Medoline Selwyn's Work Part 34

"That is cruel--literally smothering me with coals of fire."

I turned over my music with trembling fingers; for, more than all, I dreaded Mr. Bovyer. Selecting one of the simplest songs, I sat down, determined to go resolutely through with it. When I ceased, I found that Mr. Bovyer had joined us. I rose hastily. "I am so glad you have come; you will reward my obedience to Mr. Winthrop, surely?"

"Yes--by asking for some more of that tender music of the Fatherland. My mother used to croon that song over us in childhood."

Mr. Winthrop joined his commands; so I complied, with a German martial song; and then, rising quickly, I went to the further side of the room, and took a seat beside Mrs. Hill.

"You have got tired before the rest of us, dear."

"I would not like to tire you. Mr. Bovyer is going to play now, and we shall none of us be in danger of weariness."

And he did play as I had never heard him do before, filling the room with harmonies that sometimes grew painful in their excess of sweetness.

Conversation ceased utterly--a compliment not usually paid to musicians, I had noticed, in Cavendish.

I glanced occasionally at Mr. Winthrop, who had taken a seat not far from where I was sitting. He sat with eyes closed, but not betraying, by a single muscle of the strong, self-contained face, that the music was affecting him in the slightest.

"This evening has given us something to remember until our dying day,"

Mrs. Hill said, with a deep sigh of satisfaction, after Mr. Bovyer ceased playing. "It was exceedingly kind in Mr. Winthrop permitting us to share in the evening's enjoyment."

"Was it for this he invited you?" I asked, with surprise.

"That was the inducement to leave our homes on Christmas Day. But we do not need a special inducement to come to Oaklands; we always consider it a high privilege to be Mr. Winthrop's guest."

"Yes, he can be very charming when he chooses," I said, unthinkingly, but very sorry for my remark directly it was uttered. "Then you were only invited here this morning, since Mr. Bovyer had only just arrived?" I asked.

"Oh, no, indeed; our invitations were received a week ago. Mr. Winthrop knew he was coming."

All these people knew Mr. Bovyer was coming, and a gala time planned for Christmas, and I was kept in ignorance. Mr. Winthrop don't regard me of enough importance to be intrusted with the merest trifles of everyday life, I thought, sorrowfully; but just then my eye fell on the ring, when it flashed into my gloomy heart a ray of light brighter than any sunbeam.

The two following days I was so absorbed in my Christmas tree that I paid very little attention to our guest, or anything going on about me, save what was directly connected with the duty in hand. A list of all the names had first to be got, and then each gift properly labeled. Muslin bags, ornamented with bright-colored wools, were to be made, and filled with nuts and confectionery; and, last of all, the tree had to be dressed. Mr. Bowen and Daniel Blake entered so heartily into the spirit of the undertaking that I found my own labors greatly lessened. Thomas cheerfully gave up his most cherished plans to carry the supplies to the hall, and things generally went on very satisfactorily. Others, too, sent in hampers filled with Christmas dainties; among the rest, one from Mrs.

Hill, to whom I had very fully described my undertaking. Mrs. Blake watched the heap slowly acc.u.mulating with a very preoccupied face; at last she spoke her mind freely:

"It seems a pity to have all these things eat up, and get no good from 'em. Now, I'd like to charge a trifle, and let every one come that wants to."

"What would be done with the money?"

"There's plenty of ways to spend it; but if I could have a say in the matter I'd like to give it to them poor little creatures I had for dinner Christmas. The mother's jest heart-broke. I believe you could count their bones; leastways all of them that's next the skin. I railly thought I could not get them filled; but I did at last, and then they was stupid like, they'd been short of victuals so long."

"Are their clothes as poor as their bodies?"

"Yes, indeed; and it does seem hard this cold weather for little children to have neither flesh nor flannels over the bones."

"I am perfectly willing to make a small charge, if you can let it be known in time for the people to be prepared."

"Oh, Dan'el and Mr. Bowen 'll see to that. Put up a notice in the mill and post-office; everybody 'll find it out."

So it was agreed that we should make the grown up folk pay something; but I insisted the price must not exceed twenty-five cents.

I went home to luncheon on Friday, very tired, but also very enthusiastic over our tree. If I could secure Mr. Winthrop's consent to a plain dinner, our entire domestic force could attend, and they were all eager to do so. He and Mr. Bovyer were engaged in a warm discussion over some knotty subject as they entered the dining-room, thereby compelling me to leave my question for sometime unasked. But Mr. Bovyer presently turned to me and said,

"Really, Miss Selwyn, you must think we have forgotten your existence."

"Oh, no, indeed; but I should like you to converse on something within nearer range of my faculties for a little while."

"We are all attention."

I turned to Mr. Winthrop as he spoke:

"Is it really imperative that you have a regular dinner to-day? Could you not take something easily prepared, a cup of tea, for instance, and some cold meats, and the like?"

"You propose a genuine funeral repast. Is anything about to happen?"

"Our Christmas tree; and our entire household is eager to go, yourself excepted."

"Why can't we all go?" Mr. Bovyer suggested, with considerable eagerness.

Mr. Winthrop looked aghast.

"They would think on the Mill Road the millennium was dawning if Mr.

Winthrop were to step down among them," I said.

"Then by all means let us foster the illusion."

"I will take the baked meats, Medoline, or a cracker and cheese--anything rather than that crowd."

"That is ever so kind. I will come home to brew you a cup of tea myself.

Ever since I was a child I have wanted to prepare a meal all alone--it will be really better than the Christmas tree; I mean more enjoyable."

"You have the greatest capacity for simple pleasures of any one I ever knew. We shall accept your services. Before you are through, you may find the task not so enjoyable as you think; but at the very worst we will give our help."

"Thank you very much; but one ignoramus blundering in the kitchen will be better than three."

Mrs. Flaxman looked greatly amused, but she very willingly gave her consent for me to come home while the guests were absorbed with their supper, and gratify my life-long yearning. The others were quite as well pleased as I; and cook permitted me to concoct, unaided, some special dishes for our repast. I laid the table myself, not accepting the slightest help from any one. My cooking ventures turned out quite successfully, and after a while my preparations were completed, so far as was possible, until the finis.h.i.+ng touches just before dinner was served. I went and dressed myself for the evening's entertainment. I took equal pains with my costume, as if I were going to entertain a party of friends at home, and it may be I was foolish enough to have a feeling of elation that my Mill Road friends should see me for once dressed like a real lady. The picture that my gla.s.s gave back when the pleasant task was all completed was comfortably rea.s.suring. Mrs. Flaxman I found waiting for me, when I went downstairs. Thomas had brought out at her direction a huge, old-fas.h.i.+oned carriage, that in the old days they had christened "Noah's Ark," and into it we all crowded, even including Samuel, who had an ambition for once in his life to have a drive with the aristocracy.

When we reached the hall, we found it already crowded, although it wanted a full hour before supper was to be announced. Mr. Bowen was doorkeeper, and on the table at his side I was glad to see a goodly heap of coin.

Mrs. Blake stood near, regarding the money with unconcealed satisfaction, which considerably deepened when Mrs. Flaxman stepped up and shook hands with her. Daniel seemed to be master of ceremonies, and was walking around with a mixed air of anxiety and satisfaction. The work was new to him, and he was somewhat uncertain all the time what to do next. But on the whole he managed everything with good common sense. He had the children seated directly in front of the tree, some fifty of them, he a.s.sured me. Their faces were a picture of genuine childish delight.

Probably memory would hold this scene clearly pictured on some of their hearts long after I was sleeping under the daisies. Long tables were ranged down each side of the house, on which was placed the food the people had come to enjoy. We walked slowly past them, and were surprised at the judgment and good taste of the arrangements. I waited until the children's tea was over. They were really the guests of the evening, and must be first served. Then in the bustle of getting the table in readiness for the older ones, I made my escape.

Thomas was waiting near to drive me home, his face quite radiant at the success of our enterprise. Arrived at Oaklands, I entered with great glee into our culinary operations, and soon had the dinner prepared. When my gentlemen came into the dining-room I was sitting, hot, and a trifle anxious, at the head of the table awaiting them. My respect for the powers in the kitchen that carried on our domestic machinery with so little jar, greatly increased. We had a laughable time changing the plates for our different courses. Thomas, who was installed in Esmerelda's place at the back of my chair, was about as awkward in his new situation as I was; but at the close of our repast, Mr. Winthrop, with apparent sincerity, a.s.sured us he had not enjoyed a dinner so much since his boyhood--a compliment that fully repaid me for my worry until I had thought it well over, and saw that it was capable of several meanings. I entertained them with a lively description of the scene going on at the Temperance Hall. Mr. Bovyer declared his intention of accompanying me on my return--a resolution, I could see, that was anything but pleasing to Mr. Winthrop. I was secretly very glad, since it was possible he might make a donation to our doorkeeper. Once on the way, Thomas drove his horses as I had never seen him do before. Possibly he was afraid the supper might all be consumed. He had paid his fee, and was resolved to get his money's worth. He may have hoped that by some happy chance he might sit down with those with whom he could not expect on any other occasion to have a similar privilege. I paid particular attention to Mr. Bovyer. As we pa.s.sed Mr. Bowen's table I saw him drop, in quiet fas.h.i.+on, a bank note upon it. Mr. Bowen hastened to make change, but Mr.

Bovyer shook his head and pa.s.sed on. I turned to look at Mr. Bowen, and saw his face suddenly light up so cheerfully that I concluded he had received a generous donation. I led Mr. Bovyer up where the children, growing now very curious over the Christmas Tree, were with difficulty preserving the proprieties of the occasion. He looked them over carefully, as if they were some distinct species from another planet, and then turning to me, said, "Did you say these were all poor children?"

"Their fathers are day laborers, and some of them are without that useful adjunct to childhood."

"They look rosy and happy."

"I presume they would look happy under present circ.u.mstances if their fathers were tramps. You should see the homes some of them will return to when they leave here. You would wonder at the forgetfulness of childhood."

"How did you chance to think of this merry gathering?"