A Mischief in the Snow - By Margaret Miles Page 0,23
the village records kept there. Lawyers, you know, take pleasure in poking into the past. And since this was my early home, I have decided to follow the example of our lieutenant governor, and write a small history—as he has so admirably done for the whole of Massachusetts. I'm sure my work will never be as fine, but it could be useful one day. And, I have time on my hands, since that same gentleman balks at re-opening Boston's courts.”
“How well I remember the day you left us, sir!” said Hannah, returning from the front room. “We were nearly young together,” she added with a silly smile.
“Yet most would swear, Mrs. Sloan, that you are no older than my daughter,” the lawyer countered, “if, indeed, I had one.”
Charlotte now smiled as well, noticing that Hannah's apron was straighter than it had been, and her hair tidier.
“Someone with bats’ eyes might be fooled,” Hannah returned. “I am a few years older than you, sir, I'll admit.” Following Charlotte's example, she lowered her substantial body onto a chair. “We were sorry when you left us to read the law; my husband and I have followed your successes lately in the Gazette. But do you recall one winter day twenty years ago, when you and Samuel went out into the west hills together, and came back with a bear? Didn't we grow heartily sick of it, long before the fat ran out!”
“We did. We've faced lean years together, it's true. But I've also heard your good husband has since prospered— and, that more than the family purse has grown!”
“I have seven children now, including unmarried daughters. I take it, sir, that you have not yet married?”
“That is so. Might I come and meet the family a little later, Mrs. Sloan?”
“You would be most welcome! But you once called me Hannah.”
“Then Hannah it shall be again.”
“And I must see to the baking,” Hannah reminded herself, rising. “Or would you like me to leave you here?” she asked Charlotte.
“I'd better take Mr. Reed to my study, where there's sunlight.”
With the matter settled, Charlotte and Moses Reed spent the next hour warming the blue room with a fire, while examining his papers. These concerned a profit lately realized from the sale of land, a portion of which, Aaron's family had decided, must go to his widow. Since they continued a warm correspondence, Charlotte had been pleased but hardly surprised by their generosity.
“Now,” she said, after he'd explained everything to her satisfaction, and she had signed the necessary papers, “have you seen what goes on in the village today?”
“Yes, on my way here…”
“Would you consider walking back with me, by way of Mr. Longfellow's ice pond?”
“I should like that!”
“If you'll enjoy our fire here a little longer, I'll see if the baking is done.”
Moses Reed got up to examine shelves full of volumes while Charlotte left the study. She passed through the front room, then re-entered the kitchen.
“I could hardly restrain myself,” Hannah confessed moments later, “after I'd mentioned that bear! I'm sure I thought of it after taking a good look at the stuff all over his face. Why ever did he grow such a thing, do you suppose?”
“I asked him that question myself.”
“You didn't!”
“Oh, I did.” Charlotte's eyes were bright with amusement. “After all, he sat there stroking it as if he wanted to explain.”
“He answered you, then?”
“He told me it's considered impressive by the juries he addresses, and he's found it a help when he attempts to worry witnesses. He also told me that while few have yet emulated him in Boston, he hopes to set a new style, to save importing razors.”
“Politics,” Hannah intoned darkly.
“I wonder if I should ask Richard if he'd consider joining Mr. Reed in a more natural state… to disappoint London's merchants?”
“Far too natural, if you ask me! Would it be any different, I wonder, from kissing a puppy?” Hannah covered a basket by now filled with rolls, each well drizzled with sugar frosting. “Here, take these off while they're hot. And tell my children, if you see any of them still out, they should be home doing their chores!”
“Of course,” Charlotte said, planning to do no such thing. “Oh—I nearly forgot the spoon!” She took up the shining object, and nestled it gently in a corner of the basket. Then, she went back to fetch Moses Reed.
Chapter 8
QUITE A GATHERING!” the lawyer exclaimed as they left the main road and walked onto a white expanse of field, along