CHAPTER XIII.

HEMLOCK VALLEY.

MARION slept late in the morning, and when she waked it was a minute or two before she knew where she was. The house was very still. She could hear birds singing and chickens cackling and crowing as if she were at home, but the room was a very different one from that she had called hers so long in the old McGregor house at Holford. It was much larger and higher, for one thing. There were two windows hung with pretty muslin curtains. The walls were covered with cheerful paper and the floor with fine checked India matting such as Marion had admired on Kitty Tremaine's floor in Holford. The furniture was of solid black walnut, mostly new, but with an old-fashioned bit here and there, such as a large mirror in a gilt frame, over the tall mantel-piece, and a pretty little workstand with brass trimmings. Altogether it was pretty as any room Marion had ever seen, and certainly as different as possible from the lodging which she had imagined herself occupying.

There was no need even of the scrap-bag and mats which she had already begun, for a very pretty bag hung by the side of the dressing-table and the blue and white china on the wash-stand was abundantly supplied with braided mats. Marion felt positively disappointed. She looked at her watch. It was past eight. She hastened to rise and dress herself. She found her dressing-table supplied with a new set of toilet articles, the nicest she had ever possessed.

"Money must be plenty, at any rate," she thought.

She explored the room still further, and discovered a large light closet in which was her trunk, and where she found also a great provision of hooks, shelves and drawers. Certainly she had never in her life been so sumptuously lodged. She dressed herself neatly in one of her new morning dresses, and went down-stairs, all the time more and more surprised at what she saw.

The house was evidently an old one, large and very solidly built. A second staircase led to an upper story. There was a large window in the end of the hall, on each side of which were book-cases filled with books. While Marion was hesitating which way to turn, an outside door opened and a fair, rather stout lady appeared, carrying a little covered dish in one hand and a basket in the other.

"Oh!" said the lady, after a minute's hesitation. "You are Marion, are you not?"

"Yes, ma'am," answered Marion, wondering who the lady could be.

"To be sure," said the stranger, setting down her basket and shaking her hand heartily.

"How do you do, dear?"

"Very well, thank you," answered Marion, wondering more and more.

"But I forget: you don't know who I am, of course," said the stranger smiling. "I am Amity—Amity Overbeck—your sister, you know. I am so glad you have come. Have you had your breakfast? But no, of course you haven't; you have just got up. Come this way, dear; I dare say your breakfast is all ready. Ma!" she called, opening a door and ushering Marion into a pretty sitting-room. "Ma, here's Marion."

"What liberties she takes!" thought Marion. "I wonder mother allows it, but I suppose she can't help it, poor thing."

Mrs. Van Alstine did not seem at all distressed by the liberty. She kissed Amity quite as heartily as she did Marion.

"I have been looking for you all the morning," said she. "Marie dear, you will want your breakfast, and Maggy has it all ready in the dining-room. Come this way; you will soon learn the geography of the house."

"Have you had your breakfast?" asked Marion, as she took her seat at the long, handsomely-appointed dining-table.

"Oh yes, hours ago. Tanners keep early hours you will find; quite as early as you have been used to at home. Amity, will you please speak to Maggy?"

Amity obeyed, setting down the covered dish she carried, which proved to contain some beautiful raspberries. A tempting breakfast was soon set before Marion, of which she was quite ready to partake. She drank her coffee and ate her dainty warm rolls, making her observations on the rooms and furniture while Amity took counsel with her mother over certain patterns and materials for children's wear, now and then including Marion in the conversation by some remark or question addressed to her.

"And where are the boys?" asked Amity. "Making the most of their holiday, I suppose, since school begins again on Monday. I shall not be sorry, for one. Where are they all?"

"Harry and Frank are down at the tannery helping their father. Bram is freezing the ice-cream just at this minute, and the little boys have gone over to the saw-mill on an errand. Do you think Helen will come to-day?"

"Unless something very unexpected happens. She hardly ever fails, you know. You have not seen Mrs. Andrews, Marion. I hope you will like her; everybody does."

"Not everybody exactly," said Mrs. Van Alstine smiling.

"Oh, well, everybody but Gertrude, and even she liked Helen at first. I suppose, by the way, we shall see her before long. Asahel's overseer said last week that she had set three different times already."

"And made Asahel go down to the station to meet her every time, I suppose."

"Gertrude has got home," said Marion. "She came down with me yesterday. The conductor introduced me to her when Mr. Randall left me, and we had quite a talk."

"Oh!" said Amity in rather a significant tone. "Then no doubt she told you all about us?"

"Amity, my dear!" said her mother in a tone of remonstrance.

Amity laughed.

"Never fear, mamma dear, I am as meek as a mouse. Well, there, I must go. Come over and see me, Marion. You will want to look about to-day, I suppose."

"I am afraid Marion will find it rather dull," observed her mother. "She is not used to living in the woods."

"And now what will you do till dinner time?" said her mother when Amity had gone. "I suppose you will like to put your things away. I have had James carry up your other trunk, and you will find plenty of places to bestow your clothes and so on. Shall I come up and sit with you while you are busy? I want to hear all the news from home."

"If you please, mother," said Marion. She was feeling every minute more strange, and, as Aunt Baby would have said, "like a cat in a strange garret." Everything was so utterly different from what she had expected.

"I dare say you will like to see the house," continued her mother; "it is a large one, but with our great family we live all over it. Here is another parlour, you see, but we use it more in winter than summer; and here is my room, which was built for a parlour too, but we do not need it, and I find it very convenient to have a bedroom down-stairs; and this is Aunt Eugenia's room; you must come in and be introduced to Aunt Eugenia; she is Mr. Van Alstine's aunt, and has always lived with him."

Mrs. Van Alstine opened a door, and introduced Marion into a pretty room, where sat an old lady dressed with exquisite neatness, and busily engaged in knitting. She turned her head as they entered, but did not move.

"Is that you, Eiley?" she asked, and then Marion saw that she was blind.

"Yes, aunty, and I have brought my daughter to see you. Go close to her, my dear. She will want to feel your face."

"Yes, my eyes are in the ends of my fingers," said the old lady pleasantly. Then after passing her hands over Marion's face, "She is like you in face; I hope she may be so in other ways. What has become of Hector and Rob?"

"They have gone over to the village for your snuff, aunty."

"They should not have done that," said Aunt Eugenia, though she was evidently much pleased.

"Oh, they had other errands enough; this is Saturday, you know. They will be home by dinner time. Poor old lady! She is lost without her snuff-box," said Mrs. Van Alstine as she closed the door.

"I should think you would try to break her of taking snuff," said Marion; "it is such a disagreeable bad habit."

"It is hardly worth while to try and break people of bad habits at eighty-eight," said Mrs. Van Alstine. "I don't think I shall try to reform Aunt Eugenia's till I have quite finished with my own, and by that time I think she will be done with snuff-boxes."

Marion fancied there was a tone of reproof in her mother's words, and dropped the subject. She was busily engaged all the morning in putting away her goods, and answering her mother's questions about home matters. Marion had no intention of telling any untruths, but she certainly gave her mother clearly to understand that she had never had justice done her at home either by her aunt or Miss Oliver.

"I hope you will like Mrs. Andrews—Cousin Helen, as we all call her," said Mrs. Van Alstine rather anxiously. "Our children and Amity's think her perfection, and the boys certainly get on very well. Harry says Abram and Frank know as much Latin now as he did when he entered college."

"Is Harry in college?" asked Marion, surprised.

"Yes; he entered on the Sophomore year at Princeton, and is now a senior. He is only at home for his vacation, and expects to graduate next commencement if all goes well."

"I am glad the boys are learning Latin, because I shall be able to help them with their lessons," said Marion, remembering her part of the model elder sister. "What do they mean to make of themselves?"

"That is hardly decided yet," said her mother, smiling; "both Bram and Frank have a turn for natural science, and Frank is a good botanist already. They may both study medicine, or perhaps take to some professorship. Hector says he means to be a tanner and help father, and Rob will be whatever Hector is; they seem to have but one mind between them."

"I thought Asahel was in business with father," said Marion.

"He is in a fashion—that is, father owns the tannery which Asahel is running over at the Bottom. He used to be concerned in this one," said Mrs. Van Alstine, with a little sigh; "and when he was married, father built him a very pretty little house. But Gerty was not contented here, and on the whole it was thought better to make another arrangement, so he went over to Rock Bottom, where there is quite a village. I was sorry, for father misses Asahel very much. You know—or I suppose you don't know—that tanning is a business that runs very much in families. You will find that the eldest son of a tanner is almost always a tanner himself, and joins his father in business. But there is the twelve o'clock bell, and I must go down and see that Maggy is ready. She is apt to be a little unpunctual, unless somebody hurries her at the last. The bell will ring when dinner is ready, and then you will see the family all together, except Aunt Eugenia. She likes to dine in her own room."

The bell rang before Marion had finished brushing her hair and washing her hands. She hurried down and found the whole family assembled round the table, and her father already beginning to carve the mountain of roast beef before him. Her mother had reserved a chair at her right hand, and Marion stepped into it, vexed at herself as usual, and wondering what they would think of her being so late.

"Good-morning, my girl," said Mr. Van Alstine, kindly; "I hope you are quite rested. You know all your brothers by this time, I suppose?"

"I don't believe she does," said Frank. "Well, then, this tall fellow at mother's left hand is Harry, the collegian, and I am Frank, at your service."

"Professor of roots and yarbs at the University of the Cannibal Islands," said one of the boys.

"Exactly," returned Frank, in perfect good-humour; "and this is Abraham, whom the unlettered and vulgar call Abe, but his family in deference to his feelings name him Abraham, and sometimes Bram; and there is Hector McGregor, and Robert Campbell, commonly called Rob Roy, for what reason I leave you to guess."

"And now that you have finished your introductions, my son, pass your sister's plate and help her to some potatoes," said his mother. "Rob, get Marion a napkin. I see Maggy has forgotten it."

"Where's Sally?" asked Rob, as he brought the napkin.

"She has gone over to the saw-mill to spend the day with her sister, who is sick."

The dinner proceeded with abundance of talking and laughing among the boys, but nothing that could be called rudeness. The boys were particularly attentive to her mother, especially Harry, who seemed to anticipate her every want. Certainly, there was nothing resembling the bear-garden Marion had pictured to herself. The appointments of the table were far more elegant than anything she had ever been accustomed to, and she was provoked at herself for being embarrassed with her large silver fork and for feeling shy before her stepfather.

She could not but own, as she looked around, that they were a handsome family. Mr. Van Alstine was a man of rather more than middle age, with black curling hair streaked with gray, hazel eyes, with a spark of red fire in them, as so often happens with hazel eyes, and a composed, somewhat commanding, but very pleasant manner. The elder boys were all like him, with black curls and dark eyes, and well-tanned faces; Robert alone had red hair and blue eyes—a real McGregor, Marion thought as she looked at him. He was ten years old, and Harry, the eldest, about twenty.

"Who is going over to the village to meet Cousin Helen?" asked Mr. Van Alstine, when dinner was nearly over. "Now, don't all speak at once."

"I think Bram and the Scotchman had better go to-day," said Harry; "Frank and I went yesterday."

"Why don't Mr. Overbeck go?" asked Mrs. Van Alstine. "I thought he would take Amity over."

"He can't be spared," said her husband; "we must work all the afternoon to get the hides ready by Monday."

"Don't you want Frank and me?" asked Harry.

"Of course I shall be glad of your help, but I don't want you to spend your vacation in the factory, my boy. I dare say you and the doctor want to be off bug-hunting."

"Oh, the bugs can wait."

"I hope you like insects, Marion," said Abraham.

"I don't think I do," answered Marion. "I am rather afraid of them."

"And of snakes? Don't say you are afraid of snakes, now."

"I am very much afraid of them," said Marion. "I hope they don't grow here."

"Grow!" said Abraham, in a tone of commiseration. "Alas for you! They swarm here. And Frank has a passion for them. He brings in choice specimens alive and confines them in his room by dozens, and then they creep out and wander about the house, and disport themselves fiendishly in the halls and on the stairs."

"Don't you believe him, Marion; it was only one poor, unlucky black snake, and I did not bring him in, either. It was the cat, I suppose; or perhaps he crawled in himself, but Bram always lays him to me."

"You'll see," said Bram.

"And you'll see when I get you alone, old fellow," said Frank, threateningly. "Just wait till I catch you down-stairs."

"Yes, I expect my distracted family will find my mangled body in a pit some time, all tanned into leather. It is a fate to which I have always been looking forward."

"Because your guilty conscience tells you, you deserve it. Come, Harry, let's go down and trim hides, and leave him to plunge into the wild dissipations of the town and spend all his pocket-money in peppermint drops. That's the magnet that draws him over to Ivanhoe. It isn't Cousin Helen; it's the candy-shop. Please excuse us, mother."

"Mother must excuse all of us if she pleases; for if the boys are going over for Helen, there is no time to lose. There! Be off, youngsters, and don't run away with the horses nor let them run away with you."

"Follow, follow, clansmen all," sang Abram as he left the room. "Come along, Scotchmen."

"Marion looks bewildered," said Mr. Van Alstine as he stopped a moment after the boys were gone. "She isn't used to the company of such 'a raft of boys,' as poor Gerty calls them."

"She will soon get used to them," said Mrs. Van Alstine. "They are good boys, though I say it that shouldn't."

"Mother means to make the best of it," thought Marion.

The afternoon brought Amity again, with two of her children—a tall girl just coming to the awkward and opinionated age of fourteen and a solemn little boy of five, who betook himself to Aunt Eugenia for a story, while Bessy began to put Marion through a catechism as to her school, her studies, and her accomplishments, ending with,—

"Did you learn music?"

"No," answered Marion. "We had no piano. I believe I am to begin now."

"Oh, you are a great deal too old to begin now, I should say," remarked Bessy. "You know people who want to play well should begin before their hands are formed. I would keep on with drawing if I were you. Cousin Helen draws beautifully."

"And do you play well?" asked Marion, trying to turn the fire of questions on her adversary.

"Tolerably, considering," was the cool reply. "I can't play like Harry or Stannie, of course, but perhaps I shall. Stannie is going abroad some day to finish her musical education—to Stuttgart or some of those places, you know, where the advantages are so superior."

Marion did not know anything about it, but she would not have said so for a good deal. She could not even remember at the moment where Stuttgart was.

"And who is Stannie?" she asked, again.

"Oh, she's Cousin Helen's daughter, Stanley Andrews. There wasn't any boy, you see, and so she was named for her father. She is at school in Round Spring, but she always comes here for her vacation. Oh, you'll like Stannie. I assure you I'm quite jealous, the boys think so much of her."

"Bessy, my dear, don't you think you are talking rather more than your share?" asked her mother, smilingly. Such a hint would have sent Marion into the sulks for the whole evening, but Bessy only laughed, blushed a little, and put her finger on her lip.

"Suppose, Bessy and Marion, you put on your hats and go out for a little walk," said Mrs. Van Alstine. "The sun is low and it is very pleasant."

"Oh yes, come, Marion, and we'll go and meet the carriage," said Bessie.

Marion would have liked to excuse herself, but she did not know how. She put on her hat, and the two walked up the road to the top of the hill.

"Now you can see all the village," said Bessie; "a grand place, isn't it?"

"I don't see much village," said Marion. "What is that long, low building with the tall chimney?"

"Oh, that's the factory—the tannery, you know. Grandpa will want to take you over it some day; he always does."

"It must be a horrid dirty place."

"Not a bit. Oh, the beam-house is pretty dirty, of course, and it isn't exactly fragrant, you know. But tanning is very healthy work, after all, and particularly good for consumption, they say. The rest is all clean enough. And that largest house is our house, and the other, with green blinds, is Mr. Breck's, the foreman, and the others are where the hands live. And that great barn over the creek is the mule-barn, and that one across the road is the horse-barn, and there is the store and the blacksmith's and the shoemaker's, and that's all, I believe."

"You have left out the nicest of all," said Marion—"that pretty white building with the green blinds and the little bell. What is that?"

"That? Oh yes, that is our little chapel," said Bessie, with a change of tone. "Isn't it pretty? But we mean to have a nicer one some day, and in a better situation, too. Van Alstine & Overbeck mean to build a nice little stone church up on the hill by our house."

"A chapel! And do you have a minister?" asked Marion.

"Yes, every other Sunday; and when he isn't here, grandfather or father conducts the services. Sometimes Harry does when he is at home. You'll see to-morrow."

"And do you have a Sunday school?"

"Of course," answered Bessy, in a surprised tone. "Don't you? I thought everybody had Sunday schools."

"Everybody don't, by a great deal," said Marion, a good deal offended. "We do, of course, but I didn't expect to find one out here in the woods."

"Oh, we are not owls, though we do live in the woods," said Bessy, laughing, in perfect good-nature. "I suppose you thought you were coming among a set of savages, didn't you? See, there comes the carriage and Cousin Helen, but not Stannie. Now, that is too bad. I suppose her grandmother has kept her again."

Bram, who was driving, pulled up and invited the girls to get into the carriage.

Marion was not sorry to accept the invitation, for she still felt tired with her journey, and she was very curious to see the cousin Helen of whom she had heard so much. Mrs. Andrews was a very pretty woman, dressed, as Gerty had described her, in deep widow's mourning, but by no means woebegone or doleful in her expression; on the contrary, she was very bright and cheerful, and as Marion could not but allow very attractive in manner and expression.

"Oh, Cousin Helen, where is Stannie?" exclaimed Bessy.

"Stannie is in Hobartstown with her grandmother, and will be here next week, as I have already stated as many as seven times," replied Mrs. Andrews. "I think I shall delegate Bram to answer the question henceforth, for I am tired of it. How many feet have you grown since I went away, Betsy?"

"Betsy's mother puts a flatiron on her head for three hours every day," said Bram.

"Now, Bram, don't," said Bessy, pathetically; "what will Marion think of us?"

And so, amid much laughter and good-natured "chaff," the ride was concluded.

Marion went to bed at night with her head in a whirl and her ideas thoroughly disorganized.

"Who would have thought everything would have turned out so different?" she said to herself as she got ready for bed. She could not help feeling a little provoked. Not only did they have family prayers every morning and evening, but they had actually a church and Sunday school.

"Of course; don't you?" that impertinent little Bessy had said.

What had become of her fine castle in the air about influencing her father to get up a Sunday school which was to be held in a barn or shed till she could still further influence him to build a small log school-house? Here was a Sunday school already organized, and nobody had even asked her to take a class.

On the contrary, Bessy had said carelessly, "I suppose you will be in Cousin Helen's Bible class, Marion."

She began to feel a positive dislike to Bessy. Why did not Mrs. Overbeck teach her children to call her, Marion, by the proper title of aunt? She decided to assert herself on this point, as soon as possible. She had come to Hemlock Valley determined to be very gracious, considerate, and condescending, and she could not make up her mind to yield her position without an effort; and thinking over various plans for asserting her dignity, she fell asleep.