CHAPTER VIIIIN THE MAIL“Be ready at two thirty for a trip to Lower Woods Harbor, please,” said Jim, as they left the bus; adding in an undertone to Nancy, “our last ride together.”“It is hard to realize that,” she replied softly. “It seems as if we were just going on and on in this bus for the rest of the summer.”“We’ll probably find some letters here,” said Miss Ashton, as she went toward the desk in the lobby.“I hope so,” replied Jeanette. “It seems perfect ages since we left home.”“Homesick, Janie?” inquired Martha.“Oh, no; only I do love to get mail; and it seemed queer to be without it all this time.”“Well, here’s plenty of it,” said Miss Ashton, distributing it rapidly. “Two for Jeanette, three for Martha, five for Nancy, and four for myself.”“Let’s go somewhere and read it all; so we can exchange news,” proposed Martha.“A very good idea. That ‘somewhere’ might just as well be one of our rooms,” agreed Miss Ashton, leading the way to the elevator, to which a bell boy had already preceded them with the luggage. They got off at the third floor, where two rooms had been reserved for them. They were a bit disappointed to find that they were not connecting; one, a small room, was near the end of the corridor; the other, much larger, was near the stairs.“My goodness,” exclaimed Martha, as they entered the larger one. “You could give a dance here!”A huge double bed near the fireplace, a single beside the two long windows (from which they could see the wharf), a big wardrobe, an immense dresser, a fair-sized square table and three chairs only partly filled the old-fashioned room; and its very high ceilings accentuated its huge proportions.“You could take the single bed if you wanted to, Mart,” proposed Nancy; “and give Miss Ashton a chance to get a little real sleep. You see, we know how restless she is at night, as well as by day,” she added to Miss Ashton.“Fix it up any way to suit yourselves,” she replied; “and that will please me. Now for our mail.”For several minutes there was no sound except the opening of envelopes and the turning of pages. When everyone had read all her communications, they began to exchange bits of information.“One of mine,” said Miss Ashton, “is from Madelon. Her foster mother is still confined to her bed, and she has no idea when she will be able to come back to Boston.”“What a shame!” cried Nancy.“Poor Madelon!” said Jeanette softly. “She must feel terribly lonely up there now, after having lived in a city like Boston.”“I don’t know her at all,” said Martha; “but let’s all get her some little thing and mail to her at different times.”“That is a very nice idea,” approved Miss Ashton. “She said to tell you girls how much she regretted being unable to show you Boston, which she likes so well. The rest of my letters are from old or prospective patients, and would not interest you particularly.”“One of mine,” said Jeanette, “is from home. Mother spent Monday with your mother, Nan, and she said Polly kept calling, ‘Where is Nancy?’ She seemed to think Mother should know. My other letter is from Mrs. Perkins, and encloses one from Joey. Wait. I’ll read them both to you. Mrs. Perkins says:“‘I was so glad to get your card, and to know that you and your special pals were going to have such a delightful trip. Nova Scotia is a place I always thought I should like to see. Perhaps if your reports of it are enticing, I may yet visit it some day. When you come back to college, you might give us a travel talk; and, by the way, there might be a surprise here awaiting your return. Don’t write and ask me what it is; for I shall not tell you.Thatwould spoil the surprise.“‘The Harris family is getting along very well. One of Pauline’s office friends invited her to go on a vacation trip to Toronto, for both of them happened to get the same two weeks. The other girl’s people live there; so it was a question simply of the fare for Pauline; and that was managed quite nicely——’”“Which means that she supplied the money herself,” interrupted Nancy.“‘Joey’” [continued Jeanette], “‘has been rather lonely this summer, in spite of all the attention lavished on him by the Harrises and the college people who live in town. He misses, I think, the crowd and bustle of college life. I enclose a note from him.“‘Love to you and your pals,“‘Alicia Perkins.’”“And here is Joey’s note,” she went on; “of course the spelling is superb, so you had better read it for yourselves.” She passed it on, and they all read:“Dee Mis Janete, Hop you ar havin a fin time but com bac soon THanks fur the cards Rollo sends lov.“Joey.”“And who, pray, is Joey?” inquired Miss Ashton.“Oh, we forgot,” cried Nancy. “You don’t know anything about Joey, or Mrs. Perkins either; do you?”All three of the girls tried to explain at once; so Miss Ashton had to exercise her imagination in spots to piece together the disjointed, interrupted bits of information about the little crippled boy who belonged to one of the college janitors, and had been taken up by the students as a sort of protégé; and of the fine Mrs. Perkins who was a member of the girls’ club for helping others.“Poor little fellow,” she said, when the trio had finished. “Seems to me he should have some simple lessons to help occupy him, as well as to develop his mind.”“Perhaps when we go back, he will be able to,” replied Jeanette thoughtfully. “He really wasn’t well enough for anything but play last year. Some days even that was too much of an exertion.”“Now, Nannie,” said Martha. “What news have you to contribute?”“The first letter I read was from Mother,” said Nancy. “Dad has bought a dog—a big collie, which they have named Peter; and Polly just can’t bear him.He, however, is quite curious abouther, and frequently stands for some minutes in front of the cage, gazing at her, undisturbed apparently by her shrieks of rage and uncomplimentary remarks.“Mother has been dividing her spare time, since we left, between instructing a new maid, and sewing for a family whose house and belongings were badly damaged by fire. She says she has been a regular pest to the neighbors because she has asked all of them for cast-off clothing and furniture. Her struggles with the maid must be very funny; for she can’t speak a word of Italian, nor the girl a syllable of English. She tried to explain to Benita the other day that the floors in the bedrooms must be gone over with the dust mop every day, and showed her how the lint gathered under the beds where there were a couple of pairs of slippers. The next morning after the upstairs work was finished, Mother was horrified to find her slippers set carefully on her lovely orchid rayon dresser spread! She learned from. Benita’s pantomime explanations that if the slippers were not kept under the bed there would be nothing to catch the dust. Now Mother puts all her footwear in the closet, where, she says, it really belongs after all. Mother hurt her ankle the other day (it was nothing serious, but she had to keep off of it for a day); and she sent Benita out to get the mail, from the box. She tried by gesticulations to get her to understand what she wanted; but from the noise on the porch she wondered what on earth Benita was doing. It seems that our maid is quite a muscular person; for what do you suppose she did? She got the wrong idea from Mother’s motions about taking something out of a box, and actually ripped the flower box off the railing of the porch and brought it in! Mother is surely having some fun, but I imagine it is rather trying. That is about all of interest in her letter.”“And the second one?” urged Martha.“That is from Uncle John. They have added a sun parlor to the house, Janie, on the south side, you know, near the fence where the lizards sun themselves——”“Lizards, ugh!” shuddered Martha.“Oh, Mart, you wouldn’t mind them. They are dear little things, some of them quite tame.”“No recommendations at all to my way of thinking,” retorted Martha. “The wilder the better, I should say, if being wild makes them keep away from me.”“What else did the Doctor say?” inquired Jeanette, who was very fond of Nancy’s uncle.“He saw Madame the other day; in fact, she invited them over for dinner. She told him that she is considering getting a companion. Her husband is so occupied with some kind of writing that he is doing, that she is left alone a great deal of the time; and she would like a young girl who would liven up the house a bit. She says that she would be prepare to treat the right kind of a girl like a daughter, entertain for her, and all that. She wanted to know if Uncle could recommend anyone. He did not know of any possibilities, but promised to keep his eyes open.”“Pauline!” cried Jeanette.“Janie, you’re a genius! I wonder if she would go!” exclaimed Nancy. “I’ll write Uncle to-night, and tell him all about her.”“And the third epistle?” teased Martha, who had seen an envelope addressed in a masculine hand.“That’s from Curtis,” replied Nancy, without a trace of self-consciousness or embarrassment. “He has been sent out to Portland.”“Maine?” asked Martha, hopefully. “That’s isn’t so far from here. We might stop over on the way home.”“Sorry to disappoint you, dear,” answered Nancy, sweetly, “but I saidoutnotup, for the Portland in question happens to be in Oregon.”“‘Now that’s too bad! That’s just too bad!’” sighed Martha.Everybody laughed; for they had all recently seen “On with the Show” and recognized the quotation at once.“Curtis wrote only a note; for he had just arrived, and had not yet seen anything interesting. This other letter,” she continued, “is from Phil Spenser.”“Oh, are he and Tom going to meet us in Boston as they spoke of doing?” asked Jeanette.“Time alone can tell,” replied Nancy.“They started out in Tom’s old Ford coupe, intending to take in quite a part of the Adirondacks on the way. Thinking to make better time, or merely for the experience, I don’t know which, they drove all one night, instead of putting up anywhere. They made a wrong turn at some point or other, which took them off the main highway onto a very deserted road, where they were held up by a couple of armed men——”“How perfectlythrilling!” cried Martha.“Who relieved them of all their money, their watches, etc., punctured all the tires, and then rode off in their own little car. The boys stayed there until morning, and then got a passing motorist from the highway to tow them to the nearest garage. They had no money to pay for repairs; so made arrangements with the garage owner to stay and work out their bill. They worked there for a week, and then started on, almost penniless, for Lake Placid——”“But why didn’t they send home for some money?” demanded Martha.“Because Tom had taken with him all he could afford to spend on vacation, and Mr. Spenser, under protest, had furnished Phil with a like amount.”“I thought the Spensers had quite a lot of money,” said Jeanette.“They have, I believe; but Mr. Spenser thinks Phil should earn what he wants to spend on pleasure. Phil says his dad was quite annoyed because he preferred going off with Tom to working all the rest of the summer in the Electric Company’s office. I imagine it was only the fact that Tom begged for Phil’s company that made Mr. Spenser consent at all. He feels that Tom has rather a good effect on Phil, I understand. But, to go on with the story—they tried all the hotels to see if they could get jobs, and finally found one where one of the elevator boys had just been sent to the hospital; so Tom was taken on as a sub. After some more wandering about, Phil found a place with an old man who has a farm a little way up the lake, and who supplies the hotels with chickens and eggs. He used to deliver his wares himself in an old-fashioned buggy; but that method is too slow now. He bought a Ford truck, and then discovered that he couldn’t learn to run it. Phil fortunately appeared on the scene at that particular moment, and was hired at once.”“Just imagine,” cried Martha, “the superior Phil Spenser driving up to those big hotels with a load of chickens and eggs. It’s the funniest thing I have ever heard!”“So that is what they are doing now,” concluded Nancy; “and their meeting us all depends on whether they can earn enough money before we go home.”She picked up another letter. “This,” she said, “is from Ethel King——”“Oh,whatdoes she say about Emma?” inquired Jeanette eagerly.“I’ll read it to you.“‘Dear Girls:“‘To say that I was pleasantly surprised when Emma stepped off the train at Plattsburg is to put it mildly. Her hair looks just fine, and her pride in her new bob is very funny. She keeps patting it, and feeling of it to see if it is still there. Later on she’ll have to be broken of that. However, Marian will teach, or try to teach, her repose of manner. Did you ever seeanybody practice it so perfectly as our “Mary Ann”? She never touches her clothing or herself, or anything at all, in fact, unnecessarily. I understand that her mother is painfully neat and particular—(what a jolt poor Emma will give her!)—and I suppose Marian took her ways quite naturally, or was trained into them.“‘Emma’s wardrobe is perfect, and she really takes pains to keep her things nice. I suspect that was some of Jeanette’s good work. Her manners, too, are greatly improved, and she does not hang onto one’s waist or neck quite so persistently as of yore.“‘You will want to know, I suppose, what little Ethel did for her. Well, Mother and I talked things over beforehand—for, of course, I had to confide in her—and we decided to teach our mutual friend the joys of athletic exercise. We get the morning setting-up series over the radio; so the very first day I routed her out and made her do them with me; and ditto the rest of the days. Twice a day we went into the water, and Emma learned to swim a little. We went for tramps through the woods, and along the shore; and had picnic suppers. In fact, as I said, outdoor exercise was the theme of our entertainment. At the end of the week, Emma really had a little color, and had straightened up considerably.“‘Esther expected to interest her in gym work when she went to Moore’s; so I imagine when we see Emma again she will have lost that distressing stoop, and rounded shoulders. I’m really very anxious to see what the entire summer will do for her. I can’t help thinking, though, that whatever does come out of it, the most credit should go to you two. The start you gave her in those two weeks was incredible. But all the C.M.’s are so different, and ride such diverse hobbies, that the composite result should be at least interesting, if not inspiring.“‘Do run up here, if you can, before the summer is over, any or all of you. Love,“‘Ethel’”“What might be wrong with this Emma!” asked Miss Ashton, and again the three all enlightened her at once.“Glad you are being such friends in need,” was her brief comment, when they had finished. “And now let’s get ready for lunch.”“Clams,” read Jeanette from the menu, when they were seated at the table. “I never ate any, but I understand they’re very popular here.”“No time like the present,” suggested Nancy a bit absently, her eyes roving about the dining room.“But I shouldn’t know how to eat them,” said Jeanette, wavering between her desire to taste a new food, and reluctance to appear awkward in such a public place.“I’ll show you,” offered Martha.“Do you really know how?” asked Jeanette, a bit doubtfully.“Of course I do. I went to a couple of clam bakes last summer.”When a cup of melted butter, another of hot water, and a big dish of steaming clams were set before her, Jeanette looked really frightened.“Oh, I shouldn’t have ordered them. I don’t know what to do first.”“You open them this way,” said Martha, demonstrating them as she talked; “pull off this piece, which I always called its ear——”“Why?” asked Jeanette, watching anxiously.“Because that part is not good. Then dip the clam into water, to wash the sand out, then in the melted butter, and then swallow it.”“You take it in your fingers?” asked Jeanette in horrified tones.“Of course.”“Are yousure?”“Why, yes. Go ahead, and don’t be silly!”Slowly and awkwardly, Jeanette repeated the processes which Martha had demonstrated.“Everybody is looking at me,” she said, flushing hotly.“Everybody is far too interested in his own lunch to bother looking at you,” Miss Ashton assured her.“I’m afraid this isn’t the right way to do it,” protested Jeanette, over the third clam. “It seems so sort of messy.”“I certainly would have no object in deceiving you,” retorted Martha, a bit tartly. “That man at the next table just got some. Watch him and see what he does.”Rather to Jeanette’s surprise, and to Martha’s complete satisfaction, their neighbor employed the same method.“You’re right, Mart,” admitted Jeanette. “I don’t mean that I actually doubted your word; but, as I said, the process is so unattractive.”“I agree with you,” said Nancy. “Someone ought to invent a more gracefully way of handling them.”“Someone ought to invent a means of keeping the time from passing so quickly,” observed Miss Ashton. “We are due in the bus in ten minutes.”A light fog was beginning to be seen and felt as they took their old places in the bus.“Couldn’t you have ordered a better afternoon?” asked Martha saucily of Jim as they left the hotel behind. “And don’t forget that you promised to show us some ox teams to-day. In fact, you told us we’d see a lot yesterday, and not even one appeared.”“I’ll do my best,” was Jim’s brief reply. He was not much of a talker at any time, except when his work required it; but this afternoon he was more quiet than ever before. Nancy, too, was strangely silent.The country through which they were riding was sterner, more rugged than any they had yet seen; now rocky shores, rolling stony pastures, few houses, bleak strips of beach seen through a heavy mist, with white billows of fog in the background ready to roll in upon the land at any minute and envelop everything in its baffling embrace.“Here comes your ox team, Mart,” said Jeanette presently, as they saw in the near distance a team pulling a long low wagon loaded with stone.Jim good-naturedly stopped the bus and let the girls get out to take a picture of the animals at a watering trough where they paused for a drink.“Why, they have no harness,” said Jeanette, “only that heavy wooden yoke laid across their necks and binding their heads together. How do you guide them?” she asked of the driver.“With this small whip, Miss, and my directions,” replied the man.“Poor things!” said Nancy, after they had climbed back into the bus again. “They look so sad, and lumber along so bent down that it really is depressing. The expression in their eyes is truly pathetic. I almost wish I hadn’t gotten out to look at them.”The girls laughed, but Jim looked down understandingly at Nancy. Jim, who slowed down the big bus to almost a standstill if even a chicken crossed the road in front of it!“These people,” he said, after a moment, “are very proud of their fine oxen, and take pains to have them perfectly matched. If one of a team happens to die, they travel all over the country, if need be, to find an exact match for the survivor.”“Why do they prefer them to horses, I wonder,” said Miss Ashton.“Because they are cheaper to feed. They are peculiar to Nova Scotia; for nowhere else in Canada are they still used.”The fog billows gathered themselves together, and rolled along the surface of the water, closer and closer to the land.“What are those?” asked Nancy, pointing to a stack of crate-like objects near a fisherman’s hut.“Lobster pots,” said Jim; “and that pile of stakes with the ball-like colored tops are markers.”At the next pile, which happened to be close beside the road, he stopped and got out; and they all followed him to see what the strange looking cages were really like.The base of the pot was rectangular in shape, and between two and three feet long, and a foot and a half wide. It was made of narrow strips of wood; and the sides and top were formed, in a semicircle, of similar narrow strips bent and fastened to the base, into which some flat stones are wedged to give weight, and help sink them. The trap is lined with coarse net, and openings are left at the side and ends, with the net so arranged that the lobsters can get in, but once in, cannot get out. The box-like cage is let down in the water where lobsters are known to be plentiful, and a marker is set up beside it. The lobster is so full of curiosity that he crawls into the trap, but finds it more difficult to get out again. Some of the pots are so constructed as to catch four lobsters at one time.“You will notice,” said Jim, “that the markers are of different colors and combinations of color. Every fisherman in a section has his own, and no one else dares to touch the trap guarded by the markers of another.”Jeanette had been busy pulling wild roses from the thicket beside which they were standing; and when they got back into the car, presented each person with a fragrant spray. Some of these sprays were carelessly thrown away as the flowers wilted; but two of them were carefully pressed and preserved for many years.“Oh, what is going on here?” cried Martha, as they approached a small village.Flags, large and small, the blue one of New Scotland, the Canadian maple leaf, the Union Jack, the tricolor of France all strung along the roadside; also on the houses, barns, trees, and even merely stuck into the ground. Even the tiniest, poorest cottage proudly flaunted its bit of loyalty. The grounds of the church were surrounded with conveyances of all types, from brand new Fords to muddy canopied surreys. Crowds of people were standing about the building, some setting up tables, some carrying chairs, some helping the tall young priest place the donations of food and fancy articles which would presently be sold. Between two trees stretched a banner of blue, bearing in white letters the words “Old Home Week.” For miles, the roads were dotted with men, women, and children of all ages, dressed in their best, hurrying eagerly along on foot to take part in the festival.Jim prolonged the drive as much as possible, but at last it came to an end; and they drew up once more before the hotel.“Well, my boy,” said Miss Ashton, “we have enjoyed the trip immensely, and are indeed sorry that it is over. Look me up when you get back to Boston, if you ever happen to feel like it. Here’s my card.”“Thank you. Perhaps I shall. I live in Cambridge, but that’s only across the river, as you know.”Jeanette and Martha then said good-by, and Jeanette considerately took Martha by the arm, and followed Miss Ashton into the hotel.“And have you enjoyed it all?” asked Jim, when he and Nancy were left alone.“Just wonderfully,” replied Nancy honestly. “The most of any trip I have ever taken.”“I wish I had a stop-over here so I could show you the town; but I go back to Digby first thing in the morning, as soon as the boat comes in. Do you suppose you could go out to-night for a walk, or are you too tired?”“I’ve done nothing to tire me,” said Nancy, smiling. “And I’m sure Miss Ashton won’t mind.”“Then I’ll call for you at—say eight?”“Yes; I’ll be all ready.”They could not have told you where they walked that evening, nor what they said; but their conversation was entirely of themselves.Nancy heard all about Jim’s parents, and his older brother; about his plans and hopes for the future; his experiences in prep school, and at college. She in turn told him all about herself and her friends.“I wish I were going back on the boat with you to-morrow night,” he said, as they rested on the enclosed porch for a few minutes before parting for good.“It would be very nice, if you could,” she said. “When do you expect to go back?”“I have no idea. Whenever orders come. Well, you must get some sleep; for you’ll want to shop in the morning, I suspect. There are some stores here which I guess would interest girls.”Reluctantly they rose, and stood silent for a moment.“Will you write, Nancy?”“Yes.”Poor Jim! He could think of many things which he would like to say, but was too bashful, too repressed to put them into words.They clasped hands; then Jim ran down the steps, turning to salute when he reached the sidewalk.Nancy did not feel like joining the others just yet; so she selected a far corner of the nearly deserted writing room and began a letter to her mother. Miss Ashton peered in at her a couple of times, and then went upstairs again without disturbing her.“Nan is writing,” she said to the other two girls. “I imagine she will be up after a while. I, for one, am going right to bed.”She was as good as her word; but she lay for several hours, turning over an idea in her mind. When she had settled it to her satisfaction, and not until then, she fell asleep.In the meantime Jeanette and Martha had also retired, and lay talking across the room.“It seems to me,” said Martha, “that somebody has quite a case on somebody else.”“Your statement is a trifle ambiguous,” laughed Jeanette, “but I know what you mean.”“And don’t you think so, too?” persisted Martha.“Yes, I do; but for pity’s sake don’t let Nan know that you notice it. She just hates any of what she calls ‘foolishness over the boys.’”“That’s the funny part of it,” said Martha. “I don’t believe she realizes that Jim is just crazy about her.”“Or that she cares for him,” added Jeanette, to herself.“Do you?”“No-o-o,” yawned Jeanette. “I’m terribly sleepy. Let’s settle down.”It would be easier for Nancy if they were both asleep when she came up, and she could slip into bed without having to talk. Martha was soon breathing heavily; but Jeanette did not succeed in getting to sleep until long after Nancy came to bed.CHAPTER IXRAMBLES ABOUT YARMOUTH“What are we to do to-day?” asked Martha at the breakfast table.“Shop, and see the town,” suggested Jeanette.“Suits me,” said Nancy, when they all waited for her comments. Just a few minutes before, she had heard the whistle of a boat from the wharf. The steamer from Boston must have docked, and the big bus was down there now ready for a new cargo of passengers. What would this crowd be like? She wondered.“I have some letters to write; so I’ll have to be excused,” said Miss Ashton. “If I finish in time, I may hunt you up; if not, we’ll all meet here at lunch time.”An hour later, the three girls were strolling along the main street, stopping in various stores to look at the goods most attractively displayed.“I could spend a day in there,” said Nancy, as they left a stationer’s store, where English books and magazines invited one to browse.“It’s funny, I suppose; but I never thought of their having different magazines from ours,” said Martha.“I know. It gives one a kind of a start to look at the display, and not see a name one recognizes,” remarked Jeanette.“I’d love to read them all, and compare them with similar publications of ours,” said Nancy.“We might buy Joey one of those books for small boys,” suggested Jeanette.“That’s so,” and Nancy darted back into the store to select one.When she came out, they wandered on again until they came to a shop where all kinds of gifts were sold.“Don’t you think it would be nice,” said Jeanette, “if we were all to put together and get some little souvenir for Miss Ashton? It need not be very expensive, but something that she could keep as a memento of this trip.”“I think that would be fine,” agreed Nancy. “She has been just wonderful to us.”“So do I,” added Martha. “What shall we get?”They were inside now, and gazing helplessly at the fascinating array.“One of these water colors of Nova Scotian scenery,” suggested Jeanette, picking one up as she spoke.When there were three to be suited, and each picture they looked at was more beautiful than the last, the process of making a decision was a lengthy one. At last, however, it was accomplished to everyone’s satisfaction; and to the relief of the clerk.“Dear, I’d just love to buy some of these for all my relatives and friends,” said Martha, hanging longingly over a tray of sparkling amethysts.“I’m going to get a pin for Mother,” said Nancy; “but I’m afraid that will be the extent of my purchases.”“I thought we were going to get something for Madelon, as you call her,” said Martha.“Yes, we were—or rather, we are,” replied Jeanette. “Would one of these pendants be nice?”“Just the thing, I should say,” agreed Nancy. So they selected a dainty silver chain and a long slender pendant set with a single amethyst.“I’ve justgotto have it,” murmured Martha, presently.“Got to have what, Mart?” asked Jeanette.“That ring. Did you ever in all your life see such a beauty?”It was lovely—a dinner ring with an oblong amethyst of one of the deepest violet shades.“Well, why don’t you buy it then?” asked Nancy, a bit impatiently. She was restless, and eager now to move on.“I can’t quite make up my mind. It’s quite expensive and yet I do want it so much.”“Well, think it over, Mart,” suggested Jeanette, “and come back here this afternoon if you decide you can’t get along without it.”“I heard that there are wonderful bargains in sweaters here,” said Martha, as they went out upon the street again; “and I’d like to find them.”After a little search, they found the shop where woolens of all kinds were sold, and Martha went into raptures over the various articles.“I’m going to get that doll for Ellen Harris, and this scarf for Betty——“Do you think that is really wise?” interrupted Jeanette.“What?”“Taking presents to those children?”“Why not?”“If it were only this once, it might not matter so much; but don’t you see that you will be creating a precedent? Like all children, and some grown-ups, they will then look for souvenirs every time you or any of us go away in the future. One can’t always be bringing things, and yet, naturally, you hate to disappoint children.”“Maybe you’re right,” said Martha slowly. “But the thingsaredarling.”“Nancy and I decided when we first began to go on trips that we’d each take our mother some little gift, but no one else. Wholesale buying of souvenirs is very expensive, and sometimes is the cause of much jealousy and dissatisfaction. There is no good stopping place, once you have begun. If you really want to buy any of these things for friends, I would suggest that you get them as Christmas gifts. Lots of people buy their gifts when on their vacations.”“Well, I don’t know about buying Christmas gifts as early as this,” said Martha, after thinking a minute; “but anyhow I’m going to get a sweater for myself. This rose one is lovely. Don’t you think so?”“It is sweet,” said Jeanette; “but would it go with everything?”“Always the careful shopper, Janie,” laughed Nancy.“I suppose it wouldn’t go with everything,” admitted Martha, putting it hack reluctantly. “I’ll take this tan one, I guess. That gray and violet I’ll buy for Mother. And I’ve always taken something to Christine, the girl I pal around with at home. I’ll buy the powder blue one for her.”While the purchases were being wrapped up, Martha was looking over more sweaters; and Nancy heard her murmur to herself.“Whatareyou saying, Mart?” she asked. “You know it’s a bad sign, they say, when you begin talking to yourself.”“I was just thinking that scarlet sweater would be exactly the thing I need for skating this winter. I think I’ll take that one too,” pointing it out to the clerk.“For pity’s sake, let’s get her out of here,” whispered Nancy to Jeanette; “or she’ll have to walk home.”“And won’t we even get the things for Joey?” asked Martha, when they were on the street again, loath to bring to a close the shopping expedition which she so dearly loved.“Oh, we’ll each get some simple amusing toy for him. Nobody would question our remembering a sick child.”They stopped in another shop and selected a game, a puzzle, and a new collar for Rollo; and then they went on for a walk through the residential section of the town.“Did you everseesuch flower gardens?” asked Jeanette, entranced.“Or such climbing roses?” added Nancy, pointing out a house where, on trellises at either side of the front door, with its brass knocker, red roses ran to the very roof.“These beautifully trimmed hedges of English hawthorne attract me,” said Martha. “Imagine them when they are covered with deep rose-colored blossoms!”“The guidebook says Yarmouth is famous for rose gardens, velvet-green lawns, and well-trimmed hedge rows,” said Jeanette. “Years ago it was also famous for shipbuilding, and the ships made here went all over the world. Now it is the principal port for passenger and freight service between Nova Scotia and the United States.”“Oh, look at those darling colored children,” cried Martha. “I must get a picture of them.” They stood waiting, while the oldest girl pulled, pushed, and coaxed the younger children into a straight line; smoothed their fuzzy hair, and their clothing, joined their hands, and then took her place at the head of the row.“Do you know that it is nearly lunch time?” asked Nancy, as Martha lingered to visit with the children.“That’s so! How the morning has flown! We’ll have to run so as not to keep Miss Ashton waiting. Come on!” And clutching them by the arms, Martha started toward the hotel at a very rapid pace.“Martha,” objected Jeanette, “do slow up a bit. They don’t dash around here the way we do down in the States. People will think we are crazy, or going to a fire or something.”“We are going to something,” laughed Martha, slackening her speed, “our lunch. Some more clams, Janie, now that you know how to eat them!”“Never!”“Now I suppose we shall have to pack,” groaned Martha, as they left the dining room after lunch. “That’s the only part of a trip that I don’t like.”“I want to consult you girls,” said Miss Ashton. “Will you come in here, please?” entering the white parlor on the opposite side of the hall.“I wonder what has happened,” thought Jeanette anxiously; for their chaperon looked very serious.“One of my letters yesterday,” began Miss Ashton, when they were seated before the fireplace in the attractive room with its white woodwork and blue upholstered furniture, “told me that I shall not have to report on a new case for another two weeks. This place seems to be very healthful and pleasant, and I wondered if you would mind canceling our sailing reservations for to-night and staying on a few days longer——”“Mind!” exclaimed Martha and Jeanette together.Nancy said nothing at all, but her eyes shone.“I shall devote the time to rest; for I expect to have a rather heavy, busy season. Do you think you can find enough amusement by yourselves to keep from being bored?”“Of course we can,” replied Jeanette. “I, for one, love to ramble about a strange place; and I know Nan does too.”“I’ll hire a car, I think, and practice; so I can take my test as soon as we go home,” announced Martha.“Are you learning to drive?” asked Nancy in surprise, finding her tongue at last.“Oh, yes; I meant to surprise you, but the ‘cat’s out of the bag now.’ I’ve had an awfully funny time so far,” and Martha paused to laugh.“Go on; tell us about it,” requested Miss Ashton, relieved at finding the girls so agreeable about the proposed change of plan.“Well, I decided that I’d be quite independent and go to a driving school and learn properly. So I enrolled, and I nearly laughed myself sick at the first lesson.“I found myself in a little room—the ‘driving school’—and there, across the bay window, was the body of an ancient machine, set up on blocks of wood. At the opposite end of the room was a display of ‘ladies’ dresses at $1, $2 and $3 presided over by a fat, elderly woman. She also sold fancy articles—very fancy. A young fellow of twenty-three or four, the son of the fat lady, as it developed, was the instructor. He gave me a few directions, indicating, with the flourish of a pointer at some diagrams on a blackboard facing the ‘car,’ the position of the various gears, and what happened if you ‘stripped them.’ Then he had me climb into the car and learn to start, and stop. Shifting was the difficult thing; and, to make things worse, the clutch pedal stuck. I never felt so utterly silly in my life. He’d say, ‘Now we’re coming’ to a red light. Down with your two feet, and say, don’t forget to put your hand out.’ And I’d stop the already motionless car. ‘Now the lights are green,’ he’d say. ‘Let out your clutch and give her gas; throw in your clutch and shift into second; give her a little start; now throw out your clutch and shift into high; and drive on.’ And on I’d go, in the same spot. ‘Now you’re making a left turn. Stretch out your hand; Straighten your wheel! straighten your wheel!’ and I would madly tug at the wheel, after making the motions as directed. It was a scream but Ididlearn the shifting operations.“The second lesson, I was to take on the road; and his mother went along, evidently as chaperon. She called in a neighbor to take care of the ‘shoppe.’ I have an idea that from what she observed in the school she thought my lesson would be too good to miss. I think the boy knew his machine, and probably knew how to instruct green drivers; but, as I learned afterwards, he had just had an accident, and his nerves were ragged. And that day he did nothing but holler at me; and the more he hollered, the more stupid I became. ‘Don’t you see what you went and done there?’ he’d demand. ‘You almost took his wheel off.’ Or, ‘That was an awful way to turn a corner,’ to which the chaperon would contribute, ‘I’llsay it was!’“After making many corrections, he finally complimented me: ‘You done fine in the school; but you’re awful at steering. I never saw anyone do so bad.’“I kept getting madder and madder, and finally I stopped the car with a jerk which nearly threw Jake on his nose, and his mamma on our backs, and said just as emphatically as I could: ‘Now see here, I’m not used to being yelled at like this byanybody, least of all someone I’m paying. You can justcut it outright now, or I’ll stop taking lessons immediately.’ Jake stared at me blankly for a minute, and then tried to bluster, ‘Say, don’t you like my teachin’?’“‘It has nothing to do with your teaching,’ I said; ‘but I won’t let you yell at me. So that’s that!’“After that, he behaved quite like a human being, and didn’t even do more than feebly remonstrate when, one day, I ran over a traffic officer’s foot——”“Ran over a traffic officer’s foot!” exclaimed Miss Ashton, while the other two girls doubled up with laughter.“Yes, he stopped me just as I was going to turn into a one-way street, and in twisting the car around so as to keep on straight ahead, his foot got in the way and I ran over it——”“But Mart,” gasped Jeanette, “what did he do?”“What could he do? He was peeved, of course; but it was his own fault for keeping his old foot too near my wheels.”“Peeved—” began Nancy, but she could get no farther.“But Martha,” protested Miss Ashton, “wasn’t the man hurt?”“Not much, I guess, except his temper. It was just the edge of his foot, not the whole top of it.”“I—never—heard—anything—quite—so funny,” stammered Nancy.“Mart,” said Jeanette, when they had recovered from their spasm of mirth, “won’t you have to have a licensed driver in the car with you?”“I suppose so,” replied Martha slowly. “I never thought of that.”“You might send for Jake,” suggested Nancy, with a giggle; “but he would probably have to bring mamma with him.”“I’ll go with you sometimes,” said Miss Ashton. “I have my card here, and won’t want to rest all the time.”“That’s indeed awfully good of you,” said Martha gratefully. “I’ll hunt up a place to rent a car this very afternoon.”“Be careful not to get lost,” warned Jeanette.“She’ll be all right,” said Nancy, “as long as there is no fog.”“Somebody would bring me home,” said Martha carelessly.Then they all parted. Martha went in search of a car. Miss Ashton retired to her own room, well satisfied with the progress of her plan so far. Jeanette had a headache, and decided to try to sleep it off; and Nancy sat in the little park near the hotel, and just dreamed.“I hired a car,” announced Martha, when they gathered around the dinner table; “and it now rests in the hotel garage, awaiting the touch of my hand.”“And all you need now is a companion driver,” observed Nancy.“Well—I—I’ve——”“Hired one of those, too?” asked Jeanette.“Not actually hired,” corrected Martha; “sort of borrowed.”“Who is it?” asked Miss Ashton quickly.“Mr. Pierce.”“And who might he be?”“Why, the purser. Don’t you remember?”“Oh, you foul weather friend,” said Jeanette, laughing.“My friend in need, you mean.”“Well, you might give us an account of yourself,” suggested Miss Ashton.“I was coming up Main Street for the third time, hunting for the garage, after having asked several people where such an establishment was located, when I ran right into Mr. Pierce, figuratively and literally.“I had been looking in a window at——”“Don’t say they were sweaters,” groaned Nancy.“Or amethysts,” added Jeanette.“Just for that I won’t tell you what was in the window,” retorted Martha. “Anyhow, after I finished looking atthem, I turned away rather quickly, stepped on a pebble, turned on my ankle, and nearly fell. Someone grabbed me, and I looked up to see Mr. Pierce looking anxiously down at me. We were near that street which leads to the wharf; so with his help I limped down to the boat, and the ship’s doctor strapped my ankle for me. You are an observing crowd, I must say, not to have noticed all this plaster,” and Martha stuck out her foot to display the bandaging plainly visible through her thin stocking.“It was all right to do that; wasn’t it?” appealing to Miss Ashton. “My foot was swelling rapidly, and I did not know where to find any of the town doctors.”“It was perfectly all right,” Miss Ashton assured her.“Well,” Martha resumed, “the stewardess insisted upon getting me a cup of tea; and while I drank it I told Mr. Pierce how I happened to be wandering around this afternoon. He knew exactly the place I wanted, and as by that time I could walk perfectly well, we went in search of the garage. I selected a car, got in, and he drove it to the park over here; and there we sat and planned my driving practice. I don’t want you,” turning to Miss Ashton, “to think me ungrateful for your offer, or that I am simply passing it by; but I know you want to rest, and it is tiresome work sitting in with a beginner——”“Won’t it be terribly tiresome for Mr. Pierce?” asked Nancy gravely.“Don’t you bother about me,” said Miss Ashton. “I understand perfectly. But Martha, how can Mr. Pierce get away from the boat? Doesn’t he go back to Boston to-night?”“Well, you see, he has two weeks’ vacation. He had one week in Halifax, where his people live—that was how I ran across him there—and the other week is still coming to him. He can take it now, or later——”“And he’s going to take it now,” finished Nancy.“Any or all of you are perfectly welcome to sit in the back seat when I practice,” offered Martha generously.“Thanks,somuch,” said Nancy.Miss Ashton, who had seen the two in the park that afternoon, when she was on her way to the steamer to cancel her reservations, had made a few careful inquiries as to the character of the young man, and had been perfectly satisfied with what she had found out. So she made no objections to Martha’s going about with him.“Well, don’t go too far away; that’s all, Martha,” she said; “and be very careful; for some of the native drivers here still keep to the left of the road. It is very confusing to one accustomed to the right side.”
CHAPTER VIII
IN THE MAIL
“Be ready at two thirty for a trip to Lower Woods Harbor, please,” said Jim, as they left the bus; adding in an undertone to Nancy, “our last ride together.”
“It is hard to realize that,” she replied softly. “It seems as if we were just going on and on in this bus for the rest of the summer.”
“We’ll probably find some letters here,” said Miss Ashton, as she went toward the desk in the lobby.
“I hope so,” replied Jeanette. “It seems perfect ages since we left home.”
“Homesick, Janie?” inquired Martha.
“Oh, no; only I do love to get mail; and it seemed queer to be without it all this time.”
“Well, here’s plenty of it,” said Miss Ashton, distributing it rapidly. “Two for Jeanette, three for Martha, five for Nancy, and four for myself.”
“Let’s go somewhere and read it all; so we can exchange news,” proposed Martha.
“A very good idea. That ‘somewhere’ might just as well be one of our rooms,” agreed Miss Ashton, leading the way to the elevator, to which a bell boy had already preceded them with the luggage. They got off at the third floor, where two rooms had been reserved for them. They were a bit disappointed to find that they were not connecting; one, a small room, was near the end of the corridor; the other, much larger, was near the stairs.
“My goodness,” exclaimed Martha, as they entered the larger one. “You could give a dance here!”
A huge double bed near the fireplace, a single beside the two long windows (from which they could see the wharf), a big wardrobe, an immense dresser, a fair-sized square table and three chairs only partly filled the old-fashioned room; and its very high ceilings accentuated its huge proportions.
“You could take the single bed if you wanted to, Mart,” proposed Nancy; “and give Miss Ashton a chance to get a little real sleep. You see, we know how restless she is at night, as well as by day,” she added to Miss Ashton.
“Fix it up any way to suit yourselves,” she replied; “and that will please me. Now for our mail.”
For several minutes there was no sound except the opening of envelopes and the turning of pages. When everyone had read all her communications, they began to exchange bits of information.
“One of mine,” said Miss Ashton, “is from Madelon. Her foster mother is still confined to her bed, and she has no idea when she will be able to come back to Boston.”
“What a shame!” cried Nancy.
“Poor Madelon!” said Jeanette softly. “She must feel terribly lonely up there now, after having lived in a city like Boston.”
“I don’t know her at all,” said Martha; “but let’s all get her some little thing and mail to her at different times.”
“That is a very nice idea,” approved Miss Ashton. “She said to tell you girls how much she regretted being unable to show you Boston, which she likes so well. The rest of my letters are from old or prospective patients, and would not interest you particularly.”
“One of mine,” said Jeanette, “is from home. Mother spent Monday with your mother, Nan, and she said Polly kept calling, ‘Where is Nancy?’ She seemed to think Mother should know. My other letter is from Mrs. Perkins, and encloses one from Joey. Wait. I’ll read them both to you. Mrs. Perkins says:
“‘I was so glad to get your card, and to know that you and your special pals were going to have such a delightful trip. Nova Scotia is a place I always thought I should like to see. Perhaps if your reports of it are enticing, I may yet visit it some day. When you come back to college, you might give us a travel talk; and, by the way, there might be a surprise here awaiting your return. Don’t write and ask me what it is; for I shall not tell you.Thatwould spoil the surprise.“‘The Harris family is getting along very well. One of Pauline’s office friends invited her to go on a vacation trip to Toronto, for both of them happened to get the same two weeks. The other girl’s people live there; so it was a question simply of the fare for Pauline; and that was managed quite nicely——’”
“‘I was so glad to get your card, and to know that you and your special pals were going to have such a delightful trip. Nova Scotia is a place I always thought I should like to see. Perhaps if your reports of it are enticing, I may yet visit it some day. When you come back to college, you might give us a travel talk; and, by the way, there might be a surprise here awaiting your return. Don’t write and ask me what it is; for I shall not tell you.Thatwould spoil the surprise.
“‘The Harris family is getting along very well. One of Pauline’s office friends invited her to go on a vacation trip to Toronto, for both of them happened to get the same two weeks. The other girl’s people live there; so it was a question simply of the fare for Pauline; and that was managed quite nicely——’”
“Which means that she supplied the money herself,” interrupted Nancy.
“‘Joey’” [continued Jeanette], “‘has been rather lonely this summer, in spite of all the attention lavished on him by the Harrises and the college people who live in town. He misses, I think, the crowd and bustle of college life. I enclose a note from him.“‘Love to you and your pals,“‘Alicia Perkins.’”
“‘Joey’” [continued Jeanette], “‘has been rather lonely this summer, in spite of all the attention lavished on him by the Harrises and the college people who live in town. He misses, I think, the crowd and bustle of college life. I enclose a note from him.
“‘Love to you and your pals,“‘Alicia Perkins.’”
“And here is Joey’s note,” she went on; “of course the spelling is superb, so you had better read it for yourselves.” She passed it on, and they all read:
“Dee Mis Janete, Hop you ar havin a fin time but com bac soon THanks fur the cards Rollo sends lov.“Joey.”
“Dee Mis Janete, Hop you ar havin a fin time but com bac soon THanks fur the cards Rollo sends lov.
“Joey.”
“And who, pray, is Joey?” inquired Miss Ashton.
“Oh, we forgot,” cried Nancy. “You don’t know anything about Joey, or Mrs. Perkins either; do you?”
All three of the girls tried to explain at once; so Miss Ashton had to exercise her imagination in spots to piece together the disjointed, interrupted bits of information about the little crippled boy who belonged to one of the college janitors, and had been taken up by the students as a sort of protégé; and of the fine Mrs. Perkins who was a member of the girls’ club for helping others.
“Poor little fellow,” she said, when the trio had finished. “Seems to me he should have some simple lessons to help occupy him, as well as to develop his mind.”
“Perhaps when we go back, he will be able to,” replied Jeanette thoughtfully. “He really wasn’t well enough for anything but play last year. Some days even that was too much of an exertion.”
“Now, Nannie,” said Martha. “What news have you to contribute?”
“The first letter I read was from Mother,” said Nancy. “Dad has bought a dog—a big collie, which they have named Peter; and Polly just can’t bear him.He, however, is quite curious abouther, and frequently stands for some minutes in front of the cage, gazing at her, undisturbed apparently by her shrieks of rage and uncomplimentary remarks.
“Mother has been dividing her spare time, since we left, between instructing a new maid, and sewing for a family whose house and belongings were badly damaged by fire. She says she has been a regular pest to the neighbors because she has asked all of them for cast-off clothing and furniture. Her struggles with the maid must be very funny; for she can’t speak a word of Italian, nor the girl a syllable of English. She tried to explain to Benita the other day that the floors in the bedrooms must be gone over with the dust mop every day, and showed her how the lint gathered under the beds where there were a couple of pairs of slippers. The next morning after the upstairs work was finished, Mother was horrified to find her slippers set carefully on her lovely orchid rayon dresser spread! She learned from. Benita’s pantomime explanations that if the slippers were not kept under the bed there would be nothing to catch the dust. Now Mother puts all her footwear in the closet, where, she says, it really belongs after all. Mother hurt her ankle the other day (it was nothing serious, but she had to keep off of it for a day); and she sent Benita out to get the mail, from the box. She tried by gesticulations to get her to understand what she wanted; but from the noise on the porch she wondered what on earth Benita was doing. It seems that our maid is quite a muscular person; for what do you suppose she did? She got the wrong idea from Mother’s motions about taking something out of a box, and actually ripped the flower box off the railing of the porch and brought it in! Mother is surely having some fun, but I imagine it is rather trying. That is about all of interest in her letter.”
“And the second one?” urged Martha.
“That is from Uncle John. They have added a sun parlor to the house, Janie, on the south side, you know, near the fence where the lizards sun themselves——”
“Lizards, ugh!” shuddered Martha.
“Oh, Mart, you wouldn’t mind them. They are dear little things, some of them quite tame.”
“No recommendations at all to my way of thinking,” retorted Martha. “The wilder the better, I should say, if being wild makes them keep away from me.”
“What else did the Doctor say?” inquired Jeanette, who was very fond of Nancy’s uncle.
“He saw Madame the other day; in fact, she invited them over for dinner. She told him that she is considering getting a companion. Her husband is so occupied with some kind of writing that he is doing, that she is left alone a great deal of the time; and she would like a young girl who would liven up the house a bit. She says that she would be prepare to treat the right kind of a girl like a daughter, entertain for her, and all that. She wanted to know if Uncle could recommend anyone. He did not know of any possibilities, but promised to keep his eyes open.”
“Pauline!” cried Jeanette.
“Janie, you’re a genius! I wonder if she would go!” exclaimed Nancy. “I’ll write Uncle to-night, and tell him all about her.”
“And the third epistle?” teased Martha, who had seen an envelope addressed in a masculine hand.
“That’s from Curtis,” replied Nancy, without a trace of self-consciousness or embarrassment. “He has been sent out to Portland.”
“Maine?” asked Martha, hopefully. “That’s isn’t so far from here. We might stop over on the way home.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, dear,” answered Nancy, sweetly, “but I saidoutnotup, for the Portland in question happens to be in Oregon.”
“‘Now that’s too bad! That’s just too bad!’” sighed Martha.
Everybody laughed; for they had all recently seen “On with the Show” and recognized the quotation at once.
“Curtis wrote only a note; for he had just arrived, and had not yet seen anything interesting. This other letter,” she continued, “is from Phil Spenser.”
“Oh, are he and Tom going to meet us in Boston as they spoke of doing?” asked Jeanette.
“Time alone can tell,” replied Nancy.
“They started out in Tom’s old Ford coupe, intending to take in quite a part of the Adirondacks on the way. Thinking to make better time, or merely for the experience, I don’t know which, they drove all one night, instead of putting up anywhere. They made a wrong turn at some point or other, which took them off the main highway onto a very deserted road, where they were held up by a couple of armed men——”
“How perfectlythrilling!” cried Martha.
“Who relieved them of all their money, their watches, etc., punctured all the tires, and then rode off in their own little car. The boys stayed there until morning, and then got a passing motorist from the highway to tow them to the nearest garage. They had no money to pay for repairs; so made arrangements with the garage owner to stay and work out their bill. They worked there for a week, and then started on, almost penniless, for Lake Placid——”
“But why didn’t they send home for some money?” demanded Martha.
“Because Tom had taken with him all he could afford to spend on vacation, and Mr. Spenser, under protest, had furnished Phil with a like amount.”
“I thought the Spensers had quite a lot of money,” said Jeanette.
“They have, I believe; but Mr. Spenser thinks Phil should earn what he wants to spend on pleasure. Phil says his dad was quite annoyed because he preferred going off with Tom to working all the rest of the summer in the Electric Company’s office. I imagine it was only the fact that Tom begged for Phil’s company that made Mr. Spenser consent at all. He feels that Tom has rather a good effect on Phil, I understand. But, to go on with the story—they tried all the hotels to see if they could get jobs, and finally found one where one of the elevator boys had just been sent to the hospital; so Tom was taken on as a sub. After some more wandering about, Phil found a place with an old man who has a farm a little way up the lake, and who supplies the hotels with chickens and eggs. He used to deliver his wares himself in an old-fashioned buggy; but that method is too slow now. He bought a Ford truck, and then discovered that he couldn’t learn to run it. Phil fortunately appeared on the scene at that particular moment, and was hired at once.”
“Just imagine,” cried Martha, “the superior Phil Spenser driving up to those big hotels with a load of chickens and eggs. It’s the funniest thing I have ever heard!”
“So that is what they are doing now,” concluded Nancy; “and their meeting us all depends on whether they can earn enough money before we go home.”
She picked up another letter. “This,” she said, “is from Ethel King——”
“Oh,whatdoes she say about Emma?” inquired Jeanette eagerly.
“I’ll read it to you.
“‘Dear Girls:“‘To say that I was pleasantly surprised when Emma stepped off the train at Plattsburg is to put it mildly. Her hair looks just fine, and her pride in her new bob is very funny. She keeps patting it, and feeling of it to see if it is still there. Later on she’ll have to be broken of that. However, Marian will teach, or try to teach, her repose of manner. Did you ever seeanybody practice it so perfectly as our “Mary Ann”? She never touches her clothing or herself, or anything at all, in fact, unnecessarily. I understand that her mother is painfully neat and particular—(what a jolt poor Emma will give her!)—and I suppose Marian took her ways quite naturally, or was trained into them.“‘Emma’s wardrobe is perfect, and she really takes pains to keep her things nice. I suspect that was some of Jeanette’s good work. Her manners, too, are greatly improved, and she does not hang onto one’s waist or neck quite so persistently as of yore.“‘You will want to know, I suppose, what little Ethel did for her. Well, Mother and I talked things over beforehand—for, of course, I had to confide in her—and we decided to teach our mutual friend the joys of athletic exercise. We get the morning setting-up series over the radio; so the very first day I routed her out and made her do them with me; and ditto the rest of the days. Twice a day we went into the water, and Emma learned to swim a little. We went for tramps through the woods, and along the shore; and had picnic suppers. In fact, as I said, outdoor exercise was the theme of our entertainment. At the end of the week, Emma really had a little color, and had straightened up considerably.“‘Esther expected to interest her in gym work when she went to Moore’s; so I imagine when we see Emma again she will have lost that distressing stoop, and rounded shoulders. I’m really very anxious to see what the entire summer will do for her. I can’t help thinking, though, that whatever does come out of it, the most credit should go to you two. The start you gave her in those two weeks was incredible. But all the C.M.’s are so different, and ride such diverse hobbies, that the composite result should be at least interesting, if not inspiring.“‘Do run up here, if you can, before the summer is over, any or all of you. Love,“‘Ethel’”
“‘Dear Girls:
“‘To say that I was pleasantly surprised when Emma stepped off the train at Plattsburg is to put it mildly. Her hair looks just fine, and her pride in her new bob is very funny. She keeps patting it, and feeling of it to see if it is still there. Later on she’ll have to be broken of that. However, Marian will teach, or try to teach, her repose of manner. Did you ever seeanybody practice it so perfectly as our “Mary Ann”? She never touches her clothing or herself, or anything at all, in fact, unnecessarily. I understand that her mother is painfully neat and particular—(what a jolt poor Emma will give her!)—and I suppose Marian took her ways quite naturally, or was trained into them.
“‘Emma’s wardrobe is perfect, and she really takes pains to keep her things nice. I suspect that was some of Jeanette’s good work. Her manners, too, are greatly improved, and she does not hang onto one’s waist or neck quite so persistently as of yore.
“‘You will want to know, I suppose, what little Ethel did for her. Well, Mother and I talked things over beforehand—for, of course, I had to confide in her—and we decided to teach our mutual friend the joys of athletic exercise. We get the morning setting-up series over the radio; so the very first day I routed her out and made her do them with me; and ditto the rest of the days. Twice a day we went into the water, and Emma learned to swim a little. We went for tramps through the woods, and along the shore; and had picnic suppers. In fact, as I said, outdoor exercise was the theme of our entertainment. At the end of the week, Emma really had a little color, and had straightened up considerably.
“‘Esther expected to interest her in gym work when she went to Moore’s; so I imagine when we see Emma again she will have lost that distressing stoop, and rounded shoulders. I’m really very anxious to see what the entire summer will do for her. I can’t help thinking, though, that whatever does come out of it, the most credit should go to you two. The start you gave her in those two weeks was incredible. But all the C.M.’s are so different, and ride such diverse hobbies, that the composite result should be at least interesting, if not inspiring.
“‘Do run up here, if you can, before the summer is over, any or all of you. Love,
“‘Ethel’”
“What might be wrong with this Emma!” asked Miss Ashton, and again the three all enlightened her at once.
“Glad you are being such friends in need,” was her brief comment, when they had finished. “And now let’s get ready for lunch.”
“Clams,” read Jeanette from the menu, when they were seated at the table. “I never ate any, but I understand they’re very popular here.”
“No time like the present,” suggested Nancy a bit absently, her eyes roving about the dining room.
“But I shouldn’t know how to eat them,” said Jeanette, wavering between her desire to taste a new food, and reluctance to appear awkward in such a public place.
“I’ll show you,” offered Martha.
“Do you really know how?” asked Jeanette, a bit doubtfully.
“Of course I do. I went to a couple of clam bakes last summer.”
When a cup of melted butter, another of hot water, and a big dish of steaming clams were set before her, Jeanette looked really frightened.
“Oh, I shouldn’t have ordered them. I don’t know what to do first.”
“You open them this way,” said Martha, demonstrating them as she talked; “pull off this piece, which I always called its ear——”
“Why?” asked Jeanette, watching anxiously.
“Because that part is not good. Then dip the clam into water, to wash the sand out, then in the melted butter, and then swallow it.”
“You take it in your fingers?” asked Jeanette in horrified tones.
“Of course.”
“Are yousure?”
“Why, yes. Go ahead, and don’t be silly!”
Slowly and awkwardly, Jeanette repeated the processes which Martha had demonstrated.
“Everybody is looking at me,” she said, flushing hotly.
“Everybody is far too interested in his own lunch to bother looking at you,” Miss Ashton assured her.
“I’m afraid this isn’t the right way to do it,” protested Jeanette, over the third clam. “It seems so sort of messy.”
“I certainly would have no object in deceiving you,” retorted Martha, a bit tartly. “That man at the next table just got some. Watch him and see what he does.”
Rather to Jeanette’s surprise, and to Martha’s complete satisfaction, their neighbor employed the same method.
“You’re right, Mart,” admitted Jeanette. “I don’t mean that I actually doubted your word; but, as I said, the process is so unattractive.”
“I agree with you,” said Nancy. “Someone ought to invent a more gracefully way of handling them.”
“Someone ought to invent a means of keeping the time from passing so quickly,” observed Miss Ashton. “We are due in the bus in ten minutes.”
A light fog was beginning to be seen and felt as they took their old places in the bus.
“Couldn’t you have ordered a better afternoon?” asked Martha saucily of Jim as they left the hotel behind. “And don’t forget that you promised to show us some ox teams to-day. In fact, you told us we’d see a lot yesterday, and not even one appeared.”
“I’ll do my best,” was Jim’s brief reply. He was not much of a talker at any time, except when his work required it; but this afternoon he was more quiet than ever before. Nancy, too, was strangely silent.
The country through which they were riding was sterner, more rugged than any they had yet seen; now rocky shores, rolling stony pastures, few houses, bleak strips of beach seen through a heavy mist, with white billows of fog in the background ready to roll in upon the land at any minute and envelop everything in its baffling embrace.
“Here comes your ox team, Mart,” said Jeanette presently, as they saw in the near distance a team pulling a long low wagon loaded with stone.
Jim good-naturedly stopped the bus and let the girls get out to take a picture of the animals at a watering trough where they paused for a drink.
“Why, they have no harness,” said Jeanette, “only that heavy wooden yoke laid across their necks and binding their heads together. How do you guide them?” she asked of the driver.
“With this small whip, Miss, and my directions,” replied the man.
“Poor things!” said Nancy, after they had climbed back into the bus again. “They look so sad, and lumber along so bent down that it really is depressing. The expression in their eyes is truly pathetic. I almost wish I hadn’t gotten out to look at them.”
The girls laughed, but Jim looked down understandingly at Nancy. Jim, who slowed down the big bus to almost a standstill if even a chicken crossed the road in front of it!
“These people,” he said, after a moment, “are very proud of their fine oxen, and take pains to have them perfectly matched. If one of a team happens to die, they travel all over the country, if need be, to find an exact match for the survivor.”
“Why do they prefer them to horses, I wonder,” said Miss Ashton.
“Because they are cheaper to feed. They are peculiar to Nova Scotia; for nowhere else in Canada are they still used.”
The fog billows gathered themselves together, and rolled along the surface of the water, closer and closer to the land.
“What are those?” asked Nancy, pointing to a stack of crate-like objects near a fisherman’s hut.
“Lobster pots,” said Jim; “and that pile of stakes with the ball-like colored tops are markers.”
At the next pile, which happened to be close beside the road, he stopped and got out; and they all followed him to see what the strange looking cages were really like.
The base of the pot was rectangular in shape, and between two and three feet long, and a foot and a half wide. It was made of narrow strips of wood; and the sides and top were formed, in a semicircle, of similar narrow strips bent and fastened to the base, into which some flat stones are wedged to give weight, and help sink them. The trap is lined with coarse net, and openings are left at the side and ends, with the net so arranged that the lobsters can get in, but once in, cannot get out. The box-like cage is let down in the water where lobsters are known to be plentiful, and a marker is set up beside it. The lobster is so full of curiosity that he crawls into the trap, but finds it more difficult to get out again. Some of the pots are so constructed as to catch four lobsters at one time.
“You will notice,” said Jim, “that the markers are of different colors and combinations of color. Every fisherman in a section has his own, and no one else dares to touch the trap guarded by the markers of another.”
Jeanette had been busy pulling wild roses from the thicket beside which they were standing; and when they got back into the car, presented each person with a fragrant spray. Some of these sprays were carelessly thrown away as the flowers wilted; but two of them were carefully pressed and preserved for many years.
“Oh, what is going on here?” cried Martha, as they approached a small village.
Flags, large and small, the blue one of New Scotland, the Canadian maple leaf, the Union Jack, the tricolor of France all strung along the roadside; also on the houses, barns, trees, and even merely stuck into the ground. Even the tiniest, poorest cottage proudly flaunted its bit of loyalty. The grounds of the church were surrounded with conveyances of all types, from brand new Fords to muddy canopied surreys. Crowds of people were standing about the building, some setting up tables, some carrying chairs, some helping the tall young priest place the donations of food and fancy articles which would presently be sold. Between two trees stretched a banner of blue, bearing in white letters the words “Old Home Week.” For miles, the roads were dotted with men, women, and children of all ages, dressed in their best, hurrying eagerly along on foot to take part in the festival.
Jim prolonged the drive as much as possible, but at last it came to an end; and they drew up once more before the hotel.
“Well, my boy,” said Miss Ashton, “we have enjoyed the trip immensely, and are indeed sorry that it is over. Look me up when you get back to Boston, if you ever happen to feel like it. Here’s my card.”
“Thank you. Perhaps I shall. I live in Cambridge, but that’s only across the river, as you know.”
Jeanette and Martha then said good-by, and Jeanette considerately took Martha by the arm, and followed Miss Ashton into the hotel.
“And have you enjoyed it all?” asked Jim, when he and Nancy were left alone.
“Just wonderfully,” replied Nancy honestly. “The most of any trip I have ever taken.”
“I wish I had a stop-over here so I could show you the town; but I go back to Digby first thing in the morning, as soon as the boat comes in. Do you suppose you could go out to-night for a walk, or are you too tired?”
“I’ve done nothing to tire me,” said Nancy, smiling. “And I’m sure Miss Ashton won’t mind.”
“Then I’ll call for you at—say eight?”
“Yes; I’ll be all ready.”
They could not have told you where they walked that evening, nor what they said; but their conversation was entirely of themselves.
Nancy heard all about Jim’s parents, and his older brother; about his plans and hopes for the future; his experiences in prep school, and at college. She in turn told him all about herself and her friends.
“I wish I were going back on the boat with you to-morrow night,” he said, as they rested on the enclosed porch for a few minutes before parting for good.
“It would be very nice, if you could,” she said. “When do you expect to go back?”
“I have no idea. Whenever orders come. Well, you must get some sleep; for you’ll want to shop in the morning, I suspect. There are some stores here which I guess would interest girls.”
Reluctantly they rose, and stood silent for a moment.
“Will you write, Nancy?”
“Yes.”
Poor Jim! He could think of many things which he would like to say, but was too bashful, too repressed to put them into words.
They clasped hands; then Jim ran down the steps, turning to salute when he reached the sidewalk.
Nancy did not feel like joining the others just yet; so she selected a far corner of the nearly deserted writing room and began a letter to her mother. Miss Ashton peered in at her a couple of times, and then went upstairs again without disturbing her.
“Nan is writing,” she said to the other two girls. “I imagine she will be up after a while. I, for one, am going right to bed.”
She was as good as her word; but she lay for several hours, turning over an idea in her mind. When she had settled it to her satisfaction, and not until then, she fell asleep.
In the meantime Jeanette and Martha had also retired, and lay talking across the room.
“It seems to me,” said Martha, “that somebody has quite a case on somebody else.”
“Your statement is a trifle ambiguous,” laughed Jeanette, “but I know what you mean.”
“And don’t you think so, too?” persisted Martha.
“Yes, I do; but for pity’s sake don’t let Nan know that you notice it. She just hates any of what she calls ‘foolishness over the boys.’”
“That’s the funny part of it,” said Martha. “I don’t believe she realizes that Jim is just crazy about her.”
“Or that she cares for him,” added Jeanette, to herself.
“Do you?”
“No-o-o,” yawned Jeanette. “I’m terribly sleepy. Let’s settle down.”
It would be easier for Nancy if they were both asleep when she came up, and she could slip into bed without having to talk. Martha was soon breathing heavily; but Jeanette did not succeed in getting to sleep until long after Nancy came to bed.
CHAPTER IX
RAMBLES ABOUT YARMOUTH
“What are we to do to-day?” asked Martha at the breakfast table.
“Shop, and see the town,” suggested Jeanette.
“Suits me,” said Nancy, when they all waited for her comments. Just a few minutes before, she had heard the whistle of a boat from the wharf. The steamer from Boston must have docked, and the big bus was down there now ready for a new cargo of passengers. What would this crowd be like? She wondered.
“I have some letters to write; so I’ll have to be excused,” said Miss Ashton. “If I finish in time, I may hunt you up; if not, we’ll all meet here at lunch time.”
An hour later, the three girls were strolling along the main street, stopping in various stores to look at the goods most attractively displayed.
“I could spend a day in there,” said Nancy, as they left a stationer’s store, where English books and magazines invited one to browse.
“It’s funny, I suppose; but I never thought of their having different magazines from ours,” said Martha.
“I know. It gives one a kind of a start to look at the display, and not see a name one recognizes,” remarked Jeanette.
“I’d love to read them all, and compare them with similar publications of ours,” said Nancy.
“We might buy Joey one of those books for small boys,” suggested Jeanette.
“That’s so,” and Nancy darted back into the store to select one.
When she came out, they wandered on again until they came to a shop where all kinds of gifts were sold.
“Don’t you think it would be nice,” said Jeanette, “if we were all to put together and get some little souvenir for Miss Ashton? It need not be very expensive, but something that she could keep as a memento of this trip.”
“I think that would be fine,” agreed Nancy. “She has been just wonderful to us.”
“So do I,” added Martha. “What shall we get?”
They were inside now, and gazing helplessly at the fascinating array.
“One of these water colors of Nova Scotian scenery,” suggested Jeanette, picking one up as she spoke.
When there were three to be suited, and each picture they looked at was more beautiful than the last, the process of making a decision was a lengthy one. At last, however, it was accomplished to everyone’s satisfaction; and to the relief of the clerk.
“Dear, I’d just love to buy some of these for all my relatives and friends,” said Martha, hanging longingly over a tray of sparkling amethysts.
“I’m going to get a pin for Mother,” said Nancy; “but I’m afraid that will be the extent of my purchases.”
“I thought we were going to get something for Madelon, as you call her,” said Martha.
“Yes, we were—or rather, we are,” replied Jeanette. “Would one of these pendants be nice?”
“Just the thing, I should say,” agreed Nancy. So they selected a dainty silver chain and a long slender pendant set with a single amethyst.
“I’ve justgotto have it,” murmured Martha, presently.
“Got to have what, Mart?” asked Jeanette.
“That ring. Did you ever in all your life see such a beauty?”
It was lovely—a dinner ring with an oblong amethyst of one of the deepest violet shades.
“Well, why don’t you buy it then?” asked Nancy, a bit impatiently. She was restless, and eager now to move on.
“I can’t quite make up my mind. It’s quite expensive and yet I do want it so much.”
“Well, think it over, Mart,” suggested Jeanette, “and come back here this afternoon if you decide you can’t get along without it.”
“I heard that there are wonderful bargains in sweaters here,” said Martha, as they went out upon the street again; “and I’d like to find them.”
After a little search, they found the shop where woolens of all kinds were sold, and Martha went into raptures over the various articles.
“I’m going to get that doll for Ellen Harris, and this scarf for Betty——
“Do you think that is really wise?” interrupted Jeanette.
“What?”
“Taking presents to those children?”
“Why not?”
“If it were only this once, it might not matter so much; but don’t you see that you will be creating a precedent? Like all children, and some grown-ups, they will then look for souvenirs every time you or any of us go away in the future. One can’t always be bringing things, and yet, naturally, you hate to disappoint children.”
“Maybe you’re right,” said Martha slowly. “But the thingsaredarling.”
“Nancy and I decided when we first began to go on trips that we’d each take our mother some little gift, but no one else. Wholesale buying of souvenirs is very expensive, and sometimes is the cause of much jealousy and dissatisfaction. There is no good stopping place, once you have begun. If you really want to buy any of these things for friends, I would suggest that you get them as Christmas gifts. Lots of people buy their gifts when on their vacations.”
“Well, I don’t know about buying Christmas gifts as early as this,” said Martha, after thinking a minute; “but anyhow I’m going to get a sweater for myself. This rose one is lovely. Don’t you think so?”
“It is sweet,” said Jeanette; “but would it go with everything?”
“Always the careful shopper, Janie,” laughed Nancy.
“I suppose it wouldn’t go with everything,” admitted Martha, putting it hack reluctantly. “I’ll take this tan one, I guess. That gray and violet I’ll buy for Mother. And I’ve always taken something to Christine, the girl I pal around with at home. I’ll buy the powder blue one for her.”
While the purchases were being wrapped up, Martha was looking over more sweaters; and Nancy heard her murmur to herself.
“Whatareyou saying, Mart?” she asked. “You know it’s a bad sign, they say, when you begin talking to yourself.”
“I was just thinking that scarlet sweater would be exactly the thing I need for skating this winter. I think I’ll take that one too,” pointing it out to the clerk.
“For pity’s sake, let’s get her out of here,” whispered Nancy to Jeanette; “or she’ll have to walk home.”
“And won’t we even get the things for Joey?” asked Martha, when they were on the street again, loath to bring to a close the shopping expedition which she so dearly loved.
“Oh, we’ll each get some simple amusing toy for him. Nobody would question our remembering a sick child.”
They stopped in another shop and selected a game, a puzzle, and a new collar for Rollo; and then they went on for a walk through the residential section of the town.
“Did you everseesuch flower gardens?” asked Jeanette, entranced.
“Or such climbing roses?” added Nancy, pointing out a house where, on trellises at either side of the front door, with its brass knocker, red roses ran to the very roof.
“These beautifully trimmed hedges of English hawthorne attract me,” said Martha. “Imagine them when they are covered with deep rose-colored blossoms!”
“The guidebook says Yarmouth is famous for rose gardens, velvet-green lawns, and well-trimmed hedge rows,” said Jeanette. “Years ago it was also famous for shipbuilding, and the ships made here went all over the world. Now it is the principal port for passenger and freight service between Nova Scotia and the United States.”
“Oh, look at those darling colored children,” cried Martha. “I must get a picture of them.” They stood waiting, while the oldest girl pulled, pushed, and coaxed the younger children into a straight line; smoothed their fuzzy hair, and their clothing, joined their hands, and then took her place at the head of the row.
“Do you know that it is nearly lunch time?” asked Nancy, as Martha lingered to visit with the children.
“That’s so! How the morning has flown! We’ll have to run so as not to keep Miss Ashton waiting. Come on!” And clutching them by the arms, Martha started toward the hotel at a very rapid pace.
“Martha,” objected Jeanette, “do slow up a bit. They don’t dash around here the way we do down in the States. People will think we are crazy, or going to a fire or something.”
“We are going to something,” laughed Martha, slackening her speed, “our lunch. Some more clams, Janie, now that you know how to eat them!”
“Never!”
“Now I suppose we shall have to pack,” groaned Martha, as they left the dining room after lunch. “That’s the only part of a trip that I don’t like.”
“I want to consult you girls,” said Miss Ashton. “Will you come in here, please?” entering the white parlor on the opposite side of the hall.
“I wonder what has happened,” thought Jeanette anxiously; for their chaperon looked very serious.
“One of my letters yesterday,” began Miss Ashton, when they were seated before the fireplace in the attractive room with its white woodwork and blue upholstered furniture, “told me that I shall not have to report on a new case for another two weeks. This place seems to be very healthful and pleasant, and I wondered if you would mind canceling our sailing reservations for to-night and staying on a few days longer——”
“Mind!” exclaimed Martha and Jeanette together.
Nancy said nothing at all, but her eyes shone.
“I shall devote the time to rest; for I expect to have a rather heavy, busy season. Do you think you can find enough amusement by yourselves to keep from being bored?”
“Of course we can,” replied Jeanette. “I, for one, love to ramble about a strange place; and I know Nan does too.”
“I’ll hire a car, I think, and practice; so I can take my test as soon as we go home,” announced Martha.
“Are you learning to drive?” asked Nancy in surprise, finding her tongue at last.
“Oh, yes; I meant to surprise you, but the ‘cat’s out of the bag now.’ I’ve had an awfully funny time so far,” and Martha paused to laugh.
“Go on; tell us about it,” requested Miss Ashton, relieved at finding the girls so agreeable about the proposed change of plan.
“Well, I decided that I’d be quite independent and go to a driving school and learn properly. So I enrolled, and I nearly laughed myself sick at the first lesson.
“I found myself in a little room—the ‘driving school’—and there, across the bay window, was the body of an ancient machine, set up on blocks of wood. At the opposite end of the room was a display of ‘ladies’ dresses at $1, $2 and $3 presided over by a fat, elderly woman. She also sold fancy articles—very fancy. A young fellow of twenty-three or four, the son of the fat lady, as it developed, was the instructor. He gave me a few directions, indicating, with the flourish of a pointer at some diagrams on a blackboard facing the ‘car,’ the position of the various gears, and what happened if you ‘stripped them.’ Then he had me climb into the car and learn to start, and stop. Shifting was the difficult thing; and, to make things worse, the clutch pedal stuck. I never felt so utterly silly in my life. He’d say, ‘Now we’re coming’ to a red light. Down with your two feet, and say, don’t forget to put your hand out.’ And I’d stop the already motionless car. ‘Now the lights are green,’ he’d say. ‘Let out your clutch and give her gas; throw in your clutch and shift into second; give her a little start; now throw out your clutch and shift into high; and drive on.’ And on I’d go, in the same spot. ‘Now you’re making a left turn. Stretch out your hand; Straighten your wheel! straighten your wheel!’ and I would madly tug at the wheel, after making the motions as directed. It was a scream but Ididlearn the shifting operations.
“The second lesson, I was to take on the road; and his mother went along, evidently as chaperon. She called in a neighbor to take care of the ‘shoppe.’ I have an idea that from what she observed in the school she thought my lesson would be too good to miss. I think the boy knew his machine, and probably knew how to instruct green drivers; but, as I learned afterwards, he had just had an accident, and his nerves were ragged. And that day he did nothing but holler at me; and the more he hollered, the more stupid I became. ‘Don’t you see what you went and done there?’ he’d demand. ‘You almost took his wheel off.’ Or, ‘That was an awful way to turn a corner,’ to which the chaperon would contribute, ‘I’llsay it was!’
“After making many corrections, he finally complimented me: ‘You done fine in the school; but you’re awful at steering. I never saw anyone do so bad.’
“I kept getting madder and madder, and finally I stopped the car with a jerk which nearly threw Jake on his nose, and his mamma on our backs, and said just as emphatically as I could: ‘Now see here, I’m not used to being yelled at like this byanybody, least of all someone I’m paying. You can justcut it outright now, or I’ll stop taking lessons immediately.’ Jake stared at me blankly for a minute, and then tried to bluster, ‘Say, don’t you like my teachin’?’
“‘It has nothing to do with your teaching,’ I said; ‘but I won’t let you yell at me. So that’s that!’
“After that, he behaved quite like a human being, and didn’t even do more than feebly remonstrate when, one day, I ran over a traffic officer’s foot——”
“Ran over a traffic officer’s foot!” exclaimed Miss Ashton, while the other two girls doubled up with laughter.
“Yes, he stopped me just as I was going to turn into a one-way street, and in twisting the car around so as to keep on straight ahead, his foot got in the way and I ran over it——”
“But Mart,” gasped Jeanette, “what did he do?”
“What could he do? He was peeved, of course; but it was his own fault for keeping his old foot too near my wheels.”
“Peeved—” began Nancy, but she could get no farther.
“But Martha,” protested Miss Ashton, “wasn’t the man hurt?”
“Not much, I guess, except his temper. It was just the edge of his foot, not the whole top of it.”
“I—never—heard—anything—quite—so funny,” stammered Nancy.
“Mart,” said Jeanette, when they had recovered from their spasm of mirth, “won’t you have to have a licensed driver in the car with you?”
“I suppose so,” replied Martha slowly. “I never thought of that.”
“You might send for Jake,” suggested Nancy, with a giggle; “but he would probably have to bring mamma with him.”
“I’ll go with you sometimes,” said Miss Ashton. “I have my card here, and won’t want to rest all the time.”
“That’s indeed awfully good of you,” said Martha gratefully. “I’ll hunt up a place to rent a car this very afternoon.”
“Be careful not to get lost,” warned Jeanette.
“She’ll be all right,” said Nancy, “as long as there is no fog.”
“Somebody would bring me home,” said Martha carelessly.
Then they all parted. Martha went in search of a car. Miss Ashton retired to her own room, well satisfied with the progress of her plan so far. Jeanette had a headache, and decided to try to sleep it off; and Nancy sat in the little park near the hotel, and just dreamed.
“I hired a car,” announced Martha, when they gathered around the dinner table; “and it now rests in the hotel garage, awaiting the touch of my hand.”
“And all you need now is a companion driver,” observed Nancy.
“Well—I—I’ve——”
“Hired one of those, too?” asked Jeanette.
“Not actually hired,” corrected Martha; “sort of borrowed.”
“Who is it?” asked Miss Ashton quickly.
“Mr. Pierce.”
“And who might he be?”
“Why, the purser. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, you foul weather friend,” said Jeanette, laughing.
“My friend in need, you mean.”
“Well, you might give us an account of yourself,” suggested Miss Ashton.
“I was coming up Main Street for the third time, hunting for the garage, after having asked several people where such an establishment was located, when I ran right into Mr. Pierce, figuratively and literally.
“I had been looking in a window at——”
“Don’t say they were sweaters,” groaned Nancy.
“Or amethysts,” added Jeanette.
“Just for that I won’t tell you what was in the window,” retorted Martha. “Anyhow, after I finished looking atthem, I turned away rather quickly, stepped on a pebble, turned on my ankle, and nearly fell. Someone grabbed me, and I looked up to see Mr. Pierce looking anxiously down at me. We were near that street which leads to the wharf; so with his help I limped down to the boat, and the ship’s doctor strapped my ankle for me. You are an observing crowd, I must say, not to have noticed all this plaster,” and Martha stuck out her foot to display the bandaging plainly visible through her thin stocking.
“It was all right to do that; wasn’t it?” appealing to Miss Ashton. “My foot was swelling rapidly, and I did not know where to find any of the town doctors.”
“It was perfectly all right,” Miss Ashton assured her.
“Well,” Martha resumed, “the stewardess insisted upon getting me a cup of tea; and while I drank it I told Mr. Pierce how I happened to be wandering around this afternoon. He knew exactly the place I wanted, and as by that time I could walk perfectly well, we went in search of the garage. I selected a car, got in, and he drove it to the park over here; and there we sat and planned my driving practice. I don’t want you,” turning to Miss Ashton, “to think me ungrateful for your offer, or that I am simply passing it by; but I know you want to rest, and it is tiresome work sitting in with a beginner——”
“Won’t it be terribly tiresome for Mr. Pierce?” asked Nancy gravely.
“Don’t you bother about me,” said Miss Ashton. “I understand perfectly. But Martha, how can Mr. Pierce get away from the boat? Doesn’t he go back to Boston to-night?”
“Well, you see, he has two weeks’ vacation. He had one week in Halifax, where his people live—that was how I ran across him there—and the other week is still coming to him. He can take it now, or later——”
“And he’s going to take it now,” finished Nancy.
“Any or all of you are perfectly welcome to sit in the back seat when I practice,” offered Martha generously.
“Thanks,somuch,” said Nancy.
Miss Ashton, who had seen the two in the park that afternoon, when she was on her way to the steamer to cancel her reservations, had made a few careful inquiries as to the character of the young man, and had been perfectly satisfied with what she had found out. So she made no objections to Martha’s going about with him.
“Well, don’t go too far away; that’s all, Martha,” she said; “and be very careful; for some of the native drivers here still keep to the left of the road. It is very confusing to one accustomed to the right side.”