Her Mother's Secret Part 62

"With a little sociable crowding, which no one will object to on a cold winter night, we can all go in one sleigh--the largest one, of course, and with four draught horses, equally of course."

While he spoke Mrs. Anglesea came in, eating a large pippin. She bade a general good-morning with her mouth full, took the chair which Mr. Force politely placed for her before the fire, hoisted her stoutly booted feet on the fender, drew up the edge of her skirt to toast her s.h.i.+ns as usual, and went on eating her apple, remarking that it had cleared off very cold, and that she always ate an apple before breakfast, when she could get one, to help her digestion.

Now no one could look at the lady from the gold mines and imagine that there was, ever had been, or ever could be, anything the matter with her digestion; but Mr. Force replied that it was no doubt a very healthy habit.

"You bet!" exclaimed the lady from Wild Cats', "Why, old man, if you was to eat an apple every day before breakfast, or better still, two or three of them, it would clarify your liver and take some o' that yellowness out'n your skin, and give you an appet.i.te, and put some flesh on them bare bones of your'n. You bet!"

Mr. Force bowed gravely, thanked her, and said he would think of it.

Other members of the family dropped in, as it was now near the breakfast hour. And the conversation ran on the clear, crisp day, the fine sleighing opportunities, and the coming dance of the evening. All was pleasant antic.i.p.ation. The day was spent in preparations.

It was still an hour to sundown when the whole family, including, of course, the guest, after an early tea, and being well wrapped up in hooded cloaks and heavy shawls, entered a capacious sleigh, lined with bearskins, furnished with foot warmers, and drawn by four strong horses, covered their laps with more bearskins and started for Oldfield.

The full moon was rising over the bay on the east, and the sun was sinking behind the high, wooded hill on the west, as they pa.s.sed out of the south gate and entered the turnpike road that skirted the hill and then ran parallel to the sh.o.r.e of the bay all the way to Oldfield Farm. It was a fine, level road along the sh.o.r.e, and they had a delightful sleigh ride over the frozen snow, which, in a little more than an hour's time, brought them to Oldfield Farm. The approach from the bay side was through a pine wood, from which, when they emerged, they came in view of the house, which was lighted up from garret to ground floor. Half a dozen or more of other sleighs, which had brought company to the farm, and from which the horses had been taken and led to the stable, stood in the yard.

The negro boy, Dan, no longer ragged, as when we first made his acquaintance at Grove Hill, but dressed neatly in his new Christmas suit, came to the horses' heads, while Mr. Force and Leonidas got out to a.s.sist the ladies and children to alight.

"Ma.r.s.e Abul," said Dan, apologetically, "I can take dese horses to de stable, an' put all dese b'arskins in de lof', an' 'vite Uncle Jake inter de kitchen, but I 'spects I'll hab ter leabe de big sleigh out yere, caze dere ain't no room in de stable fo' all dese yer big sleighs in de yard.

'Sides w'ich, it bein' ob a cl'ar night, de sleigh won't take no harm."

"All right; leave the sleigh here, my boy," said Mr. Force, drawing his wife's arm within his own, and leading the way into the lighted pa.s.sage, followed by all the rest of his party.

On the right side of the pa.s.sage was an open door, leading into a room in which tables along the walls were covered with Christmas goodies; while on the left hand was another room, in which were gathered about thirty people, young, middle-aged and old--some sitting down, some standing in groups, some walking about in pairs, and all talking at once, and no one listening, apparently.

At the end of the hall, directly opposite the front door, there was a flight of steps leading to the rooms above, and up these stairs our party went to take off their wraps. In the upper pa.s.sage there were doors on the right and left leading into bedrooms. At one of these doors, on the right, stood Peggy Grandiere, ready to show the lady guests into their dressing room; at the opposite door, on the left, stood Sam Grandiere, ready to show the gentlemen into theirs.

Here, of course, our set divided and followed their guides--Mr. Force and Leonidas going one way and Mrs. Force and her party the other.

In the ladies' room they found a good, open fire, and the colored girl Henny in attendance; but there was none of the company present besides themselves, except Miss Sibby Bayard, who was standing before the gla.s.s, settling a smart cap made of white Irish gauze and white satin ribbon on her head.

"Good-evening! That's right! I am glad to see you all here! Be merry while you may, sez I; for you don't often get the chance, sez I!"

Such was her general greeting of the party; but after she had fixed her cap to her mind, she turned around and shook hands with every individual.

When Mrs. Force and her party had laid off their wraps, they stood up in the same costumes they had worn at their own Christmas Eve dance. There was no extravagance, and but little variety of dressing in that neighborhood.

A changing of boots for slippers, a little shaking down of slightly rumpled skirts, a little touching up of slightly disarranged hair, a drawing on and b.u.t.toning of kid gloves, and they were all ready.

Their two gentlemen met them at the chamber door, and they went down together.

Their entrance seemed to complete the expected company, and to give the signal for "the opening of the ball," for before seats could be found for the elders of the party the musicians, consisting of two negro fiddlers, a tambourine and a banjo player, struck the stirring, old-fas.h.i.+oned tune of the "Fisher's Hornpipe." And gentlemen immediately took their partners--Mr. Force led out Mrs. Anglesea; Leonidas took Odalite; Ned and Sam Grandiere, Wynnette and Elva, for one set. William Elk and Thomas Grandiere, the elders, took respectively Miss Sukey Grandiere and Miss Sibby Bayard; Dr. Ingle and Roland Bayard took respectively Natalie Meeke and Rosemary Hedge. These formed the second set. There was not room enough in the farmhouse parlor for a third set, so about half the company had to wait their turn; but they amused themselves very well in the interim by listening to the music, watching the dancers, gossiping, flirting, and making flying excursions into the dining room for refreshment in the form of plum cake, pound cake, raisins and almonds, and sugar kisses, lemon punch, apple toddy, or eggnogg.

When the first quadrilles were completed, another set of dancers took the place of the first, and the former rested on their laurels, watched their successors on the floor, gossiped and flirted, and made flying excursions to the dining room in their turn.

And high festivity continued until the tall clock in the pa.s.sage struck twelve, when the music stopped in the middle of "Malbrook," and all then mingled together, shaking hands and wis.h.i.+ng each other

"Happy New Year."

Then all the dancers formed a double line the whole length of the parlor, for the giddy, whirling, exhilarating Virginia reel, with which the ball ended.

Finally, there went around a huge jug of hot mulled port wine, from which a goblet was filled for every guest.

And when this had been drunk amid much jesting and laughter, the company put on their wraps and hoods, bade good-night to their hosts, entered their sleighs, and, with more jesting and more laughter, started for a moonlight drive over the frozen snow to their several homes.

And so ended the New Year's Eve party at Oldfield Farm.

CHAPTER XLVI

THE LADY FROM THE MINES HAS A PLAN

New Year's morning dawned clear and cold.

The family of Mondreer, on account of the party at Oldfield on the previous evening, and the long sleigh ride home "in the wee, sma' hours"

before the dawn, slept later than usual that day, so that it was nine o'clock before they were all gathered around the breakfast table, to renew their New Year's greetings over the first morning meal of the year.

The pleasant party of the previous evening was discussed, and then the program of the pa.s.sing day.

The holiday was to be kept very unostentatiously.

It had been the annual custom of many years for Mr. and Mrs. Force to entertain the Rev. Dr. and Mrs. Peters to dinner at Mondreer on New Year's Day. The custom had not been neglected on the present occasion, and the rector of All Faith and his wife were expected to come. Young Dr. Ingle, in consideration of his betrothal to Natalie Meeke, had been invited to meet the Peters.

These were the only arrangements for keeping New Year's Day at Mondreer.

As there was no church service on that day, the party from the rectory arrived early in the forenoon, for the people of the neighborhood, even on festive occasions, kept the healthful, old-fas.h.i.+oned hours, and dined soon after noon. The rector and his wife were a fine old couple, without children at home, and very much devoted to each other.

Mrs. Anglesea, efflorescent in a cardinal-red dama.s.se silk, and heavy gold jewelry, seized upon the clerical pair instantly as her own especial prey, because they were new acquaintances, who had not heard the story of her marriage, her robbery and her desertion by her husband, from her own lips.

Mrs. Anglesea took so much pleasure in telling her tale that Wynnette, in her pungent way, said that the lady from the Wild Cats' Gulch was a reincarnation of the spirit of the Ancient Mariner, with the variation that to her every new acquaintance was a "wedding guest," to whom she was bound to tell her story. And that for all the sufferings the injured wife had endured she found full compensation in the narration of her great wrongs, and in the abuse of the enormous villainy of her husband.

And facts really bore out Wynnette's theory.

"Now! What do you think of Angus Anglesea for a gentleman and an officer?"

demanded Mrs. Anglesea of the rector and his wife, when she had finished her relation.

"We must not judge. We must forgive," said the mild minister.

"'Forgive!'" echoed the lady from the mines. "'Forgive!' I like that; but you are a man, parson, and of course you will take sides with a man, and want me to 'forgive' him. Set him up with it, and you, too! But I'll put it to your ole 'oman here," she added, turning to the rector's wife. "Now see here, ma'am. Take it home, and put yourself in my place. Suppose now that your ole man, the parson there, had a-gone, and a-married of you, and then a-gone and robbed of you of all your money, and levanted off some'er's and married some other 'oman. Could you have 'forgive' him? I put it to yourself now. Answer me."

But the mere hypothesis that the venerable and reverend Dr. Peters could ever by any possibility have been guilty of such misdemeanors was so overwhelming, not to say paralyzing, that the minister's wife could only drop her jaw, open her mouth, and stare.

"I'll forgive that devil after he is well hanged, and not a half a second before. 'Cause it wouldn't be safe, nohow."

The entrance of young Dr. Ingle put an end to the subject. He had heard the story of the lady's wrongs so often that he did not need to hear any part of it repeated.

Mrs. Force, her three daughters, and Miss Meeke, soon filed in, and the conversation became general.