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HOLMES, Atitlm- of " Fonext Hotm;' "Edith Lffle,'' " Mildred:' Etc., Etc. UOSE-BELFORD PUBLISHING COMPANY. MDC'CCLXXXI. YrosT CONTKNTS. ».% »^.^.•\.^,■^.^.^.^,^xx^,^^,« CHAPTER. PACJK I. — Introducing Some op the Chakacters 5 II. — Introducing More of the Characterh 12 III. — Mr. Beresvobd and Phil 21 IV. — The Investigation 25 V. — Phil. Intervxew« His Grandmother 31 VI. — Getting Ready for Reinbtte 37 VII.- On THE Sea 44 VIII. — Rbinette Arrives 54 IX. — Rbinette at Home 54 X. — The Two Reinettes 58 XL— On THE Rocks 69 XII. — Reinette and Mr. Beresforo 75 , XLII.— These People 83 XIV. — Rbinette and Phil 92 XV.— Down by the Sea 105 XVI.— Margery La Rub 108 XVII.— QUBENIB AND MaR«BRY 1 16 XVIII.— Old Lbttbrs 127 XIX.— Thb Little Lady of Hetherton . 138 XX.— Arrivals in Mbrrivalb 145 XXL— Thb Dinner 163 XXII. — Margery and the People 157 XXIII. — Perfecting Themselves in French 161 XXIV.—* I Love You Qubbnib.' 165 XXV —Phil. 's Wooing 170 XXVI.— Phil. Gobs Away 179 IT CONTENTS. CHAPTKK. XXVII.- XXVIII.- XXIX.- XXX. XXXI.- XXXII.- XXXIII.- XXXIV.- * XXXV.- XXXVI.- XXXVII.- XXXVIIL- XXXIX.- XL. XLl.- XLIL- XLIII.- XLIV. XLV. XLVI. XLVII. XLVIII. XLIX. L. LI. LII. LIII. PAOK —How QuBBNiE Bore the Newh 183 -Mrs. La Rub'h Resolution 188 —Letters from Mbntonb 194 -Trying to Read the Page 203 —The Interview 211 — Christine 216 -Kbinette's Interview With Margery 226 -Rbinette'h Interview With Christine , -. 231 —Margery and Her Mother 242 -Margery's Illness 248 -Poor Phil 262 -The Lettbr 269 —Mourning for Phil 276 —Christine Goes to Hetherton Plage 284 -Tina 291 -The Letters 295 -QuEENiE Learns the Truth 302 —Christine's Story 312 —The Two Sisters 324 -The Explosion 329 — Magnolia Park 344 —At the St. Jambs 354 —The Yellow Fever 364 — The Occupant of No. 40 374 — Sister Christine 382 — Phil.'s Story ; . . 389 — Conclusion 398 PAOK . 183 . 188 . 194 . 203 211 215 226 231 242 248 262 269 276 284 291 295 302 312 324 329 344 354 364 374 382 389 398 QUEENIE HETHERTON. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCING SOME OF THE CHARACTEBS. I HE morning mail from Merrivale had just arrived, but there were very few letters to-day. Colonel Rossiter, ^ who lived in the large stone house on the Knoll, by which name the place was called, had two ; one from hia wife, who, with his two daughters, was spending the summer at Martha's Vineyard, and one from his son Philip, a young grad- uate from Harvard, who had been off on a yachting excursion, and was coming home for a few days before joining his mother and sisters at the sea-side. There was also one from Mrs. Lydia Ann Ferguson, who lived on Cottage Row, and who, if the sign in her window was to be believed, was the fashionable dressmaker of the town. Mr. Arthur Beresford, the only practising lawyer in Merrivale, had six, five of them on busi- ness, and these he read hastily, as he stood in the post-office door, and then for a moment studied the superscription of the other, which was soiled and travel-worn, and' bore a foreign post-mark. 'From Mr. Hefcherton, sure,' he said to himself. 'What can he want, I wonder 1 Not money, for it is only six w«eks since I remitted to him what was due from the rental of his building.' Opening the letter at last he read as follows : * Hotel Mkukice, Paris, June lOtb, 18—. * Mb. Bbiumfoud : * Dear Sir : — ^You will imdoubtedly be surprised to hear that I am coining home. Once I expected to live and die abroad, but r»* cently, with my failing health,] there has come oyer me a feeling I 6 QUEENIE HETHERTON. which, were I a boy, I should call home-sickness, and which at least is an intense longing to see America once more. ' After an abMnoe of nearly twenty-three years, it will seem almost as strange to me as to my daughter Reinette, who, though over twenty years of age, has never ^n in an English-spedcing country. She is as anxious to come as I am, and we have engaged passage on the iSiMsia, which sails from Liverpool, the 26th. I have no idea whether the old house is habitable or not. All important changes and repairs I prefer to make myself, after Reinette has seen it and decided what she wants ; but, if possible, I wish you to make a few rooms comfortable for us. The large chamber which looks towards the town and the river I design lor Reinette, and will you see that it is made pretty and attractive, so that she will have a good first impression. If I remember rightly, there used to be in it a mahogany bedstead older than I am. Remove it, and substitute something li^ht and airy in its place. Reinette does not like mahoffany. Put simple muslin curtains at the windows, and have nothmg but matting on the floors ; Reinette detests carpets. And if you Imow of a pair of fine carriage horses and a lady's saddle pony, have them ready for inspection, and if they suit Keinette I will take them. If you chance to hear of a trusty, middle-aged woman suitable for a housekeeper at Hetherton Place, retain her till Reinette can see her ; and please have the conservatory and garden full of flowers. Reinette is passionately fond of flowers — fond, in fact, of everything bright and pretty. She has just come in, and says tell you to be sure and get some cats and dogs, so I suppose you must do it ; but, for Heaven's sake, don't fill the house with them — two or three will answer. I can't abide them mysdf. Reinette is waiting for me to go to dinner, so I must dose. Shall telegraph to you from New York as soon as the vessel arrives, and shaU follow on first train. 'Truly, Fredebick Hbthebtov. * Spare no money to make the place comfortable.' Arthur Beresford's face was a puzzle as he read this letter from one whose business agent and lawyer he merely was, and whom be scarcely remembered at all except as a dashing, hand- some young man, whom everybody called fast, and whom some called a scamp. * Cool, upon my word ! ' he thought, as he folded the letter and returned it to his pocket. ' A nice little job he has given me to do. Clean the house ; air Miss Reinette's bed-chamber; move the old worm-eaten mahogany furniture, and substitute 'Something light and cheerful which Reinette will like ; put .> INTRODUCING SOME OF THE CHARACTERS, 7 muslin curtains to her windows ; get up a lot of horses for hor inspection ; housekeeper, do. ; fill the garden with flowei's, where there's nothing but nettles and weeds growing now ; and, to crown all, hunt up for Miss Reinette a menagerie of dogs and cats, when, if there is one animal more than another of which I have a mortal terror, it is a cat. And this girl, this Keinette, is passionately fond of them. Who is she, any way 1 I never heard before that Mr. Hetherton had a daughter; neither, I am sure, did the Rossiters or Fergusons. Mrs. Peggy would be ready enough to talk of her Paris grand-daughter, if she had one. But we shall see. Mr.-Hetherton's letter has been delayed. He sails the 25th. That is day after to-mor- row, so I've no time t«) lose, if I get everything done, cats and all. I wish he had given the job to somebody else. Phil. Rossiter, now, is just the chap to see it through. He'd know exactly how to loop the curtains back, while as for catSy I have actually seen the fellow fondling one in his arms. U^h ! ' and the young lawyer made an impatient gesture with his hands, as if shaking off an imaginary cat. Just at this point in his soliloquy. Colonel Rossiter, who had been leisurely reading his two letters inside the office, came out, and rememberins that he was a connection by marriage with the Hethertons, Mr. Beresford detained him for a moment by laying a hand on his arm, and thus making him stand still while he explained about the letter, and asked what he thought of it. ' Think 1 ' returned the colonel, trying to get away from his companion-^' I don't think anything ; I'm in too deuced a hurry to think — a very deuced hurry, Mr. Beresford, and you must ex- cuse me from taking an active part in anything. I really have not the time. Fred. Hetherton has a right to come home if he wants to — yes, certainly, a perfect right. I never liked him much — a stuck-up chap, who thought the Lord made the world for the special use of the Hethertons, and not a deuced Rossiter in it. No, no ; I'm in too great a hurry to think whether I ever heafd of a daughter or not — impression that I didn't ; but he might have forty, you know. Go to the Fergusons ; they are sure to bo posted, and so is Phil., my son By the way, he's coming home on next train. Consult him ; he's just the one ; he's nothing else to do, more's the pity. And now, QUEEN! E HETHERTON. really, Mr. Beresford, you must let me go. I've spent a most uncommon length of time talking with you, and I bid you good-morning.' And so saying, the colonel, who among his many peculiari- ties numbered that of being always in a hurry, though he really had nothing to do, started toward home at a rapid pace, as if resolved to make up for the time he had lost in un- necessary talk. Mr. Beresford looked after him a moment, and then remem- bering what he had said of Philip, decided to defer his visit to Hetherton Place until he had seen the young man. Two hours later, the Boston train stopped at the station, and Phil. Rossiter came up the long hill at his usual rapid, swinging gait, attracti*)g agood deal of attention in his handsome yacht- ing-dress, which became him so well. The first person to accost him was his aunt, Mrs. Lydia Ann I srguson, who in- sisted upon his stopping for a moment, as she had a favour to ask of him. Phil, was the best natured fellow in the world, and accustomed to have favours asked of him, but he was tired, and hot, and in a hurry to reach the quiet and coolness of his own home, which was far pleasanter, and more suited to his taste than the close, stuffy apartment, with vm large- patterned carpet, and turkey-red curtains, into which Mic. Ferguson led him, and where his cousin sat working on a customer's dress. Anna Ferguson, who had been called for her mother, but had long ago discarded Lydia as too old-fashioned, and adopted the name of Anna, was eighteen, and a blue-eyed, yellow-haired blonde, who would have been very pretty but for the constant smirk about her mouth, and the affected air she always assumed in the presence of her superiors. Even with Phil, she was never at her ease, and she began at once to apologize for her hair, which was in crimping-pins, and for her appearance generally. ' Ma never ought to have asked you into the work-room, and me in such a plight. But, then, you know Ma. She'd have done the same if it had been Mr. Beresford, I do believe. She's no sensibility, Ma hasn't.' This in an aside to Phil, who assured her that he did not mind the work-room, and did not care for crimping-pins — he'd seen bushels of them, he presumed. ; i i INTRODUCim SOME OF THE CHARACTERS. 9 But what did his aunt want 1 he was in something of a hurry to get home, as his father was expecting him, and would won- der at his delay. Phil, knew he was stretching the truth a little, for it was not at all likely his father would give him a thought until he saw him ; but any excuse would answer to get away from the Fer- gusons, with whom at heart he had little sympathy. What Mrs. Ferguson wanted was to know if he had ever heard his mother or sisters speak of a dressmaker at Martha's Vineyard, a Miss Margery La Rue, who was a Frenchwoman, and who had written to Mrs. Ferguson, asking if she wished to sell out her business, and if it would pay for a first-class crmtwrihe to come to Merrivale. ' Now, what under the sun a cootoory is, I don't know,* Mrs. Ferguson said, * neither does Anny, and she's been away to school three quarters ; but here's her letter, read it for yourself if you can. Anny and me found it hard work to make it out, the writing is so finefied.' Philip took the letter, which was written in that fine, pecu- liar hand common to the French, and which was a little diffi- cult at first to decipher. But the language t as in good English, and well expressed, and the writer. Miss Margery La Rue, late from Paris, wished to know if there was an opening for a dressmaker in Merrivale, and if Mrs. Ferguson wished to sell out, as Miss La Rue had been told she did. * I wish to mercy Ma would get out of the hateful business and take that horrid sign out of her window. I'd split it up quick for kindlings. I'm always ashamed when I see it/ Miss Anna said, petulantly, for she was foolish enough and weak enough to ascribe all her fancied slights to the fact that her mother was a dress-maker and had a sign in her window. Mrs. Ferguson, however, did not share in this feeling, and reprimanded her ambitious daughter sharply, while Philip, who knew how sore she was upon the point, asked her if she really thought she would be any better with the obnoxious sign gone and her mother out of the business. ' Of course / wouldn't be any better. I'm just as good as anybody now,' Miss Anna retorted, with a toss of her head. * But you know as well as I that folks don't think so, and Ma and I are not invited a quarter of the time just becaus* wa art 10 QVEENIE HETEERTOS. poor and work for a living. Even your sisters Ethel and Grace would not notice me if I wasn't their cousin. As it is, they feel obliged to pay me some attention. I hate the whole thing, and I hope I shall live to see the day when I can go to the sea-side, and wear handsome dresses and diamonds, and have a girl to wash the dishes and wait on me. There's the bell, now : somebody to get some work done, of course,' and Anna flounced out of the room to wait upon a customer, while her mother asked Philip again if he had ever heard his sisters speak of Miss La Rue, saying they must have told her of her- self and of Merrivale. Philip never had, but promised to inquire about her when he went to the Vineyard as he intended doing in a few days. Then, not caring for a second encounter with the golden- haired blonde, he went out of the side door, and so escaped into the street, breathing freer in the open air, and wondering why Anna need always to bother him about being slighted be- cause she was poor, as if it made any matter if only a person was nice and behaved himself properly. Mr. Beresford was the next to accost Phil, and as the Heth- erton business was uppermost in his mind, he walked home with the young man and opened the subject at once by telling him of the letter, and asking him if he had ever heard of Rei- nette Hetherton. * Reinette Hetherton — Reinette,' Philip repeated. * No, never ; but that's a pretty name, and means *' little queen." I wonder what kind of a craft she is ) Frenchy, of course, and I hate the French. She must be my cousiir, too, as I have never heard that Mr. Hetherton married a second time. When will she be here ? ' Phil, was inteiested in the girl at once, but Mr. Beresford, who was several years older, was more interested in the numer- ous arrangements he was to make for her reception. They had reached the Knoll by this time, and were met in the hall by the colonel, who did not manifest the least annoyance because of Mr. Beresford's presence, but, on the contrary, seemed glad to have him there as it relieved him from any prolonged stay with his son. ' Eh, Phil, glad to see you, ' he said. ^ Hope you had a pleasant time ; ' then, in an absent kind of way, with a move ' ' i(i| INTRODUCING SOME OF THE CHARACTERS. 11 of his hand, ' make yourself at home. You are quite welcome, I am sure, both of you ' ; bowing to Mr. Beresford. ' And now, if you'll excuse me, I will leave you. Shall see ypu at lunch time, good morning, gentlemen ; ' and with another very courtly bow, he walked rapidly away to the ereen-house, where he was watching the development of a new kind of bean found in Florida the previous winter. Lefb to themselves, the two young men resumed their con- versation concerning Reinette Hetherton, and Mr. Beresford showed Phil, her father's letter. * Upon my word, ' said Phil. ' one would suppose this Rei- nette to be a very queen, the way her father refers to her. Everything must bend to her wishes ; bedstead, matting, flow- ers, housekeeper, horses, and cats and dogs ; that's rich ; but FU take the last job off your hands. I know of a whole litter of young puppies, which I'll have in readiness for her, besides half a dozen or more cats. ' * Yes, thank you. I am sure I shall be glad to be rid of the cat business, ' said Mr. Beresford, < but tell me, please, about Mrs. Hetherton, Iteinette's mother, I was too much of a boy when she went away, and you, of course, were younger still, but you must have heard it from your mother. They were sis- ters, I think.' * No, only half,' Philip replied. ' My grandfather Ferguson was twice married, and mother was the child of his first wife. Grandma Ferguson, as most everybody calls her, is only my step-grandmother, and Mrs. Hetherton was her daughter Mar- garet, and, as I've heard, the most beautiful girl in Merri-' vale. It was her beauty, of course, which attracted Mr. Heth- erton, and I imagine it was a love match, for he was proud as Lu- cifer and very rich, while she was poor — and-^iand — well, she was a Ferguson, ' and Philip chanced colour a little as he said this ; then, as Mr. Beresford looked curiously at him, he added, laughingly, ' Not that I am in the least ashamed of my rela- tives, for I am not. They do not affect me one whit. I am just what I am, and a cart-load of Fergusons can't hurt me, though I'll confess that grandma and Aunt Lydia do try me at times, but wait and see what Miss Reinette thinks of them. She's qIJ Ferguson on one side of the house ; no hi^lf blood 12 QUESNIE HEIHERTOK there. When are you going over to investigate the place, and wouldn't you like me to go with you 1 ' Nothing could suit Mr. Beresford better, for though he was several years older than Phil, the two were fast friends, and later in the day, when it was beginning to grow cool, they rode together toward * Hetherton Place, ' which had been tenantless since the death of old General Hetherton, which had occurred ten or twelve years before. CHAPTER II. INTRODUCIXO MORE OF THE OHARAGTERS. ETHERTON Place was nearly a mile distant from the village, and on the side of a hill, the ascent of which was so gradual that on reaching the top one was al- ways surprised to find himself so far above the surrounding country, of which there were most delightful views. Turn which way you would the eye was met with lovely landscape pictures of grassy meadows and plains, of wooded hill-sides, sloping down to the river's brink, and stretching away to the sandy shores of the ponds or little lakes, which, when the morning sun was shining on them, sparkled like so many dia- monds on the sunny valley of M errivale, where our story opens. Merrivale was not a very large or very stirring town, for its sons and daughters had a habit of turning their backs upon the old home and seeking their fortunes in the larger cities or in the West, where nature seems to be kinder and more con- siderate to her children, in that her harvests there yield richer stores with less of that toil of the hands and sweat of the brow so necessary among the rocky hills of New England. There ¥»ere no factories in Merrivale, for the waters of the lazily-flow- ing Chicopee were insufficient for that, but there were shoe- shops there, and the men who worked in them lived mostlv in small, neat houses on Cottage Row, or on the new streets wnicb were gradually creeping down the hill to the riv«r and th« INTRODUCINO MORE OF THE CHARACTERS. 13 railroad track, over which almost every hour of the day heavily laden trains went rolling on to the westward. Years and years ago, when the Indians still lurked in the woods around Merrivale, and hears were hunted on Wachuset Mt., and the howl of the wolf was sometimes heard in the marshy swamp around old Cranberry Pond, the entire town, it is said, was owned by the Hethertons, who were aristocrats to the back-bone, and who traced their ancestry in a direct line back as far as the Norman Conquest. Theirs, of course, was the bluest blood in Merrivale, and theirs the heaviest purse ; but purses will grow light in time, and blood grow weak as well, and the Hetherton race had died out one by one, until, so far as anybody knew, there was but a single member re- maining, and he as good as dead, for any good he did to the peopk of Merrivale. For nearly twenty-three years Frederick betherton had lived abroad, and during that time, with one exception, he had never communicated with a single individual except his lawyers, the Beresfords — first Henry, the elder, who had been his friend and colleague, and, after his death, with Arthur, the younger, who succeeded to his brother's business. When Frederick first came home from college he was a dash- ing, handsome young man, with something very fascinating in his voice and manner ; but to the young girls of Merrivale he was like the moon to the humble brook on which it shines, but always looks down. They could watch, and admire, and look up to him from a distance, but never hope for anything like an intimate recognition, for the Hethertons held themselves so high that very few were admitted to the charmed circle of their acquaintance. Mrs. Hetherton, Frederick's mother, had come from the vicinity of Tellehassee, and with the best blood of Florida in her veins, was, if possible, more exclusive than her husband, and laboured assiduously to instil her aristocratic notions into the mind of her son. After her death, however, whether it was that he found life at Hetherton Place too lonely, or that he missed her counsels and instructions, he was oftener with the young people of Merrivale ; and rumours were at last afloat of frequent meet- ings between the heir of Hetherton and Margaret Ferguson, whoM father was a stone mason, but a perfectly honest, up- u QUEEN IE IlETHERTON, \ right, and respectable man, and whose mother was then familiarly known in the community as the Aunt Peggy who sold root beer and gingerbread in the summer time, and Boston brown bread and baked beans in the winter. During Mrs. Hetherton's lifetime her carriage had occasion- ally stopped before the shop door while she bartered with Peggy for buns and cakes ; but anything like social acquaint* ance of the Fergusons the lady would have spurned with con« tempt. Great, therefore, was her astonishment when Col. Paul Ros- siter, who had been educated at West Point, and whom, in a way, she acknowledged as her equal, fell in love with and mar- ried Mary Ferguson, who was the child of her father's first marriage, and in no way related to Peggy, and who was quite as well educated as most of the girls in town, and far prettier than any of them. The Fergusons were all good-looking, with a fair, Saxon type of beauty, and Mary's dazzling complexion and soft blue eyes caught the fancy of Col. Rossiter the first time he reined his horse in front of the shop where small beer and gingerbread were sold. Col. Rossiter at that time was thirty-five or more, and had never evinced the slightest interest in any one of the opposite sex. Indeed, he rather shunned the society of ladies and was looked upon by them as a very peculiar and misanthropical person. He belonged to a good family, was an orphan and rich, and had no one's wishes to consult but his own ; and so, after that first call at Peggy's establishment, when Mary enter- tained and waited upon him, it was remarked that he seemed very fond of small beer, and that it took him some time to drink it, for his chestnut mare was often tied before the shop door for half an hour or more, while he sat in the little room where Mary was busy with the shoes she stitched, or cloudy as they called it, for the large shoe-shop near by. . At last the gossip reached Mrs. Hetherton, whose guest the colonel was, and who felt it her duty to remonstrate seriously with the gentleman. The colonel listened to her in a dazed kind of way, until she said, although no harm would come to Aim, he certainly could not wish to damage the girl's good name by attentions which were not honourable. Then he roused up, and without a word of reply, started for V ' INTRODUCING MORE OF THE CHARACTERS. 15 town, and entering Peggie's shop, strode on to the back room, where Mary sat at her work, with her gingham apron on and her hands besmeared with the shoemaker's wa^. she was obliged to use in her work. They were, nevertheless, very pretty hands, small, and white, and dimpled, and somehow the colonel got them both between his own, and before the astonished girl knew what he was about, he had asked her to be his wife, and told her how happy he would make her, provided she would forsake all her family connections and cleave only unto him. ' I do not mean that you are never to see them,' he said, * but anything like intimacy would be very undesirable, for there would be a great difference between your position as my wife and theirs, and ' He did not finish the sentence, for Mary had disengaged her hands from his by this time, and he always insisted that she struck at him, as she rose from her seat and, with flashing eyes, looked him straight in the face, while she said : * Thank you. Col. Rossiter. You have said enough for me to understand you fully. You may be proud, but I am prouder still, and I decline your offer, which, the way you made it, was more an insult than an honour. I know I am poor, and that father is only a day labourer, but a better, truer, worthier man never lived, and I hate you for thinking to make me ashamed of him ; while his wife, though not my mother, has always been kind to me, and I will never turn my back upon her, never ! The man who marries me will marry my family, too, or, at least, will recognise them. I wish you good*morning, sir," and she walked from the room with all the hauteur of an offended duchess, leaving the crest-fallen colonel alone, and very much bewildered and uncertain as to what had happened. It came to him at last that he was refused by Mary Ferguson, the girl who closed shoes for a living, and whose step-mother made and sold root beer. ' Is the girl crazy ) ' he asked himself, as he precipitately left the house. ' Dbes she know what she was about to refuse me — me who would have made her a lady ! And she says she hates me, because I will not marry her family. Well, well, it's my first experience at love-making, and I think it will be my last.' But it was not, for Mary Ferguson's blue eyes had played I ; I 1 I t [ l[ I 16 qUEENJR IlETllFAiTOIft, the very mischief with the colonel's heart-strings, and he could not give her up, and the next day he told her so in a letter of three pages, which she promptly returned to him, with the words : * The man who marries me must recognise my family.' A week went by, and then the colonel sent his love a letter of six pages, in \.hich he capitulated generally. Not only would he recognise the family, but in proof thereof, he would buy the large stone houpe called the Knoll, which was at present unoccupied, and he had heard for sale. Here they would live, in the summer at least, and during the winter she might like Boston for a change, but he would not insist upon anything which did not meet her approval. All he wanted was herself, and that he must have. This was a concession, and Mary, who, while standing by her family, had not been insensible to the good fortune offered her, surrendered, and in less than a month was Mrs. Colonel Ros- siter, and mistress of the handsome stone house, where her father was always made welcome, and her stepmother treated with kindness and consideration. We have dwelt thus long upon the wooing and wedding of the colonel, because the Rossiters and Fergusons have as much to do with this story as the Hethertons, and because the mar- riage of Mary Ferguson was the means of bringing about another marriage, without which Reinette, our dainty little queen, could never have been the heroine of this romance. Mary would hardlv have been human if her sudden elevation to riches and rank had not affected her somewhat. It did affect her to a certain extent, though the villagers who watched her curiously agreed that it did not turn her head, and that she fitted won- derfully well in her new place. * Acts for all the world as if she was born to that grandness, and ain't an atom ashamed of me, nuther,* Mrs. Peggy said, never once suspecting that Mrs. Rossiter, as she mingled more and more in her husband's world, did sometimes shiver, and gro.w cold and faint at her old-fashioned ways and modes of speech. As for the father he enjoyed to the full seeing his daughter a lady, but laughed at her endeavours to mould and polish him. ' Tain't no use, MoUie," he would say. ' You can't make a hll:t INTRODUCING MORE OF THE CHARACTERS. 17 whistle of a pig's tail, and you can't make a gentleman of me. My hard old hands have worked too long in stone and mortar to be cramped up in gloves or to handle them wide forks of yourn. I shall alius eat with my knife ; it comes nateral-Iike and easy, and shall drink my tea in my sasser. But I like to see you go through with the jimcracks, and think you orter, if the colonel wants you to. You alius had the makin' of a lady when even your hands, where the diamond is now, was cut and soiled with h :d waxed ends, and nobody '11 think the wus of you, unless it's some low-minded, jealous person who, when they see you in your best silk gownd, may say how you was once poor as you could be, and closed nigger shoes for a livin'. That's human nater, and don't amount to nothin'. But, Mollie, though you can't lift Peggy nor me, there's your sister Margaret growing up as pretty and smart a gal as there is in Merrivale. You can give her a hist if you will, and mebby she'll make as good a match as you. She's the prettiest creetur I ever see.* And in this John Ferguson was right, for Margaret was even more beautiful than her sister Mary. To the same dazzling purity of complexion, and large, lustrous blue eyes, she added a sweetness of expression and a softness of manner and speech unusual in one who had seen so little of the world, and which procured for her the sobriquet of ' The Rose of Merrivale.' Mrs. Rossiter, who was allowed to do whatever she pleased, acted upon her father's suggestion and had her sister often with her, and took her to Boston for a winter, and to Saratoga for a sefuson, and it was in the Rossiter carriage that Frederick Hetherton first remarked the fresh, lovely young face which was to be his destiny. He might, and probably had, seen it before in church, or in the shop where he occasionally went for beer; but it had never struck him just as it did now, framed in the pretty chip hat, with the blue ribbons vieing with the deeper, clearer blue of the large bright eyes which flashed a smile upon him as he involuntarily lifted his hat. Fred. Hetherton was very fond of pretty faces, and^ it was whispered that he did not always follow them for good, and there were rumours afloat of large sums of money paid by his father for some of his love affairs; but, however that might be, his intentions were always strictly honourable with regard to Margaret Ferguson. At first his pride was greatly shocked 18 QUEEN IE HETHERTON. ; ■ ■ \V. when he learned who she was, for he was quite as proud as any of the Hethertons, and he shrank from Aunt Peggy more than Mr. Kossiter had done. But Margaret's beauty overcame every scruple at last, and when his father, who had heard some- thing of it in town, asked him if it were true that he was run- ning after old Ferguson's daughter, he answered boldly, ' Yes, and I intend to make her my wife.' A terrible scene ensued, and words were spoken which should never have passed between father and son, and the next day Fred. Hetherton was missing from his home and Margaret Ferguson was missing from her's,and two days later Aunt Peggy donned her best clothes and went over to Hetherton Place and claimed relationship with its ovmer by virtue of a letter received from her daughter who said she was married the previous day, and signed herself 'Margaret Hetherton.' Then the father swore his biggest oaths; said his son was his no longer; that he was glad his wife had died ^before she knew of the disgrace, and ended by turning Peggy from his door and bidding her never dare claim acquaintance with him, much less relationship. What he wrote to his son in reply to a letter received from him announcing his marriage no one ever knew ; but the result of it was that Frederick determined to go abroad at once, and wrote his father to that effect, adding that, with the fortune left him by his mother, he could live in luxury abroad, and asked no odds of his father. TEis was true, and Mr. Hether- ton had no redress, but walked the floor of his great lonely rooms foaming with rage and gnashing his teeth ; while the Fergusons were crying over the letter sent to them by Mar- garet who was then in New York, and who wrote of their intended departure for Europe. She was very happy, she said, though she did want to come home for a few days, just to bid them good-bye, but Frederick would not allow it. She would write them often, and never, never forget them. Then came a few lines written on ship-board, and a few more from Paris, telling of terrible home-sickness, and of Frederick's kindness, and the pearls and blue silk dress he had bought her. Then followed an interval of silence, and when Margaret wrote again a change seemed to have come over her, and her letters were stilted and constrained like those of a person writing under restraint, but showed signs of '■■r,;r.tWr»,. INTRODUCING MORE OF THE CHARACTERS 19 culture and improvement. She was still in Paris, and had roasters in French and music and dancing, but of her husband she said very little except that he was well, and once that he had gone to Switzerland with a party of French and English, leaving her alone with a waiting-maid whom she described as a paragon of goodness. To this letter Mrs. Rossiter replied, asking her sister if she were really content and happy, but there came no response, and nothing more was heard from Margaret until she wrote of failing health, and that she was going to Italy to see what a milder climate would do for her. Weeks and weeks went by, and then Mr. Uetherton himself wrote to Mr. Ferguson as follows : * Geneva, Switzerland, May 36th, 18 — . ' Mr. Ferguson, — Your daughter Margaret died suddenly of consumption in Kome, the 20th of last month, and was buried in the Protestant burying ground. Yours, *F. Hethbrton.' Nothing could be colder or more unsatisfactory than were these brief lines to the sorrowing parents, to whom it would have been some comfort to know how their daughter died, and who was with her at the last, and if she had a thought or word for the friends across the water, who would never see her again. But this solace was denied them, for though Mrs. Rossiter wrote twice to the old address of Mrs. Hetherton in Paris, she never received a reply, and so the years passed on, and the his- tory of poor Margaret's short married life and death was still shrouded in mystery and gloom, when General Hetherton died without a will ; and, as a matter-of-course, his property went to his only child, who, so far as the people knew, had never sent him a line since he had lived abroad. Upon the elder Mr. Beresford, who had been the general's legal adviser, devolved the duty of hunting up the heir, who was found living in Paris and who wrote |to Mr. Beresford, asking him to take charge of the estate and remit to him semi- annually whatever income there might be accruing from it The house itself was to be shut up, as Frederick wrote that he cared little if the old rookery rotted to the ground. He should never go back to live in it : nev3r return to America at all, but he would neither have it sold or rented, he said. And so it stood I III > 20 QUEEN IE HETHERTON. empty year after year, and the damp and mould gathered upon the roof, and the boys made the windows a target for stonea and brick-bats, and swallows built their nests in the wide- mouthed chimneys, and the bats and owls flew unmolested through the rooms, where once the aristocratic Mrs. Hetherton trailed her velvet gowns ; and the superstitious ones of Merri- vale said the place was haunted, and avoided it after nightful, and over the whole place there brooded an air of desolation and decay. Then the elder Berosford died, and Arthur succeeded him in business and took charge of the Hetherton estate, and twice each year wrote formal business letters to Mr. Hetherton, who sent back letters just as formal and brief, and never vouchsafed a word of information concerning himself or any thing pertain- ing to his life in France, notwithstanding that Mrs. Kosaiter once sent a note in Mr. Beresford's letter, asking about her sister's death ; but to this there was no reply, except the mes- sage that she died in Rome as he had informed her family at the time. Thus it is not strange that the letter to Mr. Beresford an- nouncing his return to America, and speaking of his daughter, was a surprise and a revelation both, for no one had ever dreamed there was a child born to poor Margaret before her " death. In fact, the Fergusons themselves had almost forgotten the existence of Mr. Hetherton, and had ceased to speak of him, though John, who had now been dead four years or more, had talked much in his last sickness of Margaret, or Maggie, as he called her, and had said to his wife : * Something tells mo you will yet be brought very near to her. I don't know exactly how, but in some way sWll come back to you ; not Maggie herself, but something ; it is not clear quite.' And now at last she is coming back in the person of a daugh- ter, but Grandma Ferguson did not know it yet. Only Mr. Beresford and Philip held the secret, for Col. Rossiter counted for nothing, and these two were driving toward Hethej.*ton Place on the warm June afternoon of the day when our story opens. MR. BERESFORD AND PHIL. 2t CHAPTER III. MR. BERESFORD AND PHII« CARCELYany two men'could be more unlike each other than the two men who walked slowly through the Hetherton grounds, commenting on the neglected, ruin- ous condition everywhere apparent, and the vast amount of labour necessary to restore the park and garden to anything like beauty or order. Mr. Beresford, as the elder, will naturally sit first for his mental and physical photograph. In age he was probably not more than thirty-five, though he looked and appeared some- what older than that. He had received a first-class education at Yale, and when he entered the law he devoted himself to it with an energy and assiduity which, had he lived in a lareer town than Merrivale, would have placed him at the head of his profession. There was no half-way work with him. What- ever he'did, he did with all his might, and his services were much sought after by people in the towns around Merrivale, so that he was always occupied and busy. But whether it wan from frequent contact with the class of people with whom he often had to deal, or from something innate in himself, he dis- trusted human nature, and did not always throw over the faults of others the broad mantle of that charity which think- eth no evil until the evil is proved ; and those who dealt with him most intimately found him hard and unsympathetic, though always perfectly honourable and upright. In stature he WbC medium size for a man, but finely formed, with a head set erect and square upon his shoulders, and crowned with a profusion of aark brown hair, which curled sHghtly around his forehead. His complexion was dark, almost swarthy, in fact, and his eyes those round, bright, restless eyes which make you uncomfortable when fixed upon you, because they seem to be reading your inmost secrets and weighing all your thoughts and motives. ^ QUEEN IE HETBERTON. Belonging to one of the oldest and best families in the coun- try, he was proud of his blood and proud of his name — fool- ish I7 proud, too, in many thinfj^s, for had he been Anna Ferguson, that sign in her mother's window would have an- noyed him more even than it did the young lady herself, while the memory of the beer and the gingerbread once sold by her grandmother, and the cellar walls and chimneys built by her grandfather, would have driven him nearly frantic. Indeed, it was a wonder to him how Phil. Hossiter could endure the Fer- gusons, whom he considered wholly vulgar and second-class. And yet, with all these faults, Arthur Beresford was a man of many able, sterling qualities, and one whom everybody re- spected and liked, though not as they liked Phil. Rossiter — good-natured, easy-going, indolent Phil., who, though always ready to help whenever his services were needed, had never been known to apply himself for any length of time to a single useful thing. Business he had none ; employment none ; but for this use- less life his mother was, perhaps, more in fault than he, for she was virtually the moving power of the family, or, as the villa- gers termed it, * the man of the house.' ^ Always peculiar. Colonel Rossiter had grown more and more peculiar and absent-minded with every year of his married life, and as a natural consequence his wife, whose character was stronger than his, had developed into a self-reliant, independ- ant woman, who managed her husband and his affairs aumir- ably, and for the most part let her children manage themselves. Especially was this the case with Phil., who was her idol, and whom she rather encouraged in his idleness. There was money enough, she reasoned, for the colonel was one of those fortu- nate men in whose hands everything turns to gold, and there was no need for Phil to apply himself to business for several Tears at least. By and by, when he came to marry, it might be well enough to have some profession, but at present she liked to have him near her ready to do her bidding, and no queen ever received more homage, or a mother more love, than did Mrs. Rossiter from her son. For her sake he would do anything, dare anything, or endure anything, even to the Fer- gusons, and that was saying a great deal, for they were not a ^ family whose society he could enjoy. But his mother was a MR BERESFORD ANT) PniL 23 Ferguson, and he was bound to stand by them, and if the vul- garity of Mrs. Lydia, his Uncle Tom's wife, or the silly affecta- tion of his cousin Anna, ever made him shudder, he never gave a sign, but bore up bravely and proudly, secure in his own position as a Rossiter and a gentleman. To his grandmother he was always attentive). She was not his own blood relation, he reasoned, and she was old, and so he allowed her to pet and fondle him to such an extent as some- times to fill him with disgust. Only once had he rebelled against her maudlin' tenderness, and that when a boy of ten. ' Granny's baby,' she was wont to call him in her gushing mood, and this sobriquet had been adopted by his school-fellows, who made his life so great a burden that at last on one occasion, when she said to him as she patted his young, fresh face, ' Is he granny's baby 1 Yes, he is granny's baby. He likes to be called granny's baby,' he revolted openly, and turning fiercely upon the astonished woman, exclaimed : ' You just hush up, old woman, I've had enough of that. I ain't your baby. I ain't nobody's baby. I'm ten years old, and wear roundabouts, and I"l be darned if I'll be called a baby any longer.' She never called him so again, or kissed him either, until the night three years later when he was going to school next day, and then she did not offer it herself. She said good-by to him, and God bless you, at his father's house, and went back to her own home, where she had lived alone since her husband's death, and which seemed lonelier to her than ever, because on the morrow the boy Phil, would be gone. Phil, was her idol, her pride, and his daily visits to her had mAde much of the sun- shine of her life, and as she undressed herself for bed, and then went to wind the tall clock in the kitchen comer, the tears rolled down her face and dropped from the end of her nose, which she blew vigorously on her buff and white checked hand- kerchief. She was a little aeaf, and standing with her back to the street door she neither saw nor heard anything until she felt a pair of arms close tightly around her neck, and PhiL's lips were pressed against hers. ' i'or the dear Lord's sake how you scart me. What upon airth brought you here!' she exclaimed, turning toward him M 24 QUEENIE HETHBRTO^. K) with her nightcap border Hying back, and her tallow candle in her hand. Phil, was half crying, too, as he replied : ' I could not go away without kissing you once more, and having you kiss me. You haven't done so since that time I got so plaguy mad and called you names. I've cried about it fifty times, ril bet. I want you to forgive it, and kiss me, too. I'm awful sorry, granny.' The pet name'for her in his babyhood, and which he had long discarded, dropped from his lips naturally now, and putting down her tallow dip the old lady took him in her arms and nearly strangled him as she sobbed : * Forgive you, Phil. % Of course I will, with all my heart, and kiss you, too. Any woman, young or old, would like to kiss a mouth like yours.' We do not believe our readers will like Philip Rossiter the less fur this little incident, or because even in his young man- hood he had a mouth which any woman, young or old, might like to kiss. A handsome mouth it was, with full red lips which always seemed just ready to break into a merry, saucy laugh, but which you felt intuitively had never been polluted by an oath, or vulgar word, or low insinuation against any one. In thought, and word, and deed, he was as pure as any girl, and held all women in the utmost respect, because his mother was a woman. At the time our story opens PhiL was twenty-five years old, though from the delicacy of his complexion ho looked younger, and might easily have passed for twenty-one. Tall, willowy, and graceful in figure, he was, like all the Ferguson race, blue- eyed and fair, with a profusion of soft brown hair, which curled just enough to save it from stiffness. People called him hand- some, with his frank, open, boyish face and winning smile ; but he hated himself for it, as a handsome man was an abomina- tion, he thought, and he had times of hating himself generally, because of that natural distaste to application of any kind, which kept him from being what he felt sure he was capable of being if he could but rouse himself to action. Had he been a woman, he would have made a capital dressmaker, for he knew all the details of a lady's dress, from the arrangement of her hair to the fit of her boot, and could detect at a glance any in^ ■'V yrtwifn wmmttimm THE INVESTIGATION. 25 congruity in colour, and style, and make-up. To his sisters he was invaluable as a critic, and no article which he condemned was ever worn again. It was strange, considering how unlike to each other they were, that Phil, and Mr. Beresford should be as fast friends as they were. Each understood perfectly the peculiarities of the other, and each sought the other's society continually. With Mr. Beresford the fact that Phil, was a Ross- iter covered a multitude of sins, while more democratic Phil, cared but little who Mr. Beresford's family were, but liked the lawyer for himself, and spent a great deal of time in his office where he once actually began the study of law, but gave it up as soon as a party of his college friends asked him to join an excursion to the Adirondacks, and he never resumed it again. From the description given of our two young men the reader will undoubtedly think them far from perfect. And so they are, for our story is made up of very faulty characters, but na- tural ones withal, and such as we know and meet every day of our existence. CHAPTER IV. THE INVESTIGATION. ELL, this is a jolly place for the kind of girl, I fancy Miss Reinette to be,' Phil, said, as he strolled through the grounds, pulling aside with his cane the weeds, and shrubs, and creeping vines, which choked not only the flower-beds, but even the walks themselves. Everywhere were marks of ruin and decay, and the house seemed worse than all the rest ; it was so damp and gloomy, with doors off their hinges, floors half rotted away, and the glass gone from most of the lower windows. * Seems like some old haunted castle, and I kind of feel my flesh creep, don't youl' Phil, said to his companion, as they went through room after room below, and then ascended the broad staircase to the floor above, 26 QUEENIE HETHERTOK * Suppose we first take the room intended for Miss Kein^tte 1 ' Mr. Beresford suggested ; and they bent their steps at once to- ward the large chamber with the bay window overlooking the town and the country for miles and miles away. As they stepped across the threshold both men involuntarily took off the hats they had worn during their investigation. Perhaps neither of them was conscious of the act, or that it was a tribute of respect to the unknown Reinette, who was in the thoughts of both as they stood in the great silent, gloomy room, from which the light was excluded by the heavy shutters which had withstood the ravages of time. This had evidently been the guest chamber during the life of Mrs. Hetherton, and the furniture was of solid mahogany, and of the most massive kind, while the faded hangings around the high-post bed were of the heaviest silken damask. But the atmosphere was close and stifling, and Mr. Beresford drew back a step or two while Phil, pressed on until he ran against the sharp corner of the bureau and uttered a little cry of pain. 'For Heaven's sake come out of this,' Mr. Beresford ex- claimed. ' Let's give the whole thing up, and let Mr. Hether- ton fix his own old rookery. We can never make it decent.' ' Just hold on a minute, 'said Phil, making his way to a window. * Wait till I let in a little air and light. There,' he continued, as he opened window after window, and pushed back the heavy shutters, one of v/hich dropped from the hinges to the ground. ' There, that is better, and does not smell so like an old cheese cupboard, and look, Beresford, just see what a magnificent view. Ten villages, as I live, and most as many ponds, and the river, and the hills, with old Wachusetts in the distance. ' It was indeed a lovely landscape spread out before them, and Phil, who had an artist's eye for the beautiful, enjoyed it to the full, and declared it as fine as anything he had seen in Switzer- land, where he went once with his father just before he entered college. Mr. Beresford was, however, too much absorbed in the duties devolving upon him to care for views, and Phil, himself soon came back to the room and examined it minutely, from the carpet, mouldering on the fioor, to the rotten hanging on the bed, which he began at last to pull down, thereby raising a cloud of dust, from which Mr. Beresford beat a hasty retreat. * I tell you what,' he said, ' it's of no kind of use. I shall THE INVESTIGATION. 37 wash my hands of the entire job, and let Miss Eeinette arrange her own room.' "^Nonsense ! you won't do any such thing,* said Phil. * It's not so very terrible, though ! must confess it's a sweet-looking boudoir for a French lady to come to, but it can be fixed easily enough. I'll help. I can see the end from the beginning. First, we'll have two or three strong women. I know where they are. I'll get 'em. Then we'll pitch every identical old dud out of the window and make a good bonfire — that falls naturally to the boys. Then we, or rather, the women, will go at the room hammer and tongs, with soap, and sand, and water, and burnt feathers, if necessary. Then we'll get a gla- zier and have new window-lights put in, and a painter with paint-pot and brush, and a paperer to cover the walls with — let me see, what shade will suit her complexion, I wonr • Is she skim-milky, with tow hair, like the Fergusons generally, or is she dark, like the Hethertons, do you suppose 1 ' ' I'm sure I don't know or care whether she is like a Dutch doll or black as a nigger. I only wish she would stay in France, where she belongs,' growled Mr. Beresford, very hot and very sweaty, and a good deal soiled with the dust from the bed- curtains which Phil, had shaken so vigorously. * Take it cool, old fellow,' returned Phil., ' You'll be head and ears in love, and go down on your knees to her in less than a month.' * She'll be the first woman I evet went on my knees to/ said Mr. Beresford, while Phil, rejoined with a saucy curl of his lips : * Not even for fair cousin Anna ? ' ' Anna be hanged/ retorted Mr. Beresford, who knew that Anna Ferguson would walk miles for the chance of a smile from him. ' Upon my word you are very complimentary to my relations,' said Phil. ; 'but no matter, it's too hot to fight, you know, so let's finish this room. Reinette is light, of course j there never was a Ferguson yet who had not a complexion like a cheese, so we will have the paper a soft, creamy tint, of some intricate pat- tern, which she can study at her leisure, mornings when she is awak e and does not wish to get up. That settles the paper, and no w for the furniture — something light — oak, of course, 28 QUEENIE HETHERTON. r, ■ \: a 1 and real oak, no sham for the qtieen. Musquito net — coarse, white lace, trimmed with blue, for blondes and blue always go together. So, we'll loop the muslin window curtains back with blue, and have some blue and white what do you call 'em. Beresford — those square things the girls are always making for backs of chairs, and bureaus, and cushions ; you know what I mean ] * ' No, I don't. I'm not a fool to know all the paraphernalia of a girl's bed-chamber,' growled Mr. Beresford, while PhiL re- plied, with imperturbable good nature : ' Neither am I a fool because I can no more enter a room without knowing every article and colour in it, and whether they harmonize or not, than you can help hearing of a projected law-suit without wondering if you shall have a hand in it, chacun d son gout, my good fellow. You see I am beginning to air my French, as I dare say this little French queen speaks atrocious English. Do you understand French, Beresford 1 ' 'Scarcely a word, and I am glad I do not. English is good enough for me,' said Mr. Beresford, thinking to himself, how- ever, that he would privately get out his grammar and French Keader, and brush up his knowledge of the language, for if the foreigner, in whom he was beginning to feel a great deal of interest, really cculd not speak English readily, it would never do to give so much advantage to handsome, winning Phil., who startled him with the exclamation : * I've got it ! Tidies ! — that's what I mean. Blue and white tidies on the bureau, with little fancy scent- bottles standing round — new-mown hay, jockey club, and eau-de-cologne, the very best that Mrs. Maria Ferina Regina can make ; and soap ! By Jove ! she shall have the very last cake of the box I got in Vienna nine years ago ; I keep it in the drawer with my shirts, and collars, and things, for perfumery, you know ; but I've got to give it up now. Not but Miss Reinette will bring out a cart- load, but I wish her to know that we Americans have foreign soap sometimes, as well as she. Then, there's powder ; I must get sister Ethel to give me some of Pinaud's.' * Powder ! What do you mean 1 ' Mr. Beresford asked, in unfeigned surprise ; and Philip replied : * Now, Beresford, are you putting on, or what 1 Is it pos- sible you have lived to be forty years old—* li i; ^1 THE INVESTIGATION. 29 * Only thirty-five,' interrupted Mr. Beresford, and Phil, con- tinued : * Well, thirty-five, then. Have you lived to be thirty-five, and don't know that every grand lady has a little powder-pot and puff-ball on her dressing bureau, just to touch her skin and make her feel better when she's moist. Some of it costs as high as three dollars a package — that's the kind Reinette must have. You ought to have some, too. It would improve that spot of the dust of the Hethertons which has settled under your nose. There — don't rub it with your hands ; you make it worse than ever. We must hunt round for some water to wash your face before we get back to town. But let's furnish this room with matting, which we quite forgot, and a willow chair in the bay-window, and a work-table, with some poetry and one of Ouida's novels on it, and another chair close by, with the cat and kittens. That will make the picture complete, and if she is not satisfied, why, then she's hard to suit. I'll make this room my special charge ; you needn't bother about it at all. I was going right down to the Vineyard, but shall wait to greet my cousin. And now, come on, and let's investigate the rest of the old hut while there is daylight to do it in.' Mr. Beresford was not at all loth to leave the close room which smelled so musty and damp, but which really seemed in a better state of preservation than other parts of the house. Everything had gone to decay, and but for Phil, he would have been utterly discouraged, and abandoned all attempts to restore the place to anything like a habitable condition. Phil, was all enthusiasm, all hopefulness, and knew exactly what ought to be done, and in his zeal offered to see to nearly everything, pro- vided his friend did not limit him as to means. This Mr. Beres- ford promised not to do. Money should be forthcoming even if a hundred workmen were ejaployed, as Phil, seemed to think there must be, the time was so short, and they would like to have things decent at least for Miss Eeinette, of whom they talked and speculated as they rode back to town. Was she pretty, they wondered, and the decision was, that as all young girls have a certain amount of prettiness, she probably was not an exception ; yes, she was pretty, unquestionably, and Prenchy, and spoiled, and a blonde, Phil, said, for no one with a drop of Ferguson blood in his veins was ever anything but that, and i I I I ; I I I V- >i i il 30 QUEEN IE EETHERTON. ^wn^rn'm^mm* the young man spoke impatiently, for he was thinking of his own lilies and roses, and fair hair which he affected to hate. * Of course she is ptiiiey Mr. Beresford said \ but Phil, did not agree with him. He was himself six feet ; his mother was tall ; his Cousin Anna was tall. All the Fergusons were tall ; and the young men bet a soft hat on the subject of Reinette's height. They were getting very much interested in the young lady, nor was their interest at all diminished when, as they reached the vil- lage, they called at the post-office and found a letter from her, which, though sent by the same steamer with her father's, had not reached Merrivale until that evening. The handwriting was very small, but very plain and pretty ; the letter was very short, and ran as follows : — * Hotel Meurice, Paeis, June — . ' Mr. Arthur Beresford : ' Dcor &\Y ; — I have juat discovered that papa has written to you and told you among other things to have a little saddle pony in readiness for me. Now I will not have a pony. I detest a little horse as much as I do a little woman, and I must have a great tall horse, who will carry me grandly and high. The biggest and grand- est you can find. 'Truly, Reinette Hetherton.' It almost seemed to the young men that they lield the un' known Reinette by the hand, so near did this letter bring her to them, and such insight into her character did it give them. ' iShe has a mind of her own and means to exercise it,' said Mr. Beresford, while Phil. , intent upon the soft hat, said : ' You will lose your bet, old feUow. Nobody but an Ama- zon would insist upon a great tall horse. It is just as I told you. She is five feet eleven at least. I want a nice hat, and if you don't object, I'll pick it out myself and send you the bill' * I was just thinking of doing the same by you, for only a wee little creature would want a tall horse to earry her grandly and high,' said Mr. Beresford, still studying the gilt-edged sheet of note-paper, where there lingered a faint, delicate perfume which miles of travel by land and sea had not quite destroyed. * Eh ! bierif novs verrons,* said Phil.; then, bidding good- night PHIL. INTERVIEWS HIS GRANDMOTHER. 31 to his friend, he walked away, humming softly an old French song, of which Mr. Beresford caught the words, ' Ma Petite Reine.' * Confound the boy,' he said to himself. ' He's better up in French than I am, and that will never do.' Arrived at his rooms, Arthur Beresford's first act, after put- ting Keinette'e letter carefully away, was to hunt up his long- neglected OUendorf, over which he pondered for two hours or more, with only this result, that his head was full of all sorts of useless and nonsensical phrases, and that even in his dreams he kept repeating over and over again, ' Avez-voua mon chor peau ? Oui, monsieur, je Vai* CHAPTER V. PHIL. INTERVIEWS HIS GRANDMOTHER. FTER leaving Mr. Beresford, Phil, concluded, before going home, to call on his grandmother and ask if she had ever heard of a grand-daughter in France. The house of Grandma Ferguson ^ as she was now universally called, was the same low, old-fashioned brown building under the pop- lar trees, where she had sold gingerbread and beer in the days when Paul Rossiter and Fred. Hetherton came wooing her two daughters, Mary and Margaret. In her youth Grandma Fer- guson had been a tall, slender, well-formed girl, with a face which always won a second glance from every one who saw it. In fact, it was her pretty face which attracted honest John Ferguson when he was looking forsome one to be a mother to his little girl. Margaret Martin was her real name, but everybody called her Peggy, and everybody liked her, she was so tho- roughly kind-hearted and good-natured, and ready to sacrifice herself in every and any cause. But her family was terribly against her, and getting on was an up-hill business with her. Her father was coarse and low, and a drunkard, and her bro- thers were coarser and lower than he, and the most notorious 1 1 ! t It i iHi 1^ 82 QUE FN IE HETHERTON, fighters in town, while her mother was a shiftless, gossipy, jealous woman, who would rather receive charity at any time than work, and who always grumbled at the charity when given. But against Peggy's reputation not a whisper had ever been breathed. She was loud-talking, boisterous, and igno rant, and a Martin, but perfectly honest, straightforward, and trusty, and from the day John Ferguson, the thrifty stone- mason, took her to his house to look after his house and child, her fortune was made, for in less than six months she became his wife. As Mrs. John Ferguson she was somewhat different from Peggy Martin, and tried, not without success, to lower her voice and soften her manners ; but her frightful grammar remained unchanged, and her slang was noted for its originality and force. But she was a good mother, and wife, and neigh- hour, and after her father and mother died, and her fighting brothers emigrated to California, she shook the Martin dust from her skirts and mounted several rounds higher on the ladder of respectability. But she did not get into society until some years after the Kossitcrs were established in the great house on the Knoll. Her faithful John was under the sod, and the beer sign gone from the window of the low brown house where she lived in comfort and ease, with a coloured servant Axie, who was very serviceable to her indulgen mistress, making her bread, and pies, and caps, and frequently correcting her gram- mar, for Axie knew more of books than Mrs. Peggy. To Mrs. Rossiter, Grandma Ferguson was a care, and some- times a trouble : to the young ladies, Ethel and Grace, she was an annoyance and a mortification, both from her manners, her grammar, and her showy style of dress, while to Phil., who did not care in the least how she talked or how she dressed, she was a source of fun and amusement, and he frequently spent hours in her neat, quiet sitting-room, or out on the shaded back porch where he found her on the evening of his return from Hetherton Place. With increasing years, Grandma Ferguson had lost the slight, willowy figure of her girlhood, and had reached a size when she refused to be weighed. So saucy Phil, ■et her down at two hundred and fifty, and laughed at her sylph-like form, which he said he could not encircle with both his long arms. All delicacy of feature and complexion had dex)arted, and with her round red face and three chins »he might 11!! PHIL INTERVIEW'S HIS GRANDMOTHEB. 33 well have pas^ied for some fat old English or German dowager, especially when attired in her royal purple moire antique,which she always called her morey, with the long, heavy gold chain she wore on state occasions, and her best lace cap with moun- tains of pink bows upon it. Mrs. Ferguson was fond of dress, and as purple and pink were her favourite colours, she some- times presented a rather grotesque appearance. But on the night when Phil, sought her, she had laid aside all superflui- ties, and her silvery hair shone smooth and glossy in th'a soft moonlight, while her plain calico wrapper looked cool and com- fortable, and partially concealed her rotund form. ' For the massy's sake,' she said, as Phil's tall figure bent under the door-way and came swiftly to her side, * what brung you here so late, and why hain't you come afore ] I was round to your Aunt Liddy Ann's this afternoon, and she told me you was to home, so I made a strawbry short-cake for tea, hopin' you'd happen in. 'Twas lickin good, I tell you. There's a piece on't cold in the buttry now, if you want it.' Phil, declined the short cake, and, sitting down by his grand- mother, told her of Mr. Hetherton's letter, and asked if she had ever heard of a daughter. Mrs. Ferguson was a good deal startled and surprised, or, as she expressed it afterward to Keinette herself, ' she was that beat that a feller might have knocked her down with a straw.' That there was somewhere in the world a child of her beautiful young daughter who died so far away, was a great shock to her, and, for an instant, she stared blankly at Phil., as if not quite comprehending him. Then, as he added, ' He has a daughter twenty years old,' she began : ' Fred. Hetherton coming back after so many years, and bringin' a darter with him ! My Maggie's girl ! That's very strange, and makes me think of what your gran'ther said afore he died. Seems if he h^d second sight of somethin', which ain't to be wondered at when you remember that he was born with a vail over his face, and could alius tell things. He said that, in some way, Maggie would come back to me, and she is comin' ; but it's queer I never hearn of a baby when Maggie died. Still, it's like that sneak of a Fred. Hether- ton to keep it from us. We wasn't good enough to know there was a child. But thank the Lord, there's as much Ferguson in ft I! «! li Iji! I: i : ii^ ; iu ! 1. I i! 34 QUEE^IE IIETHERTOI^. her as Hetberton, and he can't help that. I never could abide him, even when he came skulkin' after Maggie, and whistlin' for her to come out At fust I was afraid he didn't mean fair with her, and I told him if he harmed a hair of her head Td shoot him as I would a dog. There's fight, you know, in the Martins ! ' And the old lady's eyes blazed with all the fire of her two scape-grace brothers, once the prize-fighters of the country. ' What were the particulars of the marriage and her death ? I've heard, of course, but did not pay much attention, as I knew nothing of Reinette,' said Phil. ; and Mrs. Ferguson replied : *■ 'Twas a runaway match, for old Mr. Hetberton rode such a high horse that Fred, was most afraid of his life, and so they run away-^the more fools they — and he took her to Europe, and that's the last I ever seen of her, or heard of her either, as you may say. It's true she writ sometimes, but her letters was short, and not satisfyin' at all — seemed as if she was afraid to tell us she was lonesome for us at home, or wanted to see us. She had a new blue silk gown, and cassimere shawl, and string of pearls, and a waitin'-maid, and she said a good deal about them, but nothin' of Fred., after a spell, whether he was kind or not He never writ, nor took no more notice of us than if we was dogs, till there came a letter from him sayin' she had died suddenly at Rome, and was buried in the Protestant grave- yard. He was in Switzerland then, I believe, skylarkin' round, for he was always a great ra '! ler, and we didn't know jestly where to direct letters ; but your mother writ and writ to the old pkce in Paris, and never got no answer, and at last she gin it up. .Vhen old man Hetberton died, Fred, had to write about business, but never a word to us.' ' It's very singular he did not tell you about the little girl,' suggested Phil. ; and Mrs. Ferguson replied : *No, 'tain't He wouldn't of let us know if there had been a hundred babies. He'd be more likely to keep whist, for fear we'd lay some claim to her, and we as good as he any day, if we wasn't quite so rich. Why, there never was a likelier gal than your mother, even when she closed shoes for a livin' ; and there ain't a grander lady now in the land than she is.' * I don't know about the grand,' said Phil, ' but I know there is not a b«tter woman in the world than my mother, or a hand* PBtL INTERVIEWS HIS GliANDMOmEB. '^t^ Bomer either, when she's dressed in her velvet, and laces, and diamonds. I wish you could see her once.' * I wish to gracious I could/ returned Mrs. Fersuson. * Why don't she never put on her hest clothes here and let \xa see 'em once, and not alius wear them plain black silks, and browns, and greys?' ' Merrivale is hardly the place for velvets and diamonds,' said Phil. * There is seldom any occasion for them, and mother does not think it good taste to make a display.' * No, I s'pose not,' grandma replied ; ' but mabby Rennet will take me with you to Washington, or Saratoga, or the bea-side, and then I can see it all. And they needn't be ashamed of me nuther. There's my purple morey, and upon a pinch I can have another new silk. Rennet will find her granny has clothes ! ' Phil, did not usually wince at anything his grandmother said, but now a cold sweat broke out all over him as he thought of her at the sea-side arrayed in her purple moreyy which made her look fatter and coarser than ever, with the bright pink ribbons or blue feather in her cap. What would Reinette say to such a figure, and what would Reinette think of her any way ? He was accustomed to her ; he knew all the good there was in hei ; but Reinett* , with her French ideas, was di^erent, and he found himsei^ seeing with Reinette's eyes and hearing with Reinette's ea^s, and blushing with shame for the good old lady, who went on talking about her new grand-daughter, whom she sometimes called Rennet^ and sometimes Runnel^ but never by her rieht name. At last Phil could bear it no longer, and said : * Grandma, isn't it just as easy to say Reinette as Rennet ? Do you know what a rennet is 1 ' ' No, what is it 1 ' she asked, and he replied : ' It is what farmers put in milk to make cheese curd.' * Bless the boy I ' and Mrs. Ferguson laughed till the tears rolled down her fat cheeks. ' Bless the boy, that's runntt ; as if I didn't know runnet — I, that lived with a farmer three summers, and made cheese every day.' ' No matter ; it is spelt rennet^ and I do not believe my cousin would care to be called that. We want to please her, you know,' said Phil, and his grandn^other replied : * To be 8ttr« we do, and we must make quite a time when sh« H ^UEENIE HETHERTOK, I '• : rl ! fust lands here. Your mother and the gals will come home, of course.' < Perhaps so. I shall write them about' it/ said Phil. ; and his grandmother continued : ' We must get up a percession to meet her, in your father's carriage, and a hired hack, and our best clothes. I'll see Lyddy Ann to-morrow about fixin' me some- thin' to wear. Now I think on't, Lyddy Ann talks of sellin' out her business — so she told me this afternoon. Did you know it r ' I knew some one had written her on the subject, but not that she had decided to sell,' was PhiL's reply, and his grandmother said : ' She ain't, exactly ; but Anny's puttin' her up to it, thinkin' she'll be thought more on if her mother is not a d^'ess-maker, and that sign is out of the winder. Silly critter ; She gets that from the Rices, and they was nothin' extra — I knew 'em root and branch. I tell you I'm as much thought on as if I hadn't sold gingerbread and beer ; but Anny says I'm only noticed on account of the Rossiters — that folks dassent slight Miss Rossiter's mother, and mabby that's so ; but so long as I'm treated well, I don't care who boosts me.' How dreadful her conversation was to Phil, who wondered if she had always talked in this way, and if nothing could be done to tone her down a little before Reiuette came. Nothing he finally decided, and then proceeded to tell her what changes Mr. Beresford contemplated making at Hetherton Place, and what Mr. Hetherton had written of his daughter's tastes with reference to cats, and asked if she could help him there. * That's the Martin blood in her,' said Mrs. Ferguson. * We are desput fond of cats, but I can't let her have old Blue, who has lived with me this ten years, but there's Speckle, with three as lovely Malta kittens as you ever see. They torment me most to death killin' chickens and tearing up the flower-beds. Ren- net can have them and welcome.' It was Rennet again, and Phil, let it pass, feeling that to change an old lady like his grandmother was as impossible as to change the order of the seasons, and hoping his cousin would have sense enough to overlook the grammar, and the slang, and prize her for the genuine good there was in her. As it was now getting very late, Phil, at last said good-night and walked toward home, GETflNG READY FOR REWETTE. 37 thinking constantly of Reinette, wondering how he should like her, and wondering more how she would like him. CHAPTER VL GETTING READY FOB REINETTE. 'ITHIN two days it was known all over Merrivale that Frederick Uetherton was coming home, and was to bring with him a daughter of whose existence no one in town had ever heard, and within three days thirty workmen were busy at Hetherton Place trying to restore the house and grounds to something like their former appearance. Nomin- ally Mr. Beresford was the superintendent, but Phil, was really the head, the one who thought of everything and saw to everything, and to whom every one finally went for advice. He had written to his mother and sisters telling them of the expected arrival, and asking if they would not come home for a few days to receive Reinette, who would naturally feel more at her ease with them than with the Fergusons. To this letter his sister Ethel replied, expressing her aston- ishment that there should be a cousin of whom she had never heard, and saying they should be very glad to be in Merrivale to receive her, but that her mother was suffering from a sudden and acute attack of muscular rheumatism, and required the con- stant care both of herself and her sister Grace, so it would be impossible for them to leave her. * Mother is very anxious to have father here, because she thinks he can lift her better than any one else, ' Ethel wrote in conclusion, ' but she says perhaps he ought to stay and wel- come Miss Hetherton ; he must do as he thinks best. ' This letter Phil, showed to his father, of course, and as Col. Rossiter was not particularly^ interested, either in Frederick Hetherton or his daughter, and as it was very obnoxious to have Grandma Ferguson coming to him every day, as she did, d8 QUEENIE HETHERTOrr. 'i V ill I to discuss the per cession which ought to go up to meet the strangers, he started at once for the sea-sicle, and as Mr. Ber- esford was confined to the house with a severe influenza and sore throat, PhiL was left to stem the tide alone. But he was equal to the emergency, and enjoyed it immensely. iWery day was spent at Hetherton Place, except on occasions when he made journeys to Springfield or Worcester in quest of articles which could not be found in Merrivale. It was astonishing to Mr. Beresford, to whem daily reports were made, how much Phil, knew about the furnishing of a house. Nothing was forgotten from a box of starch and pep- per up to blankets and spreads and easy-chairs. Phil, seemed to be everywhere at the same time, and by his own enthusiasm spurred on the men to do double the work they would other- wise have done. He superintended everything in the grounds, in the garden, and in the house, where he frequently worked with his own hands. He cut the paper and the border for Rei- nette's bed-chamber, put down the matting himself, looped the muslin curtains with knots of blue ribbon, and from his own room at the Knoll brought a few choice pictures to hang upon the walls. He asked no advice of anyone, and was deaf to all the hints his Cousin Anna gave him with regard to what she thought was proper in the furnishing of a house. But when toward the last she insisted upon going to Hetherton Place, he consented, and took her there himself in his light open buggy. Anna was never happier than yhon seen by the villagers in company with Phil, or with any of the Rossiters, of whose rela- tionship to herself she was very proud, parading it always be- fore strangers when she thought there was any likelihood of its working good to herself. Like her grandmother she thought a great deal of dress, and on this occasion she was very dash- ingly arrayed with streamers on her hat nearly a yard long, her dress tied back so tight that she could scarcely walk, her fan swinging from her side, a black lace scarf which came almost to her feet, and a white silk parasol which her mother had bought in Boston at an enormous price. Anna was very much in love with her parasol, and very angry with Phil, for telling her it was more suitable for the city than for the country. She liked city things, she said, and if the Merrivale people were bo Pi OETTim READY FOR REINETTE; 30 far behind the times as not to tolerate a white silk parasol she meant to educate them. So she flaunted her parasol on all oc- casions and held it airily over her head as she rode to Hether- ton Place with Phil, and was very soft, and gentle, and talka- tive, and told him of a schoolmate of hers who had just been married, and made a splendid match, only some might object to it, as the parties were own cousinsj not half, but own I For her part she saw nothing out of the way if they were suited. Did Phil, think it wrong for cousins to marry each other ? Yes, Phil, thought it decidedly wicked, and he urged his pony into apace which drowned the rest of Miss Anna's remarks on the subject of cousins marrying. Arrived at Hetherton Place, the young lady, who thought it smart to be a critic, and fancied that criticism was simply find- ing fault, criticised things generally with an unsparing tongue. Everything was so simple and plain, especially in Keinette's room. Of course it was pleasant and neat, and cool, and airy, but why did he get that matting for the floor, and that light, cheap-looking furniture. There was a lovely pattern of Brus- sels carpet at Enfair's for a dollar fifty a yard, and a high black walnut bedstead and dressing bureau at Trumbell's ; and why didn't he get a wardrobe with a looking-glass door, so Keinette could see the bottom of her dresses. Then she inspected the pictures, and asked where he got those dark-looking photo- graphs, and that woman in the clouds with her eyes rolled up, and so many children around her. She never did like that, any way, it was such an unnatural position for a woman to have her portrait taken. Why didn't Phil, get those lovely pic- tures, * Wide Awake, ' and * Fast Asleep 1 ' They would brighten up the room so much I Phil, bit his lips, but maintained a very grave ^ace while he explained to the young lady that what she called photogr^xphs were very fine steel engravings, which he found in Frankfort, one a landscape, after Claude Lorraine, and the other a moon- light scene on the Rhine, near Bingen, with the Mouse Tower and Ehrenfels in sight, while the woman with her eyes rolled up was an oil copy of Murillo's great picture, the gem of the Louvre. Anna Ferguson had been to boarding-school two or three quarters, and had botanies^ and physiologies, and algebras laid I m ' r I ■! I |i 40 QUEENIE HETHERTON. away on the book-shelf at home ; but for all that she was a very ignorant young lady, and guiltless of any knowledge of the Louvre, or Murillo and Claude l4orraine. But she liked to appear learned, and had a way of pretending to know many things which she did not know ; and now she hastened to cover her mistake by pretending to examine the pictures more closely, and saying, * Oh, yes, I see ; lovely, aren't they ? and so well done I Why, Mr. Beresford, you here ] ' and she turned sud- denly toward the door, which Arthur Beresford was just entering. He was much better, and had ridden over to Hetherton Place with a friend who was going a few miles farther, and hearing voices up stairs, had come at once to Reinette's room, where he found Phil, and Anna. Just then a workman called Phil, away, and Mr. Beresford was left alone with Anna, who was even better pleased to be with him than with her cousin, and who assumed her prettiest, most coquettish manners in order to attract the great lawyer, whose cue she at once followed, praising the airaugement of the room generally, and finally calling his attention to the pictures, one of which, she said, was drawn by Mr. Lorraine, and the other by — she could not quite remember whom, but — the oil painting was the portrait; of Murillo, whose hands and hair she thought so lovely. That came from LoOy in France, but the engravings were from somewhere in Kentucky^ Frank- fort, she believed. Mr. Beresford was disgusted, as he always was with Anna, but did not try to enlighten her, and, as Phil, soon joined them, they went over the rest of the house together. Only the upper and lower halls, the dining-room, the library, Mr. Hether- ton's and Reinette's bed-chambers, the kitchen and servants' rooms had been renovated, and these were all in comfortable living order, with new mattings on the floor, fresh paint and whitewash everywhere, and furniture enough to make it seem homelike and cozy. But it was in the grounds that the most wonderful change had been wrought, and Mr. Beresford could scarcely credit the evidence of his eyes when he saw what had been done. Weeds and obnoxious plants dug up by the roots ; gravel walks cleaned and raked ; quantities of fresh green sod Vfhere the grass had been almost dead; masses of potted he was a dedge of she liked 3w many I to cover e closely, i so well ned sud- was just etherton her, and i'B room, •eresford led to he )rettiest, > lawyer, 3ment of 1 to the lorraine, a, but — ids and France, -Frank- 1 Anna, i them, ily the Hether- jrvants' brtable int and it seem le most 1 could at had roots; en sod potted GETTING READY FOR REINETTE. 41 flowers here and there upon the lawn and in the flower-garden ; while the conservatory, which opened from the dining room, was partly filled with rare exotics which Phil, had ordered from Springfield. In its palmy days Hetherton had been one of the finest places in the country, and, with some of its beauty restored, it looked very pleasant and inviting that summer afternoon ; and Anna felt a pang of envy for her more fortunate cousin, for whom all these preparations were made, and of whom Phil, talked so much. Anna was beginning to be jealous of Keinette, and, as she rode home with Phil., she asked him if he supposed he would make as much fuss for her if she were coming to Merrivale. * Why, yes,' he answered her, * under the same circumstances I should, of course.' * Yes, that's just the point,* she retorted. * Under the same circumstances, which means if I were rich like her, and belonged to the Hethertons. I tell you what, PhiL, '' Money makes the mare go," and though this girl is not one whit better than I am, whose mother is a dress-maker, and whose father keep5> a one-horse grocery, you and that stuck-np Beresford, whom I hate because he is stuck-up, would run your legs off for her, when you, or at least he, would hardly notice me. You have to, because you are my cousin, but if you were not you would be just as bad as Beresford. Wouldn't you now 1 ' Phil, did not care to argue with his cousin, whose jealous nature he understood perfectly, so he merely laughed at her fancies and tried to divert her mind by asking her where she thought he could find a blue silk spread to lay on the foot of the bed in Keinette's chamber. Anna did not know, but promised to make it her business to inquire, and also to see that some pots of ivies were sent to Hetherton Place before the guests arrived. The ruse had succeeded, and Miss Anna, who felt that she was deferred to, was in a much better frame of mind when she was at last set down at her mother's door. She found her grandmother in the sitting-room, and at once recounted to her all she had seen at Hetherton Place, and how she was to send over some ivies and hunt up a blue silk quilt for Reinette's bed. ' A blue silk bed-^uilt this swelteriu' weather 1 What under 42 QUEENIE HETHERTON. , M ■f the sun does she want of that ) ' grandma asked, and Anna ex- plained that Cousin Ethel had a pink silk quilt because her room was pink, and Cousin Grace had blue because her room wao blue. It was a fashion, that was all * Fiddlesticks on the fashion ! ' her grandmother replied. * Better save the money for something else. If Kennet must have an extra comforter, there's that patch-work quilt, herrin' bone pattern, which her mother pieced when she was ten years old. It took the prize at the cattle show, and I've kep' it ever sense as a sort of memoir. If Rennet is any kind of a girl she'll think a sight on't because it was her mother's work. I shall send it over with the cat and kittens.' ' Cat and kittens ! What do you mean ? ' Anna asked, in un- feigned surprise, and her grandmother explained that Rennet's father had written she was very fond of cats, and Phil, wanted some for her, and she was going to give her Speckle and the Maltas. Anna, who was above such weaknesses as a love for cats, sniffed contemptuously, and thought her cousin must be a very silly, childish person ; ' but, then, grandma,' she added, ' you may as well call her by her right name, which isn't Rennet, but Reinetie, with the accent on the last syllable.' * Oh, yes, I forgot,' said grandma. ' Phil, told me not to call her Rennet, but what's ihe difference ? I mean to do my duty by her, and show Fred. Hetherton that I know what is what. We must all go up in percession to meet 'em, and then go with 'em to the house, and ypur mother is goii' to fix me a new cap in caco we stay to tea, and if it ain't too hot I shall wear my morept and if it is, I guess I'll wear that pinkish spriggled muslin with my lammy shawl, and you, Anny, must wear your best clothes, for we don't want 'em to think we are hack-woodsy! There was no danger of Anna's wearing anything but her best clothes, and for the next three days she busied herself with thinking what was most becoming to her, deciding at last upon white muslin and blue sash, with her long lace scarf fastened with a blush-rose, her white chip hat faced with blue and turned up on one side, with a cream-coloured feather drooping down the back. This, she thought, would be alto^ GETTING READY FOR REINETTE. 43 Anna ex- ;au8e her ler room replied, let must ;, herrin' •en years >' it ever >f a girl rork. 1 d, in un- ^nnet's id Phil. Speckle for cats, e a very d, 'you Rennet, t to call y duty what. ;o with ew cap ear my riggled wear ^Q are it her erself at last scarf blue ather altO" gether au fait^ and sure to impress Reinette with the fact that she was somebody. Anna was getting quite interested in her new cousin, with whom she meant to stand well ; and though she said to the contrary, she was really glad that Ethel and Grace Rossiter were both absent, thus leaving her to represent alone the young ladyhood of the family. Such was the state of affairs on the morning when the paper announced that the Rtissia had reached New York the previous afternoon — a piece of news which, though expected, threw Mr. Bercsford, and Phil., and the Fergusons into a state of great excitement Fortunately, however, everything at Hetherton Place was in readiness for the strangers. The rooms were all in perfect order ; a responsible and respectable woman, in the person of Mrs. Jerry Tubbs, had been found for housekeeper, and with her daughter Sarah installed in the kitchen. Two beautiful horses, with a carriage to match, and a man to take care of them, were standing in the stable, awaiting the approval of Miss Eeinette ; while in another stall a milk-white steed, tall and large, was pawing and champing, as if impatient for the coming of the mistress he was to carry so grandly and high Chained in his kennel to keep him from running away to the home he had not yet forgotten, was a noble Newfoundland dog, which Phil, had bought at a great price in West Merrivale, and whose name was King. Could Phil, have had his way, he would have brought a litter of puppies, too, for the young lady ; but Mr. Beresford interfered, insisting that one dog like King was enough to satisfy any reasonable woman. If Miss Hether- ton wanted puppies let her get them herself. So Phil, gave them up, but brought over Speckle and the three Maltas, and these were tolerably well domesticated, and had taken very kindly to the stuffed easy-chair which stood in Reinette's win- dow. The blue silk quilt had been found in Worcester, and Grandma Ferguson had sent over the * herrin'-bone ' which Margaret pieced when ten years old, and which had taken the prize at the 'Cattle Show.' This Mrs. Jerry Tubbs had promised faithfully to put on Rennet's bed, and to call the young lady's attention to it as her mother's handiwork. And so all things were ready^ and Grandma Ferguson's 44 QUEENIE HETHERTON, I !l;ii sprigged muslin, and lam/my shawl, and new lace cap were laid out upon the bed when Phil, came with the news that the ship had arrived, and that, in all probability, they should soon get a velegram from Mr. Hetherton himself. This was early in the morning, and as the hours crept on Mr. Beresford and Phil, hovered about the telegraph office, until at last the message came flashing along the wires, and the opera- tor wrote it down, and, with a white, scared face, handed it to Mr. Beresford, who, with a whiter face and a look of horror in his eyes, read the following : ' New York, July — , 18 — . * To Mr. Arthur Beresford : '' Papa is dead. He died just before the ship touched the shore, and I am all alone with Pierre. But everybody is so kind, and everything has been done, and we take the ten o'clock train to Merrivale, Pierre and I and poor dead papa. Please meet us at the station, and don't take papa to his old home. I could not bear to have him there dead. 1 should see him always and hate the place for ever ; so bury him at once. Pierre says that will be better. I trust everything to you. * Beinette Hetherton.* CHAPTER VII. ON THE SEA. I HE Russia was steaming slowly up the harbour^ to her moorings on the Jersey side of the Hudson, and her upper deck was crowded with passengers, some strain- ing their eyes to catch the first sight of familiar forms among the crowd waiting for them on shore, and others to whom everything was strange, looking eagerly from side to side at the world so new to them. Standing apart from the rest, with her hands locked tightly together, her head thrown back, and a long blue vail twisted around her sailor hat, stood a young girl with a figure so slight that at first you might have mis^ taken her for a child of fourteen, but when she turned more ON THE SEA, 45 fully toward you you would have seen that she was a girl of twenty summers or more, whose face you would look at once, and twice, and then come back to study it again and wonder what there was in it to fascinate and charm you so. Beautiful in the strict sense of the word it was not, for if you dissected the features one by one there was much to find fault with. The forehead was low, the nose was short and inclined to an up- ward turn, as was the upper lip, and the complexion was dark, while the cheeks had lost something of their roundness during the passage, which, though made in summer, had not been alto- gether smooth and free from storm. During the first three days Reinette had been very sick, and Pierre, her father's attendant, had carried her on deck and wrapped her in blankets and furs, and watched over and cared for her as if she had been a queen. Then, when the rain came dashing down and the great green waves broke over the lower deck, and she refused to return to the close cabin, and said she liked to watch the ocean in a fury because it made her think oC- herself in some of her moods, he staid by her and covered her with his own rubber cloak and held an tlmbrella over her head until the wind took it from him, and turning it wrong side out, carried it far out to sea, where it rode like a feather on the waves, while Reinette laushed merrily to see it dance up and down until it was lost to sight. Others than Pierre were inter- ested in and kind to the little French girl, whose father had kept his berth from the time he came on board at Liverpool. It was whispered about that he was a millionaire, and that Reinette was his only child, and heiress of his vast fortune ; and as such things go for a great deal on shipboard as well as elsewhere, this of itself was sufficient to interest the passengers in Reinette, who, as soon as she was able, danced about the ship like the merry, light-hearted creature she was, now jabber- ing with Pierre in hib native tongue, and sometimes holding fierce altercations with him, now watching the sailors at their work, and not unfrequently joining her own clear, bird-like voice in the songs they sung, and again amusing some fretful, restless child, whose tired mother blessed her for the respite, and thought her the sweetest type of girlhood she had ever seen. Everybody liked her, and, after a little, everybody called her beautiful, she was so bright and sparkling, with the rich, 46 QUEENIE HETHERTON. warm colour in her cheeks, her pretty little mouth always break- ing out in frequent exclamations of surprise or rippling bursts of laughter, her long eyelashes and heavy brows, her black, wavy hair, which in some lights had in it a tinge of golden brown, as if it had been often kissed by the warm suns of Southern France, and, more than all, her large, dark, brilliant eyes, which flashed upon you so suddenly and so swiftly as almost to blind and be- wilder you with their brightness. Taken as a whole, Reinette Hetherton was a girl who, once seen, could never be forgotten ; she was so sunny, and sweet, and wilful, and piquant, and charming every way ; and the passengers on the Russia, who were mostly middle-aged people, petted, and admired, and sym- pathized with her, too, when, with the trace of tears in her beautiful eyes, she came from her father's bedside and reported him no better. For months his health had been failing, and he had hoped the sea voyage would restore him pomewhat ; but he was grow- ing steadily worse, though as yet there was no shadow of fear in Eeiuette's heart ; she was only sad and sorry for him, and staid with him whenever he would let her. Generally, how- ever, he would send her away after a few passionate hugs and kisses, and enquiries as to how he was feeling. She must get all the sea air she could, he said, for he wanted her to be bright and fresh when he presented her to his friends in America. * Not that I have many friends there,' he said, smiling a little bitterly. ' It has been so many years, and so much has happened, since I left home, that I doubt if any remember or care for me ; but they will forgive me, perhaps, for the sake of you, my daughter,' and he stroked fondly the long silken curls which Reinette wore bound at the back of her head, and looked lovingly into the eyes meeting his so tenderly. Then he sent her away, and turning in his narrow berth, thought again, as he had thought many times, of all the sin and evil-doing he had heaped up against himself and others since the day he last saw his native land. Many and terribly bitter were the thoughts crowding his btain and filling him with remorse as he lay there day after day, and knew that with each turn of the noisy screw he was nearing the home where there was not a friend to welcome hinr. IWIIl ON THE SEA. 47 8 break- mrsts of c, wavy 'own, as France, flashed andbe- leinette rgotten ; nt, and ia, who nd sym- 3 in her eported \ hoped IS grow- of fear m^ and ^, how- igs and ust get to be nds in ling a ch has ber or ake of curls ooked * But once there,' he said to himself, ' once back in the old place, ril begin life anew. I'll make friends even of my ene- mies for the sake of my darling ; oh, Queenie, my angel, there is so much I would undo for you — for you — to whom the great- est wrong of all has been done, and you so unconscious of it. Would you kiss me as you do 1 Would you love me as you do, if you knew all the dark past as I know it? Oh, my child 1 my child ! ' and, covering his face with his hands, the sick man sobbed aloud. * If I live to get there,' was now the burden of his thoughts ; but could he live he asked himself as, day by day, he felt he was growing weaker, and counted the rapid heart-beats and saw the streaks of blood upon the napkin his faithful Pierre held to his lips after a paroxysm of coughing. The desire for life was stronger within him now than it had been for years ; but the candle was burned out ; there was only the snuff remaining, and when at last the scent of the land breeze was born through his open window, and Beinette came rushing in to tell him they were entering the harbour, and she had seen America, he knew that the hand of death was on him, and that the only shore he should ever reach would be the boundless shore of eternity, which was looming up so black be- fore him. But he would let Eeinette be happy as long as pos- sible, and so he sent her from him, and then, with a low moan, he cried : * Pity me, oh, God 1 I have so much need to be forgiven.' In his gayest, most reckless moods, with his sceptical com- panions round him jeering at all that was sacred and holy, he had said there was no God; that the Bible was only an old woman's fable, but he had never quite believed it ; and now with death measuring his life by heart-beats, he knew there was a God and a hereafter by the stiugs of his own conscience, and the first prayer uttered in years fell from his white lips. Oh, how many and how great were the sins which came back to him as he thought of his wasted life, remembering his mother dead so long ago ; his father, too, whose last words to him had been a curse , and the beautiful Margaret, whom, for a short period he had loved with a love so impetuous that in a few short months it had burned itself out, and left only poisonous ashes where the fierce passion had been. How gentle, and patient and for* 48 QUEENIE HETUERTON. giving she was, and how basely he had requited her faithful- ness and love. ' Oh, Margaret/ he whispered, ' I am so sorry, and if I could undo the past I would.' Then, as another phantom, darker, more terrible than all the others flitted before his mind, he shivered as with a chill while the great drops of sweat came out upon his forehead and the palms of his hands, which he clasped so tightly together, were dripping with perspiration. And while he lay there alone sufiering the torments of remorse he could hear the rapid movements of the sailors, and the excited crowd on deck watching for the shora And Reinette, he knew, was with them, looking eagerly upon the new world, which recently he had tried to teach her to love as her future home. ' Home — America,' he murmured ; ' I must see it again ; ' and, regardless of consequences, he got out of his berth, and, tottering to his window, looked out upon the beautiful bay, and saw in the distance the city, which had grown so much since he last looked upon it But the exertion was too great for him, and, dizzy and faint, he crept back to his bed, where he lay unconscious for a moment ; then rousing himself, and alarmed by the terrible feeling stealing over him so fast, he called aloud for Keinette. The call was heard by Pierre, who was never far away, and who came at once, greatly alarmed by the pallor in his master's face and the flecks of blood upon the lips and chin. To go for Eeinette was the work of an instant, and, like a frightened deer, she bounded down the stairway to her father's side, and in her impetuosity almost threw herself upon him. But he motioned her back, and whispered : * Not so close ; you take my breath away, Pierre,* he added, as his valet started for the physician, ' don't go for him ; it's too late now. I am dying ; nothing can help me, and I must not be disturbed. I must be alone with Queenie. Stand out- side till I call.' The frightened Pierre obeyed, and then Reinette was alone with her dying father. She knew he was dying, but the awful suddenness stunned her so completely that she could only gaze at him in a stupefied kind of way, as his eyes were fixed 80 earnestly upon her. ON THE SEA. 4d faithful- I could than all 1 a chill lead and ogether, y there he rapid )n deck as with ently he again ; ' th, and, iful bay, BO much szy and us for a terrible einette. ay. and naster's like a 'ather's n him. added, m ; it's I must id out- alone awful only fixed 'Little Queenie/ he said, using the pet name he always gave her, * kneel down beside me and hold my hands, in yours, while I. tell you something I ought to have told you long ago.' She obeyed, and, covering his cold hands with kisses, whispered : * Yes, father, I am waiting.* But if he heard, he did not answer at once ; and when at last he spoke, it was with difficulty, and like one who labours for breath. His mind, too, seemed wandering, and he said : ' I can't tell you, but if it ever comes to you, promise you will forgive me. I have loved you so much, my darling ; oh, my darling, promise while I can hear you !' ' Yes, father, I promise,' Reinette replied, knowing nothing to what she pledged herself, thinking nothing except of the white face on the pillow, where the sigu of death was written. * Queenie, are you here ? ' the voice said again, and she re- plied, ' ^ cs, father,' while he continued : ' I meant to have told you when we reached New York once more, it is so long. It is too late, forever too late. Oh, Queenie — oh, Margaret, forgive 1' * Is it of mother you wish to tell me 1 ' Reinette asked, bending forward eagerly, and fixing her great dark eyes upon him. * Your mother, child — your mother. Yes — no— don't speak that name aloud. We've left Iter way over there, or I thought we had. That's why I was going home — to get away from it, and— if — Queenie, where are you 1 1 cau't see you, child. You are surely here 1 You are listening ? ' ' Yes, yes, father, I am here. I am listening,' and the girl's rigid face and fixed, wide-open eyes showed how intently she was listening. ' Yes, child, that's right ; listen so close that nobody else can hear. We are all alone T ' Yes, father, all alone ; only Pierre is outside, and he un- derstands English so little. What is it, father ] What are you going to tell me ? ' There was silence for a moment, while Mr. Hetberton re- garded his daughter fixedly, and with an expression in his eyes which made her uneasy and half afraid of him* I ' 50 QUEENtE HETBERTON. ^ What is it ? ' he said, at last and goes, as she did. Ah ! now I *I don't have it. ijx.r how mother — much I love you, and if you know ; it comes Queenie, remem- ever meet your ' Oh, poor father, his mind is wandering,' Reinette thought ; but she said to him, soothingly : ' Mother in dead ; she died in Kome when I was born.' Again the eyes regarded her with a look of cunning in them, and a smile, pitiable to see, curled the pallid, blood-stained lips, as the dying man replied : ' Yes, I know ; but that's our little joke. She's here, or she was over there in the corner just now, laughing at my pain. Oh, Queenie, do the torments of the lost begin before they die. I'm sorry — oh, I am so sorry ! It's too late now — too late. I can't think ho\, it was, or tell you if I c ild.' He was quiet a moment, and seemed to be himself again, as his shaky hands caressed the shining hair of the head bowed down so near to him. * Too late, Queenie. I ought to have told you before, but it's my nature to put off ; and now when they claim you in Merrivale, accept it ; try to like everybody, be pleased with everything. America is very different from France. Trust Mr. Beresford ; he is my friend. He comes of a good race. Tell him everything. Go to him for everything necessary, but don't trouble any one when you can help yourself. Don't cjy before people ; it bothers and distresses them. Be a wo- man ; learn to care for yourself. Govern your temper ; no- body will bear with it as I have. Be patient with Pierre — and — and — Queenie, child, where are you? It's getting so dark. I can't see you anywhere, nor feel you either. Have you left me, too ? and Margaret is ^one now. ' * No, no ; Im here ! ' Reinette cried, in an agony of fear ; and her father continued : * Remember, when it comes to you, as it may, thai; yo^i pro- mise to forgive.' * YeS; fiither. I don't know what you mean, but if I ever do, I'll forgive everything — everything, and love you just the Same, forever and ever,' Reinette said to him ; and the cold, clammy hands upon her head pressed harder, in token that he had heard. But that was the only response . for a moment. ON THE SM. 61 comes remem- b your lought ; le died Q them, stained , or she y pain, ley die. late. I gain, as bowed ►re. but you in with Trust a race, cessary, Don't a wo- no- lerre — ing so Have kr ; and >vi pro- I ever pst the cold, hat he >menty when he said again, and this time in a whisper, with heavy, laboured breath : * One thing more comes to my mind. There will be letters for me — letters from — from — many people — on business — nothing but business, and you must not read them, or let another do it. Burn them, Queenie. Swear to me solemnly that you will do it ; swear it, child !* *I swear it, father — swear solemnly that I will burn all letters which may come to you without reading them,' Kei- nette said, frightened at the strange look in his face and his evident eagernes& for her reply. * God bless you, darling ! Keep your promise to your dying father, and never try to find — ' He did not say what or whom, but lay perfectly quiet, while overhead on deck the trampling of feet was more hurried and noisy, and the ship gave a little lurch as if hitting against something which resisted its force and set it to rocking again. The motion threw Reinetto backward, and when she gathered herself up and turned towards the white face on the pillow, she uttered a wild cry in French : * Oh, Pierre, Pierre, come qtlickly, father is dead ! * and tottering toward the door she fell heavily against the tall custom-house officer just entering the state-room. He had come on board to do his duty; had seen the bustling little Frenchman speak hurriedly to the young girl on deck ; had seen her dart away, and fancied she cast a frightened look at him. When others came to declare the contents of their trunks she had not been with them. Secreting her * goods and chattels,* no doubt, he thought, and made his way to the state-room, where he stood appalled in the awful presence of death. Reinette might have had the wealth of all Paris in her trunks and carried it safely off, for her trunks were not molest- ed, and both passengers, ship's crew, and ofhcers vied with each other in their care for and attention to this young girl, whose father lay dead in his berth, and who was all alone in a strange and foreign country. Understanding but little of the language, and terrified half out of his wits at the sight of death, Pierre was almost worse than useless, and could do nothing but croach ^\, his mistress s feet^ and holding her 5^ QUEENtE HETSEBfOlt, Es'i hands in his gaze in her face in dumb despair, as if asking what they were to do next. ' Children, both of thenL We must take it in hand our! selves/ the captain said to his mate ; and he did take it in hand, and saw that Eeinette was made comfortable at the Astor, and the body was made ready for burial. When awaked if she had friends or relatives expecting her, Beinette replied : * No, no friends or relatives anywhere. Papa was all I had* There is only Pierre now, and Mr. Beresford, papa's agent I am to trust him with everything.' Later, when something was said to her about telegraphing to Mr. Beresford to come for her, she answered, promptly : ' No, that would make unnecessary trouble, and father said I was not to do that. Pierre and I can go alone. I have travelled a great deal, and when papa was sick in Germany and Pierre could not understand, I have talked to the guards and the por- ters. I know what to do.* And on the pale, tear-stained face there was a resolute, self- reliant look, which was in part born of this terrible shock, and partly the habit of Beinette^i^life. ' To-morrow morniig 1 will telegraph,' she added. ' You see us to the right train, and I can do the rest. I can find the way. I have been studying it up.' . And she showed him Appleion's Railway Guide, to which she had fled as to a friend. Since leaving the ship she had not shed a tear in the presence of any one, but the anguish in her dry bright eyes, and the drawn, set look about her ashen lips told how hard it was for her to force back the wild cry which was constantly forcing itself to her lips until her throat felt like bursting with its lumps of pain. Her father, to whom in life her slightest wish had been a law had said to her in death, ' Don't trouble people, nor cry if you can help it Be a woman ; * and now his wish was a law to her, which she would obey if she broke her heart in doing it. She did not seem at all like the airy, merry-hearted laughing girl she had been on shipboard, but like a woman with a woman's will and a woman's capacity to act. That she could go to Merrivale alone she was perfectly ON THE SEA. 53 sure, and she convinced the captain of it, and then with a voice that shook a little, she said : ^ ' Mr. Beresford will meet me, of course, at the station, and some others, perhaps. I don't quite know the ways of this country. Will they bury him at once, do you think, or take him somewhere first % ' The captain understood her meaning and replied by asking if she had friends — relatives — in Merrivale 1 * None,' she said. * Nobody but Mr. Beresford, father's friend and lawyer.' * But you have a house — a home — to which you are going ? ' * Yes, the home where father lived when a boy, and which he was so anxious to see once more,' Eeinette said, and the captain replied : * Naturally, then, they will take your father there for a day or two, and then give him a grand funeral, with ' * They won't ; they shan't,' interrupted Reinette, her eyes blazing with determination. ' I won't have a grand funeral, with all the peasantry and their carts joining in it. Neither will I have him carried to the lald home. I could not bear to see him there dead where he wished so much to be, alive. I should hate the place always, and see him white and dead, |and cold everywhere. He is my own darling father to do with as I like. Pierre says I'm my own mistress, and I shall telegraph Mr. Beresford to-morrow that father must be buried from the station, and I shall make him do it.' She was very decided and imperious, and the captain let her have her way, and sent ofi for her next morning the long tele- gram which she had written, regardless of expense, and which so startled the people in Merrivale and changed their plans summarily. 54 QUEEN IE HETHERTON. '\ CHAPTER VTII. REINETTE ARRIVES. R. Beresford, to whom the telegram was addressed, naturally read it first, feeling as if the ground was moving from under his feet, and leaving a chasm he did not know how to span. * What is it ? ' Phil, asked, as he saw how white Mr. Beres- ford grew, and how the Land which held the telegram shook. * Read for yourself,' Mr. Beresford said, passing the paper to Phil, to whose eyes the hot tears sprang quickly, and whose heart went out to the desolate young girl, alone in a strange land, with her dead father beside her. ' If I had known it last night I would have gone to her,' he said, ' but it's too late now for that. All we can do is to make it as easy for her as possible. Beresford, you see to the grave in the Hetherton lot, and that the hearse is at the station to meet the body, and I'll notify them at the house not to go on with the big dinner they are getting up, and I'll tell grand- mother that her flounced muslin and pink ribbons will not be needed to-day.* Shocked and horrified as he was, Phil, could not refrain from a little pleasantry at the expense of the dress and cap which Grandma Ferguson was intending to wear ' to the doin's,' as she termed it. It was in the midst of these preparations that Phil, came with the news, which so shocked his grandmother that for a moment she did not speak, and when at last she found her voice her first remark was wholly characteristic and like her. ' Fred Hetherton died ! Sarves him right, the stuck-up critterl But I am sorry for the girl, and we'll give him a big funeral jest on her account.' But Phil, explained that this was contrary to Reinette's wishes ; her father was to be buried from the station, as Reinette would not have the body taken to Hetherton Place. ' Fraid of fcptrrits, most likely,' said Mrs. Ferguson, thinking REINETTE ARRIVESi. 65 to herself that now she should spend a great deal of time with her granddaughter who would be lonely in her great houso. Then, as her eye fell upon her muslin dress and lace cap, her thoughts took another channel. Out of respect to Reinette, who would of course be clad in the deepest mourning she could find in New York, she and her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Tom, and Anna, must at least wear black when they first met her. Mr. Tom Ferguson, of whom scarcely anything has been said, and who was a plain, quiet, second-class grocer and as obstinate in some matters as a mule, refused to have anything to do with the affair. * Fred Hetherton had never spoken to, or looked at him when a boy, and he shouldn't go after him now,' he said. ' He should stay at home and mind his own business, and let the women felks run the funeral.' Phil, was very tired, for he had been busy since the arrival of Reinette's telegram — at his grandmother's, his Aunt Lydia's, his own home, at Hetherton Place, where he filled the rooms with flowers brought from the Knoll gardens and conservatory and with the beautiful pond lilies which he went himself upon the river to procure. * I certainly must honour my cousin with a new hat, for this is unpardonably shabby,' he thought, and remembering his bet with Arthur Beresford, and how sure he was to win, he went into a hatter's on his return to town, and selecting a soft, sty- lish felt, which was very becoming, and added to his jaunty ap- pearance, he had it charged to his friend, and . iien went in quest of some labourer to take with him to the grave-yard. But there was none to be found, and so he set off alone, with hoe, and rake, and sickle, and waged so vigorous a warfare upon the weeds, and grass, and briers, that the lot, though far from being presentable, was soon greatly changed in its appearance. But Phil, had miscalculated the time, and while pruning the willows which drooped over Mrs. Hetherton's grave, he sud- denly heard in the distance the whistle of the train not over a mile away. To drop his knife, don his coat, and with the blood from a bramble scratch on his hand, was the work of an instant, and then Phil, went flying across the fields the shortest way to the station, racing with the locomotive, speeding so swiftly across the meadows by the river-side until it reached the station, where a crowd of people was collected, and where grandma and Mrs. 56 QUEENIE HETHERTON. Lydia waited in their black, and Anna in her white, while Mr. Beresford, who had come up in his own carriage, stood apart from them, nervous and expectant, and wondering where Phil, could be — poor Phil. ! tumbling over stone walls, bounding over fences, and leaping over bog in his great haste to be there, and only stopping to breathe when he rolled suddenly down a bank and was obliged to pick himself and his hat up, and wipe the dirt from his pants, and rub his grazed ankle. Then he went on, but the train had deposited its freight, living and dead, and shot away under the bridge, leaving upon the platform a young girl with a white, scared face, and great bright black eyes, which flashed upon the staring crowd glances of wonder and inquiry. It was an exquisitely moulded little figure with grace in every movement ; but the crape which Grandma Ferguson had expec- ted to see upon it was not there. All this Anna noted at a single glance, as she did the dainty little boot, which the short dress made so visible. * She isn't, in black ; you might have saved yourself all that bother,' Anna said, under her breath, while her grandmother was thinking the same thing, and sighing regretfully for the cool, spriggled muslin lying at home, while she was sweating at every pore in her bombazine. But she meant well, and secure in this consciousness, she pressed forward to claim and embrace her grandchild, just as Mr. Beresford stepped up to the young lady, and offering her his hand, said, in his well-bred, gentlemanly way : * Miss Hetherton, I believe ] ' * I'm looking for Mr. Beresford. Please do you know him — is he here ? ' *I ara Mr. Beresford/ he replied, and the lightning glance which the bright eyes flashed into his face almost blinded hira, for Reinette's eyes were wonderful for their brilliancy and con- tinually varying expression, and few men ever stood unmoved before them. It was a very novel position in which the grave bachelor Beresford found himself — a girl crying on his hands, with all those people looking on ; and still he rather liked it, for there was something very touching in the way those fingers clung to his, and in his confusion he was not quite sure that he did not press them a little, but before he could think what to say or do. Grandma Ferguson's crape and two hundred pounds stood close REINETTE ARRIVES. 57 ;lance him, I con- tnoved to him, and as Reinette lifted her head a pair of arms waa thrown around her neck, and a voice which her patrician ears detected at once as untrained and uneducated, exclaimed : * My dear Rennet, I am so glad to see ray daughter's girl.* * Madarae, I don't understand you,' Reinette replied, draw- ing nearer to Mr. Beresford, and holding faster to his hand, as if for protection and safety. * I am your grandmarm — your mother's mother ; and this,' turning to her daughter-in-law, ' is your aunt Liddy Ann — your Uncle Tom's wife ; and this one,* nodding to Anna, who understood this state of things better than her grandmother, and was hot with resentment and anger, ' this is your cousin Anny.' Releasing her hand from Mr. Beresford's, Reinette, with dexterous rapidity, wrenched oft her gloves, as if they, like the veil, were burdensome ; and Anna, who hated her own long, slim, fingers, with the needle-pricks upon them, saw, with a pang of envy, how soft, and small, and white were her cousin's hands, with the dimples at the joints, and the costly jewels shining on them. Lydia Ann, who felt quite overawed in the presence of this foreign girl, did not speak, but courtesied straight up and down ; while Anna, always politic and calculating the future, put on a show of cordiality, and, offering her hand, made a profound bow as she said : * I am glad, Cousin Reinette, to make your acquaintance, and you are very welcome to America.' ' Thanks,' murmured Reinette, in her soft, foreign accent, just as Grandma Ferguson spoke again : * And this 'ere is another cousin, Philip Rossiter — your A'nt Mary's boy.' Just then Pierre came to the rescue, and said something to her in her own language, whereupon she turned swiftly to Mr. Beresford and said : * You received my telegram ? You will bury him straight from here ? ' *Yes,' he answered, 'and I believe everything is ready. Shall I take you to your carriage ? ' ' Yes, yes ! O do ! ' she replied, and placing her hat on her head again, she took his arm, and entered the carriage. Reinette must have guessed the intention of her new rela- 58 QUEENIE HETHERTON. tives to ride with her, for she said rapidly and low to Mr. Beresford : ' You CO with me, of course, and Pierre : that is proper ; he loved father ; he is nearer to me now than any one in the wide world.' * Why, yes ; only I think your relatives — your grandmother will naturally expect to accompany you,' Mr. Beresford an- swered, and Beinette said quickly : ' My relatives 1 my grandmother ! Mr. Beresford, he said I was to ask you everything. Are they my grandmother 1 Tell me true.' Mr. Beresford could not repress a smile at the way she put tht question, in her vehemence, but he answered her very low und cautiously, as the Ferguson party were close behind. * I think they are.' Then, as a suddeii idea flashed upon him, he continued : * Was your father twice married ? * * No. nevei, never ! ' * Tell me, then, please, your mother's name 1 ' * Margaret Ferguson, and she died in Rome, when I was born.' ' If your mother was Margaret Ferguson, and died in Rome, I am afraid ' He did not go on, for something in the black eyes stopped him suddenly, and warned him that if these people were indeed her grandmother's she would sufifer no insinuations against them. She was like Phil, in that respect ; what was hers she would defend, and, when Mrs. Ferguson's red face appeared at the door, Reinette moved to the other side of the seat, and said : * Here, grandmother, sit by me, please.' She had acknowledged her by name, at least, and Reinette felt better, and only clenched her hands hard as Lydia Ann and Anna disposed of themselves on the soft cusliiotis opposite, the your.g lady stepping in and tearing her long lace scarf, and uttering the exclamation • ' My gracious, how awkward 1 ' * You didn't orter wear it. Such jimcracks ain't for funerals. Rennet ain't got on none,' grandma said, vrhile Ann? frowned insolently, and Reinette looked o.i and shivered, and held her hands tignter togettier, and thought bow dreadful io all was, and how could it be thao these people belonged to her, who at heart was the veriest aristocrat ever born. i N REINETTE ARRIVES. 59 to Mr. )er ; he iie wide mother ord an- he said lother ? she put ery low i. ed : ,s born.' Rome, stopped indeed against ers she ared at d said : einette |ia Ann >posite, Irf, and nerals. [owned lid her |ll was, ^ho at At last, as the silence became unbearable to grandma, who liked nothing better than talking, she said to Keinette : * I s'pose you don't remember your mother 1 ' Keinette shook her head, and grandma continued : * How old was you when she died ? ' ' I don't know.' * Wall, now. Don't you think that's singular ? ' and grand- ma looked at her daughter-in-law and Anna, the latter of whom seized the opportunity to spit out her venom, and said : 'Not singular at all, and if I's you, grandma, I wouldn't bother Keinette with troublesome questions.' Grandma Ferguson, who, since Reinette's pitiful outburst had been crying softly to herself, wiped her eyes, and said : * Yes, darling, this is the place ; this is the Hethe: .on lot. It has been left to run down many a year, but will look better by-and-by. Hadn't you better stay in the carriage 1 1 ou can if you want to.' ' No, no, oh, no .1 must be with father,' Keinette replied, and opening the door herself, she sprang to the ground, and was first at the open grave, where she stood immovable during the short prayer and until they began to lower the body. Then she ex- claimed : * Oh, are there no flowers for him 1 Did no one bring a flower, when he loved them so much ? ' and her eyes flashed rebukingly upon those who had brought no flowers for the dead man. Meanwhile Phil., with his usual forethought, had interviewed his grandmother in an aside and suggested to her that as Kei- nette would undoubtedly prefer going alone with Mr. Beresford to her new home, the ladies should return to town in the car- riage of the latter and call on his cousin the following day. ' Phil, thinks you'd rather be alone the first night home, and I guess he's right/ said grandma, * so if you'll excuse your Aunt liddy, and me and Anny, we'll come early to-morrow and see you, and have a long talk about your mother. Good-by, and Heaven bless you, child.' While she was speaking, Keinette looked steadily in her face, and something in its expression attracted more than it repelled her. It was a good, kind, honest face, and had seen her mother, and Eeinette's lip quivered as she held out her hand and said : ' Th^k you, it will be better go ; good-by.* 54 QUEENIB HETUEHTON. CHAPTER IX. I