Three Little Women's Success Part 3

"Connie, Connie, this is dreadful!"

"May be," answered Constance, wagging her head dubiously; "but I'm afraid we must resign ourselves to it. Mercy only knows how she will come home at Thanksgiving. I believe he is to meet her. I'm prepared for a box car or even a flat car. Yes, it is dreadful, you are quite right.

Wonder how it will affect me if I ever succ.u.mb? But take my advice, get busy, Mumsey, and, dear, remember this-" Swiftly the tone changed from the jesting one to the tenderest as the girl rested her head upon her mother's shoulder: "You represent _home_ to us girls. Without you it would be the harp without its strings, the organ without its pipes. It would disintegrate. Keep it for us. Try to feel that you are doing far more in our busy hive by just being our Queen Bee than you ever could by going abroad in the land to gather the honey. Let _us_ do that, and remember this-I read it not long ago and I'll never forget it:-

"'The beautiful gracious mother, Wherever she places her chair, In the kitchen (this one) or the parlor, The center of home is there.'

"Ready for me in there, Mary? Mother is peris.h.i.+ng for occupation, and I've scolded her as much as I dare," and, with a tender kiss upon her mother's cheek, the girl ran swiftly into the next room.

CHAPTER V

MAMMY MAKES INVESTIGATIONS.

"Bress de Lord, we ain't got ter run no counter on Thanksgiving Day!"

was Mammy's fervent exclamation, as she rose from her bed on the Monday preceding Thanksgiving Day. Hurrying across the room she opened the draughts in the little stove, for Charles' rheumatic twinges must not be aggravated by the sudden chill of rising from a warm bed to dress in a cold room. The fire had been carefully covered the night before, and now, replenished by a few shovelfuls of coal, and a vigorous shake of the revolving grate, was soon snapping and roaring right comfortably.

The rattling had served more than one end, as had the clatter made by putting on the fresh fuel. Although Mammy had no idea of permitting her spouse to contract a cold from dressing in a cold room, she, on the other hand, saw no reason why he should indulge in over-many morning winks after she, herself, had risen and begun the duties of the day.

"Eh? Um, yas, Honey," came in somnolent tones from the billows of feathers in which Charles' s.h.i.+ny bald pate, with its fringe of snowy wool, was nearly buried. Mammy could not abide the new-fangled hair mattresses, but clung tenaciously to her bygone ideas of "real downright comfort fer a body dat's clar beat out when de day's done. No, sir-ee!

Don't talk ter me ob dese hyar ha'r mattresses. I ain't got a mite er use fer 'em needer has Charles, _if I ses-so_. Give me de suah 'nough fedders wid de down on 'em; none ob yo' hawse ha'r stuffed bags. De fedders fits wherever dey teches, 'an snugs up mighty soft on de achy spots, but dose highfalutin' h'ar mattresses,-well, dey jest lak dese hyar Norf folks we meet up wid: ef yo' kin fit _dem_, well an' good, yo's all right, but does yo' t'ink dey's gwine ter try fer ter fit yo'?

Go 'long, chile."

Consequently the bed, which stood in the bedroom of the little cottage in which Mammy and Charles lived, boasted a feather bed, the like of which for downiness and size was rarely seen. It had been made by Mammy herself of the downiest of feathers, plucked by her own hand from the downiest of her own geese, hatched under her own critical eyes when she was a young woman on her old master's plantation. It had taken many geese, many days, much drying and curing to achieve such a triumph; and the "baid" was Mammy's most cherished possession. The airings, sunnings, beatings and renovatings to which it had been subjected during the years she had owned it would have totally wrecked any less perfect article of household economy; but it had survived all, and each morning, after its prescribed hours of airing, was "spread up" into a most imposing mound, covered with a "croshey" spread, made by the sanctified hands of "ol'

Miss" (Mrs. Carruth's mother), and still further adorned by "piller shams," made by "Miss Jinny" herself.

More than one of Mrs. Carruth's guests had been conducted through Mammy's cottage by its proud inmate, and the "baid" and its coverings displayed with justifiable pride.

"Yas, wake up!" commanded Mammy, making her own toilet with despatch.

"We's got a pile o' wo'k ter do terday, an' I'se gotter see dat dose no count n.i.g.g.e.r gals what's a-pertendin' ter do Miss Jinny's wo'k now-a-days gits a move on 'em. Dey pesters me mightily, dough I ain't let 'em 'spect it, I tells yo'. Ef I did dey'd jes nach.e.l.ly climb right ober de house an' ebery las' pusson in it. But I knows how ter han'le 'em ef Miss Jinny don't. She t'ink she gwine do it jes lak she useter back yonder on her Pa's plantation, but it don' do up hyar. Trouble is wid dese hyar Norf n.i.g.g.e.rs dey ain' know dey _is_ n.i.g.g.e.rs, and dey gits mighty mix in dey minds twell somebody come along and tells 'em jest 'zackly what dey is, an' whar dey b'longs at. I done tol' dem two in yonder, an' I reckon dey's learnt a heap since I done took 'em in han'.

Yas, I does. Dey don' come a-splurgin' an' a-splutterin' roun' me no mo'

wid dey, 'Dis hyar ain' ma juty. I ain' 'gaged fer ter do dat wuk.' My Lawd! I come pretty nigh bustin' dat Lilly May's haid las' week when I tell her ter do sumpin' an' she say dat ter me. She foun' out what her juty was, an' she ain't fergit it again, I tell yo'. Now come 'long down, Charles, I gwine have brekfus ready befo' yo' get yo' wool breshed," and off hurried the old woman to begin the routine of her more than busy day.

The clock was striking five when Charles came slowly down the stairs and entered the immaculate kitchen. The past three years have dealt kindly with the old couple in spite of their incessant labors. Mammy has not changed in the least. Charles is a trifle more bent, perhaps, but the three years have certainly not detracted from the old man's appearance, nor have they robbed him of any strength. Indeed, he seems in better health and physical condition than upon the day he celebrated his golden wedding. Mammy has made up for the lost years by caring for him as she would have cared for a child.

The business which they started in the Arcade has flourished and prospered beyond their wildest hopes. Charles still holds the honorary position of "Janitor-in-Chief" at the Arcade, a sinecure in every sense of the word excepting one; he keeps the acting janitor up to the high mark in the performance of _his_ duties, greatly to Mr. Porter's amus.e.m.e.nt. He also keeps the dapper mulatto youth, who now serves at the lunch counter headed due north. To that young man Charles is "Mr.

Devon," of the firm of "Blairsdale & Devon."

At the cottage Mammy still cooks, bakes, preserves and concocts with all her wonderful skill, a.s.sisted by a little colored girl, the eldest of those whom Jean impressed upon Mammy's wedding day.

Oh, Mammy is a most important personage these days.

Breakfast over in the little cottage, and it was a breakfast fit for a king, Mammy began issuing her orders like a general, and Charles lived only to obey.

"Now hike in dar an' git de furnace a-goin' good, an' den go 'long ter de gre't house an' have it good an' warm befo' dem chillern wakes up. I cyant have em' ketchin' cold, an' de mawnin's right snappy," she said, as dish-towel in hand she looked out of her kitchen door at the glistening world, for a heavy h.o.a.r frost covered lawn and foliage, prophesying a storm before many days.

"Here, put on yo' coat! What's de use ob my rubbin' yo' shoulder wid linnimint ef yo' gwine right spang out dis here warm kitchen inter de chill ob de mawnin' widout wroppin' up? Laws-a-ma.s.sy, it tek mos' de whole endurin' time ter keep you from doin' foolishnesses, I clar it do."

Charles chuckled delightedly. It was, on the whole, rather flattering to be so cherished and looked after as he had been during the last three years. Poor old soul, those he had spent alone had been barren enough of care or comforts.

"You needn't ter snort dat-a-way," protested his dominating wife. "I's only jes' a-watchin' out fer my _own_ sake. I'se got a sight ter do 'sides nussin' rheumatics an' tekin' keer sick folks wid a misery in dey backs."

"Honey, yo's a wonder. Yas, yo' _is_," was Charles' parting rejoinder, as he toddled off to the duties, which to him, as well as to Mammy, were labors of love. Before many minutes had pa.s.sed the little candy kitchen was snug and warm for its mistress, and then the old man made his way to the "gre't house," as he and Mammy, true to earlier customs, always called the home which sheltered their white folks. Mammy had already finished her own household tasks and met him at the door. Together they entered the silent house, their key making not the slightest sound, lest they disturb the sleeping inmates. The maids now in Mrs. Carruth's service did not sleep in the house, but came at seven each morning, and woe betide the tardy one! Mammy was always on hand, and her greeting was governed by the moment of the said damsel's arrival. There were a few duties, however, which Mammy would permit no other than herself to perform. She must see that the breakfast table was properly laid, the breakfast under way and the rooms dusted, aired and warmed before she stole softly upstairs to call her "chillern." Then she turned all over to her dusky satellites, and at once became grand high potentate and autocrat.

It was a few minutes past seven when she entered Mrs. Carruth's room with a cheery "Mawnin', honey. 'Spose ef I lets yo' sleep any longer yo'

gwine give me sumpin' I ain't cravin' fer ter git. Cyant fer de life er me see why yo' boun' ter git up dese mawnin's. Why won' yo' let me bring up yo' tray, honey?" said the good old soul, moving softly about the room, raising the window shades and turning on the valve of the radiator.

"Because I have all I can do as it is to keep you and the girls from spoiling me completely," returned Mrs. Carruth, as she rose from her bed and stepped into the adjoining bathroom, where Mammy already had her bath prepared.

"Well, it's de biggest job we-all ever is tackled," insisted the old woman, as she placed a chair before the dressing table and took from the closet the garments Mrs. Carruth would need for the day. Since sunnier times had come to this home Mammy had fallen back into old habits. The "chillern," as she called Eleanor, Constance and Jean, were called before their mother was awakened, but "Miss Jinny" claimed her undivided attention, and it would have nearly broken Mammy's loving old heart had Mrs. Carruth denied her this privilege, so long made impossible by the strenuous days and manifold duties following upon the misfortunes which succeeded Mr. Carruth's death.

The delight of Mammy's life was to a.s.sist at her "Miss Jinny's" toilet, as she had done in her mistress' girlhood days-to brush and arrange the still abundant hair, and to hand her a fresh handkerchief and say, as she had said to the young girl years ago:

"Gawd bless yo', honey! Yo' is as sweet as de roses dis mawnin'."

When all was completed to her satisfaction, and Mrs. Carruth was about to leave the room, Mammy remarked, with well-a.s.sumed indifference:

"I 'spose dat Lilly done got Miss Nonnie's room all fix jes right, but I reckons I better cas' ma eyes ober it; cyant trus' dese girls wid no 'sponserbility, nohow."

"I think everything is in perfect order, Mammy, but I dare say you will feel happier if you give those little touches which you alone can give.

Eleanor will recognize them and be happier because you gave them. It will be a joy to us all to have her back again, won't it, although she has not been away so very long after all."

"No'm, she ain't. How long she gwine be wid us dis time?"

"Not quite a week, Mammy. She will reach here this afternoon and must leave us early Sat.u.r.day; Thanksgiving holidays are short ones. We shall have her longer at Christmas, then we will count the days till Easter, and after that to June, when we will have her for a long, long holiday, and college days will be ended."

"M'm-u'm," nodded Mammy, drawing the coverings from the bed and laying them carefully over chairs to air. "Spec she'll find dat trip down from up yonder mighty tiresome. Trabblin' all alone is sort of frazzlin'."

"She is hardly likely to travel alone. Mammy. So many of her college mates will be journeying the same way, and even if they were not, she will be pretty sure to meet Mr. Forbes; he was obliged to run up to Springfield on Sat.u.r.day and expects to return to-day. They may meet on the same train."

Mammy was looking out of the window. It would have made very little difference had she been facing Mrs. Carruth. Her face was absolutely inscrutable, as she answered:

"'Spec dat would save Miss Nonnie a heap ob trouble. Yas'm, mebbe dey will meet up wid one anoder."

Mrs. Carruth went upon her way to the breakfast room. Mammy had learned all she wished to know.

At four o'clock that afternoon Miss Jean Carruth was perched upon her point of vantage, from which every object approaching her home could be descried. It was not a particularly easy point to reach, but that only added to its attraction; n.o.body else was likely to choose it. Nearly everyone sought the terrace, the piazza, or the upper windows in preference to the stable roof, even though the stable roof boasted a delightful a.s.sortment of gables and dormer windows, to say nothing of a broad gutter, around which one could prance at the imminent risk of a header to the ground, at least twelve feet below. In the golden haze of that mellow November afternoon, for autumn lingered late this year, Jean sat curled up in her corner, her chin resting in her palms, and her wonderful eyes fixed upon the road leading up the hill to her home. It was in reality more street than road, but was nearly always mentioned as the "hill road," owing to its contrast to the broader highway from which it branched and zig-zagged up the hill to the more spa.r.s.ely settled section of Riveredge. The watcher commanded all its length. Presently the s.h.i.+ning eyes lighted up with a queer, half-delighted, half-defiant expression. Far down the road a vehicle was approaching; it was one of the railroad station surreys, and in it were seated two people, besides the driver: two people quite oblivious to all the rest of the world, if one could judge by their absorbing interest in each other, for the keen eyes watching them could discern this, even from their owner's distance from the surrey.

"Um." The utterance might be interpreted almost any way. Then, "_Now_, I dare say, we've got to have him here all this evening, and all to-morrow, and all the next day, and all every day; and I don't want him around every single minute. My goodness, it was bad enough before Nonnie left for -- College; we never could get a single word in edgeways. I wonder if he's going to board here? I used to like him when he just came to see us all, but now he's tickled to death if everybody's engaged when he shows up; _everybody but Nonnie_. I reckon I've got to take things in hand. Nonnie's only twenty-one, and he's, he's? I do believe he's about _forty-one_, though I never could get him to tell. But it doesn't make any difference! He's too old for Nonnie, and I'm not going to let him have her," was the emphatic conclusion to this monologue, as Jean scrambled to her feet and gave a defiant nod toward the vehicle, which had just drawn up in front of the carriage block. At that moment Mrs.

Carruth and Constance hurried down the steps to greet the new arrivals.

Evidently the welcome accorded the masculine member of the party aroused a keen sense of resentment in Jean, and some manner of outlet for her feelings became imperative. Physical exercise was her usual safety-valve, and in this instance she chose one which had on former occasions proved effective, and more than once brought Mammy to the verge of nervous prostration, and the dire prophecy that "sooner or later dat chile gwine brek her neck." As before stated, the gutter was wide, it was also a stoutly constructed one of galvanized iron, but it had _not_ been designed for a promenade, much less a running track for athletic training. Nevertheless, it had to serve as one this time, for Jean started running around it as though bent upon its destruction, or her own. It came near proving her own, for just as Homer Forbes was placing a couple of suit cases upon the piazza he chanced to catch sight of the prancing demoiselle, and with a shout of: "Great Josephus! Are you courting sudden death?" made a wild dash for the stable.

With a defiant skip, Jean made for the other side at top speed, lost her balance, slipped, and the next second was hanging suspended by her arms between earth and sky. Had she not been lithe as a cat she never could have saved herself. Forbes was nearly petrified.

"Hang on! Confound it, what took you up there, anyway?" he cried, with no little asperity, as the others hurried across the lawn to the trapeze performer's rescue.

"My feet took me up and my hands are keeping me here. Stand from under!

I'm going to drop."