Another golden day! But the days would all be golden now, thought Hildegarde. "Oh, how different it is from yesterday!" she cried to Nurse Lucy as she danced about the kitchen. "The sun shone yesterday, but it did us no good. To-day it warms my heart, the good sunshine. And yesterday the trees seemed to mock me, with all their scarlet¹ and gold; but to-day they are dressed up to celebrate our good fortune. Let us call them in to rejoice with us, Nurse Lucy. Let us have a tree-party, instead of a tea-party!"  
"My dear," said Dame² Hartley, looking up with a puzzled smile, "what do you mean?"
 
"Oh! I don't mean to invite the whole forest to supper," said Hildegarde, laughing. "But you shall see, Nurse Lucy; you shall see. Just wait till this afternoon. I must run now over to Pink's, and tell her all the wonderful things that have happened, and see how poor Bubble is."
 
Away she went like a flash, through the golden fields, down the lane, where the maples⁴ made a flaming tent of scarlet over her head, bursting suddenly like a whirlwind into the little cottage, where the brother and sister, both now nearly helpless, sat waiting with pale and anxious faces. At sight of her Pink uttered a cry of delight, while Bubble flushed with pleasure; and both were about to pour out a flood of eager questions, when Hilda laid her hand over Pink's mouth and made a sign to the boy. "Two minutes to get my breath!" she cried, panting; "only two, and then you shall hear all." She spent the two minutes in filling the kettle and presenting Bubble with a pot of peach-marmalade that Dame Hartley had sent him; then, sitting down by the invalid's chair, she told from beginning to end the history of the past two days. The recital⁵ was thrilling enough, and before it was over the pale cheeks were crimson⁶, and the two pairs of blue eyes blazed with excitement.
 
"Oh!" cried Bubble, hopping⁷ up and down in his chair, regardless of the sprained⁸ ankle. "Oh, I say, Miss Hildy! I dunno what to say! Wouldn't he ha' liked it, though? My! 'twas jest like himself. Jes' exactly what he'd ha' done."
 
"What who would have done, Bubble?" asked Hilda, laughing.
 
"Why, him! Buckle-oh!" said the boy. "I was jest sayin' over the ballid when I saw ye comin'. Warn't it like him, Pink, say?"
 
But Pink drew the stately head down towards her, and kissed the glowing cheek, and whispered, "Queen Hildegarde! my queen!"
 
The tears started to Hilda's eyes as she returned the kiss; but she brushed them away, and rose hastily, announcing her intention of "setting things to rights" against Mrs. Chirk's return. "You poor dears!" she cried, "how did you manage yesterday? If I had only known, I would have come and got dinner for you."
 
"Oh! we got on very well indeed," replied Pink, laughing, "though there were one or two mishaps⁹. Fortunately there was plenty of bread in the cupboard, where we could easily reach it; and with that and the molasses jug¹⁰, we were in no danger of starvation. But Mother had left a custard-pie on the upper shelf, and poor Bubble wanted a piece of it for dinner. But neither of us cripples could get at it; and for a long time we could think of no plan which would make it possible. At last Bubble had a bright idea. You remember the big fork that Mother uses to take pies out of the oven? Well, he spliced¹¹ that on to the broom-handle, and then, standing¹² well back, so that he could see (on one foot, of course, for he couldn't put the other to the ground), he reached for the pie. It was a dreadful moment, Hilda! The pie slid easily on to the fork, and for a moment all seemed to promise well; but the next minute, just as Bubble began to lower it, he wavered on his one foot—only a little, but enough to send the poor pie tumbling to the ground."
 
"Poor pie!" cried Bubble. "Wal, I like that! Poor me, I sh'd say. I'd had bread'n m'lasses three meals runnin', Miss Hildy. Now don't you think that old pie might ha' come down straight?"
 
"You should have seen his face, poor dear!" cried Pink. "He really couldn't laugh—for almost two minutes."
 
"Wal, I s'pose 'twas kind o' funny," the boy admitted, while Hilda laughed merrily over the catastrophe¹³. "But thar! when one's used to standin' on two legs, it's dretful onhandy tryin' to stand on one. We'll have bread and jam to-day," he added, with an affectionate glance at the pot of marmalade, "and that's a good enough dinner for the Governor o' the State."
 
"Indeed, you shall have more than that!" cried Hildegarde. "Nurse Lucy does not need me before dinner, so I will get your dinner for you."
 
So the active girl made up the fire anew, swept the floor, dusted tables and chairs, and made the little room look tidy and cheerful, as Pink loved to see it. Then she ran down to the cellar, and reappeared with a basket of potatoes and a pan of rosy¹⁴ apples.
 
"Now we will perform a trio!" she said. "Pink, you shall peel and core the apples for apple-sauce, and Bubble shall pare the potatoes, while I make biscuit and gingerbread."
 
Accordingly, she rolled up her sleeves and set busily to work; the others followed her example, and fingers and tongues moved ceaselessly, in cheerful emulation¹⁵ of each other.
 
"I'd like to git hold o' Simon Hartley!" said Bubble, slicing vengefully at a big potato. "I wish't he was this tater, so I do! I'd skin him! Yah! ornery critter! An' him standin' thar an' grinnin' at me over the wall, an' I couldn't do nothin'! Seemed's though I sh'd fly, Miss Hildy, it did; an' then not to be able to crawl even! I sw—I tell ye, now, I didn't like that."
 
"Poor Bubble!" said Hilda, compassionately¹⁶, "I'm sure you didn't. And did he really start to crawl over to the farm, Pink?"
 
"Indeed he did!" replied Pink. "Nothing that I could say would keep him from trying it; so I bandaged his ankle as well as I could, and off he started. But he fainted twice before he got to the gate, so there was nothing for it but to crawl back again, and—have the knees of his trousers mended."
 
"Dear boy!" said Hilda, patting the curly head affectionately. "Good, faithful boy! I shall think a great deal more of it, Bubble, than if you had been able to walk all the way. And, after all," she added, "I am glad I had to do it myself,—go down to the mill, I mean. It is something to remember! I would not have missed it."
 
"No more wouldn't I!" cried Bubble, enthusiastically. "I'd ha' done it for ye twenty times, ye know that, Miss Hildy; but I druther ha' hed you do it;" and Hildegarde understood him perfectly¹⁸.
 
The simple meal prepared and set out, Hilda bade farewell to her two friends, and flitted back to the farm. Mrs. Chirk was to return in the evening, so she felt no further anxiety about them.
 
She found the farmer just returned from the village in high spirits. Squire¹⁹ Gaylord had examined the diamonds, pronounced them of great value, and had readily advanced the money to pay off the mortgage, taking two or three large stones as security. Lawyer Clinch²⁰ had reluctantly received his money, and relinquished²¹ all claim upon Hartley's Glen, though with a very bad grace.
 
"He kind o' insinuated²² that the di'monds had prob'ly ben stole by Father or me, he couldn't say which; and he said somethin' about inquirin' into the matter. But Squire Gaylord shut him up pooty quick, by sayin' thar was more things than that as might be inquired into, and if he began, others might go on; and Lawyer Clinch hadn't nothin' more to say after that."
 
When dinner was over, and everything "redded up," Hildegarde sent Dame Hartley upstairs to take a nap, and escorted the farmer as far as the barn on his way to the turnip-field. Then, "the coast being clear," she said to herself, "we will prepare for the tree-party."
 
Accordingly, arming herself with a stout²³ pruning-knife, she took her way to the "wood-lot," which lay on the north side of the house. The splendor²⁴ of the trees, which were now in full autumnal ............