Dorothy's Travels Part 13

"This is Monty's mother, I'm sure. I am Molly's Auntie Lu. We exist I fancy, for our respective youngsters and mine discovered you through the doorway of the dining-room and commissioned me to fetch you. We've had seats reserved for you at our table in the corner and I apologize for not hunting you up earlier. The truth is we were out driving until the last moment and were greatly hurried ourselves. So, of course, we were none of us here when the train came in and I did not know you had arrived. Shall we go now? You will find that people grow desperately hungry when they first come into this bracing air, and with the best intentions in the world, the proprietor isn't always able to provide enough for such clamorous appet.i.tes. My brother says that explains the rather rude crowding to get 'first table,' and that our remedy lies in doing a bit of crowding ourselves. I rather enjoy it, already, though we only came here yesterday. Did you have a pleasant trip?"

"No, I did not. I was never on such a poor steamer before. Fortunately I wasn't ill and it's not a long sail from Boston across. Is it really true, as Montmorency tells me, that there is no better hotel than this?"

returned the other, rising to follow Auntie Lu.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "h.e.l.lO SNACKENBERG! HERE AM I! GIVE ME A RIDE?"

_Dorothy's Travels._]

Since Monty had said that he was hungry, of course, she would stay for that one meal and let him get comfortable. Afterward--she would follow her own judgment.

But she, also, was gently bred and born, and despite a lack of plain common sense was an agreeable person in the main. She had responded to Mrs. Hungerford's greeting with a correct society manner; and now, as she followed toward the dining-room, she bestowed upon that lady's back a keenly critical survey. She saw that Aunt Lucretia was well but simply gowned in white. She was immaculately fresh, and fragrant from her bath with a faint odor of violets about her that pleased rather than offended nostrils which habitually objected to "perfumery" as something common and vulgar.

Her gown might have been expensive but did not look so and was eminently more fit for an evening dinner in a tourists' hotel than the elaborate costume of Mrs. Stark.

Though she had been but twenty-four hours in the place, Auntie Lu had already adapted herself to it completely, and smiled away the services of a rather frightened head-waitress new to her business, as she threaded her way toward that distant corner of the crowded room where her own table overlooked the water.

A little hush fell over the adjoining tables as Mrs. Stark's elegance bore down upon them in her majestic way. She was portly and heavy-motioned, as poor Monty was apt to be when he should arrive at her age; and chairs had to be drawn in closer, feet tucked under them, and heads bent forward as she pa.s.sed by.

As for the youth in her train misery and mortification shone on his chubby countenance. For a boy he had been absurdly fond of dress, but he had also a keen sense of what was fit and he knew his present costume was not that. However, all this trivial unpleasantness pa.s.sed, as the entering pair were greeted by the rest of the party. The Judge still wore a business suit but his manner, as he rose to be presented to Mrs.

Stark was so polished and correct that her spirits revived, thinking:

"Well, the people are all right, if the place isn't."

She acknowledged Miss Isobel's greeting with a slight haughtiness, such as she felt was due a social inferior. Upon Molly she bestowed an admiring smile and glance; and upon Dorothy a rather perfunctory one.

The girl might also be "poorhouse born" for aught anybody knew, and from contact with such her "precious lamb" was to be well protected. She intended to see to it that further intercourse between her son and that "tramp," Jim Barlow, should be prevented also; and while she marvelled that "the Breckenridges" should make much of the girl, as apparently they did, it wasn't necessary that she should do the same. Monty had told her all about each member of the party so that Dorothy's story was familiar to her. The lad had concluded his recital with the words:

"She's the bravest, sincerest girl in the world. She's braver than Molly Breckenridge, and I like her immensely. All the boys at Brentnor think she's fine, and we all hope some grand romance will come out of the facts of her parentage. She doesn't come of any illiterate, common stock, Mamma. You may be sure of that. So I hope you'll be nice and not--not too _Stark-ish_ toward her, please!"

So this was the girl who had saved life. Of that grim teacher opposite and, later, of a farmer's son out of a tree where he was hanging. Very creditable, of course, though it couldn't affect herself, Mrs. Ebenezer Vavasour-Stark, and she fixed her attention elsewhere.

It was due to the Judge that she altered her opinion of her present quarters so far as to decide upon remaining in them; and to make the best of the whole trip, "which you know is but a prolonged picnic. As for air and health and strength, you could find nothing better the world over, my dear Madam," he had said.

After that first dinner also she had a talk with her son; which resulted in his displaying a common sense that did him credit.

"Look here, Mamma. Let's just pack all these over-fine togs in the trunks and leave them here to be sent to us when wanted. All we shall need, I fancy, is a suit-case a-piece with the plainest things we own.

Even that 'fancy' hunter's suit I bought is ridiculous. The Judge uses the oldest sort of things--'regular rags,' Molly says; and I--I may _be_ a fool but I don't like to _look_ like one! Do it, Mamma, to please me.

And let's put our 'society' manners into the trunks with the clothes.

Let's live, for these few weeks, as if we were real poor--as poor as Dolly or Miss Greatorex. I don't believe even that lady has any money to speak of and as for Dorothy, she hasn't a cent. Not a cent."

"How do you know that, Montmorency? Are you on such intimate terms with that foundling that she confides the state of her finances to you? If so, she is probably hinting for presents."

"Umm. Might be. Didn't look like it though when I proposed just now to buy her one of those Indian baskets on sale in the lobby. She wouldn't take one, though Molly took all I wanted to give--and more. _That_ girl hasn't any scruples about having a good time and letting anybody pay that wants to."

"That, son, is a proof of good birth and breeding, she has always been accustomed to having her wants supplied and takes it as a matter of course. But, Monty darling, you must be good to Mamma. She doesn't feel as if she had come to a 'Paradise of a place,' as you told me I would find it. Yet if it pleases you to see your mother dressed like a servant why, of course, for your sake I'll consent. But I warn you, no skylarking with underbred people or I shall take you straight home."

This little conversation shows that Mrs. Hungerford was right when she informed her brother on that same evening:

"We made a blunder when we allowed the Starks to join our personal party. They fit into it about as well as a round peg in a square hole.

The woman--Well, she may be high-born and rich but I don't want our Molly to copy her notions. She's not nice, either, to poor Miss Isobel nor Dorothy. The result is that Miss Greatorex has grown more difficult and 'stiff' than she was in the beginning. Such a pity when she's just begun to get softer and more human!"

In his heart the Judge was not over-pleased by this untoward opening of the new a.s.sociation, but he wouldn't admit it to her. He merely said:

"I'm sorry if you're going to let the prejudices of silly women spoil your own vacation. Don't do it. Just remember what you often say, that human nature is the same everywhere. We have the pride of wealth to contend with on one hand and the pride of poverty on the other; but beneath each sort of pride lies an honest heart. I believe it, and that we shall yet see these two opposing elements merged in a warm friends.h.i.+p. Watch for it. It takes all sorts of people to make a world and another sort will be added, to-morrow, when Melvin joins us. Throw in the college Prex, the millionaire financier, and surgeon Mantler, and we shall have a miniature world of our own in our traveling mates."

"Schuyler, you haven't told me yet what part that lad Melvin is to play in this 'world.' Why did you ask him?"

"To test him, Lu, nothing else. His mother is anxious he should make a man of himself and isn't sure how best he can. She permitted him to take a bugler's place on the 'Prince' because he wanted to try a sea-faring life. Two seasons of it, even under the comfortable conditions of a pa.s.senger steams.h.i.+p, has sickened him of that. He fancied he could be a musician and has talent sufficient only to 'bugle.' Now he wants to see the world, though he didn't dream I was to offer him a chance. She thinks he would make a good lawyer, and so his uncle Ephraim thinks. Her pastor thinks he ought to be a minister; and the only point upon which all his friends and himself agree is that he should not spend all his days in 'Ya'mouth.' I'm going to take him to camp with me, to act as handy-man for all of us. That will give me a chance to see what stuff he's made of; and if he's worth it--if he's worth it--I'll take him down to Richmond and set him at the law.

"Molly, however, must let him alone. That girl can upset more plans than the wisest man can lay; and if she gets to teasing him on account of his strange bashfulness she'll scare him away from us and disappoint his mother's tender heart. _She_ thinks that 'son' is a paragon of all the virtues. So does this other mother who's just joined us, think of her beloved Montmorency Vavasour-Stark. What a name! Between them and their 'laddies' I reckon I shall have less peace than from the wildest of tricksy Molly's capers."

"Schuyler, you mustn't be hard on her. She's exactly like what you were at her age! And she is the dearest child, you know it!"

"I must have been what you call 'a sweet thing,' then! But, of course, she's my own 'crow,' therefore she's pure white," laughed the adoring father, with more earnest than jest.

"Also, brother, in all your plans for others don't forget little Dorothy's. I know you're busy but I must find out who her own people are. I _must_. It's a sin and a heartless one to keep her young heart longer in suspense. I know she often ponders the thing, in spite of her cheerfulness, even gayety."

To which he returned:

"Don't attribute more pondering to her than belongs. Of the two I fancy you do the most of that. Nor think I've forgotten her interests. Her history is already being unravelled, thread by thread, and st.i.tch by st.i.tch. When the thread's wound clear up I trust it may make a goodly ball."

"Oh! my dear brother, what do you mean?" cried Aunt Lucretia, eagerly.

"I mean that I set old Ephraim Cook to the task. He's already down at Annapolis, fairly burrowing in archives and genealogies, and the skeleton closets of all our old Maryland families. It's the most congenial task he ever undertook in all his generally-useful life; for back here in 'Markland' he's long ago prepared a history of the peninsula that deserve publis.h.i.+ng. He can trace every Bluenose household to its very beginning, and claims his own came to this side the sea in the Mayflower. That's one reason he wants Melvin, the last of his race, to make a name for it. Trust me he'll forage for our Dorothy better than I could myself; but he isn't to disturb us with letters of theories or 'maybes.' When he gets his facts--hurrah for the _denoument_! Now, dear, to your rest. The burdens of a peacemaker rest on your shoulders but--you'll make and keep the peace. Good night."

After all, when the sun rose on the following morning and this oddly a.s.sorted traveling party met to discuss the day's plans, each was so rested and refreshed that an abnormal amiability pervaded the whole group.

"What would you like to do best?" "Oh, no! You say!" "I'm sure whatever the rest propose will be agreeable to me in the way of sight-seeing."

"Or even staying quietly at the hotel and just enjoying the outlook on the sea."

Such were the remarks exchanged and with such suavity of manner that Molly clapped her hands and cried:

"I declare, you're all too sweet to be wholesome! And it happens that I know what _I_ want to do, even if you don't. Let's go away down to the end, I mean the beginning, of the town where they are curing fish. I saw them from the car window, and even then they were so interesting. I mean the fish were. Or--or the things where they fixed them. And, beg pardon, Mrs. Stark, even if you looked at that water all day long you couldn't make it into a 'sea.' It's only a Basin, the f.a.g end of Annapolis Basin.

Yonder, where there are so many sails and steamers, is the Bay of Fundy, and to get to the really truly sea you must go beyond that. The reason I'm so wise, if you want to know, is that I've been here twenty-four hours longer than you and I improved my time by asking questions."

With that the little maid swept her new acquaintance a courtesy and smiled so sweetly that any presumption on her girlish part was readily forgiven. Besides she was a Breckenridge; and though Mrs. Stark had now resolved to be as "democratic" as her new friends were it was easier resolved than practiced. If it had been Dorothy who ventured to plan for her elders her suggestions would have been coolly ignored.

The Judge drew near in time to hear the end of the talk and added:

"That is a sight we won't meet elsewhere in the same proportion as here.

Also, the walk will do us good, and we shall pa.s.s the postoffice on our way. I like going for my own mail to the 'general delivery' better than having it sent to the hotel. I like the mingling with the eager crowd that waits before the little window to ask: 'Anything for me?' I like to watch the faces of the people when they open their letters. One can guess the 'home' ones by the expression of joy and the merely friendly by the indifference. I like--"

"Dear Schuyler, spare us! If there's anything upon earth you _don't_ like that's even half-way interesting I can't guess it." Then turning to Mrs. Stark, Mrs. Hungerford added: "Brother is like a boy when he gets leave of absence, this way. Suppose you walk along with him and find out if there is anything he _doesn't_ like along the way."

Her brother gave her an arch glance. Evidently she had begun her peaceful adjustment of "a.s.sorted" temperaments by a.s.signing himself to Mrs. Stark's escort, though she knew all the time that he wanted to be with the youngsters. She placed herself along side Miss Isobel, smiling at that lady's inquiry if she were going into a public street without a hat.

"Surely. 'When in Rome do as the Romans do,' you remember. And see.

Though most of the people have on some sort of wrap very few women are bonneted and even the men carry their hats in hand. Brother has s.n.a.t.c.hed his off already."

The Judge was in front, attentively courteous and listening to Mrs.