CHAPTER XVI.
Painful Recollections—The Last Boat of the Season—Ruffled Plumes—Reconciliation.
hen Little Wolf awoke the next morning, her mind instantly reverted to the painful subject, that had banished sleep from her eyes the greater part of the night, and, as the shameful scene came up again vividly before her, she buried her face in her pillow and groaned aloud. While thus indulging afresh her grief and mortification, she was aroused by a sound which turned her thoughts in another direction. She started up eagerly and threw open the window which commanded an extended view of the river, and, in the distance, she could just discern through the fast falling snow, a brave little steamer, as if by magic ploughing its way up through snow and ice.
Little Wolf hung out of the window half in fear lest the welcome vision should vanish; but it kept steadily onward, drawing nearer and nearer to its destination, and soon she had the satisfaction of seeing it safely moored, and, by the active discharge of freight, it was evident that it would attempt a downward trip.
The thought of home banished every other from her mind, and she hastily drew inside and shook the white flakes from her glossy hair, and began to arrange them in curls. But the unruly locks had blown about so long in the wind, and got so cold and tangled and required so much coaxing and brushing, that Little Wolf began to despair of ever getting them in order.
Just then she observed on the dresser a bottle of what she supposed to be pomatum, but in reality, a mixture for the lungs, made of honey and other ingredients, which by exposure to the cold had partially congealed. She caught it up and literally saturated her hair in the contents and then with great spirit proceeded to her task.
At the first onset the brush stuck fast; "Dear me what ails it?" she ejaculated throwing down the brush and making desperate dives with a coarse tooth comb.
By this time her pretty tangled ringlets had stiffened into a striking resemblance to cork screws interspersed with porcupine quills. By a succession of impatient jerks she endeavored to bring the wayward mass to submission; but the more she attempted to separate and arrange, the closer the loving locks embraced each other, and she was beginning to despair of conquering the difficulty, when she heard a light knock and Mrs. Tinknor's kind voice said "May I come in?"
"O dear, yes," said Little Wolf, springing to the door, "do come in, my dear Mrs. Tinknor, and tell me what this horrid pomade is made of."
"Why, dear child, what have you been doing to yourself? your hair looks as if ten thousand furies had been tearing it."
"O Mrs. Tinknor, it is this horrid pomade."
Mrs. Tinknor's eye fell upon the offending preparation. "Why, bless your heart my child," she exclaimed in dismay, "you have been using Aunt Betsy's cough medicine."
Little Wolf threw herself on the bed convulsed with laughter, and Mrs. Tinknor heartily joined in the merry peals.
"I came to tell you," said Mrs. Tinknor, when somewhat composed, "that a steamer has just arrived, and Mr. Tinknor and Tom have gone out to ascertain when she will return, if at all.
"O, I know she's going back right away," said Little Wolf springing up. "I saw them hurrying off the freight; O dear, what shall I do with my hair?" She was beginning to feel too anxious to laugh now.
"Come to my room, dear, it is warmer there and I can soon wash it out for you. Now put this shawl around you; never mind dressing, we have the house all to ourselves you know."
"Suppose I were to get caught in this ridiculous plight," said Little Wolf, pushing her feet into her slippers, "I wouldn't have Tom see me for the world."
"Then run along quickly and make sure," said Mrs. Tinknor, laughingly, "I think we needn't feel concerned about the gentlemen coming back for half an hour," she added, as Little Wolf ran on before.
Now the gentlemen had already returned, bringing Edward with them. The latter, having forstalled them at the boat, met them as he was hurrying to Little Wolf with the necessary information. On coming in they unluckily took possession of the very room through which the ladies would pass in order to reach Mrs. Tinknor's apartment.
Reassured by her hostess, Little Wolf pushed confidently forward, making bold and decisive charges at the obstructing doors, and in this manner, made her way directly into the presence of the two young gentlemen, Mr. Tinknor having gone in search of his wife.
Here she was brought to a sudden stand, but it was only for an instant, for Little Wolf, like a true womanly general, was skilled in retreat when caught in rumpled uniform. She turned and darted through the door which stood accommodatingly open, and although Edward's suppressed smile, and Tom's uproarious laugh, goaded her on, she stopped long enough to lock them in, thus cutting off pursuit which Tom evidently meditated; he having, in consideration of their long and intimate acquaintance, felt himself warranted in chasing after her, and was at her heels, when he suddenly found himself a prisoner.
"O Wolf, Wolf, he shouted, pounding upon the door, "the boat, the boat, she'll leave"—
"When will she leave?" said Little Wolf, stopping short.
"Let me out and I'll tell you, come, be quick, there's no time to be lost. If you want to go here's Mr. Sherman to take charge of you."
"I can take care of myself," muttered Little Wolf, but, while she paused she had additional cause for mortification; for Squire Tinknor had found his way to his wife, and her only refuge was behind Mrs. Tinknor's flowing skirts. Here she partially screened herself, while he informed them that the boat would attempt a downward trip in the course of an hour. "Ha, ha, ha," concluded the Squire, "if sis is bent on going, she must make haste out of that plight."
By the united efforts of her friends, Little Wolf took passage for Chimney Rock, and Edward, looking very handsome and self-possessed, acted as her escort.
Without explanation, without apology, without so much as a look of contrition from her travelling companion, at the first interview Little Wolf forgave all the pain and mortification he had made her feel. She had forgiven him without knowing it. She thought herself still angry because her heart ached.
Edward was surprised. He had expected to meet indignant looks, and perhaps reproachful words; he had feared even worse, for he well knew the decision that marked Little Wolf's forming character, and he had armed himself to meet the treatment which he felt he justly merited. But his chosen weapon of defense was pride and so was useless when opposed to Little Wolf's unusual gentleness. He was subdued, and when man's proud spirit is once subdued by the forbearance of the woman he loves, that woman henceforth becomes to him an object of adoration.
Edward had the day before called Little Wolf, darling, now he called her angel, and before he parted from her he had said "my angel," and she had smiled upon him when he said it.
