University of Virginia Library

19. CONCLUSION

It would be pleasant to continue this story of Arabella indefinitely, and to show how she improved and developed, learning the right use of money and its almost unlimited power for good, showing herself a devout and exemplary member of that little church in the neighboring parish, which she had so long attended and acting as its bountiful benefactress, until such time as, through her help and exertions, Kenoosha could boast a sanctuary of its own. All this and much more might be told. How she cheered and brightened the cold and comfortless life at the homestead, and gave its two occupants a new interest in everything; how she visited Alicia, the Winslows, and Uncle Frederick, in turn, and how they and the children, Carrie and Marion, Reginald and George, came back many times to Kenoosha, and always regarded their sojourn there as amongst the pleasantest of their experiences.

But as it is not possible within the limits of a single story to penetrate thus into the future, it is better merely to relate one or two incidents which marked the close of that first holiday time, when the children from town came to make the acquaintance of their newly found cousin. It may be remembered that Carrie had brought her pony and pony-carriage from town, and in this vehicle the children in turn took the most delightful drives. The pony was regarded as perfectly safe, no one ever apprehending that he would one day kick up his heels and run away. Yet this was what actually happened, and in the following manner. The two boys, George and Reginald, had gone fishing with Silas, and Arabella had walked over to the village, a distance of about half a mile, to ask for letters at the Post Office. Meantime Carrie had arranged to take Marion for a little drive and she had been carefully packed into the seat by the Mammy. It was a radiantly beautiful morning, such as only June can show, and which in its last lingering days it seems to intensify. The abundant foliage waved softly in a light breeze. The lanes and the roadside were overflowing with luxuriant bloom, the sky was nearly cloudless. The two little girls went along for some time in complete enjoyment and as they supposed, in perfect security. Neither of them could tell precisely what happened, possibly the broken branch of an overhanging tree, making weird shadows on the sward and striking the animal as he passed. Whatever was the cause, the effect was as certain as it was sudden. The pony stretched his limbs and fairly flew, getting completely beyond Carrie's control and dashing frantically, they knew not whither, on, on, with the chance of another vehicle colliding with theirs, or of being dashed over the high cliff downwards into the lake. Happily for the children, there was something in their training which had taught them self control, for they sat rigid and immovable with white, set faces and a prayer arising to their lips.

Meantime Arabella, having called at the Post Office, was returning homeward, lingering by the roadside to pick a flower here and there, and feeling the full enjoyment of the exquisite weather. Suddenly she heard the sound of wheels, and presently of flying hoofs. She stood still and listened, her ear was trained, and she knew that country folks did not usually drive at so reckless a pace. She moved to the side of the road and waited. Then she saw, in one swift glance, the familiar pony, flying as no one dreamed he could have flown, his mane in disorder, his eyes wild with fright. She saw likewise, the white, agonized faces of the children, and knowing that one of them was Marion, realized what it meant. The danger was imminent for them, it would be more so for her, if she did the only possible thing, and tried to stop the animal in its headlong career. She remembered a lesson, which the Purple Lady had been reading only lately:

"Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his brother."

The words flashed into her mind as she steadied herself and sprang forward, to save her two cousins and particularly that helpless one, for the sake of Christ. She planted herself firmly in the road and snatched at the bridle. The pony reared, plunged, struggled and darted forward again, dragging her with him. But she would not lose her hold, though her hands and knees were torn and bleeding and her strength seemed wholly unavailing. Nevertheless, the speed of the beast was checked, this weight clinging upon him and the pulling of the bridle, he began to slacken his pace, and finally stood still, trembling violently and covered with sweat, not half a dozen paces from the edge of the cliff.

It seemed almost miraculous that Arabella escaped with severe cuts and bruises, indeed, but without any serious injury. There were moments when the two in the phaeton believed that she would be killed before their eyes, and the doctor, who was called in, could scarcely believe that no bones were broken, and that, so far as he could discover, there was no internal injury. The feelings of the negro Mammy, of Mrs. Christie and of Mrs. Wharton, may be better imagined than described. Grave fears were likewise entertained that Marion in particular might suffer from nervous shock. But no such thing occurred. Her health, which had very much mended during her stay in the country, remained quite unimpaired, as did that of little Carrie. Mrs. Wharton was able, in fact, to write quite a satisfactory report of the affair both to Mrs. Winslow and Uncle Frederick. The latter was so relieved and so grateful to Arabella that he sent down on the very next day the most beautiful little diamond incrusted watch, within which was inscribed:

"To a heroine, with a father's grateful thanks."

And a heroine Arabella was, not only in the household, but to the whole village, so that there would have been great danger of her getting spoiled only for her strong common sense. She was up and around in a few days again. At first she had to remain in the house and amuse herself in various plays with Marion and Carrie. They played with dolls, and they played house and grocery-store, and a number of those other games wherein children of the gentler sex particularly delight. They also heard many a story from the Mammy, who could not do enough for Arabella to show her gratitude. And certainly both Mrs. Christie, Mrs. Wharton and Alicia testified, by every means in their power, their affection for the little girl and their deep thankfulness and rejoicing that she had been spared to them. Marion and Carrie were forevermore devoted to their cousin, and a nice, long letter came from Mrs. Winslow, which only a mother could write, and which few would have expected from that quarter. She thanked Arabella in the most moving terms for the services rendered to her darling Carrie, and prayed heaven to bless her with its choicest favors. Those were very pleasant, happy days, never to be forgotten, whatsoever the changes or vicissitudes of after life. And from that time Arabella's position in the entire family was established on that most secure of basis — love and admiration.

She progressed so favorably that she was able to be present at the grand celebration which marked the last day of her guests' visit to Kenoosha. After that they were all going away again, and things were to resume much of their former course at the homestead. This celebration took the form of a picnic to a lovely spot, a forest nook, in the glen overlooking the lake.

Mrs. Christie, Margaret McCloskey and the two maids had been busy for days previous in preparing the contents of the huge hampers, which were put into the 'bus driven by Silas himself. This vehicle accommodated the whole party, the domestics included. It was another glorious day, though June had given place to July, and it was quite warm enough to make the fresh, cool shelter of the woods and the breezes from the water delightful. Under the umbrageous shadows of oaks, hemlocks, birches and other forest monarchs the party gathered. With scents of pine, fir, sassafras and the countless odors of the woodlands regaling their nostrils.

In the various sports which were indulged in, Reginald, yielding himself to the joy of the moment, was quite as active as George. Silas forgot his taciturnity, and chuckled with positive delight. Mrs. Christie and Alicia entered entirely into the spirit of the occasion, and the Purple Lady, by her quiet, tactful suggestions and infinite resource, was a host in herself.

Marion sat with the mammy under a great oak, her wan cheeks glowing with health, her eyes bright, while Carrie and Arabella brought her as much as possible into all their games, and offered her acorns and flowers and sassafras root and all the forest treasures.

The boys, under Silas' direction,and taking all necessary precautions, built a fire, where water was boiled and coffee made by more skillful hands than theirs. Potatoes and peanuts were roasted in the embers, morsels of cold meat spitted on forks and browned, while presently the contents of the hamper were unpacked. All the children except, of course, Marion, helped in this important ceremony. Tablecloths were spread on green knolls, one for the elders, the other for the young folk, with huge bunches of wild flowers in the centre. Japanese napkins and wooden plates were arranged, and the good things displayed in delightful profusion. Cold chickens and freshly boiled ham, jellied tongue and a pigeon pie, with cake and ice cream and jelly, and home-made candy, supplemented by a large box sent down from town by Uncle Robert, who, it may be mentioned, had kept Arabella well supplied during her late illness.

Healths were drunk in ginger ale and lemonade; the Purple Lady's health and Mrs. Christie's, Mr. Christie's and Aunt Alicia's, Mrs. Winslow's, Mr. Frederick's and Mr. Robert's; everybody's health, in short. But the most impressive moment was when Reginald arose to propose Arabella's health, which George supplemented by springing to his feet and suggesting an addition:

"Three cheers for Arabella! May she live long and prosper."

This latter sentiment was, of course, a quotation which he had learned, but it fitted the occasion and was promptly adopted by his hearers.

"Three cheers for Arabella!" echoed all the children, and the deep voice of Silas, "Hip, hip, Hurrah! may she live long and prosper!" and with that sentiment, which the woodlands reechoed and carried far over the lake, and which was repeated next day at the station, just before the train bore the guests away, this narrative may as well come to a close. The words seemed to ring in Arabella's ears, as she remained with tear-dimmed eyes upon the platform and watched the slowly disappearing train, and they followed her homeward, and haunted her, when she stood gazing once more at the homestead, with its cheerful, new wing, at the familiar surroundings, at the sky, now brilliant in the sunsetting, and thought of all that had come and gone. While she stood thinking the deep thoughts of childhood, the words seemed almost as a prophecy and a prayer, uttered in all sincerity by those childish voices and from the depths of unspoiled hearts.

"May you live long and prosper, Arabella. May you live long and prosper."