CHAPTER XI. MRS. WATKINS
Although it was probable that most of the Day's neighbors feltmore or less curiosity, if not interest, in their domesticmisfortunes, it was only Miss Peckham who seemed to keep reallyclose observation, in season and out, of all that went on in andabout the Day house.
Janice could have wished that the spinster would give more of herattention to her cats and Ambrose, the parrot, and less toneighborhood affairs. For the child knew that not even a peddlercame to the door that the sharp-visaged woman behind her bowedblinds did watch to see what Janice did.
"She watches every move I make, Daddy," complained the girl oneday. "I don't see why she cares who comes to see me. She's themeanest thing--"
"Now, Janice, dear!"
"I don't care, Daddy, just this once! Why, this afternoon threeof the girls were here, and after they left Miss Peckham calledme over to the fence and asked me when the Beemans were going toCanada.
"The Beemans talk of going there before long, but are not certainabout it; and Annette told the rest of us girls all about it as agreat secret. Miss Peckham
deliberately listened at her window, and then, because shecouldn't hear all we said, she tried to make me tell her thewhole story. Now, isn't that mean?"
"Oh, well, Janice--"
"You wouldn't listen like that, Daddy Day, and you wouldn't letme, so there!"
"Maybe not, Janice. But then, you know, we do many things thatMiss Peckham does not approve of--many things that she would notthink of doing."
"Now, Daddy, you are joking! You know you are!"
"Maybe so--half way. But then we are responsible for ourselves,and not for Miss Peckham. But I am sorry, daughter, that shetroubles you. Perhaps," he added more lightly, "we shall getthings on a more satisfactory basis here before long, and thenMiss Peckham will not think it necessary to look after us somuch."
"You know better than that, Daddy Day. Miss Peckham will lookafter us till we are hundreds of years old," answered Janice.But now she spoke with a smile on her lips.
The disappointment of the coming and going of Bridget Burns madeboth father and daughter shrink from trying another houseworkerunless she appeared more than ordinarily promising. So for a dayor two daddy went personally to the agencies and looked theprospective workers over. His reports to Janice were nothopeful.
"Oh, dear me, Daddy!" Janice sighed, "I do wish I could do itall. Maybe I ought only to go to school part time--"
"No, my dear. We will scrabble along as best we can. You mustnot neglect the studies."
"At any rate," she exclaimed, "it will soon be vacation time. Ican do ever so much more in the house then."
"Nor do I believe that is a good plan," her father said, shakinghis head. "The best thing that could happen to you would be foryou to go away for a change. I have a good mind to send you backEast. Your Aunt Almira--"
"Oh, Daddy! Never! You don't mean it?" cried the girl.
"Why, you'll like your Aunt Almira. Of course, Jase Day is notsuch an up-and-coming chap as one might wish; but he is a goodsort, at that. And there is your cousin, Marty."
"But I don't know any of them," sighed Janice. "And I don't wantto leave you."
"But if we cannot get any help--"
"I'll get along. What would you do in this house alone if I wentaway?" she demanded.
"I'd shut it up and go down to the Laurel House to board."
"Oh, that's awful!"
"No. I get my lunch there now. It's not very bad," said BroxtonDay, smiling.
"I mean it's awful to think of shutting up our home for thesummer. You haven't got to go away to Mexico, have you, Daddy?"she queried with sudden suspicion.
"Well, my dear, it may be necessary," he confessed.
"And you'd send me away to Vermont while you were gone?"
"I don't know what else to do--if the necessity arises. Jase Dayis my half-brother--the only living relative I have. Yourmother's people are all scattered. I wouldn't know what else todo with you, my dear."
"Mercy!" she sighed, winking back the tears, "it sounds as thoughI--I were what you call a 'liability' in your bank business.Isn't that it? Why, Daddy! I want to be an 'asset,' not a'liability.'"
"Bless you, my dear, you are! A great, big asset!" he laughed."But you must not neglect the necessary preparation for lifewhich your studies give you. Nor must I let you overwork. Havepatience--and hope. Perhaps we shall be able to find a reallygood housekeeper, after all."
When, on Wednesday afternoons Janice came home from school, shesaw Miss Peckham beckoning to her from her front porch, the girlhad no suspicion that the maiden lady was about to interfere inher and daddy's affairs. No, indeed!
"Now I wonder what she wants!" murmured Janice, going reluctantlytoward the Peckham house. "And she's got company, too."
The spinster was sitting on her porch behind the honeysucklevines, with her sewing table and the big parrot, Ambrose, chainedto his perch beside her. There was, too, a second woman on theporch.
"Good afternoon, Miss Peckham," Janice said, swinging her booksas she came up the walk from Miss Peckham's gate. "Hello,Polly!"
"Polly wants cracker!" declared the bird, flapping his wings anddoing a funny little dance on his perch.
"Be still!" commanded Miss Peckham. With her sharp little blackeyes she glanced from Janice to the other woman. "This is thegirl," she said.
Janice, feeling as though she was under some important scrutinylooked at the second woman in curiosity. She found her a notunpleasant looking person. She was much wrinkled, yet her cheekswere rather pink and her lips very vivid. Janice wondered if itwas possible that this color was put on by hand.
The woman sat in a rocking chair with her long hands folded idlyin her lap. On the hands were white "half mits"--somethingJanice knew were long out of fashion but which were onceconsidered very stylish indeed.
The woman's eyes were a shallow brown color--perhaps "faded"would be a better expression. It seemed as though she were toolanguid even to look with attention at any one or anything.
"This is the girl, Sophrony," Miss Peckham repeated more sharply.
"Oh, yes," murmured the strange woman, as though awakened from abrown study. "Yes. Quite a pretty little girl."
"Pretty is as pretty does," scoffed Miss Peckham. "At any rate,she's healthy. Ain't you, Janice Day?"
"Ah--oh--yes, ma'am!" stammered Janice, "I guess I am."
"Well, I don't see the doctor going to your house none," saidMiss Peckham, in her snappy way. "I guess I would ha' seen himif he'd called."
"Oh, yes," agreed Janice, "you would have seen him."
"Heh?" Miss Peckham stared at the little girl sharply. But shesaw that Janice was quite innocent in making her comment."Well," said the maiden lady, "this is Mrs. Watkins."
Considering this an introduction, Janice came forward and offeredthe faded looking woman her hand. Mrs. Watkins' own handreminded Janice of a dead fish, and she was quite as glad to dropit as Mrs. Watkins seemed to be to have it dropped.
"Oh, yes," said the latter woman, "she is a pretty girl."
"Mrs. Watkins has come to see me," explained Miss Peckham. "Shean' I have been friends for years and years. We used to go toschool together when we were girls."
"Oh!" said Janice. But she could think of nothing else to say.She did not understand why she was being taken into MissPeckham's confidence.
"Yes, Sophrony Watkins and I--Sophrony Shepley was her maidenname. She married Tom Watkins--and Tom was a shiftless critter,if there ever was one."
Janice was startled. Miss Peckham seemed to be unnecessarilyplain spoken. But the languid Mrs. Watkins made no comment.
"And now Sophrony has come down to doin' for herself," went onthe neighborhood censor. "I sent for her to come over here.She's been livin' in Marietteville. You tell your pa that we'llcome into see him to-night after supper."
"Oh!" murmured Janice. Then she "remembered her manners," andsaid, s
miling: "Please do, Miss Peckham. I will tell daddy youare coming."
Miss Peckham waved her hand to dismiss her young neighbor. "Andif 'twas me," she said complacently to her companion, "firstthing I'd do would be to cure that young one of calling herfather 'daddy.' That's silly."
Even this remark did not forewarn Janice of what was coming. "Ijust believe," she thought, going on her way, "that thatfaded-out little woman is a book agent and will want to selldaddy a set of books he'll never in this world read."
But in getting dinner and tidying up the dining room and livingroom, Janice forgot all about Mrs. Sophronia Watkins. Janice wasworking very hard these days-- much harder than any girl of herage should work. The evening before she had fallen asleep overher studies, and to-day her recitations had not been quite up tothe mark.
The lack of system in the housekeeping made everything harder forher, too. It was all right for daddy to help wash the dinnerdishes, and even to blacken the range and the gas stove as he didon this evening, but there were dozens of things going wrongevery day in the house which neither Janice nor her father couldhelp.
There were the provision bills. Janice knew very well that thebutcher took advantage of her ignorance. She was always in ahurry in the morning, running to school; and she could not stopto see meat weighed, or vegetables properly picked out andmeasured.
At Mr. Harriman's, the grocer's, it was not so bad. There werecertain articles of established standard that she knew her motherhad always ordered; but in the matter of butter and cheese andeggs, she realized that she often ordered the best, and gotsecond or third quality and first-quality prices.
Had she been able to spend the time marketing she would haveconserved some of daddy's money and things would have been muchbetter on the table. Yet, with the kind of houseworkers they hadhad, much of the good food that was bought was spoiled in thecooking.
Daddy sometimes said: "The Lord sends the food, but the cooksdon't all come from heaven, that is sure, Janice."
He was vigorously polishing the cookstove on this Wednesdayevening and they were cheerfully talking and joking, when thesound of bootheels on the side porch announced the coming ofvisitors.
"Oh, dear me! who can that be?" whispered Janice.
"Save me, My Lady--save me!" cried daddy, appearing to be verymuch frightened, and dodging behind the stove. "Don't let theneighbors in until I have got rid of this blacking brush and goton my vest and coat--"
But the caller who now hammered on the door with quick knuckleswas no bashful person. Mr. Day had no chance to escape from thekitchen Miss Peckham turned the knob and walked right in.
"Come in, Sophrony," she said, over her shoulder, to the personwho came behind her. "You can see well enough that this man andhis gal need somebody to take hold for 'em. Come right in."