CHAPTER VI
SPEND-THE-DAY GUESTS
THERE was a storm that night and next day a heavy fog dropped down likea thick white veil over town and sea. It was so cold that Jeremy lighteda fire, not only in the living room but in the guest chamber across thehall.
A week earlier Tippy had announced, "It'll never do to let CousinMehitable Huntingdon go back to Hyannis without having broken bread withus. She'd talk about it to the end of her days, if we were the onlyrelations in town who failed to ask her in to a meal, during herfortnight's visit. And, of course, if we ask her, all the family she'sstaying with ought to be invited, and we've never had the new ministerand his wife here to eat. Might as well do it all up at once while we'reabout it."
Spend-the-day guests were rare in Georgina's experience. The grandpreparations for their entertainment which went on that morning put thenew partnership and the treasure-quest far into the background. Sheforgot it entirely while the dining-room table, stretched to its limit,was being set with the best china and silver as if for a Thanksgivingfeast. Mrs. Fayal, the mother of Manuel and Joseph and Rosa, came overto help in the kitchen, and Tippy whisked around so fast that Georgina,tagging after, was continually meeting her coming back.
Georgina was following to ask questions about the expected guests. Sheliked the gruesome sound of that term "blood relations" as Tippy usedit, and wanted to know all about this recently discovered "in-law," thewidow of her grandfather's cousin, Thomas Huntingdon. Barby could nottell her and Mrs. Triplett, too busy to be bothered, set her down toturn the leaves of the family album. But the photograph of CousinMehitable had been taken when she was a boarding-school miss in adisfiguring hat and basque, and bore little resemblance to the imposingpersonage who headed the procession of visitors, arriving promptly ateleven o'clock.
When Cousin Mehitable came into the room in her widow's bonnet with thelong black veil hanging down behind, she seemed to fill the place as themassive black walnut wardrobe upstairs filled the alcove. She lifted hereyeglasses from the hook on her dress to her hooked nose to look atGeorgina before she kissed her. Under that gaze the child felt as awedas if the big wardrobe had bent over and put a wooden kiss on herforehead and said in a deep, whispery sort of voice, "So this is theJudge's granddaughter. How do you do, my dear?"
All the guests were middle aged and most of them portly. There were somany that they filled all the chairs and the long claw-foot sofabesides. Georgina sat on a foot-stool, her hands folded in her lap untilthe others took out their knitting and embroidery. Then she ran to getthe napkin she was hemming. The husbands who had been invited did notarrive until time to sit down to dinner and they left immediately afterthe feast.
Georgina wished that everybody would keep still and let one guest at atime do the talking. After the first few minutes of general conversationthe circle broke into little groups, and it wasn't possible to followthe thread of the story in more than one. Each group kept bringing tolight some bit of family history that she wanted to hear or some oldfamily joke which they laughed over as if it were the funniest thingthat ever happened. It was tantalizing not to be able to hear them all.It made her think of times when she rummaged through the chests in theattic, pulling out fascinating old garments and holding them up forTippy to supply their history. But this was as bad as opening all thechests at once. While she was busy with one she was missing all that wasbeing hauled out to the light of day from the others.
Several times she moved her foot-stool from one group to another, drawnby some sentence such as, "Well, she certainly was the prettiest bride Iever laid my two eyes on, but not many of us would want to stand in hershoes now." Or from across the room, "They do say it was what happenedthe night of the wreck that unbalanced his mind, but I've always thoughtit was having things go at sixes and sevens at home as they did."
Georgina would have settled herself permanently near Cousin Mehitable,she being the most dramatic and voluble of them all, but she had atantalizing way of lowering her voice at the most interesting part, andwhispering the last sentence behind her hand. Georgina was nearlyconsumed with curiosity each time that happened, and fairly ached toknow these whispered revelations.
It was an entrancing day--the dinner so good, the ancient jokes passingaround the table all so new and witty to Georgina, hearing them now forthe first time. She wished that a storm would come up to keep everybodyat the house overnight and thus prolong the festal feeling. She likedthis "Company" atmosphere in which everyone seemed to grow expansive ofsoul and gracious of speech. She loved every relative she had to theremotest "in-law."
Her heart swelled with a great thankfulness to think that she was not anorphan. Had she been one there would have been no one to remark that hereyes were exactly like Justin's and she carried herself like aHuntingdon, but that she must have inherited her smile from the otherside of the house. Barbara had that same smile and winning way with her.It was pleasant to be discussed when only pleasant things were said,and to have her neat stitches exclaimed over and praised as they werepassed around.
She thought about it again after dinner, and felt so sorry for childrenwho were orphans, that she decided to spend a large part of her share ofthe buried treasure in making them happy. She was sure that Richardwould give part of his share, too, when he found it, and when thepicture show which they were going to buy was in good running order,they would make it a rule that orphans should always be let in free.
She came back from this pleasant day-dream to hear Cousin Mehitablesaying, "Speaking of thieves, does anyone know what ever became of poorDan Darcy?"
Nobody knew, and they all shook their heads and said that it was a pitythat he had turned out so badly. It was hard to believe it of him whenhe had always been such a kind, pleasant-spoken boy, just like hisfather; and if ever there was an honest soul in the whole round world itwas the old Towncrier.
At that Georgina gave such a start that she ran her needle into herthumb, and a tiny drop of blood spurted out. She did not know that UncleDarcy had a son. She had never heard his name mentioned before. She hadbeen at his house many a time, and there never was anyone there besideshimself except his wife, "Aunt Elspeth" (who was so old and feeble thatshe stayed in bed most of the time), and the three cats, "John Darcy andMary Darcy and old Yellownose." That's the way the old man always spokeof them. He called them his family.
Georgina was glad that the minister's wife was a newcomer in the townand asked to have it explained. Everybody contributed a scrap of thestory, for all side conversations stopped at the mention of Dan Darcy'sname, and the interest of the whole room centered on him.
It was years ago, when he was not more than eighteen that it happened.He was a happy-go-lucky sort of fellow who couldn't be kept down tosteady work such as a job in the bank or a store. He was always offa-fishing or on the water, but everybody liked him and said he'd settledown when he was a bit older. He had a friend much like himself, only alittle older. Emmett Potter was his name. There was a regular David andJonathan friendship between those two. They were hand-in-glove ineverything till Dan went wrong. Both even liked the same girl, BelleTriplett.
Here Georgina's needle gave her another jab. She laid down her hemmingto listen. This was bringing the story close home, for Belle Triplettwas Tippy's niece, or rather her husband's niece. While that did notmake Belle one of the Huntingdon family, Georgina had always looked uponher as such. She visited at the house oftener than anyone else.
Nobody in the room came right out and said what it was that Dan haddone, but by putting the scraps together Georgina discovered presentlythat the trouble was about some stolen money. Lots of people wouldn'tbelieve that he was guilty at first, but so many things pointed his waythat finally they had to. The case was about to be brought to trial whenone night Dan suddenly disappeared as if the sea had swallowed him, andnothing had ever been heard from him since. Judge Huntingdon said it wasa pity, for even if he was guilty he thought he could have got him off,there being nothing but circumstantial evi
dence.
Well, it nearly killed his father and mother and Emmett Potter, too.
It came out then that Emmett was engaged to Belle. For nearly a year hegrieved about Dan's disappearance. Seems he took it to heart so that hecouldn't bear to do any of the things they'd always done together or goto the old places. Belle had her wedding dress made and thought if shecould once get him down to Truro to live, he'd brace up and get over it.
They had settled on the day, when one wild, stormy night word came thata vessel was pounding itself to pieces off Peaked Hill Bar, and thelife-saving crew was starting to the rescue. Emmett lit out to see it,and when something happened to the breeches buoy so they couldn't useit, he was the first to answer when the call came for volunteers to mana boat to put out to them. He would have had a medal if he'd lived towear it, for he saved five lives that night. But he lost his own thelast time he climbed up on the vessel. Nobody knew whether it was a ropegave way or whether his fingers were so nearly frozen he couldn't holdon, but he dropped into that raging sea, and his body was washed up onthe beach next day.
Georgina listened, horrified.
"And Belle with her wedding dress all ready," said Cousin Mehitable witha husky sigh.
"What became of her?" asked the minister's wife.
"Oh, she's still living here in town, but it blighted her whole life ina way, although she was just in her teens when it happened. It helpedher to bear up, knowing he'd died such a hero. Some of the town peopleput up a tombstone to his memory, with a beautiful inscription on itthat the summer people go to see, almost as much as the landing place ofthe Pilgrims. She'll be true to his memory always, and it's somethingbeautiful to see her devotion to Emmett's father. She calls him "Father"Potter, and is always doing things for him. He's that old net-mender wholives alone out on the edge of town near the cranberry bogs."
Cousin Mehitable took up the tale:
"I'll never forget if I live to be a hundred, what I saw on my way homethe night after Emmett was drowned. I was living here then, you know. Iwas passing through Fishburn Court, and I thought I'd go in and speak aword to Mr. Darcy, knowing how fond he'd always been of Emmett onaccount of Dan and him being such friends. I went across that sandyplace they call the Court, to the row of cottages at the end. But Ididn't see anything until I had opened the Darcy's gate and stepped intothe yard. The house sits sideways to the Court, you know.
"The yellow blind was pulled down over the front window, but the lampthrew a shadow on it, plain as a photograph. It was the shadow of theold man, sitting there with his arms flung out across the table, and hishead bowed down on them. I was just hesitating, whether to knock or toslip away, when I heard him groan, and sort of cry out, "Oh, my Danny!My Danny! If only you could have gone _that_ way.""
Barbara, hearing a muffled sob behind her, turned to see the tearsrunning down Georgina's face. The next instant she was up, and with herarms around the child, was gently pushing her ahead of her out of theroom, into the hall. With the door shut behind her she said soothingly:
"Barby didn't know they were going to tell such unhappy stories,darling. I shouldn't have let you stay."
"But I _want_ to know," sobbed Georgina. "When people you love havetrouble you ought to know, so's to be kinder to them. Oh, Barby, I'm sosorry I ever was saucy to him. And I wish I hadn't teased his cats. Itied paper bags on all of John Darcy and Mary Darcy's paws, and he saidI made old Y-yellownose n-nervous, tickling his ears----"
Barbara stopped the sobbing confessions with a kiss and took Georgina'sjacket from the hat-rack.
"Here," she said. "It's bad for you to sit in the house all day andlisten to grown people talk. Slip into this and run outdoors with yourskipping rope a while. Uncle Darcy has had very great trouble, but he'slearned to bear it like a hero, and nothing would make him grieve morethan to know that any shadow of his sorrow was making you unhappy. Theway for you to help him most is to be as bright and jolly as you can,and to _tease_ his old cats once in a while."
Georgina looked up through her tears, her dimples all showing, and threwher arms around her adoringly.
"What a funny mother you are, Barby. Not a bit like the ones in books."
A cold wind was blowing the fog away. She raced up and down the beachfor a long time, and when she came back it was with red cheeks andruffled curls. Having left the company in tears she did not like toventure back for fear of the remarks which might be made. So shecrossed the hall and stood in the door of the guest chamber, consideringwhat to do next. Its usual chill repellance had been changed intosomething inviting by the wood fire on the hearth, and on the bed wherethe guests had deposited their wraps lay an array of millinery whichdrew her irresistibly.
It was a huge four-poster bed which one could mount only by the aid of aset of bedside steps, and so high that the valance, draped around itlike a skirt, would have reached from her neck to her heels had it beendraped on her. It was a chintz valance with birds of paradise patternedon its pink background, and there was pink silk quilled into the quainttester overhead, reminding her of old Jeremy's favorite quill dahlias.
Usually when she went into this room which was seldom opened, shemounted the steps to gaze up at that fascinating pink loveliness. Alsoshe walked around the valance, counting its birds of paradise. She didnot do so to-day. She knew from many previous countings that there wereexactly eighty-seven and a half of those birds. The joining seam cut offall but the magnificent tail of what would have been the eighty-eighth.
Mounting the steps she leaned over, careful not to touch the crochetedcounterpane, which Tippy always treated as if it were something sacred,and looked at the hats spread out upon it. Then she laid daring fingerson Cousin Mehitable's bonnet. It was a temptation to know what she wouldlook like if she should grow up to be a widow and have to wear animposing head-gear like that with a white ruche in front and a longblack veil floating down behind. The next instant she was tying thestrings under her chin.
It made her look like such an odd little dwarf of a woman that she stuckout her tongue at her reflection in the mirror. The grimace was socomical, framed by the stately bonnet, that Georgina was delighted. Shetwisted her face another way and was still more amused at results.Wholly forgetful of the fact that it was a mourning bonnet, she went onmaking faces at herself until the sound of voices suddenly growinglouder, told her that the door across the hall had opened. Someone wascoming across.
There was no time to take off the bonnet. With a frightened gasp shedived under the bed, with it still on, her heels disappearing just assomeone came into the room. The bed was so high she could easily situpright under it, but she was so afraid that a cough or a sneeze mightbetray her, that she drew up her knees and sat with her face pressedagainst them hard. The long veil shrouded her shoulders. She felt thatshe would surely die if anyone should notice that the bonnet was gone,or happen to lift the valance and find her sitting there with it on herhead. Then she forgot her fear in listening to what Cousin Mehitable wassaying.