CHAPTER XI
IN BOSTON
Mr. Freeman looked a little puzzled when he heard the girls calling Mrs.Pierce "Aunt Anne Rose," and when Mrs. Pierce told him that was reallyher name he thought, as the girls had, that it was almost likediscovering a relative. Mr. Pierce had insisted that they should borrowthe black colt for the remainder of their journey, and they were readyto start at an early hour the next morning.
Rose was tying the ribbons to her pretty hat, while Anne watched her alittle wistfully, wishing that she had a hat--almost any kind of a hat,she thought--so that she might not look like "a little wild girl," asshe had overheard some one call her at the Sandwich tavern. Just thenshe felt something placed gently on her head and saw two broad brownribbons falling each side of her face.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking up in wonder.
Mrs. Pierce stood beside her. "There!" she exclaimed. "What kind of amilliner do you think I should make for the fine ladies in Boston?" andshe lifted the hat from Anne's head, holding it up for the girls to see.
It was a round flat hat, plaited of straw. It had no trimming save apretty bow and strings of brown ribbon, but Anne thought it was abeautiful hat.
"It's one I plaited last year," continued Mrs. Pierce, putting the hatback on Anne's head, and tying the brown ribbon under her chin. "I didit evenings, just to keep busy. I do wish I had a prettier ribbon forit."
"Is it for me?" asked Anne, almost afraid that it was almost too muchgood fortune to expect.
"Of course it is. 'Twill serve to remind you of your Aunt Anne," and thefriendly woman smiled down at Anne's happy face.
"We will write you a letter, Aunt Anne Rose," said Rose, as they walkeddown the path to where the chaise awaited them, "and you will come andvisit my mother in Boston, will you not?"
"Mr. Pierce has already promised that they will both come," said Mr.Freeman.
"And, Anne," and Mrs. Pierce patted the little hand she was holding soclosely, "you tell your father that you have found another aunt, andthat he must let you come and stay with me for a long long visit."
Then good-byes were said, and they were again started on their journey.
"No stops this time--except to ask for news of Lady--until I reach myown house," declared Mr. Freeman. "'Tis a good cool morning and we oughtto get home by midday."
"Perhaps we shall find Lady," suggested Rose. But Mr. Freeman shook hishead.
"I'm afraid it will be a long time before we get any news of her," hesaid soberly. "I only hope the thief will not abuse her." The brownhorse had always been petted and made much of, and neither Mr. Freemannor Rose could bear to think of her in the hands of people who would notbe kind to her.
Every now and then Anne would take off the plaited straw hat and look atit with admiring eyes. "I shall not have to buy a hat now, Rose," shesaid.
"But you will want a prettier one than that," responded her friend.
"A prettier hat!" Anne's tone seemed to say that she could not imaginea prettier hat, and she shook her head. "I sha'n't ever want any otherhat," she declared. "I mean to keep this always because Aunt Anne Rosegave it to me."
The black colt sped along as if it was nothing but play to pull the bigchaise. The girls told Mr. Freeman of all that Aunt Anne Rose had saidabout the big farm, and of her own loneliness when her husband and sonswere away. Rose noticed that, although her father listened, his glancetraveled sharply over the pastures as they went along; and that now andthen he leaned out for a clearer view of some horse feeding near theroad, and she realized that he was keeping an outlook for Lady.
But there was no sign of the pretty brown horse, and Mr. Freeman'sinquiries at houses and in villages along the way did not give him anynews of Lady. There was so much for Anne to see and think about that shehardly realized what a serious loss had befallen her good friends. Butas they drove down Long-acre Street, past Boston Common, and turned intothe street where the Freemans' house stood, she saw that Rose and Mr.Freeman both looked very downcast.
"What will mother say?" Rose half whispered, as if to herself.
Mrs. Freeman was at the door to welcome them.
"And here is our little maid from Province Town," she said, putting herarm about Anne. "You are indeed welcome, dear child; and it is a finetime for a little girl to visit Boston."
Mr. Freeman had expected his wife to ask what had become of Lady, andwas surprised that she did not. He led the colt toward the stable, whichstood in a paved yard back of the house, and Frederick ran ahead to openthe stable door.
"Upon my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Freeman, for there in her own comfortablestall was Lady, munching her noonday meal as if everything was just asusual.
"The man got here last night with Lady," explained Frederick; "he was ina great hurry to get a boat, and he told me--for mother was at aneighbor's--that you'd be coming on to-day. Was he taking a message toAmerican troops? Mother said that must be his business; that you'd lendLady for no other reason," and the boy looked at his fatherquestioningly.
"I hope that may have been his errand," said Mr. Freeman, "but I fearhe was on other business. The Tories are more anxious than Americans forboats just now," and he told the boy how Lady had been stolen. "But whoever it was must have known me and where I live," he concluded; "'tisnot every thief who leaves the horse in its owner's stable."
"But your name is on the little brass plate on Lady's bridle," Frederickreminded him, "so 'twould be easy if the man were honest."
Mr. Freeman cautioned them not to tell any one but Rose's mother oftheir discovery of the shingled house in the woods where Bill Mains hadthe hidden stores.
"No one knows just whom to trust these days," he said, "and if such newswas known to those who sympathize with the English they'd soon be afterhis guns and powder."
"I think we will have a sewing-bee," Mrs. Freeman said, when Rose hadtold her the story of Anne's flight from Province Town, and that thelittle girl had no clothing, but had two golden guineas to spend. "Youand Anne will have to be busy with your needles for a part of each dayuntil she has proper clothes. And early to-morrow morning we will walkup to Mistress Mason's shop on Cornhill and get her some shoes."
The little room that opened from Rose's chamber had a broad window whichlooked toward the harbor. There were white curtains at this window, tiedback with crocheted bands of white cotton. The floor was painted a softgrayish brown, and there were strips of rag carpet spread beside thewhite covered bed, and in front of the mahogany bureau. There was alooking-glass hung over this bureau. By standing on tiptoe Anne couldsee herself in it. In one corner of the room was a wash-stand with ablue china bowl and pitcher. Near the window was a low table and arocking-chair.
It was a very neat and pleasant room, and to Anne it seemed beautiful.That it opened directly into the big square chamber where Rose sleptmade her feel very much at home. She wished that Aunt Martha Stoddardcould see it, and she went to the window and looked off across the bluewaters of the harbor wishing that she could see Aunt Martha and tell herall the wonderful things that had befallen her.
It was decided that Anne was to have a pair of slippers with strapsfastening around the in-step and a pair of shoes for every-day wear.Mrs. Freeman had a good store of white stockings which Rose had outgrownand from these a number were selected for Anne. When she was dressedready to go to the shops with Mrs. Freeman and Rose the latterexclaimed:
"Mother, mayn't I open the parlor shutters so that Anne can see herselfin the long mirror?"
"Why, yes; but be very careful to close them that the sun may not strikeon the carpet," replied Mrs. Freeman, a little reluctantly; for theFreemans' parlor was a very grand room and opened only when company wasasked to tea, or when some distinguished person came to call.
Rose turned the brass knob, pushed open the white-paneled door andtiptoed into the shadowy room. "Come in, Anne!" she called, and Annefollowed. She had not seen this room when she had visited the Freemanswith Uncle Enos two years before.
"Oh!" she exclai
med, half fearfully, as her feet sank into the softcarpet. Then she stood quite still until Rose had opened the paneledinside shutters at one of the large windows. She looked about her inwonder. Directly opposite the door was a fireplace with a high whitemantel and over the mantel was the portrait of a very old lady whoseemed to be smiling straight at Anne.
"Come in," Rose repeated, with a little laugh of pleasure at Anne'sevident admiration, and she led her little visitor toward the front ofthe room where a long mirror, from ceiling to floor, was fastenedagainst the wall between the two windows. "Look at yourself, Anne. Youcan see the room afterward," she said, and Anne looked into the mirrorand smiled, for she saw a little dark-eyed girl with smoothly braidedhair, wearing a hat of plaited straw with a brown ribbon, and a dress ofbrown linen with a pretty frill at the neck. She looked down admiringlyat her white stockings and new shoes, and then twisted her head in thehope of seeing the back of this neat little girl. She quite forgot thesoft carpet, and the shining tables and cushioned chairs.
"I do wish Amanda could see me," she said; "she'd be real glad I hadthese fine things."