Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was angry too. "No unfair dealing about it, eh!" he muttered, looking after them. "Well, I say there has been; they've managed to keep other fellows at a distance from the girl without any regard to her wishes. But I'll soon put a stop to that game, my lads. See if I don't."

      He took a letter from his pocket as he spoke, unfolded it, handling it tenderly, and glanced over the contents with a smile of self-congratulation.

      "Ah, ha! we'll see if she'll be able to resist this!" he said, half aloud, as he refolded and returned it to its place in the breast-pocket of his coat.

      A sleigh was at that moment standing at the front door of the yellow house on the corner and into it Mr. Keith was assisting his wife and aunt. Then followed the babe and the three next in age. They were going to the country, to spend the day with their Lansdale acquaintances, the Wards.

      Mildred, Rupert, Zillah and Ada stood in the doorway to see them off.

      "You won't be back to tea?" Mildred said inquiringly.

      "No; but by bedtime," her father answered as he turned the horses' heads. "Now go in, all of you, out of the cold before you catch the ague."

      "What did Claudina say?" asked Mildred, addressing Rupert as they obeyed the order.

      "Yes, of course; isn't she always glad of a chance to come here?"

      "That's good. How soon?"

      "In about half an hour, I believe she said. So you'd better hear Ada's lessons and have them out of the way."

      It was some weeks now since Ada's heart had been rejoiced by a final deliverance from Miss Drybread's control and a return to the instruction of her sister. Mr. Lord still kept up his class and Mildred's zeal for study had not abated, but the minister had a funeral to attend at a distant point that afternoon; so there would be no recitations to interfere with the pleasure of a day with Claudina. Celestia Ann still kept her position in the family, and though only ten o'clock, the house was in order, and dinner and tea would require no supervision by the eldest daughter of the house.

      Claudina brought her sewing, and the two passed an uneventful, but pleasant day together, chatting over their work or reading aloud in turn; for Claudina was nearly as great a lover of books as was Mildred.

      Their talk was not largely of their neighbors, but some jests passed between them at Ransquattle's expense. They were quite severe in their criticisms, as young things are too apt to be; but if the ears of the victim burned it was not enough to prevent the act of folly he had in contemplation.

      Tea was over, Miss Hunsinger had removed the dishes to the kitchen; Mildred spread a bright colored cover over the table, placed the candles on it, and she and Claudina settled themselves to their sewing again; Zillah and Ada were the only other occupants of the room, Rupert having gone out.

      Presently there came a knock at the outer door.

      "I'll go," said Ada, running to open it.

      A man, Nicholas Ransquattle, stood on the threshold. Stepping past the child without speaking, he made directly for Mildred, and silently extended his right hand, between the thumb and forefinger of which he held a letter.

      In a sort of maze the girl took it, and with one of his profound obeisances, of one of which Cyril had remarked, "I thought he was going to squattle on the stove when he put his head down so low," he withdrew without having spoken a word.

      They could hear the crackling of the snow under his heavy tread as he walked away.

      "O Milly, what is it? what is it? what did he bring it for? had he been to the post-office?" the little girls were asking with eager curiosity.

      Mildred turned to Claudina. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, then burst into a simultaneous hearty laugh.

      "Did ever you see such a comical performance?"

      "Never! It's addressed to you of course?"

      "Yes."

      Seizing a candle, laughing and blushing, "Come, help me to read it," Mildred said. "We'll go up stairs where we won't be disturbed."

      "Mayn't we go too? mayn't we know what your letter's about?" pleaded the little girls as the older ones were hurrying away.

      "No, no! tisn't the sort for children like you to know about," laughed the sister. "Be good and stay here. We won't be gone long; and some day, perhaps, I'll tell you what it says."

      They hurried through the kitchen where Miss Hunsinger was vigorously setting things to rights, up the crooked stairway and on into Aunt Wealthy's room, fastened the door and proceeded to examine the missive.

      It was an offer to Miss Mildred Keith, of the heart, hand and fortune of the writer, Nicholas Ransquattle, who denominated himself her devoted worshiper and slave, and addressed her as an angel and the loveliest and sweetest of created beings. The girls giggled over it at first, but at length Mildred threw it down in supreme disgust.

      "Such stuff and nonsense! it's perfectly sickening! I'm anything but an angel; especially when I lose my temper. And I believe I'm losing it now; for I feel insulted by an offer from such a conceited booby!"

      "Somebody's coming!" exclaimed Claudina.

      "Yes; Rupert. I know his step. Well, Ru, what is it?" as the boy rapped lightly on the door.

      "Why before you answer that letter and accept the fellow, let me tell you something."

      Mildred threw open the door.

      "Who told you I had one?"

      "The children told me about old Nick bringing you a letter," he answered laughing, but looking angry too, "and it's easy enough to guess the subject; particularly since I heard a bit of news over yonder at the smithy. Gote Lightcap says he heard him—old Nick—boasting this morning, before several young men, that he was going to marry Mildred Keith."

      For a minute or more Mildred did not speak; she had probably never felt so angry in all her life.

      "The conceited puppy!" she cried at last, "wouldn't I like to take some of it out of him!"

      "Good for you!" cried Rupert clapping his hands. "I knew you'd be mad. And wouldn't I like to horsewhip him for his impudence?"

      "But it isn't right," said Mildred, already cooling down a little and ashamed of her outburst. "You couldn't thrash him, Ru, but instead you shall, if you will, have the pleasure of carrying him my answer."

      "Tell me what it is first."

      Mildred took the letter and wrote, in pencil, beneath the signature, "The above offer is positively declined; all future visits on the part of the writer also," and signed her name. "There, return it," she said, "with the information that it is my final reply."

      Chapter Sixteenth.

       Table of Contents

      "Oh jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship,

       СКАЧАТЬ