CHAPTER II
THE ATTIC
"How's this?" asked the man.
"Oh, wonderful! Those beams, they slant just like the story books say,"declared Nora, ecstatically.
"Good enough to give you the right sort of nightmare, eh? Well, that'snice. Ted is always after the cobwebs, but I don't let her spoil them ifI'm around. You see, cobwebs have a lot to do in my business."
"Cobwebs?" Nora poked her little head in between two chummy beams. "Whatdo cobwebs do in surveying?"
"They make a cross line on my object glass. I'll show you when I getaround to it," replied Jerry. "Now see here, here's the secret chest,"he was opening a big wooden box, "and by a miracle," he continued, "itdoes hold clothes, duds, et-cet-tee-ra."
"The people who had this place gave a big party, I believe," explainedMrs. Ted, "and they left a lot of their costumes here. We have never hadany chance to make use of them," she finished, slapping her hands on thework apron that partly covered her own mannish costume. Apparently shedisdained the frivolous things.
"But just look!" Nora was almost in the big cedar chest; in fact,nothing more than a bump of white, ending in two small brown spots thatwaggled like sandaled feet, was visible. Presently the curly heademerged in a cloud of brilliant, spangly stuff, very evidently thecostumes. "Aren't these just wonderful!"
"Oh yes," agreed Jerry, "they're nice and shiny. But just look at thisspook cabinet. Do you know what a spook cabinet is, Nora?"
"No, what?" She dropped the costumes back into the big chest instantly.
"They're just a box of tricks. But this is the box empty. See here,"Jerry opened, with some difficulty, the long narrow closet that wasbuilt in a corner of the attic room. "I have always wondered why thishad a ventilator at the top----" he began.
"Jerry!" called his wife rather sharply. "Please don't do all theexploring in one day. Nora must change her things and come down stairs.She may want something to eat after her journey." Mrs. Ted's tone ofvoice was plainly against that cabinet.
"All right, Ted, I'll subside," replied the jolly man. "The fact is----"he whispered to Nora, "our Ted hates ghosts; and every time I talk aboutthis here upright coffin, she objects," and he gave one of his boyishtwisted yelps, as if he wanted to yell but didn't dare so gurgledinstead, and it was very plain he said this out of pure mischief;nevertheless, it did cause the little girl to clench her small fists andstart suddenly.
"Come right down stairs," insisted the hostess imperatively. "I'm verysure, Nora dear, you will find something more interesting in Vita's cakebox than you could dig out of that dusty hole."
"Vita! What a queer name!" exclaimed Nora, following Mrs. Manton outfrom the interesting attic.
"Her whole name is more than that. It's Vittoria, but since she does ourcooking and is both vital and vitaminous, we cut it down to an easy wordimplying both," explained Ted. "You see, Nora, we are keen on shortcuts."
The little girl was thinking something like that. In fact, she was sofascinated with the realities of her visit she had almost lost the lastshred of faith in her picturesque dreams. "If I had ever named a cook,"she was deciding, "I should surely have given her Susan or Betsy ormaybe Jennie. But Vita means more and makes you think of good victuals."
The open stairs were built winding from the big field stone hearth inthe first room, clear up to the attic chamber, and, as they descended,Nora looked about the quaint, rustic place in rapturous admiration.Indeed, no dream of her great life series had ever included this. Gonewith the Jim-Aunt Elizabeth idea was going the rag-rug four-poster plan,that had seemed almost indelibly outlined on her whimsical pictureplate. She sighed a little, as she felt she should, on the "grave of herdreams;" but there was Jerry calling from the open door:
"Here you are, Nora! Come and meet Cap."
"Cap! A boy!" she asked excitedly.
"Not the regular kind, but he's some boy just the same." Jerry wasclapping his hands like a boy himself, just as a big shaggy dog boundeddown the path and up the few steps to the square porch.
"Oh, what a beauty! I have always loved a big dog!" exclaimed Nora."What's his name?"
"Captain," replied the proud master. "Here Cap, come shake hands withNora."
The dog cocked one ear up inquisitively, looked over the small girl withmajestic indifference, walked around her twice and finally flung hisbushy tail out with a swish that fanned Nora's cheek as she bent over tomake friends.
"Isn't he lovely! Just like the picture in my first story book; the bigdog that dragged the lost man out of the snow drifts," said Nora, almostbreathless with delight.
"He is exactly that sort," explained Jerry. "He came from the other sideand was a Captain in the big war."
"Oh," sighed Nora wistfully. "He must know an awful lot."
"He surely does, eh, old boy?" and the big shaggy head was pattedaffectionately.
Meanwhile Vita, the Italian woman who held the office of housekeeper,was depositing a mess of freshly-picked dandelions in a pan on thekitchen table. She smiled pleasantly at the little stranger, and at asingle glance Nora knew she and Vita were sure to be friends.
"Now, you know us all," announced the hostess. "Vita and Captaincomplete the circle."
"Not counting the crow, and the rabbits and the cat and the----"
"The animal kingdom is not included," Ted interrupted her husband. "Whenwe get to checking up the animals please, after Captain count inCyclone."
"Cyclone! A horse?" asked Nora.
"Yes, the horse," answered Jerry. "He can climb trees, crawl throughgullies and swim the river like a bear, according to Ted."
"Well, hardly all of that," qualified the smiling owner of the saddlehorse Cyclone. "But he is a wonderful horse, Nora. I am sure you willwant to ride him."
"Oh, I'd be dreadfully afraid," demurred the girl. "But perhaps----"
"You aren't going to be afraid of anything around here, Bobbie," Jerryassured the small girl, who looked smaller by contrast to the big manand the robust, athletic young woman; both perfect models of "America'sbest."
Considering the very short time little Nora had been at the Nest, itappeared much, in the way of acquaintance, had been accomplished.
"If you will just run off, Jerry-boy, and manage to find something tokeep you busy for a half hour or so," begged his wife finally, "perhapsNora and I will be able to settle down to the comforts of home."
"Am I not included?" he asked teasingly.
"Sometimes, but just now we need space," replied she, who wasaffectionately styled Teddy.
"That being the case----. Come along Cap," and the next moment a veryhappy, boyish man and a wildly happy dog went scampering off through the"flap-jack" path in the clearance. The path was made of selected flatstones scattered at stepping intervals, and it was Jerry who insistedthey reminded him of Vita's best flap-jacks.
The coming of Nora to the lodge in the wilderness was the result of whatseemed a necessity. The child was the daughter of Theodora Crane's bestfriend Naomie Blair, an artist so highly temperamental that, after aseries of nerve episodes, she finally seemed forced to go to Westernmountains and leave little Nora at a select school. The school wasselect to the point of isolation, and the teachers had advised Theodora,who was in charge of Nora, that the child was so nervous, high strungand fanciful, that the doctors had ordered a complete change ofsurroundings.
These characteristics were already showing in Nora's conduct; but withthat understanding of childhood always a part of pure affection for it,Theodora was pleased, rather than worried, over the prospects ahead.
Nora herself seemed bewildered and fascinated. Her love of "dreamthings" was plainly a part of her nature, at the same time she wasquickly learning that only happy realities can make happy dreams.
In the small satchel that Nora clung to was found no suitable change ofanything like practical clothing, in fact her dress was so fussy,be-ribboned and be-frilled, that Teddy hesitated about offering any ofit to the briars and brambles of the timberland.
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"I pick out all my own dresses, you know," the little girl explained."Nannie wasn't able to do any shopping so she had the catalogues sent tome by mail."
"Nannie?"
"That's mother, of course. But she is so little and delicate I couldnever think of calling her mother," declared Nora. "She likes Nanniebetter."
"You have quite a talent for names or re-names," joked Teddy. "I amwondering how I should have liked the 'Lizzie' you chose for me."
"Not Lizzie! Elizabeth," in a shocked voice.
"Same lady, I believe. But let's hold on to Ted until we get acquaintedor things may go on end," advised good-natured Mrs. Manners. "Besides,there's our auto, that's 'Lizzie' to Jerry."
Nora did not ask why. She was in the yellow room, changing, and the blueroses in the filmy little dress she selected were not bluer than her ownwondering eyes.
"I tell you what would be just the thing for you, dear," said Teddysuddenly. "You must join the Girl Scouts!"
"Girl Scouts!"
"Yes, you know about them, don't you?"
"I've read about them, but I really never could, Aunt Teddy. I couldn'tbe one of those wild, uncultured girls."
A delicious laugh escaped Teddy.
"Wild and uncultured!" she repeated. Then, seeing the pitifully blanklook on Nora's face she dropped the subject. "Here's your closet," sheexplained next, opening the door of a built-in wardrobe, "and you betterslip these little pads on the ends of hangers when you put pretty thingson them. You see, we have very few fancy things out here, and thesehangers are cut from our birch trees. I had a visitor last year who wasso afraid of snakes she spent all her time around the lodge, so she madethese pine pads with fancy stocking ends. I have never needed to usethem."
The pads were little cushions of pine needles sewed in silk stockingends, with a long open seam along the side. These slipped onto thehangers and were tied with tapes at the hook. Nora quickly adjusted onefor her dotted swiss dress and another for her pink rose silk. These,strange to tell, she had carried in her hand bag.
"And here is your dresser," Teddy further introduced. "See what lovelydeep drawers."
"Aren't they? I'd love to put lavender and rosemary in the corners. Doyou--like those perfumes?"
"Well, yes, as perfumes. But I'm so used to the odor of freshly cuttrees I'm afraid my finer taste is disappearing," said the otherquietly.
Into the drawer Nora was placing such an outlay of finery as any youngbride might have boasted of. Selecting from catalogues was only tooevident in the lacy garments, with little ribbons, and tiny rose buds;pretty in themselves but absurd on the undergarments of a growing child.Then, there was an ivory set, mirror, comb, brush, etc. As the surprisedTeddy glimpsed the display over a khaki covered shoulder she haddifficulty in choking back a laugh.
"Naomie would be as silly as that," she pondered, silently, reflectingthat the same sort of whims in dress and finery had been a real part ofNaomie Blair's young girlhood.
Nora was placing her pretty things on the big dresser, with skilledlittle fingers, and that the fancy, private, exclusive school had helpedto make silly traits even more pronounced in little Nora, was tooevident.
Wisely, however, Mrs. Ted said not a word in opposition. Things mustmove slowly, she realized, if the quaint little dreamer was not to betoo rudely shocked out of her fancies.
It was all very exciting even to the placid, well balanced young woman.To have the daughter of her girlhood friend come into her very arms,like a little bird battered in the storm of life's uncertainties, withtired wings falling against the bright window pane of love; then to seethe dreams unfolded with the Jims, Elizabeths, ghosts and attic fancies,ready to reel off like an actual moving-picture--it was all verysurprising, not to say astonishing, for the sensible, modern Mantons.
But could this same bright-eyed lady have looked into the summer ahead,and forseen the new fields of fancies that Nora was about to explore,she might have been still more amazed. Playing mother to a butterfly isnot often a very satisfactory experience, but there was Nora, and ifever a child needed a mother this little "whimsy" did.
"To think of calling her mother Nannie," reflected Mrs. Manton, "and ifonly I could have called such a child 'daughter.'"
Jerry was back from his enforced trip to the lumberland, and his whistletrickled in the window on a flood of sunshine.
"Oh, let's go down," exclaimed Nora, brushing things hastily into thedresser drawer and neglecting to tie her sash in an even bow. "I'm soanxious to see your outdoors, I could easily believe there are fairiesin these thick, tangly woods."
"Our birds and little animal friends are just as interesting asfairies," remarked Mrs. Ted, "but you must know them and they must knowyou."
"How ever could one get acquainted with birds?" asked Nora, stopping amoment on her way out to answer Jerry's whistle.
"We don't know how, but we know we do," replied Mrs. Ted, giving theflying window curtain a jerk to let the sun stream in. "Some day I musttell you about the poor little blue-jay we took in and nursed. He got sofond of us I could hardly get him to fly away."
"I had a canary once, Nannie sent it for Christmas, but I had to let himgo," said Nora. "He was just breaking his heart in that tiny, littlecage. I never wanted a bird again."
"They are pathetic when caged," agreed Mrs. Manton, "but when out intheir own woods they seem to be the very happiest little creatures ofall creation. Run along," she said, as Nora waited politely. "ThatJerry-boy is getting impatient."
As the child fluttered off, her yellow ringlets dancing and her daintylittle skirts swishing around the half tied ribbon sash, Mrs. Ted smiledand pondered:
"Another little blue-jay to love; but she will surely want to fly awayin her sky of dreams, and I pity the tired wings when night comes,"sighed the potential mother.