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"W-what's the matter, Cynthy?" he asked, sinking into the chair beside her. Her breath caught sharply, but she tried to smile at him. He did not discover what was the matter until long afterward, when he recalled that evening to mind.
Cynthia sat down on the grassy mound under the apple tree and clasped her hands across her knees. She looked up at him and shook her head. "Don't you see that I couldn't wear it, Uncle Jethro?" "Why not?" he demanded. "Ch-change it if you've a mind to hev green." She shook her head, and smiled at him a little sadly. "T-took me a full hour to choose that, Cynthy," said he.
Cynthia awoke and lay staring for an instant at the red planet which hung over the black and ragged ridge, and then she arose quickly and knocked at the door across the passage. "Are you ill, Uncle Jethro?" "No," he answered, "no, Cynthy. Go to bed. Er I was just thinkin' thinkin', that's all, Cynthy."
"Uncle Jethro, I believe you are the best man, in the world." "D-don't say that, Cynthy d-don't say that," he exclaimed, and a sharp agony was in his voice. He got to his feet and went to the folding doors and opened them. "Steve!" he called, "Steve!" "S-says she'll stay, Steve." Mr. Merrill had come in, followed by his wife. Cynthia saw them but dimly through her tears.
"But, surely," cried Cynthia, who could scarcely wait for him to finish, "surely you're going to give Cousin Eph the post-office, aren't you, Uncle Jethro? All you have to do is to tell the President that you want it for him. Why, I had an idea that we came down for that." "Now, Cynthy," Ephraim put in, deprecatingly. "Who else would get the post-office?" asked Cynthia.
By this time, Wetherell, too, had reached the ground, and as Lem Hallowell gazed into his face the laughter in his own died away and gave place to a look of concern. "Don't wonder ye come back," he said, "you're as white as Moses's hoss." "He isn't feeling very well, Lem;" said Cynthia. "Jest tuckered, that's all," answered Lem; "you git him right into the stage, Cynthy, I won't be long.
Even Coniston folk had laughed at the idiosyncrasy which Jethro had of dressing his wife in brilliant colors, and the girl knew this. "G-got it for you to wear to Brampton on the Fourth of July, Cynthy," he said. "Uncle Jethro, I couldn't wear that to Brampton!" "You'd look like a queen," said he. "But I'm not a queen," objected Cynthia. "Rather hev somethin' else?"
"Godfrey!" exclaimed Ephraim, "they told me he was hard to talk to. Why, Cynthy, he's as simple as a child." "I've always thought that all great men must be simple," said Cynthia; "Uncle Jethro is." "To think that the President of the United States stood talkin' to us on the sidewalk for half an hour," said Ephraim, clutching Cynthia's arm.
"Well, Cynthy," said he, "I know why these old fellows take you round with 'em. To take care of 'em, eh? They're not fit to travel alone." And so it was settled, after much further argument, that they were all to sup at Mr. Merrill's house, Cynthia stoutly maintaining that she would not desert them. And then Mr.
Ringgan," said Cynthy, "hadn't I better run up the hill after supper, and ask Mis' Plumfield to come down and help to- morrow? I s'pose you'll want considerable of a set-out; and if both them young men comes, you'll want some more help to entertain 'em than I can give you, it's likely." "Do so do so," said the old gentleman.
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