CHAPTER VI. MARY STAYS AT THE MANSE
The manse children took Mary Vance to church with them the next day. Atfirst Mary objected to the idea.
"Didn't you go to church over-harbour?" asked Una.
"You bet. Mrs. Wiley never troubled church much, but I went every SundayI could get off. I was mighty thankful to go to some place where Icould sit down for a spell. But I can't go to church in this old raggeddress."
This difficulty was removed by Faith offering the loan of her secondbest dress.
"It's faded a little and two of the buttons are off, but I guess it'lldo."
"I'll sew the buttons on in a jiffy," said Mary.
"Not on Sunday," said Una, shocked.
"Sure. The better the day the better the deed. You just gimme a needleand thread and look the other way if you're squeamish."
Faith's school boots, and an old black velvet cap that had once beenCecilia Meredith's, completed Mary's costume, and to church she went.Her behaviour was quite conventional, and though some wondered who theshabby little girl with the manse children was she did not attract muchattention. She listened to the sermon with outward decorum and joinedlustily in the singing. She had, it appeared, a clear, strong voice anda good ear.
"His blood can make the VIOLETS clean," carolled Mary blithely. Mrs.Jimmy Milgrave, whose pew was just in front of the manse pew, turnedsuddenly and looked the child over from top to toe. Mary, in a meresuperfluity of naughtiness, stuck out her tongue at Mrs. Milgrave, muchto Una's horror.
"I couldn't help it," she declared after church. "What'd she want tostare at me like that for? Such manners! I'm GLAD stuck my tongue outat her. I wish I'd stuck it farther out. Say, I saw Rob MacAllister fromover-harbour there. Wonder if he'll tell Mrs. Wiley on me."
No Mrs. Wiley appeared, however, and in a few day the children forgotto look for her. Mary was apparently a fixture at the manse. But sherefused to go to school with the others.
"Nope. I've finished my education," she said, when Faith urged her togo. "I went to school four winters since I come to Mrs. Wiley's and I'vehad all I want of THAT. I'm sick and tired of being everlastinglyjawed at 'cause I didn't get my home-lessons done. I'D no time to dohome-lessons."
"Our teacher won't jaw you. He is awfully nice," said Faith.
"Well, I ain't going. I can read and write and cipher up to fractions.That's all I want. You fellows go and I'll stay home. You needn't bescared I'll steal anything. I swear I'm honest."
Mary employed herself while the others were at school in cleaning upthe manse. In a few days it was a different place. Floors were swept,furniture dusted, everything straightened out. She mended the spare-roombed-tick, she sewed on missing buttons, she patched clothes neatly, sheeven invaded the study with broom and dustpan and ordered Mr. Meredithout while she put it to rights. But there was one department with whichAunt Martha refused to let her interfere. Aunt Martha might be deafand half blind and very childish, but she was resolved to keep thecommissariat in her own hands, in spite of all Mary's wiles andstratagems.
"I can tell you if old Martha'd let ME cook you'd have some decentmeals," she told the manse children indignantly. "There'd be no more'ditto'--and no more lumpy porridge and blue milk either. What DOES shedo with all the cream?"
"She gives it to the cat. He's hers, you know," said Faith.
"I'd like to CAT her," exclaimed Mary bitterly. "I've no use for catsanyhow. They belong to the old Nick. You can tell that by their eyes.Well, if old Martha won't, she won't, I s'pose. But it gits on my nervesto see good vittles spoiled."
When school came out they always went to Rainbow Valley. Mary refused toplay in the graveyard. She declared she was afraid of ghosts.
"There's no such thing as ghosts," declared Jem Blythe.
"Oh, ain't there?"
"Did you ever see any?"
"Hundreds of 'em," said Mary promptly.
"What are they like?" said Carl.
"Awful-looking. Dressed all in white with skellington hands and heads,"said Mary.
"What did you do?" asked Una.
"Run like the devil," said Mary. Then she caught Walter's eyes andblushed. Mary was a good deal in awe of Walter. She declared to themanse girls that his eyes made her nervous.
"I think of all the lies I've ever told when I look into them," shesaid, "and I wish I hadn't."
Jem was Mary's favourite. When he took her to the attic at Ingleside andshowed her the museum of curios that Captain Jim Boyd had bequeathed tohim she was immensely pleased and flattered. She also won Carl's heartentirely by her interest in his beetles and ants. It could not be deniedthat Mary got on rather better with the boys than with the girls. Shequarrelled bitterly with Nan Blythe the second day.
"Your mother is a witch," she told Nan scornfully. "Red-haired womenare always witches." Then she and Faith fell out about the rooster. Marysaid its tail was too short. Faith angrily retorted that she guessed Godknow what length to make a rooster's tail. They did not "speak" fora day over this. Mary treated Una's hairless, one-eyed doll withconsideration; but when Una showed her other prized treasure--a pictureof an angel carrying a baby, presumably to heaven, Mary declared thatit looked too much like a ghost for her. Una crept away to her room andcried over this, but Mary hunted her out, hugged her repentantly andimplored forgiveness. No one could keep up a quarrel long with Mary--noteven Nan, who was rather prone to hold grudges and never quite forgavethe insult to her mother. Mary was jolly. She could and did tell themost thrilling ghost stories. Rainbow Valley seances were undeniablymore exciting after Mary came. She learned to play on the jew's-harp andsoon eclipsed Jerry.
"Never struck anything yet I couldn't do if I put my mind to it," shedeclared. Mary seldom lost a chance of tooting her own horn. Shetaught them how to make "blow-bags" out of the thick leaves of the"live-forever" that flourished in the old Bailey garden, she initiatedthem into the toothsome qualities of the "sours" that grew in the nichesof the graveyard dyke, and she could make the most wonderful shadowpictures on the walls with her long, flexible fingers. And when they allwent picking gum in Rainbow Valley Mary always got "the biggest chew"and bragged about it. There were times when they hated her and timeswhen they loved her. But at all times they found her interesting.So they submitted quite meekly to her bossing, and by the end of afortnight had come to feel that she must always have been with them.
"It's the queerest thing that Mrs. Wiley hain't been after me," saidMary. "I can't understand it."
"Maybe she isn't going to bother about you at all," said Una. "Then youcan just go on staying here."
"This house ain't hardly big enough for me and old Martha," said Marydarkly. "It's a very fine thing to have enough to eat--I've oftenwondered what it would be like--but I'm p'ticler about my cooking. AndMrs. Wiley'll be here yet. SHE'S got a rod in pickle for me all right. Idon't think about it so much in daytime but say, girls, up there in thatgarret at night I git to thinking and thinking of it, till I just almostwish she'd come and have it over with. I dunno's one real good whippingwould be much worse'n all the dozen I've lived through in my mind eversince I run away. Were any of you ever licked?"
"No, of course not," said Faith indignantly. "Father would never do sucha thing."
"You don't know you're alive," said Mary with a sigh half of envy, halfof superiority. "You don't know what I've come through. And I s'pose theBlythes were never licked either?"
"No-o-o, I guess not. But I THINK they were sometimes spanked when theywere small."
"A spanking doesn't amount to anything," said Mary contemptuously. "Ifmy folks had just spanked me I'd have thought they were pettingme. Well, it ain't a fair world. I wouldn't mind taking my share ofwallopings but I've had a darn sight too many."
"It isn't right to say that word, Mary," said Una reproachfully. "Youpromised me you wouldn't say it."
"G'way," responded Mary. "If you knew some of the words I COULD say if Iliked you wouldn't make such a fuss over darn. And you know very well Ihain't ever
told any lies since I come here."
"What about all those ghosts you said you saw?" asked Faith.
Mary blushed.
"That was diff'runt," she said defiantly. "I knew you wouldn't believethem yarns and I didn't intend you to. And I really did see somethingqueer one night when I was passing the over-harbour graveyard, true'syou live. I dunno whether 'twas a ghost or Sandy Crawford's old whitenag, but it looked blamed queer and I tell you I scooted at the rate ofno man's business."