CHAPTER IV--LITTLE JANE'S TWO NURSES
Louise had been considerably puzzled to account for the presence of thestrange girl in Uncle John's party. At first she did not know whether toreceive Mildred Travers as an equal or a dependent. Not until the threenieces were seated together in Louise's own room, exchanging girlishconfidences, was Mildred's status clearly defined to the young mother.
"You see," explained Patsy, "Uncle John was dreadfully worried over thebaby. When you wrote of that terrible time the dear little one had withthe colic, and how you were dependent on a Mexican girl who fed theinnocent lamb some horrid hot stuff, Uncle declared it was a shame toimperil such a precious life, and that you must have a thoroughlycompetent nurse."
"But," said Louise, quite bewildered, "I'm afraid you don't understandthat--"
"And so," broke in Beth, "I told him I knew of a perfect jewel of atrained nurse, who knows as much as most doctors and could guard thebaby from a thousand dangers. I'd watched her care for one of our poorgirls who was knocked down by an automobile and badly injured, andMildred was so skillful and sympathetic that she quite won my heart. Iwasn't sure, at first, she'd come way out to California, to stay, butwhen I broached the subject she cried out: 'Thank heaven!' in such aheart-felt, joyous tone that I was greatly relieved. So we brought heralong, and--"
"Really, Beth, I don't need her," protested Louise. "The Mexicans areconsidered the best nurses in the world, and Inez is perfectly devotedto baby and worships her most sinfully. I got her from a woman whoformerly employed her as a nurse and she gave Inez a splendidrecommendation. Both Arthur and I believe she saved baby's life by herprompt action when the colic caught her."
"But the hot stuff!" cried Patsy.
"It might have ruined baby's stomach for life," asserted Beth.
"No; it's a simple Mexican remedy that is very efficient. Perhaps, in myanxiety, I wrote more forcibly than the occasion justified," admittedLouise; "but I have every confidence in Inez."
The girls were really dismayed and frankly displayed their chagrin.Louise laughed at them.
"Never mind," she said; "it's just one of dear Uncle John's blunders intrying to be good to me; so let's endeavor to wiggle out of the hole asgracefully as possible."
"I don't see how you'll do it," confessed Patsy. "Here's Mildred,permanently engaged and all expenses paid."
"She is really a superior person, as you'll presently discover," addedBeth. "I've never dared question her as to her family history, but Iventure to say she is well born and with just as good antecedents as wehave--perhaps better."
"She's very quiet and undemonstrative," said Patsy musingly.
"Naturally, being a trained nurse. I liked her face," said Louise, "buther eyes puzzle me."
"They are her one unfortunate feature," Beth agreed.
"They're cold," said Patsy; "that's the trouble. You never get _into_her eyes, somehow. They repel you."
"I never look at them," said Beth. "Her mouth is sweet and sensitive andher facial expression pleasant. She moves as gracefully and silentlyas--as--"
"As a cat," suggested Patsy.
"And she is acquainted with all the modern methods of nursing, althoughshe's done a lot of hospital work, too."
"Well," said Louise, reflectively, "I'll talk it over with Arthur andsee what we can do. Perhaps baby needs two nurses. We can't dischargeInez, for Toodlums is even more contented with her than with me; but Iadmit it will be a satisfaction to have so thoroughly competent a nurseas Miss Travers at hand in case of emergency. And, above all else, Idon't want to hurt dear Uncle John's feelings."
She did talk it over with Arthur, an hour later, and her boy husbanddeclared he had "sized up the situation" the moment he laid eyes onMildred at the depot. They owed a lot to Uncle John, he added, and themost graceful thing they could do, under the circumstances, was toinstal Miss Travers as head nurse and retain Inez as her assistant.
"The chances are," said Arthur laughingly, "that the Mexican girl willhave most of the care of Toodlums, as she does now, while the superiorwill remain content to advise Inez and keep a general supervision overthe nursery. So fix it up that way, Louise, and everybody will behappy."
Uncle John was thanked so heartily for his thoughtfulness by the youngcouple that his kindly face glowed with satisfaction, and then Louisebegan the task of reconciling the two nurses to the proposed arrangementand defining the duties of each. Mildred Travers inclined her headgraciously and said it was an admirable arrangement and quitesatisfactory to her. But Inez listened sullenly and her dark eyes glowedwith resentment.
"You not trust me more, then?" she added.
"Oh, yes, Inez; we trust you as much as ever," Louise assured her.
"Then why you hire this strange woman?"
"She is a present to us, from my Uncle John, who came this morning. Hedidn't know you were here, you see, or he would not have brought her."
Inez remained unmollified.
"Miss Travers is a very skillful baby doctor," continued Louise, "andshe can mend broken bones, cure diseases and make the sick well."
Inez nodded.
"I know. A witch-woman," she said in a whisper. "You can trust mesenora, but you cannot trust her. No witch-woman can be trusted."
Louise smiled but thought best not to argue the point farther. Inez wentback to the nursery hugging Toodlums as jealously as if she feared someone would snatch the little one from her arms.
Next morning Mildred said to Beth, in whom she confided most:
"The Mexican girl does not like me. She is devotedly attached to thebaby and fears I will supplant her."
"That is true," admitted Beth, who had conceived the same idea; "but youmustn't mind her, Mildred. The poor thing's only half civilized anddoesn't understand our ways very well. What do you think of littleJane?"
"I never knew a sweeter, healthier or more contented baby. She smilesand sleeps perpetually and seems thoroughly wholesome. Were she toremain in her present robust condition there would be little need of myservices, I assure you. But--"
"But what?" asked Beth anxiously, as the nurse hesitated.
"All babies have their ills, and little Jane cannot escape them. Therainy season is approaching and dampness is trying to infants. Therewill be months of moisture, and then--I shall be needed."
"Have you been in California before?" asked Beth, impressed by Mildred'spositive assertion.
The girl hesitated a moment, looking down.
"I was born here," she said in low, tense tones.
"Indeed! Why, I thought all the white people in California came from theeast. I had no idea there could be such a thing as a white native."
Mildred smiled with her lips. Her imperturbable eyes never smiled.
"I am only nineteen, in spite of my years of training and hard work,"she said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. "My father came herenearly thirty years ago."
"To Southern California?"
"Yes."
"Did you live near here, then?"
Mildred looked around her.
"I have been in this house often, as a girl," she said slowly. "SenorCristoval was--an acquaintance of my father."
Beth stared at her, greatly interested.
"How strange!" she exclaimed. "You cannot be far from your own family,then," she added.
Mildred shivered a little, twisting her fingers nervously together. Shewas indeed sensitive, despite that calm, repellent look in her eyes.
"I hope," she said, evading Beth's remark, "to be of real use to thisdear baby, whom I already love. The Mexican girl, Inez, is well enoughas a caretaker, but her judgment could not be trusted in emergencies.These Mexicans lose their heads easily and in crises are liable to domore harm than good. Mrs. Weldon's arrangement is an admirable one and Iconfess it relieves me of much drudgery and confinement. I shall keep awatchful supervision over my charge and be prepared to meet anyemergency."
Beth was not wholly satisfied with this interview. Mildred had told herjust eno
ugh to render her curious, but had withheld any information asto how a California girl happened to be in New York working as a trainednurse. She remembered the girl's fervent exclamation: "Thank heaven!"when asked if she would go to Southern California, to a ranch called ElCajon, to take care of a new baby. Beth judged from this that Mildredwas eager to get back home again; yet she had evaded any reference toher family or former friends, and since her arrival had expressed nowish to visit them.
There was something strange and unaccountable about the affair, and forthis reason Beth refrained from mentioning to her cousins that MildredTravers was a Californian by birth and was familiar with the scenesaround El Cajon ranch and even with the old house itself. Perhaps someday the girl would tell her more, when she would be able to relate thewhole story to Patsy and Louise.
Of course the new arrivals were eager to inspect the orange and olivegroves, so on the day following that of their arrival the entire partyprepared to join Arthur Weldon in a tramp over the three hundred acreranch.
A little way back of the grounds devoted to the residence and gardensbegan the orange groves, the dark green foliage just now hung thick withfruit, some green, some pale yellow and others of that deep orange huewhich denotes full maturity. "They consider five acres of oranges apretty fair ranch, out here," said the young proprietor; "but I have ahundred and ten acres of bearing trees. It will take a good many freightcars to carry my oranges to the eastern markets."
"And what a job to pick them all!" exclaimed Patsy.
"We don't pick them," said Arthur. "I sell the crop on the trees and thepurchaser sends a crew of men who gather the fruit in quick order. Theyare taken to big warehouses and sorted into sizes, wrapped and packedand loaded onto cars. That is a separate branch of the business withwhich we growers have nothing to do."
Between the orange and the olive groves, and facing a little lane, theycame upon a group of adobe huts--a little village in itself. Manychildren were playing about the yards, while several stalwart Mexicanslounged in the shade quietly smoking their eternal cigarettes. Womenappeared in the doorways, shading their eyes with their hands as theycuriously examined the approaching strangers.
Only one man, a small, wiry fellow with plump brown cheeks and hair andbeard of snowy whiteness, detached himself from the group and advancedto meet his master. Removing his wide sombrero he made a sweeping bow, agesture so comical that Patsy nearly laughed aloud.
"This is Miguel Zaloa, the ranchero, who has charge of all my men," saidArthur. Then, addressing the man, he asked: "Any news, Miguel?"
"Ever'thing all right, Meest Weld," replied the ranchero, his brighteyes earnestly fixed upon his employer's face. "Some pardon, senor;but--Mees Jane is well?"
"Quite well, thank you, Miguel."
"Mees Jane," said the man, shyly twirling his hat in his hands as hecast an upward glance at the young ladies, "ees cherub young lade; muchlove an' beaut'ful. Ees not?"
"She's a dear," replied Patsy, with ready sympathy for the sentiment andgreatly pleased to find the man so ardent an admirer of the baby.
"Ever'bod' love Mees Jane," continued old Miguel, simply. "Since shehave came, sun ees more bright, air ees more good, tamale ees moresweet. Will Inez bring Mees Jane to see us to-day, Meest Weld?"
"Perhaps so," laughed Arthur; and then, as he turned to lead them to theolive trees, Louise, blushing prettily at the praise bestowed upon herdarling, pressed a piece of shining silver into old Miguel's hand--whichhe grasped with alacrity and another low bow.
"No doubt he's right about little Jane," remarked the major, when theyhad passed beyond earshot, "but I've a faint suspicion the old banditpraised her in order to get the money."
"Oh, no!" cried Louise; "he's really sincere. It is quite wonderful howcompletely all our Mexicans are wrapped up in baby. If Inez doesn'twheel the baby-cab over to the quarters every day, they come to thehouse in droves to inquire if 'Mees Jane' is well. Their love for her isalmost pathetic."
"Don't the fellows ever work?" inquired Uncle John.
"Yes, indeed," said Arthur. "Have you any fault to find with thecondition of this ranch? As compared with many others it is a model ofperfection. At daybreak the mules are cultivating the earth around thetrees; when the sun gets low the irrigating begins. We keep the harrowsand the pumps busy every day. But during the hours when the sun shinesbrightest the Mexicans do not love to work, and it is policy--so long asthey accomplish their tasks--to allow them to choose their own hours forlabor."
"They seem a shiftless lot," said the major.
"They're as good as their average type. But some--old Miguel, forinstance--are better than the ordinary. Miguel is really a clever andindustrious fellow. He has lived here practically all his life and knowsintimately every tree on the place."
"Did he serve the old Spanish don--Cristoval?" asked Beth.
"Yes; and his father before him. I've often wondered how old Miguel is.According to his own story he must be nearly a hundred; but that'sabsurd. Anyhow, he's a faithful, capable fellow, and rules the otherswith the rigor of an autocrat. I don't know what I should do withouthim."
"You seem to have purchased a lot of things with this ranch," observedUncle John. "A capital old mansion, a band of trained servants, and--aghost."
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Louise. "Major, did the ghost bother you lastnight?"
"Not to my knowledge," said the old soldier. "I was too tired to keepawake, you know; therefore his ghostship could not have disturbed mewithout being unusually energetic."
"Have you ever seen the ghost, Louise?" inquired Patsy.
"No, dear, nor even heard it. But Arthur has. It's in the blue room, youknow, near Arthur's study--one of the prettiest rooms in the house."
"That's why we gave it to the major," added Arthur. "Once or twice, whenI've been sitting in the study, at about midnight, reading and smokingmy pipe, I've heard some queer noises coming from the blue room; but Iattribute them to rats. These old houses are full of the pests and wecan't manage to get rid of them."
"I imagine the walls are not all solid," explained Louise, "for some ofthose on the outside are from six to eight feet in thickness, and itwould be folly to make them of solid adobe."
"As for that, adobe costs nothing," said Arthur, "and it would be farcheaper to make a solid wall than a hollow one. But between the blocksare a lot of spaces favored as residences by our enemies the rats, andthere they are safe from our reach."
"But the ghost?" demanded Patsy.
"Oh, the ghost exists merely in the minds of the simple Mexicans, overthere at the quarters. Most of them were here when that rascally oldCristoval died, and no money would hire one of them to sleep in thehouse. You see, they feared and hated the old fellow, who doubtlesstreated them cruelly. That is why we had to get our house servants froma distance, and even then we had some difficulty in quieting their fearswhen they heard the ghost tales. Little Inez," added Louise, "isespecially superstitious, and I'm sure if she were not so devoted tobaby she would have left us weeks ago."
"Inez told me this morning," said Beth, "that the major must be a verybrave man and possessed some charm that protected him from ghosts, or hewould never dare sleep in the blue room."
"I have a charm," declared the major, gravely, "and it's just commonsense."
But now they were among the graceful, broad-spreading olives, at thisseason barren of fruit but very attractive in their gray-green foliage.Arthur had to explain all about olive culture to the ignorant Easternersand he did this with much satisfaction because he had so recentlyacquired the knowledge himself.
"I can see," said Uncle John, "that your ranch is to be a great gamble.In good years, you win; a crop failure will cost you a fortune."
"True," admitted the young man; "but an absolute crop failure is unknownin this section. Some years are better than others, but all are goodyears."
It was quite a long tramp, but a very pleasant one, and by the time theyreturned to the house everyone was ready for luncheon, which a
waitedthem in the shady court, beside the splashing fountain. Patsy and Bethdemanded the baby, so presently Inez came with little Jane, and MildredTravers followed after. The two nurses did not seem on very friendlyterms, for the Mexican girl glared fiercely at her rival and Mildredreturned a basilisk stare that would have confounded anyone lessdefiant.
This evident hostility amused Patsy, annoyed Beth and worried Louise;but the baby was impartial. From her seat on Inez' lap little Janestretched out her tiny hands to Mildred, smiling divinely, and the nursetook the child in spite of Inez' weak resistance, fondling the littleone lovingly. There was a sharp contrast between Mildred's expert andadroit handling of the child and Inez' tender awkwardness, and this wasso evident that all present noticed it.
Perhaps Inez herself felt this difference as, sullen and jealous, sheeyed the other intently. Then little Jane transferred her favors to herformer nurse and held out her hands to Inez. With a cry that was half asob the girl caught the baby in her arms and held it so closely thatPatsy had hard work to make her give it up.
By the time Uncle John had finished his lunch both Patsy and Beth hadtaken turns holding the fascinating "Toodlums," and now the latterplunged Jane into Mr. Merrick's lap and warned him to be very careful.
Uncle John was embarrassed but greatly delighted. He cooed and cluckedto the baby until it fairly laughed aloud with glee, and then he madefaces until the infant became startled and regarded him with gravesuspicion.
"If you've done making an old fool of yourself, sir," said the majorseverely, "you'll oblige me by handing over my niece."
"_Your_ niece!" was the indignant reply; "she's nothing of the sort.Jane is _my_ niece."
"No more than mine," insisted the major; "and you're worrying her. Willyou hand her over, you selfish man, or must I take her by force?"
Uncle John reluctantly submitted to the divorce and the major handledthe baby as if she had been glass.
"Ye see," he remarked, lapsing slightly into his Irish brogue, as he wasapt to do when much interested, "I've raised a daughter meself, whichJohn Merrick hasn't, and I know the ways of the wee women. They knowvery well when a friend has 'em, and--Ouch! Leg-go, I say!"
Little Jane had his grizzly moustache fast in two chubby fists and themajor's howls aroused peals of laughter.
Uncle John nearly rolled from his chair in an ecstacy of delight and hecould have shaken Mildred Travers for releasing the grip of the babyfingers and rescuing the major from torture.
"Laugh, ye satyr!" growled the major, wiping the tears from his owneyes. "It's lucky you have no hair nor whiskers--any more than anegg--or you'd be writhing in agony before now." He turned to lookwonderingly at the crowing baby in Mildred's arms. "It's a femaleSandow!" he averred. "The grip of her hands is something marvelous!"