CHAPTER XVI
LOUISE DISAPPEARS
The guests for the quilting party arrived at an early hour in theafternoon. All that morning Faith and Aunt Prissy were busy. Dishesfilled with red apples were brought up from the cellar; cakes weremade ready, and the house in order before dinner time.
Only one little girl, Jane Tuttle, had been asked to come in the earlyafternoon. Jane was about Faith's age, and at school they were in thesame classes. She was not very tall, and was very fat. Jane was one ofthe children whom Caroline and Catherine Young had taken especialdelight in teasing.
"Jane, Jane! Fat and plain; With a button nose and turned-in toes,"
they would call after her, until the little girl dreaded the verysight of them. When Faith had proved that she was not afraid of thesisters Jane Tuttle became her steadfast admirer, and was greatlypleased to come in the afternoon with her mother. But she wassurprised to find Louise Trent there before her, and evidently verymuch at home. However, she was too kind-hearted a child not to bepleasant and polite to the lame girl, and Louise was now as ready tomake friends as, before knowing Faith, she had been sullen andunfriendly.
Each of the girls was encouraged to set a few neat stitches in thequilt. Then, on the arrival of Mrs. Fairbanks and Mrs. Lewis, AuntPrissy told Faith that if she wanted to take the little girls to herown room she might do so.
There was a glowing fire on the hearth, and Faith was pleased for Janeto see her pleasant chamber, and to introduce "Lady Amy."
"I wish I had brought my doll," said Jane, as the little girlsgathered in front of the fire. "Mine is one my mother made for me."
"There, Louise! We could make you a doll!" exclaimed Faith, knowinghow much her friend had always wished for a doll of her own.
But Louise shook her head. "I guess I am too old for dolls; I'mtwelve," she said slowly, "and I don't have time to make dresses fordolls now that I'm learning to read and write. You see," and sheturned to Jane, "I keep house for my father."
Jane looked at Louise, wondering to herself why she had ever imaginedthat Louise Trent was a girl that she could not have for a friend.Why, Louise was really pretty! thought fat little Jane, lookingadmiringly at the smooth black hair, and the neat and pretty dress.And so nearly grown-up, too. Twelve years old! Jane resolved to go andsee Louise, and to ask her to come for a visit.
"I shall always play with dolls," she heard Faith declare. "I'd liketo have a regiment of dolls, and play games with them. Wouldn't it befun to have dolls that we could make up names for, and then have themdo all sorts of things?"
Louise and Jane agreed that would be a fine game.
"We could dress up the pillows on your bed for dolls," suggestedLouise.
"Yes, and put my dresses on them," responded Faith eagerly, running tothe closet and bringing out the blue dress, a skirt and a smallshawl. It was not long before two "cushiony" figures, as large asJane, were seated on the bed.
"Let's put our coats and caps on them, Faith; and when the other girlscome this evening we'll make them think the pillows are company,"suggested Louise.
Jane jumped about the room with delight as Faith and Louise adjustedthe caps and fur coats.
"We'll introduce them as Annie Snow and Mary White," said Faith. "Itwill be fun to see what the girls will say."
Four little girls were expected, and several boy friends of Donald's.Aunt Prissy wondered a little at Faith's eagerness to take the girlsdirectly up-stairs on their arrival, but she was greatly pleased tosee that Louise, Jane and Faith were evidently having a delightfultime.
It was nearly dusk when the little visitors arrived, and Faith's roomwas rather dim and shadowy. The little girls coming in were rathersurprised to find that there were strangers, evidently just arrived,sitting on Faith's bed.
"Girls, these are two of my best friends, Annie Snow and Mary White,"said Faith, trying hard not to laugh, as her schoolmates bowedpolitely and greeted the stout figures on the bed, who, apparently,did not hear the introductions.
Jane, giggling with delight, circled around the newcomers; whileLouise seated herself on the bed and began talking to Annie Snow.Faith endeavored to make the newcomers at ease, and it was not longbefore she had to run down-stairs to help her aunt with the supper,leaving Louise and Jane to carry on the game.
The children were to have their supper in the kitchen. The tables foryoung and old had been spread before the arrival of any of the guests,so there was but little for Aunt Prissy and Faith to do before callingthe guests to supper.
Louise was the last one to enter the kitchen, her face radiant withfun and delight at the success of "Annie Snow" and "Mary White." Shefound a chance to tell Faith that "Annie" and "Mary" had managed tosay that they didn't feel like eating supper, and that the girls hadnot yet discovered the joke.
"We'll bring them down after supper," Faith whispered.
"Are your friends from the Wilderness?" asked Peggy Tibbetts, theoldest girl of the party, as Faith sat down beside her.
"No," Faith answered slowly. "They are both coming down after supper,and I know you will be surprised when I tell you that they live rightin this house."
Peggy Tibbetts was surprised. She looked almost frightened, and lostno time in whispering this information to the other girls; so thatwhen Faith announced that she would run up-stairs and ask "Annie" and"Mary" to come down there was an anxious silence.
Faith asked Jane to go with her, and in a few moments they returnedwith the two clumsy "girls." In the brightly-lit kitchen thedressed-up figures could no longer be mistaken, and the children weregreatly pleased and amused by "Annie" and "Mary," who were establishedin straight-backed chairs, and urged to share in the supper.
There was so much laughter and merriment in the kitchen that AuntPrissy looked in for a moment. "Faithie dear, who are the little girlsin the corner?" she asked. To Louise and Jane this seemed a triumphindeed, and when Aunt Prissy, entering into the spirit of the affair,insisted upon being introduced to "Annie" and "Mary," and said shewas very glad to see them, the children danced about, greatly pleasedwith this unexpected fun.
When the clock struck nine the grown people and children were allready to start for home. Louise was to stay all night with Faith.As the children said their good-byes and stepped out into thesnow-trodden path they called back messages to "Annie" and "Mary."The full moon shone down so brightly that the path could be plainlyseen, and in the distance the dark line of the forest, and the heightsof Ticonderoga.
"It's the best time I ever had in all my life," declared Jane, as shetrotted off holding fast to her mother's hand.
And Faith said the same as she bade Aunt Prissy good-night. "It's funto have parties, isn't it, Aunt Prissy," she said, "and all the girlsare so pleasant."
"That is what makes the good time, isn't it?" responded her aunt.
"I hope it won't storm to-morrow," Louise said, as the two girlsprepared for bed.
"What makes you think of a storm?" questioned Faith.
"There was a ring around the moon," said Louise; "that's one sign, andthe air felt like snow."
But Faith was too happy over the evening to think about weather signs.She had, for that night, quite forgotten about the English soldiersand her resolve to send a message to Ethan Allen.
Louise's predictions proved right; for when the morning came snow wasfalling steadily, and great drifts were heaped up against the wallsand fences. A chill east wind came sweeping across the ice-bound lake,and it was plain that there would be no more skating for many days.
For nearly a week trails and roads were impassable. Mr. Trent, knowingthat Louise was safe and happy with her friends, made no effort toreach her; and the Scotts were glad to keep indoors, safe from thefierce cold and wind.
Donald and Hugh dug a tunnel to the shop, and Mr. Scott kept a pathopen to the barn, while indoors Aunt Prissy kept the two girls busyand happy. She declared that she had been hoping for a day to dye somerecently woven blankets, and asked Faith what color she tho
ught wouldbe best.
"But how can you make any color you like, Aunt Prissy?" asked Faith.
"Perhaps not 'any color I like,' but I have a good lot of colors tochoose from," replied Aunt Prissy. "People who live in the wildernessneed only to step outdoors to find almost anywhere some plant thatfurnishes dye, and I gather my dye-plants and roots every summer, as Iam sure your own mother does."
"I know mother always gathers the dogwood roots to make a scarlet dye.Kashaqua told her about that," answered Faith. "The Indians use it fortheir feathers."
"And I am sure your mother dyed your brown dress with the shells ofthe hickory-nut," said Aunt Prissy, "and the yellow root is what Iused to color the covers on the chair cushions in your room."
This was all new to Louise, and she listened eagerly, thinking toherself that she would color the faded quilts on her own bed; and thatanother summer she would gather a good supply of the roots and plantsof which Mrs. Scott spoke.
"The pokeweed berries will color a good red," continued Mrs. Scott;"but for scarlet we must use the dogwood roots."
Then Mrs. Scott showed the little girls her bundles of dyestuffs, eachplant and root tied up and marked carefully with its name and use. Alarge number of the dogwood roots were put into a huge iron kettle,the kettle filled with water, and hung over the fire. When it hadboiled for several hours there would be a good scarlet dye in whichthe new blankets would be dipped. Then they would be hung to dry inthe shed.
The next day the sun came out and shone brightly down on a white andglistening world, and that afternoon Mr. Trent came to take Louisehome. He would not come in, but waited at the door until she was readyto go. But he thanked Mrs. Scott for all her kindness to his littledaughter.
Faith was quite sure that Mr. Trent must be sorry to be a Tory insteadof a loyal American. "But I suppose he can't help it," she decided,and always thought of her friend's father as unfortunate.
Faith and Louise always had so many things to talk about that theyseldom spoke of the redcoats; and when they did Louise seemed todislike them more than Faith herself.
Faith and Donald both had snow-shoes, and on their way to school, afew days later, Faith stopped at the shoemaker's door. But there wasno response to her knock, and when she tried the door it would notopen. She wondered where Louise and her father could be, but not untilthe next day did she hear that the shoemaker and Louise had left theirhome, apparently not to return. They had gone with a number of Englishfamilies, on sledges, down the river, without a good-bye to the kindfriends who had grown to love the little lame girl.
"I know Louise couldn't help it," Faith declared, when Aunt Prissytold her the news. "She will write to me, I know she will," but it wasa long time before any word came to her from her little friend. Andnow Faith became more and more eager for March to come, that she mightonce more see her father and mother, and make some attempt to send amessage to Ethan Allen.