worst invader of our tender bosoms:How does thy rancour poison all our softness,
And turn our gentle natures into bitterness!"
—Rowe.
The news was too good to keep, and Rupert could not forbear stopping at the smithy on his return and giving Gotobed a hint of how matters stood.
To say that the certainty of a decided rejection of Ransquattle's suit lifted a burden of anxiety from young Lightcap's mind, is not an over-estimate of the relief the boy's communication afforded him.
He had been moody and depressed since his visit of the morning to Ransquattle's shop, and had refused to give Rhoda Jane any satisfaction as to his intentions in regard to making one of the sleighing party of the following evening. She was therefore agreeably surprised when toward bed-time he came, in quite a merry mood, into the kitchen where she sat sewing alone, their mother having stepped out to see a neighbor, to tell her that he had decided to go.
"Well, I'm glad of it," she said, "and who are you going to take?"
He colored at the question and answered almost doggedly, "I'm going after Sarah Miller."
"Why don't you ask Mildred Keith?"
"'Cause there ain't no use; Ormsby's headed me off there."
"Yes; an' if you don't look out, with yer pokin' ways, he'll head you off altogether, and marry her afore you know it."
"She ain't goin' off in such a hurry," he muttered, drumming on the table with his fingers; then jumping up from his chair and going over to the stove, making a pretense of warming himself that he might avoid the keen scrutiny of his sister's sharp eyes; "but what's the use o' me a tryin' with all them fellers round?"
"Gote Lightcap, I'm ashamed of you!" exclaimed Rhoda Jane. "If I was a man I'd have more pluck by a long shot. 'Twouldn't be me that would let any feller get ahead where I was amind to go in and win."
"You don't know nothin' about it," he retorted, lighting a candle and stalking off to bed.
"Dear me, if he only had half my spunk!" said Rhoda Jane, looking after him with scornful eyes and a curling lip.
The wish was echoed more than once in his heart as he lay awake far into the night revolving the subject in his mind, and filled with longings, doubts and fears.
He had been so greatly rejoiced over the downfall of Ransquattle's hopes; yet after all what did it avail him while the other three, whose superiority he could not help acknowledging to himself, remained in the way? Alas, there was no great cause for exultation that one rival out of four had been removed from his path.
Still was it quite certain that they were all rivals? might it not be that Miss Chetwood or Miss Grange was the more attractive girl to one or all of them? The six were so constantly seen together, the attentions of the three young men were so equally divided between the three girls, that who could tell how they were going to pair off, if at all?
Besides there was no accounting for tastes and a lady didn't always select that one from among her admirers whom other people in general considered the most desirable match. There was yet a spark of hope for him, but—ah if he only had Rhoda Jane's pluck and energy of determination!
Near sunset of the next day a large omnibus sleigh drawn by four horses with jingling bells, and well supplied with buffalo robes and other appliances for keeping the cold at bay, went from house to house in Pleasant Plains, picking up the girls and "boys" to the number of a dozen or more—a very merry company—then glided swiftly on over the snow for some six or eight miles.
The sleighing was fine, the weather not severe; the moon rose soon after the setting of the sun, and the girls being well muffled up in hoods, cloaks and other wraps, were warm and cosy, and vastly enjoyed the ride.
Of course the lads did the same. They laughed, jested and sang, and found time fly as swiftly as the horses; who seemed to make nothing of their load.
The destination of the party was a hotel in a neighboring village, where a supper had been ordered for them some days before. It was served up, hot and savory, shortly after their arrival.
A couple of hours were afterward spent in the parlor of the hotel, in social chat and playing games; and here they were joined by Mr. Timothy Buzzard, who taught a singing school in this town also.
"There's another rival," thought Gotobed, jealously watching him carrying on a lively conversation with Mildred; "'pears like every body's after her; and I can't get no chance at all."
Rhoda Jane was equally jealous—partly for her brother, but still more for herself; because last year Mr. Buzzard had waited upon her more than on any other girl in Pleasant Plains, and she considered him her property and "didn't fancy bein' cut out by no newcomer nor by anybody else, for that matter."
Influenced by the desire to separate the two, she was the first to suggest that it was time to start for home. She was agreeably surprised that Mildred promptly seconded the motion.
Some objected, saying there was no hurry, but as it was now eleven o'clock, these were overruled by the majority, and the sleigh was presently announced as in readiness.
"Can't we make room for another passenger?" some one asked, as amid laughter and jesting, they were crowding into the vehicle.
"Who is it?" queried another.
"Why, Buzzard would—"
"No, we hain't room for no more?" interrupted Gotobed. "We're not agoin' to have the ladies crowded."
"Speak fur yerself, Gote Lightcap," spoke up Rhoda Jane with spirit. "There ain't none of us so disobligin' as not to be willin' to scrouge a little for the sake of accommodatin' a fellow critter in distress. Set up a little closer, girls, and there'll be lots o' room."
"Yes; the more the merrier, and the closer the warmer," assented Sarah Miller, Gote Lightcap's partner for the expedition, who had noticed with vexation and chagrin his evident interest in Mildred Keith. "Come on, Buzzard," making room for the singing teacher between Rhoda Jane and herself.
"Thank you, ladies. I shall be a thorn between two roses," he said, taking the offered seat with a laugh at his own stale jest.
"Now we've got the singing master along, let's have some music," said Rhoda Jane, when they were fairly on their way.
"Yes, you'll be expected to pay your way Buzzard," remarked Ormsby.
"I hope I'll always be found willing to do that," he responded. "Miss Lightcap, what shall I sing?"
Highly pleased that the choice was given her, Rhoda Jane promptly named a love song she had heard him sing as a solo.
He gave it, then another, selected by Miss Miller, then turning to Mildred,
"I think it is your turn now, Miss Keith," he said.
She proposed a round he had taught them that winter, saying all could join in it.
All did so with right good will. Other rounds, glees, choruses and solos followed. They sang on even after reaching Pleasant Plains; sang on till but two or three were left as one after another was set down at his or her own
