Margaret gave a rapid summary of Andrea’s feeling, softening and smoothing everything, and adding that the best thing would be to take her up to the Hill Farm after tea. The sight of her future home would do more to reassure her, and give her a feeling of confidence, than any words.
Waldsen had put down his pails and stood looking at Margaret as she spoke. Her face was turned partly towards him, but she was looking past over the hills. She wore a plain, soft, gray woollen gown with a dark red belt and neck-band, and there was a bit of red, her favourite colour, in her hat, while her cheeks were flushed with the excitement of the scene she had just undergone. He wondered that he had never noticed before how fine her face was, how graceful and well poised her carriage, and he listened to what she said, half bowing as to a superior being.
The first meal passed off happily enough; Andrea, looking very sweet and shy, had added a light blue neckerchief to her almost nunlike black gown, her tears having only given a natural colour to her face. Waldsen beamed upon her in his happiness, occasionally relapsing inadvertently to Danish as they talked, much to the amusement of the Deacon, who seemed quite jovial, and indeed it was a pleasure to him to have three young faces at the table.
After supper Margaret and Andrea washed the dishes and put them away, Margaret saying casually: “Gurth wants you to take a walk with him; he has a surprise for you. I will set the bread to-night and close the house; to-morrow you shall begin and do your half. Go, Andrea; the sun will be down before you are halfway up the hill.”
“Will you not come also, Miss Margaret?” said Waldsen’s soft voice.
“Not to-night.”
The sun disappeared behind the mill, and a whip-poor-will called suddenly from a maple near the house. Rob, the collie, gave an uneasy whine, and coming in, poked his cold nose into Margaret’s hand, as if impatient at her revery. She patted him, went to the table, lighted the lamp, and was arranging the backgammon-board just as her father’s step sounded on the piazza.
“What! all alone, daughter? This seems like old times,” he said, as he sat down to his game. “So the lovers haven’t come back yet, eh? How we miss Waldsen!” Looking up, expecting a reply, he saw that Margaret was apparently absorbed in an intricate move.