"Don't whip him," whispered Miss Burroughs; "it always makes him more stubborn. How glad I am I thought of the bells! The only way to get him to go is to mollify him.""But how is that to be done?" I asked anxiously.
"You must give him sugar and pat his neck. If I had some sugar and could get out--""But you haven't it, and you can't git out," said Uncle Beamish. "Try him again doctor!"I jerked the reins impatiently. "Go along!" said I. But he did not go along.
"Haven't you got somethin' in your medicine-case you could mollify him with?" said Uncle Beamish. "Somethin' sweet that he might like?"For an instant I caught at this absurd suggestion, and my mind ran over the contents of my little bottles. If I had known his character, some sodium bromide in his morning feed might, by this time, have mollified his obstinacy.
"If I could be free of this blanket," said I, fumbling at the pin behind me, "I would get out and lead him into the road.""You could not do it," said Miss Burroughs. "You might pull his head off, but he wouldn't move. I have seen him tried."At this moment a window-sash in the second story of the house was raised, and there, not thirty feet from us, stood an elderly female, wrapped in a gray shawl, with piercing eyes shining through great spectacles.
"You seem to be stuck," said she, sarcastically. "You are worse stuck than the fork was in my kitchen table."We made no answer. I do not know how Miss Burroughs looked or felt, or what was the appearance of Uncle Beamish, but I know I must have been very red in the face. I gave the horse a powerful crack and shouted to him to go on. There was no need for low speaking now.
"You needn't be cruel to dumb animals," said the old lady, "and you can't budge him. He never did like snow, especially in going away from home. You cut a powerful queer figure, young man, with that horse-blanket around you. You don't look much like a practising physician.""Miss Burroughs," I exclaimed, "please take that pin out of this blanket. If I can get at his head I know I can pull him around and make him go."But she did not seem to hear me. "Aunty," she cried, "it's a shame to stand there and make fun of us. We have got a perfect right to go away if we want to, and we ought not to be laughed at."The old lady paid no attention to this remark.
"And there's that false doctor," she said. "I wonder how he feels just now.""False doctor!" exclaimed Miss Burroughs. "I don't understand.""Young lady," said Uncle Beamish, "I'm no false doctor. Iintended to tell you all about it as soon as I got a chance, but I haven't had one. And, old lady, I'd like you to know that Idon't say I'm a doctor, but I do say I'm a nuss, and a good nuss, and you can't deny it."To this challenge the figure at the window made no answer.
"Catherine," said she, "I can't stand here and take cold, but I just want to know one thing: Have you positively made up your mind to marry that young doctor in the horse-blanket?"This question fell like a bomb-shell into the middle of the stationary sleigh.
I had never asked Kitty to marry me. I loved her with all my heart and soul, and I hoped, almost believed, that she loved me.
It had been my intention, when we should be left together in the sleigh this morning, after dropping Uncle Beamish at his sister's house, to ask her to marry me.
The old woman's question pierced me as if it had been a flash of lightning coming through the frosty air of a winter morning.
I dropped the useless reins and turned. Kitty's face was ablaze.
She made a movement as if she was about to jump out of the sleigh and flee.
"Oh, Kitty!" said I, bending down toward her, "tell her yes!
I beg I entreat, I implore you to tell her yes! Oh, Kitty! if you don't say yes I shall never know another happy day."For one moment Kitty looked up into my face, and then said she:
"It is my positive intention to marry him!"
With the agility of a youth, Uncle Beamish threw the robe from him and sprang out into the deep snow. Then, turning toward us, he took off his hat.
"By George!" said he, "you're a pair of trumps. I never did see any human bein's step up to the mark more prompt. Madam," he cried, addressing the old lady, "you ought to be the proudest woman in this county at seein' such a thing as this happen under your window of a Christmas mornin'. And now the best thing that you can do is to invite us all in to have breakfast.""You'll have to come in," said she, "or else stay out there and freeze to death, for that horse isn't going to take you away.
