CHAPTER XII
SECRETS
"Did you see all the fort, and the guns, and the soldiers?" askedDonald eagerly, running to meet his cousin as she came slowly into thesitting-room. "Why, your hand is all scratched!" he added in asurprised tone.
Faith tried to cover the scratched hand with a fold of her skirt. AuntPrissy noticed that the little girl wore her every-day dress.
"Didn't you wear your blue dress, Faithie?" and without waiting for ananswer said: "Well, perhaps this one was just as well, for you mighthave hurt your blue dress."
Faith sat down on the big sofa thinking to herself that she couldnever be happy again. First, and worst of all, was the ruined dress.Then the remembrance of the way she had been treated by Caroline andCatherine; and, last of all, her _secrets_!--every one a little moreimportant and dreadful than the other. First the blue beads; thenNathan's knowledge of a hidden entrance to Fort Ticonderoga; and thenthe dress. She was so taken up with her unhappy thoughts that she didnot realize she had not answered Donald, or spoken to her aunt, untilDonald, who was standing directly in front of her, demanded: "What'sthe matter, Cousin Faith? Does your tooth ache?"
Faith shook her head. "I'm tired. I didn't have a good time at all. Idon't like those girls," and, greatly to Donald's alarm, she put herhead on the arm of the sofa and began to cry.
In an instant she felt Aunt Prissy's arm about her, and heard the kindvoice say: "Never mind, dear child. Don't think about them."
After a little Aunt Prissy persuaded Faith to lie down and rest untilsupper time.
"I'll sit here with my sewing and keep you company," said Aunt Prissy."It's an hour to candle-light."
Donald tiptoed out of the room, but was back in a moment standing inthe doorway and beckoning his mother; and Mrs. Scott went quietlytoward him, closing the door softly behind her.
"It's those girls. The ones Faith went with to the fort," Donaldexplained in a whisper. "They're on the door-step."
Caroline and Catherine were standing, very neat and demure, at thefront door.
"Has your little girl got home?" inquired Catherine in her most politemanner; "she ran off and left us," added Caroline.
"Faith is safe at home," responded Mrs. Scott in a pleasant voice.
"Why didn't you ask them to supper, mother? You said you were goingto," demanded Donald, as he watched the sisters walk down the path.
"Your cousin is too tired for company," said his mother, who hadplanned a little festivity for Faith and her friends on their return,but had quickly decided that her little niece would be better pleasednot to see the sisters again that day.
"All the more cake for us then," said Donald cheerfully, for hehad seen a fine cake on the dining-room table; "there comes theshoemaker's girl," he added. "Shall you ask her to stay, mother?"
"Yes, indeed," and Mrs. Scott turned to give Louise a cordial welcome.
"Faith is resting on the sofa, but you may go right in, Louise. I knowshe will be glad to see you," she said, smiling down at the dark-eyedlittle girl. "When are you coming to make us another visit?"
"Father said I might stay all night if you asked me," respondedLouise, who now felt sure that Mrs. Scott was her friend.
"We shall be glad indeed to have you, my dear. Let me take your capand cape. And go in and cheer up Faithie, for I fear she has had anunhappy time," said Mrs. Scott.
Louise's smile faded. She had never had a friend until Faith Carewcame to Ticonderoga, and the thought that any one had made Faithunhappy made her ready to inflict instant punishment on the offenders.
"Oh, Louise! I'm so glad it's you!" exclaimed Faith, as she heard thesound of Louise's crutch stubbing across the floor.
Louise sat down beside the crumpled little figure on the sofa.
"What did they do, Faith?" she demanded.
Faith told the story of the walk to the fort; of the disagreeablemanner of both Caroline and Catherine toward her, and of theirdisappearance as soon as they were inside the fort. But she did nottell of her efforts to find them, nor of Nathan Beaman's appearance.
"They are hateful things!" Louise declared, "but it won't be longbefore they'll go to Albany with their father. Oh!" she ended a littlefearfully. "I ought not to have told that. It's a secret," she addedquickly.
"No, it isn't. They told me," answered Faith, "and if it were a secretI shouldn't want to know it. I hate and despise secrets."
Louise looked at her friend with a little nod of comprehension."That's because you have a secret," she said.
"How did you know, Louise?" and Faith wondered if it were possibleLouise could know about the blue dress.
"I know," said Louise. "It's dreadful to know secrets. I can stay allnight. My father has gone to the fort. Oh!" and again she put her handover her mouth. "I ought not to have told that. He doesn't want anyone to know."
Faith leaned back against the sofa with a little sigh ofdiscouragement. It seemed to her there was nothing but secrets. Shewished she was with her mother and father in her pleasant cabin home,where everybody knew about everything.
"Where's 'Lady Amy'?" asked Louise, quite sure that such a beautifuldoll would comfort any trouble. And her question made Faith rememberthat Louise was a guest.
"I'll get her," she said, and in a few moments "Lady Amy" was sittingon the sofa between the two little friends, and Faith was displayingthe new dresses that Aunt Prissy had helped her make for the doll.
"Father says he will buy me a doll," Louise announced, "and he's goingto get me a fine string of beads, too, when he goes away again;" forthe shoemaker went away frequently on mysterious business. Many of thesettlers were quite sure that he carried messages for the Britishofficers to other forts; but he came and went so stealthily that asyet no proof was held against him.
"I have some blue beads. My father is going to bring them when hecomes to see me," said Faith. "I hope yours will be just like them."
Louise shook her head a little doubtfully. "I may never get them,after all. Father forgets things," she said.
Before supper time Faith was in a much happier state of mind. She hadhelped Louise with her reading lesson; they had played that the sofawas a throne and Lady Amy a queen, and that they were Lady Amy'sdaughters; and the unpleasantness of the early afternoon had quitevanished when the candles were lighted, and supper on the table.
The supper seemed a feast to the shoemaker's daughter. Every time shecame to visit Faith Louise tasted some new dish, so daintily preparedthat she was at once eager to learn to make it. Faith was hungry, too,and, as no reference was made to her trip to the fort, she enjoyed hersupper; and not until it was finished was she reminded of hertroubles.
"To-morrow Louise may go to church with us, and you may wear your bluedress that you are so careful of," Aunt Prissy said.
Faith made no response. She did not know what to do or say. She was soquiet that her aunt was sure her little niece was overtired, and soonafter supper sent the little girls off to bed.
"What is the matter, Faith?" questioned Louise, when they were safelyin the big chamber, with its high white bed, curtained windows, andcomfortable chairs, and which to Louise seemed the finest bedroom inall the world.
Faith threw herself face down on the bed. "I don't know what to do! Idon't know what to do! I've spoiled my blue dress!" she sobbed. There!That was one secret the less, she thought. And Louise would nevertell. "I can't go to church. I don't dare tell Aunt Prissy about thedress. It was to be my best dress all winter," she added. "What shallI do, Louise?"
Louise shook her head. That Faith Carew, who seemed to her to be themost fortunate girl in all the world, should be in trouble was a farmore dreadful thing to Louise than any trouble of her own.
"Let me see the dress," she said; "perhaps it isn't very bad."
Faith opened the trunk and pulled out the blue dress, which only thatmorning had been so fresh and dainty. Now it was rumpled, soiled andtorn. Faith's tears flowed afresh as she held it out for Louise tosee.
"
I guess you'd better tell your aunt," Louise said soberly. "Tell hernow, this minute," she added quickly; "the sooner the better."
Faith looked at her in surprise. She wondered at herself that she hadhidden the dress, or even thought of not telling Aunt Prissy.
"I'll go now," she said, and, still holding the dress, walked out ofthe room. She no longer felt afraid. As she went down the stairs shethought over all Aunt Prissy's goodness toward her. "I'll tell herthat I can wear my other dress for best," she decided.
The boys were already in bed; Mr. Scott was attending to the eveningchores, and Aunt Prissy was alone in the sitting-room when Faithappeared in the doorway.
"Aunt Prissy, look! I tore my dress coming home to-day, and I wasafraid to tell you! Oh, Aunt Prissy!" for her aunt had taken Faith andthe blue dress into her arms, and held the little girl closely as shesaid:
"Why, dear child! How could you ever be afraid of me? About a dress,indeed! A torn dress is nothing. Nothing at all."
"Louise, you are my very best friend," Faith declared happily, as shecame running into the room a few minutes later. "I am so glad youmade me tell."
Louise looked at Faith with shining eyes. She wished there was somewonderful thing that she could do for Faith as a return for all thehappiness her friendship had brought into her life.
The clouds had lifted. Faith had disposed of one secret, and felt theothers would not matter very much. The two little friends snuggleddown in the big feather bed and were soon fast asleep.