“I have three night-shirts done, embroidered for Alcander, and I am not goin’ to make any more of them for Christmas; and you, Minnie,” sez she, turnin’ to the pert-faced domestic, “you may wash them and do them up the next time you wash.”
“Why,” sez Minnie, “I can’t do the washin’ and ironin’ as well as you can, Mis’ Pogram. Mr. Pogram won’t like my ironin’, I am sure.”
“Well, he will have to stand it,” sez Fidelia, lookin’ some pale, but real decided; “and when you broil the steak for supper, Minnie, be sure you don’t burn it; have a hot platter ready for it, and put on the butter and pepper and salt even, and bring it to the table pipin’ hot.”
The girl’s hauty feathers seemed to droop, and she spoke more respectful to Fidelia than I had hearn her speak, and sez she, “I will do my best, mom.”
And sez Fidelia, “If Mr. Pogram comes here before we do, tell him that Josiah Allen’s wife and I have gone out for a long drive.”
In my inmost heart I said, “Bravo, Fidelia! bravo!” But outside I only said, “I shall be real glad to have a good long drive with you, Fidelia; it will put me in mind of old times.”
So Fidelia ordered her pony and low phaeton brought to the door and we sot off. It wuz a very comfortable carriage, cushioned with blue. I see that Alcander did his part by Fidelia in furnishin’ comforts and luxuries for her, only, bein’ so much engaged in incense-burnin’ and embroidery, she couldn’t take advantage of ’em. As I lay back on the soft cushions my mind roved off on the strange turn things had took, and I wondered if it wuz the atmosphere of my strong desire and goodwill to help her that had stimulated Fidelia to use a little common-sense; for I had not said a word to her about her affairs and Alcanderses. I knew that high, clear mountain air would do wonders for sick folks in a short time, and I knew that my will to help her towered up perfectly mountainous and high, and I spoze mebby it braced her up. We mortals are such strange creeters anyway that we can’t really understand how things be thus and so. But, ’tennyrate, as we rolled along the pleasant country roads, under trees orange and scarlet and gold-colored, sweet with the birds’ late songs, out into sunny stretches of open country roads, sun-glorified, and further embellished on either side by cozy homesteads and loftier mansions, and anon long green meadows stretchin’ away to green woods and tree-covered hills, with a tender haze hangin’ about ’em—as our phaeton rolled noiselessly on through the soft, sweet Injun-summer air, Fidelia’s cheeks got to lookin’ considerable pink, and her faded eyes brightened up considerable, and her faculties seemed to sort o’ wake up, and she acted brighter than I had seen her act for upwards of ten years.
Well, supper wuz all ready when we got home. Fidelia had only jest time to go to her room and pin a pink bow onto the bosom of her dress, but I don’t know when I have seen her look so well. Alcander noticed it in a minute. He looked quite admirin’ at her; and though the steak might not have been so delicious as Fidelia’s, yet her directions had been carried out, and it wuz good enough. ’Tennyrate, Alcander seemed to enjoy his supper the best that ever wuz, for he and Fidelia wuz talkin’ together in a way I hadn’t hearn ’em for years. And take Fidelia when she wuzn’t so wore out burnin’ incense, and br’ilin’ steaks and chops and chickens, and drawin’ threads out of fine linen and workin’ ’em in agin, she wuz a smart woman and very agreeable companion.
Minnie, I noticed, had retired more into the background, as it were; she waited on the table with a different air, less as if she wuz the mistress of ceremonies, and more as if she wuz the helper instead of the giver of the feast.
Well, it wuz on the fifth day, as Alcander and Fidelia and I wuz a-drivin’ along through the soft air in the luxurious easy carriage, behind two prancin’ horses, real happy and contented, and talkin’ good-naturedly, who should we meet but two young folks in a runabout? The young man wuz bendin’ fondly over the young woman, so engrossed in conversation that they didn’t notice our presence till we got almost up to them. Then they looked up, and we see that it wuz Elinor and Louis Arnold. But wuz it Elinor? Yes, it wuz. But what a change from the pale, hollow-eyed drawn-work stitcher! Her cheeks were pink, and happiness sparkled in her soft blue eyes like two bright stars becalmed in the June heavens. They had made up, and Louis Arnold looked handsome and happy and contented.