Aunt Crete and Donald shopping“DONALD WATCHED HER WITH SATISFACTIONâ€
“DONALD WATCHED HER WITH SATISFACTIONâ€
The gray voile was entirely satisfactory to the two shoppers. Donald recognized it as the thing many women of his acquaintance wore at the receptions he had attended in university circles. Aunt Crete fingered it wistfully, and had her inward doubts whether anything so frail and lovely, like a delicate veil, would wear; but, looking at Donald’s happy face, she decided not to mention it. The dress was more beautiful than anything she had ever dreamed of possessing. “But it won’t fit me,†she sighed as she and Miss Brower were on the way to the “trying-on†room, where the garment was to be fitted to her. “I’m so dumpy, you know, and Luella always says it’s no use to get me anything ready-made.â€
“O, the fitter will make it fit,†said Miss Browerconvincingly; and then, with a glance at the ample waist, whose old-fashioned lines lay meekly awry as if they were used to being put on that way and were beyond even discouragement: “Why don’t you wear one of those stiffened waists? There’s a new one on sale, has soft bones all around, and is real comfortable. It would make your dresses set a great deal better. If you like, I’ll go get one, and you can be fitted over it. You don’t like anything very tight, do you?â€
“No,†said Aunt Crete in a deprecatory tone, “I never could bear anything real tight. That’s what puts Luella out so about me. But, if you say there’s a waist that’s comfortable, I should be so obliged if you’d get it. I’d be willing to pay any price not to look so dumpy.â€
She felt that if it took the last cent she possessed, and made all her relatives angry with her, she must have something to fit her once.
Miss Brower, thus commissioned, went away, and returned very soon with the magical waist that was to transform Miss Lucretia’s “figger.†If Donald could have seen his aunt’s face when she was finally arrayed in the soft folds of the gray voile and was being pinned up and pinned down and pinned in and pinned out, he would have beenfully repaid. Aunt Crete’s ecstasy was marred only by the fact that Luella could not see her grandeur. Actually being fitted in a department-store to a “real imported†dress! Could mortal attain higher in this mundane sphere?
When the fitting was pronounced done and Aunt Crete was about to don her discouraged shirt-waist once more, Miss Brower appeared in the doorway with a coat and skirt suit over her arm, made of fine soft black taffeta.
“Just put this on and let the gentleman see how he likes it,†she said. She had been out to talk over matters with Donald and have an understanding as to what was wanted. She had advised the taffeta coat and skirt for travelling, with an extra cloth coat for cool days. Aunt Crete, with the new dignity that consciousness of her improved figure gave her, rustled out to her nephew looking like a new woman, her face beaming.
That was a wonderful day. Aunt Crete retired again for the black taffeta to be altered a little, and yet again for a black and white dotted swiss, and a white linen suit, and a handsome black crêpe de chine, and then to have the measure taken for the silver-gray silk, which the head dressmaker promised could be hurried through. They boughta black chiffon waist and some filmy, dreamy white shirt-waists, simple and plain in design, with exquisite lace simply applied, fine hand-made tucks, and finer material. Miss Brower advised white linen and white lawn for morning wear at the seashore, and gave Aunt Crete confidence, telling how she had a customer, “a woman about as old as you, with just such lovely white hair,†who but yesterday purchased a set of white dresses for morning wear at the seashore. This silenced the thoughts of her sister’s horror at “White for you, Crete! What are you thinking of?†Never mind, she was going to have one good time, even if she had to put all her lovely finery away in a trunk afterwards, and never bring it out again, or—dreary thought—were made to cut it over for Luella sometime. Well, it might come to that, but at least she would enjoy it while it was hers.
Two white linen skirts, a handsome black cloth coat, several pairs of silk gloves, black and white, some undergarments dainty enough for a bride, a whole dozen pairs of stockings! How Aunt Crete rejoiced in those! She had been wearing stockings whose feet were cut out of old stocking legs for fifteen years. She couldn’t remember when she had had a whole new pair of stockings all her own. And then two new bonnets.
All these things were acquired little by little. It was while they were in the millinery department, and Miss Brower had just set a charming black lace bonnet made on a foundation of white roses on the white hair, that Donald decided she was one of the most beautiful old ladies he had ever seen. The drapery was a fine black lace scarf, which swept around the roses and tied loosely on the breast; and it gave the quiet little woman a queenly air. She was getting used to seeing her own face in strange adornments, but it startled her to see that she really looked handsome in this bonnet. She stood before the transformation in the mirror almost in awe, and never heard what Miss Brower was saying:
“That’s just the thing for best, and there’s a lovely lace wrap in the cloak department she ought to have to go with it. It would be charming.â€
“Get it,†said Donald with respectful brevity. He was astonished himself at the difference mere clothes made. Aunt Crete was fairly impressive in her new bonnet. And the lace wrap proved indeed to be the very mate to the bonnet, hiding the comfortable figure, and making her look “just like other people,†as she breathlessly expressed it after one glance at herself in the lace wrap.
They bought a plain black bonnet, a sweet little gray one, a fine silk umbrella, a lot of pretty belts and handkerchiefs, some shoes and rubbers, a hand-bag of cut steel, for which Luella would have bartered her conscience—what there was left of it; and then they smiled good-by at Miss Brower, and left her for a little while, and went to lunch.
Such a lunch! Soup, and fish, and spring lamb, and fresh peas, and new potatoes, and two kinds of ice-cream in little hard sugar cases that looked like baked snow-balls. Aunt Crete’s hand trembled as she took the first spoonful. The wonders of the day had been so great that she was fairly worn out, and two little bright red spots of excitement had appeared in her cheeks, but she was happy! Happier than she remembered ever to have been in her life before. Her dear old conscience had a moment of sighing that Luella could not have been there to have enjoyed it too, and then her heart bounded in wicked gleefulness that Luella was not there to stop her nice time.
They went into a great hall in the same store, and sat among the palms and coolness made by electric fans, while a wonderful organ played exquisite music, and Aunt Crete felt she certainly was in heaven without the trouble of dying; andshe never dreamed, dear soul, that she had been dying all her life that others might live, and that it is to such that the reward is promised.
They went back to Miss Brower later; and behold! the silver-gray silk had been cut out, and was ready to fit. Aunt Crete felt it was fairy-work, the whole of it, and she touched the fabric as if it had been made by magic.
Then they went and bought a trunk and a handsome leather satchel, and Donald took a notion that his aunt must have a set of silver combs for her hair such as he saw in the hair of another old lady.
“Now,†said Donald reflectively, “we’ll go home and get rested, and to-morrow we’ll come down and buy any things we’ve forgotten.â€
“And I’m sure I don’t see what more a body could possibly need,†said Aunt Crete, as, tired and absolutely contented, she climbed into the train and sat down in the hot plush seat.
The one bitter drop in the cup of bliss came the next morning—or rather two drops—in the shape of letters. One from Aunt Carrie for Donald was couched in stiffest terms, in which she professed to have just heard of his coming, and to be exceedingly sorry that she was not at home, and waskept from returning only by a sprained ankle, the doctor telling her that she must not put her foot to the ground for two or three weeks yet, or she would have to suffer for it.
The other letter was for Aunt Crete, and was a rehash of the telephone message, with a good sound scolding for having gone away from the telephone before she finished speaking. Luella had written it herself because she felt like venting her temper on some one. The young man that had been so attentive to her in town had promenaded the piazza with another young woman all the evening before. Luella hoped Aunt Crete would put up plenty of gooseberry jam. Aunt Crete put on her double V as she read, and sighed for a full minute before Donald looked up amused from his letter.
“Now, Aunt Crete, you look as if a mountain had rolled down upon you. What’s the matter?â€
“O, I’m just afraid, Donald, that I’m doing wrong going off this way, when Carrie expects me to do all this canning and sewing and cleaning. I’m afraid she’ll never forgive me.â€
“Now, Aunt Crete, don’t you love me? Didn’t I tell you I’d stand between you and the whole world? Please put that letter up, and come andhelp me pack your new trunk. Do you want that gray silk put in first, or shall I put the shoes at the bottom? Don’t you know you and I are going to have the time of our lives? We’re going to run away from every care. Do you suppose your own sister would want you to stay here roasting in the city if she knew you had a nephew just aching to carry you off to the ocean? Come, forget it. Cut it out, Aunt Crete, and let’s pack the trunk. I’m longing to be off to smell the briny deep.†And laughingly he carried her away, and plunged her into thoughts of her journey, giving her no time the rest of the day to think of anything else.
Theylocked the house early one morning when even the dusty bricks had a smell of freshness to them before the hot sun baked them for another day. The closed blinds seemed sullen like a conquered tyrant, and the front door looked reproachfully at Aunt Crete as she turned the key carefully and tried it twice to be sure it was locked. The lonesome look of the house gave the poor old lady a pang as she turned the corner in her softly rustling silk coat and skirt. She felt it had hardly been right to put on a new black silk in the morning, and go off from all the cares of the world, just leave them, boldly ignore them, like any giddy girl, and take a vacation. She regarded herself with awe and a rising self-respect in every window she passed. Somehow the look of dumpiness had passed away mysteriously. It was not her old self that was passing along the street to the station bearing a cut-steel hand-bag, while Donald carried her new satchel, and her new trunkbumped on a square ahead in the expressman’s wagon.
It was a hot morning, and the great city station seemed close and stuffy; but Aunt Crete mingled with the steaming crowd blissfully. To be one with the world, attired irreproachably; to be on her way to a great hotel by the sea, with new clothes, and escorted devotedly by some one that was her very own, this indeed was happiness. Could any one desire more upon the earth?
Donald put her into a cab at the station, and she beamed happily out at the frightful streets that always made her heart come into her mouth on the rare occasions when she had to cross them. The ride across the city seemed a brief and distinguished experience. It was as if everybody else was walking and they only had the grandeur of a carriage. Then the ferry-boat was delightful to the new traveller, with its long, white-ceiled passages, and its smell of wet timbers and tarred ropes. They had a seat close to the front, where they could look out and watch their own progress and see the many puffing monsters laboriously plying back and forth, and the horizon-line of many masts, like fine brown lines against the sky. Aunt Crete felt that at last she was out in theworld. She could not have felt it more if she had been starting for Europe.
Aunt Crete, well-dressed and smiling at other passengers“SHE BEAMED UPON THE WHOLE TRAINFUL OF PEOPLEâ€
“SHE BEAMED UPON THE WHOLE TRAINFUL OF PEOPLEâ€
The seashore train, with its bamboo seats and its excited groups of children bearing tin pails and shovels and tennis-rackets, filled her with a fine exhilaration. At last, at last, her soul had escaped the bounds of red brick walls that she had expected would surround her as long as she lived. She drew deep breaths, and beamed upon the whole trainful of people, yelling baby and all. She gazed and gazed at the fast-flying Jersey scenery, grown so monotonous to some of the travellers, and admired every little white and green town at which they paused.
Donald put her into a carriage when they reached the shore. Half an hour off they had begun to smell the sea, and to catch glimpses of low-lying marshes and a misty blueness against the sky. Now every friendly hackman at the station seemed a part of the great day to Aunt Crete. So pretty a carriage, with low steps and gray cushions and a fringe all around the canopy, and a white speckled horse, with long, gentle, white eyelashes. Aunt Crete leaned back self-consciously on the gray cushions, and enjoyed the creak of her silk jacket as she settled into place.She felt as if this was a play that would soon be over; but she would enjoy it to the very end, and then go back to her dish-washing and cellar-cleaning, and being blamed, and bear them all in happy remembrance of what she had had for one blissful vacation.
She did not know that Donald had telephoned ahead for the best apartments in the hotel. She was engaged in watching for the first blue line of the great mysterious ocean; and, when it came into sight, billowing suddenly above the line of board walk as they turned a corner, her heart stood still for one moment, and then bounded onward set to the time of wonder.
Two obsequious porters jumped to assist Aunt Crete from the carriage. The hand-baggage drifted up the steps as if by magic, and awaited them in the apartments to which they arose in a luxurious elevator. Aunt Crete noticed several old ladies with pink and blue wool knitting, sitting in a row of large rocking-chairs, as she glided up to the second floor. It gave her rest on one point, for they all wore white dresses. She had been a little dubious about those white dresses that Donald had insisted upon. But now she might enjoy them unashamed. O, what would Luella say?
She glanced around the room, half-fearfully expecting to find Luella waiting there. Somehow, now she was here, she wanted to get used to it and enjoy it all before Luella came. For Luella was an uncertain quantity. Luella might not like it, after all! Dreadful thought! And after Donald had taken so much trouble and spent so much money all to surprise them!
The smiling porter absorbed the goodly tip that Donald handed him, and went his way. Aunt Crete and Donald were left alone. They looked at each other and smiled.
“Let’s look around and see where they’ve put us,†said Donald, pushing the swaying curtains aside; and there before them rolled the blue tide of the ocean. Aunt Crete sank into a chair, and was silent for a while; and then she said: “It’s just as big as I thought it would be. I was so afraid it wouldn’t be. Some folks next door went down to the shore last year, and they said it didn’t look big enough to what they’d expected; and I’ve been afraid ever since.â€
Donald’s eyes filled with a tender light that was beautiful to see. He was enjoying the spending of his money, and it was yielding him a rich reward already.
The apartments that had been assigned to them consisted of a parlor and two large bedrooms with private baths. Donald discovered a few moments later, when he went down to the office to investigate, that Luella and his aunt occupied a single room on the fourth floor back, overlooking the kitchen court. It was not where he would have placed them, had they chosen to await his coming and be taken down to the shore in style. But now that they had run away from him, and were too evidently ashamed of him, perhaps it was as well to let them remain where they were, he reflected.
“Aunt Carrie and Luella have gone out with a party in a carriage for an all-day drive to Pleasure Bay,†announced Donald when he came up. “Aunt Carrie’s ankle must be better.â€
“Well, that’s real nice!†exclaimed Aunt Crete with a smile, turning from her view of the sea, where she had been ever since he left her. “I’m glad Luella is having a good time, and we sha’n’t miss her a mite. You and I’ll have the ocean all to ourselves to-day.â€
Donald smiled approvingly. He was not altogether sure he cared to meet that other aunt and cousin at all. He was not sure but he would liketo run away from them, and carry Aunt Crete with him.
“Very well,†he said, “I’m glad you’re not disappointed. We’ll do just whatever we want to. Would you like to go in bathing?â€
“O, my! Could I? I’ve always thought I’d like to see how it would feel, but I guess I’m too old. Besides, there’s my figger. It wouldn’t look nice in a bathing-suit. Luella wouldn’t like it a bit, and I don’t want to disgrace her, now I’m here. She always makes a lot of fun of old people going in and sitting right on the edge of the water. I guess it won’t do.â€
“Yes, it will do, if you want to. Didn’t I tell you this was my party, and Luella isn’t in it? That’s ridiculous. I’ll take you in myself, Aunt Crete, and we’ll have the best time out; and you sha’n’t be scared, either. I can swim like a fish. You shall go in every day. Would you like to begin at once?â€
“I should,†said Aunt Crete, rising with a look of resolution in her face. She felt that Luella would condemn the amusement for her; so, if she was to dare it, it must be done before her niece appeared.
They went down to the beach, and for a fewminutes surveyed the bathers as they came out to the water. Then with joy and daring in her face Aunt Crete went into the little bath-house with wildly beating heart, arrayed herself in the gay blue flannel garb provided for her use, and came timidly out to meet Donald, tall and smiling in his blue jerseys.
They had a wonderful time. It was almost better than shopping. Donald led her down to the water, and very gently accustomed her to it until he had led her out beyond the roughness, where his strong arms lifted her well above the swells until she felt as if she was a bird. It was marvellous that she was not afraid, but she was not. It was as if she had that morning been transferred back over forty years to her youth again, and was having the good times that she had longed for, such as other girls had—the swings, and the rides, and the skatings, and bicyclings. How many such things she had watched through the years, with her heart palpitating with daring to do it all herself! Her petulant sister and the logy Luella never dreamed that Aunt Crete desired such un-auntly indulgences. If they had, they would have taken it out of her, scorched it out with scorn.
The white hair with its natural waves fluffed out beautifully, like a canary’s feathers, after the bath, and Aunt Crete was smiling and charming at lunch in one of her fine new white dresses. She had hurried to put it on before Luella appeared, lest they might all be spirited away from her if Luella discovered them. She reflected with a sigh that they would likely fit Luella beautifully, and that that would probably be their final destination, just as Luella’s discarded garments came to her.
But there was nothing to mar the lunch-time and the beautiful afternoon, wherein, after a delicious nap to the accompaniment of the music of the waves, she was taken to drive in the fringed carriage again, while a bunch of handsome ladies, old and young, sat on the hotel piazza in more of those abundant rockers, and watched her approvingly. She felt that she was of some importance in their eyes. She had suddenly blossomed out of her insignificance, and was worth looking at. It warmed her heart with humble pleasure. She felt that she had won approval, not through any merit of her own, but through Donald’s loving-kindness. It was wonderful what a charm clothes could work.
“Put on your gray silk for dinner,†said Donald with malice aforethought in his heart.
“O,†gasped Aunt Crete, “I think I ought to keep that for parties, don’t you?â€
“If ever there was a party, it’s going to be to-night,†said Donald. “It’s going to be a surprise-party. You want to see if Aunt Carrie and Luella will know you, you know.â€
So with trembling fingers Aunt Crete arrayed herself in her purple and fine linen, very materially assisted by a quiet maid, whom Donald had ordered sent to the room, and who persuaded Aunt Crete to let her arrange the pretty white hair.
It was surprising to see, when the coiffure was complete, that she looked quite like the other old ladies, who were not old at all, only playing old.
“I don’t believe they will know me,†whispered Aunt Crete to herself as she stood before the full-length mirror and surveyed the effect. “And I didn’t think I could ever look like that!†she murmured after a more prolonged gaze, during which she made the acquaintance of her new self. Then she added half wistfully: “I wish I had known it before. I think perhaps they’d have—liked me—more if I’d looked that way all the time.†She sighed half regretfully, as if she were biddinggood-by to this new vision, and went out to Donald, who awaited her. She felt that the picnic part of her vacation was almost over now, for Carrie and Luella would be sure to manage to spoil it someway.
Donald looked up from his paper with a welcome in his eyes. It was the first time she had seen him in evening dress, and she thought him handsome as a king.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Aunt Crete; do you know it?†said Donald with satisfaction. He had felt that the French maid would know how to put just the right touch to Aunt Crete’s pretty hair to take away her odd, “unused†appearance. Now she was completely in the fashion, and she looked every inch a lady. She somehow seemed to have natural intuition for gentle manners. Perhaps her kindly heart dictated them, for surely there can be no better manners than come wrapped up with the Golden Rule, and Aunt Crete had lived by that all her life.
They entered the great dining-hall, and made their way among the palms in a blaze of electric light, with the head waiter bowing obsequiously before them. They had a table to themselves, and Aunt Crete rejoiced in the tiny shaded candles andthe hothouse roses in the centre, and lifted the handsome napkins and silver forks with awe. Sometimes it seemed as if she were still dreaming.
The party from Pleasure Bay had reached home rather late in the afternoon, after a tedious time in the hot sun at a place full of peanut-stands and merry-go-rounds and moving-picture shows. Luella had not had a good time. She had been disappointed that none of the young men in the party had paid her special attention. In fact, the special young man for whose sake she had prodded her mother into going had not accompanied them at all. Luella was thoroughly cross.
“Mercy, how you’ve burned your nose, Luella!†said her mother sharply. “It’s so unbecoming. The skin is all peeling off. I do wish you’d wear a veil. You can’t afford to lose your complexion, with such a figure as you have.â€
“O, fiddlesticks! I wish you’d let up on that, ma,†snapped Luella. “Didn’t you get a letter from Aunt Crete? I wonder what she’s thinking about not to send that lavender organdie. I wanted to wear it to-night. There’s to be a hop in the ballroom, and that would be just the thing. She ought to have got it done; she’s had time enough since I telephoned. I suppose she’s goneto reading again. I do wish I’d remembered to lock up the bookcase. She’s crazy for novels.â€
All this time Luella was being buttoned into a pink silk muslin heavily decorated with cheap lace. There were twenty-six tiny elusive buttons, and Luella’s mother was tired.
“What on earth makes you so long, ma?†snarled Luella, twisting her neck to try to see her back. “We’ll be so late we won’t get served, and I’m hungry as a bear.â€
They hurried down, arriving at the door just as Aunt Crete and Donald were being settled into their chairs by the smiling head waiter.
“For goodness’ sake! those must be swells,†said Luella in a low tone. “Did you see how that waiter bowed and smiled? He never does that to us. I expect he got a big tip. See, they’re sitting right next our table. Goodness, ma, your hair is all slipped to one side. Put it up quick. No, the other side. Say, he’s an awfully handsome young man. I wonder if we can get introduced. I just know he dances gracefully. Say, mother, I’d like to get him for a partner to-night. I guess those stuck-up Grandons would open their eyes then.â€
“Hush, Luella; he’ll hear you.â€
They settled into their places unassisted by thedilatory waiter, who came languidly up a moment later to take their order.
Aunt Crete’s back was happily toward her relatives, and so she ate her dinner in comfort. The palms were all about, and the gentle clink of silver and glass, and refined voices. The soft strains of an orchestra hidden in a balcony of ferns and palms drowned Luella’s strident voice when it was raised in discontented strain, and so Aunt Crete failed to recognize the sound. But Donald had been on the alert. In the first place, he had asked a question or two, and knew about where his relatives usually sat, and had purposely asked to be placed near them. He studied Luella when she came in, and felt pretty sure she was the girl he had seen on the platform of the train the morning he arrived in Midvale; and finally in a break in the music he distinctly caught the name “Luella†from the lips of the sour woman in the purple satin with white question-marks all over it and plasters of white lace.
Aunt Carrie was tall and thin, with a discontented droop to her lips, and premature wrinkles. She wore an affected air of abnormal politeness and disapproval of everything. She was studying the silver-gray silk back in front of her andwondering what there was about that elegant-looking woman with the lovely white waved pompadour and puffs, and that exquisite real lace collar, to remind her of poor sister Lucretia. She always coupled the adjective “poor†with her sister’s name when she thought of all her shortcomings.
Luella’s discontent was somewhat enlivened by the sight of the young man that had not gone on the drive to Pleasure Bay. He stood in the doorway, searching the room with keen, interested eyes. Could it be that he was looking for her? Luella’s heart leaped in a moment’s triumph. Yes, he seemed to be looking that way as if he had found the object of his search, and he was surely coming down toward them with a real smile on his face. Luella’s face broke into preparatory smiles. She would be very coy, and pretend not to see him; so she began a voluble and animated conversation with her mother about the charming time they had had that day, which might have surprised the worthy woman if she had not been accustomed to her daughter’s wiles. She knew it to be a warning of the proximity of some one that Luella wished to charm.
The young man came on straight by the solicitouswaiters, who waved him frantically to various tables. Luella cast a rapid side glance, and talked on gayly with drooping head and averted gaze. Her mother looked up, wondering, to see what was the cause of Luella’s animation. He was quite near now, and in a moment more he would speak. The girl felt excited thrills creeping up her back, and the color rushed into her cheeks, which were already red enough from the wind and sun of the day.
“Well, well,†said the young man’s voice in a hearty eagerness Luella had never hoped to hear addressed to herself, “this is too good to be true. Don, old man, where did you drop from? I saw your name in the register, and rushed right into the dining-room——â€
“Clarence Grandon, as true as I live!†said a pleasant voice behind Luella. “I thought you were in Europe, bless your heart. This is the best thing that could have happened. Let me introduce my aunt——â€
Some seconds before this Luella’s thrills had changed to chills. Mortification stole over her face and up to the roots of her hair. Even the back of her neck, where her bathing-suit was cut low and square, turned angry-looking. The pinkmuslin had a round neck, and showed a half-circle of whiter neck below the bathing-suit square. But Luella had the presence of mind to smile on to her mother in mild pretence that she had but just noticed the advent of the young man behind. An obsequious waiter was bringing an extra chair for Mr. Grandon, and he was to be seated so that he could look toward their table. Perhaps he would recognize her yet, and there might be a chance of introduction to the handsome stranger. Luella dallied with her dinner in fond hope, and her mother aided and abetted her.
The lovely old lady with the silver-gray silk and the real lace collar and beautiful hair had her back squarely toward the table where Luella and her mother sat. They could not see her face. They could only notice how interested both the young men were in her, and how courteous they were to her; and they decided she must be some very great personage indeed. They watched her half enviously, and began to plan some way to scrape an acquaintance with her. One glimpse they had of her face as the head waiter rushed to draw back her chair when she had finished her dinner. It was a fine, handsome face, younger than they had expected to see, with beautiful sparkling eyes fullof mirth and contentment. What was there in the face that reminded them of something? Had they ever met that old lady before?
Luella and her mother brought their dallied dessert to a sudden ending, and followed hard upon the footsteps of the three down the length of the dining-hall; but the lady in gray and her two attendants had disappeared already, and disconsolately they lingered about, looking up and down the length of piazzas in vain hope to see them sitting in one of the great rows of rockers, watching the many-tinted waves in the dying evening light; but there was no sign of them anywhere.
As they stood thus leaning over the balcony, a large automobile, gray, with white cushions, like a great gliding dove, slipped silently up to the entrance below them in the well-bred silence that an expensive machine knows how to assume under dignified owners.
Luella twitched her mother’s sleeve. “That’s Grandon’s car,†she whispered. “P’raps I’ll get asked to go. Let’s sit down here and wait.â€
The mother obediently sat down.
Theyhad not long to wait. They heard the elevator door slide softly open, and then the gentle swish of silken skirts. Luella looked around just in time to be recognized by young Mr. Grandon if he had not at that moment been placing a long white broadcloth coat about his mother’s shoulders. There were four in the party, and Luella’s heart sank. He would not be likely to ask another one. The young man and the gray-silk, thread-lace woman from the other dining-table were going with them, it appeared. Young Mr. Grandon helped the gray-silk lady down the steps while the handsome stranger walked by Mrs. Grandon. They did not look around at the people on the piazza at all. Luella bit her lips in vexation.
“For pity’s sake, Luella, don’t scowl so,†whispered her mother; “they might look up yet and see you.â€
This warning came just in time; for young Mr. Grandon just as he was about to start the car glanced up, and, catching Luella’s fixed gaze, gaveher a distant bow, which was followed by a courteous lifting of the stranger’s hat.
Aunt Crete was seated beside Mrs. Grandon in the back seat and beaming her joy quietly. She was secretly exulting that Luella and Carrie had not been in evidence yet. She felt that her joy was being lengthened by a few minutes more, for she could not get away from the fear that her sister and niece would spoil it all as soon as they appeared upon the scene.
“I thought Aunt Carrie and Luella would be tired after their all-day trip, and we wouldn’t disturb them to-night,†said Donald in a low tone, looking back to Aunt Crete as the car glided smoothly out from the shelter of the wide piazza.
Aunt Crete smiled happily back to Donald, and raised her eyes with a relieved glance toward the rows of people on the piazza. She had been afraid to look her fill before lest she should see Luella frowning at her somewhere; but evidently they had not got back yet, or perhaps had not finished their dinner.
As Aunt Crete raised her eyes, Luella and her mother looked down into her upturned face enviously, but Aunt Crete’s gaze had but just grazed them and fallen upon an old lady of stately mienwith white, fluffy hair like her own, and a white crêpe de chine gown trimmed with much white lace. In deep satisfaction Aunt Crete reflected that, if Luella had aught to say against her aunt’s wearing modest white morning-gowns, she would cite this model, who was evidently an old aristocrat if one might judge by her jewels and her general make-up.
Carrie and Luella looking off porch at woman in car“‘SOMEWHERE I HAVE SEEN THAT WOMAN,’ EXCLAIMED LUELLA’S MOTHERâ€
“‘SOMEWHERE I HAVE SEEN THAT WOMAN,’ EXCLAIMED LUELLA’S MOTHERâ€
“Somewhere I’ve seen that woman with the gray silk!†exclaimed Luella’s mother suddenly as Aunt Crete swept by. “There’s something real familiar about the set of her shoulders. Look at the way she raises her hand to her face. My land! I believe she reminds me of your Aunt Crete!â€
“Now, mother!†scorned Luella. “As if Aunt Crete could ever look like that! You must be crazy to see anything in such an elegant lady to remind you of poor old Aunt Crete. Why, ma, this woman is the real thing! Just see how her hair’s put up. Nobody but a French maid could get it like that. Imagine Aunt Crete with a French maid. O, I’d die laughing. She’s probably washing our country cousin’s supper dishes at this very minute. I wonder if her conscience doesn’t hurt her about my lavender organdie. Say,ma, did you notice how graceful that handsome stranger was when he handed the ladies into the car? My, but I’d like to know him. I think Clarence Grandon is just a stuck-up prig.â€
Her mother looked at her sharply.
“Luella, seems to me you change your mind a good deal. If I don’t make any mistake, you came down here so’s to be near him. What’s made you change your mind? He doesn’t seem to go with any other girls.â€
“No, he just sticks by his mother every living minute,†sighed Luella unhappily. “I do wish I had that lavender organdie. I look better in that than anything else I’ve got. I declare I think Aunt Crete is real mean and selfish not to send it. I’m going in to see if the mail has come; and, if the organdie isn’t here, nor any word from Aunt Crete, I’m going to call her up on the telephone again.â€
Luella vanished into the hotel office, and her mother sat and rocked with puckered brows. She very much desired a place in high society for Luella, but how to attain it was the problem. She had not been born for social climbing, and took hardly to it.
Meantime the motor-car rolled smoothly overthe perfect roads, keeping always that wonderful gleaming sea in sight; and Aunt Crete, serenely happy, beamed and nodded to the pleasant chat of Mrs. Grandon, and was so overpowered by her surroundings that she forgot to be overpowered by the grand Mrs. Grandon. As in a dream she heard the kindly tone, and responded mechanically to the questions about her journey and the weather in the city, and how lovely the sea was to-night; but, as she spoke the few words with her lips, her soul was singing, and the words of its song were these:
“Must I be carried to the skiesOn flowery beds of ease,While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas?â€
“Must I be carried to the skiesOn flowery beds of ease,While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas?â€
“Must I be carried to the skiesOn flowery beds of ease,While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas?â€
“Must I be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize
And sailed through bloody seas?â€
And it seemed to her as they glided along the palace-lined shore, with the rolling sea on one hand, and the beautiful people in their beautiful raiment at ease and happy on the other hand, that she was picked right up out of the hot little brick house in the narrow street, and put on a wonderfully flowery bed of ease, and was floating right into a heaven of which her precious Donald was a bright, particular angel. She forgot all about Luella and what she might say, and just enjoyed herself.
She even found herself telling the elegant Mrs. Grandon exactly how she made piccalilli, and her heart warmed to the other woman as she saw that she was really interested. She had never supposed, from the way in which Luella spoke of the Grandons, that they would even deign to eat such a common thing as a pickle, let alone knowing anything about it. Aunt Crete’s decision was that Mrs. Grandon wasn’t stuck up in the least, but just a nice, common lady like any one; and, as she went up in the elevator beside her, and said good-night, she felt as if she had known her all her life.
It was not until she had turned out her light and crept into the great hotel bed that it came to her to wonder whether Luella and Carrie could be meant by the ones in the hymn,
“While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas.â€
“While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas.â€
“While others fought to win the prizeAnd sailed through bloody seas.â€
“While others fought to win the prize
And sailed through bloody seas.â€
She couldn’t help feeling that perhaps she had been selfish in enjoying her day so much when for aught she knew Luella might not be having a good time. For Luella not to have a good time meant blame for her aunt generally. Ever since Luella had been born it had been borne in upon Aunt Crete that there was a moral obligation upon her to make Luella have a good time. And now AuntCrete was having a good time, the time of her life; and she hugged herself, she was so happy over it, and thought of the dear stars out there in the deep, dark blue of the arching sky, and the cool, dark roll of the white-tipped waves, and was thankful.
Luella and her mother had gloomily watched the dancing through the open windows of the ballroom; but, as they knew no one inside, they did not venture in. Luella kept one eye out for the return of the car, but somehow missed it, and finally retired to the solace of cold-cream and the comforts of the fourth floor back, where lingered in the atmosphere a reminder of the dinner past and a hint of the breakfast that was to come.
As the elevator ascended past the second floor, the door of one of the special apartments stood wide, revealing a glimpse of the handsome young stranger standing under the chandelier reading a letter, his face alive with pleasure. Luella sighed enviously, and in her dreams strove vainly to enter into the charmed circle where these favored beings moved, and knew not that of her own free will she had closed the door to that very special apartment, which might have been hers but for her own action.
The next morning Luella was twisting her neckin a vain endeavor to set the string of artificial puffs straight upon the enormous cushion of her hair, till they looked for all the world like a pan of rolls just out of the oven. She had jerked them off four separate times, and pulled the rest of her hair down twice in a vain attempt to get just the desired effect; and her patience, never very great at any time, was well-nigh exhausted. Her mother was fretting because the best pieces of fish and all the hot rolls would be gone before they got down to breakfast, and Luella was snapping back in most undaughterly fashion, when a noticeable tap came on the door. It was not the tap of the chambermaid of the fourth floor back, nor of the elevator boy, who knew how to modulate his knock for every grade of room from the second story, ocean front, up and back. It was a knock of rare condescension, mingled with a call to attention; and it warned these favored occupants of room 410 to sit up and take notice, not that they were worthy of any such consideration as was about to fall upon them.
Luella drove the last hairpin into the puffs, and sprang to the door just as her mother opened it. She felt something was about to happen. Could itbe that she was to be invited to ride in that automobile at last, or what?
There in the hall, looking very much out of place, and as if he hoped his condescension would be appreciated, but he doubted it, stood the uniformed functionary that usually confined his activities to the second floor front, where the tips were large and the guests of unquestioned wealth, to say nothing of culture. He held in his hand a shining silver tray on which lay two cards, and he delivered his message in a tone that not only showed the deference he felt for the one who had sent him, but compelled such deference also on the part of those to whom he spoke.
“De lady and gen’leman says, Will de ladies come down to the private pahlah as soon aftah breakfus’ as is convenient, room number 2, second flo’ front?†He bowed to signify that his mission was completed, and that if it did not carry through, it was entirely beyond his sphere to do more.
Luella grasped the cards and smothered an exclamation of delight. “Second floor, front,†gasped her mother. “The private parlor! Did you hear, Luella?â€
But Luella was standing by the one window,frowning over the cards. One was written and one engraved, a lady’s and a gentleman’s cards. “Miss Ward.†“Mr. Donald Ward Grant.â€
“For the land’s sake, ma! Who in life are they? Do you know any Miss Ward? You don’t s’pose it’s that lovely gray-silk woman. Miss Ward. Donald Ward Grant. Who can they be, and what do you suppose they want? Grant. Donald Grant. Where have I, why—! O, horrors, ma! It can’t be that dreadful cousin has followed us up, can it? Donald Grant is his name, of course; yes, Donald Ward Grant. It was the Ward that threw me off. But who is the other? Miss Ward. Ma! You don’t——!â€
“Luella Burton, that’s just what it is! It’s your Aunt Crete and that dreadful cousin. Crete never did have any sense, if she is my sister. But just let me get speech of her! If I don’t make her writhe. I think I’ll find a way to make her understand——â€
Luella’s expansive bravery beneath the row of biscuit puffs seemed to shrink and cringe as she took in the thought.
“O ma!†she groaned. “How could she? And here of all places! To come here and mortify me! It is just too dreadful. Ma, it can’t be true. AuntCrete would never dare. And where would she get the money? She hasn’t a cent of her own, has she? You didn’t go and leave her money, did you?â€
“No, only a little change in my old pocketbook; it wouldn’t have been enough to come down here on, unless she bought a day excursion. Wait. I did leave five dollars to pay the grocer bill with. But Crete surely wouldn’t take that. Still, there’s no telling. She always was a kind of a child. O, dear! What shall we do?†The mother sat down on the tumbled bed beside the tray of Luella’s cheap trunk.
“Well, we must do something, that’s certain, if we have to run away again. It would never do to have those two appear here now. Mercy! think of Aunt Crete in her old black and white silk sitting next table to that lovely lady in gray. I should simply sink through the floor.â€
“We can’t run away, Luella,†snapped the practical mother. “We’ve paid for our room two weeks ahead. I didn’t want to do that; but you thought if Aunt Crete should get any nonsense into her head about our coming home, we could tell we’d paid for the room, and that would settle it with her. So now it’s done, and we can’t afford not toabide by it. Besides, what good would that do? We couldn’t afford to go anywhere but home, and that would be as bad as it was in the first place. We’ve got to think it out. If I just had hold of Crete a minute, I’d make her fix it up. She’d have to think some way out of it herself without any of my help, to pay her for her stupidity in coming. I can’t understand how she’d do it.â€
“I didn’t think she’d dare!†glared Luella with no pleasant expression on her face.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll have to do, Luella,†said her mother. “We’ll slip down those stairs in the back hall. I went down one day, and they go right out on the piazza that runs in front of the dining-room. We’ll just slip in the back door, and get our breakfast right away. It’s getting pretty late. You better hurry. They’ve likely come up from town on that very early train, and they’ll sit and wait for us. We’ll ring for a messenger bell-boy, and send down a note that my ankle is so much worse I can’t come down-stairs, and you can’t leave me. We’ll say: ‘Mrs. Burton and Miss Burton regret that they cannot come down as requested; but Mrs. Burton is confined to her bed by a sprained ankle, and her daughter cannot leave her. Miss Ward will have to come up.’ Youwrite it on one of your visiting-cards, Luella, and we’ll send it down as quick as we get back from breakfast. Hurry up. The only thing about it will be that climb up three flights after breakfast, but it won’t do for us to risk the elevator. Crete might recognize us, for the elevator goes right by that second-floor front parlor. What I don’t understand is how they got in there. It’s only rich people can afford that. But, land! Crete’s just like a baby; hasn’t been out in the world ever; and very likely she never asked how much the rooms were, but just took the best she could lay eyes on. Or more likely it’s a mistake, and she’s sitting in that little reception-room down on the office floor, and thinks it the second floor because she came up such a long flight of steps from the sidewalk. We’ll have to tell the bell-boy to hunt up the fellow that brought up their cards, and take it to the same folks. Come on now, Luella, and go slow when you turn corners. There’s no telling but they might be prowling round trying to hunt us; so keep a lookout.â€
Thus by devious and back ways they descended to a late breakfast, and scuttled up again without being molested.
Luella wrote the note on her card as her motherdictated, and a small boy all brass buttons was despatched with careful directions; and then the two retired behind their ramparts, and waited.
Time went by, until half an hour had elapsed since they came back from breakfast. They had listened anxiously to every footfall in the hall, and part of the time Luella kept the door open a crack with her ear to it. Their nerves were all in a quiver. When the chambermaid arrived, they were fairly feverish to get her out of the way. If Aunt Crete should come while she was in the room, it might get all over the hotel what kind of relatives they had.
Mrs. Burton suggested to the chambermaid that she leave their room till last, as they wanted to write some letters before going out; but the maid declared she must do the room at once or not at all. The elevator slid up and down around the corner in the next hall. They heard a footfall now and then, but none that sounded like Aunt Crete’s. They rang again for the office-boy, who declared he had delivered the message in the second floor, front, and that the lady and gentleman were both in and said, “All right.†He vanished impudently without waiting for Luella’sprobing questions, and they looked at each other in anxiety and indignation.
“It is too mean, ma, to lose this whole morning. I wanted to go in bathing,†complained Luella, “and now no telling how long I’ll have to stick in this dull room. I wish Aunt Crete was in Halifax. Why couldn’t I have had some nice relatives like that lovely old gray-silk lady and her son?â€
Just then the elevator clanged open and shut, and steps came down the hall. It certainly was not Aunt Crete. Luella flew to the door at the first tap; and there, submerged in a sheaf of American Beauty roses, stood the functionary from the lower floor, with a less pompous manner than he had worn before. The roses had caused his respect for the occupants of the fourth floor, back, to rise several degrees.
Luella stood speechless in wonder, looking first at the roses and then at the servant. Such roses had never come into her life before. Could it be—must it be—but a miserable mistake?
Then the servant spoke.
“Miss Ward sends de flowers, an’ is sorry de ladies ain’t well. She send her regrets, an’ says she can’t come to see de ladies ’count of a drive she’d promised to take to-day, in which she’dhoped to have de ladies’ comp’ny. She hopes de ladies be better dis even’n’.â€
He was gone, and the mother and daughter faced each other over the roses, bewilderment and awe in their faces.
“Whatdid he say, Luella?Whosent those roses? MissWard? Luella, there’s some mistake. Aunt Crete couldn’t have sent them. She wouldn’tdare! Besides, where would she get the money? It’s perfectly impossible. It can’t be Aunt Crete, after all. It must be some one else with the same name. Perhaps Donald has picked up some one here in the hotel; you can’t tell; or perhaps it isn’t our Donald at all. It’s likely there’s other Donald Grants in the world. What we ought to have done was to go down at once and find out, and not skulk in a corner. But you’re always in such a hurry to do something, Luella. There’s no telling at all who this is now. It might be those folks you admired so much, though what on earth they should have sent their cards to us for—and those lovely roses—I’m sure I don’t know.â€
“Now, ma, you needn’t blame me. It was you proposed sending that note down; you know it was, mother; and of course I had to do what yousaid. I was so upset, anyway, I didn’t know what was what. But now, you see, perhaps you’ve cut me out of a lovely day. We might have gone on a ride with them.â€
“Luella,†her mother broke in sharply, “if you talk another word like that, I’ll take the next train back home. You don’t know what you are talking about. It may be Aunt Crete, after all, and a country cousin for all you know; and, if it is, would you have wanted to go driving in the face of the whole hotel, with like as not some old shin-and-bones horse and a broken-down carriage?â€
Luella was silenced for the time, and the room settled into gloomy meditation.
MeantimeAunt Crete in the whitest of her white was settling herself comfortably on the gray cushions of the fringed phaeton again, relief and joy mingled in her countenance. It was not that she was glad that Carrie’s ankle was so bad, but that she was to have another short reprieve before her pleasure was cut off. Soon enough, she thought, would she be destined to sit in the darkened room and minister to her fussy sister, while Luella took her place in the carriages and automobiles with her handsome young cousin, as young folks should do, of course; but O, it was good, good, that a tired old lady, who had worked hard all her life, could yet have had this bit of a glimpse of the brighter side of life before she died.
It would be something to sit and think over as she scraped potatoes for dinner, or picked over blackberries for jam, or patiently sewed on Val lace for Luella. It would be an event to date from, and she could fancy herself mildly saying to Mrs. Judge Waters, when she sat beside her some timeat missionary meeting, if she ever did again, “When my nephew took me down to the shore,†etc. She never knew just what to talk about when she sat beside Mrs. Judge Waters, but here was a topic worth laying before such a great lady.
Well, it was something to be thankful for, and she resolved she just would not think of poor Carrie and Luella until her beautiful morning was over. Then she would show such patience and gratitude as would fully make up to them for her one more day of pleasure.
It was Donald, of course, who had suggested the roses. When the message came from the fourth floor back, Aunt Crete had turned white about the mouth, and her eyes had taken on a frightened, hunted look, while the double V in her forehead flashed into sight for the first time since they had reached the Atlantic coast. He saw at once in what terror Aunt Crete held her sister and niece, and his indignation arose in true Christian fashion. He resolved to place some nice hot coals on the heads of his unpleasant relatives, and run away with dear Aunt Crete again; hence the roses and the message, and Aunt Crete was fairly childish with pleasure over them when he finally persuaded her that it would be all right to send thesein place of going up herself as she had been bidden.
She listened eagerly as Donald gave careful directions for the message, and the stately functionary respectfully repeated the words with his own high-sounding inflection. It made the pink come and go again in Aunt Crete’s cheeks, and she felt that Luella and Carrie could not be angry with her after these roses, and especially when everything was being done up in so nice, stylish a manner.
The drive was one long dream of bliss to Aunt Crete. They went miles up the coast, and took lunch at a hotel much grander than the one they had left, so that when they returned in the afternoon Aunt Crete felt much less awe of the Traymore, her experience in hotels having broadened. They also met some friends of Donald’s, a professor from his alma mater, who with his wife was just returning from a trip to Europe.
The bathers were making merry in the waves as they returned, and Aunt Crete’s wistful look made Donald ask whether she felt too tired to take another dip, but she declared she was not one bit tired.
She came from her bath with shining eyes andtriumphant mien. Whatever happened now, she had been in bathing twice. She felt like quite an experienced bather, and she could dream of that wonderful experience of being lifted high above the swells in Donald’s strong young arms.
She obediently took her nap, and surrendered herself to the hands of the maid to have the finishing touches put to her toilet. It was the soft gray voile that she elected to wear to-night, and Donald admired her when she emerged from her room in the dress, looking every inch a lady.
A knock sounded at the door before he had had time to give Aunt Crete a word of his admiration; but his eyes had said enough, and she felt a glow of humble pride in her new self, the self that he had created out of what she had always considered an unusually plain old woman. With the consciousness of her becoming attire upon her she turned with mild curiosity to see who had knocked; and, behold, her sister and niece stood before her!
The day had been passed by them in melancholy speculations and the making and abandoning of many plans of procedure. After careful deliberation they at last concluded that there was nothing to be done but go down and find out who thesepeople really were, and if possible allay the ghost of their fears and set themselves free from their dull little room.
“If it should be Aunt Crete and Donald, we’ll just settle them up and send them off at once, won’t we, mother?â€
“Certainly,†said Mrs. Burton with an angry snap to her eyes. “Trust me to settle with your Aunt Crete if it’s really her. But I can’t think it is. It isn’t like Crete one bit to leave her duty. She’s got a lot of work to do, and she never leaves her work till it’s done. It must be some one else. What if it should be those folks you admire so much? I’ve been thinking. We had some New York cousins by the name of Ward. It might be one of them, and Donald might have gone to them first, and they’ve brought him down here. I can’t think he’s very much, though. But we’ll just hope for the best, anyway, till we find out. If it’s Aunt Crete, I shall simply talk to her till she is brought to her senses, and make her understand that she’s got to go right home. I’ll tell her how she’s mortifying you, and spoiling your chances of a good match, perhaps——â€
“O ma!†giggled Luella in admiration.
“I’ll tell her she must tell Donald she’s got togo right home, that the sea air don’t agree with her one bit—it goes to her head or something like that; and then we’ll make him feel it wouldn’t be gallant in him not to take her home. That’s easy enough, if ’tis them.â€
“But ma, have you thought about your sprained ankle? How’ll they think you got over so quick? S’posing it shouldn’t be Aunt Crete.â€
“Well, I’ll tell her the swelling’s gone down, and all of a sudden something seemed to slip back into place again, and I’m all right.â€
This was while they were buttoning and hooking each other into their best and most elaborate garments for the peradventure that the people they were to meet might prove to be of patrician class.
They had been somewhat puzzled how to find their possible relatives after they were attired for the advance on the enemy, but consultation with the functionary in the office showed them that, whoever Miss Ward and Donald Grant might be, they surely were at present occupying the apartments on the second floor front.
For one strenuous moment after the elevator had left them before the door of the private parlor they had carefully surveyed each other, fasteninga stubborn hook here, putting up a stray rebellious lock there, patting a puff into subordination. Mrs. Burton was arrayed in an elaborate tucked and puffed and belaced lavender muslin whose laborious design had been attained through hours of the long winter evenings past. Luella wore what she considered her most “fetching†garment, a long, scant, high-waisted robe of fire-red crape, with nothing to relieve its glare, reflected in staring hues in her already much-burned nose and cheeks. Her hair had been in preparation all the afternoon, and looked as if it was carved in waves and puffs out of black walnut, so closely was it beset with that most noticeable of all invisible devices, an invisible net.