The bad weather continued. So did the illness of Miss Greatorex and Molly Breckenridge. Neither of them left their stateroom again till that day and another night had passed and the “Prince” came to her mooring in Yarmouth harbor.
Both Mrs. Hungerford and Dorothy spent much of their time with one or other patient, yet were often alone together on deck or in the music-room and became very well acquainted, indeed, during their hours of loneliness. From the girl Auntie Lu drew many details of her short life, and was especially interested when she found that Mrs. Betty Calvert was a friend of them both; exclaiming:
“Why, my dear, I’ve known Mrs. Betty Calvert all my life! She was my mother’s dearest correspondent. They had been girls together, though Mrs. Calvert was older than mother. Their homes were near each other in Maryland; and—why, the Calverts, or Somersets, were as intimate as it is possible for families to be with our folks—the Breckenridges! This is most interesting. Most certainly interesting. I must tell my brother. Schuyler is so loyal to all our old Marylanders; hethinks there are no people like them anywhere, though for my part I find human nature’s pretty much the same all the world over.”
“Yes, Mrs. Hungerford, I’ve heard Mrs. Calvert say that there was no gentleman so fine as a southern one. Mr. Seth laughs at her and says that’s a ‘hobby,’ and she’s ‘mistaken.’ He says ‘gentlemen don’t grow any better on one soil than another,’ but are ‘indigenous to the whole United States,’ though Mr. Winters is a Marylander himself.” Then she naïvely added in explanation, and in a little vanity about her botanical lore: “‘Indigenous’ means, maybe you don’t know, a plant that belongs to, is a native of, some particular region. Mr. Seth taught me and Father John. They both know lots about botany, though father hasn’t lived in the country as long as our ‘Learned Blacksmith,’ who does know, seems if, all there is worth knowing in this world. For a man, I mean.”
Aunt Lucretia smiled and nodded, but in an absent sort of manner as if she had scarcely heard what Dorothy had said. Then as the girl rose, remarking: “I’ll go now and sit a while with Molly if she’s awake. Funny! She says she feels all right as long as she lies down and so horrid when she tries to get up and dress;” the lady’s gaze followed her little figure with a keenly critical interest. Also, she eagerly greeted the Judge, who now came to her, with the ambiguous exclamation:
“Schuyler Breckenridge, the most marvellous thing! I’ve discovered—or I believe I have—what that remarkable likeness is which has so perplexed me. Blood always tells, always crops out!”
“Exactly. Especially in cases like this. Having nothing else to do I’ve tried whittling—with this result. Tie it up, Lu, and explain yourself—if you can,” he answered, whimsically holding out a finger he had cut and that was slightly bleeding.
“Oh! you poor dear!”
“Yes. Am I not! Wait. Here’s a bit of court-plaster. Forgot I had it or wouldn’t have troubled you. Now, talk ahead.”
“Schuyler, a man like you shouldn’t trifle with edged tools. You have no gift for anything but—lawing. It wouldn’t be any laughing matter if you should develop blood-poison—”
“It certainly would not, and as I like to laugh I shan’t do it. Now, what is this marvellous thing you’ve discovered, please? I’m getting tired of fog, no newspapers, and chess with a stranger; so welcome even a woman’s gossip with delight!”
She paid no heed to his chaffing but began:
“I believe I know who that Dorothy’s parents were. I’m as positive as if I’d been told; and I’m perfectly amazed at Mrs. Betty Calvert. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Apparently—to you. Not yet to me. I’ve understood that two and two makes four; but how your ‘belief’ and poor old Betty Calvert make sensible connection I fail to comprehend. I await instruction.”
“Stop jesting and you shall have it. Then tellme if I haven’t given you better food for thought than you’d find in to-day’s paper—if you could get it here at sea.”
Thereupon, hitching her chair a little nearer to her brother’s and glancing about to see no stranger overheard, the lady began a low toned conversation with him. This proved, as she had foretold, far more entertaining than the day’s news; and when it was over, when there was nothing more to be said, he rose, pulled his traveling cap over his eyes, thrust his hands into his capacious pockets and walked away “to think it over.” Adding, as he left:
“Well, if you’re right everything is wrong. And if you’re wrong everything’s right.”
Over which eminent legal opinion Mrs. Hungerford smiled, reflecting:
“He’s convinced. There’s nobody I know so well versed in Maryland genealogy as Schuyler Breckenridge. It’s been his pastime so long he’ll be keen on this scent till he proves it false or true. And if it is true—what a shame, what a shame! That horrid, lonely old woman to take such an outrageous course. Poor, dear, sweet little Dorothy!”
The result to Dorothy of this conversation was a greater kindness than ever on the part of Molly’s people; who now seemed to take her into their hearts as if she were of kin to them. She often found them looking at her searchingly, trying to trace that “likeness” which one of them had discovered.But no word of what was in their minds was said to her. She was merely invited to call Mrs. Hungerford “Aunt” as she was to call the Judge “Uncle.”
So despite the dullness of the fog, which prevented her seeing much of the ocean, the day passed very well. When she was asked if she could play and to give her new friends a little music, she took the violin from its shelf and gave them her simple best. To please them who were so kind to her was a delight to herself and her readiness to oblige was instantly construed by Aunt Lucretia as a fresh proof of her “discovery.”
“Only a well-born child has that easy grace of manner, Schuyler, as you must often have observed,” she remarked with pleased conviction.
To which he replied by warning:
“Take care you don’t build up a romance that will fall to pieces like a house of cards at the first breath of reality. But as to birth, be it high or low, Dorothy is a most winning little maid and I’m thankful to have her along with us on our holiday. Thankful, also, that impulsive Molly chose just such an unselfish, ingenuous girl for her ‘chum.’ My poor little lass! Her first ocean voyage will be a dreary memory for her!”
“Oh! not so bad. She’s perfectly comfortable when she lies still. She has plenty of attention and sleeps a deal. She’s not losing much fun out here in this weather and will be no more glad to step onto solid land again than I shall. Except that,but for this enforced close companionship with little Dorothy I might not have thought out her story as I have.”
“There you go again! Well, the suggestion haunts me, too. I’ll investigate promptly; and—what I shall do after that I haven’t yet decided. I hate a meddler and am not anxious to become one. Heigho! No matter how hard a tired man tries to mind his own business he can’t do it! Here comes that young Melvin Cook, and he’s a lad with a pedigree, let me tell you, as long as any oldest Marylander of all. He and I have a bit of business to discuss, so I’ll walk the deck with him awhile. Dorothy, I suppose, will sleep in her own stateroom to-night, since Miss Greatorex is comfortable. Good night, and sleep well.”
The deserted deck and the quiet gloom were a forcible contrast to the radiance and hilarity of the evening before, so that Mrs. Hungerford did not linger long after the Judge had left her, to pace up and down in earnest conversation with the “Bashful Bugler.” Yet her thought was now upon the lad and his name which her brother had mentioned.
“Cook! Cook, from Yarmouth. Why, that’s the same as that quaint old fellow brother took into his private office. He came from Nova Scotia, too, and called himself a typical Bluenose. Feared he was liable to consumption and left home for our milder climate. Wonder if he is a relative of the blond bugler! After all, as Molly so often exclaims, ‘what a little bit o’ world it is! Everybodyyou know turning up everywhere you go!’ Quite a keen observer is my flighty little niece, in spite of all her nonsense; and bless her heart! I must go and see how she is and send small nurse Dorothy to her own slumbers.”
So she too walked forward, and was seen no more till the grating sounds and the shouted orders told that the good ship “Prince” was docked and her goodly company had reached that safe “haven where they would be.”
Then as if by magic the decks filled with a merry company, even those who had suffered most from seasickness the gayest of all.
“So good to go ashore! Too early for breakfast? Of course; but I’ll take a walk on dry—or fog-wet ground before I take mine!” said the gentleman who had been first to succumb to the “fog swell,” and stepped down the ladder, whistling like a happy lad.
Miss Greatorex and Molly emerged from their staterooms a little pallid, rather shaky on their feet, but quite as happy as their neighbors. Not the less pleased, either, because the Judge promptly announced:
“We’ll not bother for breakfast here. Some of us don’t remember the ‘Prince’s’ dining-room with great affection, eh?” and he playfully pinched Molly’s wan cheek. “We’re going to stop in Yarmouth for a few days, and the hotel carriage will take the rest of you up to it at once. You’ll find your rooms all ready for you. I’ll see to our luggageand have that sent up, then follow in time to join you at table. All right, everybody? All your small belongings in hand? Then driver, pass on.”
Already the fog was lifting, and the urbane old man upon the box leaned down and informed his fares:
“Going to be a fine day, ladies. You’ll see Ya’mouth at her purtiest. Ever been here before, any of you?”
Miss Greatorex’s propriety began to return. A sure sign, Mrs. Hungerford thought, that she was feeling better; and she watched in secret amusement the sudden stiffening of the angular figure and the compression of the thin lips as the “instructress” looked fixedly out of the carriage window and vouchsafed no other reply.
But Aunt Lu always adapted herself to the habits of any country of the many she had visited and replied, with an eagerness that was half-mischievous and for Miss Isobel’s benefit:
“No, indeed! and we’re anxious to see and learn everything new. So please point out anything of note, and thank you.”
“Hmm. I should suppose there could be nothing ‘of note’ in a place like this,” murmured Miss Isobel, severely, as she scornfully observed the dingy streets and dwellings of that neighborhood.
But the hackman was gratified by Mrs. Hungerford’s interest and a chance for his own garrulity, and promptly informed them:
“’Tain’t never fair to judge no town by its water-front.Course not. Stands to reason that shipyards and docks and sailorses’ saloons ain’t laid out for beauty. But just you wait till we get up the hill a speck and then you’ll see somethin’ worth seein’. True. There ain’t a nicer town in the whole Province o’ Novy Scoshy ’an Ya’mouth is. Now we’re a gettin’.Now!See there?”
“Ah! how lovely!” “Oh! Auntie Lu!” “Oh! my heart, my heart! If only darling Father John could see that hedge? What is it, Auntie Lu, can you tell?” cried Dorothy in rapture; for, indeed, the hedges of this old town by the sea are famous everywhere the name of Yarmouth is heard.
The driver didn’t wait for Mrs. Hungerford to reply, even if she could have done so. He received every question and exclamation as personal and proudly answered:
“Ha’tho’n, them are, this side. Then yonder is spruce. And our gardens! If you women-folks love posies as most females does, you’d ought to be here a spell later. Roses ain’t out yet but cherries is in flower.”
“Roses not in bloom? Why, they’re past it with us!” responded Auntie Lu, surprised.
“Hmm, ma’am. And where might that be, if I c’n make so bold?”
“The vicinity of New York, I was recalling.”
“Hmm. Exactly. A poor kind of country, New York is, even though they do call it the ‘Empire State’ and try to bolster up its failin’s with a lot of fine talk. Now our Province o’ Novy Scoshy, and thisYa’mouth, don’t need to do no talkin’. All’s necessary for us and them is just to—BE! Once a feller comes and gets a good square look at us—no water-front way—” he interpolated, with a shrewd glance toward Miss Isobel’s averted face and an absurd wink to Mrs. Hungerford—“he just sets right down and quits talkin’ of his own places. Fact. I’ve lived here all my life and that’s the reason I know it.”
The man’s good nature and self-satisfaction were vastly amusing to Aunt Lucretia, who ignored what seemed impertinence to the more formal Miss Greatorex, while the former inwardly delighted in this to her “new type” of liveryman, and was already anticipating the Judge’s entertainment when the story of this ride was told him.
But Molly waxed indignant over his disparagement of her native land and exclaimed:
“I wish you’d not talk that way! We’re Americans. I don’t like it!”
“American, be you? So’m I.”
“Oh! well. Course it’s all America, but I mean we’re from—from the States,” as she chanced to recall an expression she had heard.
“From the States, hey? So be I.”
“Yet you say you’ve lived here all your life. If you hadn’t you’d have been more—more liberal—like travel makes people. If you’d once seen New York you wouldn’t think that little Yarmouth was so mighty pretty. A right smart you know about it, anyway!”
“Huh! Gid-dap!” was the scornful rejoinder, as Jehu whirled about on his seat and touched his team to a gallop.
Mrs. Hungerford gave Molly a warning tap, though she was inwardly pleased to find the child so far recovered as to take an interest in defending her own home.
It was rather startling to have an ensuing silence broken by the old driver’s facing about once more and declaring with great glee:
“You ain’t no New Yorker, so you needn’t be touchy about that little village. You’re from down south.”
“How do you know?”
“Yorkers don’t say ‘mighty pretty’ and ‘right smart,’ as the Johnny Rebs do. I know. I’ve druv a power of both lots. As for me, I’m a Yankee, straight descent. My forbear, Sealed Waters, was one the first settlers here. A Yankee I claim to be, and the ‘wa’’ ain’t over yet, ’pears like. Ha, ha, ha!”
His mirth was contagious and they all joined in it; even Miss Greatorex emitting a faint little cackle, which was all her dignity permitted. Also, by that time the carriage had been halted before a fine hotel, into which other passengers from their steamer were already passing; and they were duly helped to alight and enter, their loquacious jehu calmly extending his card with his name and number and, after a most business-like fashion, requesting their patronage during the rest of their stay.
“Show you the purtiest little town in the world, and’ll live to hear you admit it, Ma’am. Thank you, ma’am, and good-day to you.”
The Judge had secured their rooms long in advance of their arrival, and it was well that he had. The Province had come greatly to the fore as a summer pleasure ground and less thoughtful travelers did not always obtain such quarters as they preferred.
“Oh! this is fine!” exclaimed Mrs. Hungerford, as she entered her chamber with its neat appointments and refreshing bath. But Miss Greatorex was not enthusiastic. She was disappointed in the inn as she had been in the steamer, having anticipated something much larger and finer. The exaggerated term of “palatial,” which the proprietors had attached to both, had deceived her and it was no great comfort to have her companion explain:
“Of course, one can’t find Broadway hostelries nor European ‘liners’ in this part of the world; but brother has often stayed in this house and knows it well. There is a larger, newer hotel, but he likes this little inn. The fare is excellent, the place is safe and quiet, and the landlord becomes your actual host. That’s the charm of the Canadians; they are all so simple and so courteous. Try and ignore the disadvantages, dear Miss Isobel, and get all the fun out of our trip you can. If you’d seen some of the places I’ve slept in you’d think this is really ‘palatial.’”
The girls were out of hearing and Mrs. Hungerfordfelt herself justified in thus much of admonition to her traveling mate, whose ideas had been too highly raised by the circulars and descriptions she had read. Fortunately, Miss Greatorex was so thankful to be once more on land that she really tried to forget minor annoyances and to look upon whatever happened as so much further “education.” Her little notebook was promptly put to use and she filled several pages with memoranda of the old seaport which she had so despised at first and found so historically instructive afterward. Indeed, as Molly declared:
“You’ll have to buy a good many books to hold all you want to write, even in that fine hand, dear Miss Greatorex; and what a lot of things you’ll have to tell the girls at our ‘twilight talks!’”
Nor could any inexperienced traveler have found better companions than Judge Breckenridge and his sister. They were so simple, so friendly, and such keen observers. Everywhere they went they met and mingled with the people exactly as if they were old and familiar friends; and in the gentleman’s case this was quite true. He had been in the Province many times, as has been said, and he had the happy gift of a good andwillingmemory. He never forgot an acquaintance nor recalled one unkindly, and it surprised even Mrs. Hungerford to see how many faces brightened at his approach and how often the greeting came: “Welcome, welcome, friend!”
“Why, Judge, you back again? Well, I’m certainglad to see you? ‘Tourists’ like you are the sort we welcome heartiest to Ya’mouth. Fact, ain’t it? The more folks know, the more they’ve traveled, the more they find to admire and enjoy even in such a place as this!” cried one old seaman, whom they met on their morning walk.
For having enjoyed a most excellent breakfast and the sun now shining brilliantly, they set out for a stroll through the pretty streets and past the charming gardens of the town; and finally brought up at the postoffice where there were letters for everybody, even for Dorothy.
Hers was from Jim Barlow, and full of news of the mountain and old friends there; saying, also, that he had been invited to join his tutor, the Rev. Mr. Sterling, who was sometimes called the “tramping parson,” on a walking tour through the northern part of the Empire State. It was overflowing with enthusiasm over the places he would visit and the wonderful “good luck” which had so changed the life of the truck-farm lad; “and I mean to make the whole ‘tramp’ a part of my education. I tell you, Dolly girl, if there’s much gets past me without my seeing and knowing it, it’ll be when I’m asleep. Mr. Sterling’s a geologist, and likes to take his vacation this way, so’s he can find new stones, or hammer old ones to his heart’s content.
“Whilst he’s a hammering I’ll be hunting things in the woods. I mean to make a regular list of every bird I see, and every animal, and study all their little habits and tricks. I’ll carry some oldnewspapers and a book, too, so that if I come across any new kind of flower or plant I’ll press it for you. That way my vacation’ll be considerable of a help to you too.
“Try and learn all you can, Dorothy child, whilst you have the chance. There’s nothing so perfectly grand in all this world as learning things. I’ve noticed you were getting a little flighty, along back, and setting more store by your clothes than you used to, or that a girl who’ll have to teach for her living had ought to. Needn’t get mad with me for reminding you. I can write it easier than I could say it to your face, some way; and amongst all the good times you’re having don’t forget to write to me once in a while, for we’ve been so like brother and sister this long time that I want to hear. So no more at present from your affectionate
“James Barlow.
“P. S.—I had a letter from Mrs. Cecil Somerset-Calvert. She wrote I was to call to Deerhurst and get Peter and Ponce, her two Great Danes, and take them with me on my tour. She’d already written to Mr. Sterling, because she knew he was a dog-lover, and he was pleased to have them on the trip. Good-by.
“Jim.”
“Well, this changes our plans somewhat,” remarked the Judge, looking up from one of his letters, with an expression of some disappointment. They had all paused outside the postoffice building to hastily scan their news, and now grouped abouthim in interest, as Mrs. Hungerford rather anxiously asked:
“Why, Schuyler, what’s happened?”
“Oh! nothing unpleasant. Not at all. Only this is from Ihrie, and the boys will be on hand earlier than expected. So, to get around to all the places we want to see and yet be at our rendezvous in time we’ll have to cut our stay here short. I wouldn’t like to fail the boys.”
“Not on any account!” exclaimed Aunt Lu, merrily; and then explaining to Miss Greatorex: “Let me tell you, Miss Isobel, that these ‘boys’ range anywhere from fifty to seventy-five years in age! and that one of them is a college president, another a world-famous surgeon, and the third an equally notable merchant. Old class-mates under their president, whom it is their glory to have with them on these annual trips.”
“Why, I—I think that is beautiful!” returned the teacher, with so much enthusiasm that the others reflected how she was “waking up.” “Beautiful,” she added again, after a pause in which she had looked with new interest upon her own young pupils.
“Yes, we must get on. So let’s plan our day the best we can, and take the evening express for Digby. How does this suit? To call a carriage and have you ladies driven all around, to ‘do’ Yarmouth as thoroughly as possible in so short a time. Don’t wait dinner for me—for us. I have a visit to make which must not be postponed, since it concernsthe interests of other people. I’ll take the girls with me and give them a chance to see the inside of a Yarmouth cottage. Also, if we’re invited, to taste a bit of native Yarmouth cookery. We’ll get around back to the inn in time for collecting our traps and making the train. Eh?”
“Suits me well enough;” answered Mrs. Hungerford, and Miss Isobel nodded acquiescence, saying to the surprise of the others: “That descendant of ‘Sealed Waters’ might impart the most information of any driver, possibly.”
“But—Molly! Why, Molly, what are you acting that way for?” demanded Dorothy, smiling at the antics of her mate. For the girl had hastily scanned two of her letters and having saved “the best to the last” was now prancing all over the sidewalk, waving the missive overhead and crying:
“Splendid! Splendid! SPLENDID!”
As Molly’s excitement seemed pleasurable they did not tarry for its explanation but promptly separated; the ladies returning to their hotel to order their carriage and repack the few articles they had taken from their valises.
The Judge set off down the street, still examining his mail and bidding the girls to follow; and, as they did so, Molly exclaimed:
“It’s just too lovely for words! Monty’s coming, Monty’s coming!”
Dorothy almost lost sight of the Judge as he turned a corner into a side street, so long she paused and so disgusted she felt.
“That boy! What’s he coming for? I hope not to be with us!”
“Exactly what he is, then! We laid a little plan that last morning when we started. His mother was in Newburgh, you know, and hadn’t decided where she would pass her vacation. So I suppose he went right to her and asked and she always does just what he wants. He writes that she’d nevervisited Nova Scotia nor Canada and was simply delighted to come. She wouldn’t force their society upon our party, oh! no, not for anything! But she’ll manage to take the first steamer out from Boston and will go straight to Digby. We’ll meet there; and if Aunt Lucretia doesn’t think a Stark is good company for a Breckenridge, I’ll know the reason why. Oh! fine, fine.”
“Oh! nuisance, nuisance! But come on! Your father is ever so far ahead and we’ll have to hurry to catch up.”
They set off upon a run and for a few minutes neither spoke. Molly was disappointed that Dolly didn’t “enthuse,” and the latter felt that a boy—such a boy—would effectually spoil the good times she and her mate might have had together, alone. Finally, Molly asked:
“Who was your letter from?”
For answer and with considerable pride Dorothy drew James Barlow’s epistle from its envelope and held it toward her friend, saying:
“You can read and see.”
Molly read and returned the letter, with a little sniff of contempt and the remark:
“Huh! The only interesting part of that is the post-script. It will be just fine to have those dogs along. I suppose Mrs. Calvert sent them up from Baltimore to Deerhurst. But if I were you, Dolly Doodles, I wouldn’t let that ignoramus preach to me like he does to you in that letter. He’s a prig, that’s what he is, and I hate a prig. So there.”
“No, he isn’t. Mr. Seth would say that he had only ‘lost his head’ for a minute. You see poor Jim can’t get over the wonder of his getting his ‘chance.’ He’s simply crazy-wild over learning—now. He believes it’s the only thing in the world worth while. He didn’t mean to scold me. I—I guess. If he did I don’t mind. He’s only Jim. He just knows I’ll have to take care of my father and mother, some day, if our mineral spring and mine don’t pay better than now. He’s afraid I’ll waste my ‘chance,’ that’s all. Dear, faithful old Jim!”
“Pooh! Horrid, pokey old Jim, I say. But Monty’ll have some fun in him; unless—he thinks two girls are poor company.”
“I hope he will. I hope he’ll coax your father and those old ‘boys’ to take him with them into the woods. That might do him some good and take the nonsense out of him.”
“Well, Dorothy, I think that’s not a nice thing for you to say. You must have forgotten the night of the fire and what he did to help you. There wasn’t any ‘nonsense’ about Montmorency Vavasour-Stark then, if you please!”
Instantly touched by this reminder and fully regretful for her sarcasm—though still sorry that he was coming—Dolly returned:
“That’s true, Molly, honey. I did forget, just for a minute. He’s not half bad, Monty isn’t; and I guess he’ll be useful to climb trees and pick cherries for us, or get flowers that we can’t reach.Anyhow, we’re fairly dawdling and almost quarreling, and all the time your father is getting further away. See! He’s stopping before that house? I’ll race you to the gate!”
“All right. One—two—three—go!”
It was a charming little cottage before which they brought up at the Judge’s side. Its front yard was small, so that the bay-windows one upon each side the door, came almost to the white paling before the grounds; but one could catch a glimpse of a deep garden behind and Dorothy’s flower-loving soul was enchanted by it, even as by the contents of the windows.
“Oh! look! How lovely! Did you ever see such Gloxinias and Cyclamens? And that Weeping Fuschia in the other window! It is gorgeous, simply gorgeous! But how queer, too, to keep plants indoors as late as this! and their lace curtains up, right in the summer-time! Are we going in here, Judge Breckenridge?”
“Yes, indeed. I paused only to let your rhapsody have vent, though I really wish the little mistress of this home could have heard such a spontaneous tribute to her skill as a florist. You’ll notice that peculiarity all through the Province. Window plants remain in the windows all the year round and there is scarcely a home that hasn’t its share of them and its tiny conservatory, such as is here.
“Curtains? I hadn’t thought why they’re up, but maybe it’s to keep out the prying gaze of too eager‘tourists.’ A fine scorn the native always has for the average ‘tourist’—though he has no scorn for the tourist’s cash. Ah! Here she comes!”
At that instant his summons upon the tiny knocker was answered by the soft footfall of a woman, and the opening of the door a narrow way. Then it was as instantly flung wide and a dainty little housemistress, white-capped and white-haired, extended two small, toil-worn hands in greeting.
“Oh! Judge Breckenridge! You did give me such a start! But I’m so glad to see you! So more than glad. Do step right in, please. All of you step in.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cook, for your welcome and your invitation; but we’d rather step right out if you don’t mind?”
“Why—sir!”
“No lack of appreciation, believe me. But I’ve a young lady here who is ‘plumb crazy’ over posies and, coming along on the steamer, I promised her a glimpse of some of Yarmouth’s garden ‘cosy corners.’ I know none lovelier than your own; and as for your window-plants—I’m afraid if we don’t take her away from temptation she’ll break the glass and ‘hook’ one of your ‘Gloxamens’ or ‘Cyclaglinias’ or—”
The lady laughed as merrily as a girl and patted Dorothy’s shoulder with appreciation of the Judge’s joke. Then started to lead the way around the cottage into that inviting greenery behind, when acurious voice hindered her by a pathetic appeal:
“Mamma! Oh! Mamma! Don’t go and leave poor Mum! Quisanthemum must go with Mamma!”
The visitors turned in surprise, toward this querulous “child” as the girls fancied it, though the Judge was already smiling his understanding of the matter. Then there appeared in the doorway a parrot, of wonderful plumage and exaggerated awkwardness; who waddled from side to side, climbed one side of its mistress’s gown to her shoulder and walked head-first down the other, rolling its eyes and emitting the most absurd moans till the two girls were convulsed with laughter.
Then Mrs. Cook held out her wrist, the parrot settled on it, and they proceeded to the garden; the lady explaining:
“This little Miss Chrysanthemum is a spoiled baby. She’s only a few months old, was brought to me by one of my sailor friends, and about rules the house now. Especially when my boy is away.”
As she mentioned her “boy” the tiny woman looked rather anxiously into the Judge’s face; and Dorothy noticed that her own was really quite young, despite the white hair and widow’s cap which crowned it. She thought the lady charming, she was so small, so delicate and quaint. Yet there was the real “English color” on her still fair cheek and her eyes were as bright a blue as Molly’s own.
“Son told me you would call. Also, Ephraim wrote me in his last letter; but I had not expectedyou to-day. I thought you were to be in Yarmouth for a week or more and didn’t anticipate so prompt a kindness.”
Then opening a little bag which hung fastened to her waist, the cottager drew from it a pair of blunt-pointed scissors and gave them to Dorothy, saying:
“It’s you I see, who has the keenest eyes for flowers. Cut all you want of anything you fancy;” and she swept her hand rather proudly toward the hedges of sweet-peas, just coming into bloom, and the magnificent roses which were earlier in her protected garden than elsewhere in the town.
Had Dorothy known it, this was a rare privilege that had been accorded her. Mrs. Cook loved her flowers as she did her human friends and had a fancy that cutting them was almost as cruel as wounding a person she loved. Until they faded she never cut them for her own enjoyment; and only now and then nerved herself to clip them for the cheer of some ailing neighbor. She was therefore greatly pleased when the girl returned the scissors, after one questioning glance toward Molly, as to her possible disappointment.
“Thank you, Mrs. Cook, but I don’t like to do that. They are so lovely and look so happy in this beautiful garden, I’d hate to. We shall be going, I’m told, and they’ll only be ruined for nothing. But, if you please, I’d like to sit down on these steps and enjoy them. Wouldn’t you, Molly? While your father talks with Mrs. Cook.”
The steps belonged to a sort of lean-to, or outdoorkitchen. The little addition was covered with vines in leaf and more sweet-peas clambered about its base. Behind it was the living-room with its open door and table already set for dinner. A savory odor issued thence and set the girls to thinking how remarkably hungry they were, despite their late and substantial breakfast. Also, to wondering if Nova Scotia air was to whet their appetites this way all the time.
Thought Molly, in especial: “If it is I shall buy me a little bag to wear at my waist, as Auntie does, and fill it with crackers.”
Then, thinking of food, she “pricked up her ears,” hearing her hostess inviting:
“But, Judge Breckenridge, I would take it the highest honor if you would share our dinner with us. Of course, it isn’t what I’d have liked to have, had I known. But my husband used to say, ‘Welcome is the best sauce.’ Besides, if you’re to leave so soon I’ll be glad to talk over that matter of which I just spoke. I am really so perplexed as to what is best. You’ve been so kind to my brother-in-law, Ephraim, that—”
She interrupted herself to laugh and observe:
“Yet that’s presumptuous of me, too. The fact that you’ve been a kind adviser to one of the family doesn’t form a precedent for all the rest of us. But, business aside, cannot you and your daughters join us?”
“Thank you. We will be most happy; though I must set you right on that point—of relationship.One is my daughter, the blonde, not the flower-lover; and one is my temporarily ‘adopted.’ Molly and Dolly their names; and two dearer little maids you’ll travel far to find.”
“Aye, they’re fair bonny, and so unlike. Now, sit you down, please, while I dish up; and tell me, if you will, how does the man, Ephraim? He was ever in fear of his health but a better one never lived. After my sister died—the pair of us married brothers—he grew lost and finical. Nought we could do for him just suited the man. It was the grief, I knew. So, after he’d mumbled along more years than he’d ought, fending for himself, he crossed over to the States and drifted south to Richmond and you. ’Twas a sad pity he’d neither son nor daughter to cheer him in his widower life, but so was his Providence. Mine has been better. Son is my hope and—and my anxiety. He’s not found his right niche yet, poor lad. There’s a love of the sea in him, like his sailor father; but he’s never got over that tragedy of his father’s death.”
“Where did that happen, Mrs. Cook? Ephraim told me he was drowned,” asked the visitor, sympathetically.
“Off Pollock Rip Shoals. A bad and fearsome place that, where many an honest fellow has sunk to his last sleep.” She dashed a tear from her eye, and laid her hand for an instant upon her widow’s cap. Then she went on more cheerfully, as if time had taught her resignation: “But that’s a gone-by. Son’s future isn’t. It’s laid upon me by theLord to be both father and mother to the boy and I must study what’s forhisbest, not mine. Ephraim wrote I was to consult you who are a Judge and wise. He said in his letter that he hadn’t been a sort of general-utility-man in your office thus long without knowing it wasn’t your best paying clients that got your best advice. That, wrote Ephraim, came out of your heart for the widows and orphans. We’re that, son and I, and—What a garrulous creature I am!”
All the time the little woman had been talking she had also been preparing for the meal; and it now being ready to serve she stepped to the rear door, opening on the place where the girls were sitting, and announced:
“Our finnan haddie and greens are ready, young ladies, if you will come and partake of it. Also, lest you be disappointed, I’ll say that there’s a ‘John’s Delight’ in the ‘steamer,’ and a dish of the best apples in the Province for the sweeties. Eh? What, my dear?”
To Dorothy’s utter amazement Molly was doing a very rude thing. She had risen and made her very prettiest courtesy, but had supplemented this act of respect by the petition:
“Please, Mrs. Cook, may we have ours out here, on these steps?”
“Why, Molly!” cried her chum, in reproof. “The idea of giving all that trouble!”
“No trouble whatever, but a pleasure,” replied the hostess, although she, also, was surprised.
Molly wheeled upon Dorothy, demanding:
“Wouldn’t you like it here? Could you find a lovelier place to eat in? As for making trouble, I don’t want to do that. I—If Mrs. Cook will just put it on one plate I’ll fetch it here for us both. It would be like a picnic in a garden; and you could stay here and—and watch.”
“Watch? What am I to watch, except these beautiful flowers?” asked Dolly, even further surprised.
Fortunately for Molly her father had not overheard her odd request or she would have received reproof far more effectual than Dorothy’s. Also, Mrs. Cook was hospitality itself, and this meant wishing her guests to enjoy themselves after the manner they liked best.
As swiftly as either of the girls could have moved, she was back in the pleasant living-room, arranging a tray with a portion of the palatable dinner she had provided; saying in response to the Judge’s inquiring expression:
“We thought it would be a fine thing, and one the lassies will long remember, to have their Bluenose dinner in a Bluenose garden. For all their lives long they can think of this summer day and my greenery yon; and, maybe, too, of the first time they ever ate ‘finnan haddie’ and ‘John’s Delight.’ More than that, it will give us the freedom of speech with son, as it wouldn’t were they sitting by. He’s aye shy, is my laddie.”
Then she carried out a little table, set it besidethe steps and placed the tray thereon. After which she “Begged pardon!” and lifted up her gentle voice in an appeal that sounded almost pathetic in its entreaty.
“Son! Dear son Melvin! Come now to dinner with your mother! Son! SON!”
The last word was spoken in a tone he rarely disobeyed, and low-toned though it was, it was so distinctly uttered that people passing on the street beyond heard it. So also must he have heard who was summoned, if he was anywhere upon those premises—as he had been when these guests arrived.
However, he did not appear; and Mrs. Cook and the Judge sat down alone, while “Son” for whom that “home dinner” had been specially prepared was “fair famished” for want of it.
Out upon the steps of that lattice-covered, vine-enwrapped summer-house, the two girls enjoyed their dinner greatly. In particular did mistress Molly. Her eyes sparkled, her dimples came and went, her smiles almost interfered with her eating, and her whole behavior was so peculiar that Dorothy stared. She was puzzled and began to be slightly disgusted, and at last remarked:
“Why, honey, I never saw you get so much—so much fun out of your food. I’ve heard about gourmands. I think I can guess now what they are and act like. Hark! What’s that noise? Kind of a crackle, as if a cat or something was overhead among those vines. I hope it isn’t. Cats love fish.I always have to shut up Lady Rosalind when Mother Martha has it for dinner. Isn’t ‘finnan haddie’ a queer name?”
“Yes. I’ve heard Papa tell of it before. It’s haddock smoked, some sort of queer way. But this is nice—My! How nice this is! Umm, umm, umm!” giggled Molly, as if she found something most amusing in the food she smacked her lips over in such a very strange manner.
“Well, Molly Breckenridge, one thing I can say for you. That is: it’s a good thing Miss Rhinelander isn’t here to see you now. You—you act like a little pig. Excuse me, but you really do.”
“Cats do like fish. Maybe it’s a cat. Let’s call it a cat, anyway,” answered Molly, in no wise offended by her chum’s plain speech. Then lifting her voice she began to call: “Kitty! Kitty! Kitty—kitty—kitty—kitty—kitty—come!” as fast as she could speak.
Just then Mrs. Cook came out to them to remove their plates and bring them generous portions of “John’s Delight,” a dessert which Molly declared was “first cousin to a Christmas plum pudding,” and over which she was tempted to smack her lips in earnest, not pretence. A momentary soberness touched her merry face, however, when the hostess observed with keen regret:
“I am so sorry Son isn’t here to do the honors of this little picnic. I don’t see where he can have gone. His dinner on shore is always such a pleasure to him and besides—I wanted him to meet youall in a private fashion, not as a bugler aboard-ship.”
“Maybe—maybe he is—isdoing the honors!” said Molly, half choking over the strange remark. “Maybe he’s—he can see—he’s rather shy, isn’t he? The sailor said they called him the ‘Bashful Bugler.’ But he—he bugles beautifully, especially first calls to meals which a seasick girl can’t eat. I—”
Then she stopped abruptly. Mrs. Cook was looking at her with much the same expression Dorothy’s mobile face had worn; and again from overhead came that ominous crackle of breaking twigs. Also, a few crushed leaves fluttered to the ground and caused Dorothy to exclaim:
“Must be a pretty big cat to tear things like that. Did you see it? Do you suppose it’s a wildcat? Don’t they have all sorts of creatures in the Nova Scotia woods? Do you suppose it’s wild—”
“It certainly is. It’s about the wildest thing I ever met—of its size. Isn’t this pudding delicious? If I was a hungry, a sea-starved cat how angry I should be to be kept out of my share of it just by a couple of girls. Girls are cats’ natural enemies. Sometimes girls eat cats—if they’re nice, purry, pussy-cats! Some cats have blue eyes, and some—Why, Papa! Are you ready? Going so soon?”
“Yes, dear. I can’t wait any longer. I am greatly disappointed in not seeing Melvin again; but possibly he may run up to the station before thetrain starts. I’ll try to be there early. As early as I can, though I have some little affairs here still to attend to. Good-by, Mrs. Cook. I think the plan we have discussed is the best all round. It will be a test, so to speak. There is nothing like life in the woods together to break down all barriers of shyness or reserve.
“Thank you, cordially, for your hospitality. I haven’t enjoyed a dinner so much in many a day. I will see you again, if we return this way, and I will keep you informed of my address if our plan falls through and we have to try some other.”
Deeply moved, the little mother began to utter her own profuse thanks; for what the listening girls did not know. But these were promptly suppressed by the Judge’s manner of saying:
“Don’t do that, yet, my dear lady. Wait and prove Ephraim’s words are true. And now good-by again. I had hoped to have you and my sister meet, but our unexpected departure has prevented that until some more fortunate future day.”
He raised his hat, bowed profoundly, and walked away; the girls making their adieus and expressing their own thanks for hospitality received in a manner which did credit to Miss Rhinelander’s training. Only Molly’s cheek burned with an unusual blush, and she did not lift her eyes to Mrs. Cook’s as readily and affectionately as Dorothy did.
The latter, indeed, was to receive a rare tribute; for the lady followed her to the street and slipping inside the front door broke from her beautifulGloxinias a handful of blossoms and gave them to the girl, saying:
“My dear, I’m sure you will appreciate these; and I’m equally sure you and I have much in common. Good-by. May all good things attend you.” Then she kissed the red lips which had impulsively kissed her and watched them all out of sight.
But she did not kiss Molly; and though that young person would not have expected such a caress, she was for an instant jealous of that bestowed upon Dorothy.
The Judge waited for them to join him and taking a hand of each, in his fatherly fashion, remarked:
“I find that sailor’s widow a very charming woman and a perfect hostess. No apologies for what she had to offer, though in her heart a slight regret that it was not of some sort more expensive. A pity Melvin didn’t appear. I would have liked to study him in his mother’s presence. One can always tell what a boy is by the way he treats his mother; and I wasn’t pleased that he so disregarded her call to dinner, because she said he had been there when I knocked and after we had entered the garden itself.”
A sudden comprehension of the state of things flashed through Dorothy’s mind, and she turned her eyes inquiringly toward Molly, who flushed, hesitated, and finally burst forth:
“He couldn’t come, Papa dear, because—because I wouldn’t let him! He got caught in the trap of his own horrid bashfulness.”
Somehow Molly was no longer giggling, as she had been at intervals ever since they reached the cottage. Things didn’t look as “funny” as they had a few minutes before; nor was she pleased to have the Judge stop short on the path and demand:
“Explain yourself, daughter.”
“Why it’s easy enough. When that Melvin boy, that bugler, saw us coming to that porch he was scared stiff. He just looked at us a second, then scrambled up that lattice-work to the top of that arbor or whatever it is, and—course he had to stay there. That’s why I sat down on those steps. Why I wanted my dinner out there. Oh! it was the funniest thing! A great big boy like him to stay up on such an uncomfortable place just because two girls whom he’ll never see again had sat down beneath him. Of course, he’d have to pass us to answer his mother’s call to dinner; and he’d rather go without that than do it. Oh! it was too funny for words! And when the leaves fell Dolly thought it was the ‘cat.’ She wondered if it was a ‘wildcat,’ and I said ‘yes, it was wild!’ Oh! dear! I was so amused!”
Dorothy laughed. To her the affair had also its “too funny” side, now that she understood it. But the Judge did not laugh. If he felt any secret amusement at the girlish prank he did not betray it in his expression, which was the sternest his daughter had ever seen when bent upon her idolized self.
“Well, Molly, you certainly have distinguished yourself. The joke which might have been harmlessunder some circumstances was an abominable rudeness under these. I am ashamed of you. I shall expect you to write a note of apology to Mrs. Cook, before you leave Yarmouth. And as for never seeing Melvin again, let me set you right. I have invited the lad to join us for our entire summer vacation. Understand?”
Alas! She understood but too well. Yet if a bomb had exploded at her feet she could hardly have been more astonished.
The main street of pretty Digby runs close to the water. The bluff is crowned by a grassy sward and a row of well-grown trees, with a driveway between these and the buildings on the further side.
“Oh! how lovely and how different from our own seaside places, with their hot sands, board walks, and cityfied shops. I hope no board walk will ever spoil this charming boulevard!” exclaimed a lady, who stood at a hotel window overlooking Annapolis Basin, on whose shore nestles the little town.
“Yes, Mamma! Aren’t you glad you came?” asked Monty Stark, entering the room and joining her at the window.
“I hope I shall be, dear. I’m a little anxious about your friends. I should greatly object, myself, to having people force themselves upon a touring party I had organized. But you must understand, Montmorency, that if I discover the slightest sign of objection to us, I shall go on my own way and you will have to go with me. I—I am not accustomed to being patronized or—no matter. Icame to please you, my precious boy, and I hope it will be all right. Let me see if you are quite correct. I suppose the guests wear evening dress for dinner as in other civilized places. Though—it looks more like a country village yonder, than a real watering place.”
“But, Mamma, it is a country village. Nothing else, the Judge says. And somehow I feel rather silly in this rig. I saw the Judge a moment ago and he wasn’t in evening clothes, but he’s a ‘brick’ all right!”
“Montmorency! How can you use such dreadful expressions?”
“Easy as preaching,chere Maman!”
“I’m afraid your associates at Brentnor are not all of them as refined and exclusive as I had supposed. I’ve observed other phrases that I do not like. One of them was, I think, ‘Shucks!’”
“Yes, I reckon you did. I didn’t catch that from a Brentnor, though, but from Jim Barlow.”
“Who is he, pray?”
“Blest if I can tell or he either. He hails from a poorhouse. He was ‘bound out’ to a woman truck farmer. He’s been ‘taken up’ by Mrs. Cecil Somerset-Calvert, of Baltimore, and lots of other places. A lady that’s so rich she has homes in ever so many different parts of the country. But better than that he’s a ‘trump,’ a life-saver, a scholar, and—a gentleman! One of ‘Nature’s’ you know. Would like to have you meet him because he’s my present chum; that is, he would be if—if we livedin the same house and could be. But unfortunately, he has agreed to do ‘chores’ for a parson in payment for his instruction in Greek and all the ‘ologies.’ He’s off on a tramp now, ‘hoofing it,’ as he elegantly expresses it, for a vacation. He’s taken the parson and a couple of dogs along for company. The parson’s a trotting tramper, too. Maybe you’ve read some of his delightful articles in the magazines. Eh? What? Too much for you, Mamma? Well, never mind. I’ll quit now, for there goes the last bell for dinner. Allow me?”
Bowing and offering his arm Monty conducted his richly clad mother toward the dining-room, whither a crowd of tourists were hastening. These were garbed in any sort of comfortable traveling clothes, the women mostly in white shirt-waists such as Mrs. Stark would have disdained even for morning wear at home. The men looked as if they had just come from a dusty train, a too-fragrant fishing boat, or a rough camp in the woods; and at the foot of the stairs the fashionable Mrs. Stark paused in a sort of dismay.
For an instant, too, she had an odd feeling as if it were she who had made a mistake, not those groups of merry, hungry holiday-makers, who elbowed one another good naturedly, in order to find a seat at the crowded tables. Mrs. Stark wasn’t used to elbowing or being elbowed, and she gathered her silken train in her hand to preserve it from contact with the oil-cloth covered floor of the lobby, while her face gathered an expression of real alarm.
“Why, my dear son! We can’t stay here, you know! It is simply impossible to hobnob with such—such queer persons. We must seek another hotel at once. I’ll step into that room yonder which is the ‘parlor’ probably, and you summon the proprietor. I—I am not accustomed to this want of courtesy and—indeed, dear, I am greatly displeased with you. You painted the trip in such glowing colors I—”
“But, Mamma, don’t the colors glow? Did you ever see anything in your life lovelier than this glimpse of the Annapolis Basin, with the moonlight on it, the great peaks and cliffs beyond? I’m sorry if you’re disappointed but you didn’t seem to be up in your room, looking out. As for changing hotels we’d simply ‘hop out of the frying pan into the fire,’ since this is the best one in the town. Else Judge Breckenridge wouldn’t have come here.”
“Monty, dear! Such phrases again! Is that another lesson learned from the poorhouse boy?”
“No, indeedy! I caught that from Alfaretta Babcock. She of theretroussénose and simple speech. A royal sort of girl, too, is Alfy; first of the alphabetical Babcock sisters. The second is—But come, Mamma. We’re in for it and I don’t want to go to bed hungry, even if you do. I’m afraid, Mother mine, that there’s been too much ‘de luxe’ in your life and I shall have to reconstruct you.”
His mirthful face provoked her to laughter despite her real vexation and fortunately, at thatmoment, Mrs. Hungerford entered the room and advanced to Mrs. Stark with extended hand and the warmest of greetings.
“This is Monty’s mother, I’m sure. I am Molly’s Auntie Lu. We exist I fancy, for our respective youngsters and mine discovered you through the doorway of the dining-room and commissioned me to fetch you. We’ve had seats reserved for you at our table in the corner and I apologize for not hunting you up earlier. The truth is we were out driving until the last moment and were greatly hurried ourselves. So, of course, we were none of us here when the train came in and I did not know you had arrived. Shall we go now? You will find that people grow desperately hungry when they first come into this bracing air, and with the best intentions in the world, the proprietor isn’t always able to provide enough for such clamorous appetites. My brother says that explains the rather rude crowding to get ‘first table,’ and that our remedy lies in doing a bit of crowding ourselves. I rather enjoy it, already, though we only came here yesterday. Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“No, I did not. I was never on such a poor steamer before. Fortunately I wasn’t ill and it’s not a long sail from Boston across. Is it really true, as Montmorency tells me, that there is no better hotel than this?” returned the other, rising to follow Auntie Lu.