Mrs. Fell and her daughter Janet were making oaten bread one December day;—a work which requires the full attention of two persons. The cow-boy appeared at the door, with a look of excitement very unusual in him. He said somebody was coming; and the somebody was Backhouse, the traveling merchant. The women could not believe it—so late in the year; but they left their baking to look out; and there, sure enough, was the peddler, with his pack on his shoulders, toiling up the steep. They saw him sit down beside the barn, and wipe his brows, though it was December. They saw him shoulder his pack again; and then the women entered into consultation about something very particular that they had to say to him. As people who live in such places grow dull, and get to think and speak with extraordinary slowness, the plot was not complete when the peddler appeared at the door. He explained himself quickly enough; had thought he would make one more round, as the season was mild—did not know how long the snow might lie when it did come—believed people liked to wear something new at Christmas; so here he was. When would he take his next round? O! when the weather should allow of his bringing his stock of spring goods. He detected some purpose under the earnestness with which he was pressed to say when he would come. He would come when the Fells pleased, and bring what they pleased. He must come before the first of April, and must bring a bunch of orange flowers, and a white shawl, and—
"Two sets of the orange flowers," said Janet.
"What! two brides!" exclaimed Backhouse. "Are they to be both married in one day?"
Mrs. Fell explained that there was to be a bride's maid, and that Janet wished that her friend should be dressed exactly like herself. Backhouse endeavored to prove that only brides should wear orange flowers; but Janet was sure her friend would be best pleased to wear what she wore; and the peddler remembered that nobody within call of the chapel bell would know any better; so he promised all that was desired. And next, he sold half the contents of his pack, supplying the women with plenty of needlework for the winter evenings. Brides enjoy having a new wardrobe as much in the mountains as in towns—perhaps more.
Whenever the young carpenter, Raven, came up to see his betrothed, he found her sewing, and some pretty print, or muslin, or bit of gay silk lying about. It was all very pleasant. The whole winter went off pleasantly, except for some shadow of trouble now and then, which soon passed away. For instance, Raven was once absent longer than usual, by full three days; and when he did come, there were marks left which told that he had staid away because he had been ashamed of two black eyes.
"He had been drinking, I dare say," said Mrs. Fell to Janet afterward, with the air of indifference with which drunkenness is apt to be spoken of in the district. "I don't wonder he did not like to show himself."
"I don't think it is his way," observed Janet.
"No; it is not a habit with him; and they all do get too much, now and then—two or three times a year—and it will be seldomer than that when he comes to live up here."
Raven was to be adopted as a son, on marrying the only child, and it was very right; for Fell was growing old; and he was more feeble than his years warranted. Rheumatism plagued him in the winter, and he was overworked in the summer. Raven would help to manage the little farm, and he would do all the carpentering work, and put the whole place in repair, outside and in. Every thing was to go well after the wedding.
Sally, the bridesmaid, came in good time to put the orange flowers into her coarse Dunstable bonnet, which streamed with white ribbons. It was a fine April morning, when the party set off down the mountain for their walk of three miles to the chapel. The mother remained at home When Fell returned, he told her it had gone off extremely well, and the clergyman had spoken very kindly; and that Fleming's cart was ready, as had been promised, to take the young people to the town where they were to be entertained at dinner. It was all right, and very pleasant. And the old people sat down to dinner, dressed in their best, and saying, many times over, that it was all right with them, and very pleasant. The only thing was—if Raven's name had but been Fell! The Fells having lived here for five hundred years—