Part 95

Being unable to solve the puzzle, it afforded him plenty of occupation to work away at it.

Mr. Clemcy and Miss Ophelia, caring as little for the opinion of the stage-driver as for the rest of the world, received the visitors on the broad stone piazza, whose pillars ran the length of the house, and up to the roof, affording a wide gallery above. It was all entwined with English ivy and creepers taken from the homestead in Devonshire, and brought away when the death of the old mother made it impossible for life to be sustained by Miss Ophelia unless wrenched up from the roots where clustered so many memories. So Brother John decided to make that wrench, and to make it complete. So here they were.

"I didn't know it was so pretty," cried Clem, after the ladies had been welcomed with the most gracious, old-time hospitality, and the schoolgirls tumbled out of the barges to throng up. "It rained so when we were here before, we couldn't see anything."

"Pretty?" repeated Alexia, comprehending it all in swift, bird-like glances. "It's perfectly beautiful!" She turned, and Mr. Clemcy, who was regarding her, smiled, and they struck up a friendship on the spot.

"Miss Salisbury, allow me." Mr. Clemcy was leading her off. Miss Anstice, not trusting the ill-fated white gown, rustled after in the black silk one, with Miss Ophelia, down the wide hall, open at the end, with vistas of broad fields beyond, where the host paused. "Let the young ladies come," he said; and the girls trooped after, to crowd around the elder people.

Amongst the palms and bookcases, with which the broad hall was lined, was a pedestal, whose top was half covered with a soft, filmy cloth.

Mr. Clemcy lifted this, and took it off carefully. There stood the little vase, presenting as brave an appearance as in its first perfection.

Miss Salisbury uttered no exclamation, but preserved her composure by a violent effort.

"I flatter myself on my ability to repair my broken collection," began Mr. Clemcy, when a loud exclamation from the girls in front startled every one. Miss Anstice, on the first shock, had been unable to find that composure that was always "sister's" envied possession; so despite the environment of the black silk gown, she gave it up, and sank gradually to the ground.

"I told you so," cried Clem, in a hoarse whisper to her nearest neighbors; "she always spoils everybody's fun," as Miss Anstice, at the host's suggestion, his sister being rendered incapable of action at this sudden emergency, was put to rest in one of the pretty chintz-covered rooms above, till such time as she could recover herself enough to join them below.

"I couldn't help it, sister," she said. "I've been so worried about that vase. You don't know, because you are always so calm; and then to see it standing there--it quite took away my breath."

Oh, the delights of the rose-garden! in which every variety of the old-fashioned rose seemed to have had a place lovingly assigned to it. Sweetbrier clambered over the walls of the gardener's cottage, the stables, and charming summer-houses, into which the girls ran with delight. For Mr. Clemcy had said they were to go everywhere and enjoy everything without restraint.

"He's a dear," exclaimed Lucy Bennett, "only I'm mortally afraid of him."

"Well, I'm not," proclaimed Alexia.

The idea of Alexia being in any state that would suggest fear, being so funny, the girls burst out laughing.

"Well, we sha'n't any of us feel like laughing much in a little while," said Clem dolefully.

"What is the matter?" cried a dozen voices.

"Matter enough," replied Clem. "I've said so before, and now I know it's coming. Just look at that."

She pushed aside the swaying branches of the sweetbrier, and pointed tragically. "I don't see anything," said one or two of the girls.

"There!" "There" meant Mr. Clemcy and Miss Salisbury passing down the rose-walk, the broad central path. He was evidently showing her some treasured variety and descanting on it; the principal of the Salisbury School from her wide knowledge of roses, as well as of other subjects, being able to respond very intelligently.

"Oh, can't you see? You stupid things!" cried Clem. "He's going to marry our Miss Salisbury, and then she'll give up our school; and--and--" She turned away, and threw herself off in a corner.

A whole chorus of "No--no!" burst upon this speech.

"Hush!" cried Alexia, quite horrified. "Polly, do stop them; Miss Salisbury is turning around; and she's been worried quite enough over that dreadful Miss Anstice," which had the effect of reducing the girls to quiet.

"But it isn't so," cried the girls in frantic whispers, "what Clem says." And those who were not sure of themselves huddled down on the summer-house floor. "Say, Alexia, you don't think so, do you?"

But Alexia would give them no comfort, but wisely seizing Polly's arm, departed with her. "I shall say something that I'll be sorry for," she declared, "if I stay another moment longer. For, Polly Pepper, I do really believe that it's true, what Clem says."

And the rest of that beautiful afternoon, with rambles over the wide estate, and tea with berries and cream on the terraces, was a dream, scarcely comprehended by the "Salisbury girls," who were strangely quiet and well-behaved. For this Miss Salisbury was thankful.

And presently Miss Anstice, coming down in the wake of Miss Ophelia, was put carefully into a comfortable chair on the stone veranda, where she sat pale and quiet, Miss Clemcy assiduously devoting herself to her, and drawing up a little table to her side for her berries and cream and tea.

"Now we will be comfortable together," said Miss Ophelia, the maid bringing her special little pot of tea.