“She is in the garden arranging bouquets for the vases. She expects several of the young people, from the village to pass the evening here.”
“I hoped she would have no visitors this evening,” commented Fred, a shadow crossing his handsome face.
“She invited them because she was quite sure you would be here, and, Fred, I hope you will divide your attentions among the girls, and not devote them to one of them, as you have a habit of doing. You know that you care for no one long at a time, so why do you give them reason for thinking you are in earnest?”
“Now, mother, that is cruel!” exclaimed Fred, reddening, while his dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “You will blight my prospects if you proclaim me fickle. I am afraid an earnest girl would be influenced by your opinion of me, and doubt my sincerity should I offer my hand and heart.”
“The idea of a boy making an offer of his hand and heart!” laughed Mrs. Warfield.
“Twenty-one next fall, just in time to cast my first vote! Lots of fellows are settled in life at that age,” and he gayly left the room in search of Hilda.
He did not follow the straight course, but instead took a circuitous path to the arbor, where sat Hilda upon a rustic chair, the table before her covered with flowers, and all framed in by the vine-covered arch.
Very deftly her fingers were adding sweet to sweet, apparently unconscious that a pair of handsome eyes were regarding her with admiration. Her simple gown of dark blue material fitted her graceful figure to perfection, and was finished at throat and wrists with filmy white frills. From the pocket of her white apron peeped the handles of bright scissors, and a broad-brimmed sun hat lay on the bench beside her. Her luxuriant hair was bound by a narrow crimson ribbon, and a crimson rose upon her breast cast its warm glow upon her rounded cheek.
This costume was considered by Fred as the most becoming of any in which he had seen her, yet he called to mind that he had thought the same of every toilet in which she appeared, only that the sunlight flickering through the leaves made the picture more lovely.
An incautious step upon a stick which snapped under the pressure betrayed his near approach. Hilda smiled but did not look up.