CHAPTER VI
The stairs were broad and easy, and the girls ran up after Uncle Robertwho proceeded to fit a large key in the lock of the big door at the headof the stairs. It was a very fine stable, built many, many years ago,and finished outside and inside with great care. The walls were allsealed or finished with narrow strips of varnished wood. As the doorswung open, the three girls stood dumb with amazement. Then "Oh,_darling_ Uncle Robert!" cried Rosanna, and threw herself into his arms.
Uncle Robert looked over her head at Miss Hooker and smiled.
"Glad if you like it, kiddie," he said. "It is my contribution to littleGwenny. And Doctor Rick told me to tell you that he would send somemusic for his share."
"Oh, Helen, Helen, isn't that _splendid_?" cried Rosanna. "Now we won'thave to have a Victrola! It will be like a real theatre."
"Just exactly," said Helen absently. She could not give very muchthought to the orchestra when the little theatre claimed her attention.
There was a real stage, and before it a long green tin that the girlsknew concealed the footlights. A splendid curtain hung before them,painted in a splashy way with a landscape. To the girls it seemed a rarework of art. Well, the sign painter who had done it was rather proud ofhimself, so it _must_ have been all right.
They walked down the aisle between rows of nice new benches, made withcomfortable backs. Mr. Horton left them and went around back of thestage. Immediately there was a sound of ropes squeaking, and the curtainrose as majestically as though it was the curtain of a real theatre. Andthere was the stage! The same accommodating sign painter had painted aback drop and "flies" as they are called. It was a woodland scene. Treeswere the thing that accommodating sign painter could do best, and he hadmade lots of them, as green as green! He had also painted two canvascovered boxes so that you could scarcely tell them from real rocks.
"Isn't that pretty nifty looking scenery?" asked Uncle Robert proudly."It only goes to show that there is a lot of kindness floating aroundloose in this work-a-day old world. The man who painted all this knewGwenny's mother when she was a girl, and when I asked for his bill hesaid he had done it all Sundays and nights and it was his contribution.He wouldn't take a cent. Doing it nights is why some of the trees looksort of bluish but I don't think it hurts, do you?"
"What a nice, _nice_ man!" exclaimed Miss Hooker. "I should say it_doesn't_ hurt! To think of his working nights after painting all daylong. I should admire those trees if they were a bright _purple_!"
"Of course you would," said Uncle Robert softly. "You are like that."
Rosanna was hurt. "Why, Uncle Robert! She doesn't mean that she wouldjust as _soon_ like a purple tree as a green one. She means how nice itwas of the man."
"Thank you, Rosanna; it is all perfectly clear to me now," smiled UncleRobert. "Perfectly clear." He looked again at Miss Hooker and shesmothered a little smile behind her little handkerchief.
They hated to go out of the theatre and see Uncle Robert lock the door.Then they separated. Elise danced off to the house. Miss Hooker andHelen went down the street together, and Uncle Robert and Rosanna cutacross the garden. Rosanna's heart was full. She wanted _everybody_ tobe happy.
"Uncle Robert," she said, "sometimes I wish that you were going to getmarried after awhile. If you were only going to marry Miss Hooker orsome young lady just like her, so little and sweet!"
"Well, it is worth considering," said Uncle Robert. "I wonder now, justfor the sake of argument, that is, if I _should_ do it to accommodateyou, I wonder if Miss Hooker _would_ marry me."
"Oh, no," said Rosanna. "She wouldn't _think_ of it."
"Ugh!" said Uncle Robert. It sounded as though someone had knocked allthe air out of him.
"No," continued Rosanna. "We were talking about Minnie getting marriedone day, and I said it was the only wedding I was ever apt to haveanything to do with because I had heard you say many times that you werenot a marrying man."
"What did she say?" asked Uncle Robert in a sort of strangled voicewhich Rosanna, skipping along at his side, failed to notice.
"Oh, she said, 'How interesting!' and I said, 'Isn't it? Because he isnicer than anyone I know, but he says that girls never cut any figure inhis young life except to play with.'"
"What did she say then?" demanded Mr. Horton.
"Nothing at all," answered Rosanna, "but she is sensible too, becausethe next time I was there, she asked more about Minnie, and then shesaid she had decided never to marry. She said she liked to be polite tomen and help them pass the time, and to assist them in worthy works, butfurther than that she despised the whole lot of them, especiallyblonds." Rosanna looked up to see what color hair Uncle Robert had, andnoticed a very queer look on his face.
"You look so queer, Uncle Robert," she said tenderly. "Don't you feelwell?"
"No, I don't," said Uncle Robert. "I think if you will excuse me I willtake a walk."
"How _do_ you feel?" persisted Rosanna.
"I feel--I feel _queer_," said Uncle Robert. "I feel sort of as though Ihad been gassed."
He turned abruptly and went down the walk, leaving Rosanna staring afterhim. At dinner, however, Uncle Robert declared that he was all right, soRosanna stopped worrying.
Everything went rushing along. And everything went beautifully, thanksto the energy everybody put into their work. A couple of days before theday of the entertainment Uncle Robert appeared with a copy of theprograms that he had had printed. All the Girl Scouts, when Rosannabrought it to the rehearsal, read it until the paper was quite worn out.At the bottom of the page, after the program part, was printed plainly,_Given by the Girl Scouts of Group II_. Whoever saw the program at allcould not fail to see that they were all in it, one as much as another.
At last the great day came! It was Saturday, of course. No other daywould be possible for busy school girls. Directly after supper, theScouts commenced to file into the theatre by ones and twos and threes.They gathered in the dressing-rooms back of the stage, where they sat orstood in solemn groups. Helen and Elise had arrived, and as Rosannastarted across the garden she happened to think of Mr. Harriman. Shecould not suppress a groan of dismay as she remembered her promise to goafter him. There was no time to get Helen or Elise to go. She lookedwildly up and down for some other Girl Scout, but there was not one insight. If she did not go, Mr. Harriman would indeed think that all womenwere alike. So she flitted down the street looking like a good fairy inher shimmering blue dress, with the tiny wreath of forget-me-notsbanding her dark hair. She had not taken time to put on her blue eveningcoat, with its broad bands of white fox fur, but held it round hershoulders with both hands as she ran.
Mr. Harriman was at home, the footman said, but he was engaged; hadcompany for dinner, and they had not quite finished. Would she wait?
Rosanna said she was sorry but she would have to go right in and speakto Mr. Harriman. So she passed the pompous servant and at thedining-room door a still more pompous butler, and stepped into thepresence of Mr. Harriman and his guests.
Miss Harriman, a thin, scared little old lady, sat at the head of thetable. Opposite her, busy with a large dish of plum pudding, sat Mr.Harriman. His two guests sat on either side of him. They were old too,so three white-haired old gentlemen turned and looked at Rosanna as sheentered and dropped a curtsey.
"'Devening! There you are again! Grrrrrr! Didn't forget, did you? Bah!Want I should go to show?" said Mr. Harriman, partly to Rosanna andpartly to the others.
"Yes, sir; this is the night," said Rosanna.
"What's this?" asked one of the gentlemen, who looked as though he couldnot have said _grrrrrr_ or _bah_ to save his life.
"That's a Girl Scout," said Mr. Harriman. "Told you at the club that Iwould find out about 'em. Here's a live one. Caught her myself." Heacted quite pleased.
"Shall I wait and walk over with you, Mr. Harriman," asked Rosanna, "orwill you come as soon as you can? You see I must be over there veryearly."
"I will come m'self," said Mr. Harriman. "W
ant piece puddin'? No?S'good! I will come later. Won't break my word. Didn't break yours.Bring these fellows along if they have any money."
"How much will we need?" said the third old gentleman, laughing.
"Anything from a nickel up," replied Rosanna.
"Cost you a quarter," said Mr. Harriman. "Cosgrove, here, will have topay thirty-five cents. Based on income tax!"
Rosanna, watching him, thought she saw a real twinkle in Mr. Harriman'seye. She warned them to be on time and promised to save three seats forthem in the front row. Then she went skipping happily off. Three insteadof one to come to the play, two quarters, and thirty-five cents madeeighty-five cents right there! It was enough to make _anyone_ skip. Whenshe reached the barn people were filing up the broad stairs, and theroom was already half full. Uncle Robert stood near the door nodding andsmiling and telling the Girl Scout ushers where to seat one and another.Rosanna hurriedly wrote "Taken" on the backs of three tickets, and laidthem on three spaces on the bench nearest the stage. As people keptcoming, she commenced to wonder if there would be seats enough. Shewhispered her fear to Uncle Robert.
"That's all right," he said. "I have one of the box stalls downstairsfull of camp chairs, and the sign painter is here to help me bring themup if they are needed."
"You think of everything," said Rosanna fondly, then set herself towatch the door for Mr. Harriman. It was not long before she heard theclump, clump, clump of his cane and the heavy footsteps of his twofriends. She escorted them proudly to their seats, and left them noddingappreciatively at the bright curtain and all the fittings of the littletheatre. Then she hurried around back of the stage.
"They came, eighty-five cents' worth!" she whispered to Helen.
"What do you mean?"
"Mr. Harriman is here and two of his friends," said Rosanna. "And Mr.Harriman and one friend will give twenty-five cents, and the other willgive thirty-five."
"Good!" said Helen. "How do I look? Is the place filling up? Have youseen the music Doctor Rick sent? Five pieces! They have just come. Theyare down in the feed room getting their instruments out. Oh, I am _so_excited! And it is all to make Gwenny well."
"I am going out now," said Rosanna. "I wish you could all sit out infront. It does not seem fair for me to do so."
"It _is_ fair," Helen assured her. "Didn't you write the whole play? Ofcourse you must see that it is played right."
When Rosanna appeared she glanced at Mr. Harriman and was surprised tohave him beckon her to him.
"Sit here," he said, making a small but sufficient space between himselfand one of his friends--the thirty-five cent one, Rosanna noticed. Shesat down, and as she did so the music started off with a flourish. Howsplendidly it sounded! It quite drowned the sound of people entering.Uncle Robert, and the sign painter, and a couple of brothers belongingto one of the girls were busy bringing camp chairs and placing them inthe wide aisle and along the sides. Two bright red spots burned onRosanna's cheeks.
She looked at her wrist watch. In five minutes it would begin. And itdid.
A row of Girl Scouts in crisp, natty looking uniforms, marchingaccording to size, so that the large girls were in the center of thestage, came out before the curtain and sang one of their best Girl Scoutsongs. Their voices were so sweet and they sang so well that they had toreturn and give an encore. Mr. Harriman pounded with his cane.
Then the Webster girls, dressed as fairies, came out and danced what theprogram called the Moonbeam Dance, and behold, Uncle Robert had fixed aspot light so they looked pink and white and purple and blue by turnsand it was like a real theatre.
There was so much applause after this that Rosanna could not helpwondering if it was a good strong barn!
Then there was a short pause while the orchestra played.
As it ended, Uncle Robert appeared before the curtain. He looked sobeautiful to Rosanna in his evening dress with his merry eyes andpleasant smile, that her eyes filled with tears of pride. And he made abeautiful simple little speech. He told the audience a great deal aboutthe Girl Scouts and all the good the organization was doing for thegirls and others as well, and then he told of the little lame girl,suffering so hopelessly and so patiently, and how these Girl Scouts haddetermined to help her. He told them there was no price set on thetickets, because some might feel like giving ten cents or even a quarteror so but that no one was _asked_ to leave more than a nickel. And thenhe called their attention to the beautiful curtain and told them thatthat and the scenery was the gift of a friend who was a sign painter,who had done it Sundays and nights after work as his contribution to thebenefit, and everybody clapped furiously, and Mr. Harriman and thethirty-five cent gentleman commenced to nudge each other behind Rosanna._She_ was sitting on the very front edge of the bench.
Then Uncle Robert said:
"After another short selection by the orchestra there will be a playwritten by one of the Girl Scouts. We hope that you will enjoy it." Hebowed, and stepped behind the curtain, while everybody clapped and Mr.Harriman thumped with his cane.
As the orchestra struck up, the thirty-five cent gentleman leaned overto Mr. Harriman and said, "What are you going to do about it, Dick?"
"Do 'swell's you do," said Mr. Harriman.
"Just as much?" questioned the thirty-five cent gentleman.
"Yes," said Mr. Harriman, snorting. "And fifty over!"
"I will break even with you both," said the third gentleman, leaningacross.
Mr. Cosgrove took out a check book and a fountain pen and commenced towrite. Mr. Harriman leaned behind Rosanna and watched.
"Poh! Hum! Grrrrrr! Piker!" he said, and Mr. Cosgrove, laughing, tore uphis check and wrote another which he handed to Mr. Harriman. Rosanna didnot think it would be polite to look, but wondered what in the worldthey were doing when they should have been listening to the music.
"S'all right," said Mr. Harriman. "Girl's pretty lame, isn't she,Rosanna?"
"Gwenny can't walk at all," replied Rosanna, "and even at night her backhurts so she can't sleep."
"Poor little broken pot," said the third gentleman softly. "A pity thatthe hand of the Potter slipped."
"Save your poetry, Bristol!" grunted Mr. Harriman. "This talks better."He struck the check book with his pen, and Mr. Bristol, borrowing apage, wrote busily as the curtain rose.
Rosanna, hoping they would forget business for a while, bent her eyes onthe stage.