The Wide, Wide World

"No."

"Not a bit?"

"No."

"Ain't that funny! Then I'm better off than you. I say, Ellen, any one would think I was Miss Fortune's niece and you was somebody else, wouldn't they? Goodness! I'm glad I ain't. I am going to make part of the supper myself – what do you think of that? Miss Fortune always has grand suppers – when she has 'em at all; 'tain't very often, that's one thing. I wish she'd have a bee every week, I know, and let me come and help. Hark! – didn't I tell you? there's somebody coming this minute; don't you hear the sleigh-bells? I'll tell you who it is now; it's the Lawsons; you see if it ain't. It's good it's such a bright night – we can see 'em first-rate. There – here they come – just as I told you – here's Mimy Lawson, the first one – if there's anybody I do despise it's Mimy Lawson."

"Hush!" said Ellen. The door opened and the lady herself walked in, followed by three others – large, tall women, muffled from head to foot against the cold. The quiet kitchen was speedily changed into a scene of bustle. Loud talking and laughing – a vast deal of unrobing – pushing back and pulling up chairs on the hearth – and Nancy and Ellen running in and out of the room with countless wrappers, cloaks, shawls, comforters, hoods, mittens, and moccasins.

"What a precious muss it will be to get 'em all their own things when they come to go away again," said Nancy. "Throw 'em all down there, Ellen, in that heap. Now, come quick – somebody else'll be here directly."

"Which is Miss Mimy?" said Ellen.

"That big ugly woman in a purple frock. The one next her is Kitty – the black-haired one is Mary, and t'other is Fanny. Ugh! don't look at 'em; I can't bear 'em."

"Why?"

"'Cause I don't, I can tell you; reason good. They are as stingy as they can live. Their way is to get as much as they can out of other folks, and let other folks get as little as they can out of them. I know 'em. Just watch that purple frock when it comes to the eating. There's Mr. Bob."

"Mr. who?"

"Bob – Bob Lawson. He's a precious small young man for such a big one. There – go take his hat. Miss Fortune," said Nancy, coming forward, "mayn't the gentlemen take care of their own things in the stoop, or must the young ladies wait upon them too? t'other room won't hold everything neither."

This speech raised a general laugh, in the midst of which Mr. Bob carried his own hat and cloak into the shed as desired. Before Nancy had done chuckling came another arrival; a tall, lank gentleman, with one of those unhappy-shaped faces that are very broad at the eyes and very narrow across the chops, and having a particularly grave and dull expression. He was welcomed with such a shout of mingled laughter, greeting, and jesting, that the room was in a complete hurly-burly; and a plain-looking stout elderly lady, who had come in just behind him, was suffered to stand unnoticed.

"It's Miss Janet," whispered Nancy – "Mr. Marshchalk's aunt. Nobody wants to see her here; she's one of your pious kind, and that's a kind your aunt don't take to."

Instantly Ellen was at her side, offering gently to relieve her of hood and cloak, and with a tap on his arm drawing Mr. Van Brunt's attention to the neglected person.

Quite touched by the respectful politeness of her manner, the old lady inquired of Miss Fortune as Ellen went off with a load of mufflers, "Who was that sweet little thing?"

"It's a kind of sweetmeats that is kept for company, Miss Janet," replied Miss Fortune, with a darkened brow.

"She's too good for everyday use, that's a fact," remarked Mr. Van Brunt.

Miss Fortune coloured and tossed her head, and the company were for a moment still with surprise. Another arrival set them agoing again.

"Here come the Hitchcocks, Ellen," said Nancy. "Walk in, Miss Mary – walk in, Miss Jenny – Mr. Marshchalk has been here this great while."

Miss Mary Hitchcock was in nothing remarkable. Miss Jenny when her wrappers were taken off showed a neat little round figure, and a round face of very bright and good-humoured expression. It fastened Ellen's eye, till Nancy whispered her to look at Mr. Juniper Hitchcock, and that young gentleman entered dressed in the last style of elegance. His hair was arranged in a faultless manner – unless perhaps it had a little too much of the tallow-candle; for when he had sat for a while before the fire it had somewhat the look of being excessively wet with perspiration. His boots were as shiny as his hair; his waistcoat was of a startling pattern; his pantaloons were very tightly strapped down; and at the end of a showy watch-ribbon hung some showy seals.

The kitchen was now one buzz of talk and good-humour. Ellen stood half smiling to herself to see the universal smile, when Nancy twitched her.

"Here's more coming – Cilly Dennison, I guess – no, it's too tall; who is it?"

But Ellen flung open the door with a half-uttered scream and threw herself into the arms of Alice, and then led her in; her face full of such extreme joy that it was perhaps one reason why her aunt's wore a very doubtful air as she came forward. That could not stand however against the graceful politeness and pleasantness of Alice's greeting. Miss Fortune's brow smoothed, her voice cleared, she told Miss Humphreys she was very welcome, and she meant it. Clinging close to her friend as she went from one to another, Ellen was delighted to see that every one echoed the welcome. Every face brightened at meeting hers, every eye softened, and Jenny Hitchcock even threw her arms round Alice and kissed her.

Ellen left now the window to Nancy and stood fast by her adopted sister, with a face of satisfaction it was pleasant to see, watching her very lips as they moved. Soon the door opened again, and various voices hailed the new-comer as "Jane," "Jany," and "Jane Huff." She was a decidedly plain-looking country girl, but when she came near, Ellen saw a sober, sensible face and a look of thorough good-nature which immediately ranked her next to Jenny Hitchcock in her fancy. Mr. Bill Huff followed, a sturdy young man; quite as plain and hardly so sensible-looking, he was still more shining with good-nature. He made no pretension to the elegance of Mr. Juniper Hitchcock; but before the evening was over, Ellen had a vastly greater respect for him.

Last, not least, came the Dennisons; it took Ellen some time to make up her mind about them. Miss Cilly, or Cecilia, was certainly very elegant indeed. Her hair was in the extremest state of nicety, with a little round curl plastered in front of each ear; how she coaxed them to stay there Ellen could not conceive. She wore a real watch, there was no doubt of that, and there was even a ring on one of her fingers with two or three blue or red stones in it. Her dress was smart, and so was her figure, and her face was pretty; and Ellen overheard one of the Lawsons whisper to Jenny Hitchcock that "there wasn't a greater lady in the land than Cilly Dennison." Her brother was very different; tall and athletic, and rather handsome, he made no pretension to be a gentleman. He valued his fine farming and fine cattle a great deal higher than Juniper Hitchcock's gentility.

CHAPTER XXV

W' merry sangs, an' friendly cracks,
I wat they didna weary;
An' unco tales, an' funnie jokes,
Their sports were cheap an' cheery.

    – Burns.

As the party were all gathered it was time to set to work. The fire in the front room was burning up finely now, but Miss Fortune had no idea of having pork-chopping or apple-paring done there. One party was despatched downstairs into the lower kitchen; the others made a circle round the fire. Every one was furnished with a sharp knife, and a basket of apples was given to each two or three. Now, it would be hard to say whether talking or working went on best. Not faster moved the tongues than the fingers; not smoother went the knives than the flow of talk; while there was a constant leaping of quarters of apples from the hands that had prepared them into the bowls, trays, or what not that stood on the hearth to receive them. Ellen had nothing to do; her aunt had managed it so, though she would gladly have shared the work that looked so pretty and pleasant in other people's hands. Miss Fortune would not let her; so she watched the rest, and amused herself as well as she could with hearing and seeing; and standing between Alice and Jenny Hitchcock, she handed them the apples out of the basket as fast as they were ready for them. It was a pleasant evening that. Laughing and talking went on merrily; stories were told; anecdotes, gossip, jokes, passed from mouth to mouth; and not one made himself so agreeable, or had so much to do with the life and pleasure of the party, as Alice. Ellen saw it, delighted. The pared apples kept dancing into the bowls and trays; the baskets got empty surprisingly fast; Nancy and Ellen had to run to the barrels in the shed again and again for fresh supplies.

"Do they mean to do all these to-night?" said Ellen to Nancy on one of these occasions.

"I don't know what they mean, I am sure," replied Nancy, diving down into the barrel to reach the apples; "if you had asked me what Miss Fortune meant, I might ha' given a guess."

"But only look," said Ellen – "only so many done, and all these to do! – Well, I know what 'busy as a bee' means now if I never did before."

"You'll know it better to-morrow, I can tell you."

"Why?"

"Oh, wait till you see. I wouldn't be you to-morrow for something though. Do you like sewing?"

"Sewing!" said Ellen. But "Girls! girls! what are you leaving the door open for?" sounded from the kitchen, as they hurried in.

"Most got through, Nancy?" inquired Bob Lawson. (Miss Fortune had gone downstairs.)

"Ha'n't begun to, Mr. Lawson. There's every bit as many to do as there was at your house t'other night."

"What on airth does she want with such a sight of 'em," inquired Dan Dennison.

"Live on pies and apple-sass till next summer," suggested Mimy Lawson.

"That's the stuff for my money!" replied her brother; "'taters and apple-sass is my sass in the winter."

"It's good those is easy got," said his sister Mary; "the sass is the most of the dinner to Bob most commonly."

"Are they fixing for more apple-sass downstairs?" Mr. Dennison went on rather dryly.

"No – hush!" said Juniper Hitchcock – "sassages!"

"Humph!" said Dan, as he speared up an apple out of the basket on the point of his knife, "ain't that something like what you call killing two – "

"Just that exactly," said Jenny Hitchcock, as Dan broke off short, and the mistress of the house walked in. "Ellen," she whispered, "don't you want to go downstairs and see when the folks are coming up to help us? And tell the doctor he must be spry, for we ain't agoing to get through in a hurry," she added, laughing.

"Which is the doctor, ma'am?"