May Brooke | Page 9

"Uncle Stillinghast!" thought May, while her little fluttering heart felt an icy chill pass over it; "what will Uncle Stillinghast think? Oh, how stupid I was, not to wait until they all got by, then look for the place myself. Oh dear, dear! I hope he did not see me."
"What will you have, ma'am?" asked the clerk, coming forward, more anxious to shut out the cold air from his comfortable snuggery than to effect sales.
"I wish to purchase a quarter of a cord of wood, sir."
"Oak, hickory, or pine, ma'am?"
"Oak, if you please."
"It is just now six and a half per cord," insinuated the clerk.
"Yes, sir; here is the money. Can you send the wood with me at once?"
"If you can wait until it is carted, ma'am, certainly," replied the young man, taking the half-eagle she offered him, and returning the change.
"I will wait, and you will oblige me by sending a sawyer also."
The young man went out to give the necessary orders, and in a little while a sawyer made his appearance at the door, and announced that "all was ready, if anyone would be after telling them where to go."
"You will follow this lady, Dennis," said the indefatigable clerk, pointing to May.
"Where to, ma'am?" inquired Dennis.
"To the north-western section of the city. I shall stop at one or two stores in Howard Street, but you can go on slowly, and I will overtake you." May then made a few inquiries of the young man ere she bade him good morning, and went away, glad to escape from a portion of the city where she was such an utter stranger, and whose intricate, narrow streets, filled her with apprehension. When they came to Howard Street, May stepped into a shoe-store, and purchased a pair of warm carpet-shoes, nicely wadded inside; then flitted out, and ran into a drygoods emporium, where she bought a cheap, but soft woolen shawl, of a brilliant scarlet yellow, and black palm-leaf pattern, and a pair of long yarn stockings; then gathering her bundles close together on her arm, she hurried away to overtake the wood. When the carter came to Biddle Street, he stopped his horse, and declared "he would not go a step further with such a small load unless she paid him something extra; he had come a mile already."
"You have not much further to go," plead May.
"I won't go another step," he said, with an oath.
"And I will not submit to extortion," said May, speaking gently, but firmly, while she fixed her calm, bright eyes on his. "I know the number of your cart, and informed myself at the office of the charges you are authorized to make, and if you do not proceed, I will complain of you."
Intimidated by her resolute manner, the baffled driver muttered and swore, while he applied the whip to his horse's flanks, and pursued the route indicated by May until they came to the very verge of the city limits, where grand old oaks still waved their broad limbs in primeval vigor over sloping hills and picturesque declivities. Near a rustic bridge, which spanned a frozen stream, stood a few scattered huts, or cottages, towards the poorest of which she directed her footsteps. Standing on one of the broken flags, which formed a rude sort of pathway to the door, she waited until the wood was emptied near by, and paying the man, requested the sawyer to commence sawing it forthwith; then lifting the latch softly, she entered the humble tenement. It contained one small room, poorly furnished, and with but few comforts. An old negro woman sat shivering over a few coals on the hearth, trying in vain to warm her half-frozen extremities.
"Why, Aunt Mabel, have you no fire?" said May, going close to her, and laying her hand on her shoulder.
"Oh, Miss May! Lord bless you, honey! You come in like a sperrit. No, indeed, honey; I ain't had none to speak on these two days."
"And your feet are almost frozen," said May, with a pitying glance.
"They's mighty cold, misses; but sit down, and let me look at you; it will warm me up," said the old woman, trying to smile.
"Let me put these on your poor old feet first," said May, kneeling down, and drawing off the tattered shoes from her feet, while she chafed them briskly with her hands; then slipped the soft warm stockings and slippers on them, ere the old creature could fully comprehend her object; then opening the shawl, she folded it about the bowed and shivering form. With a blended expression of gratitude and amazement, old Mabel looked at her feet, then at the shawl, then at May, who stood off enjoying it, and finally covered her face with her hand, and wept outright.
"Now, indeed, Aunt Mabel,