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Thankful Blossom
by
Mistress Thankful was in her sitting-room when he knocked at her door. She opened it in sudden, conscious trepidation.
“I ask pardon for intruding, Mistress Thankful Blossom,” he said gravely; “but I have here”–he held out a pretentious document–“a letter for you from headquarters. May I hope that it contains good news,–the release of your father.–and that it relieves you from my presence, and an espionage which I assure you cannot be more unpleasant to you than it has been to myself.”
As he entered the room, Thankful had risen to her feet with the full intention of delivering to him her little set apology; but, as he ended his speech, she looked at him blankly, and burst out crying.
Of course he was in an instant at her side, and holding her cold little hand. Then she managed to say, between her tears, that she had been wanting to make an apology to him; that she had wanted to say ever since she arrived that she had been rude, very rude, and that she knew he never could forgive her; that she had been trying to say that she never could forget his gentle forbearance: “only,” she added, suddenly raising her tear-fringed brown lids to the astonished man, “YOU WOULDN’T EVER LET ME!”
“Dear Mistress Thankful,” said the major, in conscience-stricken horror, “if I have made myself distant to you, believe me it was only because I feared to intrude upon your sorrow. I really–dear Mistress Thankful–I–“
“When you took all the pains to go round the hall instead of through the dining-room, lest I should ask you to forgive me,” sobbed Mistress Thankful, “I thought–you–must–hate me, and preferred to–“
“Perhaps this letter may mitigate your sorrow, Mistress Thankful,” said the officer, pointing to the letter she still held unconsciously in her hand.
With a blush at her pre-occupation, Thankful opened the letter. It was a half-official document, and ran as follows:
“The Commander-in-Chief is glad to inform Mistress Thankful Blossom that the charges preferred against her father have, upon fair examination, been found groundless and trivial. The Commander-in-Chief further begs to inform Mistress Blossom that the gentleman known to her under the name of the ‘Baron Pomposo’ was his Excellency Don Juan Morales, Ambassador and Envoy Extraordinary of the Court of Spain, and that the gentleman known to her as the ‘Count Ferdinand’ was Senor Godoy, Secretary to the Embassy. The Commander-in-Chief wishes to add that Mistress Thankful Blossom is relieved of any further obligation of hospitality toward these honorable gentlemen, as the Commander-in-Chief regrets to record the sudden and deeply-to-be-deplored death of his Excellency this morning by typhoid fever, and the possible speedy return of the Embassy.
“In conclusion, the Commander-in-Chief wishes to bear testimony to the Truthfulness, Intuition, and Discretion of Mistress Thankful Blossom.
“By order of his Excellency,
“Gen. GEORGE WASHINGTON.
“ALEX. HAMILTON, Secretary.
“To Mistress THANKFUL BLOSSOM, of Blossom Farm.”
Thankful Blossom was silent for a few moments, and then raised her abashed eyes to Major Van Zandt. A single glance satisfied her that he knew nothing of the imposture that had been practised upon her,–knew nothing of the trap into which her vanity and self-will had led her.
“Dear Mistress Thankful,” said the major, seeing the distress in her face, “I trust the news is not ill. Surely I gathered from the sergeant that–“
“What?” said Thankful, looking at him intently.
“That in twenty-four hours at furthest your father would be free, and that I should be relieved–“
“I know that you are a-weary of your task, major,” said Thankful bitterly: “rejoice, then, to know your information is correct, and that my father is exonerated–unless–unless this is a forgery, and Gen. Washington should turn out to be somebody else, and YOU should turn out to be somebody else–” And she stopped short, and hid her wet eyes in the window-curtains.
“Poor girl!” said Major Van Zandt to himself. “This trouble has undoubtedly frenzied her. Fool that I was to lay up the insult of one that sorrow and excitement had bereft of reason and responsibility! ‘Twere better I should retire at once, and leave her to herself,” and the young man slowly retreated toward the door.