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Page 22
Hildegarde sprang to her feet, whirled to the east, with her hands
clasped in entreaty; turned to the west, holding out her arms with
a gesture of intense longing; turned to the south,--and saw a
stranger standing and gazing at her with a look of intense
amusement.
For once Hildegarde thought that her wits were gone; she stood
still, her arms dropped to her side, and she returned the
stranger's gaze with a look of such simple, absolute dismay that
he could hardly keep his countenance. Hastily advancing, he lifted
his hat. "Miss Grahame," he said, "I beg your pardon for breaking
in in this way. My sister--I am Roger Merryweather, I ought to say
first--Bell wanted to know at what time she should come over, and
as none of the boys were at hand, I ventured to come over with the
message."
His eyes,--they were kind eyes, as Hildegarde noticed in her
distress,--his eyes seemed to say, "I wish you would not mind me
in the least, my child! Have I not sisters of my own, and don't I
know all about Sally Waters?" It almost seemed as if the words
were spoken, and Hildegarde recovered her composure, and came
forward, with a burning blush, it is true, but holding out her
hand with her own sweet cordiality.
"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Merryweather. You are very good
not to laugh at poor Sally's distresses. Tell Bell that the
children are all here, and the sooner she comes the better. But--
will you not come in, Mr. Merryweather? My mother will be
delighted to see you. We have heard so much of you from all the
children."
Roger Merryweather excused himself on the ground of letters that
must be written, but promised himself the pleasure of an early
call; and so, with another kind, sensible look, and a smile and a
friendly word to the children, he withdrew, and Hildegarde saw him
leap lightly over the fence,--a tall, well-knit figure, springy
and light as Gerald's own.
The girl drew a long breath of dismay, but it quavered, and
finally ended in a hearty laugh.
"And how PERFECTLY he behaved!" she said aloud. "If one had to
make a spectacle of one's self,--and apparently it is to be my
fate through life,--surely no one could choose a kinder looking
spectator."
Here she became aware of the children, standing at gaze, and
evidently waiting for her next word.
"Why, what am I thinking about?" she cried, merrily. "Do you think
we have had enough of 'Sally,' children? I--I think perhaps I
have. And what shall we play next? I fear it is too hot still for
'I Spy;' we must keep that till after tea. What are you saying,
Martha? Speak out, dear, and don't be afraid to say just what you
would like best. This is your own party, you see, and it is to be
the kind of party you all think pleasantest."
Martha murmured inaudibly several times, but spurred by digs in
the ribs with several pairs of sharp elbows, finally spoke aloud
with a sudden yelp. "Oh, PLEASE!--Susan Aurora Bulger, I'll go
right and tell your mother this minute!--please, 'The Highland
Gates to Die.'"
"What?" asked Hildegarde, in amazement. "Say it again, Martha,
please. The Highland--what?"
"Gates to Die!" said Martha Skeat, and all the children took up
the chorus. "'The Highland Gates to Die,' please, Teacher!"
Hildegarde repeated the words to herself, but no light came. "I
don't understand," she said. "You will have to show me how to
play, for I never heard of the game. Highland Gates--well, I shall
learn it quickly, I hope. Euleta, will you take the lead?"
Euleta, a sheep-faced child, with six whitey-brown pigtails,
motioned to the others, who at once joined hands in a circle. Then
she began to pace slowly round the circle, and all the children
broke out into a wild chant:
"Go round and round the level,
Go round and round the level,
Go round and round the level,
The Highland Gates to die."
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