Keith, opening the door in answer to Rhoda Jane's knock, was struck with the peculiar expression of the girl's face—a mixture of pride, condescension and exultation.
"Good evenin' Mis' Keith. Where's Mildred?" she said, stepping in and glancing about the room with an air of importance, "I want to see her pertickler; got somethin' fur her," and a conscious glance at the missive in her hand enlightened the quick-witted lady as to its nature.
"Mildred is not at home," she said; "will not be until bedtime; but anything you choose to leave with me will be given her on her return."
Rhoda Jane considered a moment. She felt a strong desire to deliver the note into Mildred's own hand, and to watch her while reading it; but should she carry it back Gote might change his mind and put off indefinitely this business which she was so desirous to have carried through at once.
She left it, though with evident reluctance.
She presently congratulated herself that she had done so. Gotobed, eagerly awaiting her return, peering anxiously every other minute through the smithy door, hailed her in breathless excitement.
"Well, what—what did she—"
"She wasn't there. She's gone out somewheres and won't be back till bedtime."
"Give it to me then; quick!" and he held out his hand with a peremptory gesture.
"I ain't got it," Rhoda Jane answered with a sardonic grin.
"Where is it? you ain't gone and left it," he cried aghast.
"Yes, I have; I give it to Mis' Keith."
Gotobed groaned. "I'd thought better of it; I'd throw it in the fire this minute if I had it here. She'll think me a fool. I know she will!"
"If she does she's one," returned Rhoda Jane shortly, and left him to his unavailing regrets.
How they tortured him! how could he bear the suspense.
Mildred was merciful and did not keep him in doubt any longer than necessary. He found a letter next morning, in the post-office, with his address upon it, written in a lady's delicate graceful hand.
His heart seemed to jump into his mouth at the sight. He almost snatched it from the postmaster's hand, and without stopping to answer the jesting remark of that functionary on his sudden accession of color, hurried away, never stopping till he reached the privacy of his own room, thankful that he succeeded in doing so without being seen by any of the family.
But now it was a full minute ere he could summon courage to open the missive and learn his fate. And even when it lay open before him he passed his hand several times across his eyes as if to clear his sight.
Yet it was very plainly written;—also plainly expressed; a distinct, decided, though very kindly rejection of his suit; the only reason given that she could not love him and a loveless marriage could be fruitful of nothing but misery to both parties.
Chapter Seventeenth.
"The rose that all are praising
Is not the rose for me."
—Baylie.
"Gotobed Lightcap, you're the biggest fool that ever was born!" exclaimed the young blacksmith, between his clenched teeth, throwing Mildred's dainty note upon the floor and grinding it with his heel, while the hot blood surged over his swarthy face, which expressed in every lineament intense mortification and chagrin. "You might 'a knowed the likes o' her couldn't never fancy sech a ungainly, know nothin' varmint as you be."
He dropped his face into his hands for a moment, groaning in spirit—for the wound in his heart was deep as well as that to his pride.
"It does seem as if there warn't nothin' left in this world worth livin' fur!" he sighed. "But then I'm not the feller to give up and die! I'll fight it out an' get over it yet."
He picked up the letter and thrust it into his bosom, straightened himself, went down into the smithy, and fell to work at his anvil, dealing vigorous blows as if thus he would drive away the demon of despair.
He ate little at dinner, and conscious that Rhoda Jane's sharp eyes were upon him, scarcely lifted his from his plate.
He hurried back to his work. She followed him the next minute.
"So she's give you the mitten?"
"Who told you so?" he asked defiantly, standing before her with arms folded and head erect, but reddening to his very hair.
"Humph! I ain't blind, and anybody could see it with half an eye. Well, never you mind! you're a sight too good fur her, the—"
"Don't you call her no names now! I ain't agoin' to have it. It's me that isn't fit to hold a candle to the like o' her, and had ought to had sense enough to know it.
"Well, I didn't boast like Ransquattle; that's one small bit o' comfort as things has turned out," he concluded moodily, picking up his hammer.
"How'd he take his mitten?" laughed Rhoda Jane. "Wouldn't I ha' liked to seen him puttin' it on!"
"Take it! you never see anybody look so cheap as Nick when Mocker asked him 'tother day when the weddin' was to come off. Then the fellers run him ('twas at Chetwood and Mocker's store; I'd run in on a arrant fur mother) and he growed thunderin' mad, and begun callin' her names till Ormsby was ready to put him out—if he hadn't walked off hisself—and I could 'a horse-whipped him with a right good will."
"Well, don't you go and break your heart fur her."
"I ain't a goin' to. There now, you'd better leave; fur I've a job on hand."
The building lot selected by the Keiths was bought and fenced in almost immediately, and men set to work at digging the cellar, and then putting up the walls of the new house.
By dint of energetic oversight and urging on of the workmen, Mr. Keith succeeded in having it roofed in before the first heavy fall of snow; so that some advance could be made with the laying of floors, lathing, etc., during the winter.
When spring came things took a fresh start; more men were employed and every effort put forth by the owner, to have the building hurried on to completion.
Each member of the family was deeply interested; the children made daily journeys to the spot and all Rupert's leisure time was devoted to digging, planting and other improvements of the grounds.
The boy was full of energy and fond of life in the open air. His garden did him credit, supplying nearly all the vegetables wanted for family use.
With some assistance from older heads and hands, he terraced the bank overlooking the river, made steps down to the water's edge, where was a fine spring, and built a small arbor and a spring-house.
The new dwelling would be hardly so large as the one they were to leave for it, until an addition should be built, but of more sightly appearance and far more conveniently
