Thankful Blossom | Page 7

below to the curves that were lost in her shapely ankles, or the
little feet that hid themselves in the broad-buckled shoes, you knew that
the rest was as genuine and beautiful.
Mistress Thankful, after a pause, opened the door, and listened. Then
she softly slipped down the back staircase to the front hall. It was dark;
but the door of the "company-room," or parlor, was faintly indicated by
the light that streamed beneath it. She stood still for a moment
hesitatingly, when suddenly a hand grasped her own, and half led, half
dragged her, into the sitting-room opposite. It was dark. There was a

momentary fumbling for the tinder-box and flint, a muttered oath over
one or two impeding articles of furniture, and Thankful laughed. And
then the light was lit; and her father, a gray wrinkled man of sixty, still
holding her hand, stood before her.
"You have been out, mistress!"
"I have," said Thankful.
"And not alone," growled the old man angrily.
"No," said Mistress Thankful, with a smile that began in the corners of
her brown eyes, ran down into the dimpled curves of her mouth, and
finally ended in the sudden revelation of her white teeth,--"no, not
alone."
"With whom?" asked the old man, gradually weakening under her
strong, saucy presence.
"Well, father," said Thankful, taking a seat on a table, and swinging her
little feet somewhat ostentatiously toward him, "I was with Capt. Allan
Brewster of the Connecticut Contingent."
"That man?"
"That man!"
"I forbid you seeing him again."
Thankful gripped the table with a hand on each side of her, to
emphasize the statement, and swinging her feet replied,--
"I shall see him as often as I like, father."
"Thankful Blossom!"
"Abner Blossom!"
"I see you know not," said Mr. Blossom, abandoning the severely

paternal mandatory air for one of confidential disclosure, "I see you
know not his reputation. He is accused of inciting his regiment to
revolt,--of being a traitor to the cause."
"And since when, Abner Blossom, have YOU felt such concern for the
cause? Since you refused to sell supplies to the Continental commissary,
except at double profits? since you told me you were glad I had not
polities like Mistress Ford--"
"Hush!" said the father, motioning to the parlor.
"Hush," echoed Thankful indignantly. "I won't be hushed! Everybody
says 'Hush' to me. The count says 'Hush!' Allan says 'Hush!' You say
'Hush!' I'm a-weary of this hushing. Ah, if there was a man who didn't
say it to me!" and Mistress Thankful lifted her fine eyes to the ceiling.
"You are unwise, Thankful,--foolish, indiscreet. That is why you
require much monition."
Thankful swung her feet in silence for a few moments, then suddenly
leaped from the table, and, seizing the old man by the lapels of his coat,
fixed her eyes upon him, and said suspiciously. "Why did you keep me
from going in the company-room? Why did you bring me in here?"
Blossom senior was staggered for a moment. "Because, you know, the
count--"
"And you were afraid the count should know I had a sweetheart? Well,
I'll go in and tell him now," she said, marching toward the door.
"Then, why did you not tell him when you slipped out an hour ago? eh,
lass?" queried the old man, grasping her hand. "But 'tis all one,
Thankful: 'twas not for him I stopped you. There is a young spark with
him,--ay, came even as you left, lass,--a likely young gallant; and he
and the count are jabbering away in their own lingo, a kind of Italian,
belike; eh, Thankful?"
"I know not," she said thoughtfully. "Which way came the other?" In

fact, a fear that this young stranger might have witnessed the captain's
embrace began to creep over her.
"From town, my lass."
Thankful turned to her father as if she had been waiting a reply to a
long-asked question: "Well?"
"Were it not well to put on a few furbelows and a tucker?" queried the
old man. "'Tis a gallant young spark; none of your country folk."
"No," said Thankful, with the promptness of a woman who was looking
her best, and knew it. And the old man, looking at her, accepted her
judgment, and without another word led her to the parlor door, and,
opening it, said briefly, "My daughter, Mistress Thankful Blossom."
With the opening of the door came the sound of earnest voices that
instantly ceased upon the appearance of Mistress Thankful. Two
gentlemen lolling before the fire arose instantly, and one came forward
with an air of familiar yet respectful recognition.
"Nay, this is far too great happiness, Mistress Thankful," he said, with a
strongly marked foreign accent, and a still more strongly marked
foreign manner. "I have been in despair, and my friend here,