X.
UP-COUNTRY.
AUNT BARBARA and Betty had finished their breakfast in the coolbreakfast-room, or little dining-room as it was sometimes called by thefamily. This looked out on the short elm-shaded grass of the side yard,but it was apt to get too warm later in the day. The dining-room wasmuch larger, and had most of the family portraits in it and a ponderoussideboard and side tables, and Betty sometimes thought that a good dealof machinery had to be set running there to give a quiet dinner orsupper just to Aunt Barbara and herself. But the little dining-room wasvery cosy, with a small sideboard and a tall clock and an oldlooking-glass and very old-fashioned slender wooden armchairs. The suncame dancing in through the leaves at a square window. Thebreakfast-room was nearer the kitchen, and Serena had a sociable customof appearing now and then to ask Miss Leicester about the housekeeping.
"There now, Miss Barb'ra," she exclaimed, putting her head in at thedoor, while Betty and her aunt still lingered. "You excuse me this time,but here's Jonathan considers it best to go off up-country looking forwinter's wood, of all things! I told him I'd like to ride up long of himto see sister Sarah when he went, but I never expected he'd select thevery day I set two weeks ago for us to pick the currants."
"But one day will make very little difference; I thought yesterday whenyou spoke of them that they needed a little more sun," said MissLeicester persuasively.
"'T will bring the jelly right into the last o' the week when there'senough to do any way." One would have thought that Serena was beingforced into unpleasant duty, but this was her way of beginning a day'spleasure, and Miss Leicester had been familiar with it for many years.
"He's goin' right off; puttin' the hosses in now; never gives nobody amoment to consider," grumbled Serena, but Miss Leicester laughed andbade the good soul hurry and get herself ready. There was nothing to bedone that day that Letty could not manage, or Letty's sister would comeover in the afternoon, or Mrs. Grimshaw, the extra helper who wasfrequently on hand. "I think Jonathan is wise not to give you any moretime to think about it. There's no use in scouring the whole houseoutside and in before you take a day's pleasure," she suggestedcheerfully.
"I like to have my mind at rest," responded Serena, but still there wassomething unsaid. Betty's eyes were eager, but she considerately waitedfor Serena to speak first. "You see, Miss Barb'ra, Jonathan's got totake up the rag-bags, 't is most a year since I got 'em up to sisterSarah's before, and they're in the way here, we all know, and I've gotsome bundles beside, and I told Seth Pond to run out an' pick a mess o'snap beans. Sister Sarah's piece is very late land and I s'pose shewon't have any; and Jonathan he knows when I start I fill up more thanthe little wagon; so he's got the big one, and that makes empty seats,an' Miss Betty was saying that when I was goin' up again"--
"You are base conspirators, both of you," said Aunt Barbara, muchamused. "It is a delightful day; the weather couldn't be better. Nowhurry, Betty, and don't keep Serena waiting."
"If it's so that you really want to go, Miss Betty."
"I do, indeed, Miss Serena," responded Betty with great spirit, and offshe ran up-stairs, while her aunt hurried to find something to send byway of remembrance, not only to Serena's sister Sarah, but to Seth'smother, who lived two miles this side.
There was great excitement for the next half hour. Everybody behaved asif there were danger of missing a train, and Seth and Letty were sentthis way and that, and Serena gave as many last charges as if she meantto be absent a fortnight, while Jonathan, already in the wagon, grumbledat the delay and shouted to the horses if they so much as lifted a footat a fly. When they had fairly started he gave a chuckle of satisfactionand said that he didn't expect when he was harnessing to get off untilmuch as an hour later, whereat Serena with unwonted levity called him a"deceivin' old sarpent." The wind was blowing gently from the north,and was cool enough to make one comfortable in a jacket, though Bettycould not be persuaded that hers was needed. Serena's shawl was pinnedneatly about her shoulders. She sat alone on the back seat of the wagon,for Jonathan had said that it would ride better not to be too heavybehind and therefore Betty was keeping him company in front, of whichscheme Serena had her own secret opinion. The piece-bags took up a largepart of the spare seat. Sister Sarah was lame and took great joy inworking the waste material of the Leicester house into rugs and ragcarpets, and it was one of Serena's joys to fill the round piece-bagseven to bursting.
Then there were the beans, and the bundles large and small, and Bettywas in charge of a package of newspapers and magazines and patentmedicine almanacs and interesting circulars of all sorts which Seth hadbeen saving for his mother.
Jonathan was a tall, thin man, with a shrewd clean-shaven face. He worea new straw hat that day, with a faded linen coat, and a much washed-outplaid gingham cravat under his shirt collar. The best hat was worn onBetty's account, and was evidently a little stiff and uncomfortable, forhe took it off once or twice and looked into the crown soberly and thenput it on again.
"Sorry you wore it, I s'pose?" observed Serena on one of theseoccasions.
"Got to wear it some time," answered Jonathan gruffly, so that nobodythought best to speak of the hat again even when a sudden puff of windblew it over into a field. Betty had been ready to put on one of her oldplay-gowns, as she still called them, but upon reflection decided thatit would be hardly respectful when she had been invited to go visitingwith such kind and proper friends, and indeed Serena had given her ahasty and complacent glance from head to foot when she came down dressedin one of the prettiest of the London ginghams. Mrs. Duncan, Betty'skind friend and adviser, had been sure that these ginghams would allfour be needed to clothe our heroine comfortably through the summer,that is to judge from experience in other summers; but it made adifference in the stress put upon ginghams, to be a year older.
The up-country road wound first among farms and within sight of theriver, then it took a sudden northward turn and there were not so manywhite elder flowers by the way as there were junipers and young birches.There were long reaches through the cool woods, and the road was alwaysrising to a higher part of the country, veritable up-country, among thehills. From one high point where they stopped to let the horses rest aminute there was a beautiful view of the low lands that lay toward thesea, and the river which ran southward in shining lines. It would behard to say who most enjoyed the morning. The elder members of the partyseldom felt themselves free for a holiday, and Betty was always ready toenjoy whatever came in her way; but there was a delicious novelty inbeing asked to spend a day with Serena and Jonathan. They were hostessand host, and Betty felt an unusual spirit of deference and gratitudetoward them; it seemed as if they were both quite conscious of adifferent relationship toward Betty from that at home. It was wonderfulto see what cordial greetings most of the people gave them along theroad, and how many warm friends they seemed to possess. The fartherthey went, the more struck by this was our Betty, who gave a little sighat some unworded thought about always being a newcomer and stranger. Shehad begun to feel so recognized and at home in Tideshead that it was alittle hard now to find herself unknown again.
But Serena liked to tell her who every one was, and there was as muchfriendly interest shown in Miss Betty Leicester as any heart could wish.
They had gone almost fourteen miles, and Betty was just nearing the endof a long description of her experiences at the Queen's Jubilee, whenJonathan said: "Now you can rec'lect just where you put the mark in. Idon't calc'late to lose none of it, but here we've got to stop top ofthe hill an' see Seth's folks. You've got them papers an' things handy,ain't you, Serena?"
Betty saw a yellow story-and-a-half house by the roadside with somequeer little sheds and outbuildings, and looked with great interest tosee if any one came to the window. "Seth's folks" meant nobody but hismother, who lived alone as Betty knew, and there she was standing inthe door, a kind-faced, round-shouldered little creature, who had thepatient, half-apprehensive look of those women who live alone in lonelyplaces.
She threw her big clean gingham apron over her head and cameforward just as Jonathan had got out of the wagon and Betty followedhim.
"There, bless ye!" said "Seth's folks." "I waked up this morning kind ofexpecting that I should see somebody from down Seth's way. I expect he'swell's common?"
"Oh, yes," responded Jonathan. "We had to leave him to keep house. Hewas full o' messages, but I can't seem to remember none on 'em now."
"No matter, so long I know's he's well," said the little woman, shakinghands with Betty and looking at her delightedly. "Now I want you all tocome in and stop to dinner," but Serena could not even be persuaded to"'light down" on account of her duty to sister Sarah. Betty carried inthe armful of reading matter and Mrs. Pond followed her, and while ourfriend looked at the plain little house and fancied Seth practicing histunes, and saw the beautiful cone frame which he had helped his motherto make, the hospitable little mother was getting some home-maderoot-beer out of a big stone jug, and soon served it to her three guestsin pretty old-fashioned blue and white mugs. Betty thought she had nevertasted anything so delicious as the flavor of spice and pleasingbitterness in the cold drink, and Jonathan smacked his lips loudly andpromised to call for more as he came back. Mrs. Pond took another goodlong look at Betty before they parted. "I wasn't expectin' you to be somuch of a young lady, I do' know's you be quite growed up yet, though,"she said. This was not the least of the pleasures of that day, and theywent on next to sister Sarah's, where Betty and Serena and the freightwere to be left while Jonathan went off about his business.
It almost seemed as if up-country existed for the sake of its markettown of Tideshead. Betty had been there once or twice in her childhood,but her memories even of sister Sarah were rather indistinct. She hadtaken a long nap once on the patchwork quilt in the bedroom, and hadwaked to find four or five women hooking a large rug in the kitchen,all talking together, which had made an impression upon her young mind.It was strawberry-time too on that last visit. But sister Sarahremembered a great deal more about it than this, and was delighted tosee Betty once more. There was the very rug on the floor, alreadybeginning to look worn. One could remember it by a white, or rather agray, rabbit under some large green leaves which made part of thedesign. It was impossible to say how many rugs there were in the house,as if life went on for the sole purpose of making hooked and braidedrugs. Those in the kitchen at Aunt Barbara's were evidently the work ofsister Sarah's industrious fingers. Serena might have left the place ofher birth the week before instead of nearly forty years, if one mightjudge by the manner in which she hung her bonnet and shawl on a nailbehind the door and put her gray thread gloves into the table drawer.
Sister Sarah looked like a neat little nun, and limped painfully as shewent about the room. Sometimes she used a crutch, but she seemed as lamewith it as without it, and she was such a brisk little creature inspirit, and was so little depressed by her misfortune that one felt itwould be unwelcome to express any pity. Betty knew that sometimes thepoor woman suffered a great deal of pain and could not move at all, andthat a neighbor who also lived alone came at those times and stayed withher for a few weeks. "Sister Sarah ain't one mite lame in her mind,"Serena said proudly one day, and Betty found this to be the truth. Shedid not like to read, however, and told Betty that it was never anythingbut a task, except to study geography, and she only had one oldgeography, fairly worn to pieces, which she knew by heart, with all itslists of towns and countries and rivers, the productions and boundariesand capitals and climatic conditions and wild animals were at hertongue's end for anybody who cared to hear them. "The old folks used tothink she'd better exercise her memory learning hymns, and Sister Sarahfavored geography," Serena once explained; "but she knows what otherfolks knows, and has got a head crammed full o' learning. She neverforgets nothing, whilst I leak by the way, myself, and do' know whetherI know anything or not," she ended triumphantly.
Serena's mind was full of plans that day, and after resting a littlewhile and hearing the news, she asked Betty whether she would go withher to a cousin's about a mile away by a pasture path, or whether shewould stay where she was. The path sounded very pleasant, but from thetone of the invitation it seemed best to remain behind, so she quicklydecided and Serena set forth alone. It was only about eleven o'clock andshe meant to be back by twelve, and dinner was put off half an hour.Then Serena would have the afternoon clear until it was time to go. Thecousin had seen trouble since the last visit, so it never would do to gohome without seeing her. Sister Sarah and Betty sat by the front windowsof the living-room, and Betty obeyed a parting charge to tell hercompanion "about seeing the Queen and the times when she used to go andsee the Prince o' Wales's girls," so that the last of the morning wassoon gone.
"Such folks has their aches an' pains just like us," commented sisterSarah at last. "I expected, though, they was more pompous-behaved thanyou seem to describe. Well, they have to think o' their example, and sodoes others, for that matter. I wonder'f'mongst all they've learned todo, anybody ever showed 'em how to braid or hook 'em a nice mat. Is'pose not, but with all their hired help an' all their rags that mustcome of a year's wear, 't would be a shame for them to buy."
"I never saw any rugs just like these," said Betty, turning quickly tolook out of the window. "I don't believe people make them except inAmerica. But the princesses know how to do a good many things." It wasvery funny to Betty to think of their hooking rugs for themselves,however, but Serena's sister did not appear to suspect it.
"Land, won't I have a good time picking over those big full bags!" saidshe, looking at Aunt Barbara's rag-bags with delight, and forgetting theemployments of royalty. "Your aunt's real generous, she is so! I sortout everything into heaps on the spare floor and if I have too muchwhite I just reach for the dyepot. I do enjoy myself over thempiece-bags."
"I don't know what would become of Aunt Barbara and Aunt Mary withoutSerena," said Betty, "but I don't see how you can spare her all thetime."
"She wouldn't be spared by them," said sister Sarah, putting her head onone side like a bird. "When I was first left alone after marm's decease,folks thought she'd ought to come back, but I says No. She wouldn't becontented now same's she was before she went, and I should get wuss andwuss if I was waited on stiddy. 'No!' says I to every one, 'let me beand let her be. She's free to come, and she's puttin' by her goodearnin's. I wept all night when she first went off to Tideshead,seventeen year old, to be maid to Madam Leicester, but I knew from thatday she was set to go her way same's I was mine. But she's be'n a goodsister to me; we never passed an hour unfriendly, and 't ain't all cansay the same."
"No, indeed," said Betty cheerfully.
"Queen Victori' knows what it is to be alone," continued the littlesister. "I always read how she was a real mourner. Now I seem to enterinto her feelin's, bein' left by myself, though not a widow-woman."
Betty thought of the contrast between the Queen's life, with itsformality and crowded households, and its retinues and solemn pageantryand this empty little New England farm-house on a long hillside thatsloped eastward. It was so funny to hear the Queen discussed and to findher a familiar personage, just as one might in old England, where onewas always hearing about "our dear Queen." But to sister Sarah the Queenwas only another woman who lived alone, and had many responsibilities.
"I expect you're a regular little Britisher by this time, ain't you,Miss Betty?"
"Indeed, I'm not," answered our friend with spirit. "Papa would beashamed of me. I'm a great American. What made you think so?" SisterSarah looked pleased, but did not have anything more to offer on thesubject. "We're all English to start with, but with the glory of Americaadded on," said Betty with girlish enthusiasm. "You can't take away ourEnglish inheritance. I used to be always insisting upon that with thegirls, that Shakespeare and King Arthur were just as much ours astheirs."
"I expect you know a sight o' things I never dreamt of," said sisterSarah, "but to me what takes place in this neighborhood is just asinteresting as foreign parts. F
olks is folks, I tell 'em. There ain'tbut a few kinds, neither, but they're put into all sorts of places,ain't they?"
Betty found that her hostess had a great many entertaining things tosay, but presently there was a fear expressed lest Serena might bebeguiled into staying too long at the cousin's, and so delay the dinner.
"Let me begin; oh please let me," said Betty, springing up. She had asudden delighted instinct that it would be charming to wait upon Serenato-day and sister Sarah, and take her turn at making them comfortable.As quick as thought she turned up her skirt and pinned it behind her andsaid, "What next, if you please, ma'm," in a funny little tone copiedfrom that of a precise London damsel in Mrs. Duncan's employ, who alwaysamused the family very much.
Sister Sarah was fond of a joke, and to tell the truth this was one ofher aching days and she had been dreading to take so many steps. She sawhow pleased Betty was with her kind little plan.
"To lay the table and step lively," she answered, shaking with laughter.And Betty followed her directions until the square dinner-table stood inthe middle of the floor, covered with a nice homespun linen cloth ofwhich the history had to be told; and the old blue crockery; and Bettyhad cut just so many slices of bread, and brought just so many spicedpears from the brown jar in the cellar-way, and found the nice littlesquare piece of cold corned beef which the hostess was so glad to haveon hand, and had looked at the potatoes two or three times where theywere baking in the stove oven in the shed-room where sister Sarah didher summer cooking; all these and other things were done when Serena,out of breath, and heated with hurrying, came in at the door.
"I'm going to finish since I have begun," said Betty proudly. "Nowplease use this fan, Serena, and rest yourself, and I shall be ready ina few minutes. I'm having a beautiful good time. Which pitcher shall Itake for the fresh water?" and out she went to the cool old well underthe apple-tree.
"Now was there ever such a darlin' gal," said sister Sarah, and Serenanodded her head. "I dare say she does like to take holt. Miss Barb'ranever was one that shirked at nothing," she had time to reply beforeBetty came back and filled the tumblers and called the sisters to theirdinner.
"Sarah," said Serena decisively, as she saw how hard it was for sisterSarah to move, "you've got to get Ann Sparks, ain't ye?"
And the lame woman answered Yes.
"I hate to give up, as you know, but one of my poor times is coming on,"she said sadly.
The dinner was a great pleasure; Betty would do all the waiting, andthere was an unexpected dessert of a jelly cake which Serena had broughtwith her, being mindful of her sister's fondness for it. Betty wastouched with the sisters' delight in being together, for in spite ofwhat Miss Sarah had said about their being contented apart, she knewthat the family had seen trouble in earlier times, and that Serena'swages had been the main dependence while sister Sarah could not be happyany where but in her own home.
There never were such delicious baked potatoes, and Betty humbly waiteduntil she was perfectly sure neither of the sisters wanted the last onebefore she eagerly took it. It was delightful to be so hungry, as hungryas one could be on shipboard! And when the gay little dinner was overBetty made the hostess still play guest, and put on her apron again andcarried the plates to the shed kitchen, and found the dish pan and thesoap, and in spite of what anybody could say she washed them every oneand only let Serena wipe them and put them away. Serena entered into thespirit of the thing and was so funny and nice--making believe to beafraid they were not doing things right and that "sister Sarah wouldturn to and do 'em over again, being amazing particular."
Then when the flies were whisked out by two efficient aprons, Betty leftthe sisters to themselves for a good talk and rest, and wandered outalong the hillsides by the path Serena had taken, and there she sat andthought and looked off at the green country and at the sky. A littleblack and white dog came trotting along the path on some errand of hisown, and when he saw Betty he held up one paw and looked at her and thencame to be patted and to snuggle down by her side as if she were an oldfriend. Betty was touched by this expression of confidence and sympathy,as indeed she might be, and was sorry to say good-by to the little dogwhen it was time to go back to the house. He licked her fingersaffectionately as she gave him a last patting, and seemed disappointedbecause she left him so soon, as if he had gone trotting about the worldall his life to find her and now she was going away again. He did notoffer to follow her, but whenever she looked back there he was, sittingquite still and watching.
Jonathan was already at the house, impatient to be on his way home, andSerena's bonnet was just being taken down from its nail as Betty camein. It seemed too bad to leave sister Sarah behind, but then she had allthe piece-bags for company, as Serena said.