As Quincy handed Rosa from the carriage, his observant eye noticed that the hand placed in his was small and well-gloved, while the equally small feet were encased in a pair of dainty boots. "She is true to her French origin," he soliloquized, as they entered the station,--"well-booted, well-gloved. I am glad she is a lady."

The train was soon on its way to Eastborough. It was an accommodation, and Quincy had plenty of time to point out the objects of interest on the way. Rosa was not a lover of the country. She acknowledged this to Quincy, saying that she was born and educated in the country, but that she preferred paved streets and brick sidewalks to green lanes and dusty roads.

Alice had not waited for Quincy's return to broach the matter of the gift of the Putnam house to Ezekiel and Huldy. She had simply asked Quincy, so as to a.s.sure herself that there was no legal objection or reason why she should not make the transfer.

After breakfast the next morning she told her uncle that she wished to have a talk with him in the parlor, and when they were alone together, she stated her intentions to him, as she had to Quincy. The old gentleman approved of her plan, only suggesting that it should be a swap; that is, that Ezekiel should deed the house in which they were, in which, in fact, she owned a half-interest, to her, so she would be sure of a home in case she lost part of her money, or all of it, or wished to live in the country.

Most opportunely, Ezekiel and Huldy came over that morning to make a call, and the matter was soon under discussion in family conclave.

Ezekiel at first objected strenuously to the gift. He would buy the house, he said, and pay so much a year on it, but both Alice and Uncle Ike protested that it was foolish for a young couple to start in life with such a heavy debt hanging over them.

The only circ.u.mstance that led him to change his mind and agree to accept the Putnam homestead as a gift was Uncle Ike's suggestion that he deed the Pettengill homestead to Alice, and pay her all he received for the sale of products from the present Pettengill farm; but 'Zekiel would not accept any loan. He said Deacon Mason had given his daughter five thousand dollars outright, and that would be all the cash they would need to stock and carry on both the farms.

Then 'Zekiel said he might as well settle on who was to live in the two houses. He knew that Cobb's twins would like to stay with him, and he would take them up to the Putnam house with him. Mrs. Pinkham had been hired by the executors to remain with Samanthy until some one came to live in the house. Ezekiel said Samanthy was a good girl, and he and Huldy both liked her, and he felt pretty sure she'd be willing to live with them, because she was used to the house, and as it was the only one she'd ever lived in, it would seem like going away from home if she left there and went somewhere else.

Then 'Zekiel was of the opinion that Abbott Smith and Billy Ricker had better board with Hiram and Mandy, because the grocery teams and horses would have to be kept in the Pettengill barn, as there was no stable to the grocery store. "'Twon't be stealin' anythin' from Mrs. Hawkins if they don't board with her, cuz none of 'em ever lived with her afore."

"Don't you think, 'Zekiel," asked Huldy, "that Uncle Ike ought to come down stairs and have a better room? It will be awful hot up there in the summer. Alice and I used to play up there, and in July and August it was hot enough to roast eggs, wasn't it, Alice?"

Alice, thus appealed to, said it might have been hot enough, but she was positive that they never did roast any up there, although she remembered setting the attic floor on fire one day with a burning gla.s.s. 'Zekiel remembered that, too, and how they had to put new ceilings on two rooms, because he used so much water to put the fire out.

When Uncle Ike got a chance to speak, he said to Huldy, "Thank you, my dear Mrs. Pettengill," with a strong accent on the Mrs., which made Huldy blush a rosy red, "but I wouldn't swap my old attic for all the rest of the rooms in the house. My old blood requires warmth, and I can stand ninety-six without asking for a fan. When I come up to see you, you can put me in one of your big square rooms, but I sha'n't stay long, because I don't like them."

The noise of wheels was heard, and Huldy ran to the window to look out.

"Oh, it's Mr. Sawyer," said she; "and he's got a young lady with him, and she's got a trunk. I wonder who she is? Do you know, Alice?"

"I don't know who she is," replied Alice; "but I can imagine what she's here for."

"Is it a secret?" asked Huldy.

"No, not exactly a secret," replied Alice. "It's a business matter. I have a great many things to be read over to me, and considerable writing to do, and as Mr. Sawyer is going away, I was obliged to have some one to help me."

"Well!" said Huldy, "you'll miss Mr. Sawyer when he goes away; I did.

Now you mustn't get jealous, Mr. Pettengill," she said to 'Zekiel; "you know Mr. Sawyer and I were never in love with each other. That was all village gossip, started by, you know who, and as for Mr. Sawyer liking Lindy Putnam, or she liking him, I know better. She's never got over the loss of her brother Jones, who, it seems, wasn't her real brother, after all; and Samanthy Green told me the other day that Lindy wanted to marry him."

"I think matters are getting rather too personal for me," said Uncle Ike, rising. "I may get drawn into it if I stay any longer. I always liked Lindy Putnam myself." And the old gentleman laughed heartily as he left the room.

"Well, I guess you and me'd better be goin', if we want to be home at dinner time," said 'Zekiel to Huldy. Then, going to his sister, he took her in his arms and kissed her on the cheek. "You know, Alice," said he, "that I ain't much of a talker, but I shall never forget how good you've been to me and Huldy, and if the old house burns down or you get lonesome, you'll always find the latchstring out up to the new house, an' there'll be a room, an' board, an' good care for you as long as you want to stay. Eh, Huldy?" said 'Zekiel, turning to his wife.

"You know, 'Zekiel," replied the impulsive Huldy, "I've said a dozen times that I wished Alice would come and live with us. Won't you, Alice?" she added. "I never had a sister, and I think it would be delightful to have one all to myself, especially," she added archly, "when I have her brother, too."

"I could never live in that house," said Alice, with a slight shudder; "besides, I think my future path in life is being marked out for me by the hand of Fate, which I am powerless to resist. I am afraid that it will take me away from you, my dear ones; but if it does, I shall always love you both, and pray for your happiness and success."

At the front door 'Zekiel and Huldy met Quincy. The latter had turned Miss Very over to the care of Mrs. Maxwell, and had got one of the twins to carry the young lady's trunk to her room, which was the one formerly occupied by Mandy. He had then driven the carryall around to the barn and was returning, anxious to bear his tidings of success to Alice, when he met the departing couple.

"I hear you are going to leave us," said Huldy.

"Who told you?" inquired Quincy.

"Alice," replied Huldy; "and I told her she'd miss you very much when you were gone."

"I am afraid," replied Quincy, "that any service that I have rendered Miss Pettengill has not been of so important a nature that it would be greatly missed. I am glad that I have succeeded in securing her a companion and a.s.sistant of her own s.e.x, which will much more than compensate for the loss of my feeble services."

"That's what I don't like about city folks," said Huldy Pettengill, as she walked along the path, hanging on her husband's arm.

"What's that?" asked 'Zekiel bluntly.

"Because," continued Huldy, "they use such big words to cover up their real feelings. Of course, he wouldn't let on to us, but any one with half an eye could see that he's head over heels in love with your sister Alice, and he'd stand on his head if she told him to."

"Well, Alice is too sensible a girl to ask him to do that sort of thing," said 'Zekiel frankly. "Any way, I don't believe she's in love with him."

"'Twould be a great match for her," said Huldy.

"I don't know 'bout that. On general principles, I don't believe in country girls marryin' city fellers."

"I know you don't," said Huldy, and she gave his arm a little squeeze.

"But," continued 'Zekiel, "Alice is different from most country girls.

Besides, she's lived in the city and knows city ways. Anyway, I sha'n't interfere; I know Mr. Sawyer is a respectable young man, and, by George!

when he wants to do anything, don't he jest put it through. The way he sarc.u.mvented that Strout was as good as a circus."

"I think I sarc.u.mvented that Strout, too," said Huldy, as they reached the corner of Deacon Mason's front fence.

"You've been quite a little flirt in your day," remarked 'Zekiel, "but it's all over now;" and he squeezed the little hand that stole confidingly into his big, brawny one.

Quincy at once entered the parlor and found Alice seated in her accustomed easy-chair.

"You have returned, Sir Knight," was the remark with which Alice greeted him.

"I have, fair lady," replied Quincy, in the same vein; "I have captured one of the enemy and brought her as a prisoner to your castle. Here are some doc.u.ments," he continued, as he placed the proofs in Alice's hands, "that contain valuable secrets, and they will, no doubt, furnish strong evidence against the prisoner."

"What is it?" asked Alice, holding up the package.

"They are the proofs of three of your stories," replied Quincy, relapsing into commonplace; "and Leopold says they must be read and corrected at once. If we can attend to this during the afternoon and evening, I will go up to Boston again to-morrow morning." Quincy then told Alice about Rosa and the terms that he had made with her, and Alice expressed herself as greatly pleased with the arrangement. "You will find Miss Very a perfect lady," said Quincy, "with a low, melodious voice that will not jar upon your ears, as mine, no doubt, has often done."

"You are unfair to yourself, when you say that," remarked Alice earnestly. "Your voice has never jarred upon my ears, and I have always been pleased to listen to you."

Whether Quincy's voice would have grown softer and sweeter and his words more impa.s.sioned if the interview had continued, cannot be divined, for Mrs. Maxwell at that moment opened the parlor door and called out, "Dinner's ready," just as Mandy Skinner used to do in the days gone by.

Miss Very was introduced to Alice and the others at the dinner table, and took the seat formerly occupied by 'Zekiel. Quincy consented to remain to dinner, as he knew his services would be required in the proof reading. When Cobb's twins reached the barn, after dinner, Jim said to Bill, "Isn't she a stunner! I couldn't keep my eyes off'n her."

"Neither could I," rejoined Bill. "I tell yer, Jim, style comes nat'ral to city folks. I'll be durned if I know whether I had chicken or codfish for dinner."

After the noonday meal the three zealous toilers in the paths of literature began work. Quincy read from the ma.n.u.script, Rosa held the proofs, while Alice listened intently, and from time to time made changes in punctuation or slight alterations in the language. No sentence had to be rewritten, and when the reading of the story, Was It Signed? was finished, Rosa said, "A remarkably clean set of proofs; only a few changes, and those slight ones. In the case of very few authors are their original ideas and second thoughts so harmonious. How do you manage it, Miss Pettengill?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Alice, with a smile, "unless it is that I keep my original ideas in my mind until they reach the stage of second thoughts, and then I have them written down."