CHAPTER XIV.
THE REAL MARY.
"Please tell Uncle to come up again just for a minute, Liza. Don't lethim go back to the office until----"
"Why, Miss May-ree, I done t'ought Massa Frank wah up heah wif yo' alldis time. His lunch am gittin' cold, sottin' dah on de table, an' oleSusie am on de rampage, sho' nuff. She jes' done tol' dis yeah chile datshe am plumb tiahed out cookin' fo' a gemplum what doan' eat nuffin butcoffee, coffee, coffee, ebery single meal. It's 'bout time yo' put astop to dat, Miss May-ree. Yo' is de only one dat kin. Yo' ma nebah'lowed Massa Frank to drink coffee dat-a-way, no-how."
"But--but, Liza,--Uncle was here for just a little minute, and--and youdon't mean that he hasn't eaten his luncheon yet? He will never havetime to do it now. Please see if he is in his room."
"No, Mary, your uncle went down stairs when he left you. I heard thefront door close a few moments later, so I fear that he has gone."
"Laws a massy! Dis yeah chile bettah keep out'n dat kitchen fo' de res'ob _dis_ aftahnoon, sho's yo' born!"
"O Liza, Liza! look everywhere downstairs to see if Uncle isn't there,_please_! What shall I do if he has gone--gone without a bite to eat!"
"But dat's persackly what he's done did, Miss May-ree, kase I'se lookedfo' him ebery place; an' dat's what he's been adoin' ebery day, honey;and dat's what fo' ole Susie am so mad; an' dat's what fo' I done saidyo's de only one what kin put a stop to it. But dah, honey, doan' yo'fret yo' poah li'l haid 'bout it no-how. Dis crazy niggah ain't got noright to tell yo' nuffin 'bout it."
"Yes, you have, you have, Liza! Oh, I wish you had told me the veryfirst day! Please go right down to Susie, and ask her to cook everythingUncle likes best for dinner this evening; and tell her that he will eatthem--every bite."
"Yas'm, Miss May-ree, I sho'ly will do dat. But ef'n ole Susie am gwineto cook _eberyt'ing_ what Massa Frank laks bes', honey, I reckon datgemplum's got to wait mighty late fo' his dinnah; kase yo' know dey's apowahful lot ob t'ings what Massa Frank laks bes'; dey sahtinly is!"
"Then pick out the ones he likes the _very best_, Liza,--the very,_very_ best. Come back after while, and I shall help you to rememberthem."
"Yas'm, Miss May-ree, yas'm," and Liza hurried down to restore peace inthe kitchen.
"O Sister, Sister, _Sister_! What shall I _do_! What _shall_ I do! Oh, Iam bad--_bad_!"
"Come, dear, come! Crying will not mend matters. You did not know thatyou were doing any harm, and you have already begun to repair it; so letus plan the next step."
"But I must tell Uncle--oh, I don't know _what_, but I must tell him_something_! Do you think he is at his office yet? Will you telephone tohim for me, Sister?"
"He has scarcely had time to reach the office, dear; but in ten orfifteen minutes, I shall call him and give him any message you wish tosend. In the meantime, you had better take the second step, which is todrink this broth. Cold broth is not very tempting."
Eagerly, the little girl emptied the bowl.
"I shall take the egg and milk after while if you think I ought to,Sister. I am _so_ tired of eggs and milk, but----"
"If you take them faithfully for another day or two, I am sure theDoctor will order something new for you."
"If--if I took them about three times this afternoon, do you think Icould have some meat soon? Meat makes people strong, doesn't it,Sister?"
"So do eggs and milk," laughed the nurse. "But three times in oneafternoon would be too much for you. Now, I am going to darken the room;and while you are taking your nap, I shall telephone to your uncle. Forone thing, I shall tell him that he will find our patient better thisevening."
"Oh, yes, Sister! And ask him _please_ to go to the hotel across thestreet to get his dinner right now--not luncheon,--_dinner_.And--and--tell him I didn't know----"
"I shall explain that part, darling; and I have just thought of a planwhich I am sure you will like. Go to sleep, now; for the sooner you dothat, the earlier you will wake to hear about it."
When Mary opened her eyes, she was surprised to find the room filledwith the rosy glow of the shaded lamp.
"Is it night, Sister? Has Uncle come?"
"No, dear, it is only half past four; but the afternoon has been so darkthat Liza and I needed the light to begin to carry out my plan."
"Oh, please tell me what it is, Sister. The very idea for me to sleepall afternoon!"
"I am glad you did so, because you will be fresh for the evening. Howwould you like to invite your uncle to have dinner up here?"
Mary clapped her hands, and Sister Julia continued, "I took it forgranted that you would approve of my plan, and called Liza to help mecarry in this table from your playroom. We shall place it close to yourbed. She has gone for the tablecloth and dishes."
"Sister, please ask her to use my great-grandmother's set--the ones withthe plain gold band and the beautiful C on them. Uncle likes those best.And flowers--we must have flowers."
"The roses your uncle brought at noon will be just the thing."
"Roses? Oh, now I remember--and I hardly looked at them. Poor Uncle! Isthere a pretty bud among them, Sister?--Please cut off part of the stem,and Liza will put it on his dresser for him to wear. _Sister!_ wouldn'tit be fun to write him an invitation exactly like the kind Mother sendswhen she has a dinner party? I have a lovely box of paper with M. S. inblue and gold up in the corner. We shall seal it and paste an old stampon it and make a postmark just as the girls at Maryvale did with theletters they sent me by Aunt Mary. Liza will lay it on the hall tablewhere Uncle will see it the minute he comes in."
Sister Julia seated herself at Mary's little desk and soon had thefollowing invitation written:
Miss Mary Selwyn requests the pleasure of Doctor Francis P. Carlton'scompany at dinner on Thursday, November eighteenth, at six o'clock.
"That is exactly what Mother says in her invitations. Did--did Uncle sayhe would go to dinner when you telephoned, Sister?"
"Yes, dear, your message made him so happy that he said he would order aThanksgiving dinner a week ahead of time."
"That _is_ so, isn't it, Sister? A week from to-day will beThanksgiving. And Father and Mother and the babies won't be here; andthey will be away for Christmas and New Year's Day and Mother'sbirthday and Valentine's Day and Father's birthday and for Easter and mybirthday and Fourth of July and Uncle's birthday and the twinnies'----"Mary's voice broke in a sob.
"But think of all the happy days that you will spend with them next yearand for many, many years to come, dear. You think the babies very sweetand cunning now, and so they are; but in another year, you will findthem far more so. They will be learning to talk and will keep you verybusy running after them to see that they do not get into mischief orfall down the stairs. You will be a great help to Aunt Mandy then, forshe is scarcely spry enough to run after one baby,--to say nothing oftwo. So just think of the happy times ahead, dear, and you will besurprised to find how quickly this year will slip by. Come, dry youreyes. It will never do to have your uncle find you crying. Can you thinkof anything else that will help to make our surprise for him a greatersuccess?"
"Don't you think I ought to dress up for this dinner party, Sister?"
"Beyond washing your face and brushing your hair, I cannot very well seehow a little girl sick in bed can dress up."
"You could do up my hair the way mother wears hers, and--and--oh, I havea beautiful new ribbon, pale blue with tiny white rosebuds sprinkledover it. We can twist it and put it around my head like a wreath, withthe bow sticking up at one side. Let me see what else we can do--I know!In the middle drawer of the dresser, there is a cute little dressingsack with rosebuds made of white satin ribbon down the front instead ofbuttons. I just have to loop cords over them."
When Mary was "dressed up" to her taste, the nurse insisted that shemust lean back against the pillows to rest.
"You must not overdo, or you will be worn out by the time your unclecomes home."
The little girl gave a sigh of content.
/> "Sister, you have made me so happy. I thought I could never be happyagain, _never_!"
"I think you have done a great deal toward making yourself happy, Mary.You must expect to have many lonely hours; but at such times, you shouldtry to remember how very, very much worse things could be. Suppose youwere in the place of a little girl I heard of not long ago, whosefather, mother, brothers, and sister all died of black diphtheriawithin two weeks. She had no good, kind uncle or other relatives to lookafter her, so there was nothing to do but to place her in an orphanasylum."
Mary was very quiet for some time. Then Liza came in to set the table.
"Wal, Miss May-ree, what yo' reckon Massa Frank gwine t' eat fo' hisdinnah, no-how? Dem red roses, or meat an' 'tatahs an' veg'tubbles? Demflowahs am _mighty_ putty, honey; but ef dey's gwine to sot lak dat inde middle ob de table, dey won't be no room fo' de t'ings to eat; and' Ireckon dis yeah chile 'll hab to sot dem on chairs, he! he! he!"
"We can place this small table just behind that one, Liza, and stand theflowers on it."
"Dat's de ticket, Sistah! 'Peahs to me yo' alwuz knows jes' de rightt'ing."
"What is it, dear?" asked the nurse, for Mary was looking about the roomas if in search of something.
"My new doll, Sister, please. Do you know where she is? Uncle hasn'tseen her. I couldn't bear to look at her after the babies had gone."
"I put her in the high chair in your playroom, Mary."
"I'se gwine to fotch her fo' yo', honey. She am de lubliest doll-babyyo' has, she sahtinly am! She's done fooled dis yeah chile 'bout fawtytimes, sottin' dah smilin' wif her li'l hands reachin' out fo' me to tekher."
"Please bring the chair, too, Liza. She can sit right by the bed."
The maid soon returned.
"Dah she am! _Ain't_ she jes' too lubly! What's her name, Miss May-ree?"
"Amelia Anabelle."
"Laws a massy, but dat do sound scrumptious!" and Liza turned to thesetting of the table.
Mary rested her hand for a moment on the back of the high chair, and themaid whirled about to gaze at the crying, kicking Amelia Anabelle.
"Why--why--what--pull yo' li'l hand away, Miss May-ree! Pull it away!Doan' yo' tech dat t'ing! Somebudy done put de conjure on dat doll!" andLiza, her eyes bulging, backed quickly toward the door.
"No, no, Liza, don't be afraid. She will be good. See?"
Amelia Anabelle was again smiling; but Liza stood in the hall, well outof harm's way, crying hoarsely, "Doan' yo' tech it, Miss May-ree, honey.It am a ha'nt!"
"Oh, dear, no!" laughed the little girl. "Father wouldn't give me ahaunted doll. Who ever heard of a haunted doll, anyway? Please don't goaway, Liza. Come and finish setting the table."
"Not while dat doll am sottin' dah, Miss May-ree!"
"But the doll can't do anything unless I push a button in the back ofher neck. You are not afraid of the electric lights, are you?"
"Co'se I isn't, Miss May-ree."
"Well, you push a button to turn them on and off, and I push a button toturn my doll's head around and show her other face. She has two faces,you see. That's all."
"I nebah done laked two-face folkses. Miss May-ree, an' I'se not gwineto begin to lak dem now," and Liza could not be coaxed back until SisterJulia had carried the doll into the next room.
Presently, a cheery whistle broke the stillness of the house.
"There's Uncle, Sister! Please peep over the banisters to see what hedoes when he finds the invitation. Oh, he sees it!" for the merry timehad suddenly ceased.
"I wish you could have seen his face while he read it, Mary," said thenurse a few moments later. "He had a great laugh over the stamp andpostmark. Then he started upstairs at such a rate that I was almostcaught in the act. I heard him say, 'Well, she won't get ahead of methere!' So what he is up to is hard to tell."
"He is whistling, 'There's a Good Time Coming, Boys!' and there _is_,Sister! Why--why, he has gone to his room!"
"You surely would not expect him to pay you a call when he is coming todine with you. Perhaps he, too, thinks that he should dress up."