CHAPTER XXIX
SO MUCH FOR SO MUCH
Inside Miss Crevey's stuffy little shop a woman customer kept insistingthat she must have lilac ribbon two inches wide, although Miss Creveytold her that blue ribbon three inches wide, which Miss Crevey happenedto have in stock, would be just as good, if not better. Jacquelineteetered impatiently from one foot to the other, while she waited forthe end of the argument. The woman left at last in dudgeon, withoutbuying so much as a paper of pins.
"Well, there's no suitin' some folks," Miss Crevey muttered waspishly,and turned to Jacqueline. "Come now, what d'ye want, little girl? Speakup! I won't have no young ones hangin' round in here, handlin' thingsand askin' questions. Ain't you got a tongue?"
Most certainly Jacqueline had, and she used it, the moment Miss Creveystopped for breath and gave her half a chance.
"If you please," she said, "I want to know the price of the cup andsaucer on the shelf in the window."
Miss Crevey fixed her eyes on a dinky little "Souvenir of Longmeadow"that might have graced a doll's tea table.
"Fifty cents," she said, "but you'd better buy the match box and getmore for your money."
"I didn't mean that one," protested Jacqueline. "I meant the one withgreen dragons, there on the shelf."
"That old cup?"
"Yes, please. How much is it?"
Miss Crevey looked at her with hostile eyes.
"That's more 'n you can pay," she said flatly. "It's worth five dollars,Mrs. Enos Trowbridge told me--five dollars, if it's worth a cent. Runalong now! I can't waste my time tellin' you the price of everything inthe store."
"I haven't asked the price of _everything_," Jacqueline retorted. "Ionly asked about the green-dragon cup. Let me look at it, will youplease?"
So loftily did she speak, and so sure did she seem of herself, that MissCrevey took the cup and saucer from the shelf although she grumbled alittle as she did so.
"There they be!" she said, as she set them on the counter. "Don't you godroppin' them now!"
Luckily at that moment a young girl from upstreet stepped in, to buy apiece of tape, and some white hooks and eyes (she had to be contentedwith black) and some orange twist, though she finally took yellow. WhileMiss Crevey was making these small sales, Jacqueline had time to examinethe dragon cup and saucer at leisure. Yes, they were of identically thesame pattern as Grandma's cups and saucers that were broken. Jacquelinecouldn't be mistaken. She had washed and dried them too often. AuntMartha had told her that such china couldn't be had now for love normoney, but here it was, the very cup she wanted--Grandma's cup!
The screen door slammed as the young girl went out, not too wellpleased, it would seem, with her makeshift purchases.
"Well!" said Miss Crevey briskly. "If you're through playin' with thatcup and saucer, I'll just set 'em up out o' harm's way."
"I--I want to buy them," faltered Jacqueline.
"Got five dollars handy?" challenged Miss Crevey.
Jacqueline swallowed and stared hard at the precious cup, so that sheneed not meet Miss Crevey's gimlet eyes. Oh, if only she had some of themoney that she had spent so carelessly at home and at school! Why, shehad often given a five-dollar bill for a box of candy, and got back withit only a few bits of silver--chicken-feed, she had liked to call themgrandly. If only she had one of those bills now! If only she could gohome proudly, with Grandma's cup!
"Make up your mind!" urged the implacable Miss Crevey. "Take it or leaveit--I can't wait all day."
Jacqueline felt herself backed against the wall. She must do something,and do it quickly, or the precious cup and saucer would go back upon theshelf, and then as likely as not they would be snapped up next minute bysome other customer and lost to Grandma forever. She could almost seethe entire town of Longmeadow, charging into the shop to buy that cup,and nothing but that cup.
"Hold on!" she said, and she was thinking fast. "Couldn't you--trust me?I'll have the money in September, sure."
Of course she would! Even if Caroline and the Gildersleeves didn't getback in time for school, as Eleanor Trowbridge prophesied, Aunt Edie andUncle Jimmie were due in September.
Miss Crevey looked at her coldly. Oh, how conscious Jacqueline grew ofthe scantiness and shabbiness of her faded gingham! She blushed, and wasangry at herself for blushing, and so blushed all the harder.
"Where d'ye expect to get the money?" Miss Crevey shot the words fromher thin lips.
"I'm eleven in September," Jacqueline said truthfully. "And I have apretend-aunt that always gives me money on my birthday, and she willthis time."
"Well, when you get the money," Miss Crevey spoke like one conferring agreat favor, "I'll let you have the cup and saucer."
"Will you keep them for me till I get the money?" asked Jacquelinedesperately.
"Why of course I will," cried Miss Crevey heartily, "unless somebodycomes along that'll pay me spot cash for them."
The tears of disappointment rose to Jacqueline's eyes. She blinked themrapidly away. She must not let this hateful woman see her cry. But shewas so sorry for Grandma--and so sorry for herself! She remembered howhopefully she had dressed for the little trip to Longmeadow, only anhour ago--how she had made herself so extra neat, with a hair ribbon,too--the look of the upper drawer, as she tossed its contentsover--handkerchiefs, stockings, underwear--a Japanese lacquer box.
Jacqueline caught her breath.
"Look here!" she spoke, as one inspired. "If I brought you somethingworth _more_ than five dollars and let you keep it till September when Ishall have some money--then would you let me have the cup and saucer andtake them home--right now?"
Miss Crevey pursed her lips.
"What d'ye mean by _something_?" she asked stabbingly.
Jacqueline's heart was beating fast.
"There's a pin," she said, "and there's a pearl in it--or there's goldbeads--a chain of them. I know gold beads are worth a lot more than fivedollars. Oh, couldn't you take them?"
"How do I know till I see them?" snapped Miss Crevey. "You bring 'em insome day--then we'll talk business."
Jacqueline drew a long breath.
"I'm going to go and get them right straight off," she said, "and don'tyou sell that cup and saucer till I come back."
Strange though it may seem to you, it didn't enter Jacqueline's headthat she was doing a dreadful thing in taking Caroline's preciouskeepsakes to use as a pledge. In a half-formed way she felt thatCaroline, by going off to the seashore, had brought this trouble uponher, and so was bound to help her out, in any way she could. She felt,too, that the fact that Grandma was really a relation of Caroline's, notof hers, made the whole arrangement perfectly fair.
Still, Jacqueline might have seen her conduct in a different light, ifshe had taken time to sleep upon it. But she took no time. For luckplayed into her hand in a breathlessly amazing fashion. When she burstout of Miss Crevey's shop, with a crazy idea of running clear to thefarm and back, before Ralph got to the Post Office at five o'clock, whomshould she see, heading down the street toward his home in the Meadows,but friendly Mr. Griswold!
Shrieking like a lost soul, Jacqueline sprinted after him, andfortunately she made him hear. A moment later she was seated at his sidein his ramshackle, blessed old car. A short half-hour later, withwarnings to Nellie never to tell, she was creeping up the stairs totheir old room, so paddy-pawed that Aunt Martha, busy changing Grandma'ssheets, behind the closed doors of the parlor, never heard a sound.
Without pausing one moment to think, she opened the lacquer box and tookout the string of gold beads. She knotted them safely in the corner of aclean pocket handkerchief, and quietly as she had entered, slipped outof the house again.
She ran part of the long, dusty road back to the village. Suppose sheshould come too late--suppose she should find the cup alreadysold--suppose oh! suppose Miss Crevey refused to keep to the bargain!But none of these dreadful things came to pass. When she panted into theclos
e little shop, she found the dragon cup and saucer still in thewindow, and she found Miss Crevey mindful of the agreement.
Shrewdly Miss Crevey examined the beads.
"Be they yours?" she asked suspiciously.
"Heirlooms," stammered Jacqueline, and then dodged the subject. "I knowthey're worth more than five dollars."
"Hm!" sniffed Miss Crevey. She sounded noncommittal enough, but she putthe beads into the drawer of an old secretary behind the counter, andturned the key upon them. Then she wrapped the cup and saucer carefullyin old newspapers, and even, for greater safety, packed them in a largeold button box.
"Don't ye break 'em now!" she cautioned.
Jacqueline didn't. She had broken enough dragon china, she felt, to lasther for a lifetime. She climbed into the car beside Ralph, at fiveo'clock, as circumspectly as if it were a baby that she held in herarms. She clambered out again at the kitchen door of the farm, withequal care.
"Aunt Martha!" she cried gaspingly. "Aunt Martha! See what I've got. Itold you I would. For Grandma!"
With hands that shook with eagerness, Jacqueline unwrapped the cup andsaucer, and for once she saw Aunt Martha stand (in Grandma's phrase!)"flabbergasted."
"For the land sake, Jackie!" Aunt Martha finally got her breath."Wherever in the world did you dig up that old china?"
"I found it--in Miss Crevey's shop."
"Jackie! You never got it for nothing!"
"My pretend-aunt will send me some money on my birthday." Jacquelinespoke fast. "I'll pay Miss Crevey then. It's all right, Aunt Martha.Honest, it is."
Aunt Martha handled the cup and saucer almost reverently.
"Seems like a miracle," she said, in a hushed voice. "I don't mindtelling you now, Jackie, we were worried to death because Grandmawouldn't eat enough to keep up her strength, but now--why, when she seesher own old cup----"
She broke off, as if she couldn't make the words come, and pattedJacqueline's shoulder. From Aunt Martha that meant as much as a hug anda kiss from Aunt Edie.
"You've done a good day's work, Jackie," Aunt Martha found words again,as she turned away, and in the glow and triumph of the moment Jacquelinealmost forgot that the gold beads that were Caroline's lay under lockand key in Miss Crevey's dusty secretary.