a thoroughfare; butshe came up here with father and the boys when it was a grand new thing. Did she really live in First Street with Aunt Daisy for a playmate, andAuntie Reed, and Nora, who was a much admired singer in her day, and whomarried a Roman Count; and the little Tudie who died? Did she have thatsplendid Christmas and the beautiful wax doll, that seems sacredly aliveto them both; only under some spell of enchantment laid upon her byMerlin's clan? Oh, how full the streets are now with their great high tenement-houses, pouring out their myriads of children all day long, of everynationality! But you still hear the old plays, "Open the Gates, " and"Scotland's Burning, " and "Uncle John is very Sick, " and "Ring around aRosy. " Little Sally Waters still sits in the sun, -- "Crying and sighing for a young man, " though modern poesy advises her to-- "Rise, Sally, rise, Wipe your eyes out with your frock. " And the strange Chinatown, with its cabalistic signs, its men in blueshirts and pigtails, and often snowy white stockings and queer pointedslippers! They wind slowly about Central Park. Was the Crystal Palace here? And nopark? To them it seems as if New York must have been born this way, withelectric lights, and push-buttons, and telephones, and cars, andtelegraphs, and everything. And did grandmamma come up here to the Fair;and was it anything like the Museum of Art? And wasn't there anymenagerie, or playground, or donkey-riding or bicyclers? Here is Washington Arch, with its memory of a great anniversary. Over onthe west side there is a curious spot fenced in with wooden palings, where Alexander Hamilton planted thirteen trees for the Union, whenthere were only thirteen States, and named them all. Even before his saddeath, South Carolina was braced to keep her from growing crooked; butshe went awry in spite of it all. They have moved the house in which helived, across the street, to save it from destruction; and it is in theshadow of a church. And here is the old mansion where Aaron Burr lived abrief while with Madame Jumel for his wedded wife, --a beautiful oldplace on a hill. They go on up to the grand Washington Bridge. They are very fond of thestory of Anthony Woolf swimming across the Harlem that dark night to getaway from the Hessian regiment, and begging shelter of kindly hearts. They turn into a shaded road, and pass by lovely grounds, where wealthhas made gardens and terraces akin to those of Paradise. And windingdown the old road leading to the vale, they find a little dark-eyed girlwhose great-great-grandfather was this same Anthony Woolf. And theRevolutionary War was a century and a quarter ago! Here they have livedfor generations. The Cousin Jennie has gone, but the tall bright-eyedman who married her is still hale and hearty, with snowy hair and beard. Yes, it is all New York up to Kingsbridge. There are many historicspots, and several old manor houses still standing. But it has a cityaspect in spite of some wildness. They go around to Fordham; the oldhouse perched on the hill is there, though it has been enlarged, and thestreet widened and straightened. Up on the old porch grandmamma sat andread; and it still hangs out with a tempting aspect, just as when shewatched the pedestrians and the reverend fathers, who yet go up anddown. And here is the little old Poe Cottage, about which such a flavorof romance lingers, though the place has been modernised into a"Terrace, " and built about with city pretentiousness. It is still thesame little low place, not a bit changed since she sat there on thedoor-sill and talked over her heroes with the poet. She can still seethe tall spare figure of Mrs. Clemm in her rocking-chair doing her bitof mending and casting anxious glances at the son of her love, aboutwhom so much has been written in later days. People still quote the"Raven" and "Ullalume, " but all she cares to remember is "Annabel Lee, "and the weird stories are not to her taste. The old Odell house at West Farms was swept away long ago; Janey is agrandmother on a big farm that is crowded with summer boarders. Pollyis in Oregon, her sons coming up with the country. And up a shortdistance, Jerome Park used to be thronged by the beauty and fashion ofthe city on racing days. And that has gone, too. A little to the eastward is the beautiful Bronx Park, that is going totread closely on its down-town rival. Oh, is Central Park reallydown-town? There are woods and wilds, ravines and the leisurely stream, trees that have been brought from everywhere, walks and drives, hillsclothed with verdure, and the old Lorillard mansion still grand, withits legend of love and tragedy. Its gardens have changed indeed. Grandmamma remembers the small old man, who used to gather his roseleaves day by day from the fragrant beds, --Lorillard's rose-snuff was agreat thing two generations ago. "Did they really take snuff?" asks Ethel, in disgust. "How queer!" "And you know, " says Rose, "that Uncle Herman told us of a man whodeclined to take snuff, because if nature had intended his nose for adust-pan, she would have put it the other side up. " How they both laugh at that! They have a governess friend at home, but they are continually pickingup knowledge in their rides and rambles about. They know the old citythat was afraid to stray above Union Square, they know the modern citywith its fifty years of improvements, and they will grow up to womanhoodin Greater New York, the Star City of the Continent. Here in one of the pleasant streets overlooking the park, they live. They are not rich; no one is now who doesn't go up in the millions. There is a pretty house looking like a hotel, an apartment house, --verymoderate since it only accommodates three families. Joseph, the eldestson, who should have been a doctor, but is a fine architect, is married, and with his wife and two babies, and a dear friend who is an artist, has one side, and the other is grandmamma's. It is quite like a house bythemselves, only there is a beautiful square hall, and a handsomestairway one could hardly have space for in a small house. Herman, thesecond son, lives with them, and is a scientist, and wields the pen of aready writer. He has no taste for the toil and moil of money-getting, --arefined, studious, thoughtful young man. They have all had their share of happiness. Dolly and Stephen are reallyold people, and have a flock of grandchildren. Hanny can see her ownfather again in Stephen, and Dolly, since she has grown stout andwhite-haired, suggests her mother. Stephen's sons are promising youngbusiness-men. There is only one little grave marking their prosperouspathway, --a baby girl, who went so soon they have hardly missed her. Margaret is still handsome and aristocratic. Dr. Hoffman long ago gaveup practice, his property interests increased so rapidly. Their sons anddaughters are of the higher society order, intellectual, fine and noble, and a power in the land. One daughter has married an Englishman ofrank, the other is the wife of a Bishop. Margaret is serene andsatisfied, and still very fond of her little sister. Dear Doctor Joe lectures mostly, and attends to hospital surgery, stillkeeping his tender sympathy for suffering humanity. After GrandmotherVan Kortlandt went away, he brought Daisy Jasper home, to help fill thevacant spaces. And presently, when Mrs. Jasper was left alone, she came, too, the house being so large. Two mothers-in-law, according to therules of family lore, ought to have quarrelled and sulked, but theydidn't. And the babies that came were a source of delight. Though therewas suffering in Daisy's life, there was so much joy that, to her, itwas the unalloyed delight of living. And Jim outgrew his fancy, and had many another one that did not strikedeep enough in the soil to lead him to ask a woman to marry him. But heand Daisy were fast friends, and he saw that no one could ever havecared for her as well and wisely as dear Doctor Joe, with his wonderfultenderness. Jim, brilliant and gay and witty, was a fine, fluent speaker, studyingsuch eloquent models as Webster and Choate, and the vanished Clay. DidHanny remember, when they had lost his election, and he, Jim, had turnedout with the Democratic boys? There are grave questions now, on widerthan party lines, and sometimes the hearts of thoughtful statesmen beatwith an undefined fear. The fun-loving, dancing side of his nature often asserts itself. Womenadore him. Though he is not rich, the mothers smile on him for the"promise yet to be. " Even Lily Williamson tries her arts; admiration iswhat she lives for now. She is one of the handsome, fascinating societyvampires, who make great capital out of matrimonial infelicities, toappeal to the sympathies of really good and generous men, who are themore easily caught in the silken nets. One day she leaves her worthlessdrunken husband, when his money is all spent, and elopes with a youngfellow of excellent family who has just come into a fortune, and laterbecomes one of the adventuresses that disgrace Americans in the eyes ofEuropean propriety. Ben and Delia go abroad, --Ben in the interest of his paper, which isnext to his wife; Delia to write travel letters for a weekly, and findmaterial for her novel. It is quite a picnic, and they enjoy theeconomies. Then the clouds that have been gathering a long, long while, break overthe country, and all is tumult from end to end. The Seventh Regiment"boys" go down to Washington, with brave, laughing, high-hearted Jim, who understands that it is no child's play, but a bitter struggle thatwill call forth the best energies of the country, and who enlists for"three years or the whole war. " Ben hurries home, and takes his place inthe ranks. When things are at their lowest ebb, and men's hearts aresinking with fear, quiet, grave John buckles on a soldier's haversackand marches away. The others have substitutes. Ah, what times they were! It is well that flowers can spring up on abattlefield. The little girl keeps track of her heroes. Kearny, who hasseen Magenta and Solferino, meets his fate at Chantilly. Many anotherone who has come up to fame, many new ones, who are on the march to winor die. John is wounded, patched up in a hospital, and honorably discharged, lamed for life. But he has done good work. Ben has a slight mishap, andDelia sends her two babies and their nurse to her sister's, and goes tothe hospital, and remains. Women of brains and kindly impulses are muchneeded. And one night some wounded are brought in. There has been a fatefulreconnoisance, but it has saved the regiment from destruction on thenext day. This limp figure in a captain's uniform is laid tenderly on acot; but the surgeon, after a brief examination, shakes his head. Oh, surely, she knows that handsome face with the clustering dark curls! He opens his eyes, and after an instant says in a faint voice, "Oh, Dele, is that you?" then lapses into insensibility. There is nothing tobe done; that is the cruelest of all. Once again, after a long while, hemoves his head, and opens his eyes again, brave and clear even in death. "Delia, " in a strange, strong voice that surprises her, "kiss them allgood-night for me;" and James Odell Underhill has gone to the land ofeverlasting morning. The war ends; and Ben comes home none the worse. He has reached hisambition, and is a "newspaper man" in every sense of the word. Deliasets up housekeeping, takes home the babies, and in the course of timeadds two more to them. But there is another ferment, and women are coming to the fore. Thereare clubs and suffrage meetings, lectures; women have even invadedchurches, and preach; and colleges for higher education are springing upeverywhere. There are poets and philosophers, there are teachers andorators; some of them ill-judged, because they are fond of notoriety;but there are always some wry sheep in the best of flocks. Have menalways been honest and wise and honourable and grand? Delia lectures and writes, and is one of the able women of the day. Mrs. Hoffman on her serene heights _is_ mortified. Mother Underhill is sureBen has to go to a restaurant, that his stockings are never mended, hisbuttons always off. But patent buttons are invented, and collar-buttonsthat cannot be ironed off by the "washerwoman, " supply a long-felt want. Ben is stout and comfortable-looking, and the same grave, affectionatefellow. The children seem to come up without much sickness or trouble. When Mother Underhill feels disposed to cavil and criticise, for she_is_ shocked by the new woman's heresies, she recalls the "lastgood-night kiss, " and is silent. What if there had been no one at handto bring it home? Delia's girls grow up into "modern women. " It is true they do not spendhalf a day a week darning stockings, neither have they learned to putthe exquisite over and under darns in tablecloths that the little girlcould do by the time she was ten. But they sing and play; they are readyspeech-makers, and clubs are glad to get them. They know about Greekantiquities and Central American wonders; they can take up the questionsof the day intelligently; one paints really very well, and has enteredpictures at the Academy. One is interested in industrial schools forgirls, and the doctor, who is "Daisy Jasper, " a tall, bright, good-looking woman, has a big, tender heart for all babies who aresuffering, and trains many a poor mother how to care judiciously for heroffspring. But all the nieces think Aunt Nan just the loveliest and sweetest bodyin the world. They send her flowers and bric-à-brac; they beg her tocome here and there to receptions and charity bazaars, and reunions ofall sorts. She is so small and dainty, and they are all growing up tothe new stature. George has come home at last, after varying fortunes. He has seen SanFrancisco built and destroyed by fire, and rebuilt, and at last plannedinto a handsome city. He has mined and been in the wild life known onlyto the few remaining "forty-niners. " He has gained and lost, been burnedout and robbed, been one of the heads of a Vigilance Committee, andmayor of a town; and at last, when all is serene and prosperous, a greatwave of homesickness overtakes him. It is twenty years since he went away, though he has been home once inthe time. He is spare, and has a weather-beaten look, and is old for hisyears. Is the money worth all the sacrifice? He will build a house on their part of the old farm at Yonkers, wherehis heart has turned in many a weary hour; but Uncle Faid and Aunt Creteare dead. Barton Finch and Retty are living in town, and Barton is athriving manufacturer. Yonkers has stretched out; and the suburbs are inthat ugly transition state of new unworked streets and dingy cottages, for property has been cut up and lots sold cheaply. Father Underhill isoffered a great price for his, and sells it. It is no longer George'sideal home. Mrs. Eustis begs him to come up to Tarrytown. All the other Morgans aregone, and she is left alone. The place shall belong to George if he willgive her a home her few remaining years. He will not listen to this, but buys it, and builds on a new part. Thenhe marries a nice girl whose youth is past, and who is delighted withher kindly, indulgent husband. They have no children; but the nieces andnephews flock hither for rest and recreation, and are always fascinatedwith Uncle George's adventures. Delia is at middle life when she writes her book, but then it is noyoung girl's story with an imperious Rochester-like hero, that we usedto shiver over and adore. It is a serious, inspiriting woman's book, andcarries weight in spite of the flood of new literature. Charles Reed has followed a manly, pure, and high-minded Christiancourse, and left an impress on the hurrying world. Josie has grownbroader and more intelligent, and made a delightful household mother. There have been children enough to satisfy Grandmamma Reed. These old friends meet now and then, and talk as people will when theybegin to go down the decline on the other side of the hill that theyclimbed with such a light step and high heart. How simple life was thencompared with the ramifications of to-day! The old songs, the old poets, the old novelists are gone. "Jane Eyre" nolonger holds us spell-bound, though the three sisters in the bleak oldHaworth Rectory will never be forgotten; nor that strange "Rosemary, "and Huntingdon's "Lady Alice, " thought to be so unsettling to the faith. We read "Robert Elsmere, " and "John Ward, Preacher, " and go our waytranquilly. Education has become almost a synonym for genius. The gold of the Pacific Coast, the oil wells, the rich spoils of theearth, have been touched with the wand of industry and science. Railroads run to and fro; vessels dot the ocean; we cross it now in lessthan a week. Cables bring us hour-old news from everywhere. We go abroadfor seasons and touch elbows with royalty, and are not abashed. Wegather the beauty and wisdom of the old world. We build palaces, andspend on an evening's entertainment what would have been a fortune fiftyyears ago. We have private palace-cars, and luxurious yachts forpleasure, and others for speed, so swift that the "America's Cup" hasremained in our keeping all these years. Will we presently utter the old cry of the wise man who "gat himeverything, " "that all is vanity"? When the children are asleep the little grandmother goes down to herson's study. He is not ambitious for show or wealth, but he has a ratherluxurious side. The rugs are soft; the chairs are easy, the library isfilled with choice books. Sometimes she sits and reads, and brave oldThackeray is one of her favourites. It is as her lover said, --it takesyears and experience to see all the tender, hidden mysteries of his bestspeech. Then she puts aside her book, and he his work, and they talk. "What yourfather said" and "your father thought this way, " always has a charm forhim, and he misses his father more than any one can imagine. He knowsabout the trip to Germany, and the visit to grandfather, with Paris atits highest estate and the beautiful Empress Eugénie. And London withits Queen, who has reigned sixty years, and who, like his mother, hasmade part of the pilgrimage with a great sorrow buried in her heart. Some day he is going over it all; but he will not see the handsome, golden-haired empress, who is but a pale, sorrowful ghost, and perhapsnot the Queen. He would go to-morrow, if he could take the littlemother. They talk, too, of the future. There have been fifty magical years whenyou look back, --years of discovery, of perfection in art and invention, of nations making rapid strides, of Africa illumined by explorers, ofJapan coming to the front when hardly fifty years have elapsed since shefirst opened her gates to strangers. And of the great City that has gathered the little towns of children whowent out from her again in her arms, --will she be beautiful and grandand wise, and a power among men and cities? She has gathered heroes, living and dead, in her bosom, and for the greatest of all reared amarble temple. Oh, what will she be in fifty more years? "You may live to see it, " the little mother says, and smiles. For herself there is the other country, and the loves she holds mostdear. And because they go, when the worst sorrow is spent, one knowsthey will be found again, and that immortality is no myth, but the crownand seal of God's love to human love. THE END * * * * * The "Little Girl" Series By AMANDA M. DOUGLAS In Handsome Cloth Binding A Little Girl in Old New York A Little Girl of Long Ago A sequel to "A Little Girl in Old New York" A Little Girl in Old Boston A Little Girl in Old Philadelphia A Little Girl in Old Washington A Little Girl in Old New Orleans A Little Girl in Old Detroit A Little Girl in Old St Louis A little Girl in Old Chicago A Little Girl in Old San Francisco A Little Girl in Old Quebec A Little Girl in Old Baltimore A Little Girl in Old Salem A Little Girl in Old Pittsburg A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS52, 58 Duane Street New York