The middle portion served for dining-room. In it were the family table of hard pine, the wooden chairs, and Mrs. Blossom's grandmother's tall pine dresser.
At the kitchen end, next the woodshed, were the sink, the stove, the kitchen shelves for pots and pans, and the kitchen table with its bread-trough and pie-board, all of which Rose kept scoured white with soap and sand.
This living-room, sitting-room, dining-room, and kitchen in one had six windows facing south and east. Every window had brackets for plants; for this evening Rose had turned the blossom-side inwards to the room, and the walls glowed and gleamed with the velvety crimson of gloxinias, the red of fuchsias, the pink and white and scarlet of geraniums, the cream of wax-plant and begonia. Upon all this radiance of color, the lamplight shone and the fire flashed its crimson shadows. The kettle sang on the stove, and the delicious odor of baked potatoes came from the open oven.
"Why, March!" said the Doctor, coming down from the spare room at the call for supper, "waiting for an introduction? I did n't know you stood on ceremony in this fashion. Allow me," he said with mock gravity to Hazel, and presented March in due form.
Hazel greeted him exactly as she would have greeted a new boy at dancing-school. "Little Miss Finicky," was March's scornful thought of her, as he bowed rather awkwardly and thrust his hands into his pockets, racking his brains for something to say.
"What a handsome boy! As handsome as Jack," was Hazel's first impression; then, missing the cordiality with which the other members of the family had welcomed her, she said in thought, "I 'm sure he does not want me here by the way he acts; I think he 's horrid."
Doctor Heath sat down by Hazel. "I 'm not going to let you sit down to tea with all these mischiefs, little girl, not to-night, for you can't eat baked potatoes and the other good things after that long journey, so I 'll ask Rose to give you a bite right here on the settle."
"I 'll speak to Rose," said March, glad to get away.
"Thank you," said the Doctor, looking after him with a puzzled expression in his keen eyes. Just then Mr. Blossom and Chi came in, and the whole family sat down at the table.
"Why, where 's Cherry?" exclaimed the Doctor.
"Budd, where 's Cherry?" said his father.
"I promised her I would n't tell where she hides till she was twelve, an' now she 's ten, an' she 's been so mean about Haz--
"Budd," said his father, sternly, "answer me directly."
"She 's under the pantry shelf behind the meal-chest," said Budd, meekly.
There was a shout of laughter that caused Cherry to crawl out pretty quickly and open the pantry door,--for it was hard to hear the fun and not be in it.
"Come, Cherry," said her mother, still laughing, and Cherry slipped into her seat beside Doctor Heath with a murmured, "How do you do?" and her face bent so low over her plate that nothing was visible to Hazel but a round head running over with tight red curls that bobbed and trembled in a peculiarly funny way.
"Well, Cherry," said the Doctor, trying to speak gravely, with only the red tip of a nose in view, "you seem to be rather low in your mind. I shall have to prescribe for you. Chi, suppose you drive me down to the Settlement to-morrow morning, and on the way to the train I will send up a cure-all for low spirits. I 've something for March, too. I think he needs it." He drew his eyebrows together over the bridge of his nose and cast a sharp glance at the boy, who felt the doctor had read him.
"That means you 've got something for us," said Budd, bluntly.
"Guess Budd's hit the nail on the head this time," said Chi. "Should n't wonder if 't was some pretty lively stuff."
"You 're right there, Chi," replied the Doctor, laughing. "There 's plenty of good strong bark in it--"
Thereupon there was a shout of joy from Budd which brought Cherry's head into position at once.
"I know, I know, it's a St. Bernard puppy!"
"Oh--ee," squealed Cherry, in her delight, and forthwith put her arm through the Doctor's and squeezed it hard against her ribs.
"Guess there's a good deal of crow-foot in the other, ain't there?" said Chi, with a wink at March, who deliberately left his seat after saying, "Excuse me" most gravely to his mother, and turned a somersault in the kitchen end just to relieve his feelings. Then, with his hands in his pockets, he went up to Doctor Heath, his usually clear, pale face flushing with excitement.
"Do you mean, Doctor Heath, you 're going to give me a full-blooded Wyandotte cock?" he demanded.
"That is just what I mean, March," replied the Doctor, with great gravity, "and twelve full-blooded wives are at this moment looking in vain for a roost beside their lord and master in the express office down at Barton's River."
"Oh, glory!" cried March, wringing the Doctor's hand with both his, and then going off to execute another somersault. "You 've done it now!"
"Done what, March?" asked Doctor Heath, really touched by the boy's grateful enthusiasm.
"Made my fortune," he replied, dropping into his seat again, breathless with excitement; and to the Doctor's amazement he saw tears, actual tears, gather in the boy's eyes, before he looked down in his plate and busied himself with his baked potato.
Hazel saw them too. "What a strange boy," she thought, "and how different this is from eating my dinner all alone!" Then she slipped up to the Doctor's side with her small tray containing nothing but empty dishes, for the keen air and the sight of so many others eating and enjoying themselves had given her a good appetite.
"Are you satisfied with me now?" she said, presenting her tray.
"I should think so," he exclaimed. "Two glasses of milk, two slices of toasted brown bread, one piece of sponge cake, and a baked apple with cream! I 've gone out of business with you; my last 'tonic' is going to work well,--don't you think so?"
"I 'm sure it is," she said quietly, but there was such a depth of meaning in the sweet voice and the few words that the Doctor threw his arm around her as they rose from the table, and kept her beside him until bedtime.
At nine o'clock, Mrs. Blossom helped her to undress, and then, saying she would come back soon, left her alone in the little bedroom off the kitchen.
Hazel looked about her in amazement. This was her little room! A small single bed, looking like a snow drift, so white and feathery and high was it; one window curtained with a square of starched white cotton cloth that drew over the panes by means of a white cord on which it was run at the top; a tiny wash-stand with an old-fashioned bowl and pitcher of green and white stone-ware, and over it an old-fashioned gilt mirror; a small splint-bottomed chair and large braided rug of red woollen rags. That was all, except in one corner, where some cleats had been nailed to the ceiling and a clothes-press made by hanging from them full curtains of white cloth.
For the first time in her life, Hazel unpacked her own travelling-bag and took out the silver toilet articles with the pretty monogram. But where should she put them? No bureau, no dressing-case, no bath-room!--For a few minutes Hazel felt bewildered, then, laughing, she put them back again into her bag, and, leaving her candle in the tin candlestick on the wash-stand, she gave one leap into the middle of the high feather-bed.
Just then Mrs. Blossom returned from saying good-night to her own children. She tucked Hazel in snugly, and to the young girl's surprise, knelt by the bed saying, "Let us repeat the Lord's Prayer together, dear;" and together they said it, Hazel fearing almost the sound of her own voice. When they had finished, Mary Blossom, still kneeling, asked that Father to bless the coming of this one of His little ones into their home, and asked it in such a loving, trustful way, that Hazel's arm stole out from the coverlet and around Mrs. Blossom's neck; her head, soft and silky as a new-born baby's, cuddled to her shoulder: and when Mrs. Blossom kissed her good-night, she said suddenly, but half-timidly, "Do you say this with Rose every night?"