CHAPTER VIII
"Whom in the world do we know in New Hampshire?" asked Julie onemorning, glancing askance at an envelope in her hand.
"Suppose you open it and find out," meekly suggested Hester, peepingover her shoulder.
"Why, see, it is addressed to us both--it's probably an invitation orsomething."
"It is not," asserted Julie; "I can tell by the look of it. It's--why,Hester Dale, it's a fifty dollar bill."
"What?" ejaculated Hester.
"It is, and a note. Think of daring to trust such a thing by mail! Lookat it yourself."
Hester seized both the bill and the letter, and unfolding the latterfound the following mysterious communication in typewriting:
"From one some love to those one loves, Greetings:
"A conspiracy having been formed for the purpose of circumventing fate, the initial step is herewith taken in the form of the enclosed paltry bill, intending it to be the forerunner of many a happy hour in which, though absent, will be ever present
"The Arch-Conspirator."
"Whoever could have done such a thing?" queried Hester in astonishment,"Dr. Ware?"
"No, I don't think so, though he might--is capable of doing anything.But, Hester, just think of it--fifty dollars! Why, it is almost afortune!"
"I should think it was, and it is the kindest, most generous thing Iever heard of. It couldn't be from Virginia, could it?"
"I don't believe so, Hester. Cousin Nancy disapproves of us too much todo such a thing. I think it is from some one who loves Daddy and feelssorry for us all, and takes this way of showing it. Oh, how good peopleare!"
"Some people," corrected Hester.
"If it had come from almost any other place than New Hampshire itwouldn't be quite so puzzling," said Julie. "I am sure we don't know asoul in the whole state."
"Well, I say let's stop guessing and be thankful we have it," advisedHester. "It is some one who does not want to be known, and I don'tsuppose we really ought to try to guess, but I just hope we will get achance sometime to do something for that somebody, whoever he is. Youcan see the person has had great fun doing it, by the way it is written,Julie."
"Yes." softly, still puzzling over the unexpected windfall.
"You've got another letter in your lap, Julie. Have you forgotten itsexistence? It looks like Nannie's writing--do read it aloud."
Julie took up the forgotten letter, and opening it began:
"My Sweetest, Preciousest Girls" (Isn't that just like Nan?) "You owe me a letter, both of you; but it's such ages since we've heard that I just can't wait any longer. I'm _so_ afraid mummie's last letter hurt you, though I wrote you at the time just not to mind anything she said. She was awfully cross and put out for several days, but father and I played backgammon with her until we actually played her into a good humor--you know how she'd play backgammon until she couldn't sit up another minute; and I know she loves you girls nearly as much as she does me, though she sputters away about you now and then; but that is just mummie's way.
"How I do wish you were here! I say that a dozen times a day, and whenever father hears me he says you will be, sometime. He's got just the loveliest scheme for bringing you all down here on a visit, since you're so proud and haughty and won't come and live with us! I shan't tell you a thing about it but you just wait until dear Cousin Dale gets better, and then you'll see!"
Julie's voice got suspiciously husky here, and it was a moment beforeshe went on:
"We'll have the grandest old times that ever happened, just like we did when you were here before.
"Do you know I'd almost forgotten to tell you the thing I began this letter for--my birthday party. I know you want to hear about it! It was a surprise party, and such fun! To begin with, it was such a pretty day that I wanted to be out every minute, so I took a long ride with father in the morning, and spent most of the afternoon in the pasture with George Washington, he and I trying to do tricks on Gypsie the way you did, Hester. I said we were _on_ Gypsie, but it was mostly _off_, for she didn't take to our circus performance at all and threw me twice, way over her head, and George Washington no end of times. He just loved it, and capered around and grinned and made absurd remarks until my sides ached with laughing. Just as I was actually succeeding in standing upon Gyp bareback, mummie spied me from her window, and of course that put an end to everything. She said she saw no reason why I should celebrate my eighteenth birthday by breaking my neck, and I expect she was right--but oh, it was fun!
"When I came in to dress for supper, father called me one side and told me to put on my pink organdie (the one you liked so much, you know), because it would please mummie; so I did and mummie wore her claret-colored velvet and I picked two of my pet pink roses--one for Mummie's hair and the other for father's buttonhole, and we all looked very gay and festive and I thought it was lovely to be eighteen, especially as mummie had given me that beautiful pearl ring of hers which she always said I should have when I was a young lady.
"Well, about nine o'clock, when mummie and I were in the midst of a game of backgammon, there was a crunching noise out in the driveway and I thought some one was coming to call. Then I heard laughter and a lot of people talking, and father went to the door, and let in a whole crowd calling for me. I was too surprised to understand, even when father explained that the neighborhood was giving me a surprise party. (I found out afterward, girls, that he got up the whole thing--he vowed them all to secrecy, because he didn't want me to know he had a hand in it, but Lillie Blake told me--Lil never has secrets from me.)
"Well, we danced in the big hall most of the evening, while the older people played cards, and we did have a jolly time, and there was a stranger here--he was staying with the Blakes and you'd never guess where he's from--Radnor! He's very fascinating, but he's old--he must be at least thirty! I know that wouldn't seem old to you, but it does to me, and I felt very shy with him at first until I found out he came from Radnor, and then I just pelted him with questions about you, and he didn't know you at all! I could have wept! But I talked on about you just the same, and I was dying to tell him about your work, for I think it's so noble of you, but mummie has forbidden my mentioning it to any one, and, of course, I wouldn't disobey her. He got the ring in my birthday cake, girls; wasn't that the funniest thing? Lillie Blake teased him to give it to her, but he wouldn't, and slipped it in his pocket out of sight. I know he enjoyed hearing me talk about you, because he stayed with me a good part of the evening, and Teddie Carroll got cross and sulked in the corner. Isn't he the silliest thing?
"Good-by, you old darlings, and don't forget your little cousin,
"Nannie."
Julie smiled as she put down the letter. "Isn't she a darling, Hester? Idon't wonder they call her 'Kitten,' she purrs so. And she's soingenuous! Imagine her thinking that a man stayed about with her becauseshe talked about us. He evidently took a fancy to her--the dear littlething! I wonder who he was."
"She has forgotten to mention his name," said Hester, "but it does notmuch matter. Come, Julie, we must switch our thoughts up from Virginia,or we'll never get to work to-day."
Julie went over to a shelf and stuck the two letters behind a clock. "Itis an inspiration to work," she said, "when we know people are thinkingof us and loving us. That money, dear, is a godsend. We had scarcelyenough left to market another day."
Julie, who was self-appointed buyer, had been racking her brains to knowhow they should get through another day without running into debt--acontingency of which they had a horror. They had stopped all theirfather's accounts and were unanimous in agreeing that they would gowithout that for which they could not pay cash. Accordingly they wentwithout a great deal.
In her first experience of marketing Julie was aghast to find that meatswhich she regarded as a common necessity cost so much
that she wasforced to act upon the butcher's suggestion that it was "stew meat" shewanted. It was _not_ what she wanted, but she took it meekly and ate itwith pretended relish, for Bridget took pride in serving a genuine Irishstew.
It was characteristic of the Dales that they never did things by halves,and they threw themselves with tremendous energy into their work, whichwas developing, though still slowly. Orders for wine jelly and cake camein from people unknown to them, and they knew that Dr. Ware's influencewas working for their good. Miss Ware, too, though outwardlyantagonistic, had carried out her intention of taking Hester's cake tothe Sewing Class, with the result that the hostess of the next meetinghad ordered all her cake from them for that occasion.
This order they were getting to work on now, and Julie remarked that shewished white cake were not so much in demand, for the continued increaseof left-over yolks was appalling.
"Bridget has made them into omelette at least twice a day lately, untilit seems to me I can't stand the sight of them, Hester. And the more wehave to make frosting the worse it gets. Either we've got to throw themaway in rank extravagance or keep on eating them and die. I wish wecould think of something to do with them!"
"If we only could afford to buy oil, Bridget would make us somesalad-dressing."
"But we can't afford it. Poor Bridget, that is her one accomplishment.She says she learned it from mamma, who was famous for it."
"Good gracious, Julie!" the practical Hester ejaculated, "don't take to'reminiscing' with that far-away look in your eyes. You'll be weighingsalt instead of sugar."
"I am not 'reminiscing'--I am thinking. Why can't we make mayonnaise andsell it?"
"What!"
"Don't drop dead with astonishment, you chief cook and bottle-washer,because _I_ have an idea. What do you think of it?"
"Ye gods, but wouldn't that be a scheme! Bridget could teach us--youknow how Daddy's friends always said they never got such salads at anyother table!"
"Don't 'reminisce,' my dear."
"We'll get the grocers to sell it," disdaining to notice the pretendedrebuke, "just as they do pickles and things. We'll put it up in nicebottles, and----"
"Wouldn't it be rather clever to learn how to make it first?"interrupting this flight into future possibilities.
"Bridget, Bridget, come here!" called Hester.
Bridget, who was brushing up the sick-room, came down the little halland entered the kitchen.
"Do you see all those?" cried Hester, pointing to a bowl full of yolksstanding on the table. "Now if you had your own way, what would you dowith them?'
"Make 'em into mayonnaise, miss."
"Of course you would, you extravagant creature! Well, that is just whatwe want you to do. Tell her, Julie--it is your scheme."
An amazed and delighted Bridget heard the girl unfold her plan.
"Shure it's a wonder yez are, Miss Julie, the two of yez, an' mydressin' can't be beat. Could I be after showin' yez how this mornin'?"
"I'll go straight into the grocery now and get a bottle of oil,"exclaimed Julie, and calling Peter Snooks, she was off in five minutes.
She noticed as she went down the stairs that the door of the apartmentunderneath them was ajar, and to her astonishment Peter Snooks, thatmost well-behaved of dogs, thrust his nose into the crack and vanished.
She stood a moment irresolute; then called peremptorily: "Snooks, PeterSnooks! come here this minute!"
No dog appeared, and she was about to raise her voice for the secondtime when from the darkness of the inner hall she heard some onesay--"Do you mind coming in just a minute? Your little dog is makingfriends with me, and I can't come to you."
She followed the voice to the front room, where a boy lay in a wheeledchair, while beside him sat Peter Snooks on his hind legs, putting outhis paw to shake hands in his most approved manner. At sight of hismistress he curled his tail under and crawled to her guiltily. "Don'tscold him, please," said the boy; "it's my fault. I've been wanting toknow him this ever so long."
There was something so appealing in the boy's voice and so penitent inthe way Peter Snooks looked up at her that she patted the little rascal,and said brightly:
"I never knew him to play truant before; but if you and he have madefriends I shan't apologize for his intrusion or mine."
"Oh no! don't," said the boy. "I've watched you from the window eversince you came here to live, and I feel somehow as if I sort of knewyou."
"Are you ill?" she asked, gently.
"Broke my hip two months ago," he said. "It's a long time mending."
"Oh! I am so sorry--I know how hard it must be--my father is--is ill,too." She never could bring herself to put into words her father'sactual condition.
"I wish you would sit down," the boy said. "Mother may be in any moment.You can't think how it cheers a fellow up to see somebody." He spokehesitatingly, as if he feared to show too great pleasure lest he giveher offense.
"I can't stop, thank you," said Julie, suddenly remembering her errand,"but if you are lonely and would like to have me, I will leave PeterSnooks awhile with you--he's no end of company."
"Oh! would you, really?" The boy's eyes glistened. "I wish mother werehere; she'd know how to--to thank you."
At that moment a small, frail woman, gowned in black, entered the room.
"Why, mother," exclaimed the boy, turning to her a flushed, eager face,"I was just wishing for you. This is the young lady that lives upstairs,you know."
"How do you do?" the woman said, holding out her hand with quaintsimplicity, neither face nor manner betraying any surprise at findingJulie there. "You are Miss Dale, are you not? I am Mrs. Grahame. It waskind of you to come in and see Jack."
"My little dog ran in here, and I followed in search of him and foundyour son," Julie explained. "I really did not intend to be intrusive."
"It is a great pleasure to see you." The older woman smiled at her. "Youmust pardon the seeming liberty, but Jack and I have long beenacquainted with you. You see I am at work down-town most of the day, andthe boy spends long hours by the window watching his neighbors go in andout, and he amuses himself by weaving little stories about them until hecomes to regard them as personal friends."
Jack dropped his eyes. "You'll think I'm the one who's intrusive," hesaid.
"I do not think anything of the kind," replied Julie; "I think it is avery clever, happy idea." She went over to the chair and called the dogup in his lap. "Mrs. Grahame," she said, "if you are not too busy, willyou come up some evening and see us? We are working girls, and we havean invalid father, and we don't expect to pay visits, but I would liketo come down here again, if I may, and bring my sister. Your son wouldweave the most beautiful stories in the world if he really knew Hester."
"Thank you for suggesting so much happiness for my boy," said Mrs.Grahame, earnestly. "You make me want to go to see you immediately."
Just as Hester's lively imagination was picturing all sorts ofcalamities which might have overtaken her sister, that individual camehurriedly in with a bottle of salad oil in her hand.
"Well, where on earth have you been?" cried Hester; "I thought you musthave dropped dead or been kidnaped or something fearful."
"Was I so long? I am sorry, dear, but you see I made a call en route."
"A call! who ever heard of such a thing! Where is Peter Snooks?"suddenly missing him.
"He is finishing the visit for me." Julie laughed with a provokinglymysterious air.
Hester, who had been working on alone and diving her head into a hotoven every five minutes to anxiously watch the evolution of bothersomelittle dabs of thin dough into small puffy cakes, was feeling decidedlycross and resented her sister's apparent indifference to the business athand.
"Well, I'm glad if _you_ have time to gad about," she said, witheringly."I _thought_ we were going to take a lesson in making mayonnaise."
"You goose!" exclaimed Julie, pushing her away from the hot oven andherself kneeling down to peer in. "I'll watch these cakes--you
sit downand draw a breath and the cork of the oil at the same time, while I tellyou what happened."
Somewhat mollified, Hester obeyed, and even deigned to show interestwhen Julie graphically described their neighbors.
"Wasn't it odd, Hester, just walking right into the midst of things likethat? And the boy was so pathetic, and his mother was so quaint, withsuch a sweet face and pretty, wavy hair, and I only stayed a moment,dear, really, for all the time I knew you'd be wondering what had becomeof me."
"Well, all I've got to say is," remarked Hester, with decided emphasis,"that if you were willing to leave Peter Snooks with them, they must bevery remarkable people indeed."