Accordingly, two hours afterwards, there was a strong smell of soap suds
arising from one room, while from another a cloud of dust was issuing,
as Hugh himself bent over the broom, wondering where all that dirt came
from, inasmuch as his six dogs had only lain there for a few days!
Aunt Eunice, too, was pressed into the service, and greatly against her
will, come to play the hostess for Hugh, who drove both herself and Aunt
Chloe nearly distracted with his orders and counter orders.
Particularly was he interested in what was to be Alice’s room, sending
for Adah to see if it were right, and would be likely to strike a young
lady favorably.
The cleaning and arranging was finished at last, and everything within
the house was as neat and orderly as Aunt Eunice and Adah could make it,
even Aunt Chloe acknowledging that “things was tip-top,” but said “it
was no use settin’ ’em to rights when Mas’r Hugh done _on-sot_ ’em so
quick,” but Hugh promised to do better. He would turn over a new leaf;
so by way of commencement, on the morning of Alice’s expected arrival he
deliberately rolled up his towel and placed it under his pillow instead
of his night-shirt, which was hung conspicuously over the washstand. His
boots were put behind the fireboard, his every day hat jammed into the
bandbox where ’Lina kept her winter bonnet, and then, satisfied that so
far as his room was concerned, every thing was in order, he descended
the stairs and went into the garden to gather fresh flowers with which
to adorn Alice’s room. Hugh was fond of flowers, and two beautiful
bouquets were soon arranged and placed in the vases brought from the
parlor mantel, while Muggins, who trotted beside him, watching his
movements and sometimes making suggestions, was told to see that they
were freshly watered, and not allowed to stand where the sun could shine
on them, as they might fade before Miss Johnson came.
“You likes her?” and Mug looked inquiringly at him.
“I never saw her,” he replied, “but I mean to like her yes,” and Hugh
spoke the truth.
He could not account for it, but now that it came so near, there was
something enlivening in the prospect of Alice’s coming. He meant to like
her—meant that she should like him. Not as the Golden Haired might have
done had she lived, but as a friend, a sister. He’d try his best to win
her respect before ’Lina came to prejudice her against him, if indeed
she had not done so already and a pang shot through his heart as he
thought how possible it was that Alice Johnson was prepared already to
dislike him. But no, Ad could not be so mean as that, and Hugh went down
to the breakfast which Aunt Eunice had prepared, and of which he could
scarcely taste a morsel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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