CHAPTER XXI

  THE DRANES AND THEIR QUARTERS

  In a small room at the back of Dr. Tolbridge's house there sat a youngwoman by the window, writing. This was Cicely Drane; and although it wasnot yet ten days since Miss Panney broached her plan of the employment ofMiss Drane as the doctor's secretary, or rather copyist, here she was,hard at work, and she had been for two days.

  The window opened upon the garden, and in the beds were a great manybright and interesting flowers, but paying no heed to these, Cicely gaveher whole attention to her task, which, indeed, was not an easy one. Withknitted brows she bent over the manuscript of the "Diagnosis ofSympathy," and having deciphered a line or two, she wrote the words in afair hand on a broad sheet before her. Then she returned to the study ofthe doctor's caligraphy, and copied a little more of it, but theproportion of the time she gave to the deciphering of the originalmanuscript to that occupied in writing the words in her own hand wasabout as ten is to one. An hour had elapsed since she had begun to writeon the page, which she had not yet filled.

  Miss Cicely Drane was a small person, nearing her twenty-second year. Shehad handsome gray eyes, tastefully arranged brown hair, and a vivaciousand pleasing face. Her hands were small, her feet were small, and she didnot look as if she weighed a hundred pounds, although, in fact, herweight was considerably more than that. Her dress was a simple one, onwhich a great deal of thought had been employed to make it becoming.

  For a longer time than usual she now bent over the doctor's manuscript,endeavoring to resolve a portion of it into comprehensible words. Thenshe held up the page to the light, replaced it on the table, stood up andlooked at it, and finally sat down again, her elbows on the paper, andher tapering fingers in the little brown curls at the sides of her head.Presently she raised her head, with a sigh. "It is of no use," she said."I must go and ask him what this means; that is, if he is at home."

  With the page in her hand, she went to the office door, and knocked.

  "Come in," said Dr. Tolbridge.

  Miss Drane entered; the doctor was alone, but he had his hat in his handand was just going out.

  "I am glad I caught you," said she, "for there is a part of this page inwhich I can see no meaning."

  "What is it?" said the doctor. "Read it."

  Slowly and distinctly she read:--

  "'The cropsticks of flamingo bicrastus quack.'"

  The doctor frowned, laid his hat on the table, and seating himself tookthe paper from Cicely Drane.

  "This is strange," said he. "It does seem to be 'cropsticks of flamingo,'but what can that mean?"

  "That is what I came to ask you," said she. "I have been puzzling over ita good while, and I supposed, of course, you would know what it is."

  "But I do not," said the doctor. "It is often very hard for me to read myown writing, and this was written two years ago. You can leave this sheetwith me, and this evening I will look over it and try to make somethingout of it."

  Cicely Drane was methodical in her ways; she could not properly go onwith the rest of her work without this page, and so she told the doctor.

  "Oh, never mind any more work for today," said he. "It is after fouro'clock now, and you ought to go out and get a little of this pleasantsunshine. By the way, how do you like this new business?"

  "I should like it very well," said Cicely, as she stood by the table, "ifI could get on faster with it, but I work so very, very slowly. I made acalculation this morning, that if I work at the same rate that I havebeen working since I came here, it will take me thirteen years and elevenmonths to copy your manuscript."

  The doctor laughed. "If a child should walk to school," he said, "at thesame rate of speed that he takes his first toddling step on the nurseryfloor, it might take him about thirteen years to get there. That is, ifhis school were at the average distance. You will get on fast enough whenyou become acquainted with my writing."

  She was on the point of saying that surely he had had time to getacquainted with it, and yet he could not read it; but she considered thatshe did not yet know the doctor well enough for that.

  The doctor rose and took up his hat; then he suddenly turned toward MissDrane and said, "La Fleur, our cook, came to speak to me this morningabout your mother. She says she thinks that you are not well lodged; thatthe street is in the hottest part of the town, and that Mrs. Drane'shealth will suffer if you stay there. Does your mother object to yourpresent quarters?"

  Cicely, who had been half way to the door, now came back and stood bythe table.

  "Mother never objects to anything," she said. "She thinks our rooms arevery neat and comfortable, and that Mrs. Brinkly is a kind landlady,but she has complained a great deal of the heat. You know our house wasvery airy."

  "I am sorry," said the doctor, "that Mrs. Brinkly's house is not likelyto prove pleasant. It is in a closely built portion of the town, but itseemed the only place where we could find suitable accommodations foryour mother and you."

  "Oh, it is a nice place," exclaimed Cicely, "and I am sure we shall likeit, except in hot weather, such as we are having now. I have no doubt weshall get used to it after a little while."

  "La Fleur does not think so," said the doctor. "She is very muchdissatisfied with the Brinkly establishment. I think I saw signs ofmental disturbance in our luncheon to-day."

  Cicely laughed. She was a girl who was pleasant to look at when shelaughed, for her features accommodated themselves so naturally tomirthful expression.

  "It is almost funny," she said, "to see how fond La Fleur is of mother.She lived with us less than a year, and yet one might suppose she hadalways been a servant of the family. I think one reason for her feelingis that mother never does anything. You know she has never been used todo anything, and of late years she has not been well enough. La Fleurlikes all that; she thinks it is a mark of high degree. She told me oncethat my mother was a lady who was born to be served, and who ought not tobe allowed to serve herself."

  "She does not seem to object to your working," remarked the doctor.

  "I am sure she does not like that, but then she considers it a thing thatcannot be helped. You know," continued Cicely, with a smile, "she is notso particular about me, for I have some trade blood. Father's father wasa merchant."

  "So you are only a grade aristocrat," said the doctor; "but I must go. Iwill talk to Mrs. Tolbridge about this affair of lodgings."

  That evening Mrs. Tolbridge and the doctor held a conference in regard tothe quarters of the Dranes.

  "I think La Fleur concerns herself entirely too much in the matter," saidthe lady. "She first came to me, and then she went to you. You have donea good deal for Mrs. Drane in giving her daughter employment, and wecannot be expected to attend to her every need. I do not consider Mrs.Brinkly's house a very pleasant one in hot weather, and I would be gladto do anything I could to establish them more pleasantly, but I know ofnothing to do, at least at present; and then you say they have notcomplained. From what I have seen of Mrs. Drane, I think she is a verysensible woman, and under the circumstances probably expects somediscomforts."

  "But that is not all that is to be considered," said her husband. "LaFleur's dissatisfaction, which is very evident, must be taken into thequestion. She has a scheming mind. Before she left this morning she askedme if I thought a little house could be gotten outside the town, for amoderate rent. I believe she would not hesitate to take such a house, andboard and lodge the Dranes herself."

  "Doctor!" exclaimed Mrs. Tolbridge, "whatever happens, I hope we are notgoing to be the slaves of a cook."

  The doctor laughed.

  "Whatever happens," he said, "we are always that. All we can do is to tryand be the slaves of a good one."

  "I am not altogether sure that that is the right way to look at it,"said Mrs. Tolbridge; and then she went on with her sewing, not caring toexpatiate on the subject. Her husband appreciated only the advantages ofLa Fleur, but she knew something of her disadvantages. The work on whichshe was engaged at t
hat moment would have been done by the maid, had notthat young woman's services been so frequently required of late by theautocrat of the kitchen.

  The doctor sat silent for a few minutes. He had a kindly feeling for Mrs.Drane, and was willing to do all he could for her, but his thoughts werenow principally occupied with plans for the continuance of good living inhis own home.

  "I suppose it would not be practicable," he said presently, "to invitethem to stay with us during the heated term."

  Mrs. Tolbridge dropped her work into her lap.

  "That is not to be thought of for a moment," she said. "We have noroom for them, unless we give up having any more friends this summer;and besides that, you would see La Fleur, with the other servants ather heels, devoting herself to the gratification of every want andnotion of Mrs. Drane, and thinking no more of me than if I were achair in a corner."

  "We shall not have that," said the doctor, rising, and placing his handon his wife's head. "You may be sure we shall not have that. And now Iwill go and get a bit of my handwriting, and see if you can help medecipher it."

  He left the room, but in an instant returned.

  "A happy thought has just struck me!" he exclaimed. "I wonder if thoseyoung Haverley people would take Mrs. Drane into their house for the restof the summer? It would be an excellent thing for them, for theirhousehold needs the presence of an elderly person, and I am sure that noone could be quieter, or more pleasant, and less troublesome, than Mrs.Drane would be. What do you think of that idea?"

  Mrs. Tolbridge looked up approvingly.

  "It is not a bad one," she said; "but what would the daughter do? Shecould not come into town every day to do your work. It is too long a walkfor her, and she could not afford a conveyance."

  "No," said the doctor, "of course she could not go back and forwardsevery day, but it would not be necessary. She could take the work outthere and do it as well as here, and she could come in now and then, whena chance offered, and ask me about the hard words, for which she couldleave blanks. Or, if I happen to be in the neighborhood, I could stop inthere and see how she was getting on. I would much rather arrange thebusiness in that way, than have her pop into my office at any moment toask me about my illegible words."

  "I should think the work could be done just as well out of the house asin it," said the doctor's wife, who would be willing to have again theuse of the little room that she had cheerfully given up to the copyist ofher husband's book, which she, quite as earnestly as Miss Panney, desiredto be given to the world.

  "The first thing to do," said she, "is to make them acquainted. At firstthe Haverleys would not be likely to favor the plan. They no doubtconsider themselves sufficient company for each other, and although aslight addition to their income would probably be of advantage, I thinkthey are too young and unpractical to care much about that."

  "How would it do to have the Dranes and the Haverleys here, and give thema first-class La Fleur dinner?" asked the doctor.

  "I do not like that," said his wife. "The intention would be too obvious.The thing should be done more naturally."

  "Well," said the doctor, "I wish we had Miss Panney here. She has a greatcapacity for rearranging and simplifying the circumstances of acomplicated case."

  Mrs. Tolbridge made no answer, but very intently examined her sewing.

  "But if we can think of no deeply ingenious plan," continued the doctor,"we will go about it in a straightforward way. I will see Ralph Haverley,and if I can win him over to the idea I will let him talk to his sister.He can do it better than we can. If they utterly reject the whole scheme,we will wait a week or so, and propose it again, just as if we had neverdone it before. I have found this plan work very well with persons who,on account of youth, or some other reason, are given to resentment ofsuggestions and to quick decisions. When a rejected proposition is laidbefore them a second time, the disposition to resent has lost its force,and they are as likely to accept it as not."

  "You are right," said Mrs. Tolbridge, "for I have tried that planwith you."

  The doctor looked at her and laughed.

  "It is astonishing," he exclaimed, "what coincidences we meet with inthis world," and with that he left the room.

  As soon as her husband had gone, Mrs. Tolbridge leaned back in her chairand laughed quietly.

  "To think of asking Miss Panney to aid in a plan like that!" she said toherself. "Why, when the old lady hears of it she will blaze like fury. Tosend that pretty Cicely to live in the house for which she herself hasselected a mistress, will seem to her like high treason. But thearrangement suits me perfectly, and I can only hope that Miss Panney maynot hear of it until everything is settled."

  The more Dr. Tolbridge thought of the plan to establish Mrs. and MissDrane, for a time, at Cobhurst, the better he liked it. Not only did hethink the arrangement would be a desirable one on the Drane side, butalso on the Haverley side. From the first, he had taken a lively interestin Miriam, and he considered that her life of responsibility andindependence in that lonely household was as likely to warp her mind insome directions as it was to expand it in others. Suitable companionshipwould be a great advantage to her in this regard, and he fancied thatCicely Drane would be as congenial and helpful a chum, and Mrs. Drane asunobjectionable a matronly adviser, as could be found. If the plan suitedall concerned, it might perhaps be continued beyond the summer. He wouldsee Ralph as soon as possible.