Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
The next morning Phoebe arose and feeling much refreshed dressed herself carefully and went downstairs. She had a quiet, grave look upon her face, but in her eyes there was a strange light which she could not keep back. Emmeline looked up in surprise when Phoebe came and took hold with the work. She began to say something slighting, but the look in Phoebe's face somehow stopped her. It was a look of joyful exaltation; and Emmeline, firmly believing that the girl was justly talked about, could not understand, and thought it hypocrisy.
Albert came in in a few minutes, and looked relieved.
" Well, Phoebe, I'm glad you've made up your mind to act sensibly, and come downstairs. It wasn't right to fight against what had to be and every one of us knew was for the best," he said.
Phoebe did not answer. In spite of the help that was coming to her it hurt her that Albert believed the slander against her, and the tears came into her eyes as he spoke. Emmeline saw them and spoke up in a sermonizing tone:
" It's right she should feel her shame and repent, Albert. Don't go an' soft-soap it over es ef she hadn't done nothin' to feel sorry fer."
Then Phoebe spoke.
" I have done nothing to feel sorry for, Emmeline. I have not sinned. I am only sorry that you have been willing to believe all this against me."
Then she went quietly on with her work, and said no more, though Emmeline's speech was unsealed and she gave Phoebe much good advice during the course of the day.
The next morning near church time Emmeline told Phoebe that Hiram was coming over to see her that morning, and she might open the front parlor to receive him.
" I don't wish to see Hiram, Emmeline," she answered, calmly. " I have nothing whatever to say to him."
" Well, upon my word, Phoebe Deane," said Emmeline, getting red in the face with indignation over the girl. " Goin' to git married to-morrow mornin' an' not wantin' to see Hiram Green! I should think you'd want to talk over 'rangements."
" Yes, I am going to be married to-morrow morning," said Phoebe, with a triumphant ring to her voice, "but I do not want to see Hiram Green. I have no arrangements to talk over with him. My arrangements are all made."
Phoebe went away to her room and remained there the rest of the day.
Nathaniel had arrived. She knew that by special messenger coming and going over the wood-shed roof. There had been sweet messages of cheer, and he had promised to come for her in the morning. Everything was arranged. She could possess her soul in peace and quietness and wait. Her enemies would soon be put to flight. Nathaniel had promised her that, and although she could not see in the least how, she trusted him perfectly.
She had sent her love to him and the locket with her mother's picture. It was all she had to give her lover, and he understood. It was the one she had worn the first time he ever saw her.
The balzarine frock was finished. The last hook was set in place before supper Saturday night, and Marcia had pronounced it very becoming. It was finished in spite of the fact that Miranda had made several secret excursions into the region of Hiram Green's house and farm. She had made discoveries which she told to no one, but over which she chuckled when quite alone in the kitchen at work. On her first trip she had seen him go out to his milking, and had passed close to the house, where his window was open. She had glanced in, and there on the sill her sharp eyes had discovered the bit of red seal with the lion's head upon it. She had carried too many letters with that seal not to know it at once, and she gleefully seized it and carried it to Nathaniel. She had evidence at last which would give her power over the enemy.
She also discovered that Hiram Green attended to his milking himself, and that he had a habit—if one might judge from two mornings as samples—of going to the spring- house himself with the milk and placing the pans on the great stone shelf. This she had seen by judicious hiding behind shrubbery, and trees, and spring-house itself, and spying upon him. Birds and squirrels tell no tales, and the dewy grass soon dried off and left no trace of her footsteps. During one of these excursions she had examined the fastening of the spring-house most carefully, and knew the possibilities of button, hasp, staple, and peg.
The Spaffords and Miranda went to church as usual, and so did the Bristols. The advent of Nathaniel and his friend Mr. Van Rensselaer in the Bristol pew diverted attention from the empty seat behind them, for this morning the Deanes were conspicuous by their absence.
The day passed quietly. Miranda made her usual visit in the early evening. Phoebe had asked her to stay with her, but Miranda said she had some things to do, and departed sooner than usual. The night settled into stillness and Phoebe slept in joyous assurance that it was her last night in the room where she had seen so much sorrow.
In the morning she went down to breakfast as usual. She did not eat much, to be sure, but drank some milk, and then washed the breakfast dishes as calmly as if she expected to keep on washing them all the rest of her life in this same kitchen.
" Hiram'll be over 'bout half past nine, I reckon," said Albert. He had been instructed by Emmeline to say this. " The minister won't come till ten. If you need to talk to Hiram you'll have plenty of time between. You better be all ready."
" I shall not need to talk to Hiram," said Phoebe, as she hung up the dish towels. There was that in her voice as she said it that made Albert look after her wonderingly.
" She's the queerest girl I ever see! " grumbled Emmeline. " One would think by her looks that she expected a chariot of fire to come down an' take her straight up to heaven, like 'Lijah. It's kind of dreadful the way she ac's! 'F I was Hiram I'd be 'fraid to marry her."
Miranda arrived over the shed roof soon after Phoebe went upstairs. She wore her old calico, andl if one who knew had observed closely, he would have said it was a calico that Miranda never used any more, for it was very old. Her hair was combed with precision and on her head was an elaborate New York bonnet with a white barege veil, but her balzarine was in a bundle under her arm. It was not calculated for roof travel. It was well for their plans that the shed roof was back and well hidden from the kitchen door, else Miranda might have been discovered.
" There! Emmeline can hev that f er a floor cloth," said Miranda, as she flung her old calico in the corner. " I don't calc'late to return fer it." She fastened her balzarine with satisfaction, adjusted her muslin shoulder cape, her bonnet, and mantilla, the latter a gift from Mrs. Spafford, laid her new sunshade on a chair, and pronounced herself ready.
" Has Hiram Green come yet ? " asked Phoebe, anxiously. She was dreading a scene with Hiram.
" Wai, no, not 'zactly," said Miranda. " An what's more, I don't think he will. Fact is I've got him fixed fer a spell, but I ain't goin' to say nothin' more 'bout it at present, 'cept that he's detained by bus'ness elsewhar. It's best you shouldn't know nothin' 'bout it ef there's questions ast, but you don't need to worry. 'Less sompin' quite unusual happens he ain't likely to turn up till after the ceremony. Now, whafs to do to you yet? Them hooks all fastened ? My, but you do look han'some!"
" Oh, Miranda, you haven't done anything dreadful, have you?"
" No, I ain't," laughed Miranda. " You'd jest split your sides laughin' ef you could see him 'bout now. But there! Don't say 'nother word. I hear voices. The Bristols hev come, an' the minister, too. I reckon your sister-in-law!! hev her hands full slammin' the door in all them faces."
Phoebe, aghast, pulled the curtain aside and peered out.
There in the yard were several carriages, and more driving in the gate. She could hear a great many voices all at once. She saw Mrs. Duzenberry and Susanna getting out of their chaise, and Lemuel Skinner and his wife Hannah, and she thought she heard the village dressmaker's voice high above all, sharp and rasping, the way it always was when she said: " That seam needs preesin'. It does hike up a mite, but it'll be all right when it's pressed."
Phoebe retreated in dismay from the window.
" Oh, Miranda! How did all those people get down there! Emmeline will be so angry. She is in her room dressing yet. It doesn't seem as if I dared go down."
" Fer the land sake, how should I know ? I s'pose Providence sent 'em, fer they can't say a single word after the ceremony's over. Their mouths'll be all nicely stopped. Don't you worry."
Miranda answered innocently, but for one instant as she looked at Phoebe's frightened face her guilty heart misgave her. Perhaps she had gone a step too far. For it was Miranda who had slipped here and there after church on Sunday and whispered a brief invitation to those who had gossiped the hardest, wording it in such a way that they all thought it was a personal invitation from Phoebe. In every case she had added, " Don't say nothin' till after it's over," and each thinking himself especially favored had arrived in conscious pride, and as they passed Hiram Green's new house they had remarked to themselves what a fine man he was for sticking to Phcebe in spite of all the talk.
But Miranda never told her part in this, and Emmeline never got done wondering who invited all those people.
Miranda's momentary confusion was covered by a gentle tap on the door, and Phoebe in a flutter rushed to hide her friend:
" I'm afraid it's Emmeline," she whispered. " She may not let you go down."
" Like to see her keep me np, said Miranda, boldly. " My folks hes come. I ain't 'fraid now," and she boldly swept the trembling bride out of the way and threw the door open.
Janet Bristol in a silken gown of palest pink entered and walked straight up to Phoebe.
" You dear little thing! " she exclaimed. " How sweet you look. That frock is beautiful and the veil makes you perfect. Nathaniel asked me to bring you this and make you wear it. It was his mother's."
She fastened a rope of pearls around Phoebe's neck and kissed her as a sister might have done.
Miranda stood back and gazed with satisfaction on the scene. All was as it should be. She saw nothing further to be desired. Her compunctions were gone.
" Nathaniel is waiting for you at the foot of the stairs," whispered Janet. " He has his mother's ring for you. He wanted me to tell you. Come, they are ready. You must go ahead."
Down the stairs went the trembling bride, followed by her bridesmaid. Miranda grasped her precious parasol and tiptoed on behind.
Nathaniel stood at the foot of the stairs, waiting for her. Emmeline, with a red and angry face, was waiting on her most unexpected guests and had no time to notice what was going on about her. The original wedding guests, consisting of a row of little Greens and the old housekeeper, were submerged in the Sunday gowns of the new arrivals.
" Where's Hiram," whispered Albert, in Emmeline's ear, just as she was giving Hiram's Aunt Keziah Dart a seat at the best end of the room.
" Goodness! Ain't he come yet ? I s'posed he was upstairs talkin' to Phoebe. I heard voices."
She wheeled around and there stood the wedding party.
Nathaniel, tall and handsome, with his shy, pale bride upon his arm; Janet, sparkling in her pink gown and enjoying the discomfiture of guests and hostess alike, and smiling over at Martin Van Rensselaer, who stood supporting the bridegroom on the other side; it bewildered Emmeline.
The little assemblage reached out into the front door yard, and peeped curiously in at the doors and windows as if loth to lose the choice scene that was passing. The old minister was talking now and a hush fell over the company.
Anger and amazement held Emmeline still as the ceremony progressed.
" Dearly beloved, we are gathered together " said
the minister, and Emmeline looked around for Hiram. Surely the ceremony was not beginning without him! And who was that girl in white under the veil? Not Phoebe! It could not be Phoebe Deane, who but a few short minutes before had been hanging up her dish towels. Where did she get that veil and frock? What had happened? How did all these people get here? Had Phoebe invited them? And why did not somebody stop it?
" Let him speak now, or forever after hold his peace," came the words, and Emmeline gave a great gasp and thought of the corner lot opposite the Seceder church.
It was then that Emmeline became conscious of Miranda in her balzarine and New York bonnet, the very impersonation of mischief, standing in the doorway just behind the bride and watching the scene with a face of triumph.
An impulse came to her to charge across the room upon the offending girl and put her out. Here surely was one who had no right in her house and knew it, too. Then all at once she caught the eye of Judge Bristol fixed sternly upon her face, and she became aware of her own countenance and restrained her feelings. For after all it was no mean thing to be allied to the house of Bristol, and to know that the cloud of dishonor which had threatened them was lifted forever. She looked at Judge Bristol's fine face and heavy white hair, and began to swell with conscious pride.
The last " I will" was spoken, the benediction was pronounced, and the hush that followed was broken by Nathaniel's voice.
" I want to say a few words," he said, " about a terrible mistake that has been made by the people of this village regarding my wife's character. I have made a most thorough investigation of the matter during the last two days and I find that the whole tiling originated in an infamous lie told with intention to harm one who is entirely innocent. I simply wish to say that whoever has spoken against my wife will have to answer to me for his words in a court of justice, and if any of you who are my friends wish to question any of her past actions be kind enough to come directly to me and they will be fully explained, for there is not a thing in her past that will not bear the searching light of purity and truth."