The Pleasant Street Partnership Part 27

Miss Virginia rocked briskly for some minutes, then she remarked, "There was something in your Aunt Caroline's last letter I did not understand." Taking it from the envelope she unfolded it and glanced down the page. "Here it is. 'I infer from certain hints you have dropped at different times that you have not taken my advice in regard to the shop--' I didn't hint, I only said--" Miss Virginia hesitated.

She did not recall just what she had said, but she knew she had by no means revealed the true extent of her intimacy with the shopkeepers.

She went on with the letter. "'I have lately received some first-hand information concerning these young women, who seem to have fulfilled my prophecy that they would lose no opportunity to ingratiate themselves. I fear you have been too credulous, my dear Virginia, but I will not enter into the matter further till I see you.'

"I wonder what she means by 'first-hand information'?" said Miss Virginia. "I know Caroline will never feel as the rest of us do, but she can't know anything against them."

"No, indeed," Charlotte cried. "There isn't anything about Miss Marion, or Miss Norah either, that is not lovely."

The thought of Marion's caress returned, and with it the question whether she should tell Cousin Frank or not; for it occurred to her he might think her officious to have spoken of the matter to a stranger.

If-- Charlotte became lost in thought again.

A good many miles to the northward two gentlemen were dining together at the very hour when Miss Virginia and Charlotte sat on the porch and watched the sunset without thinking of it.

"You have great reason to be pleased with the reviews of your book, Frank," the elder man remarked, gratified affection in the grave smile with which his gaze rested on his son.

"Yes, for the most part the critics are kind," Francis Landor replied, drawing hieroglyphics in an absent manner on the cloth with the handle of his spoon.

"But one thing is lacking," thought the father, his glance still resting on the bent head. "The boy must come to something with such a head," he had often said in his childhood; and now the belief was likely to be justified. The face before him was showing the strong, serious lines of maturity, yet he almost regretted the lost boyishness as he noted them.

Suddenly Frank looked up. "I am thinking of going away for a week or so," he announced.

A smile hovered about his father's lips. "May I ask in what direction?--To see Charlotte?"

Their eyes met. "Yes, to see Charlotte," Francis answered.

"When do you go?"

"Sometime to-morrow."

"I wish you good luck, my son."

"So he, too, has guessed," thought Frank.

When he was alone, he took out a letter which bore evidence of more than one reading. Its date showed it to be a year old.

"I am going away," the letter said, "to be gone a long time,--at least a year. By then my fate ought to be decided. I am trying to hope, as Dr. Baird a.s.sures me I may, trying to live entirely in the present. It is not easy, but how can I make any plans for the future when a possible life of helplessness lies before me?

You are generous, and I know you will forgive if this causes you pain. Forget--everything but that I am always your friend,

"MARION CARPENTER.

"I have told no one where I am going, as it seems best to make as complete a break as possible with my life here. Dr. Baird, of course, knows."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINTH

A LETTER

"Really, Mrs. Millard, you have treated us very shabbily. It is nearly a year since you left us."

"Ten months, Judge Russell. You are very kind to say you have missed me. I had no thought of staying so long when I left, and I am delighted to be at home again." Mrs. Millard stood in the drawing-room, as composed and elegant as if she had not arrived from a three days' railway journey only a few hours before.

It was a summer-like evening, doors and windows were open, and one after another of the neighbors had dropped in, until Charlotte was reminded of the evening a year ago when the shop was under discussion.

She felt a little shy in Aunt Caroline's presence, although that lady was graciousness itself; and Wayland Leigh, who came in with his aunt, joined her in the corner by the library door and wanted to know what made her so quiet.

"Quite a party, isn't it?" he said; adding, "but where are Miss Marion and Miss Norah?" Like Charlotte, Wayland always put Marion first.

"I don't believe Aunt Caroline would want them," she replied, smiling.

"To be sure, when she went away we didn't know them."

That others were also thinking of the shop was evident, for Miss Sarah was now heard remarking, "You left us defenceless, Caroline, and we surrendered soon after your departure."

"Yes, the shop has become a neighborhood inst.i.tution," Judge Russell added.

"I am more than surprised to hear _you_ say so, Judge Russell."

"But Mr. Goodman is the most remarkable convert, Mrs. Millard," said Alex. "Just ask him his opinion of the shop."

"I do not wish to criticise, this first evening at home," Mrs. Millard began graciously; "but as I have been telling Virginia, I cannot understand the fascination these persons seem to have exercised over you."

"But you know they are really charming young women," ventured Mrs.

Russell. "I objected to the shop as decidedly as any one until I found out about them. Their popularity is not confined to this neighborhood, and of course you know they are well connected."

"It is about that I wish to speak," interposed Mrs. Millard. "As you may have heard, Miss Unadilla Carpenter, the half-sister of Peter Carpenter, is a friend of my oldest sister. For years they have corresponded; so when I heard from Virginia that these people claimed to be related to the Philadelphia Carpenters, I took it upon myself to write a letter of inquiry to Miss Unadilla. She was ill at the time and some months pa.s.sed before she replied. A few weeks ago I received a letter, in a part of which you may be interested."

Mrs. Millard was evidently prepared for the occasion, for she at once produced the paper in question.

"I shall be glad to hear it, but it can't alter my opinion of our friends across the street," Miss Sarah said stoutly, at which remark Miss Virginia visibly brightened.

Mrs. Millard paid no heed, but began to read. "'Of the Miss Carpenter of whom you write I know nothing. She is not related to us. My niece, May Carpenter, is my only connection of the name, as I am hers. Of my niece I know little at present. Two years ago she had a long illness which came near being fatal, since then I believe she has been abroad.

As to the young woman in question, I repeat we have no cousins.'" Mrs.

Millard looked around the circle in triumph.

"Of course," said Miss Sarah, "there are some things difficult to explain; but the most difficult of all would be, how two young women could come into a neighborhood and make it better and happier for their presence, could nurse some of us when we were ill, and show themselves in a thousand ways helpful and kindly and companionable, and all with the utmost simplicity,--to explain how they could do all this and yet be impostors, would be harder still. The good Book says, 'By their fruits ye shall know them,' and that is how we know the shopkeepers."

Wayland clapped noiselessly. "Good for auntie!" he whispered to Charlotte.

"I really don't remember Marion's saying she was a cousin of Miss Carpenter," said Alex. "Perhaps we jumped to the conclusion."

Mrs. Millard's lips were parted to reply when an exclamation from Miss Virginia caused all eyes to turn toward the door. From the awed silence it might have been a ghost, instead of Norah Pennington in a white dress, who stood there.

She could not but be conscious of the excitement her appearance aroused. Her color deepened as for a second she felt herself the object of the silent gaze of this roomful of people. She did not lose her self-possession, however, and in another moment Charlotte was at her side, and Miss Virginia had recovered her power of speech.

"I really came in search of Alex," Norah explained, a most engaging impostor surely, as she smiled upon the a.s.sembly.

"Do you know my sister, Miss Pennington?" Miss Virginia's embarra.s.sment was painfully evident.