Queen of Spades
"Mother," remarked Farmer Banning, discontentedly, "Susie ismaking a long visit.""She is coming home next week," said his cheery wife. She haddrawn her low chair close to the air-tight stove, for a late Marchsnowstorm was raging without."It seems to me that I miss her more and more.""Well, I'm not jealous.""Oh, come, wife, you needn't be. The idea! But I'd be jealous ifour little girl was sorter weaned away from us by this visit intown.""Now, see here, father, you beat all the men I ever heard of inscolding about farmers borrowing, and here you are borrowingtrouble.""Well, I hope I won't have to pay soon. But I've been thinkingthat the old farmhouse may look small and appear lonely after hergay winter. When she is away, it's too big for me, and a suspicionlonely for us both. I've seen that you've missed her more than Ihave.""I guess you're right. Well, she's coming home, as I said, and wemust make home seem home to her. The child's growing up. Why,she'll be eighteen week after next. You must give her somethingnice on her birthday.""I will," said the farmer, his rugged, weather-beaten facesoftening with memories. "Is our little girl as old as that? Why,only the other day I was carrying her on my shoulder to the barnand tossing her into the haymow. Sure enough, the 10th of Aprilwill be her birthday. Well, she shall choose her own present."On the afternoon of the 5th of April he went down the long bill tothe station, and was almost like a lover in his eagerness to seehis child. He had come long before the train's schedule time, butwas rewarded at last. When Susie appeared, she gave him a kissbefore every one, and a glad greeting which might have satisfiedthe most exacting of lovers. He watched her furtively as they rodeat a smart trot up the hill. Farmer Banning kept no old nags forhis driving, but strong, well-fed, spirited horses that sometimesdrew a light vehicle almost by the reins. "Yes," he thought, "shehas grown a little citified. She's paler, and has a certain air orstyle that don't seem just natural to the hill. Well, thank theLord! she doesn't seem sorry to go up the hill once more.""There's the old place, Susie, waiting for you," he said. "Itdoesn't look so very bleak, does it, after all the fine cityhouses you've seen?""Yes, father, it does. It never appeared so bleak before."He looked at his home, and in the late gray afternoon, saw it in ameasure with her eyes--the long brown, bare slopes, a few gauntold trees about the house, and the top boughs of the apple-orchardbehind a sheltering hill in the rear of the dwelling."Father," resumed the girl, "we ought to call our place the BleakHouse. I never so realized before how bare and desolate it looks,standing there right in the teeth of the north wind."His countenance fell, but he had no time for comment. A momentlater Susie was in her mother's arms. The farmer lifted the trunkto the horse-block and drove to the barn. "I guess it will be theold story," he muttered. "Home has become 'Bleak House.' I supposeit did look bleak to her eyes, especially at this season. Well,well, some day Susie will go to the city to stay, and then it willbe Bleak House sure enough.""Oh, father," cried his daughter when, after doing his eveningwork, he entered with the shadow of his thoughts still upon hisface--"oh, father, mother says I can choose my birthday present!""Yes, Sue; I've passed my word.""And so I have your bond. My present will make you open youreyes.""And pocket-book too, I suppose. I'll trust you, however, not tobreak me. What is it to be?""I'll tell you the day before, and not till then."After supper they drew around the stove. Mrs. Banning got out herknitting, as usual, and prepared for city gossip. The farmerrubbed his hands over the general aspect of comfort, andespecially over the regained presence of his child's bright face."Well, Sue," he remarked, "you'll own that this room in the housedoesn't look very bleak?""No, father, I'll own nothing of the kind. Your face and mother'sare not bleak, but the room is.""Well," said the farmer, rather disconsolately, "I fear the oldplace has been spoiled for you. I was saying to mother before youcame home--""There now, father, no matter about what you were saying. LetSusie tell us why the room is bleak."The girl laughed softly, got up, and taking a billet of wood fromthe box, put it into the air-tight. "The stove has swallowed itjust as old Trip did his supper. Shame! you greedy dog," sheadded, caressing a great Newfoundland that would not leave her amoment. "Why can't you learn to eat your meals like a gentleman?"Then to her father, "Suppose we could sit here and see the flamescurling all over and around that stick. Even a camp in the woodsis jolly when lighted up by a flickering blaze.""Oh--h!" said the farmer; "you think an open fire would take awaythe bleakness?""Certainly. The room would be changed instantly, and mother's facewould look young and rosy again. The blue-black of this sheet-ironstove makes the room look blue-black.""Open fires don't give near as much heat," said her father,meditatively. "They take an awful lot of wood; and wood is gettingscarce in these parts.""I should say so! Why don't you farmers get together, appoint acommittee to cut down every tree remaining, then make it a State-prison offence ever to set out another? Why, father, you cutnearly all the trees from your lot a few years ago and sold thewood. Now that the trees are growing again, you are talking ofclearing up the land for pasture. Just think of the comfort wecould get out of that wood-lot! What crop would pay better? Allthe upholsterers in the world cannot furnish a room as an openhardwood fire does; and all the produce of the farm could not buyanything else half so nice.""Say, mother," said her father, after a moment, "I guess I'll getdown that old Franklin from the garret to-morrow and see if itcan't furnish this room."The next morning he called rather testily to the hired man, whowas starting up the lane with an axe, "Hiram, I've got other workfor you. Don't cut a stick in that wood-lot unless I tell you."The evening of the 9th of April was cool but clear, and the farmersaid, genially, "Well, Sue, prospects good for fine weather onyour birthday. Glad of it; for I suppose you will want me to go totown with you for your present, whatever it is to be.""You'll own up a girl can keep a secret now, won't you?""He'll have to own more'n that," added his wife; "he must own thatan ole woman hasn't lost any sleep from curiosity.""How much will be left me to own to-morrow night?" said thefarmer, dubiously. "I suppose Sue wants a watch studded withdiamonds, or a new house, or something else that she darsn't speakof till the last minute, even to her mother.""Nothing of the kind. I want only all your time tomorrow, and allHiram's time, after you have fed the stock.""All our time!"Yes, the entire day, in which you both are to do just what Iwish. You are not going gallivanting to the city, but will have towork hard.""Well, I'm beat! I don't know what you want any more than I did atfirst.""Yes, you do--your time and Hiram's.""Give it up. It's hardly the season for a picnic. "We might gofishing--""We must go to bed, so as to be up early, all hands.""Oh, hold on, Sue; I do like this wood-fire. If it wouldn't makeyou vain, I'd tell you how--""Pretty, father. Say it out.""Oh, you know it, do you? Well, how pretty you look in thefirelight. Even mother, there, looks ten years younger. Keep yourlow seat, child, and let me look at you. So you're eighteen? My!my! how the years roll around! It will be Bleak House for motherand me, in spite of the wood-fire, when you leave us.""It won't be Bleak House much longer," she replied with asignificant little nod.The next morning at an early hour the farmer said, "All ready,Sue. Our time is yours till night; so queen it over us." And blackHiram grinned acquiescence, thinking he was to have an easy time."Queen it, did you say?" cried Sue, in great spirits. "Well, then,I shall be queen of spades. Get 'em, and come with me. Bring apickaxe, too." She led the way to a point not far from thedwelling, and resumed: "A hole here, father, a hole there, Hiram,big enough for a small hemlock, and holes all along the northeastside of the house. Then lots more holes, all over the lawn, foroaks, maples, dogwood, and all sorts to pretty trees, especiallyevergreens.'"Oh, ho!" cried the farmer; "now I see the hole where thewoodchuck went in.""But you don't see the hole where he's coming out. When that isdug, even the road will be lined with trees. Foolish old father!you thought I'd be carried away with city gewgaws, fine furniture,dresses, and all that sort of thing. You thought I'd be pining forwhat you couldn't afford, what wouldn't do you a particle of good,nor me either, in the long run. I'm going to make you set outtrees enough to double the value of your place and take all thebleakness and bareness from this hillside. To-day is only thebeginning. I did get some new notions in the city which made mediscontented with my home, but they were not the notions you wereworrying about. In the suburbs I saw that the most costly houseswere made doubly attractive by trees and shrubbery, and I knewthat trees would grow for us as well as for millionaires--Myconscience! if there isn't--" and the girl frowned and bit herlips."Is that one of the city beaux you were telling us about?" askedher father, sotto voce."Yes; but I don't want any beaux around to-day. I didn't thinkhe'd be so persistent." Then, conscious that she was not dressedfor company, but for work upon which she had set her heart, sheadvanced and gave Mr. Minturn a rather cool greeting.But the persistent beau was equal to the occasion. He had enduredSue's absence as long as he could, then had resolved on a longday's siege, with a grand storming-onset late in the afternoon."Please, Miss Banning," he began, "don't look askance at me forcoming at this unearthly hour. I claim the sacred rites ofhospitality. I'm an invalid. The doctor said I needed country air,or would have prescribed it if given a chance. You said I mightcome to see you some day, and by playing Paul Pry I found out, youremember, that this was your birthday, and--""And this is my father, Mr. Minturn."Mr. Minturn shook the farmer's hand with a cordiality calculatedto awaken suspicions of his designs in a pump, had its handle beenthus grasped. "Mr. Banning will forgive me for appearing with thelark," he continued volubly, determining to break the ice. "Onecan't get the full benefit of a day in the country if he starts inthe afternoon."The farmer was polite, but nothing more. If there was one thingbeyond all others with which he could dispense, it was a beau forSue.Sue gave her father a significant, disappointed glance, whichmeant, "I won't get my present to day"; but he turned and said toHiram, "Dig the hole right there, two feet across, eighteen inchesdeep." Then he started for the house. While not ready for suitors,his impulse to bestow hospitality was prompt.The alert Mr. Minturn had observed the girl's glance, and knewthat the farmer had gone to prepare his wife for a guest. Hedetermined not to remain unless assured of a welcome. "Come, MissBanning," he said, "we are at least friends, and should be frank.How much misunderstanding and trouble would often be saved ifpeople would just speak their thought! This is your birthday--yourday. It should not be marred by any one. It would distress mekeenly if I were the one to spoil it. Why not believe me literallyand have your way absolutely about this day? I could come anothertime. Now show that a country girl, at least, can speak her mind."With an embarrassed little laugh she answered, "I'm half inclinedto take you at your word; but it would look so inhospitable.""Bah for looks! The truth, please. By the way, though, you neverlooked better than in that trim blue walking-suit.""Old outgrown working-suit, you mean. How sincere you are!""Indeed I am. Well, I'm de trop; that much is plain. You will letme come another day, won't you?""Yes, and I'll be frank too and tell you about this day. Father'sa busy man, and his spring work is beginning, but as my birthday-present he has given me all his time and all Hiram's yonder. Well,I learned in the city how trees improved a home; and I had plannedto spend this long day in setting out trees--planned it ever sincemy return. So you see--""Of course I see and approve," cried Minturn. "I know now why Ihad such a wild impulse to come out here to-day. Why, certainly.Just fancy me a city tramp looking for work, and not praying Iwon't find it, either. I'll work for my board. I know how to setout trees. I can prove it, for I planted those thrifty fellowsgrowing about our house in town. Think how much more you'llaccomplish, with another man to help--one that you can orderaround to your heart's content.""The idea of my putting you to work!""A capital idea! and if a man doesn't work when a woman puts himat it he isn't worth the powder--I won't waste time even inoriginal remarks. I'll promise you there will be double the numberof trees out by night. Let me take your father's spade and showyou how I can dig. Is this the place? If I don't catch up withHiram, you may send the tramp back to the city." And before shecould remonstrate, his coat was off and he at work.Laughing, yet half in doubt, she watched him. The way he made theearth fly was surprising. "Oh, come," she said after a fewmoments, "you have shown your goodwill. A steam-engine could notkeep it up at that rate.""Perhaps not; but I can. Before you engage me, I wish you to knowthat I am equal to old Adam, and can dig.""Engage you!" she thought with a little flutter of dismay. "Icould manage him with the help of town conventionalities; but howwill it be here? I suppose I can keep father and Hiram withinearshot, and if he is so bent on--well, call it a lark, since hehas referred to that previous bird, perhaps I might as well have alark too, seeing it's my birthday." Then she spoke. "Mr. Minturn!""I'm busy.""But really--""And truly tell me, am I catching up with Hiram?""You'll get down so deep that you'll drop through if you're notcareful.""There's nothing like having a man who is steady working for you.Now, most fellows would stop and giggle at such little amusingremarks.""You are soiling your trousers.""Yes, you're right. They are mine. There; isn't that a regulationhole? 'Two feet across and eighteen deep.'""Yah! yah!" cackled Hiram; "eighteen foot deep! Dat ud be a well.""Of course it would, and truth would lie at its bottom. Can Istay, Miss Banning?""Did you ever see the like?" cried the farmer, who had appeared,unnoticed."Look here, father," said the now merry girl, "perhaps I wasmistaken. This--""Tramp--" interjected Minturn."Says he's looking for work and knows how to set out trees.""And will work all day for a dinner," the tramp promptly added."If he can dig holes at that rate, Sue," said her father, catchingtheir spirit, "he's worth a dinner. But you're boss to-day; I'monly one of the hands.""I'm only another," said Minturn, touching his hat."Boss, am I? I'll soon find out. Mr. Minturn, come with me and dona pair of overalls. You shan't put me to shame, wearing thatspick-and-span suit, neither shall you spoil it. Oh, you're in forit now! You might have escaped, and come another day, when I couldhave received you in state and driven you out behind father'sfrisky bays, When you return to town with blistered hands andaching bones, you will at least know better another time.""I don't know any better this time, and just yearn for thoseoveralls.""To the house, then, and see mother before you become a wreck."Farmer Banning looked after him and shook his head. Hiram spokehis employer's thought, "Dar ar gem'lin act like he gwine ter sethisself out on dis farm."Sue had often said, "I can never be remarkable for anything; but Iwon't be commonplace." So she did not leave her guest in theparlor while she rushed off for a whispered conference with hermother. The well-bred simplicity of her manner, which oftenstopped just short of brusqueness, was never more apparent thannow. "Mother!" she called from the parlor door.The old lady gave a few final directions to her maid-of-all-work,and then appeared."Mother, this is Mr. Minturn, one of my city friends, of whom Ihave spoken to you. He is bent on helping me set out trees.""Yes, Mrs. Banning, so bent that your daughter found that shewould have to employ her dog to get me off the place."Now, it had so happened that in discussing with her mother theyoung men whom she had met, Sue had said little about Mr. Minturn;but that little was significant to the experienced matron. Wordshad slipped out now and then which suggested that the girl didmore thinking than talking concerning him; and she always referredto him in some light which she chose to regard as ridiculous, butwhich had not seemed in the least absurd to the attentivelistener. When her husband, therefore, said that Mr. Minturn hadappeared on the scene, she felt that an era of portentous eventshad begun. The trees to be set out would change the old placegreatly, but a primeval forest shading the door would be asnothing compared with the vicissitude which a favored "beau" mightproduce. But mothers are more unselfish than fathers, and aretheir daughters' natural allies unless the suitor isobjectionable. Mrs. Banning was inclined to be hospitable ongeneral principles, meantime eager on her own account to seesomething of this man, about whom she had presentiments. So shesaid affably, "My daughter can keep her eye on the work which sheis so interested in, and yet give you most of her time.--Susan, Iwill entertain Mr. Minturn while you change your dress."She glanced at her guest dubiously, receiving for the moment theimpression that the course indicated by her mother was the correctone. The resolute admirer knew well what a fiasco the day would beshould the conventionalities prevail, and so said promptly: "Mrs.Banning, I appreciate your kind intentions, and I hope some dayyou may have the chance to carry them out. To-day, as your husbandunderstands, I am a tramp from the city looking for work. I havefound it, and have been engaged.--Miss Banning, I shall hold youinflexibly to our agreement--a pair of overalls and dinner."Sue said a few words of explanation. Her mother laughed, buturged, "Do go and change your dress.""I protest!" cried Mr. Minturn. "The walking-suit and overalls gotogether.""Walking-suit, indeed!" repeated Sue, disdainfully. "But I shallnot change it. I will not soften one feature of the scrape youhave persisted in getting yourself into.""Please don't.""Mr. Minturn," said the matron, with smiling positiveness, "Susieis boss only out of doors; I am, in the house. There is a fresh-made cup of coffee and some eggs on toast in the dining-room.Having taken such an early start, you ought to have a lunch beforebeing put to work.""Yes," added Sue, "and the out-door boss says you can't go to workuntil at least the coffee is sipped.""She's shrewd, isn't she, Mrs. Banning? She knows she will gettwice as much work out of me on the strength of that coffee.Please get the overalls. I will not sip, but swallow the coffee,unless it's scalding, so that no time may be lost. Miss Banningmust see all she had set her heart upon accomplished to-day, and agreat deal more."The matron departed on her quest, and as she pulled out theoveralls, nodded her head significantly. "Things will be serioussure enough if he accomplishes all he has set his heart on," shemuttered. "Well, he doesn't seem afraid to give us a chance to seehim. He certainly will look ridiculous in these overalls, but notmuch more so than Sue in that old dress. I do wish she wouldchange it."The girl had considered this point, but with characteristicdecision had thought: "No; he shall see us all on the plainestside of our life. He always seemed a good deal of an exquisite intown, and he lives in a handsome house. If to-day's experience atthe old farm disgusts him, so be it. My dress is clean and tidy,if it is outgrown and darned; and mother is always neat, no matterwhat she wears. I'm going through the day just as I planned; andif he's too fine for us, now is the time to find it out. He mayhave come just for a lark, and will laugh with his folks to-nightover the guy of a girl I appear; but I won't yield even to theputting of a ribbon in my hair."Mrs. Banning never permitted the serving of cold slops for coffee,and Mr. Minturn had to sip the generous and fragrant beverageslowly. Meanwhile, his thoughts were busy. "Bah! for the oldsaying, 'Take the goods the gods send,'" he mused. "Go after yourgoods and take your pick. I knew my head was level in coming out.All is just as genuine as I supposed it would be--simple, honest,homely. The girl isn't homely, though, but she's just as genuineas all the rest, in that old dress which fits her like a glove. Noshams and disguises on this field-day of my life. And her mother!A glance at her comfortable amplitude banished my one fear.There's not a sharp angle about her. I was satisfied about MissSue, but the term 'mother-in-law' suggests vague terrors to anyman until reassured.--Ah, Miss Banning," he said, "this coffeewould warm the heart of an anchorite. No wonder you are inspiredto fine things after drinking such nectar.""Yes, mother is famous for her coffee. I know that's fine, and youcan praise it; but I'll not permit any ironical remarks concerningmyself.""I wouldn't, if I were you, especially when you are mistress ofthe situation. Still, I can't help having my opinion of you. Whyin the world didn't you choose as your present something stylishfrom the city?""Something, I suppose you mean, in harmony with my very stylishsurroundings and present appearance.""I didn't mean anything of the kind, and fancy you know it. Ah!here are the overalls. Now deeds, not words. I'll leave my coat,watch, cuffs, and all impedimenta with you, Mrs. Banning. Am I nota spectacle to men and gods?" he added, drawing up the garment,which ceased to be nether in that it reached almost to hisshoulders."Indeed you are," cried Sue, holding her side from laughing. Mrs.Banning also vainly tried to repress her hilarity over the absurdguy into which the nattily-dressed city man had transformedhimself."Come," he cried, "no frivolity! You shall at least say I kept myword about the trees to-day." And they started at once for thescene of action, Minturn obtaining on the way a shovel from thetool-room."To think she's eighteen years old and got a beau!" muttered thefarmer, as he and Hiram started two new holes. They were dug andothers begun, yet the young people had not returned. "That's theway with young men nowadays--'big cry, little wool.' I thought Iwas going to have Sue around with me all day. Might as well getused to it, I suppose. Eighteen! Her mother's wasn't much olderwhen--yes, hang it, there's always a when with these likely girls.I'd just like to start in again on that day when I tossed her intothe haymow.""What are you talking to yourself about, father?""Oh! I thought I had seen the last of you to-day.""Perhaps you will wish you had before night.""Well, now, Sue! the idea of letting Mr. Minturn rig himself outlike that! There's no use of scaring the crows so long beforecorn-planting." And the farmer's guffaw was quickly joined byHiram's broad "Yah! yah!"She frowned a little as she said, "He doesn't look any worse thanI do.""Come, Mr. Banning, Solomon in all his glory could not so takeyour daughter's eye to-day as a goodly number of trees standingwhere she wants them. I suggest that you loosen the soil with thepickaxe, then I can throw it out rapidly. Try it."The farmer did so, not only for Minturn, but for Hiram also. Thelightest part of the work thus fell to him. "We'll change about,"he said, "when you get tired."But Minturn did not get weary apparently, and under this newdivision of the toil the number of holes grew apace."Sakes alive, Mr. Minturn!" ejaculated Mr. Banning, "one wouldthink you had been brought up on a farm.""Or at ditch-digging," added the young man. "No; my profession isto get people into hot water and then make them pay roundly to getout. I'm a lawyer. Times have changed in cities. It's there you'llfind young men with muscle, if anywhere. Put your hand here, sir,and you'll know whether Miss Banning made a bad bargain in hiringme for the day.""Why!" exclaimed the astonished farmer, "you have the muscle of ablacksmith.""Yes, sir; I could learn that trade in about a month.""You don't grow muscle like that in a law-office?""No, indeed; nothing but bills grow there. A good fashion, if notabused, has come in vogue, and young men develop their bodies aswell as brains. I belong to an athletic club in town, and couldtake to pugilism should everything else fail.""Is there any prospect of your coming to that?" Sue askedmischievously."If we were out walking, and two or three rough fellows gave youimpudence--" He nodded significantly."What could you do against two or three? They'd close on you.""A fellow taught to use his hands doesn't let men close on him.""Yah, yah! reckon not," chuckled Hiram. One of the farm householdhad evidently been won."It seems to me," remarked smiling Sue, "that I saw several youngmen in town who appeared scarcely equal to carrying their canes.""Dudes?""That's what they are called, I believe.""They are not men. They are neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, but thebeginning of the great downward curve of evolution. Men came upfrom monkeys, it's said, you know, but science is in despair overthe final down-comes of dudes. They may evolute intograsshoppers."The farmer was shaken with mirth, and Sue could not help seeingthat he was having a good time. She, however, felt that notranquilly exciting day was before her, as she had anticipated.What wouldn't that muscular fellow attempt before night? Hepossessed a sort of vim and cheerful audacity which made hertremble, "He is too confident," she thought, "and needs a lesson.All this digging is like that of soldiers who soon mean to droptheir shovels. I don't propose to be carried by storm just when hegets ready. He can have his lark, and that's all to-day. I want agood deal of time to think before I surrender to him or any oneelse."During the remainder of the forenoon these musings prevented theslightest trace of sentimentality from appearing in her face orwords. She had to admit mentally that Minturn gave her no occasionfor defensive tactics. He attended as strictly to business as didHiram, and she was allowed to come and go at will. At first shemerely ventured to the house, to "help mother," as she said. Then,with growing confidence, she went here and there to select sitesfor trees; but Minturn dug on no longer "like a steam-engine," yetin an easy, steady, effective way that was a continual surprise tothe farmer."Well, Sue," said her father at last, "you and mother ought tohave an extra dinner; for Mr. Minturn certainly has earned one.""I promised him only a dinner," she replied; "nothing was saidabout its being extra.""Quantity is all I'm thinking of," said Minturn. "I have the saucewhich will make it a feast.""Beckon it's gwine on twelve," said Hiram, cocking his eye at thesun. "Hadn't I better feed de critters?""Ah, old man! own up, now; you've got a backache," said Minturn."Dere is kin' ob a crik comin'--""Drop work, all hands," cried Sue. "Mr. Minturn has a 'crik' also,but he's too proud to own it. How you'll groan for this to-morrow,sir!""If you take that view of the case, I may be under the necessityof giving proof positive to the contrary by coming out to-morrow.""You're not half through yet. The hardest part is to come.""Oh, I know that," he replied; and he gave her such a humorouslyappealing glance that she turned quickly toward the house to hidea conscious flush.The farmer showed him to the spare-room, in which he found hisbelongings. Left to make his toilet, he muttered, "Ah, better andbetter! This is not the regulation refrigerator into which guestsare put at farmhouses. All needed for solid comfort is here, evento a slight fire in the air-tight. Now, isn't that rosy old lady ajewel of a mother-in-law? She knows that a warm man shouldn't getchilled just as well as if she had studied athletics. Miss Sue,however, is a little chilly. She's on the fence yet. Jupiter! I amtired. Oh, well, I don't believe I'll have seven years of thiskind of thing. You were right, though, old man, if your Rachel waslike mine. What's that rustle in the other room? She's dressingfor dinner. So must I; and I'm ready for it. If she has romanticideas about love and lost appetites, I'm a goner."When he descended to the parlor, his old stylish self again, Suewas there, robed in a gown which he had admired before, revealingthe fact to her by approving glances. But now he said, "You don'tlook half so well as you did before.""I can't say that of you," she replied."A man's looks are of no consequence.""Few men think so.""Oh, they try to please such critical eyes as I now am meeting.""And throw dust in them too sometimes.""Yes; gold dust, often. I haven't much of that.""It would be a pity to throw it away if you had.""No matter how much was thrown, I don't think it would blind you,Miss Banning."The dining-room door across the hall opened, and the host andhostess appeared. "Why, father and mother, how fine you look!""It would be strange indeed if we did not honor this day," saidMrs. Banning. "I hope you have not so tired yourself, sir, thatyou cannot enjoy your dinner. I could scarcely believe my eyes asI watched you from the window.""I am afraid I shall astonish you still more at the table. I amsimply ravenous.""This is your chance," cried Sue. "You are now to be paid in thecoin you asked for."Sue did remark to herself by the time they reached dessert andcoffee, "I need have no scruples in refusing a man with such anappetite; he won't pine. He is a lawyer, sure enough. He is justwinning father and mother hand over hand."Indeed, the bosom of good Mrs. Banning must have been environedwith steel not to have had throbs of goodwill toward one whoshowed such hearty appreciation of her capital dinner. But Suebecame only the more resolved that she was not going to yield soreadily to this muscular suitor who was digging and eating his waystraight into the hearts of her ancestors, and she proposed to beunusually elusive and alert during the afternoon. She was a littlesurprised when he resumed his old tactics.After drinking a second cup of coffee, he rose, and said, "As anhonest man, I have still a great deal to do after such a dinner.""Well, it has just done me good to see you," said Mrs. Banning,smiling genially over her old-fashioned coffee-pot. "I feel highlycomplimented.""I doubt whether I shall be equal to another such complimentbefore the next birthday. I hope, Miss Susie, you have observed myefforts to do honor to the occasion?""Oh," cried the girl, "I naturally supposed you were trying to geteven in your bargain.""I hope to be about sundown. I'll get into those overalls at once,and I trust you will put on your walking-suit.""Yes, it will be a walking-suit for a short time. We must walk tothe wood-lot for the trees, unless you prefer to ride.--Father,please tell Hiram to get the two-horse wagon ready."When the old people were left alone, the farmer said, "Well,mother, Sue has got a suitor, and if he don't suit her--" And thenhis wit gave out."There, father, I never thought you'd come to that. It's well shehas, for you will soon have to be taken care of.""He's got the muscle to do it. He shall have my law-business,anyway.""Thank the Lord, it isn't much; but that's not saying he shallhave Sue.""Why, what have you against him?""Nothing so far. I was only finding out if you had anythingagainst him.""Lawyers, indeed! What would become of the men if women turnedlawyers. Do you think Sue--""Hush!"They all laughed till the tears came when Minturn again appeareddressed for work; but he nonchalantly lighted a cigar and wasentirely at his ease.Sue was armed with thick gloves and a pair of pruning-nippers.Minturn threw a spade and pickaxe on his shoulder, and Mr.Banning, whom Sue had warned threateningly "never to be far away,"tramped at their side as they went up the lane. Apparently therewas no need of such precaution, for the young man seemed whollybent on getting up the trees, most of which she had selected andmarked during recent rambles. She helped now vigorously, pullingon the young saplings as they loosened the roots, then trimmingthem into shape. More than once, however, she detected glances,and his thoughts were more flattering than she imagined. "Whatvigor she has in that supple, rounded form! Her very touch oughtto put life into these trees; I know it would into me. How youngshe looks in that comical old dress which barely reaches herankles! Yes, Hal Minturn; and remember, that trim little ankle canput a firm foot down for or against you--so no blundering."He began to be doubtful whether he would make his grand attackthat day, and finally decided against it, unless a very favorableopportunity occurred, until her plan of birthday-work had beencarried out and he had fulfilled the obligation into which he hadentered in the morning. He labored on manfully, seconding all herwishes, and taking much pains to get the young trees up with anabundance of fibrous roots. At last his assiduity induced her torelent a little, and she smiled sympathetically as she remarked,"I hope you are enjoying yourself. Well, never mind; some otherday you will fare better.""Why should I not enjoy myself?" he asked in well-feignedsurprise. "What condition of a good time is absent? Even an Aprilday has forgotten to be moody, and we are having unclouded, genialsunshine. The air is delicious with springtime fragrance. Wereever hemlocks so aromatic as these young fellows? They come out ofthe ground so readily that one would think them aware of theirproud destiny. Of course I'm enjoying myself. Even the robins andsparrows know it, and are singing as if possessed.""Hadn't you better give up your law-office and turn farmer?""This isn't farming. This is embroidery-work.""Well, if all these trees grow they will embroider the old place,won't they?""They'll grow, every mother's son of 'em.""What makes you so confident?""I'm not confident. That's where you are mistaken." And he gaveher such a direct, keen look that she suddenly found something todo elsewhere."I declare!" she exclaimed mentally, "he seems to read my verythoughts."At last the wagon was loaded with trees enough to occupy the holeswhich had been dug, and they started for the vicinity of thefarmhouse again. Mr. Banning had no match-making proclivitieswhere Sue was concerned, as may be well understood, and had neverbeen far off. Minturn, however, had appeared so single-minded inhis work, so innocent of all designs upon his daughter, that theold man began to think that this day's performance was only atentative and preliminary skirmish, and that if there were dangerit lurked in the unknown future. He was therefore inclined to beless vigilant, reasoning philosophically, "I suppose it's got tocome some time or other. It looks as if Sue might go a good dealfurther than this young man and fare worse. But then she's onlyeighteen, and he knows it. I guess he's got sense enough not toplant his corn till the sun's higher. He can see with half an eyethat my little girl isn't ready to drop, like an over-ripe apple."Thus mixing metaphors and many thoughts, he hurried ahead to openthe gate for Hiram."I'm in for it now," thought Sue, and she instinctively assumed anindifferent expression and talked volubly of trees."Yes, Miss Banning," he said formally, "by the time your hair istinged with gray the results of this day's labor will be seen farand wide. No passenger in the cars, no traveller in the valley,but will turn his eyes admiringly in this direction.""I wasn't thinking of travellers," she answered, "but of making anattractive home in which I can grow old contentedly. Some day whenyou have become a gray-haired and very dignified judge you maycome out and dine with us again. You can then smoke your cigarunder a tree which you helped to plant.""Certainly, Miss Banning. With such a prospect, how could youdoubt that I was enjoying myself? What suggested the judge? Mypresent appearance?"The incongruity of the idea with his absurd aspect and a certaindegree of nervousness set her off again, and she startled therobins by a laugh as loud and clear as their wild notes."I don't care," she cried. "I've had a jolly birthday, and amaccomplishing all on which I had set my heart.""Yes, and a great deal more, Miss Banning," he replied with aformal bow. "In all your scheming you hadn't set your heart on mycoming out and--does modesty permit me to say it?--helping alittle.""Now, you have helped wonderfully, and you must not think I don'tappreciate it.""Ah, how richly I am rewarded!"She looked at him with a laughing and perplexed little frown, butonly said, "No irony, sir."By this time they had joined her father and begun to set out therow of hemlocks. To her surprise, Sue had found herself a littledisappointed that he had not availed himself of his oneopportunity to be at least "a bit friendly" as she phrased it. Itwas mortifying to a girl to be expecting "something awkward tomeet" and nothing of the kind take place. "After all," shethought, "perhaps he came out just for a lark, or, worse still, isamusing himself at my expense; or he may have come on an exploringexpedition and plain old father and mother, and the plain littlefarmhouse, have satisfied him. Well, the dinner wasn't very plain,but he may have been laughing in his sleeve at our lack of stylein serving it. Then this old dress! I probably appear to him aperfect guy." And she began to hate it, and devoted it to the rag-bag the moment she could get it off.This line of thought, once begun, seemed so rational that shewondered it had not occurred to her before. "The idea of my beingso ridiculously on the defensive!" she thought. "No, it wasn'tridiculous either, as far as my action went, for he can never sayI acted as if I wanted him to speak. My conceit in expecting himto speak the moment he got a chance was absurd. He has begun to bevery polite and formal. That's always the way with men when theywant to back out of anything. He came out to look us over, and mein particular; he made himself into a scarecrow just because Ilooked like one, and now will go home and laugh it all over withhis city friends. Oh, why did he come and spoil my day? Even hesaid it was my day, and he has done a mean thing in spoiling it.Well, he may not carry as much self-complacency back to town as hethinks he will. Such a cold-blooded spirit, too!--to come upon usunawares in order to spy out everything, for fear he might gettaken in! You were very attentive and flattering in the city, sir,but now you are disenchanted. Well, so am I."Under the influence of this train of thought she grew more andmore silent. The sun was sinking westward in undimmed splendor,but her face was clouded. The air was sweet, balmy, well adaptedto sentiment and the setting out of trees, but she was growingfrosty."Hiram," she said shortly, "you've got that oak crooked; let mehold it." And thereafter she held the trees for the old coloredman as he filled in the earth around them.Minturn appeared as oblivious as he was keenly observant. At firstthe change in Sue puzzled and discouraged him; then, as his acutemind sought her motives, a rosy light began to dawn upon him. "Imay be wrong," he thought, "but I'll take my chances in acting asif I were right before I go home."At last Hiram said: "Reckon I'll have to feed de critters again;"and he slouched off.Sue nipped at the young trees further and further away from theyoung man who must "play spy before being lover." The spy helpedMr. Banning set out the last tree. Meantime, the complacent farmerhad mused: "The little girl's safe for another while, anyhow.Never saw her more offish; but things looked squally about dinner-time. Then, she's only eighteen; time enough years hence." At lasthe said affably, "I'll go in and hasten supper, for you've earnedit if ever a man did, Mr. Minturn. Then I'll drive you down to theevening train." And he hurried away.Sue's back was toward them, and she did not hear Minturn's stepuntil he was close beside her. "All through," he said; "every treeout. I congratulate you; for rarely in this vale of tears areplans and hopes crowned with better success.""Oh, yes," she hastened to reply; "I am more than satisfied. Ihope that you are too.""I have no reason to complain," he said. "You have stood by yourmorning's bargain, as I have tried to.""It was your own fault, Mr. Minturn, that it was so one-sided. ButI've no doubt you enjoy spicing your city life with a little larkin the country.""It was a one-sided bargain, and I have had the best of it.""Perhaps you have," she admitted. "I think supper will be ready bythe time we are ready for it." And she turned toward the house.Then she added, "You must be weary and anxious to get away.""You were right; my bones do ache. And look at my hands. I knowyou'll say they need washing; but count the blisters.""I also said, Mr. Minturn, that you would know better next time.So you see I was right then and am right now.""Are you perfectly sure?""I see no reason to think otherwise." In turning, she had faced ayoung sugar-maple which he had aided her in planting early in theafternoon. Now she snipped at it nervously with her pruning-shears, for he would not budge, and she felt it scarcely polite toleave him."Well," he resumed, after an instant, "it has a good look, hasn'tit, for a man to fulfil an obligation literally?""Certainly, Mr. Minturn," and there was a tremor in her tone; "butyou have done a hundred-fold more than I expected, and never wereunder any obligations.""Then I am free to begin again?""You are as free now as you have been all day to do what youplease." And her shears were closing on the main stem of themaple. He caught and stayed her hand. "I don't care!" she criedalmost passionately. "Come, let us go in and end this foolishtalk.""But I do care," he replied, taking the shears from her, yetretaining her hand in his strong grasp. "I helped you plant thistree, and whenever you see it, whenever you care for it, when, intime, you sit under its shade or wonder at its autumn hues, I wishyou to remember that I told you of my love beside it. Dear littlegirl, do you think I am such a blind fool that I could spend thislong day with you at your home and not feel sorry that I must evergo away? If I could, my very touch should turn the sap of thismaple into vinegar. To-day I've only tried to show how I can workfor you. I am eager to begin again, and for life."At first Sue had tried to withdraw her hand, but its tensenessrelaxed. As he spoke, she turned her averted face slowly towardhim, and the rays of the setting sun flashed a deeper crimson intoher cheeks. Her honest eyes looked into his and were satisfied.Then she suddenly gathered the young tree against her heart andkissed the stem she had so nearly severed. "This maple is witnessto what you've said," she faltered. "Ah! but it will be a sugar-maple in truth; and if petting will make it live--there, now!behave! The idea! right out on this bare lawn! You must wait tillthe screening evergreens grow before--Oh, you audacious--I haven'tpromised anything.""I promise everything. I'm engaged, and only taking my retaining-fees.""Mother," cried Farmer Banning at the dining-room window, "justlook yonder!""And do you mean to say, John Banning, that you didn't expect it?""Why, Sue was growing more and more offish.""Of course! Don't you remember?""Oh, this unlucky birthday! As if trees could take Sue's place!""Yah!" chuckled Hiram from the barn door, "I knowed dat ar gem'linwas a-diggin' a hole fer hisself on dis farm.""Mr. Minturn--" Sue began as they came toward the house arm inarm."Hal--" he interrupted."Well, then, Mr. Hal, you must promise me one thing in deadearnest. I'm the only chick father and mother have. You must bevery considerate of them, and let me give them as much of my timeas I can. This is all that I stipulate; but this I do.""Sue," he said in mock solemnity, "the prospects are that you'llbe a widow.""Why do you make such an absurd remark?""Because you have struck amidships the commandment with thepromise, and your days will be long in the land. You'll outliveeverybody.""This will be no joke for father and mother."So it would appear. They sat in the parlor as if waiting for theworld to come to an end--as indeed it had, one phase of it, tothem. Their little girl, in a sense, was theirs no longer."Father, mother," said Sue, demurely, "I must break some news toyou.""It's broken already," began Mrs. Banning, putting herhandkerchief to her eyes.Sue's glance renewed her reproaches for the scene on the lawn; butMinturn went promptly forward, and throwing his arm around thematron's plump shoulders, gave his first filial kiss."Come, mother," he said, "Sue has thought of you both; and I'vegiven her a big promise that I won't take any more of her awaythan I can help. And you, sir," wringing the farmer's hand, "willoften see a city tramp here who will be glad to work for hisdinner. These overalls are my witness."Then they became conscious of his absurd figure, and the sceneended in laughter that was near akin to tears.The maple lived, you may rest assured; and Sue's children saidthere never was such sugar as the sap of that tree yielded.All the hemlocks, oaks, and dogwood thrived as if conscious thattheirs had been no ordinary transplanting; while Minturn's half-jesting prophecy concerning the travellers in the valley was amplyfulfilled.
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