From Jest to Earnest | Page 9

and spring."
He looked up quickly and gratefully, but only remarked, "It's a change
we all welcome."
"Not I, for one," said Mr. Harcourt. "Give me a clear, steady cold.
Thaws and spring are synonymous with the sloppy season or
sentimental stage."
"I, too, think steady cold is better in the season of it," remarked Mr.
Dimmerly, sententiously.
"But how about it out of season, uncle?" asked Lottie.
"Your hint, perhaps, is seasonable, Lottie," quietly remarked her aunt,
though with somewhat heightened color. "I trust we shall keep the
steady cold out of doors, and that ALL our guests will find only
summer warmth within."
"Really, auntie, you put me in quite a melting mood."
"No need of that, Lottie, for you are the month of June all the year
round," said her aunt.
"The month of April, rather," suggested Bel.
"I should say July or August," added Mr. Dimmerly, laughing.
"Would you not say November?" asked Lottie of Mr. Hemstead.
"Yes, I think so," he replied, with a blush, "for Thanksgiving comes in
that month."
There was a general laugh, and Mr. Dimmerly chuckled, "Very good,
you are getting even, Frank."

"I hardly understand your compliment, if it is one," said Lottie,
demurely. "Is it because you are so fond of sermons or dinners that
Thanksgiving glorifies the dreary month of November?"
"Neither a sermon nor a dinner is always a just cause for
Thanksgiving," he replied, with a pleasant light in his gray eyes.
"Then where is the force of your allusion?" she said, with a face
innocently blank.
"Well," replied he, hesitatingly, and blushing deeply, "perhaps my
thought was that you might be an occasion for Thanksgiving if both
sermon and dinner were wanting."
Again there was a general laugh, but his aunt said, "Frank, Frank, have
you learned to flatter?"
Lottie shot a quick glance of pleased surprise at him, and was much
amused at his evident confusion and flaming cheeks. To be sure his
words were part of the old complimentary tune that she knew by heart,
but his offering was like a flower that had upon it the morning dew.
She recognized his grateful effort to repay her for supposed kindness,
and saw that, though ill at ease in society, he was not a fool.
"Would it not be better to wait till in possession before keeping a
Thanksgiving?" said De Forrest, satirically.
"Not necessarily," retorted Hemstead, quickly, for the remark was like
the light touch of a spur. "I was grateful for the opportunity of seeing a
fine picture at Cleveland, on my way here, that I never expect to own."
Lottie smiled. The victim was not helpless. But she turned, and with a
spice of coquetry said, "Still I think you are right, Mr. De Forrest."
Then she noted that Mr. Hemstead's eyes were dancing with mirth at
her hint to one who was evidently anxious to keep "Thanksgiving" over
her any month in the year.
"I'm sure I am," remarked De Forrest. "I could never be satisfied to
admire at a distance. I could not join in a prayer I once heard, 'Lord, we
thank thee for this and all other worlds.'"
"Could you?" asked Lottie of Hemstead.
"Why not?"
"That is no answer."
Hemstead was growing more at ease, and when he only had to use his
brains was not half so much at a loss as when he must also manage his
hands and feet, and he replied laughingly: "Well, not to put too fine a

point upon it, this world is quite useful to me at present. I should be
sorry to have it vanish and find myself whirling in space, if I am a
rather large body. But as I am soon to get through with this world,
though never through with life, I may have a chance to enjoy a good
many other worlds--perhaps all of them--before eternity is over, and so
be grateful that they exist and are in waiting."
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Lottie. "What a traveller you propose to be.
I should be satisfied with a trip to Europe."
"To Paris, you mean," said Bel.
"Yes," replied Mr. Hemstead, "until the trip was over."
"Then I trust she will be content with New York," insinuated De
Forrest; "for Mr. Hemstead speaks as if the stars were created for his
especial benefit."
"You are enjoying some honey, Mr. De Forrest?" said Hemstead,
quietly.
"Yes."
"Did the flowers grow and the bees gather for your especial benefit?"
"I admit I'm answered."
"But," said sceptical Mr. Harcourt, "when you've got through with this
world how do you know but that you will drop off into space?"
"Come," said Addie, rising from the table, "I protest against a sermon
before Sunday."
They now returned to the parlor, Hemstead making the