CHAPTER V
DOROTHY ENTERTAINS
Dorothy's punishment for her unwise purchase was to wear the white shoescontinually. This was only possible by slitting their tops in variousplaces, which not only spoiled their beauty but was a constant "lecture"to their wearer; who remarked:
"One thing, mother Martha, I've learned by 'shopping'--the vanity ofvanity! I've always longed for pretty things, but--call _them_ pretty?Doesn't matter though, does it? if we're really going to move andeverything to be so changed. When we live in the country may I have allthe flowers I want?"
"Yes," answered the matron, absently. Although this was Sunday, a day onwhich she faithfully tried to keep her mind free from weekday cares, shecould not banish them now. Instead of going to church she was to visitthe hospital and spend the morning with her husband. Dorothy was toattend Sunday school, as usual, wearing the slitted shoes, for thesimple reason that she now possessed no others. Afterward, she mightinvite Mabel Bruce to stay with her, and they were to keep house tillits mistress's return.
"I hope you'll have a very happy day, dear. After I leave John, though Ishall stay with him as long as I am allowed, I must go to see AuntChloe. There'll be no time for visits during the week, and besides,she'll want to hear about everything at first hand. Poor old creature!It'll be hard for her to part with her 'boy' and I mustn't neglect her.You needn't cook any dinner, for there's a good, cold lunch. I made anice custard pie for you, last night, after you were asleep. There'splenty of bread and butter, an extra bottle of milk, and you may cut afew thin slices of the boiled ham. Be sure to do it carefully, for wewill have to live upon it for as long as possible. If you tell Mrs.Bruce that the invitation is from me I think she'll let Mabel come.Don't leave the house without locking up tight, and after you come backfrom Sunday school don't leave it at all. Have you learned your lesson?Already? My! but you are quick at your books! Good-bye. I hope you'llhave a happy day, and you may expect me sometime in the afternoon."
"But, mother, wait! There's a cluster of my fairy-roses out in bloom andI want to send them to father. A deep red sort that hasn't blossomedbefore and that we've been watching so long. I'll fill it with kisses,tell him, and almost want to get half-sick again, myself, to be back inhospital with him. Aren't you going to take him any of that nice ham?You know he loves it so."
"No, dear. I was specially told not to bring food. The nurses will givehim all he needs and that's better for him than anything we outsidefolks could fix. Afterwards--Well, let us hope we shall still havedecent stuff to eat! Now I'm off. Good-bye. Be careful and don't getinto any sort of foolishness. Good-bye."
Dorothy gazed after her mother as she disappeared and felt a strangedesire to call her back, or beg to go with her. The house was so emptyand desolate without the cheerful presence of the postman. Their Sundaymornings had used to be so happy. Then he was at liberty to walk withher in the park near-by, if it were cold weather; or if the lovelyseason for gardening, as now they repaired to the little back yard whichtheir united labors had made to "blossom like the rose."
John Chester had bought No. 77 Brown Street. It was not yet much morethan half paid for, but he considered it his. Martha was the mostprudent of housekeepers and could make a little money go a long way; sothat, even though his salary was small, they managed each month to layaside a few dollars toward reducing the mortgage which still remained onthe property. But he had not waited to be wholly out of debt to beginhis improvements, and the first of these had been to turn the bareground behind the house into a charming garden. Not an inch of thespace, save that required for paths and a tiny shed for ash and garbagecans, was left untilled; and as Baltimore markets afford most beautifulplants at low rates he had gathered a fine collection. Better thanthat, there were stables at the rear, instead of the negro-alleys whichintersect so many of the city blocks, and from these he not onlyobtained extra soil but stirred his stable friends to emulate hisindustry. Vines and ivies had been planted on the stable walls as wellas on his own back fence, so that, instead of looking out upon uglybrick and whitewash, the neighbors felt that they possessed a sort ofprivate park behind their dwellings, and all considered father John apublic benefactor and rejoiced in the results of his efforts. Many ofthem, too, were stirred--like the stable-men--to attempt some gardeningon their own account, and this was not only good for them but made theone-hundred-block of Brown Street quite famous in the town.
Dorothy had visited the garden that morning before breakfast and hadfound the new roses which were the latest addition to their stock. Shehad also shed a few tears over them, realizing that he who had plantedthem would watch them no more.
"Dear little 'fairies'! seems if you just blossom for nothing, now!"she had said to them, then had resolved that they should go to him sincehe could not come to them; and, having cut them, she fled the garden,missing him more there than anywhere.
Once Dorothy C. would have been ashamed to appear among her classmates,in their Sunday attire, wearing her slitted shoes; but to-day her mindwas full of other, far more important, matters. So she bore theirraillery with good nature, laughed by way of answer, and was soimpatient to be at home, where she could discuss all with her chum, thatshe could hardly wait to obtain Mrs. Bruce's consent to the visit. So,as soon as the two girls were cozily settled in the little parlor, sheexclaimed:
"Mabel Bruce! I've something perfectly wonderful to tell you. Do youknow--_I'm an_--_heiress_!"
"No. I don't know, nor you either," returned Mabel, coolly; rocking herplump body to and fro in the postman's own chair, and complacentlysmoothing her ruffles. Then she leaned forward, glanced from her ownfeet to Dorothy's, and carefully dusted her white shoes with herhandkerchief.
The little hostess laughed, but remarked, a trifle tartly:
"That's what I call nasty-nice. Next time you'll be wiping your nose onthat same thing and I'd rather have the dust on my shoes than in mynostrils. But no matter. I've so many things to tell you I don't knowwhere to begin!"
"Don't you? Well, then, you're such a terrible talker when you getstarted, s'pose we have our dinner first. I'm terrible hungry."
"Hungry, Mabel Bruce? Already? Didn't you have your breakfast?"
"Course, I did. But a girl can't eat once and make it last all day, canshe?"
"I reckon _you_ can't. You're the greatest eater I ever did see. All thegirls say so. That's why you're always put on the refreshment committeeat our picnics. Even Miss Georgia says: 'If you want to be sure ofenough provision make Mabel chairman.' A chairman is the boss of anyparticular thing, if you don't know:" instructed this extremely frankhostess.
"Oh! course I know. You just said I was one and folks most gen'ally knowwhat they are themselves, I guess," answered the plumber's daughter,without resentment. What anybody _said_ didn't matter to phlegmaticMabel so long as their _doing_ agreed with her desires. She was fond ofDorothy C. Oh! yes, she was sincerely fond as well as proud! TheChesters were bringing up their daughter very nicely, her motherdeclared, and that Dorothy had the prettiest manners of all the girlswho came to their house. Mabel had her own opinion of those manners, ofwhich she had just had a specimen, but she never contradicted her motherand not often her playmates. As a rule she was too lazy, and was onlymoved to dispute a statement when it was really beyond belief--like thatof her chum's having suddenly become an "heiress." Heiresses were rich.Mabel wasn't very wise but she knew that, and witness Dorothy's raggedshoes. Heiress? Huh! It was more sensible to return to the subject ofdinner, for the visitor had sampled Mrs. Chester's cooking before nowand knew it to be excellent. So she rose and started for the kitchen,and with an exclamation of regret the hostess followed the guest, thoughcautioning her:
"If we eat our lunch now, at a little after eleven o'clock, you mustn'texpect another dinner at one. My mother didn't say I could have twomeals, so you better eat dreadful slow and make it last."
"All right. I will. Maybe, too, I'll go home by our own dinner time.Sundays, that isn't till after two o'clock, '
cause my mother goes tochurch and has to cook it afterward. Sunday is the only day my father ishome to dinner, so he wants a big one and mother gets it for him. Yourfather's home Sundays, too, isn't he?"
"He--he was--He used----" began Dorothy, then with a sudden burst oftears turned away and hid her face in her hands.
Warm-hearted, if always-hungry, Mabel instantly threw her arms about herfriend's waist and tried to comfort her with loving kisses and theassurance:
"He will be again, girlie. Don't you worry. Folks go to hospitals allthe time and come back out of them. My father, he had the typhoid fever,last year, and he went. Don't you remember? and how nice all theneighbors were to me and ma. And now he's as strong--as strong! So'llyour father be, too, and go whistling round the block just like he usedto did. Don't cry, Dorothy C. It makes your eyes all funny and--andbesides, if you don't stop I'll be crying myself, in a minute, and Idon't want to. _I_ look perfectly horrid when I cry, I get so red andpuffy, and I shouldn't like to cry on this dress. It's just been done upand ma says I've got to keep it clean enough to wear four Sundays, it'ssuch a job to iron all the ruffles."
Despite her loneliness Dorothy laughed. There was a deal ofconsideration for herself in Mabel's remarks, yet her sympathy wassincere as her affection long-proved. She had been the first playmate ofthe little foundling, and it was her belief--gathered from that of herparents--that the Chesters' adopted child would turn out to be of goodbirth, if ever the truth were known. In any case, she was the prettiestand cleverest girl in school, and Mabel was proud to be the one selectedthis morning as a companion.
"O you funny Mabel!" cried Dorothy. "You're sorry for both of us, aren'tyou! Well, come along. We started to get lunch and to talk. You go tothe ice-box and get the things, while I set the table. Wait! Put on mytie-before, to keep your dress clean. Good thing your sleeves are short.Arms'll wash easier than ruffles. Hurry up--you to eat and I to talk."
Very shortly they were engaged in these congenial matters, though Mabelalmost forgot that she was hungry in her astonishment at Dorothy'sopening statement:
"We're going to move. I guess this is about the last time you'll evercome to this house to dinner."
"Going--to--move!" ejaculated Mabel, with her mouth so full of pie thatshe could hardly speak.
"Yes. We've got to pack up this very week."
"Where to? Who's going to live here? Who told you? Why?" demanded Mabel,hastening to get in as many questions as she could, during the intervalof arranging a sandwich for herself.
"I don't--know! Why I never thought to ask, but I know it's true becauseit was my mother told me. 'Into the country,' she said, 'cause thehospital folks say that's the only thing for my father to do if he wantsto get well. And of course he wants. We all want, more than anythingelse in the world. So, that's why, and that's the first piece of news.And say, Mabel, maybe your folks'll let you come and see me sometimes.That is, if my folks ask you," she added, with cautious afterthought.
"Maybe! Wouldn't that be just lovely? We'd go driving in a littleT-cart, all by ourselves, with a dear little pony to haul us, and--andpeaches and plums and strawberries and blackberries--Um!" exclaimed theprospective guest, compressing her lips as if she were already tastingthese delights.
"I--don't--know. Perhaps, we would. If we had the pony, and the cart,and were let. That's a lot of 'ifs' to settle first."
"Why, of course. I was in the country once, two whole weeks. It was to abig house where my father was putting the plumbing in order for thefamily and the family had gone away while he was doing it. It was therehe got the typhoid fever, and they went away because they didn't want toget it. They left some 'coons' to do the cooking and told my father hecould bring me and ma, and we could have a vacation in a cottage on theplace. So we did; and the man, the colored one, that took care of thehorses used to hitch the pony up to the T-cart and me and ma rode outevery day. Course, if you live in the country you'll have to have apony. How else'd you go around? There wasn't any street cars to thatcountry, 'at ever I saw, and folks can't walk all the roads there are.Pooh! You see, I've been and you haven't, and that's the difference."
"Yes, you've been and I haven't, but, Mabel Bruce, I know more aboutthings that grow than you do, for I know--even in Lexington Market--youdon't get strawberries and peaches at the same time. So you needn'texpect all those good things when you come. You'll have to put up withpart at a time, with whatever happens to be in our garden. If we have agarden! And as for ponies, our house in the country won't be a big one,like yours was, that much I know, too. We haven't any money, hardly. Mymother Martha was crying about that yesterday, though she didn't know Isaw her till I asked and after I'd spent all those two dollars for thesesilly shoes. Mabel Bruce, don't you ever go buy shoes too small for you.Umm. I tell you if you do your feet'll hurt you worse than my head didafter I banged it--the dog banged it--on Mrs. Cecil's stoop. Isn't she afunny old woman? My father thinks she is the wisest one he knows, butI--I--Well, it doesn't count what I think. Only if I was as rich as she,and I expect I will be sometime, I wouldn't keep Great Dane dogs to jumpon little girls like she does. Have some more ham, Mabel?"
The mere thought of her prospective wealth had increased Dorothy'shospitality--at her mother's expense: but to her surprise her guestreplied:
"No--I guess--I guess I can't. Not 'less you've got some mustard mixedsomewhere, to eat on it. I've et----"
"Eaten," corrected her classmate, who was considered an expert ingrammar.
"Et-ten about all I can hold without--without mustard, to sort of seasonit. Ma always has mustard to put on her ham; and yours is--is gettingsort of--bitter," replied Mabel, leaning back in her chair. She alwaysate rapidly--"stuffed," as her father reproved her--and to-day she hadoutdone herself. The food was delicious. Mrs. Chester was too thrifty ahousewife ever to "spoil" anything, no matter how inexpensive a dish,and in her judgment, boiled ham was a luxury, to be partaken ofsparingly and with due appreciation, never "gobbled."
Therefore it was with positive consternation that Dorothy's thoughtscame back to practical things and to the joint which she had placedbefore her guest, allowing her to carve. Though she had herself barelytasted the morsel placed upon her own plate, being too much engaged intalking, she now perceived that Mabel had done more than justice to herlunch. So it was with a cry of real distress that she snatched the dishfrom the table, exclaiming:
"Well, I guess you don't need mustard to sharpen your appetite, yougreedy thing! Beg pardon. That was a nasty thing to say to--to company,and I'm sorry I said it. But mother told me we had to live on that hammost the week, she'd be so much too busy to cook and--Why, Mabel Bruce!You've eaten almost half that pie, too! Hmm. I guess you can staycontented the rest the day. You won't need to go home to yourtwo-o'clock dinner!"
No offense was intended or received. These two small maids had beenaccustomed, from infancy, to utter frankness with one another, and withperfect amiability the guest replied:
"Maybe I do eat a little too much. Ma thinks I do, sometimes, and pasays that's the reason I'm so fat. I'd rather not be fat. I'd like to beas slim as you are, Dorothy C. Ma says you've got such a pretty figure't you look nice in anything. Well, I guess since I've got to keep mydress so clean for so long, I won't offer to help do the dishes. I'll gosit in the parlor and take care of the front of the house."
With that Miss Mabel took off her friend's "tie-before," a big ginghamapron which covered all her skirts, and hung it on its nail, thenretreated to the postman's rocker, at perfect peace with herself and allthe world.
Not so Dorothy C. She looked after her chum with a contempt that was asnew as it was uncomfortable. She had promised herself a real treat indiscussing her own affairs--for the first time in her life becomeimportant ones--with this reliable confidante, but now she was bitterlydisappointed. "Mabel is selfish, but Mabel is truthful. She never speaksill of another and she always keeps her word:" had been Miss Georgia'sdecision once, when some class matters had gone wrong and the plumber'sdaug
hter had been accused of "tattling." To this Dorothy now added: "AndMabel is a regular, gluttonous simpleton. She isn't really interestedin anybody except--Mabel!"
With this uncharitable sentiment, the little hostess proceeded to clearaway; and did this with so much vim that she dropped a tumbler and brokeit. This was sufficient to calm her anger and turn what was left of itagainst her own carelessness, anticipating her mother's reproof. Shefinished her task very quietly, now, and then repaired to the parlor,where she found Mabel had fallen asleep in the rocker.
Also, at that moment, there sauntered past the windows a man who peeredthrough them with considerable curiosity: and who at sight of Dorothy C.stopped sauntering, lifted his eyebrows questioningly, and, turningaround, walked back to the steps.
Dorothy's heart almost choked her, it so suddenly began to beatviolently, while a chill ran through her whole body, and made her recalla saying of old Aunt Chloe that "when a body turns all goose-flesh it'sa sign somebody is walking over her, or his, grave." Father John laughedat this superstition as he did at many another of the dear old aunt whohad "raised" him, an orphan; and had he been present Dorothy would havelaughed with him. But she didn't laugh now; though she was presentlycalm enough to review the situation and to decide that none could bebetter. Also, that she must, at once, get rid of Mabel Bruce. For thiswas the same man who had appeared before her, on the previous morning,and had, at first startled, then profoundly interested her. He hadimposed secrecy upon her; at least secrecy as far as her parents wereconcerned, though she had meant to tell Mabel all that he had told her.She didn't like secrets. She hated them! Yet if they were to benefitthose whom she loved better than herself she was willing to keepthem--for a time.
In another moment she had roused her visitor by a strong shake of thepretty, plump shoulder under the lace-trimmed frock, and had said,rather loudly:
"Mabel, if you're going home to dinner, you'd better go now.Because--because I have some business to attend to, and I shall have tosee the gentleman alone."
She felt that though her words might be rude--she wouldn't like to besent home, herself, from a visit--yet her manner was beautifullygrown-up and dignified; and, as Mabel obediently vanished, "MissChester" bade the gentleman waiting outside to enter.