CHAPTER II
THE LANDLADIES AND A NEW ACQUAINTANCE
"This is a long quarter of a mile," said Nan, trying to keep up with hermore athletic sisters.
"The agent told us a quarter of a mile, but I reckon he meant as thecrow flies. He did not allow for all the twistings and turnings of thislane," laughed Helen.
"It is a very pretty walk, anyhow, and I'm glad we are not so close tothe track because of Bobby," said the philosophic Nan.
"Shucks! You needn't be a-thinkin' I can't find my way back to that oldstation," said that young hopeful. "I wisht it was barefoot time and Iwould wade in that branch."
They were crossing a pretty little stream that intersected the road. Ofcourse Bobby took occasion to slip off the stepping-stones and get hisfoot wet.
"S'long as one is wet I reckon I might as well get th' other one wet,too," and he stepped boldly into the stream. "Sqush! Sqush! Ain't this agrand and glorious feeling?"
"Oh, Bobby!" chorused his sisters.
"'Tain't gonter make no diffunce! My 'ployer says sech things as thistoughen kids."
Bobby always called Dr. Wright his employer, as it had been his habit togo with that young physician while he was making his professional calls,his duties being to hold out his arm when they were turning corners orpreparing to stop; and to sit in the car and guard his 'ployer'sproperty from the depredations of hoodlums and micks.
"I don't think some kids need toughening," said Nan, trying to looksevere.
"Yes'n I gotter joke on you, too! They was a pretty near grown-up boy onthe train wanted to know what yo' name was. I was jawin' the inductoran' the boy comed and plunked hissef down by me an' he axed me what wasmy name and where I was a-gointer, an' was all'n you my aunts or what.He was so busy a-findin' out he come near a-missing his gettin' offplace. He lives jus' befo' our gettin' off place."
"Oh, that must have been the good-looking boy sitting opposite us, justbehind Mother and Father! You noticed him, Douglas, didn't you?" askedHelen.
"Well, he wasn't a-noticin' you much," proceeded the _enfant terrible_."He wanted mostly to know what was Nan's name an' where she went toschool."
"Surely you didn't tell him!" blushed Nan.
"Sho' nix! I told him yo' name was Lizajane an' you was a-clerkin' inthe five an' ten."
"Oh, Bobby!"
Nobody could help laughing at the saucy youngster, and his sisters wereever inclined to find him amusing and altogether delightful in spite ofhis outrageousness. Their laughter rang out clear and infectious.First they laughed at Bobby and then they laughed for the pure joy oflaughing. Douglas forgot her burdens and responsibilities; Helen forgothow she hated to be poor; Nan forgot that the quarter of a mile she wasgoing to have to trudge twice a day to join the army of commuters wasmuch nearer half a mile and she was not a very energetic girl; Lucyhad nothing to forget or regret, being only thirteen with a perfectdigestion. For the moment all of them forgot the nerve-worn father andthe hypochondriacal mother waiting so forlornly at the station with theluggage piled so hopelessly at one end.
In the midst of their gale of laughter they heard the hum of a motor andthe toot of a horn. A large touring car came swerving around the curvein the road.
"That's him now!" cried the delighted Bobby.
It was no other than the boy on the train. He stopped his car and withcrimson face began to stammer forth unintelligible words.
"Excuse me!--but--that is a--you see I---- Oh, hang it all! er--my nameis William--Will--Billy Sutton."
"Oh, he's plum nutty an' thinks he's Billy Sunday--Billy Nut Sunday!"and Bobby danced gleefully in his squshy shoes.
"Bobby! Behave yourself!" said Douglas, trying to swallow the laugh shewas in the midst of.
"We was jes' a-talkin' about you," said Bobby, with his most disarmingsmile.
"About me?" and the young fellow choked his engine.
"Yes, I was a-tellin'----"
But here Helen took her little brother in hand. Helen could usuallymanage him better than any of the others. She whispered some mysterioussomething to him which quickly sobered him.
"I don't want you to think I am impertinent or interfering, but yourlittle brother told me on the train coming out that your mother andfather were both ill----"
"Yes, I told him they were likely to die mos' any time."
"And I heard at the post-office at Preston, where I live, that you haverented the farm from the Misses Grant; also that those ladies were notexpecting you until tomorrow----"
"But I wrote we would be there today, Wednesday!" exclaimed Douglas.
"That doesn't make a bit of difference to Miss Ella and Miss LouiseGrant," laughed the boy. "They never get anything straight because theydiscuss every subject so thoroughly that they are all mixed up beforethey get through. Anyhow, they did not meet you, and if you don't thinkI am pushing or forward or something----"
"Butinsky!" suggested Bobby, but Helen slipped her hand over his pertlittle mouth.
"Thank you for that word--butinsky--why, I should like the privilege ofgoing after your mother and father and bringing all the luggage my carwill hold."
"Oh, you are too kind!" chorused the girls.
"Let me take all of you first to the farm."
"We must go by Grantly to let the ladies know we are here," suggestedDouglas.
"They are both of them at the farm. I saw them as I came by."
"Did you tell them we had come?"
"No! They were sure to let me know it was none of my business, and, asI was fully aware of the fact, I just drove on by, hoping to be of moreservice to you in this way."
The girls and Bobby piled into the car assisted by the boy, who handedthem in with pleasing gallantry. By adroit manoeuvering he managed toget Nan in front, although the irrepressible did squeeze in, too.
"I must sit in front so I can poke out my arm. Maybe you is huntin' ashover. I'm Dr. Wright's shover in town an' up'n the mountings. He don'tmind my having two jobs in off times when he ain't a-needin' me."
"Well, then, I'll employ you right now," said Billy Sutton, solemnly.
"I think maybe it is in order for us to introduce ourselves," saidDouglas. "This is Helen Carter; and this, Nan; and this, Lucy; I amDouglas; and Bobby has already been noticed enough."
Hands were shaken and then they started gaily off.
"It seems a long quarter of a mile from the station to the farm, butmaybe it is because I am lazy," said Nan, who was unfeignedly glad ofa lift.
"Who said it was only a quarter of a mile? It is exactly threequarters."
Two minutes brought them to the farm gate, where Billy deposited theoccupants of the back seat. It was decided that Nan and Bobby were to goon to the station with their new friend and benefactor and explain himto Mr. and Mrs. Carter.
"Oh, Douglas, isn't the place sweet? Lucy, don't you like it?" askedHelen as they opened the big gate that led from the road into the lawnof their new abode.
"Great! It looks so romantical."
"I was so afraid it wasn't going to be as nice as we thought it wasbecause the real estate agent was so glib and rattled on so he confusedus. I was afraid he had hypnotized us into liking it. But it is lovely,"and Douglas breathed a great sigh of relief.
Indeed it was lovely; lovelier, I fancy, than the real estate agentdreamed. The lawn was spacious, with soft rolling contours and a fewgreat trees, some of them centuries old. In the front a mighty oak stoodguard at one corner and an elm at another. Nearer the house a straightyoung ash and a willow oak divided the honors. At one side of the quaintold house a great mock orange had established a precedent for mockoranges and grown into a tree, just to show what a mock orange iscapable of when not confined to the limitations of a hedge. Its trunkwas gnarled and twisted and because of careful pruning of lower branchesit had grown like a huge umbrella with limbs curving out from the parentstem and almost touching the ground all around.
"What a grand place to play house and tell secrets!" thought Lucy,regretting that
thirteen years old, almost fourteen, was too great anage to indulge in dolly tea parties.
A grove of gum trees glorified the back yard with their brilliantOctober foliage. There never was such a red as the gum tree boasts andthese huge specimens were one blaze of color. The trunks had taken on ahoary tone that contrasted pleasantly with the warm tints of the leaves.
The yard contained about four acres enclosed by a fence that had beencovered entirely by honeysuckle, and even then a few blossoms weremaking the air fragrant. In the back there were several rathertumble-down outhouses, but these, too, were covered with honeysuckleas though by a mantle of charity.
The house had been added to from time to time as the race of overseershad felt the need. These additions had been made with no thought ofcongruity or ornamentation, but since utility had been the rulingthought the outcome was on the whole rather artistic. The originalhouse, built in the first years of the nineteenth century, had abasement dining-room, a large chamber over this and two small,low-ceilinged attic rooms. Later a shed room had been built at oneside in the back, then a two-story addition had reared itself next tothat with no apparent connection with the main house, not even afamily resemblance. This two-storied "lean-to" was known always as"the new house," although it had been in existence some threescoreyears. There were two rooms and two halls in this addition and it hada front porch all its own. The old house also boasted a front porch,with a floor of unplaned boards and posts of rough cedar. But whominds cedar pillars when Washington's bower has done its best to coverthem up? As for unplaned boards with cracks between: what a good placeto sweep the dirt!
The green blinds were open all over the house and windows were raised.As our girls stood on the lawn drinking in the beauty and peace of thescene they heard loud and angry voices proceeding from the basementwindow.
"Louise Grant, you are certainly foolish! Didn't I tell you theywouldn't be coming down here yesterday? Here you have littered up thisplace with flowers and they will all be faded by tomorrow. I have toldyou a million times I read the letter that Douglas Carter wrote and shesaid distinctly she was coming on Thursday." This in a loud, high,commanding tone as though the speaker was determined to be heard. "Youneedn't put your hands over your ears! I know you can hear me!"
"That's all right, Ella Grant," came in full contralto notes; "justbecause they didn't come yesterday is no sign they did not say they werecoming that day. I read the note, too, and if you hadn't have been soquick to burn it I guess I could prove it. Those flowers are not doinganybody any harm and I know one thing--they smell a sight better thanthat old carbolic you are so fond of sprinkling around."
"I thought I heard the three train stop at the crossing," broke in thehigh, hard voice.
"No such thing! I noticed particularly."
"Nonsense! You were so busy watching that Sutton boy racing by in hiscar that you didn't even know it was train time. What John Sutton meansby letting that boy drive that car I can't see. He isn't more thanfourteen----"
"Fourteen! Ella Grant, you have lost your senses! He is twenty, if heis a day. I remember perfectly well that he was born during the Spanishwar."
"Certainly! That was just fourteen years ago."
The girls couldn't help laughing. It happened that it was eighteen yearssince the Spanish war, as our history scholar, Lucy, had just learned.That seemed to be the way the sisters hit the mark: one shooting far infront, one far behind.
"We had better knock," whispered Helen, "or they will begin to break upthe china soon."
She accordingly beat a rat-tat on the open front door of the old house.
"Someone is knocking!" exclaimed the contralto.
"Not at all! It's a woodpecker," put in the treble.
One more application of Helen's knuckles and treble was convinced.
"That time it was a knock," she conceded.
There was a hurrying and scurrying, a sound of altercation on thestairs leading from the basement to the front hall.
"Why do you try to go first? You know perfectly well I can go fasterthan you can, and here you have started up the steps and I can't get by.You fat----"
"If you can go so much faster, why didn't you start up the steps first?"panted the contralto.
"Don't talk or you'll never get up the steps! Save your wind forclimbing."
The bulky form of Miss Louise hove in sight and over her shoulder thegirls could see the stern countenance of her long, slim sister. Howcould two such different looking persons be born of one mother? MissLouise was all breadth and no height; Miss Ella, all height and nobreadth. Miss Louise was dark of complexion, with coal-black hairstreaked with grey; Miss Ella was a strawberry blonde with sandy hairstreaked with grey. Age that brought the grey hair seemed about the onlything they had in common, except, of course, the estate of Grantly. Thathad been willed to them by their father with a grim humor, as he musthave been well aware of their idiosyncrasies. They were to hold theproperty together with no division, the one who survived to inheritthe whole.
"Well!" said Miss Ella over the shoulder of her sister, who refused togive her right of way but who was silenced for the moment by shortnessof breath. "Why did you come today when you wrote you were comingto-morrow?"
"I did not write I was coming tomorrow," said Douglas, smiling in spiteof herself.
"There! What did I tell you?" panted Miss Louise. "You said Tuesday,didn't you, honey?" with ingratiating sweetness.
"No, Miss Grant, I said Wednesday."
The incident was closed. The wrangling sisters had no more to say on thesubject except to apologize for not having them met. It was explainedthat Billy Sutton had gone to get Mr. and Mrs. Carter, but the trunksmust be sent for. Quite humbly Miss Ella went to get her farmhand tohitch up the mules to drive to the station, while Miss Louise showedthe girls over the house.
Everything was in beautiful order and shining with cleanliness. Thewhite pine floors were scrubbed until they reminded the girls of biscuitboards, and very lovely did the bright rag rugs look on these floors.The furniture was very plain with the exception of an occasional bit offine old mahogany. A beautiful old highboy was not too proud to stay inthe same room with a cheap oak dresser, and in the basement dining-rooma handsome mahogany table democratically mingled with split-bottomchairs.
Miss Louise had put flowers everywhere for their reception the daybefore and the whole house was redolent of late roses and mignonetteand citronella. An occasional whiff of carbolic acid and chloride oflime gave evidence of the indomitable practicality of Miss Ella.
Miss Louise proved very sweet and kindly when not in her sister'spresence and later on the girls found Miss Ella to be really veryagreeable. Both ladies seemed to be bent on showing kindness andconsideration to their tenants to make up for the mistake about theirday of arrival.
Mr. and Mrs. Carter could not help thinking that the place theirdaughters had chosen for them to spend the winter was pretty. As theyrolled up in Billy's car the quaint house and beautiful lawn certainlypresented a most pleasing aspect, and their handsome daughters were anadded loveliness to the landscape as they hurried to meet their parents.
"Ah, this is great!" exclaimed Mr. Carter, taking a deep breath of thepure fresh air. "I think I shall have to have a cow and some pigs and dosome fall plowing besides. Eh, Helen? You and I are to be thestay-at-homes. What do you think?"
"I think what you think, Daddy," answered Helen, smiling happily overher father's show of enthusiasm. Dr. Wright had told her that withreturning healthy nerves would come the enthusiasm that before hisillness had seemed to be part of Robert Carter's make-up.
"How do you like it, Mumsy?" asked Douglas as she drew her arm throughher mother's.
"Very nice, I am sure, but I think it would be wiser for me to go to bednow. I am not very strong and if I can give up before I drop it would beless trouble for my family," and Mrs. Carter took on a most plaintiveaccent. "A little tea and toast will be all I want for my supper."
"Oh now, it will be too bad
for you to go to bed," said Miss Ella. "Wewere planning to have all of you come up to Grantly for supper."
She and Miss Louise seemed to have agreed for once on the propriety ofhaving their tenants to supper.
"The count is coming," said Miss Louise, with a sentimental note in herfull voice.
"The count! Who is the count?" asked Mrs. Carter with some show ofanimation and interest.
"He is a nobleman who has settled in our neighborhood," said Miss Ellain a matter-of-fact tone, as though noblemen were the rule rather thanthe exception in her life.
"Maybe it would be possible for me to take a short rest and come toGrantly," said Mrs. Carter, with a quickening in her pretty eyes.
At mention of the count, Billy Sutton pretended to be much occupied withhis engine, but Nan noticed a slight curl on his lip as he bent over thewheel.