CHAPTER VI
When Richard heard that Granny was going to take Rebecca Mary and Joanto Mifflin in her limousine he discovered that he had to call on theMifflin National Bank, and he suggested that they should make the triptogether.
"I'll drive you in my big car," he said. "We could stop at the RiverClub for lunch and come home by way of Spirit Lake for dinner. You'lllike the River Club," he told Rebecca Mary. "It's on an island in theMississippi and the dining room hangs over the river. You can catch yourlunch from the window."
"What fun!" dimpled Rebecca Mary. "It sounds like a most beautiful pinkplan."
"Pink plan?" Richard didn't understand what she meant, but he thoughtshe looked rather beautiful and pink herself as she stood beside him.
"Whenever I hear of anything that is absolutely all right," Rebecca Maryexplained, "I seem to see it as the most lovely rose color. And so Ialways think of absolutely all right things as pink. How lucky it isfor us that you owe the Mifflin Bank a call."
"It's lucky for me," insisted Richard with a smile.
So on Saturday Richard brought his big car to Rebecca Mary's door, andJoan and Rebecca Mary ran down from the window where they had beenwatching for him for hours. Rebecca Mary wore another portion of AuntEllen's gift, a new motor coat--to tell the truth it was the only motorcoat she had ever had--and a fascinatingly small hat demurely veiled.She looked just exactly right for a motor trip, and Richard told her sowith his eyes while Granny, who was already in the tonneau, admired herwith her lips as well as her eyes.
"That's a very smart and becoming coat and hat, Rebecca Mary," she saidat once. "Suppose you sit in front with Richard? Riding in an open caralways makes me sleepy and if you are back here you will talk to me andkeep me awake."
"Won't I talk to you?" Joan didn't know how she was going to keep fromtalking all the way from Waloo to Mifflin, but she obediently nestleddown beside Granny.
"I rather think you will." Granny smiled at her and patted her fatlittle hand. "But before you begin to talk you must help me plan how weshall persuade Mrs. Wyman to loan us her daughter. That will take a lotof thinking, and you can't talk very well while you are thinking."
On the front seat Rebecca Mary laughed joyously. "It sounds as if thiswas going to be a very important expedition," she said.
"It is," Richard told her with a flash of his eyes. "All ready? Quitecomfortable?"
And when Rebecca Mary had said she was quite ready and comfortable hetook the seat beside her and did something to buttons and levers andthey were off.
Rebecca Mary felt like one of the princesses Joan talked about sointimately as they rolled down the street, through the suburbs and intothe real country. Richard called her attention to this old house, arelic of pioneer days, or to that new public library, and to the whitesign boards which told them that they were on the Jefferson Highway. Thename was between a palmetto and a towering pine to show them that NewOrleans was at one end and that Minnesota was at the other end of thatribbon-smooth road. Richard seemed to know the way and there was nothingwhich Rebecca Mary should have seen which he did not show her.
"Want to go faster?" he asked when she leaned forward to look at thespeed indicator. He touched a button again and they went faster.
"It's like flying!" she exclaimed with shining eyes. "Oh, I do thinkthere are such wonderful things in the world! Aren't you glad that youare living now!"
He laughed at her enthusiasm. What a jolly little thing she was! And hetold her that he most certainly was glad to be living that moment in away which deepened the vivid color in Rebecca Mary's cheeks.
"Of course it's an old story to you," she went on quickly. "But this isthe very first time I ever motored from Waloo to Mifflin. I've alwaysgone in a stuffy day train and had cinders get into my eyes. Once thetrain was held up four hours by a wash-out on the road and an oldNorwegian gave me some cookies. They did taste good," she assured himfor he seemed as interested in the cakes as if he were a baker insteadof a banker.
"Norwegian women are good cooks, and Norway is a beautiful country."
"I suppose you've been there? Every country will be beautiful to meunless I am so old when I start on my travels that I can't see. Myfavorite castle is a railroad ticket. I've never been farther thanWaloo in all my life. I don't know why I tell you that for of course youknow it. Any one can see that I've never been anywhere nor seenanything."
"Yes." Richard agreed with her so promptly that she felt as if he hadpinched her for naturally she had expected that he would say that anyone to see her would think she had been everywhere and seen everything.The sting was taken from the pinch when he went on: "If you had beeneverywhere you wouldn't be so jolly and enthusiastic as you are. Girlswho have been everywhere and seen everything aren't satisfied withanything."
"I wonder," meditated Rebecca Mary. "Then you think it's better not tohave and want, than to have and not care for?"
"Much better. Very much better!"
"M-m," murmured Rebecca Mary doubtfully. "I don't believe you know athing about it," she exclaimed suddenly. "You've had all of your life!"
"Not everything," Richard insisted. "There is at least one thing I'venever had." But he did not tell her what that one thing was, and she didnot ask him.
The River Club was all that Richard had said it would be. They crosseda bridge to the island at one end of which was the rambling shingledclub house which really did overhang the river. Richard was quite right,and Rebecca Mary could easily have fished from the window of the bigdining room, but she preferred to let Richard order her lunch from theclub pantries. A dozen or more men were lunching at the little tables,and Rebecca Mary heard scraps of their talk--"fifteen pounds"--"thebrute got off with my best fly"--"that darned pike couldn't have weighedless than six pounds." She looked at Richard and laughed.
"I suppose more lies are told in this room than anywhere in the state,"she whispered.
"I expect you are right," he whispered back.
They had a most delicious luncheon of black bass fresh from the river,of new potatoes and peas and salad and strawberries from the clubgarden. Many of the fishermen who had nodded to Richard came over tospeak to Granny, and Richard introduced them to Rebecca Mary, and toldher in an undertone that this one was a lumber king and that one was aniron king and the other one was a flour king. Rebecca Mary had neverbeen in a room with so many kings in her life, and she looked after themcuriously as she said so.
"Yes," Granny murmured. "They call this the millionaires' retreat, don'tthey, Richard?"
"I prefer the River Club, myself," was all Richard would say.
The club with its royal members seemed to make Richard even moreimportant to Rebecca Mary, and she looked at him a trifle oddly as theyleft the island and went on to Mifflin. She had known that Richard wasvery clever and important--Granny had told her that old Mr. Simmonsconsidered Richard Cabot quite the most promising young man inWaloo--but she hadn't thought these elderly kings of lumber and iron andflour would listen to him as they had listened. Richard seemed too youngto belong with those bald-headed white-haired pudgy kings and yet theyhad greeted him as if they were very glad to see him. Rebecca Mary stolea shy glance at Richard. He was looking at her instead of twenty feet infront of his car as a motor driver should look, and he smiled.
"Like it?"
"Love it!" And she smiled, too, and forgot all about kings. How splendidit was to have Richard for a friend. And if he hadn't been a friend henever would have smiled at her like that. It gave her such a warm cozylittle feeling to have a man like Richard for a friend. "Oh, isn't thisthe most wonderful day that was ever made out of blue sky and goldensunshine!" she cried suddenly. "And we're coming to Mifflin. There'sPeterson's farm!"
And now it was Rebecca Mary who pointed out the points of interest, theold mill, the spire of the Episcopal church and the new starch factory,which was going to make the fortunes of the farmers, she told Richardwith a serious little air which he liked enormously.
"What d
o you know about starch?" he teased.
"Lots. I know that the farmers have planted loads of potatoes, and theyare going to sell them to the starch factory for enormous prices."
"Farmers always expect to sell for enormous prices, but if they have allplanted enormous crops some of them will be disappointed. There is alittle old law of supply and demand which regulates that sort of thing,you know."
"That's just it," Rebecca Mary exclaimed triumphantly. "The demand forMifflin starch is going to be so great that there will be a huge demandfor potatoes. I have a tiny bit of money that I might invest myselfnow," she told him a little proudly as she remembered how much was leftof Aunt Ellen's gift. "I might become a starch queen," she giggled.
"You might. But you might become a starch bankrupt, too. Don't you putany of your money into anything until I have a chance to look into it,"he said firmly.
"I never should have dared to ask you for advice," she began, but heinterrupted her.
"You haven't asked, I've offered, and I want you to promise you won'tbuy shares in anything until you have talked to me. I've had moreexperience in picking out good investments than you have."
Rebecca Mary laughed. "You couldn't have had less. It's awfully good ofyou, Mr. Cabot, to be willing to bother about my pennies, and when Ihave enough to do anything with I'll remember your very kind offer. Turndown this street if you want to find my home. Perhaps you would like toknow whom you will see there. There is only my mother and sister. Motheris a dear, and she has had an awfully hard time. Grace is a dear, too.She is a year and a half older than I am and looks after the publiclibrary for Mifflin. There is the house, the big frame one on thecorner. Why----" for the big frame house on the corner had just beentreated to a coat of fresh white paint, and Rebecca Mary scarcely knewit when it shone forth so resplendent with its green-blinded windows.
"What an attractive place!" Granny woke up to lean forward and tellRebecca Mary how much she liked her old home. "It looks as if it hadbeen a home for more than one generation."
"It has!" Rebecca Mary twisted around to tell her its history. "Mygrandfather built it when he brought my grandmother here a bride justafter the Civil War. It's grown since then, of course; that wing on theright and the L. It's really too big for mother and Grace but wecouldn't sell it if we wanted to. I'd hate to sell it if we could."Rebecca Mary really loved the old house and she loved it more than evernow that it was repaired and painted. It really looked imposing. She hadno reason to be ashamed of her home, and she was very grateful to AuntEllen as she slipped her arm through Granny's and led her up the brickedwalk as Mrs. Wyman and Grace hurried out to meet them.
Rebecca Mary's eyes widened as she saw the pretty summer frocks whichher mother and Grace were wearing and when she kissed Grace shewhispered in her ear: "Hurrah for Aunt Ellen!" They all stood talkingand laughing on the wide porch.
"So this is where you grew to be such a big girl?" Richard looked at theample lawn which the white fence enclosed. He seemed to find it of greatinterest.
"Yes," nodded Rebecca Mary. "That is where I made mud pies, and there isthe apple tree I climbed. I pretended it was a ship which was taking meto the Equator. I had the wildest interest in the Equator when I wasten. And that is the gate I was always running out of until mother tiedme to the apple tree."
"Why, Miss Wyman!" Joan's very foundations seemed to totter. "Were youever a bad little girl?" She couldn't believe it. Miss Wyman was herteacher and teachers,--could they ever have been bad little girls?
"Very bad!" Rebecca Mary's laughing answer did not sound at allconvincing. "At least that is what my mother said, and she should know."
Joan might have carried her investigation of this startling statementfurther if Grace had not called to her to come and see the new browncocker puppy and help choose a name for him. Richard and Rebecca Marywere left alone to talk of the days when Rebecca Mary had to be tied tothe gnarled old apple tree.
"Richard!" It was Granny who interrupted them. "If you are to call onthe Mifflin Bank don't you think you had better go?" Granny's voicealmost sounded as if she didn't quite believe that Richard owed theMifflin Bank a call.
Richard jumped up and looked at her in a dazed sort of a way for he hadcompletely forgotten the business which had brought him to Mifflin.Rebecca Mary walked to the gate with him and gave him careful directionsas to how he should find the Mifflin Bank. When he had driven away shewent with Grace to the kitchen, where she mixed sprays of mint, freshfrom the garden, with sugar and lemons and ice and ginger ale until shehad a most delicious drink. Grace arranged the little cakes she had madeon one of Grandmother Wyman's old plates.
"A new recipe of Anne Wellman's," she said, giving one to Rebecca Maryto sample. "An after the war recipe. There is nothing conserved in thesecakes. Rebecca Mary, do you know what mother and I planned last night?Neither of us has ever seen the Atlantic Ocean. I suppose you will thinkwe have lost our minds but we are going to take a part of Aunt Ellen'spresent and go to the sea shore."
"I don't!" exclaimed Rebecca Mary quickly. "I think you've just foundyour minds. As a family we should have lost the art of spending if AuntEllen hadn't sent her present just when she did. I'm glad you and motherare going to have some fun. Good old Aunt Ellen! You must send her apost card. Send her two post cards!" And the two girls laughed joyously."That's all right," Rebecca Mary went on more soberly, "but just let metell you what her present has done for me. I wrote you that I'd met thewonderful Peter Simmons, didn't I?"
"Seven pages. You do have the luck, Rebecca Mary! Why didn't you bringthe wonderful Peter with you to-day instead of the First National Bank?"
Rebecca Mary chuckled. "The First National Bank is really splendid," sheinsisted. "And awfully important. He's been perfectly corking to me. ButPeter Simmons, Grace, Peter Simmons!"
"M-m," murmured Grace enviously.
Granny was enthusiastic over the old mahogany and walnut furniture whichfilled the house and which Grandfather Wyman had brought from hisgrandfather's old home in Pennsylvania.
"It's beautiful," she exclaimed. "You don't seem to have anything butold mahogany and walnut, Mrs. Wyman. This is a real museum piece." Andshe ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the old Sheratonsideboard and looked at the old Chippendale chairs.
Rebecca Mary had come in with her big crystal pitcher and she placed thetray on the old Chippendale table. "And the reason we have nothing butold stuff," she confessed frankly, "is that we never could buy new. Isuppose it is lucky we couldn't, but it just about broke my heart a fewyears ago that we didn't have anything but four post beds and gatelegged tables. I yearned for a davenport upholstered in green veloursinstead of that ancient sofa. I wanted less old mahogany and more newclothes. Is that Mr. Cabot?" The sound of a motor car drew her to thewindow. "I hope he found the Mifflin Bank at home."
It was Richard, and when he came in he had a big box of candy under hisarm. He gave it to Mrs. Wyman.
"This isn't Mifflin candy," Grace exclaimed when she saw the temptingcontents. "You never found this in Mifflin!"
And Richard had to confess that he hadn't, that he had brought the boxfrom Waloo for Mrs. Wyman, and Grace looked at Rebecca Marysignificantly. "Very thoughtful of your First National Bank," sheseemed to say.
Mrs. Wyman drew Rebecca Mary from the little group to ask her if shewouldn't rather go east and be introduced to the Atlantic Ocean thanaccept Granny Simmons' invitation. She and Grace would love to haveRebecca Mary with them, but they wanted her to do exactly as she wished.
"I think I'll stay with Mrs. Simmons," Rebecca Mary said after amoment's frowning thought. "You see there is Joan. I couldn't take hereast very well. And, anyway, the Atlantic Ocean will keep. It has beenthere for some years, and Mrs. Simmons may never ask me again. I shouldlike to visit in a big house like hers, and she said she would take usto her country place, Seven Pines. I can board at a sea shore hotelwhenever I have the money, but I can't always visit an old dear likeGranny Simmons."
"That
is true. I hope you don't think we are foolishly extravagant,Rebecca Mary? Aunt Ellen said we were to use the money for pleasure. Andthen you wrote me what Cousin Susan said to you about memories. I dowant Grace and you to have some good times to remember. I hope it isn'tfoolish," Mrs. Wyman repeated, for deep down in her heart she wasalmost sure it was foolish to spend Aunt Ellen's present for a trip whenshe could buy a mortgage with it.
"If I told you what I honestly think we'd never save another cent, andwe'd have to take our memories to the poor house some day. Really,mother, it is the wisest thing to do. Cousin Susan convinced me thatsometimes you can pay too big a price when you save and scrimp. Do getsome pretty clothes, lots of them. They make you feel all new and--andefficient," she laughed at her choice of a word. "That's a love you haveon now. You never got it in Mifflin. And if Joan's father comes for herand Mrs. Simmons gets tired of me I'll come east and join you. I shouldlike to meet the Atlantic Ocean. I've heard quite a lot about it."
Her mother looked at her and smiled. The last time Rebecca Mary had beenhome she had not laughed like that. She had frowned over the bills andtalked of the future as of a barren desert. If taking out a memoryinsurance policy would change a girl as Rebecca Mary had changed, Mrs.Wyman was going to advocate memory insurance policies for every one.
Granny was delighted that no objections were made to her invitation, andshe asked Mrs. Wyman and Grace to spend a few days with her on theirway east. But Mrs. Wyman thanked her and said that they had planned todo their shopping in Chicago and it would be out of their way to go toWaloo. Altogether it was a very satisfactory visit, and every one wassorry when it was over and Granny and Joan were once more in the tonneauof Richard's big car.
"I like your mother and your sister and your home so much, RebeccaMary," Granny said when they had waved a last good-by before they turnedthe corner.
"So do I!" exclaimed Richard heartily.
"I do, too," repeated that echo, Joan. "Am I to talk to you on the wayhome, Granny, dear?"
"If you think it will make the ride pleasanter," Granny obligingly toldher. "But you must not be surprised if I doze in the middle of yourstory. Motor riding does make me sleepy."
The way to Mifflin had led them down the river and the way to SpiritLake took them back through a rich farming country. Richard astonishedRebecca Mary by the ease with which he could distinguish young wheatfrom oats and oats from barley or buckwheat when he was passing a fieldat the rate of thirty-five miles an hour. The fields were only a greenblur to Rebecca Mary. They reached Spirit Lake just at sunset and werepleasantly surprised to find Stanley Cabot perched on the railing of thehotel veranda smoking a cigarette. He jumped up and threw his cigaretteaway as he came to meet them.
"How pretty it is!" Rebecca Mary looked around with shining eyes. "Whatis that down by the lake?" And she nodded toward a screened pavilionwhich wore a gay necklace of colored lanterns.
"That's the dancing pavilion," Stanley told her eagerly. "Want to runover and have a fox trot? There's just time before your dinner will beready."
Rebecca Mary's eyes sparkled. "Shall we?" But she said it to Richardinstead of to Stanley.
"Sure. Come along." And Richard held out his hand.
"The dickens!" Stanley looked after them as they ran to the pavilion. "Ithought I issued the invitation. She seems to have made an impression onold Dick, Granny? I thought he was immune to girls. What is it?"
Granny, comfortably settled in a big rocking chair, looked mysterious."I expect it was her scowl. She frowned at Richard, and Richard, youknow, Stanley, isn't used to frowns. Girls have always smiled at him. Iexpect Rebecca Mary's scowl interested him."
"That might be. A girl has to offer a man new stuff to interest him. Youmay be right."
"Of course I'm right. What are you doing here, Stanley?"
And while Stanley told Granny and Joan about the sketching trip whichhad brought him to Spirit Lake, where he had found some corking effects,Rebecca Mary and Richard danced on a floor which was far from smooth andto the music of a piano and a violin which were not as harmonious as youwould wish a piano and a violin to be, but both Rebecca Mary and Richardsaid that it was the jolliest dance they had ever had when it was over,and hand in hand they ran back to the hotel and the waiting dinner. Itseemed the most natural thing in the world for them to go hand in hand,but Rebecca Mary was quite breathless when she came up the steps aftershe had pulled her fingers from Richard's hand.
"I hope we haven't kept you waiting," she cried. "But it was such fun."
"Much you care about us when you scorned my invitation and went off withmy brother," Stanley said, as if cut to the very quick. "I don't knowwhat reparation you can make unless you sit beside me and talkexclusively to me."
"Oh!" Rebecca Mary was pinkly embarrassed. "I didn't hear you deliverany invitation," she stammered, but her explanation only made mattersworse.
"Granny heard it and so did Joan." Stanley quite enjoyed teasing RebeccaMary into pink embarrassment. Perhaps he wanted to see the scowl whichhad interested Richard, but if he did he was disappointed for RebeccaMary never frowned once. She was too happy and too contented. She couldonly laugh and smile as she promised to sit beside him and talkexclusively to him. That wasn't so easy to do as to promise for therewere other girls on the screened porch where the dinner tables werearranged, and they smiled and nodded to Richard until he had to go andspeak to them.
"My brother Richard is very popular with the girls," Stanley toldRebecca Mary with a twinkle. "He's quite a boy, is my brother Richard."
"M-m," was all that Rebecca Mary would say to that, but she watched hisbrother Richard out of the tail of her eye.
Although Stanley was jolly and Richard was as devoted as those othergirls would permit, Rebecca Mary was glad when they were in the caragain and had said good-by to Stanley and the other girls and werespeeding over a road which was quite as perfect as the JeffersonHighway.
"You drive awfully well!" Rebecca Mary told Richard.
"Want to learn? It wouldn't be any trick at all to teach you."
"You shan't teach her now," exclaimed Granny, who was not so drowsy butshe had overhead him. "This is no time to teach any one. You can holdyour automobile class, Richard Cabot, some time when I'm not with you."
"All right. Miss Wyman, I'll hold a class limited to one, in motordriving some other time. Want to be the one?" He smiled down at her.
"Do I?" Rebecca Mary was almost speechless. She could only look atRichard until he flushed and murmured that he knew it would be notrouble at all to teach her, absolutely no trouble at all.
"It's been the most wonderful day!" Rebecca Mary was almost at a loss totell them how wonderful it had been when at last they stopped at herdoor again. Words seemed too inadequate.
"As pink as you expected?" asked Richard.
"Pinker. The most beautiful shade imaginable. I'll never forget how pinkit has been."
"If you liked it so much we'll go again," promised Richard, eager togive Rebecca Mary another good time. Her enthusiasm made him feel verygenerous. "And don't forget that motor class of mine!"
"Forget!" Rebecca Mary stared at him. How could she ever forget. Sheexpected to remember his motor class as long as she lived, but shedidn't tell him that. She just thanked him sedately and told him to lether know when his motor class would meet and she would try to be ontime. She did dislike tardy scholars.