CHAPTER IX.THE FIRST EVENING IN THE NEW HOME.
A FEW months later, when the spring was just opening, Beatrice and Roland stood on the wide porch of the old house in New Windsor, eagerly watching the approach of a carriage which was bringing to the Lindens the rest of their family. The girl’s feet could not keep from dancing, and the lad’s spirits found vent in a whistle so merry and so spontaneous that old Mr. Dolloway, hearing it, muttered grimly: “I hope he can keep on a feeling that way after he’s tried farming a spell. I don’t see any great fun in hard work myself, an’ that’s what he’ll get, an’ plenty of it.”
“Oh! I hope Motherkin will not be disappointed! Think of her trusting everything to her children, and saying that what we like will certainly suit her! Was there ever such a love of a mother in this world?”
“No, Bonny, I don’t believe there ever was. I can imagine no human being more perfect than our mother.”
“I mean she shall have a splendid rest now. This air is perfectly delicious! It fairly tingles through my veins, it is so pure and brilliant!”
The brother fell to whistling again.
“See! The buds are really swelling on my lindens! I wonder what their secret is.”
“I thought you professed to having found out?”
“Not quite. I did think, from the stories I have read about Revolutionary times here, that perhaps Mr. Brook believed there was a buried treasure underneath those trees somewhere. But last night I asked him, and he laughed so gayly that I knew I was on the wrong track. Miss Joanna laughed, too, and asked me if I thought all the poor old soldiers had money to bury, because she had certainly heard of enough being searched for to supply the whole army with wealth, and yet history told us that they suffered great privations. Therehavebeen some ‘pots of gold’ resurrected right here in this New Windsor town, but they did not hold enough to enrich anybody, and their contents are preserved more as curiosities than used to supply common wants.”
“So you give up that idea entirely?”
“Entirely. There they come. Oh, Mother! Here at last!”
Considerate in all things, Mr. Brook had sent his own carriage to the station to bring Mrs. Beckwith and Belle with little Robert, but he had not accompanied it himself. He wanted the first glimpse of her new home should be an impartial one on the lady’s part, and he was too prejudiced a person to refrain from pointing out this or that favorable feature of the spot he loved so well. So the family were quite by themselves, and free to express their thoughts as they were inclined without fear of wounding anybody’s preferences, had there been any danger of their doing so. But there was not. As Roland had said, when he returned from that first visit of the autumn before, “It is all so much better than one could have dreamed!” was the one and only feeling of the brave little woman who stepped down from the carriage with happy face and shining eyes.
“Here at last, my darling! All together once more. Are you not tired out with all your hard work? And, Roland, my son, it actually seems to me you have grown, even in these few days!”
“Grown in importance, Motherkin. He’s really very ‘masterful’ up here. He feels that he is the head of the family now, in good earnest. You should hear him say: ‘Bonny! that roommustbe my mother’s. It is the very sunniest, pleasantestin the whole house!’ in such a tone. As if a body wished to dispute his royal highness! But—howdoyou like it? And how did you manage in the boarding-house, after we came away with the ‘things’?”
“Oh, we managed nicely. Did everything come? Don’t you think you are very smart, you two, to take the whole responsibility of settling a house, and such a big house as this? How nice it looks! How pretty, nay, how beautiful, it all is! See the delicate green of those tree-buds! And that clump of willows by the river-side. What an exquisite color! And the plashing of the water at the foot of the bluff! I had no idea it was so lovely!”
“Now, Motherkin! That’s charming of you; but you don’t wish to waste all your enthusiasm out of doors, I hope. As for those willow boughs, I can tell you exactly what to do them in. Cadmium, Motherkin, cadmium yellow, number two, with shadows ofterre verteand umber. Oh! I know! I was taken with just such an artistic spasm the other day when I was scrubbing the kitchen pantry, and I sat right down and made a study of those willows on the back of the moulding-board. I didn’t quite finish it, though, for Roland called to me to help him with the stove-pipe,and that sort of dampened my spirits for a while. Stove-pipes have a depressing influence on mankind generally, I believe; for we couldn’t get it right, though we tried never so, and after a little while Roland had to call on Mr. Dolloway for advice. He— I fancy I had best not tell what he said. It wouldn’t have been allowed in polite society. He—”
“Bonny, do keep still! Mother, she talks all the time up here. That is one drawback I have discovered to this paradise. It is either talk or sing with Beatrice; she cannot keep still a minute.”
“Never mind! Ahappyracket never is disturbing tome. So this is my room? Well, I thank you for selecting one so big and cheerful. How well our old furniture does look, after all! And what pretty matting! It—seems like a dream. And there is almost as much space in this one apartment as in the whole of our little flat. I feel like a Mrs. Crœsus! And what a light for my embroidery!”
“Motherkin, you are not to embroider one stitch for one whole week. True. Roland has said so, and you will not dare to disobey the Laureate—and the head of the family—combined!”
It was indeed a cheerful, picturesque old farm-house,and could not have been situated more pleasantly. To the east, across the river, the highlands were violet in the light of the setting sun, and the broad stream itself was flecked here and there by the white-sailed boats which had awaked from the winter’s sleep with the opening of navigation, and now darted busily up and down intent upon making lost time good. Barges and steam-tugs, a steamer or two, and the rattle of trains on both banks of the Hudson gave what Roland called “an American flavor to an idyllic picture,” and convinced them all that in turning their backs upon the city they had not left behind them all connection with its stirring life.
“Now the greenhouse, Mother! Then you may have your supper. Miss Brook invited us there to-night, but I asked her to excuse us. I thought you would be tired and would like to eat your first meal in your new home. Though we are all to go there to dine to-morrow, and she is coming over to see you ‘early in the morning,’ which means early, too! Those two people have not a thing to do except please themselves; and how do you think they do it? One of the ‘hows’?”
“Don’t tire us with conundrums, Bonny!”pleaded Isabelle, who had made a swift tour of the whole premises and now returned to the empty little glass house where the rest had gathered.
“By having their breakfast at seven o’clock the year round!”
“Then during the week you have passed with them you have either suffered or been impolite!” said Mrs. Beckwith, with conviction.
“I wasn’t impolite, Motherkin. I didn’t keep them waiting,—they wouldn’t have waited, though,—but I was on hand every morning, sharp. So was Roland. Oh! that youth is a changed young man! If it only lasts!”
“Now, here,” said Roland, paying no attention to Bonny’s banter, “is where I have sowed my celery seed. Here is lettuce; there radishes; there onions, tomatoes, and by this side a few early potatoes. Isn’t that like living?”
“Roland, how did you know what to do? And how have you had time to accomplish so much since you came? Shall you like it?”
“Mother, you are almost as curious as Bob! It does me good to hear it. I was taught what to do by Mr. Brook’s gardener. And we have not wasted any of the hours during this past week, anyway. And I shall like it—immensely.I never felt so much a man in all my life.”
“Why, you ain’t a man, Roland! You’re only a boy,” remarked Robert, feeling a bit jealous of this big brother who had had a whole week at the Lindens, while he had been forced to remain in a city boarding-house till Beatrice and the “Laureate” prepared the home for their mother’s coming. “And don’t it look funny to see our old things in this new house! I found my own bed the first thing. It’s in a room all by my own self, ’cause Bon said so. That bed is new if nothin’ else ain’t, an’ I’m as much ’count as you if I can have a bedroom too.”
“I think that is one of the luxuries of the situation, that each member of the household can have his or her own little apartment to do in just as he pleases.”
“To do in not at all as he pleases, you mean! That girl has fidgeted herself sick lest there should be a speck of dirt left anywhere for your eyes to find, Mother. And if I laid a single thing down in my room—so-called—she’d pounce upon it and hang it up or hide it away, lest the place should ‘look like fury.’”
“Well, she has her reward. I really think she has done wonders, as well as you. And now Ithink I smell a cup of tea. If your supper is ready, Miss Housekeeper, I should be pleased to eat it.”
They had not been allowed to enter the dining-room before. Bonny had prepared her table and then locked the door. She wanted that room, next to the mother’s the most cheerful room in the house, to be a surprise to them; and she now opened the door with a flourish of arms, then stood back to enjoy the look of pleasure she was sure her mother’s face would show.
“Oh, how pretty! My dear, youhavekept the best to the last. And this will be our living-room, our ‘home’ room; and as we break bread together in it for the first time, let us each resolve that into this room, whatever of sorrow may come, there shall never come an angry word or an unloving thought. Three times each day, God willing, we will gather herein peace.”
“Then let’s call it the ‘peace-room’ Motherkin!” cried “Humpty-Dumpty,” touched for almost the first time in his life to a bit of sentiment by the sweet solemnity of his mother’s face.
“Good for you, small sir! It’s a compact! Your hand upon it, little brother! And whenever you get into a scrape, if ever such an unheard-ofthing should happen, remember this room shall be a retreat where you will be safe. I, too; and between us—”
“It will not be often unoccupied!” said Belle, saucily, and moved her mother’s chair to its place.
“What a great, big fireplace! And ain’t it wicked to burn so much wood, Roland? Must ’a’ cost a heap!” remarked Bob, leaning his head on his hands, and gazing reflectively into the bright wood fire which flamed on the hearth.
He had voiced his mother’s own thought, and she looked toward the elder son for explanation.
“No, Bob; it cost nothing but a little labor. That fire is made of driftwood which washed up on our own land. I dragged it to the wood-house and cut it up myself. Of course, Mr. Brook had a hand in the business, as he has in all this good fortune. He lent me his saw and axe; and I am to keep them till I can buy some of my own. Think of having anybody lend you anything! It is a new experience for us.”
“We do not want to become borrowers, on the strength of it, more than is necessary, my dear,” said Mrs. Beckwith.
“Don’t you fear. I am quite as independent as you, by nature. But I’ve found out something, Mother. There is as much kindness inaccepting favors, sometimes, as in conferring them. Mr. Brook feels that he is responsible for our being here. He wishes to help us get started and everything running smoothly, and then I think he means to leave us to stand on our own feet. He has sent his man over every day to help me about the grounds, and Mr. Dolloway—oh! Mr. Dolloway!”
Bonny echoed her brother’s groan in so comical a manner that Robert demanded instantly: “What’s he done, Bon? Has he been a lickin’ you? ’Cause—”
“’Cause why, my lad?”
“’Cause he’d better not! I’ll lick him back if he ’tempts it! I studied that out coming along.”
“No; he doesn’t ‘lick’ me. It would be a relief if he did. He simply stands and prophesies evil till I am about distracted. Then I get mad and long to ‘sass’ him—but don’t. For a man who has lived with such a master as long as he has he is the grumpiest old chap you can imagine. He seems to be glad to have us here, thinks ‘it’s a fine thing to have the prop’ty let, after lyin’ idle so long, yet is sure it will go to wrack and ruin bein’ took care of by a passel o’ young ones an’ one lorn female.’ My goodness!Here he comes now. Speaking o’ angels, you know. And what has he brought this time—but—a cat!”
“Yes, I always feel a place never can look homelike without a cat around,” explained the visitor, when questioned by Beatrice, “so I fetched this one over. She’s a good mouser, an’ if you don’t feed her too much’ll do well. H’m-m. Hope you like the looks o’ things, ma’am,” said Mr. Dolloway, after he had been brought in and duly presented to Mrs. Beckwith and Belle. As for Robert, the child’s presence was utterly ignored; and finding this the case, he sauntered out of the room on a tour of private inspection, or for some reason of his own which he did not care to mention.
“I do like the looks of things very, very much. I am sure we shall be very happy here if only our plans for earning our livelihood do not miscarry. To-night I feel as rich as a queen in a new palace.”
“H’m-m. Just keep a feelin’ so, ma’am. Our folks are powerful glad you’ve come, an’ things’ll go. But I dunno how they would ’a’ gone if it hadn’t been for me looking after these childern you sent up here. They mean well, but— My soul! What in the world!”
The horrible sounds which had interrupted Mr. Dolloway’s discourse appeared to come from the rear of the house, and thither everybody rushed to learn their cause.
“Burglars!” thought Mrs. Beckwith, trembling.
“Tramps!” echoed Isabelle, recalling all the outrages of that fraternity which she had ever seen recorded in the newspapers.
“Sounds like some wild animal!” cried Roland, and tried to open the door backwards, in his haste.
“My soul! It’s a cat! My—cat—I—believe!” exclaimed the visitor, wildly.
“Oh! where is Robert? My little boy—my baby!” wailed the anxious mother, as the sounds continued, and grew even fiercer.
Where was he, indeed! Till that moment they had not missed him, but now each face paled with apprehension as his absence was discovered.
“Oo-row-mur-rrow-screech! -s-spst! Ee-e-yo-ouw!”
“Humph! It’s my opinion that that sound and my small brother are connected!” said Bonny, composedly.
“Oh! if they should be!” cried Mrs. Beckwith, now actually sobbing with terror.