CHAPTER II
THE INVASION OF MILLVILLE
Over the brow of the little hill appeared a three-seated wagon, drawn bya pair of handsome sorrels, and in a moment the equipage halted besidethe sleeper.
"Oh, Thomas Hucks--you dear, dear Thomas!" cried a clear, eager voice,and out from the car rushed Miss Patricia Doyle, to throw her arms aboutthe neck of the old, stoop-shouldered and white-haired driver, whoseface was illumined by a joyous smile.
"Glad to see ye, Miss Patsy; right glad 'ndeed, child," returned the oldman. But others were waiting to greet him; pretty Beth De Graf anddainty Louise Merrick--not Louise "Merrick" any longer, though, butbearing a new name she had recently acquired--and demure Mary, Patsy'slittle maid and an old friend of Thomas Hucks', and Uncle John with hismerry laugh and cordial handshake and, finally, a tall and ratherdandified young man who remained an interested spectator in thebackground until Mr. Merrick seized and dragged him forward.
"Here's another for you to know, Thomas," said the little millionaire."This is the other half of our Louise--Mr. Arthur Weldon--and by and byyou can judge whether he's the better half or not."
The aged servant, hat in hand, made a respectful bow to Mr. Weldon. Hisfrank eyes swept the young man from head to foot but his smile was thesame as before.
"Miss Louise is wiser ner I be," said the old fellow simply; "I'm safeto trust to her jedgment, I guess."
There was a general laugh, at this, and they began to clamber aboard thewagon and to stow away beneath the seats the luggage the colored porterwas bringing out.
"Stop at the Junction House, Thomas," said Mr. Merrick as they movedaway.
"Nora has the breakfast all ready at home, sir," replied Thomas.
"Good for Nora! But we can't fast until we reach home--eight good milesof jolting--so we'll stop at the Junction House for a glass of Mrs.Todd's famous milk."
"Very good, sir."
"Is anyone coming for our trunks and freight? There's half a car oftruck to be carted over."
"Ned's on the way, sir; and he'll get the liveryman to help if he can'tcarry it all."
The Junction House was hidden from the station by the tiny hill, as werethe half dozen other buildings tributary to Chazy Junction. As the wagondrew up before the long piazza which extended along the front of thelittle frame inn they saw a man in shabby gray seated at a small tablewith some bread and a glass of milk before him. It was theirunrecognized guest of the night--the uninvited lodger on the rearplatform--but he did not raise his eyes or appear to notice the newarrivals.
"Mrs. Todd! Hey, Mrs. Todd!" called Uncle John. "Anybody milked the cowyet?"
A frowsy looking woman came out, all smiles, and nodded pleasantly atthe expectant group in the wagon. Behind her loomed the tall, lean formof Lucky Todd, the "proprietor," who was serious as a goat, which animalhe closely resembled in feature.
"Breakfas' all 'round, Mr. Merrick?" asked the woman.
"Not this time, Mrs. Todd. Nora has our breakfast waiting for us. But wewant some of your delicious milk to last us to the farm."
"Las' night's milkin's half cream by this time," she rejoined, as shebriskly reentered the house.
The man at the table held out his empty glass.
"Here; fill this up," he said to Lucky Todd.
The somber-faced proprietor turned his gaze from the Merrick group tothe stranger, eyed him pensively a moment and then faced the wagonagain. The man in gray got up, placed the empty glass in Todd's hand,whirled him around facing the door and said sternly:
"More milk!"
The landlord walked in like an automaton, and a suppressed giggle camefrom the girls in the wagon. Uncle John was likewise amused, and despitethe unknown's frazzled apparel the little millionaire addressed him inthe same tone he would have used toward an equal.
"Don't blame you, sir. Nobody ever tasted better milk than they have atthe Junction House."
The man, who had resumed his seat, stood up, took off his hat and bowed.But he made no reply.
Out came Mrs. Todd, accompanied by another frowsy woman. Between themthey bore a huge jug of milk, a number of thick glasses and a plate ofcrackers.
"The crackers come extry, Mr. Merrick," said the landlady, "but seein'as milk's cheap I thought you might like 'em."
The landlord now came out and placed the stranger's glass, about halffilled with milk, on the table before him. The man looked at it,frowned, and tossed off the milk in one gulp.
"More!" he said, holding out the glass.
Todd shook his head.
"Ain't no more," he declared.
His wife overheard him and pausing in her task of refilling the glassesfor the rich man's party she looked over her shoulder and said:
"Give him what he wants, Lucky."
The landlord pondered.
"Not fer ten cents, Nancy," he protested. "The feller said he wanted tencents wuth o' breakfas', an' by Joe he's had it."
"Milk's cheap," remarked Mrs. Todd. "It's crackers as is expensive thesedays. Fill up his glass, Lucky."
"Why is your husband called 'Lucky,' Mrs. Todd?" inquired Patsy, who wasenjoying the cool, creamy milk.
"'Cause he got me to manage him, I guess," was the laughing reply. "Toddain't much 'count 'nless I'm on the spot to order him 'round."
The landlord came out with the glass of milk but paused before he set itdown.
"Let's see your money," he said suspiciously.
It seemed to the girls, who were curiously watching the scene, that thetramp flushed under his bronzed skin; but without reply he searched ina pocket and drew out four copper cents, which he laid upon the table.After further exploration he abstracted a nickel from another pocket andpushed the coins toward the landlord.
"'Nother cent," said Todd.
Continued search seemed for a time hopeless, but at last, in quite anunexpected way, the man produced the final cent and on receiving it Toddset down the milk.
"Anything more, yer honor?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yes; you might bring me the morning paper," was the reply.
Everyone except Todd laughed frankly at this retort. Uncle John put twosilver dollars in Mrs. Todd's chubby hand and told Thomas to drive on.
"I dunno," remarked old Hucks, when they were out of earshot, "whetherthat feller's jest a common tramp or a workman goin' over to the papermill at Royal. Jedgin' from the fact as he had money I guess he's aworkman."
"Wrong, Thomas, quite wrong," said Beth, seated just behind him. "Didyou notice his hands?"
"No, Miss Beth."
"They were not rough and the fingers were slender and delicate."
"That's the mark of a cracksman," said Arthur Weldon, with a laugh. "Ifthere are any safes out here that are worth cracking, I'd say look outfor the gentleman."
"His face isn't bad at all," remarked Patsy, reflectively. "Isn't thereany grade between a workman and a thief?"
"Of course," asserted Mr. Merrick, in his brisk way. "This fellow,shabby as he looked, might be anything--from a strolling artist to agentleman down on his luck. But what's the news, Thomas? How are Etheland Joe?"
"Mr. an' Mrs. Wegg is quite comf't'ble, sir, thank you," replied oldHucks, with a show of eagerness. "Miss Ethel's gran'ther, ol' WillThompson, he's dead, you know, an' the young folks hev fixed up theThompson house like a palace. Guess ye'd better speak to 'em aboutspendin' so much money, Mr. Merrick; I'm 'fraid they may need it someday."
"Don't worry. They've a fine income for life, Thomas, and there will beplenty to leave to their children--if they have any. But tell me aboutthe mill at Royal. Where _is_ Royal, anyhow?"
"Four mile up the Little Bill Creek, sir, where the Royal Waterfall is.A feller come an' looked the place over las' year an' said the pineforest would grind up inter paper an' the waterfall would do thegrindin'. So he bought a mile o' forest an' built a mill, an' they dosay things is hummin' up to the new settlement. There's more'n twohundred hands a-workin' there, a'ready."
"Goodness
me!" cried Patsy; "this thing must have livened up sleepy oldMillville considerably."
"Not yet," said Hucks, shaking his head. "The comp'ny what owns the millkeeps a store there for the workmen, an' none of 'em come much toMillville. Our storekeepers is madder'n blazes about it; but fer my partI'm glad the two places is separated."
"Why?" asked Louise.
"They're a kinder tough lot, I guess. Turnin' pine trees inter papermus' be a job thet takes more muscle than brains. I don't see how it'sdone, at all."
"It's simple enough," said Mr. Merrick. "First the wood is ground intopulp, and then the pulp is run through hot rollers, coming out paper.It's a mighty interesting process, so some day we will all go to Royaland see the paper made."
"But not just yet, Uncle," remarked Patsy. "Let's have time to settledown on the farm and enjoy it. Oh, how glad I am to be back in thisrestful, sleepy, jumping-off-place of the world again! Isn't itdelightful, Arthur Weldon? Did you ever breathe such ozony, deliciousmountain air? And do you get the fragrance of the pine forests, andthe--the--"
"The bumps?" asked Arthur, as the wagon gave a jolt a bit more emphaticthan usual; "yes, Patsy dear, I get them all; but I won't pass judgmenton Millville and Uncle John's farm just yet. Are we 'most there?"
"We're to have four whole months of it," sighed Beth. "That ought toenable us to renew our youth, after the strenuous winter."
"Rubbish!" said Uncle John. "You haven't known a strenuous moment, mydears, and you're all too young to need renewals, anyhow. But if you canfind happiness here, my girls, our old farm will become a paradise."
These three nieces of Mr. Merrick were well worth looking at. Louise,the eldest, was now twenty--entirely too young to be a bride; but havingdecided to marry Arthur Weldon, the girl would brook no interferenceand, having a will of her own, overcame all opposition. Her tall,slender form was exceedingly graceful and willowy, her personalitydainty and refined, her temperament under ordinary conditionsessentially sweet and agreeable. In crises Louise developed considerablecharacter, in strong contrast with her usual assumption of well-bredcomposure. That the girl was insincere in little things and cultivated apolished manner to conceal her real feelings, is undeniable; but inspite of this she might be relied upon to prove loyal and true inemergencies.
Patricia Doyle was more than two years the junior of her cousin Louiseand very unlike her. Patsy's old father, Major Gregory Doyle, said "shewore her heart on her sleeve," and the girl was frank and outspoken to afault. Patsy had no "figure" to speak of, being somewhat dumpy in build,nor were her piquant features at all beautiful. Her nose tipped at theend, her mouth was broad and full-lipped and her complexion badlyfreckled. But Patsy's hair was of that indescribable shade that hoversbetween burnished gold and sunset carmine. "Fiery red" she was wont todescribe it, and most people considered it, very justly, one of her twoclaims to distinction. Her other admirable feature was a pair ofmagnificent deep blue eyes--merry, mischievous and scintillating asdiamonds. Few could resist those eyes, and certain it is that PatsyDoyle was a universal favorite and won friends without a particle ofeffort.
The younger of the three nieces, Elizabeth De Graf, was as beautiful agirl as you will often discover, one of those rarely perfect creationsthat excite our wonder and compel admiration--as a beautiful picture ora bit of statuary will. Dreamy and reserved in disposition, she lackedthe graciousness of Louise and Patsy's compelling good humor; yet youmust not think her stupid or disagreeable. Her reserve was reallydiffidence; her dreamy, expressionless gaze the result of a seriousnature and a thoughtful temperament. Beth was quite practical andmatter-of-fact, the reverse of Patsy's imaginative instincts or Louise'saffected indifference. Those who knew Beth De Graf best loved herdearly, but strangers found her hard to approach and were often repulsedby her unresponsive manner. Underneath all, the girl was a real girl,with many splendid qualities, and Uncle John relied upon Beth'sstability more than on that of his other two nieces. Her early life hadbeen a stormy and unhappy one, so she was but now developing her realnature beneath the warmth of her uncle's protecting love.
Topping the brow of a little hill the wagon came to a smooth downwardgrade where the road met the quaint old bridge that spanned Little BillCreek, beside which stood the antiquated flour and feed mill that hadgiven Millville its name. The horses were able to maintain their brisktrot across the bridge and through the main street of the town, whichwas merely a cluster of unimposing frame buildings, that lined eitherside of the highway for the space of an ordinary city block. Then theywere in the wilds again and rattling over another cobblestone trail.
"This 'ere country's nuth'n' but pine woods 'n' cobblestones," sighedold Hucks, as the horses subsided to a walk. "Lor' knows what would 'a'happened to us without the trees! They saves our grace, so's to speak."
"I think the scenery is beautiful," observed Patsy. "It's so differentfrom other country places."
"Not much farming around here, I imagine," said Arthur Weldon.
"More than you'd think, sir," replied Thomas. "There's certain crops asthrives in stony land, an' a few miles north o' here, towardsHuntingdon, the soil's mighty rich 'n' productive. Things ain't never asbad as they seem in this world, sir," he added, turning his persistentlysmiling face toward the young man.
Mr. Merrick sat beside the driver on the front seat. The middle seat wasoccupied by Patsy and Beth, between whom squeezed little Mary, themaid. Louise and Arthur had the back seat.
A quarter of a mile beyond the town they came to a sort of lane runningat right angles with the turnpike, and down this lane old Hucks turnedhis team. It seemed like a forbidding prospect, for ahead of them loomedonly a group of tall pines marking the edge of the forest, yet as theycame nearer and made a little bend in the road the Wegg farm suddenlyappeared in view. The house seemed so cozy and homelike, set upon itsgreen lawn with the tall pines for a background, that the girls, whoknew the place well, exclaimed with delight, and Arthur, who now saw itfor the first time, nodded his head approvingly.
Uncle John was all excitement over the arrival at his country home. Anold fashioned stile was set in a rail fence which separated the groundsfrom the lane, and Hucks drew up the wagon so his passengers could allalight upon the step of the stile. Patsy was out at a bound. Louisefollowed more deliberately, assisted by her boy husband, and Beth camemore sedately yet. But Uncle John rode around to the barn with Thomas,being eager to see the cows and pigs and poultry with which theestablishment was liberally stocked.
The house was of two stories, the lower being built of cobblestones andthe upper of pine slabs; but it had been artistically done and theeffect was delightful. It was a big, rambling dwelling, and Mr. Merrickhad furnished the old place in a lavish manner, so that his nieces wouldlack no modern comfort when they came there to spend a summer.
On the porch stood an old woman clothed in a neat gingham dress andwearing a white apron and cap. Her pleasant face was wreathed in smilesas she turned it toward the laughing, chattering group that came up thepath. Patsy spied her and rushed up to give old Nora a hug and kiss, andthe other two girls saluted the blind woman with equal cordiality, forlong ago she had won the love and devotion of all three. Arthur, who hadheard of Nora, pressed her hand and told her she must accept him asanother of her children, and then she asked for Mr. Merrick and ran into get the breakfast served. For, although blind, old Nora was far frombeing helpless, and the breakfast she had prepared in anticipation oftheir arrival was as deliciously cooked as if she had been able to useher eyes as others did.