As he heard the loud laugh which this speech called forth, he continued, without the shadow of a smile:
“I had—’strue’s I live, for I ain’t none o’ your tight critters. Nobody ever said that of Ben Bur—Ben Butterwith,” he added, hastily, for until Marian was discovered to Frederic, he thought it best to retain the latter name.
“Ben Butterworth,” repeated the young girl in an aside to her brother—“Why, Will, didn’t sister Mary tell us that was the adopted brother or cousin of her new governess? You know Miss Grey mentioned his name in one of her letters.”
“Yes, sir,” said Ben, ere Will had time to reply. “If by Mary you mean Miss Sheldon, I’m the chap. Brought my sister there to-day, to be her schoolma’am, and I don’t want you to run over her neither, ’cause you’ll be sorry bimeby. That was all gammon I told you about never being away from home before, for I’ve seen considerable of the world.”
The cars from Boston were by this time rolling in at the depot, and without replying to Ben’s remark, the young lady went out to look for her friend.
That night, just after dark, Mrs. Sheldon’s door bell rang, and her brother and sister came in, the latter dressed in the extreme of fashion, and bearing about her an air which seemed to indicate that she had long been accustomed to receive the homage of those around her. Seating herself on the sofa, she began, “Well, Mary, Will and I have come over to see this wonderful prodigy. Mother was here, you know, this afternoon, and she came home half wild on the subject of Miss Grey, insisting that I should call directly, and so like a dutiful daughter I have obeyed, though I must confess that the sight of Ben Butterworth, whom we met at the depot, did not greatly prepossess me in her favor.”
“They are not at all alike,” said Mrs. Sheldon, “neither are they in any way related. Miss Grey is highly educated, and has the sweetest face I ever saw. She has some secret trouble, too, I’m sure, and she reminds me of a beautiful picture over which a vail is thrown, softening, and at the same time heightening its beauty.”
“Really,” said Will, rousing up, “some romance connected with her. Do bring her out at once.”
Mrs. Sheldon left the room, and going up to Marian’s chamber, knocked at the door. A low voice bade her come in, and she entered just in time to see Marian hide away the daguerreotype of Frederic, at which she had been looking.
“My brother and sister are in the parlor and have asked for you,” she said.