51. CHAPTER LI.
HIDING.
A month had passed thus in this sweet interchange of affectionate
cares between the pale, sad Lady of the Snow and Fanny, whose
whole life seemed to be bursting into bloom under this new influence,
vivifying as the sunshine; and on the evening when Harley
approached the cabin, they were enjoying the last hours of the Indian
summer in a little enclosure behind the hut, where Fanny had
made her modest flower-garden.
The flowers were not fine ones, with long, scientific names. An
ornamental gourd, with yellow globes, striped with green, twined
itself around some touch-me-nots, whose white blooms were relieved
against the red trumpets of the cypress-vine, and a clustering
profusion of purple morning glories rioted—twisting themselves
in like manner, around the stalk of a single, towering prince's-feather,
which bowed its crimson masses with proud courtesy
toward its little mistress.
The Lady of the Snow had just shaken some of the minute ebon
seed of the tall plant into her hand, and was pointing out the wonder
of the growth of the stalwart stalk and the gorgeous blooms
from so small a germ, when the footsteps of a horse were heard, and
the lady turned her head quickly.
Through an opening in the tree she saw and recognized Harley,
who had evidently not seen them yet.
“Justin Harley!” murmured the Lady of the Snow, in a low, startled
tone; “he is coming! He will see me! He must not!—Oh!
he must not!”
She took Fanny's arm, and hastened with her toward the house,
evidently unaware that the girl had heard the words which she
had uttered.
“Then you know Mr. Harley?” Fanny said, speaking from the
impulse of the moment.
“Yes! yes!”
“Is he your friend? I hope so. He is ours.”
“He is—he is my—but come, come, my child. Do not ask me
anything. Oh no! he must not see me!”
She hurried in through the little door in rear of the house, exclaiming,
“Do not speak of my being here!” and hastening into the
small chamber, closed the door just as Harley rode up to the hut.
He had heard the sound of the voices, but had seen no one; Fanny
had opened at his knock, and the brief colloquy had taken place,
followed by Harley's departure.
Fanny then tapped at the door of the inner room, and said, in a
low tone,
“He is gone!”
And thereupon the door of the room was opened. The lady,
looking exceedingly pale, and catching her breath nervously, made
her appearance, and listening to the receding hoof-strokes, sank
into a chair.
“This—agitation—must appear very strange to you, my child,”
she murmured, “but—but—I have been very unhappy in my life,
and—and—Mr. Harley—”
Her head sank, and some tears rolled down her cheeks. Fanny's
flowed in response, and she went and put her arms around her
friend's neck.
“Don't cry!” she said; “you make me cry, too. I do not want
to know your secret—if you have one. You love me, and I love
you very dearly, and that is enough!”
The thin arm of the poor lady clasped the child, and she murmured
in a tone so low that it was almost inaudible:
“I have something to live for still!”
Thereupon a few more tears came, and calmness succeeded.
Fanny and the lady talked, and they were talking still when the
sound of hoof-strokes was heard again.
“He is coming back!” exclaimed the lady, rising quickly.
“He said he would come—to see father.”
“But your father is away!”
“Yes. I will tell him.”
“He must not see me! Oh! I cannot say that too often!—
he must not!”
“He shall not!”
The lady hurried into the little room again, followed by Fanny,
who had closed the front door of the cabin.
“I will stay here with you!” said Fanny; you are trembling
so!”
“Yes! yes! Stay with me. I feel faint.”
She ran and locked the inner door as she spoke.
“He will not find your father, and will think you are away or
asleep. It is a deception, but an innocent one! Oh! stay with
me!”
The hoof-strokes were at the door, and a man was heard dismounting.
“He is coming!” exclaimed the lady. “Oh! pretend you are
asleep! Do not answer him! I must have you with me!”
“I will stay with you—do not be afraid!” exclaimed the warm-hearted
child.
At the same instant a voice was heard, coming, apparently, from
the woods in front of the hut.
“Jest in time, squire! I'm glad I got back in time to see you.
I want to have some talk with you, squire!”
