CHAPTER VII

  EXPANSION.

  The short Thanksgiving holiday ended, Eleanor returned to college andJean to school, found Constance busier than ever in her kitchen, for theholiday season was her hardest time, and this year promised to be anexceptional one. An extra supply of candy must be made for the booth inthe Arcade, as well as for those who sold her candies on commission inother towns. Then, too, an unusual number of private orders had alreadycome in. These all meant incessant work for Constance and Mary Willing.

  The first week in December she entered the kitchen where Mary was justcutting into squares great masses of chocolate caramels. She had beenhard at work all the morning, and her face was flushed from herexertions.

  "Oh, I'm afraid you are nearly done up," cried Constance, contritely."You have been working so hard ever since eight o'clock, and it is nowpast eleven. I am so sorry to leave all this work to you while I do theeasy part."

  "Do you call it easy work to write about two dozen letters, keep trackof all the orders which are pouring in now, and run accountsstraight?--to say nothing of ordering our supplies. _I_ don't, and I'mthanking my lucky stars that I can do _my_ share of the work with a bigspoon instead of a pen," was Mary's cheerful reply, as she raised herarm to push back from her forehead an unruly lock of hair which fellacross her eyes.

  "Let me," said Constance quickly, lifting the soft strand into place."You are all sticky, and when one's hands are sticky that is the timefor hair to grow rampant and one's nose to itch! I've been there toomany times myself not to know all about it, I tell you. But that isn'twhat I came downstairs to say! Do you know that this pile of letters hasset me thinking, Mary? If things go on at this rate you and I can neverin the world handle the business. Why, it has taken me the whole morningto look after the letters and acknowledge the orders which came by theearly mail. I haven't been able to do one single stroke in here, and nowI have got to go down to South Riveredge. Charles told Mammy that weought to have more space there for our goods, and he wished I would seeMr. Porter about it at once. He thinks we ought to rent one of the otherspaces for the Christmas season, anyway, and have someone there toattend to it. What do you think? And do you know of someone we couldget? You see Christmas is only three weeks off, and whatever we do we'vegot to do at once."

  As Constance talked she wielded a big knife and helped briskly. Mary didnot answer at once; her pretty forehead wore a perplexed pucker. Atlength she said:

  "I know a girl who could take charge of it I think, although I don'tknow whether you'd like her or not."

  Constance smiled as she answered: "Suppose you tell me who she is, thenmaybe I can tell you whether I like her or not."

  "It's Kitty Sniffins. We used to go to school together."

  "I don't know her at all, so I'm a poor judge of her qualifications, amI not? But if you think she is the sort of girl we would like to havethere, I am sure she needs no other recommendation, Mary. What is heraddress?"

  "Her brother is an insurance agent down on State Street. You might seehim. They moved not long ago, and I don't know where they live now."

  "Oh----," exclaimed Constance, light beginning to dawn upon her. She hadnot heard the name Sniffins since the year in which she began hercandy-making, as the result of the burning of their home, and the namehad not figured very pleasantly in the experience of that October, orthe months which followed. Still, the sister might prove very unlike thebrother, and just now time was precious. If she was to act upon Charles'suggestion she must act immediately.

  "I think I'll drop her a note in care of her brother; I don't like to goto his office. She can call here," said Constance.

  Mary glanced up quickly to ask:

  "Is there any reason, Miss Constance, why you would prefer someoneelse?" for something in Constance's tone made her surmise that for somereason which she failed to comprehend Kitty Sniffins did not meet withher young employer's approval.

  "If I have one it is too silly to put into words," laughed Constance,"so I will not let it influence me. I dare say Kitty Sniffins is a rightnice girl and will sell enough candy to make me open my eyes. At allevents, I'll have a pow-wow with her. But before she can sell candy oranything else she must have a place to sell it in, and it's up to me toscuttle off to the Arcade as fast as I can go. And, by the way, you'vegot to have more help here, Mary. Yes, you _have_. You need not shakeyour head. As matters are shaping I shall have to give every moment ofmy time to the business of this great and glorious enterprise. Now whomshall I get? What is Fanny doing this fall? She left school in thespring, didn't she?"

  "Yes. She is helping mother sew, but----" and an eager light sprang intoMary's eyes. Fanny Willing was a younger sister, a rather delicate girl,who was growing more delicate from the hours spent at work in the closerooms of her home, and running a heavy, old-fashioned sewing machine.She was a plain, quiet little thing, very unlike her striking-lookingolder sister, and as such had not found favor in her mother's eyes. Inher younger days Mrs. Willing had boasted a certain style of beauty, andwith it had contrived to win a husband whom she felt would elevate herto a higher social plane, but her hopes had never been realized.Probably every family has a black sheep; Jim Willing had figured as thatunenviable figure in his. It was the old story of the son born after hisparents had been married a number of years, and several older sisterswere waiting to spoil him; plenty of money to fling about, a wildcollege career of two years, marriage with a pretty housemaidand--disinheritance. It had required only twenty-three years to bring itall to pass, and the next twenty-three completed the evil. At forty-sixJim Willing looked like a man of fifty-six--so can dissipation and moraldegeneration set their seal upon their victims. Gentle blood? What hadit done for him? Very little, because he had permitted it to becomehopelessly contaminated. And his children?--they were working out theproblem of heredity; paying the penalties of an earlier generation;demonstrating the commandment which says, "unto the third and fourthgeneration." A cruel, relentless one, but not to be lightly broken.

  In Mary was one illustration of it; Fanny another. Each was to "drie herweird," as the Scotch say.

  "Do you think your mother can spare her?"

  "I'm sure she can. The fact is, Fanny has been trying to get some workin one of the shops in South Riveredge. Sewing doesn't agree with her,somehow; she seems to grow thinner every day; she ain't--_isn't_, Imean--very strong, you see."

  "Will you send word to her, Mary? I think this sort of work will bebetter for her than the sewing, and we'll talk about the salary when shecomes over."

  "She'll be a mighty lucky girl just to _get_ here, salary or _no_salary!" was Mary's positive reply. "If you don't mind I'll run downhome this afternoon and tell her to come early to-morrow morning. I'llhave all this batch made, and the rest can wait until the morning; we'vegot a good lot ahead already." Mary's eagerness manifested itself in herevery action, and Constance nodded a cheerful approval as she laid downher big knife and turned to leave the kitchen.

  "Go ahead, partner, but I must be off now."

  "So the business is expanding?" exclaimed Mr. Porter, heartily, whenConstance had explained to him her wish to rent an arch for herChristmas trade. "Good! I knew it would. Couldn't possibly help it withsuch candy as that to back it up. But mind, you are not to forget myChristmas order in all your bustle and hurry for other people. Twentypounds----"

  "What!" cried Constance, aghast at the recklessness of her oldestcustomer.

  "Now, that will do, young lady. Will you please answer me this! Why mustI always be looked upon as a mild sort of lunatic when I give you anorder? 'Twas ever thus! Why, you hooted my first order, and you havekept on hooting every single one since. I wonder I haven't transferredmy patronage long since. Trouble is you realize where you have mecornered. You know I can't duplicate those candies anywhere. Now comealong with me and let us arrange for the new quarters which are toreplace the outgrown ones, and--mark my word--this business will neveragain contract to the old space. This is where my busi
ness acumen showsitself. Once I've got you into the bigger stand, and the rent into mycoffers, I mean to keep you there, even if I have to get out and drum upthe extra trade to meet the extra outlay. Co-operation."

  Constance was too accustomed to this good friend's nonsense to seeanything but the deepest interest for her welfare underlying it. Sheknew that, with all his seeming badinage, he was looking further aheadthan she, with her still limited experience, even after four years inher little business world, could look, for her's, while exceptional forher years and sex, could never match that of this man of the great,active business world. But if Mr. Porter was far-seeing in somedirections, in others he was short-sighted, and his range of vision wasto be broadened by one who dwelt in a far humbler walk of life--MammyBlairsdale.

  Upon this particular morning Mammy had elected to drive in state toSouth Riveredge, ostensibly to cast a critical eye over theBlairsdale-Devon Lunch Counter, but in reality to convey to it a veryspecial dainty for her pet customer--Hadyn Stuyvesant.

  In addition to a few hundred other side issues to her business, Mammyhad raised poultry during the previous summer, and, curiously enough, toevery chick hatched out, there had pecked themselves into the worldabout four roosters, until poor Mammy began to believe her setting eggsmust have had a spell cast upon them. As the summer advanced such anarray of lordly, strutting, squawking young cocks never dominated apoultry yard, and the sequel was inevitable. When they arrived at the_crowing age_ the neighbors arose in revolt! Such a vociferous,discordant collection of birds had never fought and crowed themselvesinto public notice. Mammy became almost distracted, and was at her wits'end until a diplomatic move struck her: those roosters should win notonly fame for themselves, but for their owner also; and not longafterward first one neighbor then another was mollified and highlyflattered to receive a fine daintily broiled, fried, or roasted youngbird, cooked as only Mammy knew how to cook a fowl, garnished as onlyMammy knew how to garnish, and accompanied by a respectful note, _not_written by Mammy, but by Jean, somewhat in this strain:

  "Will Mrs. ---- please accept this dish with the most respectfulcompliments of Mammy Blairsdale, who _hopes_ this noisy rooster willnever disturb her any more?"

  Oh, "sop to Cerberus!" Could diplomacy go further?

  It was one of the most vociferous of her flock which now lay upon hislordly back, his legs pathetically turned to the skies, his fighting andhis squaking days ended forever, that reposed in Mammy's warming can, tobe transferred to Charles' warming oven, there to await Hadyn's arrival.

  As Constance and Mr. Porter drew near the lunch counter, Mammy wasgiving very explicit directions to Charles. Constance and Mr. Porterwere too occupied to be aware of her presence; not she of theirs,however.

  Mr. Porter conducted Constance to the arch next but one to that in whichthe lunch counter stood, only separated from it by the cigar stand.

  "Now here is a space which you can have as well as not, and it is closeenough to Charles for him to cast an eye over it from time to time."

  "And may I rent it for one month?" asked Constance.

  "Better rent it for one year," urged Mr. Porter. "It's in a mighty goodlocation."

  "And _I_ call it a mighty _po'_ location," broke in an emphatic voice."A _mighty_ po' one, and no kynd ob a place fo' one ob ma chillen fer tobe at. _Gobblin_ men-folks hyar at de lunch stan'; _smokin'_ men-folksat de nex' one; an' we kin bress Gawd ef we don't fin' oursefs wid_guzzlin_ men-folks on yonder at de tother side befo' long."

  "Now, now! Hold on, Mammy! Go slow," broke in Mr. Porter, laughingly."You know the Arcade doesn't stand for _that_ sort of thing. Don't hitus so hard."

  "How I gwine know what it boun' ter stan' fer if _it_ lak ter stan' ferlettin' dat chile rint a counter nex' door to a segar stan'?" snappedMammy, her eyes fixed upon the luckless superintendent, personifying thestrongly emphasized _it_.

  "Well, it's lucky we found you here. Now, we never took _that_ side ofthe question into consideration, did we, little girl? Yes, I guessMammy's judgment beats ours. Great head! So come on, Mammy, and let ushave your sound advice in this choice of bigger quarters for MissConstance. You see, _I_ predict that she will never return to thesmaller ones again."

  "Don't need no gre't secon'-sight fer ter make _dat_ out, I reckon," wasthe superior retort.

  Mr. Porter looked crushed and then dropped behind Mammy, who wentsailing majestically down the Arcade, to stop at the very first and mostpretentious of all the Arches--one which had been rented until veryrecently by a stationer, who had profited so handsomely that he hadbuilt a large shop not far from the Arcade, and now wished to sub-letthis arch until his lease expired. Next to it was a florist's stand, andopposite a stationer's, each of a very high order. Constance stoodaghast at Mammy's audacity.

  "Why, Mammy, this is the highest-priced arch in the Arcade," sheexclaimed.

  "Well, what _dat_ got ter do wid it, Baby? Ain't your candy _dehighest-priced candy_? _An' ain' you de very high-water mark quality?_Who gwine ter 'spute dat? Go 'long an' rint yo' place; yo' all matchesp'intedly," and with this speech Mammy stalked back to her own quarters.

  Constance gave one look at Mr. Porter, then sank upon one of the littlebenches within the arch.

  "By George, she's right and I'm a blockhead! Think I'd better turn overmy job to her and go down into the engine-room until I learn to readhuman nature as _she_ can. Yes, it is the finest, highest-priced arch inthe building, but it didn't take that old black woman five seconds todiscover the match for it."

  "But, Mr. Porter," protested Constance, "of all the extravagant steps,and for Mammy, above all others, to urge it. That conservative creature!And the way she expressed it! _Why_ was I born a Blairsdale? It willshorten my years, I know, to have to live up to the name," and Constancebroke into a merry laugh.

  "Perhaps the burden will be lifted before long, and such a calamity toyour friends averted," answered Mr. Porter, soberly, but with twinklingeyes. The one o'clock whistle had just blown in a building hard by, andthe Arcade's elevator was beginning to bring down the people from thefloors above. Among them was Hadyn Stuyvesant, who went at once to theluncheon counter, quite unaware of the presence of a certain little ladynear the entrance of the Arcade; but her back was toward the elevator.For one second she glanced at Mr. Porter entirely innocent of thepurport of his words. Then, catching sight of the mischievous eyestwinkling at her, she rose suddenly to her feet, saying: "Come at onceand let me learn what this rash step will cost me."

  With a low laugh Mr. Porter strode toward his office beside a veryrosy-cheeked young girl.