CHAPTER XV.

MRS. GERTRUDE.

GERTRUDE had not been at the valley for a visit since Marion's arrival, notwithstanding her professed intention to visit her immediately. There had been talk of an expedition to Rock Bottom, but it had never come to anything.

Marion had taken a fancy to Gerty on the only occasion of their meeting, and was very glad to see her again. She went into the house to announce the arrival.

The three elder ladies were sitting together in council over some clothes for an unprovided twin among the factory-hands, and Stanley and Bessy were practicing a tremendously classical and scientific duet on the piano, Bessy having arrived at the particular stage of her musical education when she looked upon tunes with great contempt.

"Gerty is coming, mother," said Marion. "I saw the carriage coming over the hill."

The three ladies looked at each other, and Marion thought there was a little dismay in their glances.

"What does she want this time?" said irrepressible Bessy.

"To see her friends, no doubt," replied her mother, with a look which Bessy well understood as a hint that she was to say no more. It was curious to see how entirely the sharp, bright, and somewhat forward girl was "held in hand" by her good-humoured, gentle mother.

"Can I help you, mother?" said Amity, turning to Mrs. Van Alstine.

"No, thank you. I believe everything is in order in the north room. You might just step up and see if you don't mind, Stannie."

It struck Marion that Gertrude's arrival produced more commotion than was to be expected from an event apparently so simple in its character. Her mother was actually nervous, Stanley looked discomposed and uneasy, and even placid Amity was evidently somewhat disturbed. The whole party came to the door to receive the visitor, who now drove up.

"You are a great stranger," said Mrs. Van Alstine when the first greetings were past.

"Yes, I am very much confined," answered Gerty, with an air of fatigued resignation. "We have so much company. There is hardly a day that somebody does not come to dinner. That is the beauty of being a tanner's wife. But I suppose there is no help for it now. I think you are not looking very well, either, mother. I'm sure you ought not to be overburdened, with so many to help you. I see Stanley is here for her vacation, as usual."

"Certainly," answered Mrs. Van Alstine, promptly; "where should she spend it but with her mother? I am sure she is a great comfort."

"Oh, of course! I am glad you should have her, I am sure. Some people might think it rather—However, of course, it is no concern of mine. She is very pretty, certainly."

"Won't you go up-stairs and take your things off?" said Mrs. Van Alstine. "You mean to stay now you have come, do you not? Where is Asahel?"

"Oh, he went on down to the factory to see father about some business. I think I will go up-stairs and rest a little. It is a very tiresome ride, all up and down hill so. What a pretty black silk that is, Amity! Your old one made over, I suppose?"

"No; this is a new one my husband gave me this summer."

"What, another new dress!" said Gerty, in a tone of surprise. "Well, if I ever!"

Amity smiled, but made no reply. Bessy looked indignant; and when Gerty disappeared, her indignation burst forth:

"Well, I do say—"

"Hush, Bessy!" said her mother.

"As if it was any of her business!"

"Bessy, my dear!"

"And about Stanley, too!"

"Bessy, my love! You had better finish your lesson."

"Well, I will, mamma dear. And I won't say it out if it chokes me. Come, Stannie, let's finish our duet, and then she'll say, 'Is that piano always going'?"

"What's the matter?" asked Stanley, who had just come back.

"Never mind; it's only Gerty. Come, I must go at something to ease my mind."

Asahel came up to tea with his father, and Mrs. Gerty came down refreshed with her nap, looking as pretty as possible and very good-natured and agreeable. Marion thought Asahel had a worn, harassed look, and her father's black brows were rather nearer together than common, but he was, as usual, kind and pleasant to every one.

"Henry has gone back to college, I suppose?" said Gertrude.

"Not yet," answered Mr. Van Alstine. "It is his Senior year, you know, and he has some privileges accordingly. He and the boys have gone over to Pocono after some wonderful vegetable or other that Frank has got word of, and won't be home till to-morrow."

"Really! He makes the most of his holidays. And what is he going to do with himself after he leaves college?"

"He means to study for the ministry, I believe."

"What, Henry! Well, I declare! I should never have thought of that. Do you hear, Asahel? Henry is going to be a minister."

"Well, why not?" said Asahel. "I think he will make a very good one. He was always a sober old fellow."

"Well, I must say I am surprised. I met one of Henry's college friends up at B—, and from what he told me, I should have thought the ministry was about the last thing. However, I suppose all boys must sow their wild oats, whether they are to be ministers or not. I am sorry he is away. I have hardly seen him."

"He has been over at the Bottom several times, but I think you were away every time," said Mrs. Van Alstine. "How did you find your cousins?"

Mrs. Gertrude was diverted from family matters for the time to enlarge upon her city visit and relations. She had had a very nice time, it appeared, and had been a person of great consequence.

After supper she joined Marion and Stanley, who were standing on the verandah watching the sunset.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

"Listening to the owls," answered Stanley. "'The moping owl does to the moon complain.' The owl is one of our principal singing-birds in Hemlock Valley."

"Doleful, dismal, stupid old hole!" said Gerty. "Don't you think so?"

"Not I, indeed," said Stanley; "I love it dearly, owls and all."

"Of course you do," said Gerty, laughing significantly; "no need to tell us that, Miss Stanley. I was asking Marion, who has not quite the same reasons for liking it that you have."

"I like it very well," said Marion. "I think the valley is beautiful; and I am sure I have as many reasons for liking it as Stanley, if it comes to that. I have as many friends as she has."

Marion spoke with some little warmth. However hardly she might think of her own family, she did not like to have any one else speak ill of them.

"Oh, of course, only not quite. But how any one can like such a hole in the woods as this! You don't have any society."

"Oh yes, we have plenty of company; besides that, we make up a tolerably sized society of our own," said Stanley, as if determined not to be vexed.

"Stanley, my dear, have you a shawl on?" called her mother from within.

"I am coming in, mother," answered Stanley. "Will you come, Marie?"

"Marie and I are going to take a little walk together," said Gerty. "I wish you would bring me a hood or something, Stanley."

Stanley brought the hood, and Marion and Gerty walked down toward the gate.

"Well, and how do you get on?" asked Gertrude.

"Very well," said Marion; but she could not repress a little sigh, which Gerty's quick ear caught directly.

"Stanley makes a long stay, doesn't she?" said Gerty. "I don't know which I wonder at most, her mother's blindness or father's."

"Blindness?" repeated Marion. "What do you mean?"

"Why, can't you see, you little innocent, that she is setting her cap for Harry? I am very much mistaken if they do not understand each other already."

"Well, what if they do? I am sure Stanley would make an excellent minister's wife," said Marion, whose better nature could not help liking Stanley, despite her occasional fits of jealousy.

"Yes, but think what a disadvantage to him to be entangled so young in an engagement to a girl without a cent in the world! I don't believe that her mother will allow that, however. I fancy she has higher views for Stanley than making her a minister's wife. I hear she means to take her abroad."

Marion did not know what to say. To her unsophisticated New England mind, marrying a minister seemed anything but a poor prospect—marrying Harry especially.

"However, it is none of my business, I suppose," continued Gertrude; "I washed my hands of the whole concern long ago. But that was not what I was going to say when I brought you out here by ourselves. Marion, I want you to come and make me a good long visit. It would be a real mercy to me, I know, and I will try to make it pleasant for you. I am so much alone, and with my delicate health it is very depressing. The Bottom is a pretty little place, and we have some very good society there. I am sure you would enjoy yourself."

"I should, I dare say; but there are my lessons, you know," said Marion, doubtfully.

"Oh, your lessons won't suffer; you can bring your books along and I can help you with them, and I have a piano. I suppose you have begun music?"

"No; Cousin Helen advised me not," said Marion. "She said it was late for me to begin, and I would do better to keep on with my drawing, because I had a real talent and had a good start. I am getting on nicely with that, she says."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Gerty, significantly. "I should not suppose she was the one to decide about that. I think every young lady should know something of music, as there is no knowing when she may be called upon to play. However, I know how Mrs. Andrews gets everything under her thumb."

"I have learned a little music," said Marion. "I knew the notes a long time ago, and Lizzy Gates showed me the piano keys and some tunes when I was at home, and Stanley has taught me two or three very pretty pieces since she came. But I am sure I should never play like Stanley, or even Bessy, if I was to practice for ever; and I like drawing a great deal better, after all. Cousin Helen paints beautifully in water-colours."

"Oh, well, no doubt you do well to make the best of it, but I should hardly—However, I never even hint a word of advice about family affairs nowadays. But I really wish you could come and stay with me a few weeks or months. You could do so much to make the house cheerful and you must see that it is very hard for me to be alone all day long, with nobody to speak to but the servant. Come, I know you will. And you might do so much good in our Sunday School. But I suppose you have a class here, of course?"

"No, I am in Cousin Helen's Bible class," said Marion, who was rather sensitive on this point.

"Indeed! Well, I am surprised. However of course, Mrs. Andrews manages that as she does everything else—her own way. I suppose she will want to run the tannery next."

"Have you a Sunday school at Rock Bottom?" asked Marion.

"Oh yes, and a very nice church and minister—at least every one thinks him very nice. I confess his preaching does not come up to my ideas. I like a sermon to be an intellectual feast. Oh how I did enjoy my Sundays in B—! It did seem a little hard to come back and be buried in such a place as Rock Bottom again. I do wish Asahel would move over to Coaltown and engage in some business there. But come, now, say that you will go home with us when we go. I am sure you will like it."

And Marion at last said she would go if mother was willing.

"Oh, mother will be willing if I want you. I always get my way somehow or other," said Gerty. "I have a great deal of will-power. I don't believe in giving up, and I almost invariably carry out my schemes."

"But somebody must give up," said Marion. "All the people in the world can't have their own way. For instance, if you have a plan, and I have another, exactly opposed to it, one of us must give way."

"There comes a leaf out of Mrs. Andrews's book," said Gerty, laughing. "I see she is getting you under her thumb as she does every one else—everybody but me, that is. I did have to give up that time," said Gerty, with a sigh. "I own I am no match for a woman like her. I could not live in the same place with her; and as they were all with her and against me, I gave way for the sake of peace. But about your going with me. I'll tell you what I will do. I have a very nice piano and play very well, though I say it. Indeed, I was called the best pianist in my class at Eaton College, though, thanks to favouritism, I wasn't allowed to play at the class concert. I'll give you lessons on the piano, and you will show Mrs. Andrews that she does not know everything."

"Girls, what are you doing out in this dew?" said Mr. Van Alstine, coming in at the gate. "It is enough to wet you through and through, and give you both rheumatism."

"And to take all the stiffness out of my new piqué," exclaimed Gerty, in alarm. "And I dare say I have soiled the bottom on this horrid tanbark walk. Now, if that is not too bad!"

"You should have had more wit," said Mr. Van Alstine. "Come, never mind; it's only calico, isn't it?"

"Calico, indeed! My beautiful new piqué that I gave a dollar a yard for at Stewart's! I might have known better. Come, Marion, let's go in."

"Do you really want to go home with Gerty, Marion, or is it only one of her fancies?" said her mother the next day.

"I told her I would go if you were willing to have me," answered Marion. "She seems to be very lonely and to want me for company, and perhaps I can be of some use to her."

"I dare say you can. Most people can be of use if they are willing to be taught the right way," said her mother, somewhat dryly. "I dare say you will find such a visit pleasant for a little while. The Bottom is a pretty place, and I should like to have you know the minister. He was a friend of mine when I needed a friend very much, and it was by his means that I came to the valley in the first place. He has a very nice family of daughters."

"Gerty does not seem to like him very much," said Marion.

"So I hear. She says some of the young people think he is growing too old, and want a young minister."

"Well, I must say I think that is a queer taste," said Marion. "I don't understand it a bit. I do think an old minister is so very much nicer than a young one."

"I quite agree with you, my dear; but you know all the ministers had to be young once."

"Then I think the young ones ought to be set to help the old ones till they learn how. They are always so conceited; don't you think so?"

"Well, not always," said her mother, turning to the window and scrutinizing very closely a small hole in a damask towel. "As to this visit, my dear, I will speak to father about it. I think perhaps you ought to go for a little while. Aunt Eugenia will miss your reading, but we must try to make it up for her."

"I did not suppose Aunt Eugenia would ever want to see me again," said Marion.

"Why? On account of the snuff? Oh, that was only an error in judgment—a little bit of zeal without knowledge, such as the young ministers you dislike are apt to fall into. Auntie enjoys your reading aloud very much. She says you read more distinctly than any of us."

The boys came home in the evening delighted with their expedition and loaded with booty.

"What in the world have you got there?" asked Gerty.

"Roots and herbs, stocks and stones," answered Frank, gayly. "Just think, Marie! Three new specimens for the woodpile, besides famous ones in place of those that poor Maggy cremated."

"How glad I am!" said Marion; and she really was.

"And that basket is full of beautiful red berries and ground-pine," said Bram.

"And such leaves for your painting, Cousin Helen and Marie."

"And a box full of monotropas; so Marie can paint one from the life if she chooses."

"And Frank has a rattlesnake, a yard long and more, with thirteen rattles."

"Fourteen, if you please, and a button. Don't that make him fifteen years old, father?"

"So they say, my boy. Is this interesting pet of yours alive?"

"Not he," said Henry; "I took care of that. I like natural history well enough, but I don't care to have it walking around loose, especially with poison-fangs in its jaws. And, father, the barkers have finished up in the Jones tract and will be down to-night. And Abner Jones wants to burn his logging-piece, and he says he thinks the rest of the neighbours would agree if you would, but I told him I was pretty sure you would not as things were now."

"Quite right, my son. I don't want any burnings till that bark is hauled. Did you hear how Clarke's folks were?"

"The woman is better, but Abner Jones's wife says the poor girl will die."

"And a good thing it will be if she does," said Gerty.

"I thought perhaps we might send some one up to help them a little," continued Harry, without noticing the interruption.

"Miranda Pratt told me yesterday that she would go, but I don't suppose they can very well afford even to keep her," she added, looking at her husband.

"I'll see to that," said Mr. Van Alstine. "Clarke is one of the best hands we have."

"Well, really, father, I should think that was going a good way," said Gerty. "Do you pay nurses for all your hands?"

"When all my hands need nurses, it will be time to settle that question," replied Mr. Van Alstine, coolly. "Harry, I think James had better put Old Gray in the little wagon and take Miranda right over. Mother, can't you and Amity cook up something to send them?"

"I'm glad you feel so rich, I'm sure," remarked Gerty. "I thought the tannery was hardly paying expenses, from all I was told."

"The tannery will pay some expenses better than others, my girl," said Mr. Van Alstine, in the deep voice which always showed that his patience was waxing threadbare.

"Which means that it will pay any expenses better than mine," returned Gerty. "Oh, I am not going to say anything, Asahel. I hope I have learned to know my place by this time. I'm sure I am sorry, father, if I have said anything wrong."

"Fiddle-de-dee!" said Mr. Van Alstine. "Boys, don't you think you had better pick up some of your scientific trash and get it out of your mother's way?"

"And get washed and dressed in time for supper?" added their mother. "You all look a little too much like wild men of the woods, to sit down to a civilized table."

"What do you think of this plan of Marion's going to stay with Gerty?" asked Mrs. Van Alstine of her husband that night when they were alone.

"I think it is a very good one," said Mr. Van Alstine. "Marion's great trouble seems to me to be that she doesn't know when she is well off, and I think she will find out if she stays with Gerty a month or two."

"I didn't think of letting her stay so long as that," said Eiley.

"My advice to you is to let her stay till she gets tired of it, or till Gerty is tired of her," replied her husband. "Maybe she will find out then what it means to have a good home."

"But her lessons?"

"There are more lessons than those to be learned out of books, my dear. I am not at all sorry that matters have taken this turn."

"I am disappointed in Marion, I must confess," said Mrs. Van Alstine, with a sigh. "I thought Barbara's teaching would turn out quite a different sort of a girl. Barbara is the most self-sacrificing person I ever saw."

"Exactly; and she has taken every stick and stone out of Marion's way, and let the girl walk over her in every direction. That is one explanation, I suspect. But Gerty won't do that, you know very well."

"Gerty is peculiar," said Eiley, with another little sigh.

"Peculiar! Yes, I should think so," said Mr. Van Alstine. "I wish she had been married ten times before Asahel ever saw her. Do you know what scheme she has in her head now?"

"Not I. I saw there was something in the wind, but she hasn't said anything to me."

"Well, she wants me to sell out the tannery at the Bottom and give Asahel the money to invest in iron works in Coaltown."

"Iron works! What in the world does she think he would do with iron works? He knows nothing about them."

"No, but her kinsman over there, Mr. Jackson, is engaged in a furnace, and wants Asahel to go in with him."

"I hope you won't consent?" said Mrs. Van Alstine, rather anxiously.

"You may believe I didn't; I have seen too much of that sort of thing. I said no straight up and down, and I believe Asahel was glad of it."

"But what put it in their heads?"

"Oh, the reason is plain enough. Gerty complains that she is buried in Rock Bottom, and she wants to go to Coaltown and make as much figure as Mrs. Jackson. Well, there! I won't let it make a fool of me. The Lord has borne with me all these years, and it's a pity if I can't bear with her."

"And about Marie?"

"Let her go, by all means, only make her understand that this is always her home and she will be welcome here. And, by the way, what do you think about Harry and Stannie now?"

"I think it is turning out as we hoped it would," answered Mrs. Van Alstine; "but don't you hint by word or look as if you saw anything, or you may spoil it all."

"Of course not," said her husband, who, it appears, saw farther than Gerty had given him credit for.