eben holden-第24部分

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nd　exhausted。　If　she　sat　in　a　store　waiting　for　David；　while　he　went　to　mill　or　smithy；　her　imagination　gave　her　no　rest。　That　dirt　abhorring　mind　of　hers　would　begin　to　clean　the　windows；　and　when　that　was　finished　it　would　sweep　the　floor　and　dust　the　counters。　In　due　course　it　would　lower　the　big　chandelier　and　take　out　all　the　lamps　and　wash　the　chimneys　with　soap　and　water　and　rub　them　till　they　shone。　Then；　if　David　had　not　come；　it　would　put　in　the　rest　of　its　time　on　the　woodwork。　With　all　her　cleaning　I　am　sure　the　good　woman　kept　her　soul　spotless。　Elizabeth　Brower　believed　in　goodness　and　the　love　of　God；　and　knew　no　fear。　Uncle　Eb　used　to　say　that　wherever　Elizabeth　Brower　went　hereafter　it　would　have　to　be　clean　and　comfortable。

Elder　Whitmarsh　came　often　to　dinner　of　a　Sunday；　when　he　and　Mrs　Brower　talked　volubly　about　the　Scriptures；　he　taking　a　sterner　view　of　God　than　she　would　allow。　He　was　an　Englishman　by　birth；　who　had　settled　in　Faraway　because　there　he　had　found　relief　for　a　serious　affliction　of　asthma。

He　came　over　one　noon　in　the　early　summer；　that　followed　the　event　of　our　last　chapter；　to　tell　us　of　a　strawberry　party　that　evening　at　the　White　Church。

'I've　had　a　wonderful　experience；'　said　he　as　he　took　a　seat　on　the　piazza；　while　Mrs　Brower　came　and　sat　near　him。　'I've　discovered　a　great　genius　…　a　wandering　fiddler；　and　I　shall　try　to　bring　him　to　play　for　us。'

'A　fiddler！　why；　Elder！'　said　she；　'you　astonish　me！'

'Nothing　but　sacred　music；'　he　said；　lifting　his　hand。　'I　heard　him　play　all　the　grand　things　today　…　〃Rock　of　Ages〃；　〃Nearer　My　God；　to　Thee〃；　〃The　Marseillaise〃　and　〃Home；　Sweet　Home〃。　Lifted　me　off　my　feet！　I've　heard　the　great　masters　in　New　York　and　London；　but　no　greater　player　than　this　man。'

'Where　is　he　and　where　did　he　come　from？'

'He's　at　my　house　now；'　said　the　good　man。　'I　found　him　this　morning。　He　stood　under　a　tree　by　the　road　side；　above　Nortlrup's。　As　I　came　near　I　heard　the　strains　of　〃The　Marseillaise〃。　For　more　than　an　hour　I　sat　there　listening。　It　was　wonderful；　Mrs　Brower；　wonderful！　The　poor　fellow　is　eccentric。　He　never　spoke　to　me。　His　clothes　were　dusty　and　worn。　But　his　music　went　to　my　heart　like　a　voice　from　Heaven。　when　he　had　finished　I　took　him　home　with　me；　gave　him　food　and　a　new　coat；　and　left　him　sleeping。　I　want　you　to　come　over；　and　be　sure　to　bring　Hope。　She　must　sing　for　us。'

'Mr　Brower　will　be　tired　out；　but　perhaps　the　young　people　may　go；'　she　said；　looking　at　Hope　and　me。

My　heart　gave　a　leap　as　I　saw　in　Hope's　eyes　a　reflection　of　my　own　joy。　In　a　moment　she　came　and　gave　her　mother　a　sounding　kiss　and　asked　her　what　she　should　wear。

'I　must　look　my　best；　mother；'　she　said。

'My　child；'　said　the　elder；　'it's　what　you　do　and　not　what　you　wear　that's　important。'

'They're　both　important；　Elder；'　said　my　foster　mother。　You　should　teach　your　people　the　duty　of　comeliness。　They　honour　their　Maker　when　they　look　their　best。'

The　spirit　of　liberalism　was　abroad　in　the　sons　of　the　Puritans。　In　Elizabeth　Brower　the　andent　austerity　of　her　race　had　been　freely　diluted　with　humour　and　cheerfulness　and　human　sympathy。　It　used　to　be　said　of　Deacon　Hospur；　a　good　but　lazy　man；　that　he　was　given　both　to　prayer　and　profanity。　Uncle　Eb；　who　had　once　heard　the　deacon　swear；　when　the　latter　had　been　bruised　by　a　kicking　cow；　said　that；　so　far　as　he　knew；　the　deacon　never　swore　except　when　'twas　necessary。　Indeed；　most　of　those　men　had；　I　doubt　not；　too　little　of　that　fear　of　God　in　them　that　characterised　their　fathers。　And　yet；　as　shall　appear；　there　were　in　Faraway　some　relics　of　a　stern　faith。

Hope　came　out　in　fine　feather；　and　although　I　have　seen　many　grand　ladles；　gowned　for　the　eyes　of　kings；　I　have　never　seen　a　lovelier　figure　than　when；　that　evening；　she　came　tripping　down　to　the　buggy。　It　was　three　miles　to　the　white　Church；　and　riding　over　in　the　twilight　I　laid　the　plan　of　my　life　before　her。　She　sat　a　moment　in　silence　after　I　had　finished。

'I　am　going　away；　too；'　she　remarked；　with　a　sigh。

'Going　away！'　I　said　with　some　surprise；　for　in　all　my　plans　I　had　secretly　counted　on　returning　in　grand　style　to　take　her　back　with　me。

'Going　away；'　said　she　decisively。

'It　isn't　nice　for　girls　to　go　away　from　home；'　I　said。

'It　isn't　nice　for　boys；　either；'　said　she。

We　had　come　to　the　church；　its　open　doors　and　windows　all　aglow　with　light。　I　helped　her　out　at　the　steps；　and　hitched　my　horse　under　the　long　shed。　We　entered　together　and　made　our　way　through　the　chattering　crowd　to　the　little　cloakroom　in　one　corner。　Elder　Whitmarsh　arrived　in　a　moment　and　the　fiddler；　a　short；　stout；　stupid…looking　man；　his　fiddle　in　a　black　box　under　his　arm；　followed　him　to　the　platform　that　had　been　cleared　of　its　pulpit　The　stranger　stood　staring　vacantly　at　the　crowd　until　the　elder　motioned　him　to　a　chair；　when　he　obeyed　with　the　hesitating；　blind　obedience　of　a　dog。　Then　the　elder　made　a　brief　prayer；　and　after　a　few　remarks　flavoured　with　puns；　sacred　and　immemorial　as　the　pulpit　itself；　started　a　brief　programme　of　entertainment。　A　broad　smile　marked　the　beginning　of　his　lighter　mood。　His　manner　seemed　to　say：　'Now；　ladies　and　gentlemen；　if　you　will　give　good　heed；　you　shall　see　I　can　be　witty　on　occasion。'

Then　a　young　man　came　to　the　platform　and　recited；　after　which　Hope　went　forward　and　sang　'The　Land　o'　the　Leal'　with　such　spirit　that　I　can　feel　my　blood　go　faster　even　now　as　I　thank　of　it；　and　of　that　girlish　figure　crowned　with　a　glory　of　fair　curls　that　fell　low　upon　her　waist　and　mingled　with　the　wild　pink　roses　at　her　bosom。　The　fiddler　sat　quietly　as　if　he　heard　nothing　until　she　began　to　sing；　when　he　turned　to　look　at　her。　The　elder　announced；　after　the　ballad；　that　he　had　brought　with　him　a　wonderful　musician　who　would　favour　them　with　some　sacred　music。　He　used　the　word　'sacred'　because　he　had　observed；　I　suppose；　that　certain　of　the　'hardshells'　were　looking　askance　at　the　fiddle。　There　was　an　awkward　moment　in　which　the　fiddler　made　no　move　or　sign　of　intelligence。　The　elder　stepped　near　him　and　whispered。　Getting　no　response；　he　returned　to　the　front　of　the　platform　and　said：　'We　shall　first　resign　ourselves　to　social　intercourse　and　the　good　things　the　ladies　have　provided。'

Mountains　of　frosted　cake　reared　their　snowy　summits　on　a　long　table；　and　the　strawberries；　heaped　in　saucers　around　them；　were　like　red　foothills。　I　remember　that　while　they　were　serving　us　Hope　and　I　were　introduced　to　one　Robert　Livingstone　…　a　young　New　Yorker；　stoppmg　at　the　inn　near　by；　on　his　way　to　the　big　woods。　He　was　a　handsome　fellow；　with　such　a　fine　air　of　gallantry　and　so　trig　in　fashionable　clothes　that　he　made　me　feel　awkward　and　uncomfortable。

'I　have　never　heard　anything　more　delightful　than　that　ballad；'　he　said　to　Hope。　'You　must　have　your　voice　trained　…　you　really　must。　It　will　make　a　great　name　for　you。'

I　wondered　then　why　his　words　hurt　me　to　the　soul。　The　castle　of　my　dreams　had　fallen　as　he　spoke。　A　new　light　came　into　her　face　…　I　did　not　know　then　what　it　meant。

'Will　you　let　me　call　upon　you　before　I　leave　…　may　I？'　He　turned　to　me　while　she　stood　silent。　'I　wish　to　see　your