CHAPTER IV
THE BUSY BEES.
"I'm afraid the head of the firm is very late this morning," criedConstance, merrily, as she entered the candy kitchen. Mrs. Carruth hadlong since given it the name of the Bee-hive.
"I think the head of the firm has earned the right to arrive late if shewishes to," answered Mary Willing, glancing backward over her shoulderas she stood before the gas range. Her arms were bared to the elbows,for the waist she wore was made with short sleeves, in order to give herperfect freedom in her work. They were beautiful arms, strong,well-rounded and smooth as ivory.
"No, indeed, the head of the firm is a far cry from such indulgences,let me tell you. She has just heaps and loads to accomplish before shecan arrive at such luxuries. But how goes the candy, Mary? Are you readyfor me yet?"
"Not quite; but I shall be in just a few minutes. See, it is beginningto rope," was the reply as the candy-maker lifted a spoonful of theboiling syrup and let it run back into the kettle, the last drop fallingfrom the spoon quickly forming into little threads, which wavered in thehot air rising from the range.
"Better begin beating it now, and let me pop in the nuts; then we'llpour it off," answered Constance, her practiced eye quick to see thatanother moment's boiling might undo a morning's work.
"Well, you're the boss! Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Constance, I didn'tmean that! I mean you're--" and the girl paused in confusion, her facecoloring a deeper red than the heat and her work had brought there.
"I'll make believe I didn't hear," answered Constance, a softer lightfilling her eyes in place of the pained one which for a little instanthad crept into them, as a cloud can cast a momentary shadow upon awind-swept, shining October sea.
"You have to make believe so many times," answered the girl, contritely,as she lifted the kettle from the range, and placing it upon the marbletable, began to beat vigorously.
"Not nearly so often as I used to," answered Constance, emptying intothe kettle a great dish of walnuts. Mary again beat vigorously with herbig spoon, shaking her head doubtfully the while. Constance did not lookat her, but, arming herself with a large knife, guided the candy intothe little grooves which would shape it as it was poured upon the tablefrom the tilted kettle. One end of the table had been blocked out like acheckerboard, each inch square lined for cutting the candy accurately.
"Now watch me do my stunt," she cried, standing with knife suspendedover the fast chilling candy, and smiling up at the tall girl at herside.
"Do you forgive my--my--oh, the things I'm forever saying that must feeljust like a file drawn over your teeth? If you only knew how hard it isto forget old ways and words and learn the better ones!"
"Do you see that little motto over there?" asked Constance, pointingwith her poised knife to a card, one of several hanging upon the wall ofthe kitchen. The one toward which she pointed was in dark blue lettersupon a white ground. It read: "Forget It!"
"Yes, that is just exactly what I am forever doing," was Mary's petulantreply. "If I didn't forget all the time I'd never _have_ to forget atall, and if that isn't the finest bit of Irish you've ever heard, pleaseimprove on it if you can."
The laughter which floated out through the open door greeted Mrs.Carruth as she entered the packing room.
"May I share the joke?" she asked. "I'm sure it must be a good one, andrich as the odors floating out to tempt nose and palate. Cut it quickly,Honey; I know it must be chilled enough and it does smell so good. Mary,you are a master hand. M--mm--m! A veritable lump of delight, though stillslightly warm," she ended as Constance dropped into her mouth a squareof the nut fudge she had just cut from the great mass covering thetable.
"Sit down, Mumsey, dear, and be good, consequently happy, while we worklike beavers. How does it chill so rapidly? Quick! Mary, you cut at thatend while I work at this. We've pounds and pounds to get done thismorning if we are to fill all the orders."
For a few moments only the swift swish of the great knives as they cutthe candy could be heard, now and again one girl or the other catchingup a square upon the end of her knife and pausing just long enough tooffer it to Mrs. Carruth. Presently all was cut, and as it lay coolingthey set to work upon the next batch to be made, Mary cleaning the fudgekettle while Constance got out another for the walnut creams. Each kindof candy had its special cooking utensils, and no others were ever usedfor it. In a few minutes Constance had a second batch of candy bubblingupon her range, ready to turn over to Mary when she should have finishedwashing the kettles and other articles used in making the fudge.
"I came out to be useful; may I prove it?" asked Mrs. Carruth.
"Just sit and watch us work. That helps," answered Mary, as she relievedConstance.
"Will you be just a heap happier if I let you help wrap the fudge inparaffin paper?" asked Constance as she nestled her head for a moment inher mother's neck. "Eh? Will you? You busy body. Why can't you let us doall the work and so win all the glory? I suspect you're a terriblyselfish mother; yes, I do. You needn't protest. You won't even let yourgirls, real own ones or adopted ones, make their sticky marks in thisworld in peace. You must come poking out here to buzz around in the hiveand beg honey."
"I don't have to beg, for it is voluntarily given," laughed Mrs.Carruth, kissing the soft cheek so close to her lips. "This kind I mean,and I know of none sweeter."
"Gross flattery! Now I _know_ you are scheming, so 'fess right off,"cried Constance, whirling around to peer into her mother's face, andbreak into a merry laugh.
Mrs. Carruth pursed up her lips into a derisive pucker, and looked intothe merry eyes of this sunshiny daughter.
"And if I am, what then?" she asked.
"I knew it!" was the triumphant retort. "But I dare not waste timebringing you to order now. Yes, you may help wrap. If anything willwheedle you into being good, letting you get busy will," endedConstance, turning to the table and deftly lifting the squares to theflat pans upon which they were to be carried to the packing room.
"Shoo along in there and get busy if you must, and while you are gettingsticky enough to satisfy even yourself, you will tell me what issimmering. And mind, Mary can hear, too; so if it is too anarchistic shewill come to the rescue. Oh, you can't do as you used to. Whyfor do Imake candy by the pounds innumerable? Whyfor do I send it to tickle manypalates? Whyfor do I take in dollars galore? All, _all_ to keep you fromrunning off on some wild project whereby you shall earn as many moredollars to my utter undoing, lost glory and disgrace appalling tocontemplate in a girl who has a tendency to grow fat--yes, fat!"
As she rattled on with her nonsense Constance worked busily getting outher paraffin paper, the necessary boxes and the dainty ribbons withwhich to tie them. Then seating herself beside her mother, who wasalready busy wrapping the fudge in its little squares of paraffin, shebegan packing the candy in its boxes.
"Now, what is it?" she asked, looking quizzically into the sweet,lovable face. Mrs. Carruth laughed a low, little laugh as she asked:"Why are you so sure that it is anything?"
"I know the signs. They have periodical simmerings, sort of seismicrumblings, so to speak," nodded Constance, working swiftly.
"I feel such a drone in a busy hive--" began Mrs. Carruth, thenhesitated.
"I knew it! Mary, it has bubbled to the surface again," Constance calledinto the kitchen, where brisk footsteps testified to the occupant'sindustry.
"Shall I come to your rescue?" was the laughing question.
"Not yet; I'm still able to handle her, though there is no telling howsoon she will get beyond me. I'll call you if I see signs," was calledback. "Now go on, you incorrigible woman, and tell your long-sufferingchild what bee you have buzzing in your bonnet now. A brand new fallbonnet, too! It's outrageous to so misuse it after all the trouble I'vebeen put to to induce you to indulge in it at all, and not sneak off toMadame Elsie with a lot of old finery to be made over into a creationwarranted (by her) to deceive the keenest eye. Oh, I know your sly ways,and have to lie awake nights to think how
to thwart them. You sly,wicked woman, to deprive me of my sorely needed rest and beauty sleep.Why, I'm growing thin--"
"Alas for consistency!" interrupted Mrs. Carruth, derisively. "A momentago you assured me you were growing fat. That scores me one, andentitles me to have my little say-so and hold my own against thisconspiracy of--how many shall I say? Six. Yes, think of the outrageousodds brought against one weak woman."
"Weak! Weak! Why, it requires all the energy and shrewdness the combinedforce can bring to bear upon her to keep her within bounds, doesn't it,Mary?"
"And we don't always do it then," was the bantering reply.
"No, we do not," was the emphatic agreement. "Neither Mammy, Charles,Eleanor, Jean, Hadyn, you, nor I can feel sure that we have settled hervaulting ambitions at once and for all time. Is your candy ready for meyet?--Don't need me? Very well, I'll keep at this job, then; it's aco-operative job, and the hardest part of it is to hold down my rival.There, those boxes are all packed, and now, Madame busy-body, I'm readyto listen. No, you are not going to tie bows while you talk, it givesyou too great an advantage. Look right straight into my eyes, and whileyou confess your desires to transgress you shall keep up a sub-conscioustrain of thought along this line: 'This is my second daughter, ConstanceBlairsdale Carruth. She is past nineteen years of age. She weighs onehundred and eighteen pounds. She still possesses all her facultiesunimpaired. Is endowed (I hope!) with the average degree of intelligenceand common sense. She has never been ill a day in her life (whistle andknock wood when you think that), and she is taking mighty good care ofthe health she enjoys. She has been at work four years transmutingsyrups and sugars into dollars and cents, in which undertaking she hasmet with rather amazing success, and is going to meet with even greater.Her plan is to make one dear, blessed little mother quite independent,and--please God--(these words were spoken in a mere whisper)--she willcompass it. Now, are you going to let her do all this quite untrammeled,or are you going to worry her by suggesting all manner of wild plans fordoing things for yourself?"
Constance had risen from her chair while speaking, and dropped upon herknees before her mother to clasp her arms about her waist and look intothe face she loved best on earth. The girl's expression was half grave,half merry, though wholly sweet and winning.
Mrs. Carruth took the upraised face in both her hands, bent toward it,rested her lips upon the soft, silky hair, and said gently:
"Dear heart, dear heart; my dauntless little daughter. Yes, you _are_doing all and far more than you have said, and that is exactly thereason I wish to contribute my share. Can't you see, dear, that I feelsuch a dull, dull drone in this busy hive?"
"Dull?--when you keep the hive in such running order that we never evensuspect where the machinery which runs it is located. Dull?--when youkeep our home as charming in every detail as it was when you had amplemeans at your command to conduct it. Dull?--when you are here everymoment as its sweet and gracious head to make it such a home as few knowin this northern world, where homes for the most part mean simply a roofto cover one, and under which food is served three times daily. Mother,can't you see and feel what you are doing for us girls? How you aresurrounding us with an atmosphere so beautiful, so exceptional in thesedays of hurry and bustle that its influence must bide with us all ourdays and remain a dear memory all our lives? We may leave it sooner orlater, other duties may call us away, but nothing, nothing can everdeprive us of all this--" Constance raised one arm to sweep itcomprehensively over the room in which they sat and all-embracinglybeyond. "So please let all rest as it is. Let Nonnie work away atcollege, and later--" here a merry twinkle filled the girl's eyes--"lether, well, let her take up the co-ed plan, if she likes. Things seemshaping that way if the signs can be trusted. Let me boil a way to fameand fortune. Let Jean--if Fate so decrees--though by the same token I've anotion she won't, follow in Nonnie's footsteps. Alack! Jean's energiesdo not point toward the campus of ---- college. I misdoubt," and Constancesmiled. Then, turning serious again, she resumed: "Will you promise mesomething?"
"Will you first listen to my little plan?" was her mother's counterquestion.
"Yes, I'll listen."
"You know how I delight in fancy work, dear, and there is such a fieldfor embroidery and other kinds I do so well. The Woman's Exchange, youknow."
"You may do all you want to--yards, pounds, dozens, heaps--however it isdescribed--but you must do it for _our_ home, not other people's. I'lltell you what you may do, all against the coming climax, for it iscoming, you mark my words: You begin right now and make dozens of thedaintiest pieces of underwear imaginable--"
"Oh, Constance!" cried Mrs. Carruth, reproachfully, the softest rosecreeping into her cheeks.
"Can't help it!" protested Constance. "I know that co-ed plan willdevelop. My heart! Do you think I'm blind as a bat? When a man bids agirl good-bye at a railway station and helps her on board thesmoking-car instead of the Pullman, and neither of them knows thedifference--well. You just wait till spring, my lady. It is a case of 'Ismell a mouse, I feel him in the air,' etc., get busy, Mumsey, get busy.The entire winter won't be too long, I tell you; for when that explosiontakes place it will be with a bang, you mark my words."
"Connie, Connie, this is dreadful!"
"May be," answered Constance, wagging her head dubiously; "but I'mafraid we must resign ourselves to it. Mercy only knows how she willcome home at Thanksgiving. I believe he is to meet her. I'm prepared fora box car or even a flat car. Yes, it is dreadful, you are quite right.Wonder how it will affect me if I ever succumb? But take my advice, getbusy, Mumsey, and, dear, remember this--" Swiftly the tone changed fromthe jesting one to the tenderest as the girl rested her head upon hermother's shoulder: "You represent _home_ to us girls. Without you itwould be the harp without its strings, the organ without its pipes. Itwould disintegrate. Keep it for us. Try to feel that you are doing farmore in our busy hive by just being our Queen Bee than you ever could bygoing abroad in the land to gather the honey. Let _us_ do that, andremember this--I read it not long ago and I'll never forget it:--
"'The beautiful gracious mother, Wherever she places her chair, In the kitchen (this one) or the parlor, The center of home is there.'
"Ready for me in there, Mary? Mother is perishing for occupation, andI've scolded her as much as I dare," and, with a tender kiss upon hermother's cheek, the girl ran swiftly into the next room.