The Turned-About Girls

  CHAPTER XI

  ON THE ROAD TO LONGMEADOW

  Along the country road, through pastures and farms and meadows, wherethe limousine had smoothly, swiftly glided, Aunt Martha's Ford bouncedsturdily. Soon the ice-cream cones were demolished, even to the lastgritty crumb of the cornucopias. Jacqueline wiped her hands and her faceon her handkerchief (Caroline's handkerchief!).

  "Wipe off your mouth, Nellie," bade Aunt Martha. "Let Caroline do it foryou. I haven't a hand to spare."

  Jacqueline scrubbed Nellie vigorously with Nellie's own pockethandkerchief which had a rabbit worked in one corner.

  "That's my best hanky," said Nellie, and with the ice thus brokenbetween them, began to ask Jacqueline questions.

  Did she sleep in the train? Did she have a real bed? Was she scared allalone like that?

  "Of course not," said Jacqueline, rather showily.

  She stuffed her mussy handkerchief back into her pocket, and there werethe chocolates, salvage of the satin box. She decided to share them withthis new acquaintance.

  "Here, Nellie," she said. "Don't you like chocolates?"

  Nellie seized upon the proffered sweet.

  "Only one, Nellie," struck in Aunt Martha, who seemed to know withoutlooking what went on among the children round her.

  "I've got a pocketful," Jacqueline urged generously.

  "No need to be piggy on that account. Where did you get 'em, Caroline? Ihope you don't spend money foolishly."

  "There was a little girl on the train had a whole box of chocolates."Jacqueline spoke truthful words, but with untruthful intent. "These aresome of them."

  Aunt Martha looked at her disapprovingly.

  "It's just as well not to pick up acquaintances on trains," she said."But I don't need to lay down the law, for you won't be taking anothersuch journey for one while."

  "Not unless you send me to an Institution," thought Jacqueline. Whatwould it be like to go to an Institution, she wondered? Perhaps shewould be really bad, and let Aunt Martha send her there. TheGildersleeves could always come and get her out.

  Nellie interrupted Jacqueline's train of thought. She had bitten intothe plump chocolate she had chosen and found it not at all to her taste.

  "This is a bad candy," she protested. "It ought to be white sugar insideand instead it's all gooey gum."

  "It's nice jelly, you goop," said Jacqueline. "Throw it away, and haveanother."

  "No!" Aunt Martha struck in. "You can't waste good candy like that,Nellie. If you don't like what Caroline gives you, leave it alone. Butyou can't have another. Caroline may want to save a piece for each ofthe boys."

  It seemed to Jacqueline pathetic that mere candy should be so precious.

  "Oh, let Nellie find one that she likes," she pleaded, and added,without thinking: "I'll get a whole box of candy to-morrow for theboys."

  Aunt Martha smiled rather quizzically.

  "Not a box of that sort of candy, Caroline. It must have cost at least adollar a pound. Does seem sort of wicked to throw money about that way,when times are so hard."

  Aunt Martha spoke seriously, and the gray eyes that she suddenly bent onJacqueline were very grave, and even stern. Jacqueline suddenlyreconsidered her plan to be naughty and get sent to an Institution.There might, she concluded, be unpleasantnesses before she got there.Not of course that she was afraid of Aunt Martha!

  "I'll keep what's left of the chocolates for the boys," she said quitemeekly. "How many of 'em are there--the boys, I mean, not thechocolates. I've kind of forgotten."

  "No wonder, either," Aunt Martha answered heartily. "You can't haveheard much about your Longmeadow relations. Your mother and I were onlyconnected by marriage, and both of us busy women, so correspondence sortof languished after your father died. Can't say you favor him in looks.You must take after your mother's folks."

  Jacqueline blushed with embarrassment. What fibs might she not yet beforced to tell?

  "There now," said Aunt Martha. "I shouldn't be personal, setting a badexample to you and Nellie. Let's talk about the boys."

  "Let's!" said Jacqueline, with heartfelt relief.

  "Well, there's my big boy, Ralph. He's most sixteen, and he'll go toHigh School over to Baring Center next winter, if we can getconveyance." A worried look played for a moment on Aunt Martha's steadyface, and was gone as quickly as it came. "Ralph is my right hand on thefarm," she said with a little smile. "Like you must have been to yourmother, Caroline."

  Jacqueline blushed again. She had played several parts in her life, butshe had never adopted the role of right hand to any one. Did grown folkspeak always of children who were right hands with the sort of smilethat was on Aunt Martha's firm lips, and that sort of shininess in theeyes?

  "Then there's Dick," went on Aunt Martha. "He's twelve now, and Neil isten next month. You come just between 'em. And here's Nellie. She's agreat help to us, too. She sets the table and puts away the cleandishes, and plays with the babies."

  Nellie smiled, and showed two engaging dimples.

  "We've got nice babies," she said eagerly. "We haven't had 'em long, butthey're going to stay with us always, aren't they, Mother?"

  Aunt Martha nodded.

  "They're no blood-relation to you, Caroline," she explained. "It's onthe other side of the family. My husband's sister Grace married a poorfellow named Pearsall that was dreadful sort of unlucky. She took sickand died right after little Annie was born, and he couldn't rightly seemto do for his children. So Mother and I--that's my husband's mother,Caroline--we just sent for the babies. Freddie's three years old now,and Annie is nineteen months."

  "You'd ought to see her walk!" cried Nellie.

  Aunt Martha smiled rather grimly.

  "Next thing she'll be walking into everything just like Freddie does,"she said. "Young ones and ducks are a good deal alike some ways."

  Jacqueline looked at Aunt Martha for a moment, while she thoughtrapidly. At Buena Vista she had heard her Aunt Edith and her friendssing the praises of one of their number, who had adopted a little Frenchorphan. To give a child a home was a serious undertaking, even for alady who, like Aunt Edith's friend, had a great house and servants andcars and lovely gowns and jewels. But here was Aunt Martha, who had nocar but a Ford, and wore tacky old clothes that Aunt Edith's chambermaidwould have scorned, who scrimped on the price of an ice-cream cone andthought a dollar a pound for chocolates (Jacqueline's really had cost adollar-fifty!) sinful waste. Aunt Martha was really _poor_--yet _she_was giving a home to two children--and now to a third.

  "Aunt Martha," Jacqueline burst out, in the small-boy way that she hadwhen she was excited. "I think you're awful good to give Caroline Tait ahome."

  Aunt Martha stared at her, then smiled.

  "Don't talk about yourself as if you were in a legal document, you funnyyoung one!" she said. "And as to giving you a home, why, there's alwaysroom for one more. Besides," she went on, and Jacqueline felt dimly thetact and kindness that impelled her, "we haven't any _big_ girl to makeour family circle complete, and I know you'll be a great help andcomfort to us, Caroline."

  I'm glad to say that at this moment Jacqueline felt horribly ashamed ofthe trick she had played on Martha Conway.

  "I--I guess so," she mumbled blushingly. "I hope so. I'll try, AuntMartha."