Mrs. Warfield read in Fred’s happy face and in the bloom upon the fair cheek of Hilda that which she had hoped for was in the way of being realized, but gave no evidence of it by word or manner—she would wait until the young people saw their own time to tell her of the agreement into which they had entered.
Fred was at his best that evening in the way of entertaining their guests, and Mrs. Warfield smiled at the dignity of his demeanor, bespeaking as it did the engaged young man, while Hilda comported herself as if engagements of marriage had ceased to be a novelty.
The luckless Jack Prettyman succeeded in passing one evening without upsetting his chair or breaking his goblet, and to all it was an enjoyable evening.
The next morning Fred arose earlier than usual and descended to the garden, which was dewy and fragrant, and wended his way to the arbor. Birds were twittering in the trees overhead, and colonies of ants dotted with their hills the ground at his feet. Innumerable filmy webs festooned the evergreen borders and flowering shrubs, which, jeweled with dewdrops, sparkled in the beams of the sun.
Happy as Fred had been in all his favored life, he had never been so happy as that morning. Owing to the relations existing between them, he fully expected that Hilda would give him a few minutes of her society before he left for Springfield. But anxiously as he looked toward the house, he saw no evidence of her coming. Instead, Angie rang the bell and he went in to his breakfast, and found Hilda quietly reading by the window which commanded a view of the arbor.
“She could not have helped seeing me,” thought Fred; “she might have come out for a few words!”
It had always been his custom to leave for Springfield as soon as breakfast was finished, and he had no excuse for waiting that morning. Moreover, Paul, his mother and Hilda lingered, as usual, to say good-bye before separating for the duties of the day.
“I may not let two weeks elapse before coming home next time, mother,” he said, as he kissed her at parting.
“Come whenever it suits you, my son; your homecoming is always a joy to us.”
Coke and Blackstone gave precedence to Hilda Brinsfield in Fred’s mind for several days after his visit home, and with chair tilted back, feet elevated and eyes closed, he recalled the conversation in the arbor, while alone in the office of Mr. Meade, attorney-at-law.