CHAPTER XXII
EXCITEMENT
Mrs. Stratford was interested in Martine's account of her interview withBalfour Airton.
"I should certainly like to see him, and if he's as you describe him,and I am sure he is, I should be glad to welcome him as a long lostcousin. From what Mrs. Redmond has said, I'm sure that he contributed agreat deal to your pleasure last summer."
Several days passed and Balfour did not appear. At last Mrs. Stratfordsent a note to the headquarters of the trolley line addressed to Balfourand inviting him to tea. On the appointed evening he made his appearanceat Red Knoll.
"It is not often," he said, "that I can get enough time off to accept aninvitation of this kind; but I can tell you that it's very delightful tobe among friends. That's the worst of going so far from home. You'reamong strangers and nobody cares especially for you."
Although Martine and her mother were both somewhat curious as to whathad brought Balfour to this corner of the world, for the moment theyasked no questions. Martine inquired about Eunice.
"Of course she writes regularly to Priscilla," she said, "and Priscillakeeps me informed about Annapolis happenings. Do you think your sisterwill go to college?"
Balfour shook his head.
"I am not sure; I am not even sure that Eunice knows her own mind; butif she does wish to go to college, some one will certainly find a wayfor her to carry out her wishes."
Martine, looking at him, felt that Balfour was likely to be that "someone."
"I ought to say," added Balfour, turning to Mrs. Stratford, "that themoney so kindly sent Eunice last autumn did an immense amount of good.It was the first money of her own that she had ever had to handle, and Imay add," he concluded smiling, "that she has at least half of it stillstored away for a rainy day."
At last Martine could not control her curiosity.
"How did you happen to think of coming up here?" she asked.
"Oh, some of my friends had had opportunities as extra men on the NewEngland trolley lines, and I decided that I could spend my time moreprofitably here than on the vehicle I drove last summer.
"That wasn't such a bad vehicle," interposed Martine. "If you hadn'tbeen driving it, I might still be lost in the fog."
During this conversation the three had gone outside to sit. And now inthe darkness they heard a voice inquiring anxiously, "Is this RedKnoll?"
"It's Mr. Gamut," exclaimed Martine, and rushing forward, was soongreeting the old gentleman.
"I've only just come back," he cried volubly after he had joined thegroup. "You must have thought it strange that I disappeared socompletely; but I was called away on business, and my niece has beenvisiting friends on the South Shore. Now tell me about your father; whatdo you hear? Good news, I hope."
Martine said nothing.
"What we hear is indefinite," said Mrs. Stratford.
"Oh, well, 'no news is good news' and you must expect the best. Youngpeople who have no care don't realize the ups and downs of life; theyexpect things to move along in an upward line. You, young man," hecontinued, "expect life to continue to be one continual round ofpleasure; you bathe, play golf, drive, have evening excursions, and it'sall right for the summer; but after a while you will have a hard hill toclimb, and that is right too; it's part of life; only you mustn't letthe summer spoil you."
"Oh, but Mr. Gamut," began Martine.
"Yes, I know," said Mr. Gamut, turning to Balfour, "you think perhapsthere needn't be a hill for every one."
"I think I know what Miss Stratford meant to say; she meant to tell youthat I am not a pleasure seeker, but a worker. I am simply a conductoron the trolley line."
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the old gentleman, and though the light wastoo dim for him really to see, Balfour realized that Mr. Gamut hadraised his glasses and had fixed his eyes upon him.
"A conductor!" he exclaimed; "how extraordinary! do you really think itwill lead to something? That's what a young man should always askhimself."
"It will lead to my having more money at the end of the season than Ihad before," responded Balfour.
"Yes, yes; but it's very unusual." Before Mr. Gamut could complete hissentence, a loud scream from the direction of the kitchen fell on theears of the four.
"I wish Angelina were not so excitable," said Mrs. Stratford. "It takesso little to make her scream; probably she has seen a mouse."
When the scream rang out a second time, Balfour started to his feet andin another instant was racing to the gate in pursuit of a flying figure;an instant later, the others had reached Angelina.
"It was a burglar," she cried. "He was opening the trunks in the ellroom, and when I came through with the safety lamp in my hand I saw himplainly, and he started and ran, leaving his booty on the floor," sheconcluded dramatically.
"But those were empty trunks," cried Martine, climbing the stairs.
"Come and see," said Angelina, leading the way upstairs, where indeedthe floor was strewn with clothing. Martine picked up a delicate muslinskirt.
"This isn't mine, mamma," she said. "The man must have had a bundle withhim that he dropped here; these things are not mine; it all seems veryqueer."
"Yes," said Angelina, "especially as the burglar is an old acquaintanceof mine."
Thoughts of collusion crossed Mrs. Stratford's mind while Angelinacontinued:
"It was years and years ago, and I'd know him anywhere; especiallybecause I've seen his twin brother since, and he looks just like him,though this wasn't the twin. He's an honest man and he lives in Salem."
"Let us get out into the fresh air again," said Mrs. Stratford. "I feelfaint."
"Angelina's story makes me feel fainter," added Martine.
"I hope that interesting young conductor hasn't been hurt by theburglar; if he should catch him, I wonder if he'd know what to do withhim."
"We can only wait."
Their time of waiting was not long. Balfour came back rathercrestfallen.
"He gave me a great run," said Balfour, "and I couldn't catch up withhim. But I'm sure he won't trouble you again, and on my way home I'lltelephone so that the authorities here and in Portsmouth can be on thelookout for him. Do you suppose he took anything of yours?"
"I hardly think so," replied Martine, "he seems to have left somethingbehind him."
"Oh, he's nothing but a sneak thief," continued Angelina. "I know him."
"A friend of yours?" asked Balfour in surprise.
"Oh, Angelina was just going to tell us about him," said Mrs. Stratford,trying to repress certain suspicions regarding Angelina that had come toher since the girl had said that she knew the intruder.
"It was this way," continued Angelina, pleased, as usual, to be thecentre of interest. "It was my mother he took the money from a long timeago, when she lived at the North End. It was the money that was to takeus to the country, that Miss Brenda and her Club had made at a bazaar;and he went off to some far country, and now he's come back, I supposehe'll go on stealing. Miss Brenda had to make up the money out of herown allowance, because she had been careless in giving the money toosoon to my mother. So if you had caught this thief, Mister--" hereAngelina hesitated, not knowing Balfour's name,--"we might haverecovered what he took."
"I'm sorry that I did not," replied the young man, "but I'll do my bestto help some one else catch him."
A little later Mr. Gamut and Balfour walked off together, and the RedKnoll household, left to itself, talked over the exciting evening. Mr.Gamut and Balfour had both offered to stay, or even to sit up all nightif Mrs. Stratford or the girls felt timid. But at last all agreed thatthe intruder had been so effectually put to flight that there was nodanger of his returning.
That night Martine's dreams were filled with visions of a burglarchasing Balfour, with Mr. Gamut in a white muslin skirt followingclosely in pursuit. They were all late for breakfast, and were still atthe table when the grocer brought the mail. There was but one letter forMartine, and she read it eagerly.
"What do
you think?" she asked, when she had finished. "Elinor is goingto stay over at York on her way to the mountains. She is to be at theHotel for a day or two. Oh, I wish that she could stay here! What do youthink, mamma? she could be comfortable in my room, and I would take thelittle one next."
"Certainly, my dear, you may ask her as soon as she arrives. When doesshe arrive?"
"Why, it must be to-day--for this is Thursday. I wonder why the letterwas so slow. I'll go over as soon as the work is done."
Now it happened that Elinor herself made the first visit, as she hadcome in from Portsmouth on an early train. After they had talked ofother things for half an hour, Martine told Elinor of their excitementof the evening before.
"Are you sure he didn't take anything?" asked Elinor. "I should thinkyou wouldn't have slept a wink. I should have been awake all night aftersuch a fright."
"I can't say I was frightened; it seemed rather funny. Do come upstairswith me now. I must see what the man left behind."
Elinor followed Martine upstairs.
"Why, Martine, what is this?" she cried, raising the white skirt "Itis--why, it must be the gown I lost Class Day--and this--it really is mytrunk," and she gave Martine a severe glance as she bent toward a smalltrunk in the corner.
"Nonsense," cried Martine. "That is a skirt the burglar left, part ofhis 'booty,' as Angelina calls it, and this is one of our packingtrunks. It has been here all summer."
"But it has my name on it," protested Elinor.
Martine shook her head. Elinor's manner reminded her of her manner onthe day of their first meeting, and it annoyed her.
Nevertheless she bent down towards the label on the trunk.
"Don't look at me in that tone of voice," she said gayly, as she turnedagain toward her friend. "The label is certainly marked,
"_Miss Elinor Naylor_ _The Belhaven, Boston_
and now that I look at it closely I can see that this is not one of ourtrunks. But how did it come here, Angelina?"
"Oh, Miss Martine, we brought the trunk with us from Boston. It was inthe storeroom. I don't know anything about it, except it came the daybefore Class Day. There was a laundress working there that afternoon,and I remember she told me she had had a trunk sent to the trunk-room. Isupposed you told her, and of course when we moved, all the trunks camehere. You told me they were to come."
"Perhaps you are not altogether to blame, Angelina, although I wish thatyou had said something to mamma or me, and I still don't understand whythe trunk was sent to us."
It was now Elinor's turn to explain. "I understand it all. When I leftBar Harbor for Class Day, I simply put on a tag with my name and Ididn't notice this old label, which was the one I used when I spent aday or two with you in the spring. The expressman followed the Belhaventag, instead of keeping my trunk with Kate's aunt,--so if any one is toblame, it is I for leaving that tag on."
"I am not so sure of that," replied Martine. "If I had been a reallyup-to-date housekeeper I should have known exactly what trunks came downto York. Now I only hope that our burglar didn't make way with any ofyour things."
"We'll soon know;" already Elinor was on her knees before the trunk.
"No" she said, "I hardly think he took anything. The trunk is closelypacked below the tray, and the tray would hold little more than thesethings he tumbled out. But I remember a set of topaz studs in a box thatI put in this corner. The box is not here."
After a careful search neither she nor Martine could find the studs. ButElinor was philosophical over this loss.
"In finding the trunk I feel as if I had recovered a small fortune--andI can bear the loss of the studs. I daresay Kate will be pleased to getback her things, although she is so up-to-date, that she may considerthese class-day clothes old-fashioned now, as they were made to wear twomonths ago."
"How ridiculous!" exclaimed Martine, "and yet," she admitted, "I canremember when I would not wear anything that was not of the very latest,but now--why this is a last year's shirt-waist, and you know how thesleeves have changed."
A few hours later Martine and Elinor were telling the story of the"Class-day trunk," as they dubbed it, to a group of merry young peopleon the piazza of the hotel, and every one teased Martine about her skillin abstracting so important a part of Elinor's wardrobe.
After a day or two at the hotel, Elinor began a visit at Martine's thatlengthened itself into a week, and during her friend's stay Martine'slife was as gay as that of the gayest at the Harbor. She drove, she satat noon with the gay throng under the pavilion to watch the bathers. Shewould not bathe, because she had brought no bathing-suit to York, andbecause it was too late in the season, she said, to begin a course ofspectacular bathing. She went with a sailing party on Herbert'scat-boat, although before Elinor's arrival she had refused all hisinvitations. She spent two mornings at the Club watching the tennistournament, and she accepted invitations to two luncheons given inElinor's honor.
"Martine," said Mrs. Stratford, two or three days after Elinor'sarrival, "Would you not like to have a luncheon for Elinor? On a smallscale we could manage it very well."
"Oh yes, Mrs. Stratford," interposed Angelina, who overheard thesuggestion. "I've just been longing for Miss Martine to have some kindof an entertainment. There's something going on every day, and I don'tlike Miss Martine to be the only one that doesn't entertain--not thatI'd be so presuming as to talk of anything you hadn't spoken ofyourself," she concluded hastily. She was bright enough to notice anexpression of surprise on Mrs. Stratford's face.
"It would make some trouble for you," said Martine.
"Oh, I wouldn't mind that, and I'm always happy when there's somethinggoing on."
"Lucian's last letter was more cheerful;" Martine said this to draw hermother out.
"Yes, my dear, and I am sure you need not let your father's health standin the way of your party. I am sure that he is better."
"But ought we to spend money in that way?"
"It will not cost much."
"I know,--but still."
"There, write your notes. They should be sent at once."
"Instead of a luncheon, mamma, let me have a tea late in the afternoonand ask boys as well. Herbert has been very good to Elinor, and Athertonhas given us a lot of time, and there are several others. I wish Ineedn't ask Carlotta, but I must. However, I can leave out the most ofher crowd."
Elinor helped Martine write the notes, and Angelina took hold of thepreparations with a heartiness that spoke for success.
The tables were spread out-doors, one for serving chocolate and coffee,one for lemonade. Elinor and Clare gathered flowers in abundance,especially great clusters of St. Anne's lace, that proved a mosteffective table decoration.
In spite of the short notice nearly all whom Martine invited acceptedthe invitation, even Carlotta and two or three of her set, who "neverwould be missed," said Martine almost ruefully as she read theirreplies.
"Then why did you ask them?" Elinor's tone was reproachful.
"Oh, because--well, because I had no good reason for leaving them out.They have all invited me to something or other, and of course in one wayI want them, only Carlotta is so critical that I hate to think of hermaking fun of things here."
"She will have cause to be critical if you do not hurry down to thevillage for that extra cream. It's strange they forgot to leave it thismorning. Of course," concluded Elinor, "I think that Carlotta might havebeen prompter in answering your invitation, but when she comes she'll beon her best behavior."
Now it chanced that as Martine was returning from the village, warm anda little tired, carrying a large bottle of cream under one arm and apackage of odds and ends on the other, she met Carlotta and three orfour others driving rapidly down from the Club. How it happened Martinenever knew, but an unlucky stumble made her lose her hold of the bottle,and as it flew into the road the cream emptied itself in a sticky poolin the dusty road.
Poor Martine! The drag slowed up. She thought she heard ahalf-suppressed outburst o
f laughter. But in a moment Herbert stoodbeside her. He had slipped down from the drag, and he looked at her nowas if waiting for her to tell him what to do.
"Let me help you," he said at last.
"Help me!" cried Martine scornfully.
"'Oh, Phoebe you have torn your dress! Where are your berries, child?'
"There, Herbert, that is the way I feel. To think that I must go back tothe village for a second bottle of cream! We are all in a hurry, andthey are waiting for me. Angelina herself could not have done worse."
"Of course you won't turn back. Go home with the other things, and Iwill bring you your cream."
So eager was Herbert to be of use that he hardly listened to Martine'sthanks, and Martine, to her own great surprise, for once in her lifefound herself ready to obey one to whom she was not in the habit oflooking up. For Herbert, although nearer Lucian's age than Martine's,always seemed to the latter like a younger boy whom she could orderaround. In the present emergency she was thankful for Herbert's help andpleased enough to receive the cream that he brought from the village.
When her guests arrived at the appointed hour, Martine was fairly proudof the appearance of Red Knoll. She had had the grass clipped the daybefore, and the lawn, if stubbly on close inspection, at least was of avivid green. The old-fashioned garden at the side that had been thepride of the former occupants of the farm, was now in full bloom, andalmost all the chairs had been brought from the house to be set underthe trees or farther up in the meadow, where those who wished couldenjoy the rather unusual view.
With the chairs removed, the dining-room seemed almost spacious, andthere Peggy at one end of the table and Clare at the other servedchocolate and lemonade. The afternoon passed quickly away. Martineforgot her first anxiety when she saw that her friends were evidentlyenjoying themselves.
"I am surprised to see you here," Peggy exclaimed to Herbert. "Isn't ita great condescension? I thought you had vowed never to go to a tea atYork."
"Generally this kind of thing is a bore, and I had fairly hard work toget the other fellows to come. But I told them that anything Martine didwas sure to pass off well, and it's true."
"This is just like any other tea," protested Peggy, remembering thatHerbert had never accepted one of her invitations.
"Oh, it's smaller than others," responded Herbert, "and every one knowsevery one and we all feel that we can do as we like--and no one iswearing white gloves," he concluded, as if he had made a specialdiscovery.
"There are no gloves of any color so far as I can see," retorted Peggy.
"That's just it, we can have a good time here, because everything isunconventional. But, alas, here is Carlotta--" and Herbert moved rapidlyin the opposite direction from his sister.
Although Carlotta seldom said really disagreeable things, something inher manner excited Martine's antagonism.
"She need not have referred to the spilt cream," thought the latter,after a word or two with Carlotta. "She must know I hate to be remindedthat I cut a ridiculous figure."
"Oh yes," she continued aloud, "I am too busy to do much pleasuring thissummer. The house gives me plenty to do, and I have some extrastudying."
"We heard you were going to college," said one of Martine's friends.
"Yes," added Carlotta, "but I shouldn't think you'd quite like to. Itmakes a girl so conspicuous to go to college."
"A college girl isn't half so conspicuous as a golf-champion. Why, I sawyour picture in a Sunday paper last month, Carlotta, beside a prizebicycle rider's, and your weight and height and all kinds of thingsabout you were there, too."
Martine spoke hotly, as she was apt to when excited, and Carlotta madeno reply.
"If I go to college," continued Martine, "I fear I'll never bedistinguished enough to have my portrait in print." Then, rememberingthat personal speeches of this kind were not in good taste from ahostess to a guest, she changed the subject to something lessirritating. But Carlotta turned away, only half mollified.
"Elinor," cried Martine, as the last of her guests went home, "this teahas been bad for me; it has given me a taste for society that will worryme the rest of the summer."
"There's no reason why you shouldn't be a little gayer."
"Oh, yes, there is, every reason. If things go better, I'll have my turnin a year or two when I am really out, and if things go ill, why I shallbury myself in work. Really, I meant what I said to Carlotta. I do meanto try for college. It would be fun to pass the examinations withPriscilla, even if I couldn't go through. For, of course, if we are verypoor, I shall have to work for a living."
"Martine," cried Elinor, "you are very absurd. When I think of yourcousin Mrs. Stanley at Bar Harbor--"
"Yes, and my cousin Mrs. Blair, who has one of the handsomest places onthe North Shore. But unluckily what is theirs is not mine, and I havenever been a beggar."
"Of course not, but from one extreme you have gone to the other, and Ithink that you ought to hope for the best."
"If hoping were having," murmured Martine.
Mr. Gamut was one of the guests whom Martine invited in Elinor's honor.
"Where's your young conductor?" he asked, when he had a moment alonewith her.
"We invited him, but he wrote that he couldn't get off. Mamma feltpretty sure he wouldn't have come, even if he had time to spare. He isin this part of the world for business, not pleasure."
"Just so, just so, he's a fine fellow, though, and I mean to keep an eyeon him. I can offer him a good place when he's through studying. I haveno prejudice against the college man in business, and he'll be none theworse for taking his degree. I liked the way he ran after that fellowthe other night, and he's done some clever detective work since. You'llhear about it soon."
"Martine," said Mrs. Stratford, when her daughter later told her whatMr. Gamut had said; "you may congratulate yourself on this one thing, ifon nothing else this summer. By bringing Mr. Gamut and Balfour togetheryou have accomplished more than you realize."
"But it was the burglar and not I," said Martine, "who really had themost to do with it. It was the way Balfour ran that impressed Mr. Gamutthe most."
"However it came about, you have had a good share in bringing themtogether, and with Mr. Gamut's good will, Balfour is sure to prosper."
"I'm glad of that, mamma. Sometimes I feel that I have been so uselessthis summer."
"My dear--" and then Mrs. Stratford said no more. She was really afraidof spoiling Martine by praise, but she thought it better for the latterto find out certain things for herself.