CHAPTER XXII
MISS BIGGAR
But in spite of its beauty and spaciousness, this seemed rather a lonely house, Bluebell thought, when she was ready for tea, and had nothing to do but gauge her surroundings. Aunt Melissa floated about, showing fatigue in every motion, but anxious to examine into the state of her house. Doctor Garde’s little girl wished for Rocco, or that Tildy would walk in, poking her toes into the pile of the carpets. Wouldn’t Tildy be s’prised! About this time, she and Teeny were sitting on the front steps. And the wind from around the hill was rustling through the elders--dear elders! Rose and Pidey were standing to be milked. There was moonlight all over the Rocky Fork--but not like this lonesome-looking moonlight sifting through Aunt Melissa’s trees. Maybe that big white seminary wasn’t half as nice as the log school-house when you came to find out. And what master could be kinder or know any more than Mr. Pitzer? O Rocky Fork, how this little heart ached for you! Maybe father would get hurt again. Oh, this pain of homesickness for what you love! If she could just hug the baby one blessed minute, or feel Liza’s fostering hand tying up the ends of her auburn braids!
“Why, my dear!” exclaimed Miss Melissa moving back from a closet, “what can be the matter? Is it possible I hear you crying?”
She stooped and put her hand under Bluebell’s chin. The child smeared her face vigorously with her palms.
“I guess it’s only some water runnin’ out of my eyes,” she said with heroism and a hiccup.
Miss Melissa seated herself on a sofa and drew her charge’s head to her thin shoulder.
“You feel lonely. But plenty of nice little girls will come to call on you; and think! your father and little Roxana will be here soon.”
“Yes’m,” struggled Bluebell, smothering down her sobs. This was no way to show Irish pluck.
Miss Melissa trembled slightly.
“This place seems strange to you. But your mother used to play all over this house. She sat in this very room and sewed and talked with me many an afternoon.”
Bluebell looked about, feeling less repelled. Her mother’s presence had touched this and that, and in some sense still lingered there for her.
“I am growing to be an elderly lady, and all my relatives are distant or dead. The warmest friendship of my life was formed for your mother, and I could not help wanting to bring her children into my house, that I might do all I can for them.”
“Yes’m,” responded Bluebell, having conquered her sobs and shut them below her throat with a large lump laid on their heads.
“And I did hope you might be happy, that maybe you would want to make your old auntie happy--”
“Oh, Aunt Melissa, you ain’t old!”
“Old enough to feel very lonely.”
This touched Bluebell, in her present mood, more deeply than anything said before. She put one arm around Aunt Melissa’s narrow waist; the lady patted her.
“There, now, well try to be cheerful. I presume you are hungry and tired, and the tea-bell has been ringing while we were talking. When you have something to eat and are rested you will feel a great deal better. Run and bathe your face, and then we will go into the dining-room.”
In the dining-room a real fairy feast was set forth. As for the silver and china, Bluebell had never imagined its like. The table was round and cosy, and though she sat opposite Aunt Melissa, they seemed quite near together. The neatest and plumpest of women came in to wait on them. This was Maria, who had been with Miss Calder a dozen years. Maria looked pleased and rosy as she exchanged greetings with the lady of the house.
“I hope you found everything right when you came in, ma’am. I had some cake in that I daren’t leave a minute.”
“Everything seems in excellent order, Maria. Were there any letters?”
“A good many papers. I put them on the libr’y table.”
“That was right.”
Maria went out, and Bluebell went on carefully with her supper. Eating and drinking were made beautiful. It was a joy to sip her milk--with a little hot tea poured into it as a tonic for her spirits, which Miss Calder approved of--from a cup so transparent that it seemed too strong a breath must blow it away; to watch the tall, shining urn and chased tray, and even the carved wooden clock on the wall, from which, while Bluebell watched it, there suddenly dipped out a little bird, calling, “Cuckoo!” eight distinct times.
Before his last note quite ceased, a sharp pat of slipper-heels came flying through the hall, and a small person appeared at the dining-room door.
“Oh, that’s you, is it, Libbie? I was just hoping you would come in.”
“When did you get home?” cried Libbie in a clear, high voice.
“About a half-hour ago. Is your grandmamma well?”
“She is very well, I thank you.”
Libbie was taking an inventory of the little girl opposite Miss Calder.
“Melissa,” said Miss Calder, in the formal manner which she considered it requisite to use even towards children, “let me present Miss Libbie Biggar. Miss Libbie, my namesake, Melissa Garde.”
Miss Libbie stepped back, placing the toe of her right foot across the heel of her left, and made a graceful bow. She did it evidently without thought. Her manner was perfectly easy. Bluebell struggled to get up, and dropped a poor little half-curtsy.
“I hope you are well,” said Miss Biggar.
Bluebell replied that she was _tolerably_ well. This young lady, no older than herself, confused and humbled her. She admired Miss Libbie’s air and composure, her low-necked and short-sleeved white dress, her small slippers, the ribbon around her waist, and the tiny ring on her hand. But her head--it was the most wonderful head Bluebell had ever seen. Its heavy dark hair was shingled close, “like a boy’s, only cut shorter!” The effect was fine. Bluebell despised her own auburn braids. And Miss Libbie had black eyes, a short nose, and a few charming dots of freckles sprinkled over her altogether piquant face. She came towards Miss Calder, and took that lady’s hand within her dimpled fingers, and on invitation sat down to have a bit of cake. Every motion was watched by Doctor Garde’s little girl. How hopeless her own bashful awkwardness seemed! Wouldn’t Tildy be s’prised to see a little girl act so much like a grown-up lady!