CHAPTER XI
With a broad smile Ben led the way up the stairs, talking all the time.
"Ah suah will be glad to hab ladies about agin," he chuckled. "Genelmenis all right in der way. Ah hain't got nothin' to say agin genelmen asgenelmen, but no one can say they is so picturefying as de ladies. Youbetter take the fambly rooms, Mrs. Simmons. There hain't nobody beenusin' of 'em an' you'll find 'em mighty pleasant whether you looks outor in. An' they's allus ready."
He opened the door of the suite which occupied the west wing, andRebecca Mary gave a little exclamation of delight. She quite agreed withBen. The rooms were mighty pleasant in their pretty furnishings, whilefrom the windows one looked over the formal garden to the river whichflowed so peacefully between its two banks.
"How perfectly beautiful!" she murmured.
"Yes, they are very good cells," agreed Granny. "I'm sure we shall be ascomfortable as prisoners should be. Bring in our suit cases, please,Ben. Doesn't it seem restful and quiet, Rebecca Mary? I believe it willbe good for us to rest here for a few days. It is too bad we won't seeOtillie's wedding things, but that isn't our fault as I shall explain toMrs. Swenson. You heard me tell that young man that we might stay untilthe twentieth? That was just a blind. We'll only stay until we want togo and then we'll slip away."
"How?" laughed Rebecca Mary, still hanging enchanted over the garden."Shall I twist a sheet and lower you from the window?"
"I don't think it will be necessary to spoil good sheets," Grannylaughed, too, perhaps at the picture Rebecca Mary had painted of agolden wedding bride dangling by a twisted sheet from a second storywindow. "I shall find a more comfortable way. You know, Rebecca Mary,"she said in an undertone so that Joan, who was trying all of the faucetsin the bathroom, would not hear her, "I'm not just sure about thingshere. That story may be all right, it may be true that Major Martingalehas brought a lot of men down here to work out some experiment for thegovernment and he may be afraid that some hint may leak out to theGermans, but it sounds very queer to me. I can't imagine what theexperiment could be. And Joshua Cabot has never hinted to me that hehas loaned Riverside to any one. So I think we had better not make anyfuss but just stay quietly until we can learn something definite, andthen if the story isn't true we can slip away and warn Joshua that queerthings are happening here."
"Why, Granny Simmons!" Rebecca Mary had never thought that MajorMartingale's story could be anything but true. "How shall we find out?"
"We shall keep our eyes and ears wide open. First we must make themtrust us and then--and then, Rebecca Mary, we can learn the truth. Don'task me how again," as she saw the question trembling on Rebecca Mary'slips, "for I don't know. But we shall, and until we do we'll just forgetabout it. I declare I feel younger than I have for years. But I'm tired.I didn't sleep well last night. If you take my advice now, children,you'll try these beds and see how soft they are. I am sure I feel theneed of at least forty good winks."
"Oh, I couldn't sleep now." Rebecca Mary was too excited even to thinkof sleep. She would rather go down to the garden where the big poolshowed the blue sky how becoming the fleecy white clouds were. Thegarden was far more alluring to her just then than the softest of beds.
"I couldn't, either!" exclaimed Joan. "Must I?"
Granny did not insist, and after she was tucked under the silkencomforter Rebecca Mary and Joan went down the stairs hand in hand. Theyran through the open door and found a surprise on the other side, asurprise over six feet long.
"Hello!" exclaimed the surprise, all a-grin.
"Hello!" replied Rebecca Mary somewhat feebly, and then she laughed forthe surprise was young Peter Simmons. If Rebecca Mary's fingers had notbeen in her pocket with the four-leaf clover locket she would not havebelieved her two gray eyes. "Then it wasn't a dream!" she saidtriumphantly.
"Wasn't it?" Peter looked at Rebecca Mary as she stood before him in hercrumpled white frock and pink sweater. Peter never saw that the frockwas crumpled. He only saw the two shining gray eyes, the smiling redmouth and the two pink cheeks which helped to make Rebecca Mary'sradiant face.
"I told Granny that you found us last night and she said I wasdreaming," she explained more soberly. "Have you come to rescue usagain?" It would be so romantic if the four-leaf clover had sent youngPeter Simmons to their rescue a second time.
"Rescue you?" He looked puzzled, for Rebecca Mary did not look as if shewere in any danger as she stood there in front of the door. "I want toapologize for leaving you in the old shed," he went on. "It started torain just before we turned in here last night and the shed was thenearest place. Yes, I picked you up, it wasn't any dream. Granny waswrong. I had received a hurry up call to come out at once and was on myway in my little gas wagon with a man from the factory when at the crossroads, a mile and half back, I came across two women and a half----"
"Was the half me?" demanded Joan, dancing up and down. "Do you mean mewhen you say half a woman?"
"I certainly do," smiled Peter. "One woman and a half were sound asleepand the other woman was just about asleep. The cross roads didn't seemthe safest place for a nap so I left my machine to the mechanic and tookthe wheel of yours. I didn't dare take you to the house until I spoke toold Martingale but when I met him he wouldn't listen to my story butmarched me off to the shop for a minute. The minute grew into sixtybefore I could get away, and when I went back to the shed you had gone.How is Granny? The idea of a child of her age going to sleep in a motorcar thirty miles from home. Any one could have come along and carriedyou off!" It almost sounded as if Peter was scolding them.
"I said you brought us here, I remember perfectly now, but Grannywouldn't believe me. Did you know that we would have to stay for ever?"
"For ever?" Peter didn't understand.
With Joan's assistance Rebecca Mary explained that no one who came toRiverside could leave, and Peter threw back his head and laughed andlaughed.
"Good work," he chuckled. "I guess I've eliminated old Dick Cabot for awhile. He always was in the way in Waloo. But why in the dickens wereyou and Granny and this half woman," he pinched Joan's cheek, "going toSeven Pines in the middle of the night?" Evidently he had forgotten theexplanation Rebecca Mary had given him in the middle of the night.
"Your grandmother decided rather suddenly to leave home," Rebecca Marydimpled as she remembered how suddenly Granny had decided, "and sheasked me to drive her to Seven Pines. I was scared to pieces but Icouldn't refuse."
"That's very good as far as it goes, but it doesn't explain why Grannyhad to start in the middle of the night, why she couldn't wait untilmorning?"
Rebecca Mary hesitated until she remembered that Granny had said shedidn't care if Peter knew, she didn't care if every one knew.
"I suppose I may tell you," the corners of her mouth tilted up. "Shewanted to run away from a question."
"A question?" Peter looked hopelessly bewildered. "Why should any one,least of all an old woman of sixty-eight, run away from a question?"
Even when Rebecca Mary had explained what question it was which had madeGranny abandon her comfortable home in Waloo at midnight Peter didn'tseem to understand, and he said so.
"That's because you're a man!" Rebecca Mary was very scornful of a man'spower of comprehension. "I understand perfectly, and I don't blameGranny a bit. It must be perfectly maddening to have your husband askyou whether you want light meat or dark every time a chicken comes tothe table or what you want for a birthday or a Christmas present. Idon't blame Granny," she repeated for fear he had not heard her thefirst time she said it.
"Neither do I when you say it like that," Peter agreed amiably."Although I can't see why she didn't go to grandfather and tell him howshe felt. My grandfather, Miss Rebecca Mary Wyman, is the best old scoutin the world. Don't think for a minute that he is a crabbed selfish olddub because he isn't. He's the head of a big manufacturing plant whichhe had ready to turn over to the government before the war because hesaw it coming, and it's been no joke to get it back to a peace ba
sissince the war. I don't know anything about this chicken meatproposition, but I do know that granddad has so much on his mind that itisn't surprising if he has forgotten a little thing like ananniversary----"
"Little thing!" Anniversaries were not little things to Rebecca Mary.They aren't little things to any woman. "A golden wedding a littlething!" It was perfectly clear to Peter that a golden wedding with allits tributes and attributes would never be a little thing to RebeccaMary.
"She's going to ask me," Joan broke in excitedly. "I've never been toone, and I can't think what it will be like. What will be golden? Thebride can't be, can she?"
"No," Rebecca Mary put an arm around Joan as she explained. "No, honey,the golden part will be the beautiful memory the bride and bridegroomwill have of the fifty happy years they have spent together." Shestopped suddenly as she remembered that was what Cousin Susan had said,that memories were golden. "What a long time that is!" she murmureddreamily. "Fifty years!"
"Not too long for two people who love each other," suggested Peter in avoice which sent the ready color to her cheeks. "When you are marriedyou will want a golden wedding, won't you?"
"I wonder," her lips murmured perversely, although her heart told herwith one big beat that she would, she most certainly would, want agolden wedding.
"I know," insisted Peter. "Come on in and help me find some breakfast. Ihaven't had a thing to eat since last night," piteously.
"We have!" Joan was triumphant. "We had strawberries and toast and eggsand coffee!"
"Greedy!" Peter made a face at her. "I hope you didn't eat all thestrawberries, nor all the eggs, nor all the toast!"