her fairy footsteps trod. Morris did not fully know that he was hugging this fond dream, until he felt the keen pang which cut like a dissector's knife as Katy, turning her bright, eager face up to him, whispered softly: "He's coming to-morrow—he surely is; I have his letter to tell me so."
Morris did not see the sunshine then upon the distant hills, although it lay there just as purple as before Katy came, bringing blackness and pain when heretofore she had only brought him joy and gladness. There was a moment of darkness, in which the hills, the pond, the sun setting, and Katy seemed a great ways off to Morris, trying so hard to be calm, and mentally asking for help to do so. But Katy's hat, which she swung in her hand, had become entangled in the vines encircling one of the pillars of the piazza, and so she did not notice him until all traces of his agitation were past, and he could talk with her concerning Wilford, and then playfully lifting her basket he asked what she had come to get.
This was not the first time the great house had rendered a like service to the little house, and so Katy did not blush when she explained how her mother wanted Morris' forks, and saltcellars, and spoons, and would he be kind enough to bring the castor over himself, and come to dinner to-morrow at two o'clock?—and would he go after Mr. Cameron? The forks, and saltcellars, and spoons, and castor were cheerfully promised, while Morris consented to go for the guest; and then Katy came to the rest of her errand, the part distasteful to her, inasmuch as it might look like throwing disrespect upon Uncle Ephraim—honest, unsophisticated Uncle Ephraim—who would come to the table in his shirt sleeves. This was the burden of her grief—the one thing she dreaded most, inasmuch as she knew by experience how such an act was looked upon by Mr. Cameron, who, never having lived in the country a day in his life, except as he was either guest or traveler, could not make due allowance for these little departures from refinement, so obnoxious to people of his training.
"What is it, Katy?" Morris asked, as he saw how she hesitated, and guessed her errand was not done.
"I hope you will not think me foolish or wicked," Katy began, her eyes filling with tears, as she felt that she might be doing Uncle Ephraim a wrong by even admitting that in any way he could be improved. "I certainly love Uncle Ephraim dearly, and I do not mind his ways, but Mr. Cameron may—that is, oh, Cousin Morris! did you ever notice how Uncle Ephraim will persist in coming to the table in his shirt sleeves."
"Persist is hardly the word to use," Morris replied, smiling comically, as he readily understood Katy's misgivings. "Persist would imply his having been often remonstrated with for that breach of etiquette; whereas I doubt much whether the idea that it was not in strict accordance with politeness was ever suggested to him."
"Maybe not," Katy answered. "It was never necessary till now, and I feel so disturbed, for I want Mr. Cameron to like him, and if he does that I am sure he won't."
"Why do you think so?" Morris asked, and Katy replied: "He is so particular, and was so very angry at a little hotel between Lakes George and Champlain, where we took our dinner before going on the boat. There was a man along—a real good-natured man, too, so kind to everybody—and, as the day was warm, he carried his coat on his arm, and sat down to the table that way, right opposite me. Mr. Cameron was so indignant, and said such harsh things, which the man heard, I am sure, for he put on his coat directly; and I saw him afterward on the boat, sweating like rain, and looking sorry as if he had done something wrong. I am sure, though, he had not?"
This last was spoken interrogatively, and Morris replied: "There is nothing wrong or wicked in going without one's coat. Everything depends upon the circumstances under which it is done. For me to appear at table in my shirt sleeves would be very impolite; but for an old man like Uncle Ephraim, who has done it all his life and who never gave it a thought, would, in my estimation, be a very different thing. Still, Mr. Cameron may see from another standpoint. But I would not distress myself. That love is not worth much which would think the less of you for anything _outré_ which Uncle Ephraim may do. If Mr. Cameron cannot stand the test of seeing your relatives as they are, he is not worth the long face you are wearing," and Morris pinched her cheek playfully.
"Yes, I know," Katy replied; "but if you only could manage Uncle Eph I should be so glad."
Morris had little hope of breaking a habit of years, but he promised to try if an opportunity should occur, and as Mrs. Hull, the housekeeper, had by this time gathered up the articles required for the morrow, Morris himself took the basket in his own hands and went back with Katy across the fields, which had never seemed so desolate as to-night, when he felt how vain were all the hopes he had been cherishing.
"God bless you, Katy, and may Mr. Cameron's visit bring you as much happiness as you anticipate," he said as he set her basket upon the doorstep and turned back without entering the house.
Katy noticed the peculiar tone of his voice, and again there swept over her the same thrill she had felt when Morris first said to her, "And did Katy like this Mr. Cameron?" but so far was she from guessing the truth that she only feared she might have displeased him by what she had said of Uncle Ephraim; and as an unkind word breathed against a dear friend, even to a mutual friend, always leaves a scar, so Katy, though saying nothing ill, still felt that in some way she had wronged her uncle; and the good old man, resting from his hard day's toil, in his accustomed chair, with not only his coat, but his vest and boots cast aside, little guessed what prompted the caresses which Katy bestowed upon him, sitting in his lap and parting lovingly his snowy hair, as if thus she would make amends for any injury done. Little Katy-did he called her, looking fondly into her bright, pretty face, and thinking how terrible it would be to see that face shadowed with pain and care. Somehow, of late, Uncle Ephraim was always thinking of such a calamity as more than possible for Katy, and when that night she knelt beside him, his voice was full of pleading earnestness as he prayed that God would keep them all in safety, and bring to none of them more grief, more suffering, than was necessary to purify them for His own. "Purified by suffering" came involuntarily into Katy's mind as she listened, and then remembered the talk down in the meadow, when she sat on the rock beneath the butternut tree. But Katy was far too thoughtless yet for anything serious to abide with her long; and the world, while it held Wilford Cameron as he seemed to her now, was too full of joy for her to be sad, and so she arose from her knees, thinking only how long it would be before to-morrow noon, wondering if Wilford would surely be there next time their evening prayers were said, and if he would notice Uncle Ephraim's shocking grammar!
CHAPTER V.
WILFORD'S VISIT.
Much surprise was expressed by all the Cameron family, save the mother, when told that instead of accompanying them to New York, Wilford would take another route, and one directly out of his way; while, what was stranger than all, he did not know when he should be home; it would depend upon circumstances, he said, evincing so much annoyance at being questioned with regard to his movements, that the quick-witted Juno readily divined that there was some girl in the matter, teasing him unmercifully to tell her who she was, and what the fair one was like.
"Don't, for pity's sake, bring us a verdant specimen," she said, as she at last bade him good-by, and turned her attention to Mark Ray, her brother's partner, who had been with them at Newport, and whom she was bending all her energies to captivate.
With his sister's bantering words ringing in his ears, Wilford kept on his way until the last change was made, and when he stopped again it would be at Silverton. He did not expect any one to meet him, but as he remembered the man whom he had seen greeting Katy, he thought
