A Sweet Little Maid by Amy Ella Blanchard (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📕

glad for dear old Heath.'"

"He has reason to be," responded her uncle. "Dimple, how should you like a new aunt and cousin?"

"Oh, uncle! Is it Rock?"198

"Well, not Rock altogether," laughed he. "Rock's mother, as well."

"Please tell me, Uncle Heath."

"So I will, little girl. Rock's mother is going to be your grey-headed uncle's wife. That makes Rock your cousin, doesn't it?"

"Yes," said Dimple, cuddling up to him, "but you are not grey-headed, Uncle Heath, only grey-templed," she said, softly patting each side of his face.

"She seems perfectly satisfied," said he, looking at his brother.

"Perfectly," he answered. "You could not have pleased her better."

"But, Uncle Heath," said Dimple, "I didn't know you knew Mrs. Hardy."

"I knew her long ago, when she wasn't Mrs. Hardy, but Dora West. Long ago," he repeated, gently stroking her hair.

"Why didn't you marry her then?"

"I wanted to," said he, simply, "but I couldn't. Do you want to be bridesmaid, Dimple?"

"Oh, uncle! Could I?"

"Yes, indeed; and Rock groomsman. We are such a young, frivolous couple, we couldn't think199 of having a grown-up young lady for bridesmaid."

Dimple laughed, and sat in supreme content on her uncle's knee till the breakfast bell rang.

"Florence, I know all about it," she cried, as Florence came in, "and I am going to be bridesmaid, and I know why Uncle Heath is happy, and why Rock can be my cousin. Isn't it lovely?"

Florence looked puzzled, but after a clearer explanation agreed with Dimple that it was "perfectly lovely."

Rock came over after breakfast, with a message for Mrs. Dallas, and Dimple ran out to meet him, crying, "Oh, Rock! your papa is here, and you are going to be my cousin, really and truly. Did you know it?"

"Yes, I knew," said he, "and I'm real glad. Where is Mr. Dallas?"

"My Uncle Heath, or papa?"

"Your Uncle Heath."

"He has gone to see your mamma, I think. And oh, Rock! we are going to be bridesmaids, you and I. No, I mean I am going to be bridesmaid, and you groomsman."

"Yes, and something else I know, too," said200 Rock. "While mamma goes on her wedding trip I am to come here to stay."

"Oh! Rock," exclaimed Dimple, clapping her hands, "that will be lovely, too. How long?"

"Three days, I think."

"Won't we have good times?" laughed Dimple, dancing up and down. "Do come sit down and talk about it. Are you glad you are going to have my Uncle Heath for your papa?"

"Yes, indeed," said Rock.

"And are you going to live here?"

"No, in Baltimore."

"Oh, dear, that is all that spoils it."

"Never mind," said Rock. "I shouldn't wonder if we were to come here summers, and I'll tell you, Dimple, maybe your mother will let you come visit us next winter, and I will take you sleighing."

That comforted Dimple somewhat.

"Where is the wedding to be? I never thought to ask," said she.

"At church, at half-past nine Thursday morning. Then we come back to your house to breakfast, and mamma and Mr. Dallas go away on the twelve o'clock train."201

"When you say Mr. Dallas I think you mean my papa," said Dimple. "I wish you would call Uncle Heath papa."

"But he isn't my papa yet."

"Well, three days doesn't make much difference, and you need only say it to me."

"Well! papa and mamma," said Rock, laughing, "will be back Sunday evening, and Monday we all go away."

"Don't talk about that part of it. I don't want to think of it."

Here Dimple's mamma called her, and she went upstairs. "Wait till I come back, Rock," she said, as she went out, "I want to talk some more."

"What do you want with me, mamma?" she asked as she entered her mamma's room.

"I want to try on your bridesmaid frock."

"Oh, mamma! Is that it?" she exclaimed, as her mamma lifted a soft white mull from the bed.

"Yes, and you are to wear a white hat and carry a basket of flowers. Isn't it odd that my little daughter should be bridesmaid for some one who was once her mamma's bridesmaid, and who used to play with her when she was a little girl?"202

Dimple laughed at the idea, as she put her arms through the arm-holes, and said, "It is all so funny, mamma, that I can't straighten it out at all. It is like a fairy tale, and, O! mamma, I look like a fairy in this frock. Isn't it lovely? I wish I might go down and show it to Rock and Florence."

"Very well, you may, only be very careful not to catch it on anything."

"I will be, mamma," and she danced off to display her finery.

"See, Rock! See, Florence! Don't I look almost like a fairy?" she exclaimed, as she went into the library, where they both were sitting, each in a big chair.

"Oh! you do look sweet!" they said, and Dimple smiled and blushed at the praise, quite delighted with herself; but presently she looked at Florence a little gravely, and said:

"Florence, I feel so selfish. Do you care very much that I am to be a bridesmaid, and you not?"

"No, indeed, for I am to be bridesmaid when my sister is married, anyhow, and I would so much rather see it all than to be right in it."203

So Dimple went up to take off her frock quite reassured.

"Mamma, what are you going to wear? White, too?" she asked.

"No, grey, with pink roses; and Mrs. Hardy will wear pale lavender and white roses."

"I thought brides always wore white."

"Not always," answered her mamma.

Long before half-past nine on the eventful morning Dimple stood ready, slippers, hat and all; her basket of flowers tied with white ribbons on the piano; and she felt very grand, indeed, when the carriage, with Rock in it, drove around for her. She had been up by daybreak, around to the church with flowers, upstairs to see that her bridesmaid toilet was all right, down into the kitchen to ask Sylvy for a peep at the wedding cake, which, black with fruit inside and white with frosting out, stood on the sideboard.

Then there was the table to see, and little helpful things to do for her mamma, while she arranged it; flowers to gather, a great bowl of fresh roses in the centre.

Then it was such a delight, after she and Florence were dressed, to watch her mamma get204 ready; to see her dainty laces, and hold her flowers ready for her to pin on.

At last the great moment really arrived, and she found herself stepping up the aisle with Rock, feeling a little embarrassment, though it was a very quiet wedding, only a few near friends being present; but she bore herself very bravely, holding her flower basket very tightly, and keeping time with her slippered feet to the wedding march.

She did not dare even to look at Rock, but kept her eyes steadfastly cast down.

She and Rock were the first to get back to the house, and when the new Mrs. Dallas reached there, Dimple rushed up to her and gave her a frantic hug, calling her "dear Aunt Dora;" then as frantic a hug was bestowed upon her uncle.

She danced through the rooms like a will-o'-the-wisp, hardly willing to sit at the table long enough to eat anything at all.

When the bridal pair drove away to the depot, a shower of rice and old shoes were flung after them by all the children, Bubbles included.

After the house was quiet again, Dimple, Florence and Rock sat talking it all over in the parlor.205

"Were you frightened when you walked up the aisle?" asked Florence.

"A little; but I thought about looking at my slippers, and didn't see the people. Did I look all right?"

"Yes; as lovely as possible, and I never should have thought you were frightened. What did you do with the flowers? And, oh Dimple, who had the lovely little figure on top of the cake?"

"I know," said Rock. "I heard mamma tell Dimple's mother that the bridesmaid ought to have that; and I think so, too."

"Oh!" said Dimple. "I think you ought to have it, Rock."

"No, indeed. That would be a fine way to do, I must say. It is to be yours. Mamma said so, and that settles it."

"Well," said Dimple. "But I have so much, it seems to me. Florence, isn't it funny for Rock to have a new papa? Everything turns out so oddly. Don't you know how provoked we were that day when Bubbles told us that mamma was bringing a boy out to see us?"

"And now that boy is your cousin," said Rock.

"Yes; and I am glad, too," replied Dimple,206 giving his hand a little affectionate pat. "I never knew boys could be so nice, till I saw you."

Rock laughed. "That's a pretty big compliment," he said.

"It isn't a compliment; it's the truth."

"And a compliment can't be the truth, I suppose?"

"Why, I don't know. Can it?"

"Of course; though just flattering words aren't always the truth. I've heard ladies who came to see mamma say, 'What a sweet child your little one is!'" Rock said this very affectedly, and the girls laughed. "And you know," Rock went on, "they didn't know a thing about me; they just said it to make mamma feel pleased, and that's what I call flattery."

"Oh, yes; I think I see," said Dimple.

The three days that followed were very merry ones for the children. They frolicked from morning till night, and did more wonderful things than ever they had dreamed of doing before.

Rock was the nicest sort of comrade, and they got along without any fusses whatever. Sunday was their last day together, for Florence was to207 go the next day, too, under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Heath Dallas, and her trunk was standing, packed, ready to be sent.

"Won't we have a pew full this morning?" said Dimple, at the breakfast table. "Five people. Rock, you must sit between Florence and me. I can sit next to mamma, and Florence next to papa."

"Oh, no; let me sit by auntie," said Florence.

"Very well," said Dimple. "I can sit by papa just as well, and if I get sleepy I can tumble over on him."

Papa laughed and said it was a pleasant prospect for him.

The church windows were open, a soft breeze fluttered the leaves outside and the slow rustle of fans fluttered bonnet strings inside.

Dimple leaned her head back against the pew, and looked out at the white clouds drifting across the sky, so dreamily and softly; she heard the birds singing in the trees, and now and then came back to a consciousness of the minister's voice, and she caught a sentence here and there; but she could not fix her attention on the sermon at all; she was thinking of the dreaded to-morrow208 that would take her playmates away from her. The quiet and solemnity of the place only added to the sadness of her thoughts, and as the last hymn was being sung, the tears gathered in her eyes and dropped silently down on her book.

Finally she could stand it no longer, but slipped down on her knees, buried her face in the cushions, and fairly sobbed.

No one knew what was the matter, and Mrs. Dallas looked distressed, fearing she was ill. Mr. Dallas leaned down toward her, and whispered, "Are you ill, Dimple?"

But she shook her head, and when the hymn was ended, he drew her close to him, and put his arm around her, while she kept her face hidden on his shoulder.

No one could tell what ailed her, as every question only brought a fresh burst of tears, and she walked home in silence.

It was not until they were in the house, that she could tell what affected her.

Then her mother took her on her lap, and she had her cry out there, while Florence and Rock, looking much concerned, stood by.209

"Tell me, daughter, what ails you," her mother said, pushing back the curls from the little tear-stained face.

"It was so solemn—and—I was thinking about everybody's going away to-morrow," she said, between her sobs. "Then they sang—'Where friend holds fellowship with friend. Though sundered far'—and all that—and I couldn't stand it any longer," and the tears still rained down her face.

At this Florence's eyes filled up, and she put her arms around Dimple, and they cried together, while it took Mrs. Dallas, Rock, and Mr. Dallas, all three, to comfort them.

"You will soon be going to school, Dimple," said her papa, "and then you will have ever so