The Story of Waitstill BaxterWiggin, Kate Douglas Smith
General
The Story of Waitstill Baxter
Wiggin, Kate Douglas Smith
Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; New England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Sisters -- Fiction
“I will take you there myself and explain everything. And the moment
I've lighted a fire in Mrs. Mason's best bedroom and settled you there,
what do you think I am going to do? I shall drive to the town clerk's
house, and if he is in bed, rout him out and have the notice of our
intended marriage posted in a public place according to law. Perhaps
I shall save a day out of the fourteen I've got to wait for my wife.
'Mills,' indeed! I wonder at you, Waitstill! As if Mrs. Mason's house
was not far enough away, without your speaking of 'mills.'”
“I only suggested mills in case you did not want to marry me,” said
Waitstill.
“Walk up to the door with me,” begged Ivory.
“The horse is all harnessed, and Rod will slip him into the sleigh in a
jiffy.”
“Oh, Ivory! do you realize what this means?”--and Waitstill clung to his
arm as they went up the lane together--“that whatever sorrow, whatever
hardship comes to us, neither of us will ever have to bear it alone
again?”
“I believe I do realize it as few men could, for never in my
five-and-twenty years have I had a human creature to whom I could pour
myself out, in whom I could really confide, with whom I could take
counsel. You can guess what it will be to have a comprehending woman
at my side. Shall we tell my mother? Do say 'yes'; I believe she will
understand.--Rod, Rod! come and see who's stepping in the door this very
minute!”
Rodman was up in his bedroom, attiring himself elaborately for sentry
duty. His delight at seeing Waitstill was perhaps slightly tempered
by the thought that flashed at once through his mind,--that if she was
safe, he would not be required to stand guard in the snow for hours
as he had hoped. But this grief passed when he fully realized what
Waitstill's presence at the farm at this unaccustomed hour really
meant. After he had been told, he hung about her like the child that he
was,--though he had a bit of the hero in him, at bottom, too,--embracing
her waist fondly, and bristling with wondering questions.
“Is she really going to stay with us for always, Ivory?” he asked.
“Every day and all the days; every night and all the nights. 'Praise God
from whom all blessings flow!'” said Ivory, taking off his fur cap and
opening the door of the living-room. “But we've got to wait for her a
whole fortnight, Rod. Isn't that a ridiculous snail of a law?”
“Patty didn't wait a fortnight.”
“Patty never waited for anything,” Ivory responded with a smile; “but
she had a good reason, and, alas! we haven't, or they'll say that we
haven't. And I am very grateful to the same dear little Patty, for when
she got herself a husband she found me a wife!”
Rodman did not wholly understand this, but felt that there were many
mysteries attending the love affairs of grown-up people that were too
complicated for him to grasp; and it did not seem to be just the right
moment for questions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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