“Yes, to a girl in Springfield,” continued Mrs. Duvall, not noticing her visitor’s embarrassment. “She is a great friend of Miss Lura’s and of course will be at the wedding and you will have a chance to see her.”
“I never heard that Cousin Fred was waiting upon anyone in Springfield,” said Hilda faintly.
“No, I reckon not. Fred Warfield waits upon so many girls it is hard to keep track of him. It was about a month ago that I heard it, so most likely he has dropped the Springfield girl and is in love with another. He always had a sweetheart, sometimes one, and sometimes another, ever since I first knew him.”
Hilda breathed more freely. It had been a fort-night since Fred had engaged himself to her, and Mrs. Duvall evidently knew nothing of his attachment. Fred had told her of the girl in Springfield that last time he was at home, and in his happy-go-lucky manner had made merry over the flirtation between them, at which Mrs. Warfield had reproved him while she vainly tried to conceal her amusement at his travesty of the affair.
“That Fred Warfield was always the best-natured fellow that ever lived,” resumed Mrs. Duvall. “Paul would get mad sometimes, but Fred you couldn’t make mad no matter what happened. He just made merry over everything and was the kindest, tenderest-hearted boy that ever lived, and wouldn’t hurt the feelings of a fly.”
“I must go now, Mrs. Duvall,” said Hilda, rising. “Aunt Sarah will be glad to know that you can come. I have to call at Uncle Herbert’s store for spices and other things, and will ask him to send them here for Mr. Duvall to bring out in the morning if convenient for him to do so.”
“Certainly, Miss Hilda! Nothing pleases him better than to oblige Mrs. Warfield or any of the family. I will be sure to come early, and please tell Mrs. Warfield that I can stay as long as she needs me.”
“She will be glad to know that, and Aunt Sarah requests you not to walk to the farmhouse, for I am to drive to the dressmaker’s in the village on Tuesday morning for my gown and will take you home with me.”
“What kind of a gown are you having made, Miss Hilda, if I may be so bold as to ask?”
“A white silk, and the bride’s is white satin. It was made in Philadelphia and is very elegant.”