Fifteen minutes' careful work, and Hilda stood looking at her image
in the glass, well pleased and a little surprised; for she had been too
busy of late to think much about her looks, and had not realized how sun
and air and a free, out-door life had made her beauty blossom and glow
like a rose in mid-June. With a scarlet chaplet crowning her fair locks,
bands of gold about waist and neck and sleeves, and the whole skirt
covered with a fantastic tracery of mingled gold and fire, she was a
vision of almost startling loveliness. She gave a little happy laugh.
"Dear old Farmer!" she said, "he likes to see me fine. I think this will
please him." And light as a thistledown, the girl floated downstairs and
danced into the kitchen just as Farmer Hartley entered it from the other
side.
"Highty-tighty!" cried the good man, "what's all this? Is there a fire?
Everything's all ablaze! Why, Hildy! bless my soul!" He stood in silent
delight, looking at the lovely figure before him, with its face of rosy
joy and its happy, laughing eyes.
"It's a tree-party," explained Hildegarde, taking his two hands and
leading him forward. "I'm part of it, you see, Farmer Hartley. Do you
like it? Is it pretty? It's to celebrate our good fortune," she added;
and putting her arm in the old man's, she led him about the room,
pointing out the various decorations, and asking his approval.
Farmer Hartley admired everything greatly, but in an absent way, as if
his mind were preoccupied with other matters.
Pages:
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173