Hildegarde's Harvest. Richards Laura Elizabeth Howe

out the various objects of interest on the way. He paused before a mercer's window, filled with shimmering silks and satins.

      "Now here," he said, "is frippery of a superior description; frippery enough to delight the hearts of a dozen women."

      "Possibly of two dozen, dear sir," put in Hildegarde; "consider the number of yards in all those shining folds."

      "Hum! ha! precisely!" said the Colonel. "Now, Hildegarde, you have some taste in dress, I believe; you appear to me to be a well-dressed young woman. Now, I say, what seems to you the handsomest gown in all this folderol, hey? the handsomest, mind you?"

      "'Said the Kangaroo to the Duck, this requires a little reflection!'" Hildegarde quoted.

      "Perhaps, on the whole, that splendid purple velvet; don't you think so, Colonel Ferrers?"

      "Hum!" said the Colonel. "Ha! possibly; but – ha! hum! that – I may be wrong, Hildegarde – but that seems to me hardly suited to a young person, hey? More a gown for a dowager, it strikes me? I may be wrong, of course."

      "Not in the least wrong, dear sir," said Hilda, laughing. "But you said nothing about a young person. You said 'the handsomest.'"

      "Precisely," said the Colonel again. "And after all, a gown is a temporary thing, Hugh. Now, a bit of jewelry – but now, Hildegarde, I put it to you, if you were going to choose a gown for Elizabeth Beadle, for example; suppose Hugh and I were going to take a present home to Elizabeth Beadle; there's no better woman of her station in the mortal universe, sir, I don't care who the second may be. What do you think suitable, hey?"

      "Oh, Guardian!" and "Oh, Colonel Ferrers!" cried Hugh and Hildegarde, in a breath. "How delightful!"

      "I think Hugh ought to choose," said Hildegarde, with some self-denial; and she added to herself:

      "If only he will not choose the blue and red plaid; though there is nothing she would like so well, to be sure!"

      Hugh surveyed the shining prospect with radiant eyes.

      "I think you are the very kindest person in all the world!" he said. "I think – my mind is full of thoughts, but now I will make my choice."

      He was silent, and the three stood absorbed, heedless of the constantly increasing crowd that surged and elbowed past them.

      "My great-aunt is fond of bright colours," said the child, at last. Hildegarde shivered.

      "She would like best the red and blue plaid. But, people must not always have the things they like best. You remember the green apples, Guardian, and how they weren't half as good as the medicine was horrid."

      "Most astonishing boy in the habitable universe!" murmured the Colonel, under his breath. "Don't undertake to say what kind of boys there may be in Mars, you understand, but so far as this planet goes, – hey? Ha! well, have you made your choice, Young Sir?"

      Hugh pointed out a gray silk, with a pretty purple figure. "That is the very best thing for my great-aunt," he said.

      "That will fill her with delirious rapture, and it will not put out the eyes of anybody. We shall all be happy with that silk."

      So in they went to the shop, and Hugh bought the silk, and the Colonel paid for it, and then they all went off to the Metropolitan, and spent the rest of the morning in great joy.

      CHAPTER V.

      AT THE EXCHANGE

      "And how have you spent the morning, my dear?" asked Mrs. Delansing.

      They were sitting at the luncheon-table. Hildegarde could just see the tip of her aunt's cap above the old-fashioned epergne which occupied the centre of the table; but her tone sounded cheerful, and Hildegarde hastened to tell of her delightful morning. She had enjoyed herself so heartily that she made the recital with joyful eagerness, forgetting for the moment that she was not speaking to her mother, who always enjoyed her good times rather more than she did herself; but a sudden exclamation from Mrs. Delansing brought her to a sudden realisation of her position.

      "What!" exclaimed the old lady, and at her tone the very ferns seemed to stiffen. "What are you telling me, Hildegarde? You have been spending the morning with – with a gentleman , and that gentleman – "

      "Colonel Ferrers!" said Hildegarde, hastily, fearing that she had not been understood. "Surely you know Colonel Ferrers, Aunt Emily."

      "I do know Thomas Ferrers!" replied Mrs. Delansing, with awful severity; "but I do not know why – I must add that I am at a loss to imagine how– my niece should have been careering about the streets of New York with Thomas Ferrers or any other young man."

      Hildegarde was speechless for a moment; indeed, Mrs. Delansing only paused to draw breath, and then went on.

      "That your mother holds many dangerous and levelling opinions I am aware; but that she could in any degree countenance anything so – so monstrous as this, I refuse to believe. I shall consider it my duty to write to her immediately, and inform her of what you have done."

      Hildegarde was holding fast to the arms of her chair, and saying over and over to herself, "Never speak suddenly or sharply to an old person!" It was one of her mother's maxims, and she had never needed it before; but now it served to keep her still, though the indignant outcry had nearly forced itself from her lips. She remained silent until she was sure of her voice; then said quietly, "Aunt Emily, there is some mistake! Colonel Ferrers is over sixty years old; he was a dear friend of my father's, and – and I have already written to my mother."

      Mrs. Delansing was silent; Hildegarde saw through the screen of leaves a movement, as if she put her hand to her brow. "Sixty years old!" she repeated. "Wild Tom Ferrers, – sixty years old! What does it mean? Then – then how old am I?"

      There was a painful silence. Hildegarde longed for her mother; longed for the right word to say; the wrong word would be worse than none, yet this stillness was not to be endured. Her voice sounded strange to herself as she said, crumbling her bread nervously:

      "He is looking very well indeed. He has been in Washington with little Hugh, his ward; he had been suffering a great deal with rheumatism, but the warm weather there drove it quite away, he says."

      There was no reply.

      "Colonel Ferrers is the kindest neighbour that any one could possibly have!" the girl went on. "I don't know what we should have done without him, mamma and I; he has really been one of the great features in our life there. You know he is a connection of dear papa's, – on the Lancaster side, – as well as a lifelong friend."

      "I was not aware of it!" said Mrs. Delansing. She had recovered her composure, and her tone, though cold, was no longer like iced thunderbolts.

      "I withdraw my criticism of your conduct, – in a measure. But I cannot refrain from saying that I think your time would have been better employed in your room, than in gadding about the street. I was distinctly surprised when Hobson told me that you had gone out. Hobson was surprised herself. She has always lived in the most careful families."