A Little Girl of Long Ago, Amanda Minnie Douglas [the kiss of deception read online .txt] 📗

little; but Hanny was too shy, and the conversation would have been very amusing to a spectator. But just when it was getting quite exciting, and they couldn't make each other understand at all, Hanny caught sight of Delia waving her handkerchief from the front stoop, which was a signal that dinner was ready, so they all curtsied and said good-bye.

Afterward Aunt Patty showed them her "treasures," some very odd dishes and pitchers that were more than a hundred years old, and some jewels, and the gown Aunt Clem had worn to Washington's Inauguration, and told them about Mrs. Washington and going to the old theatre in John Street. She had some beautiful combs, and buckles that her father used to wear, and kid-gloves that had long arms and came most up to her shoulders. She told the children so many entertaining stories that before the afternoon seemed half gone Mr. Underhill came for them. Nora wanted to go also.

"You can take her home with you," said Dele; "and I'll come up for her this evening. I'm just wild to see Mrs. Underhill and the boys. I hope the children have had a good time. I've hardly had a glimpse of them except at dinner."

They crossed the ferry and went over to Jersey. It was still pretty wild and country-like, but the trees and shrubs and bloom everywhere lent it a glory. The children chatted merrily, and all agreed the day was too short.

"But you can come again," said Nora.

When the Deans sprang out, Charles Reed stood by the stoop talking to Mr. Dean. Nora said the place hadn't changed a bit, and she wished she was back again. There were nothing but old people in Beach Street, and she had no little girls to play with. She didn't know what she should do when vacation came.

They were just through supper when Delia arrived, and she insisted upon sitting down at the table and having a cup of Mrs. Underhill's good tea. She was her olden jolly self, and had her brother's letters almost by heart. She thought them a great deal brighter and more amusing than those published in the "Tribune."

"But I like those," exclaimed Ben; "I'm cutting them out for a scrap-book. I just wish I was with him!"

"And he would like to have you," returned Dele. "I don't believe he ever took so much of a fancy to any one as he did to you."

They talked books a little. No, Dele had not written any more stories. The old ladies took a good deal of her time. And she had been studying. She wished she were going to school again; she should appreciate it so much more. She was reading the English essayists and Wordsworth, and learning about the great men and women.

Ben walked out to the Bowery to put them in the stage; and Dele said, rather ruefully:--

"I just wish we could study and read together. I miss The. so much, I could always ask him questions; but now I have to look up everything myself, and it's slow work."

"Dele has quite a family on her hands," said John, when she had gone. "She's getting to be rather good-looking, too. Her eyes are very fine."

"But she doesn't grow much tidier," returned his mother.

"Her hair is curly and always looks tumbled," was the half-apologising rejoinder. "But she is very bright, and she'll do something with herself."

Mrs. Underhill glanced sharply at her son. There was no danger in Ben being a little soft about Delia Whitney; but she was surprised at John's commendation.

Doctor Joe walked down to see how his patient had stood the day. Her mother had been almost afraid to have her go, lest "something might happen." She was very tired, of course, and glad to take to the reclining chair with all the pillows; but her eyes were in a glow, and her cheeks a pretty pink that Mrs. Jasper was quite sure was undue excitement.

"It was just splendid," Daisy declared; "Mamma, I do want to be like other girls, and see what is going on in the world. The old ladies were so quaint; and it was wonderful to have seen President Washington and so many famous people. And what interested me, was her talking about them just like ordinary persons. And Nora is so amusing. I want to learn French so that I can really talk it. You can't imagine how funny it was in the Park, trying to make each other understand. Oh, there are so many things I want to learn."

"There will be time enough," said her mother.

When Doctor Joe took her hand and bent over her to say good-night, she whispered softly,--

"I _did_ try to forget my own misfortune, and I was very happy. I am going to be brave. It is such a lovely world; and it is such a splendid thing to be happy. Doctor Joe, you are my Mr. Greatheart."


CHAPTER IV

A WEDDING

There was a very fine noisy Fourth of July, and shortly after that came vacation. The Jaspers were going to Lebanon Springs, and then to Saratoga. Hanny came near to envying Daisy. She and Margaret had to visit both grandmothers, and go over to Tarrytown, for the Morgans had insisted upon it.

Hanny and her father had been reading some of Washington Irving's stories, beside his famous history. He was abroad now; he had been sent as Minister to the Court of Madrid, that wonderful Spanish city with its Court so full of interest and beauty. She had been learning about it in her history. But this old house was not grand, only in its splendid elms and maples and lindens and tall arbor-vitaes. Wolfert's Roost was almost hidden by them; but you could catch glimpses of its curious roof, full of quaint corners and projections, and the old-fashioned stone mansion said to be modelled after the cocked hat of Peter the Headstrong. Its low stories were full of nooks and angles. There were roses and hollyhocks like rows of sentinels, and sweet brier clambering about. The little girl thought of it many a time afterward, when it had become much more famous, as Sunnyside. Indeed, she was to sit on the old piazza overlooking the river and listen to the pleasant voice that had charmed so many people, and study the drawings of Rip Van Winkle and Sleepy Hollow, to hear about Katrina Van Tassel, and the churn full of water that Fammetie Van Blarcom brought over from Holland because she was sure there could be no water good to drink in the new country.

Already she was coming to have a great interest in people who wrote books and stories. It seemed such a wonderful gift.

Dr. Hoffman paid the cousins the compliment of a visit. Afterward there were mysterious communings between the sisters.

Wedding presents were gifts of real preference and affection in those days. A girl had her "setting out" from home, and perhaps some one gave her an heirloom for her name, or because she was an especial favourite.

"Dr. Hoffman's well-to-do," said Joanna; "and Margaret's folks won't let her go empty-handed. But I'd like to have some of our things go where they would be appreciated. We've no one of our very own to leave them to," and Miss Morgan sighed. "Margaret doesn't consider store articles so much better than those made long ago. Let's each give her a pair of linen sheets. I've a dozen good ones now, and, land sakes! we sha'n't wear out half our bedding. And my tablecloth of the basket pattern, and two towels. And--let me see--that white wool blanket of Aunt Hetty's. It was spun and woven in 1800; and the sheep were raised here on the old farm. Some peculiar kind they were, with long, soft fleece."

"Well," said Famie, slowly, "there's my snowball tablecloth and two towels. 'Rastus's wife won't ever care for them with her fine Paris things. But we won't give away the silver, nor the old pewter flagon, nor the basin and cups. They've the crown mark on them, 1710 for a date. Deary me, they'll outlast us," and she sighed also.

Roseann agreed. Six sheets and pillow-cases, three tablecloths and half-a-dozen towels, and two blankets, one spun and woven by their own mother. The initials and date were marked on them in old-fashioned cross-stitch, which was a little more ornate than regular sampler-stitch.

Aunt Hetty's blanket had been made from the wool of an especial cosset lamb that had lost its mother and been brought up by hand. The little girl was very much interested.

"Did it follow her about?" she asked.

"Dear sakes!" and Aunt Famie laughed. "I just guess it did. It grew very troublesome, I've heard tell, and was quite quality, always wanting to come into the sitting-room. And it would curl down at Aunt Hetty's feet like a dog. She saved the wool every year, and spun it, and laid it away until she had enough. But I don't believe it went to school, although it could spell one word."

"One word!" cried the little girl, in amaze. "What was that?"

"Why b-a ba, of course. They said it could spell through the whole lesson, and I don't see why not. I've heard lambs make a dozen different sounds."

The little girl laughed. She was very fond of listening to what Aunt Famie did when she was little; and they went to call upon some curious old people who kept to the Dutch ways and wore the old costume. Some of them had wooden clogs for rainy weather. When they talked real Dutch, Hanny found it was quite different from German. They had a picture of some old ancestor's house with the windmill in the front yard.

The drives about were beautiful then, and so many places had queer old legends. Dr. Hoffman was very much interested, and it seemed to Hanny as if she had strayed over into Holland. She resolved when she went home to ask Ben to get her a history of Holland, so she and her father might read it together. Her mother never had any time.

Margaret was much surprised at her gifts, and thanked the cousins with warmest gratitude. Even Grandmother Van Kortlandt had hinted "that she wasn't going to save up everything for Haneran." But the elder people in those days were fond of holding on to their possessions until the very last.

Uncle David came up for them and took them to White Plains, where they had a nice visit; and grandmother selected some articles from her store for the prospective bride.

Hanny remembered what Cousin Archer had said about the mittens, and asked Uncle David. He found his hook, and, sure enough, it was something like a crochet-needle. He took what the little girls called single stitch. But he admitted that Hanny's pretty edgings and tidies were quite wonderful.

"I thought the Germans must have brought the knowledge to the country," she said. "How long have you known it?"

"Oh, since my boyhood," and he gave a smile. "I heard a very old man say once that Noah set his sons to work in the Ark making fishing-nets. Perhaps Mrs. Noah set her daughter-in-laws to crocheting, as you call it. Forty days was a pretty long spell of rainy weather, when they had no books or papers to read, and couldn't go out to work in the garden."

"Didn't they have any books?" Hanny's eyes opened wide.

"All their writing was done on stone tablets, and very