Early on the morrow he was away to the camp, to renew the fires under his sugar-kettles. The cool, fresh air of the woods refreshed and restored his spirits somewhat. He placed on the breakfast-table two bouquets of wood-flowers, and met his guests with the easy grace and courtesy of an accomplished host; and both felt for the first time the charm of his manner, and recognized that it sprung from a superior nature.
As they were about to rise from the breakfast-table, "Gentlemen," said he, "Miss Kate Fisher gives, this afternoon, a little sugar party, out at her father's camp. Henry, she sent over an invitation specially for you two, with one to me, for courtesy. I cannot go; but you must. You will meet, Mr. Ranney, several young ladies, any one of whom will convert you to my creed of love and poetry, and two or three young, men stupid enough to master the law,"—with a bright smile. "I promised you would both go. The walk is not more than a mile, the day a marvel right out of Paradise, and you both need the exercise, and to feel that it is spring."
"And why don't you go, Barton?" asked Henry.
"Well, you are not a stranger to any whom you will meet, and don't need me. In the first place, I must remain and gather the sap, and can't go; in the second, I don't want to go, and won't; and in the third, I have several good reasons for not going,"—all very bright, and in good humor.
"What do you say, Ranney?"
"Well, I would like to go, and I would like to have Barton go with us."
"Would you, though?"—brightening. "No, I can't go; though I would be glad to go with you anywhere."
CHAPTER XX.
WHAT THE GIRLS SAID.
Kate's little party, out on the dry, bright yellow leaves, gay with early flowers, under the grand old maples, elms and beeches, in the warm sun, came and went, with laughter and light hearts. If it could be reproduced with its lights, and colors, and voices, what a bright little picture and resting-place it would be, in this sombre-colored annal! I am sad for poor Bart, and I cannot sketch it.