CHAPTER XXIIIA CAMERA’S CAPERS.
“Mary!” cried Jean, as she bounced into the kitchen, where the maid, a typical “child of Erin,” who worshipped the very ground Jean trod upon, stood at the sink paring her “taties” for the evening meal, “see my new camera; I’m going to take a picture with it, and I’ve got to go into your pot-closet to fix the plates.”
“A picter, is it? And will ye be afther takin’ a picter wid that schmall bit av a black box? How do ye do it at all, I do’ know.”
“Oh, I go into a dark closet and put a gelatine plate in the box, and then I go outdoors and take my picture.”
“A gilitin plate, is it? Thin, faith, ye’lltake ne’er a picter this day, for Oi’m jist afther usin’ the last schrap av gilitin in the house to make the wine jilly fer the dinner.”
“I don’t meanthatkind of gelatine; the kind I use is already prepared on little plates in this box, and I have to go in the dark closet to fix them.”
“Faith, I’d fix thim out here, thin, where ye can see what ye’re about. It’s dungeon dhark in the pot-closet.”
“That is exactly what I want, and,please, don’t come near it, or open the door while I’m in there, will you?”
“No, no; I’ll not come near ye. The minute I’ve done me taties it’s down in the laundry Oi’m goin’, an’ Oi’ll not bother ye at all; but here, take this schmall, little candle wid ye whan ye go in, fer it’s that dhark ye’ll not see yer hand forninst ye,” and she caught up a candle from the shelf.
“No, no! I don’twantany light; the darker it is the better.”
“It’s crackin’ yer head aff ye’ll be.”
“No, I sha’n’t,” said Jean, as she whisked into the closet and drew the door together just as Mary started down the back stairs to the laundry.
Had the closet been designed for an eel-pot it would have proved the most complete success, for getting into it was a very simple matter, whereas, gettingoutrequired considerable ingenuity. Absorbed in the one idea of getting the plates placed in the camera, Jean entirely forgot the peculiarities of the fastening upon the door. As she slammed it together every ray of light vanished, and she was instantly enveloped in an Egyptian darkness. Carefully opening her box, she drew from it one of the plates, touched it with her fingers to find which side was coated with the gelatine preparation, placed it in the camera and turned to leave the closet.
“Now, I’ll have a picture in just about two jiffs,” she said, and pushed against the door. To her surprise, it did not open. Anotherpush, with the same result. It then dawned upon her that the spring-bolt had fastened upon the outer side. Feeling carefully about in the pitch darkness, she laid her things upon the shelf and tried to find a way of getting out. But, push, shake and rattle as she might, it was useless; the door remained tightly fastened.
“Mary,” she called, “come and let me out, please.”
No response.
“M-a-r-y! I’m locked in; come let me out!”
“What in the whorld is the matter wid ye?” came from the foot of the stairs.
“I’m lockedinand can’t get out; come and open the door!”
“Och, worra! Don’t be callin’ to me not toopenthe door; didn’t Oi tell ye Oi wouldn’t come near ye, and Oiwon’t. It’s goin’ down to the bharn Oi am, and ye needn’t be for worritin’, at all, at all,” and receding footsteps proved Mary’s words only too true.
“Now, I’m in a pretty fix, am I not? Likeenough she won’t come back for twenty minutes, and here I’ve got to stay. Plague take the old bolt!”
What imp of mischief made Mary return to the laundry by the cellar-door, take up her basket of freshly laundered clothes, and, after carrying them up to Mrs. Rockwood’s bedroom, go on to her own in the third story to dress for the afternoon, must forever remain a mystery. But this she did, and, as Jean heard her go up the back stairs, beneath which she was securely fastened in the pot-closet, she thumped and pounded with renewed energy. But the only response was:
“No, no; not for the whorld, darlint, would Oi disthurbe ye and spoil yer purty picter.”
About an hour later Mrs. Rockwood, returning from her call, met Helen upon the front piazza.
“Has Jean got everything ready to take the pictures?” she asked, eagerly. “It is such a perfect day for it, and I am so anxious that Ican hardly wait. It seems too good to be true that we have really got cameras at last, doesn’t it?”
“It seems as though the fairies must have been aware of your great desire to have them, and so took matters into their own hands,” replied Mrs. Rockwood, as she unfastened the front door with her latch-key and held it open for Helen to enter.
As they entered the hall they were greeted with a series of muffled thumps and bangs.
“Idowish Mary would remember what I have so often told her about breaking her kindling upon the cellar floor,” she exclaimed.
Rattle, rattle! Bang, bang! and then a crash as though the roof were falling.
“What under the sun can be the matter!” exclaimed Mrs. Rockwood.
Just then Mary appeared at the head of the stairs.
“Why, Mary, what is all this noise?”
“Shure, it was comin’ down mesilf Oi was tosee. Saints presarve us, can there be thieves in the house, Oi do’ know!”
“Rather noisy thieves, I should think. Where is Miss Jean?”
“Out in the fields beyant, wid her bit av a camela takin’ her picter, Oi’m thinkin’. ’Twas there she said she’d be goin’ afther she came out of the pot-closet—saints have mercy! Could shegitout at all, at all?” and Mary tore down the stairs, with Mrs. Rockwood and Helen close at her heels. She reached the closet, flung open the door, and beheld a spectacle. Seated on the floor, in the midst of a scattered array of pots, kettles and frying-pans, her box of plates upset, her precious camera in her lap, and blissfully unconscious that the slide was open, sat Jean, a very picture of despair.
“Mighty man! And have ye been in here all this toim, an’ not to be smothered dead!” cried Mary.
“How could I be anywhereelse, I’d like to know?” said Jean, indignantly. “I called andcalled, but I couldn’t get you to let me out,” and, bouncing up, she scrabbled the plates back into their box, then caught up the camera to see if all was as it should be with that. As she jumped up the slide closed, and, quite unaware that it had ever been open, she announced to her nearly convulsed audience:
“Well, I’moutat last, and now I hope I can take a picture; come on, Helen,” little dreaming that the treacherous sunlight, which flashed through the hall window and straight into the pot-closet, had already printed a most perfect one on the plate.
A few moments later both she and Helen were out in the fields back of the house, and had snapped charming little scenes.
Bemoaning her unintentional trick, Mary went back to her work, while Mrs. Rockwood went up to her room to laugh heartily over the mishap, never suspecting that the funniest part would appear in the sequel.
A half hour later the girls came flying into her room to say, excitedly:
“AN’ HAVE YE BEEN IN THERE ALL THIS TIME?”
“AN’ HAVE YE BEEN IN THERE ALL THIS TIME?”
“We’ve taken them! We’ve taken them!”
“And I know they will be just lovely, for the sun shone right on the trees and the ruins. How I wish we could develop them; don’t you, Helen?”
“Yes, I’d like to know how, and, now that I have the camera, I shall get a developing outfit and learn; but let’s take these right over to Charlton’s and have him develop them for us.”
They started for the village to leave the plates to be developed, and waited with what patience they could for the following day, when the photographer promised to send them the proofs.
They came, and one at least was truly a marvel.
In the foreground of Jean’s was a pretty clump of fir-trees growing beside an old ruined stone wall, under which nestled a bunch of dry goldenrod. But the background! Did ever the maddest artist’s brain conceive of such? Clear and distinct, where sky should have been, stood—a frying-pan!
CHAPTER XXIVWHISPERS
March, with its winds and storms, slipped away as though glad to whisk such trying days off the calendar, and, ere the girls realized it, Easter vacation was upon them, and capricious April was playing the schoolgirl herself, with one day a smile and the next a frown. But, like the schoolgirl, her smiles were all the sunnier for the frowns.
It must indeed be a dull, prosy old heart which cannot respond to the soft beauty of early spring, and want to frisk and frolic for very sympathy with all the new life springing into existence all about it. And there were no dull or prosy ones at Sunny Bank.
For some time the girls had known that thiswould be Miss Howard’s last year with them; but now little whispers began to fly about, as little whispers have a trick of doing, that Miss Howard was about to enter another school, where she would be pupil instead of teacher, and there learn the sweetest lesson ever taught on this big earth—a lesson which says, “Not mine and thine, but ours, for ours is mine and thine;” and, while they rejoiced in her happiness, they were nearly inconsolable at the thought of losing her, for she had filled a very beautiful place in their lives—far more beautiful than they suspected. It was always Miss Howard who entered into all their little plans and pleasures, participated in their joys, and sympathized with their sorrows.
She was little more than a girl herself, yet possessed the strength of character sometimes wanting in a much older person, and by it set a beautiful example for her girls to follow. And they followed it unconsciously to themselves and to her, for never was there a more modestlittle body than Miss Howard, and had anyone hinted that she was a mighty balance-wheel to her fly-away girls, a source of encouragement to her timid ones, an inspiration to her ambitious ones, and an object of very sincere affection to all, she would probably have been the most surprised person in the school. Yet such was undoubtedly the fact, and it would have been a very wrong-headed girl, indeed, who was not ready to yield to her influence.
“If I felt criss-cross with all the world, I believe I’d have to smile back when Miss Howard smiled at me,” said Toinette, shortly after she became a pupil in the school. “Her eyes are just as soft as the little Alderney bossie’s, and her lips look sort of grieved if the girls look cross.”
And so the whispers grew louder and louder till just after the Easter holidays were over, and then all who loved her best learned that early in June wedding bells would ring and a very bonny bride would step forth from Sunny Bank,with several bonny bridesmaids leading the way, and one maid of honor to scatter the posies which were to be symbolical, as all hoped, of her future pathway through life.
And then arose the all-important question as to whom Miss Howard would choose for that great honor, and excitement ran high.
All the girls had a strong suspicion that it would be Toinette, although, to do her justice, Toinette herself did not suspect it. Still, Miss Howard had taken a keen interest in the girl ever since she entered the school, and felt strongly drawn toward her, being quick to see her good qualities, and to understand that the undesirable ones were very largely the result of unfortunate circumstances. So she had striven in her sweet and gracious way to help Toinette without words, and had been a strong support to Miss Preston.
As the warm spring days made wood and field to blossom, the girls spent a great deal of their time out of doors. Sunny Bank’s grounds werevery beautiful, and the adjacent field and woodland very enticing at that season. Basket-ball was a favorite source of amusement, and the lawn devoted to it as soft and smooth as velvet. So nearly every afternoon the team could be seen bounding about like so many marionettes, and if touseled hair and demoralized attire resulted, what did it matter? Rosy cheeks and ravenous appetites were excellent compensations.
It was the fifteenth of April, and Toinette’s birthday. Many a climb had the expressman’s horse taken up the long hill leading to Sunny Bank that morning, for, if Toinette had but few friends, she certainly had a very generous father, who meant that she should have her full share of birthday remembrances, and they kept coming thick and fast all day. With each came a funny note to say that he was sending still another package because he did not want her to have all her surprises in a lump; they would seem so much more if coming in installments. So they kept coming all day long, and by four o’clockher room looked like a fancy bazaar. Last of all to arrive was a large box upon which was printed in flaring scarlet letters: “Not to be opened till it is ten A. M. inBombay.”
The box stood in the hall when Miss Preston passed through the hall to dinner, and, unless suddenly stricken with ophthalmy, she could not fail to see the flaring notice. “Ah,” she said, softly, to herself, “you have a triple mission, you inanimate bit of the carpenter’s skill: first, to teach my girls a lesson in longitude and time, second, to mutely ask my permission for a frolic to-night, and, third, to suggest that when birthdays arrive it would be a most auspicious time for the “C. C. C.’s” to hold their revels, and that Diogenes’ tub, if not himself, would be welcome, so I had better act upon the hint and contribute my share. Thank you, sir,” and, with a funny little nod to the box, she went on to the dining-room.
“What is the joke, Miss Preston?” asked Cicely, as Miss Preston took her seat.
“Do you think I’m going to spoil it by revealing it so soon? No, indeed,” and she laughed softly.
When dinner was ended the girls flocked around the box and curiosity ran riot. “What does that mean, Miss Preston? Do tell us.”
“I have other matters of such importance on hand that I must deputize Miss Howard to unravel the mystery for you,” she said, as she slipped away to the upper hall where the telephone was placed, and a moment later the girls heard the bell jingle and a funny, one-sided conversation followed. “Hello, Central! 1305. Is this 1305? Send me the usual order. Yes, four kinds. Eight. Well packed. Be prompt.”
The porter carried the big box to Toinette’s room and removed the lid for her. Such an array! I’m not going to attempt to tell about it, but shall let every girl who has ever attended a chum’s birthday feast mention the articles of which that feast consisted, and then, after combiningthe entire list, they can form some idea of the contents of Toinette’s box.
“Fly, Cicely, and hunt up every C. C. C., and a dozen besides! We can never dispose of such a cartload of stuff in a week if we don’t have the entire school to help us,” cried Toinette, as she lifted one thing after another from the box.
There is a saying that “Ill news flies fast,” but, in my humble opinion, it is as a stage-coach beside the Empire State Express when compared to the fleetness of good news. So it did not take long to start this bit like an electric fluid through the school, and what sort of “Free Masonry” filled in details so successfully I know not.
CHAPTER XXV“WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP THIS TIME OF NIGHT?”
It so happened that of the ten resident teachers but three were at home that evening; the others having joined a theatre party going to town, and it would be midnight before they returned.
Those at home were Miss Preston, Miss Howard, and, unfortunately, Mrs. Stone. Of the first two mentioned the girls felt small apprehension, for they understood them pretty thoroughly, but Mrs. Stone was an obstacle not so easily surmounted, and it seemed to them that she was never more ubiquitous.
At nine-thirty Miss Preston had bade all good-night in an unusually solicitous manner,wishing each happy dreams. Miss Howard had also retired to her room promptly at the stroke of the clock, and everything worked most auspiciously excepting the tucking away of Mother Stone, and she positively refused to be tucked, but kept prowling about like a lost spirit, till Ruth said, in desperation: “If she doesn’t get settled down pretty soon I’ll do something desperate; see if I don’t.”
From room to room she went, popping her head in at one to ask if there was anything she could do for this girl, listening at the next door for sounds of insomnia, creeping stealthily on through the corridors to learn if any girl who ought to be en route for Sleepy Town had by chance missed her way.
She had made her way as far as the lower end of the hall, where on one side the stairs leading to the third story joined it, and on the other a door opened into the bath-room, when a rustle at the head of the stairs caused her to glance quickly in that direction; but it was toodark for her to see anything at the top of them. She paused to listen, and her sharp ears detected the sound again. That was sufficient. Up she flew and came plump upon Lou Cornwall, who had not had time to fly. Lou was stout and did not move quickly, and was fair prey for Mrs. Stone, who was as thin as a match, and managed to glide about like a wraith.
Lou was arrayed in her bath-robe, and had her cap and mask in her hand. Quickly concealing them behind her lest Mrs. Stone’s sharp eyes should discover them even in the dark, she stood stock still waiting developments. Mrs. Stone stooped from her towering height of five feet nine to peer into the face of the plump little figure huddled in the corner. “How you startled me,” she said. “Why are you standing here when everyone else is in bed, and what are you doing up this time of night?”
“I had to get up, Mrs. Stone.”
“Why, may I enquire?”
“I am going to the bath-room.”
“Then, why in the world don’t yougoand not stand huddled up here as though you were bent on some mischief? It is no wonder that we suspect you when you take such extraordinary ways of doing perfectly simple things. Go on at once, and, if you have been hesitating because you are timid, I’ll wait here till you return,” and down she planted herself upon the top step to mount guard.
Groaning inwardly, away went Lou, muttering: “If I don’t keep you perched there till you nearly freeze, my name isn’t Lou Cornwall!”
And keep her she did, till Mrs. Stone had another trouble added to her many, for she began to fear that Lou had been taken ill, and went to the bath-room door to speak to her. Finding that she could not hold out any longer, out she came, and, after receiving some very emphatic admonitions from Mrs. Stone, crept away to her room disgusted with herself, the world at large, and Mrs. Stone in particular.
Meantime, the other girls began to suspect that Lou had fallen into ambush, and sent out a scout to reconnoiter, and it was not many seconds before the scout came scuttling back with the alarming information that the enemy was close at hand; in fact, that she was even now coming upon them in force, for, when Mother Stone found that Lou did not come from the bath-room as promptly as she thought she should, all her suspicions were instantly aroused, and she was keen to make discoveries.
The girls had planned to meet in Toinette’s room, and creep from there to the old laundry as soon as all were assembled. About a dozen were already there, but, when the scout returned with such dire tidings, they decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and all made haste to get back to their rooms ere the enemy appeared. But, alack-a-day! that enemy could flit about in a surprisingly lively manner, and, ere some of them had reached safety behind their own doors, she came in view. To get totheir rooms now was out of the question, so, making a virtue of necessity, they all slipped into a large closet used by the housemaids for their brooms, etc.
Whether it was from a wholesome fear that Miss Preston would be very apt to criticize a too pronounced vigilance that Mrs. Stone refrained from opening the girls’ doors, but contented herself with simply listening, I cannot say, but if she heard no sound within she always passed on and left them to their innocent (?) slumbers. So on she went from one room to another, but, luckily, the alarm had gone before, and at each room darkness and profound silence prevailed. Satisfied that “all was well,” she murmured something about, “It is always well to be upon the alert, for once the girls understand that someone is sure to detect the first signs of mischief, they are far less liable to carry it to excess,” she set off for her own room. In passing by the housemaid’s door she saw that it was not tightly closed and locked, as was the custom at night,and, with a joyous chuckle at her own astuteness, she pounced upon it, locked the door, and withdrawing the key sailed triumphantly to her room, where, serene in her sense of well-doing, she fell as sound asleep as her nature permitted.
Meantime, how fared it with the mice in the trap? When the key was turned in the door, and they were made prisoners, nothing but the pitch darkness which enveloped them as a garment prevented each girl’s face from plainly announcing to her neighbor: “Here is a pretty kettle of fish!” There were five in the closet: Ruth, Edith, Pauline, May and Marie. Luckily, a resourceful party. When all sound from the hall had ceased, Ruth gave just one howl, and then jumped up and down three times as hard as she could jump, by way of giving vent to her state of mind. Fortunately, the door was a heavy one and the sound did not reach Mother Stone’s ears.
“You crazy thing!” exclaimed Edith, “nextthing you know you will have her after us again.”
“Suppose we do; we’ve got to get out somehow, haven’t we?”
“Yes, but she is the last one in the world we want to let us out. What a fix! If the girls only knew of it, they would come and let us out.”
“How could they when she has the key, I’d like to know?”
Edith groaned: “I never thought of that plagued old key. Bother take her and it, too! Why couldn’t she have gone to bed just as everybody else did, and have minded her own business, too.”
“That was exactly what she thought she was doing,” laughed May.
“It’s all very well to laugh, buthoware we to get down to the laundry, I’d like to know; or the girls ever find out where we are?”
While all this talking had been going on, little Marie, the liveliest, slightest, most quick-wittedgirl in the school, had been doing a lot of thinking, and now turned to the others and said:
“Do you see that scrap of a window up there?”
“Yes, we see it, but it might as well be a rat-hole, for all the good it will do us; nothing but a rat could crawl through it!”
“Don’t be too sure,” answered Marie, with a knowing laugh. “I can get through a pretty small space when occasion demands, and, if I’m not much mistaken, the demand is very urgent just at this moment.”
“How under the sun can you reach it, even if you can get through it after you’ve reached it?”
“What good have you derived from your gymnastic training this winter, I’d like to know, if you have to ask me that?” demanded Marie.
The window was one of those odd little affairs one sometimes sees built in houses, perhapssimply to excite curiosity and make one wonder why they were ever built at all, for they do not seem to be of the slightest use. The one in question was situated high up in the closet, and had probably been put there for ventilating purposes, if anyone ever felt inclined to get a step-ladder and clamber up to open it. It was shaped like a segment of a circle, was only about eighteen inches high at the widest part, and fastened at the top with a bolt. Getting at it in broad daylight would not have been an easy matter, and now, with only the light of the moon shining through it, it seemed an impossibility.
CHAPTER XXVI“LOVE (AND SCHOOLGIRLS) LAUGH AT LOCKSMITHS”
“Here, I’m going to take command of affairs, since no one else seems inclined to,” cried Marie. “May, you are the strongest girl here; just give me a shoulder, will you?”
“What shall I do?”
“Stand close to the wall underneath the window, and let me get on your shoulder; it may hurt a bit, but we can’t stay stived up in here all night. Lend a hand, Ruth, and boost me up.”
A step-ladder of knees and arms was formed, and up scrambled Marie as nimbly as a squirrel. Then another obstacle confronted her. Thewindow had probably never been opened since it was built, and, having never been called upon to do its share in the economy of that household, was disinclined to begin now. Marie’s slender fingers were dented and pinched in vain; that window remained obdurate.
“For mercy sake come down and give the old thing up! My shoulder is crushed flat,” said May.
“Wait just one second longer, and I’ll have it; see if I don’t. Ruth, hand me that stair-brush, please.”
Ruth gave her the brush, and, saying to May: “Now, brace yourself for a mighty push,” she used the handle as a lever, gave a vigorous jerk, when away went bolt, window, Marie and all. Down she came with a thud, but, luckily, on a pile of sweeping cloths, which saved her from harm.
Scrabbling up, she cried: “Never mind, I’m not hurt a bit; now boost me up again, and let me see what is outside.”
She was promptly lifted up, and, poking her saucy head out into the moonlight, drew in long whiffs of the sweet night air, which was wonderfully refreshing after the stuffy closet.
“The shed is about ten feet below, girls. If I had anything to lower myself down with I could easily reach it; I’m almost afraid to let myself drop, the shed slopes so.”
“Hang fast a second while Ruth and I tie the sweeping-cloths together,” cried May, and quickly catching up the calico covers they began to tie them together.
“See that you tie them tightly,” warned Marie. “I’ve had one bump already, and I don’t want another.”
The cloths were soon ready, and one end handed to her. She fastened it securely about her waist, and, warning the others to hang on for dear life, she began to crawl through the narrow opening.
“My goodness, she is just like a monkey,” said Pauline. “I never could have done it in theworld,” a most superfluous assertion, as no one in the world would ever have suspected her of being able to.
Away went Marie, vanishing bit by bit from their sight till only her laughing black eyes, with the soft dark hair above them, were visible in the moonlight. The girls lowered away slowly, and presently felt the strain upon the cloths relax.
“She’s on the shed! Good!” said Edith, “and now she’ll have us out in less than jig time.”
But “many’s the slip twixt the—lip and the birthday box,” and the girls began to suspect Marie of treachery to the cause ere they again heard her voice.
“AWAY WENT MARIE, VANISHING BIT BY BIT.”
“AWAY WENT MARIE, VANISHING BIT BY BIT.”
Meantime, how fared it with her? Once upon the shed all seemed plain sailing, but the shed was somewhat like the mountains Moses climbed so wearily; it gave her a glimpse of the promised land without permitting her to enter it. The ground was fully sixteen feet below her, and to reach it without some means other than her own nimble legs was obviously impossible. The shed was only a small one built out over the kitchen, but just beyond, with perhaps five feet dividing them, was the end of the piazza roof, and if she could only reach that she could let herself down to the ground by the thick vines growing upon it. But those five feet intervening looked a perfect gulf, and how to get over them was a poser. Jump it she dared not; step it she could not. It began to look as though she must signal to the girls in the closet to haul in their big fish, when she chanced to spy something sticking up through the honeysuckle vines. Crawling carefully down to the edge of the shed, she peered over, and saw the ends of the gardener’s ladder. Pauline had not made a mistake when she called her a monkey, for in just one second she was at the bottom of that ladder.
“Now I’m all right, and will soon have the girls free,” and off she scurried to the side ofthe house upon which Toinette’s room was situated. Gathering up a handful of soft earth she threw it against the window, but with no result. Then a second one followed. Had she but known it, Toinette and her revellers had long ago given them up, and were now down in the old laundry spreading forth their array of goodies. After wasting considerable time, Marie suddenly bethought her of the above fact, and instantly skipped off to that Mecca.
There was not a ray of light visible, but, happily, sight is not the only sense with which we are endowed, and Marie’s ears were as keen as her eyes. Giving the three signal taps upon one of the tightly closed window-blinds, she waited a reply. But the girls were not expecting taps from that quarter, and at once became suspicious. But precious moments were fleeing, and Marie was becoming desperate, so, flinging prudence to the winds, she gave three sounding bangs upon that window, and called out:
“If you don’t open this window and let mein I’ll set Mother Stone on your track, sure as you live!”
Open flew the window, and a moment later Marie was relating her experiences to them. Then came the question of rescuing the others. Not an easy one to answer. But Marie had gone so far, and, being a very resourceful little body, had no notion of giving up yet, and saying to the revellers: “I’m going to let those girls out if I have to take the door down to do it,” off she flitted, as quickly and silently as a butterfly. In less time than it takes to tell it she stood outside their prison, and saying, encouragingly: “Don’t give up, girls; I’ll soon have you out,” she slipped into the sewing-room opposite, and emerged a second later with the little oil-can and screw-driver from the machine drawer.
“For gracious sake, whatareyou going to do?” whispered Cicely, who had come with her to help if possible.
“Something I once saw a carpenter at our house do, if I can. Sh! Don’t make anynoise,” and, reaching up to the top hinge, Marie dropped a few drops of oil from her can upon it, and then treated the lower one in the same manner. The hinges were what are known as “fish hinges,” the door being held in place by a small iron peg slipped into the sockets of the hinge. After she had oiled them, she placed her screw-driver under the knob of the peg, when, lo! up it slid as easily as could be, and when both had been carefully slid out of place, nothing prevented the door from being softly drawn away from the hinges, swung outward, and if it did not open from left to right, as it had been intended to open, it was quite as easy to walk through it when it opened from right to left. To slip it back into place, when five giggling girls had escaped, was equally easy, and no one would ever have suspected the skillful bit of mechanical engineering that had taken place under their very noses at ten-thirty that night.
CHAPTER XXVIIARIADNE’S CLUE
The manner in which those liberated girls skipped down to the laundry was certainly not snail-like. They had nearly reached it when Ruth’s feet became entangled in a piece of string, and, stooping down to loosen it, she discovered a slip of paper fastened to the end, and a large pin which had evidently stuck it fast to the door-casing. No doubt some of the girls had brushed against it in their hurry-scurry to reach the laundry, and, but for the ill wind which blew five of them into the housemaid’s closet, this significant scrap of paper would never have been discovered. The candle they carried was brought to bear upon it, and they read the following words:
In ancient days, so the stories say,
One Theseus found a remarkable way
Of reaching a point he wished to gain,
And down to posterity came his fame.
So, perhaps, posterity may also do well
To follow a “clue,” but never to tell
Just what they found at the further end,
Lest a rule should break instead of bend.
“What can it mean? Where does it lead to?” were the questions eagerly whispered.
“Come on, and let’s find out,” was Ruth’s practical remark, and she began to wind up the string. There seemed no end to it, and it led them through the corridor, out of that into the kitchen, then out to a small store-room built beneath the kitchen porch. Here the end was tied to a very suggestive-looking tub.
Had Diogenes succeeded in discovering an honest man he could not have felt greater satisfaction than these girls felt at the sight of that modest little oval tub, with its sawdust covering; and the way in which it was pounced upon,and borne in triumph to the laundry, brings my story of that night’s revels to a climax, and no more need be told.
When the twelve o’clock train whistled it was the signal for the revels to end, and, ere the carriages which were to meet the theatre-goers could bring them up the hill, Sunny Bank was as quiet and peaceful as though all its inmates had been dreaming for hours.
The weather had become beautifully soft and balmy for the middle of April, and the girls were able to sit out of doors, and do many of the things they had not hoped to do till May should burgeon and bloom.
A few days after the frolic Toinette was sitting in one of the pretty little summer-houses, of which there were several dotted about the grounds, when Miss Howard came in and took her seat beside her.
“You have been playing at hide-and-seek with me without knowing it,” she said, “for I have been searching for you everywhere, andonly discovered you here by the glint of the sunshine upon your hair.”
“Did you want me, Miss Howard? I’m sorry you had to hunt for me,” answered Toinette. “What can I do for you?”
“Give me some wise advice,” said Miss Howard, smiling.
“Igive you advice!” exclaimed Toinette.
“Yes; don’t you think you can?”
“I shall have to know what it is about before I dare say yes or no, Miss Howard.”
“You know that I am going to leave you in a few weeks, dear, and I want my leave-taking to be closely identified with my girls, whom I have learned to love so dearly, and whom, I think, love me as well as I love them. I have spent many happy years in this school, first as pupil and then as teacher, and it has been a very dear home to me. Now I am going away from it forever, and though the future looks very enticing, and I have every reason to believe that it will be happy, still I cannot helpfeeling sad at the thought of leaving the old life behind. These are serious confidences for me to burden you with, Toinette, but you have crept into a very warm corner of my heart since you became a pupil here, and I know that there is a wise little head upon these shoulders,” said Miss Howard, as she placed her hand on Toinette’s shoulder.
The girl reached up, and drawing the hand close to her cheek held it there, but did not speak.
“So now,” continued Miss Howard, “I am going to ask you to help my outgoing from this happy home to be a pleasant one, by being my maid of honor when the time comes; will you, dear?”
“You wantmeto be the maid of honor, Miss Howard? You don’t truly mean it? There are so many other girls whom you have known so much longer, and whom you must love better than you do me; although I don’t believe theycanloveyouany better than I do,” said Toinette, naively.
“That is just it, dear. I do love them all, and am sure that they are very fond of me. But in your case it is just a little different. All these girls have pleasant homes, and many loved ones in them who plan for their happiness, and to whom they will go directly vacation begins. For many years you, like myself, have had no home but the one a school offered, and which, unlike mine, was sometimes not as happy a home as it might have been, I fear. So, you see, we have, in one way, had a bond of sympathy between us even before we knew it to be so. And now we have still another, for when we leave here in June we shall each go to our own dear home; you to one your father shall make for you, I to the one my husband will provide for me.”
A soft, pretty color had crept over Miss Howard’s face as she spoke, and a very tender look came into her beautiful eyes. Truly, she was carrying something very sweet and holy to the one who was to bear that name.
“So we shall step out into the new life together, shall we not, Toinette, and each will be the sweeter for our having done so?” asked Miss Howard.
“It is too lovely even to think about, Miss Howard. I don’t know how to make you understand how proud and happy it makes me to think that you chose me from among all the others, and I hope they will not feel that you should not have done so. Do you think they will mind?”
“On the contrary, they are delighted with my choice, for I told them my reasons, as I have told them to you, and they see it in the same light that I see it.”
“Then I shall be the happiest girl in Montcliff,” cried Toinette.
“No,nextto the happiest,” said Miss Howard, laughing softly.
“Well, I shall be the happiest inmyway, and you inyours,” and Toinette wagged herhead as though it would be of no use for Miss Howard to try to make her concedethatpoint.
“And now let us plan our maid of honor’s toilet, and also what our six bridesmaids must wear. It was upon that important question I wished your advice, and, now that you know, do you feel qualified to give it?”
“Oh, how lovely!” cried Toinette. “Why, Miss Howard, it is almost like planning for my own wedding, and you are too sweet for anything to let me.”