CHAPTER XX
A PICNIC
A reaction set in after the party, Miss Milly, over-fatigued, had hadto stay in her room. Happy House, itself, fell back into its old ways;again the blinds were shut, the flower vases disappeared and thepeacock feathers were returned to their places of honor. B'lindydeveloped rheumatism.
Too, a week followed of long hot days and stifling nights, "brewin' upfor somethin'," B'lindy declared.
Nancy, her play finished, suffered from a restlessness she had neverknown before. She told herself that, now her work was done, she mustnot linger at Happy House; then found that she could not bear to facethe thought of going! These ties that she had made bound her closely.It was not as though she might come back as they would think shecould--the separation must be forever. And the day must come whenthese good people she had grown to love would know that she haddeceived and cheated them!
"That is my punishment," she thought, in real distress.
On the morning of a day that differed only from the other cloudlessdays in that the sky was bluer and the sun hotter, Jonathan broughtNancy a letter from Mrs. Finnegan. Enclosed in it was a cable from herfather telling her that he had booked passage on the _Tourraine_,leaving Le Havre within two days.
"Oh," Nancy cried aloud, "he is _coming home_!"
So intent was she upon her letter that she did not see the rapidapproach of a shiny Ford; but at a terrific whirring and grating ofwheels and levers she turned, startled.
"Love letter?" queried Peter Hyde, jumping from the driver's seat.
"_How_ you frightened me! And why this magnificence? No, it is _not_a love-letter!" Nancy laughed joyously as she tucked it away in herpocket. Oh, why _couldn't_ she tell Peter Hyde that it was word thather dearest father was at that moment sailing home to her! (Nancycould not know that the letter had lain in Tim Finnegan's pocket forfive whole days.)
"This----" and Peter Hyde caressed his new possession, "is the latesttool at Judson's. You have no idea how many things it can do--'mosteverything except milk the cows. To-day I thought, if Miss NancyLeavitt was willing, it might take us on a picnic--say, up to Isle LaMotte. I'm beastly tired of work!"
"Oh, lovely," declared Nancy. "I've felt these last few days as thoughI wanted to rush off somewhere! Besides, I have something to tell you!"
Peter pretended alarm at her serious tone; then making her promise tobe ready within a half-hour, he drove off.
It would be very pleasant to have a last picnic with Peter Hyde. Shewould give herself one day of frolic before she faced the problem ofgetting away from Happy House. It was too hot for Aunt Milly to go outto the orchard, she would leave word with B'lindy that if Nonie camethe child should be sent to Miss Milly's room to amuse her. Andperhaps it would be wiser if she slipped away without telling AuntSabrina. Aunt Sabrina was sure to look as though, when _she_ was agirl, young ladies did not dash off on long automobile ridesunchaperoned!
Avoiding the living room and the hollyhock porch, Nancy sought outB'lindy and begged a little lunch.
"We're going for a little ride in Mr. Judson's new car, B'lindy, but wemight not get back in time for lunch--you know you never _can_ tellwhat'll happen when you start out in an automobile! A few nice jellysandwiches and a little cold chicken and some fruit cake and--tarts----"
B'lindy shook her head. "'Tain't the _lunch_ that's botherin' me,child, but I can't get the pesky idee out o' my head that somethin' isgoin' to happen! I've been feelin' that way in my bones all day andall day yesterday, too."
"B'lindy, you foolish, superstitious thing--it's your rheumatism!"
"I guess it ain't my rheumatiz, Miss Anne, and my bones generally feelsright. I ain't forgotten when Miss Milly had that accident nor whenJudson's barn burned. I thought mebbe it was poor Mis' Hopkins dyin'.Didn't you know the poor soul dropped right off in her sleep last nightand left Timothy Hopkins with those ten children to care for? I sezthis mornin' when Jonathan told me that there was no use tryin' tounderstand the ways of the Lord--ten children and that poor TimothyHopkins as helpless a body as ever was, anyway, and not much more'n'nough to feed his own stomach and no one to manage now!"
"How dreadful! Poor man." Nancy tried to make her tone sympathetic."Of course that was what your bones were feeling, B'lindy!"
B'lindy turned a truly distressed face to Nancy. "But it _wa'nt_! No,sir, right this minit my bones is feelin' worse than ever thatsomethin' is goin' to happen!" She sighed as she patted a sandwichtogether. "Lord knows mebbe it's the heat. There's somethin' brewin',Miss Anne, and you'd better keep an eye open for a storm--they come upfast in this valley!"
But Nancy refused to let B'lindy's fears or warnings dampen her gayspirits. Indeed, she promptly forgot them in the joy of dashing offover the dusty road. B'lindy's lunch was tucked away in the back;ahead stretched miles of smooth inviting highway, winding throughpleasant green meadows.
And this man who grasped the wheel of the car with such completeconfidence, who seemed bent upon nothing more important than making thelittle hand of the speedometer climb higher and higher--this was a newPeter Hyde, unfamiliar and yet strangely familiar in that now heresembled the dozens of other young men Nancy had known.
Nancy felt suddenly shy. Always before, when with Peter, she hadenjoyed the least bit of a feeling of superiority, that she wasgraciously bringing, with her friendship, much into a life that must,because it was limited to Judson's farm, often seem dull and empty.But it was not easy to feel that way toward this very good-lookingyoung man in immaculate blue serge who tended to her comfort with theassurance of a person quite accustomed to taking young ladies onautomobile picnics!
Because they were both young, because the breeze blowing deliciouslyagainst their faces was fragrant with summer smells, their hearts werelight; they chattered merrily, as young people will, about everythingunder the sun, then lapsed into pleasant silences, broken only by theregular humming of the engine.
However, after a little, these silences irritated Nancy. Peeping froma corner of her eye at Peter Hyde's blonde head, she was annoyed by anoverwhelming curiosity as to what was going on, within it! What _was_the mystery concealed behind that pleasant mask? And why, when theyseemed such good friends, could he not tell her?
Then she suddenly realized, with a quick sense of shame, that she, too,was concealing much from Peter Hyde!
As they rode along he pointed out old landmarks with the familiarity ofa life-long Islander. He admitted that history fascinated him. "Notin books as much as when you can hook it up with the very ground you'rewalking on! Look at that lake over there--can't you picture it coveredwith the canoes of the Indians? They used to come around here inflotillas--the Iroquois, the Algonquins and the Hurons, alwaysfighting. Great lot they were--scrapping all the time!"
He seemed to have at his tongue's end some interesting bit ofinformation about every spot they passed. As they wandered around IsleLa Motte, he told how on this little Island Champlain had first landedon his voyage down into the valley. He explained that a Jesuit missionhad been established there as far back as 1660, long before any otherwhite men had ventured into the wilderness.
They visited the ruins of Fort Ste. Anne on Sandy Point and the littlechapel with its cross, to which, on the Feast of Ste. Anne, camepilgrims from great distances, to pray at the shrine.
"We think this America of ours is so young," he laughed. "And here weare living on soil that has been consecrated by brave sacrifices ofcenturies ago! Not so bad."
Driving homeward their backs were turned to the little ominous pile ofclouds darkening a corner of the blue sky. At a spot where the roadran close to the edge of the lake, under a wide-spreading maple tree,they laid out B'lindy's lunch.
"Now I'll tell him I'm going," Nancy vowed to herself, with a littleunaccountable fluttering.
He was on his knees before the picnic box. She could not see his face.
"Peter!" She had not realized how hard it was going to be to s
ay it."I'm--going--away! Really."
She had expected that he would be startled--show real consternation.Her going _must_ make a difference in his life at Freedom--there wereno other young people to take her place.
He was surprised; he held a jelly sandwich suspended for a moment, asthough waiting for her to say something more. Then he laid it down ona paper plate.
"White meat or dark meat," he asked.
Nancy could not know that he was not really concerned as to whether shepreferred white meat or dark meat, that his indifference was, indeed,covering a moment's inability to express his real feelings. She wassuddenly angry--angry at herself more than at Peter Hyde!
"Of course I shall hate to go, I have grown very fond of Aunt Sabrinaand Aunt Milly and B'lindy--and dear little Nonie. It's hardest toleave her!"
"They'll miss you. You've changed Happy House. And Nonie's adifferent child."
"He's very careful not to say he'll miss me," thought Nancy withchildish pique. Then, aloud: "But I can't stay at Happy House forever.I only planned to spend three weeks there at the most and it's beensix. And it seems as though I'd been there ages! I suppose one day onthe Islands is like a week in the cities, where you live right next topeople and never really touch their lives. However, it's in the rushof the cities I belong; I should _die_ if I had to stay here!" Shewanted him to understand that the attractions of Happy House could nothold her; she wanted to punish him for that abstraction that she hadthought indifference.
"Judson's will be a dull hole without you at Happy House, Nancy," Peterput in, gravely.
She laughed lightly. "By Christmas you will have forgotten all aboutme! Anyway, you will have Miss Denny."
With wicked delight over his embarrassment Nancy told him of Nonie'splan that Miss Denny should be Mr. Peter's "dearest."
"Your fate is as plain as the nose on my face," she laughed,tantalizingly. "You won't have to cross my palm with silver to knowyour future, Mr. Hyde! A cottage on the ten-acre piece where you willlive happily--ever afterward. As a wedding gift, with my best wishes,I'll give you the Bird's-Nest."
She dodged the drum-stick that Peter threw at her. "You are not at allgrateful for the nice fortune I'm giving you," she declared.
"I am, indeed! Though it doesn't seem quite fair for me to make toomany plans without consulting Miss Denny, and I've never seen the lady.She may be old and ugly, black--or yellow."
"I'll tell you--if you'll promise not to tell that I've told! She _is_old and ugly; she's blind in one eye and stutters and limps and hasstraggly gray hair and----"
"For Heaven's sake, stop! When all my life I've been looking for agirl with brown hair that looks sort of red and freckles--about threethousand of them!"
"Peter!" Nancy sprang precipitously to her feet. "Look--there is astorm coming!"
B'lindy's threatened storm was approaching swiftly. The black cloudthat had been piling up behind them now overspread the whole westernsky. "What a shame--to have it spoil our day! This has been such fun.I'll never forget it, after I've gone." Then, hastily, "Gather up thenapkins and the baskets; I promised B'lindy I'd bring them home! Isn'tthere a short cut home? I'm really dreadfully afraid of lightning."But she had caught something in the expression of Peter Hyde's facethat frightened her more than the threatened storm.
"Let's hurry," she cried, running unceremoniously to the automobile.