It is strange how the roots of things all get together after a while, as they stretch out feelers hither and thither. I used to think if there was one woman in the parish who resembled mamma in the sweet family interest that she managed to create about those who came within her circle it was Mrs. Ryder. Their house was just lovely. The parlor opened into the sitting-room, that into the dining-room, at the end of the hall, and from thence into the kitchen. They lived all the way through, as we did. You commenced in the parlor but you found every place just as good. Flowers were everywhere, pictures everywhere, even in the kitchen where hung “The Gossips,” a laughable engraving of “Moving Day,” a pretty rustic catch-all wall-pocket, and a shelf of geraniums across one window. It wasn’t much larger than a hall bedroom, but it was always neat and picturesque, the more so when Jennie was in it with her sleeves tucked up, baking or washing dishes.
I believe Dick recognized the resemblance between mamma and Mrs. Ryder in this peculiar motherliness. He took her to ride now and then, and began to bring odd specimens of ferns and dried leaves to them, and sent them some nice fruit and vegetables from the farm. We went with him quite often to spend the evening, but mamma had cautioned us about dragging Jennie injudiciously forward.
One day Fan and mamma were talking about him quite confidentially, when the latter said—
“You do not feel inclined to repent your decision, my dear?”
“No, mamma;” she answered with a little fitful color.
“You have only to go on then in this manner, and remain very cordial friends. I shall be glad to have you. But if you should wish to repent, now would be the auspicious time. He is a very worthy young man.”
“Would you like me to, mamma?” Fan asked in a tremor of alarm.
“Not unless you wish it above all things, then you would be wrong to let a little false pride stand in the way.”
“I do not wish it above all things.”
“My darling, we should be sorry to give you away so soon,” and mamma kissed her fondly. “We are a trifle selfish, you see.”