CHAPTER VZAIDEE
They were the usual lot of girls in a sort of hubbub together. With the exception of the Kirklands they were not taking life seriously as yet. They studied and sang, painted, wrote verses, sometimes were caught on trigonometry and occasionally made awful translations in Latin and French. They changed their ideals, they vowed friendship and fell out with each other, they were spiteful and willful and sweet and penitent, and if “a boy’s will’s the wind’s will,” a young girl’s will in the unformed years is not much better.
Phillipa Rosewald was a sort of leader. A kind of charming girl with many varieties, fascinating, making you like her when she chose and then giving you pin pricks instead of caresses. Before she put on long dresses boys were quarrelling about her and she seemed to sandwich love affairs in with her lessons; she had fine taste in dressing, she could tie a bow, or trim a hat, or furbish up an evening waist in a manner that filled her comrades with envy, and she was a fairly good scholar as well.
But Zaidee with her graciousness and sweettemper won all hearts. Every one was eager to have some little claim upon her. Her mother’s sad accident and her father being one of the survivors of a fierce Indian battle made her a sort of heroine. She was not quite an angel but very human and with the peculiar sweetness that always disarms criticism.
And although it was considered a rather aristocratic school there were the usual feuds and bits of jealousy inseparable from a crowd of girls, the days in the main passed delightfully, and now they were all interested in the rehabilitation of Crawford House, the coming of the young midshipman and the lovely mother who at last had an almost miraculous restoration to health and strength.
Crawford House was full of workmen. Aunt Kate was supervisor. Willard was staying with his parents.
The house stood on a little eminence and had two terraces that were a mass of bloom in the summer. A broad portico ran on two sides and at the end fronting the south there was an imposing tower, many windows. Back of it was a flower garden, a vegetable garden, barns, carriage house and a useful little green-house.
“Dear, I hope the workmen will be throughearly in December,” said Aunt Kate. “Then there is all the furnishing. Only about six weeks. Does school seem natural, Zay? Have the girls gone way ahead of you?”
“I hardly know yet,” was the laughing reply. “Mrs. Barrington hasn’t really set me at work.”
“Are there many new scholars?”
“Not in our department, but it seems nice to be a school girl again and not a globe trotter.”
“But you didn’t go quite round the world.”
“I’m glad there’s something left. Look girls, this is my room with the southern and western exposure. I think I’ll have it done in pale green and pink, Aunt Kate. That will tone down the summer sunshine. Phil and I have been discussing colors.”
“That will be pretty, and you canstandgreen. It would turn some complexions yellow,” returned Aunt Kate.
“How short the days are growing! And it gets dark so soon. Girls, we had better hurry off home.”
“Shall I order samples of green, Zaidee?”
“Yes, Aunt Kate, if you please.”
It was quite a treat to sit down at the table with a group of girls. Madame Eusticetalked to them in French and Zay surprised her with her readiness and improved pronunciations.
“And I am quite a proficient in German as far as talking goes, I’ve heard so much of it, and it seemed so funny at first. Though a good many of the servants and waiters speak a little English.”
Zay glanced down at the other table. She singled out Miss Nevins who had quite a fancy hair dressing and a pink bow. But she saw no one she thought Miss Boyd. Then there was a full hour to the study period.
Lilian and her mother often took this meal which was only a kind of high tea in their room. Mrs. Boyd could not overcome a half fear of Mrs. Dane. Then she read to her mother until it was time to go to the study. Often she left her mother asleep in the big easy chair. Oh, for some one to listen and to respond! But the practice was good for her if no one listened.
Zay kept glancing furtively down at the table of the younger class. Yes, there was Miss Boyd. She went toward a pupil, as a small hand was held up. There was something interesting in the face, and the young student would glance up and smile. Wasthere any resemblance, she wondered? The hair was darker, but the complexion was certainly fine. Miss Nevins had a peevish look tonight and said something rather cross. Miss Boyd preserved her serenity.
Lilian was having quite a delightful new interest in the Trenhams. Her exercise hour led to a walk down there and an engaging half visionary talk with Claire who had wonderful adventures with a pretty squirrel who ran up and down a tree in range with her window. Or it was some belated bird who had lost his way south and had to hide to keep out of the way of the hunters.
“Why do they let them go out and kill the poor birdies?” she asked plaintively. “I should think it would be braver to go to Africa and shoot lions and tigers and those cruel animals that eat up human beings, and the dear pretty little squirrels!”
“Why, indeed?” Lilian had often thought of it herself.
Or it would be a story of a fairy who had a long search for a charmed ring that would bestow a wonderful power over everything in the forest and give the animals the gift of speech. Claire told one, Lilian must take the next.
“Edith comes home so tired sometimes. You are always fresh,” the child said.
Then the girl would meet Edith who would turn about and walk with her and listen to the hopes and ambitions and dreams she could tell to no one else. So she had a comforting secret life.
Zaidee Crawford made two or three slight advances, but they were distantly received, and Zay was not used to being rebuffed. She was not much of an analyst and thought Miss Boyd very cold natured. But now and then the enthusiasm of the true student broke out in some class recitation and it transfigured her.
“Our pupil teacher quite distinguished herself today,” said Phillipa Rosewald, “though I must say it was in exceedingly bad taste.”
“Why bad taste?” asked Zay. “I thought it fine.”
“She might have been a little more modest. You see, my dear child, we are not preparing for teachers nor to vulgarly distinguish ourselves. I thought Miss Grayson did not quite like it. Are you really growing fond of your double? But I can’t imagine you standing up in that bold fashion.”
Zay was silent. It always annoyed herto have Miss Boyd called her double. The figure and manner was so different. Zay was so light and airy, she seemed rather to skim over space than to walk, and every motion was replete with grace, while Miss Boyd was stately, and when critical eyes were upon her, sometimes seemed awkward.
Miss Nevins certainly was improving. Thanks to Mrs. Barrington’s regimen her complexion had cleared up, she kept her hair in a tidier fashion. May Gedney had insisted upon her wearing something beside the dismal browns.
“Send this to your dressmaker and have a green suit trimmed with bands of gray fur—if it won’t be too extravagant.”
“Oh, father will pay the bill. He hasn’t much idea of what things cost.”
“See here—I know a lovely dressmaker in Livingston. I sometimes go there. Mrs. Barrington would let us go over with Miss Davis, I am sure, and as she keeps samples we could choose, and she could take your measure. I don’t believe it would cost half as much, and will be prettier. Your clothes are too old.”
“Oh, you are an angel,” and May had to submit to an embrace.
Mrs. Barrington agreed. She gave Miss Nevins some money.
“As they are going on your business you must pay their expenses,” she said.
Miss Nevins felt really grand. This was a true friend.
One evening she thrust a note in Lilian’s hand. She had taken a seat on the other side of the table.
Lilian read it in her room. She smiled, yet she felt a little hurt after all she had done for Alice.
“I hope you won’t feel bad because I changed my seat. Some of those hateful girls called us Beauty and the Beast. I know I am not handsome, but then rich people seldom are, and I don’t think you are so very. I have a new dear friend who really does care for me and is going to plan about my clothes. Of course you don’t know how the real style ought to dress, and I don’t think mamma would like me to be intimate with a girl whose mother was caretaker here. It’s such a pity she is, for if she wasn’t here you wouldn’t need to say anything about it and would be more respected. I hope you won’t be mad.—Alice.”
“I won’t be ashamed of her, poor dearmother,” Lilian said resolutely. But if she were like Mrs. Trenham, and the change would not be so very great, she mused.
Miss Nevins avoided her for the next few days. Lilian did not seem to notice it.
Mrs. Barrington called the girls together one evening.
“Young ladies,” she began, “I have a plan to lay before you. There have always been some Hallowe’en plays and tricks that often seem both childish and reprehensible. I am going to propose you lay aside all these and instead let me give you a party with music, dancing and some refreshments. I will invite the young gentlemen of the neighborhood, many of whom you have met at church and elsewhere. What do you say?”
“Oh, Mrs. Barrington, that is utterly lovely.”
Phillipa Rosewald sprang up and clasped both hands. There was a bevy of girls about her and they all talked at once.
“Understand, there are to be no tricks played in each other’s rooms. You have been making very good progress so far this year and I am sincerely pleased. As many of you will go away on Saturday there can be noChristmas festivities, but this may be quite as pleasant.”
“Oh, Mrs. Barrington, it will be just delightful!” cried Phillipa with enthusiasm. “Thank you a dozen times for thinking of it.”
“You have accepted some invitations from outside and it seems the thing to return them. Every girl will be at her liberty to ask one guest and there are several I wish to invite. I hope you will have a happy time.”
“Oh, we are sure of that.”
“And now I hope your scholarship will be excellent at the winter examinations. It will be the last year for some of you and for your parents’ sake I hope you will stand high.”
The leisure of the next two days was spent working out lists.
“Oh,” declared May Gedney, “I’d like to invite at least four. Ally and Archie Holmes, and the Pridhams. I suppose we can ask a young gentleman?”
“Let us make a list and divide up. Archie Holmes is such a delightful dancer, and Allie is so full of fun, and so many of us were at her birthday party.”
“Do you suppose the smaller fry will invite their friends?”
“I think not, though they may be allowed to come in as spectators.”
“That Nevins girl is a pretty dancer. What lots of fancy things she knows.”
“I don’t imagine we will have any high flings,” laughing.
“Well, May, you ask Ally, and Nelly White ask Archie. That’s the way we must pair off, and divide up the Pridhams. We must only ask one girl in a family. I’m afraid we won’t have boys enough to go round.”
“Then some of the girls will have to play Knights as we do in the practices.”
After much study they presented their list to Mrs. Barrington who thought it very judicious. She said she had several gentlemen to add.
Then there was a time about the frocks. Miss Nevins unpacked two party gowns that had remained in her trunk when it was taken up stairs. A pretty rather simple white cluna silk and a pink satin.
“Oh, the satin is altogether too ornate, too really old,” declared Phillipa.
“But it’s so much prettier,” longingly.
“I don’t know about that, and I can tell you Mrs. Barrington will hustle it back in the box mighty quick. The party is for the oldergirls. You will simply be allowed in to look and partake of the treat if you are well behaved little girls.”
Miss Nevins pouted.
Her new winter suit had come home and it was really admirable, making her look like quite a different girl.
“I don’t see what that New York dressmaker can be thinking about. She makes a regular guy of her. And since Mrs. Barrington shut down on so much sweet stuff how her complexion has improved. But the morning baths are a terror to her. She is sure she can keep clean on a wash once a week.”
“And girls, every time her mother wrote she enclosed five dollars. She didn’t give any account of that for awhile, and Mrs. Barrington was quite affronted when her mother advised her to go to a restaurant now and then to get a good meal. I must say our living here is of the very best.”
There was no dissenting voice.
They were all in a gale about the party. There was always a lawn fete when school closed in June at which the girls invited relatives and friends. Hallowe’en had been devoted to tricks in each other’s room, sewing up sheets, sprinkling cayenne pepper and rice, andoccasionally putting a toad in the bed if one could be found, or an artificial one would answer the purpose. Mrs. Barrington had made some appeals, but this new plan was a decided success. The girls were gay and eager with delight, and wonder who of the young men of the town would be asked.
Mrs. Barrington called Lilian in her room and spoke of the party, giving her a special invitation.
“It is very kind of you,” the girl answered, “and I hope you will not think me ungrateful if I decline. I am not used to gayeties of this kind, and”—with a smile—“I have no party dress.”
“That can easily be remedied. I really think you are making a mistake by effacing yourself so readily on all occasions. You are becoming a fine scholar and I am much interested in your welfare. Your hour in the study room is not at all detrimental—”
“There are other things. Oh, Mrs. Barrington let me keep to my own sphere. I have always been poor, I have not been much among what are called better class girls, but I do know they have better advantages and are trained in pretty and attractive society ways. Public schools are more on a level. I am not findingfault. My heart is full of gladness for this lovely offer that came to my mother and me. Some of the young ladies have been very kind. Believe me I am happy, but I should feel out of place in a gay party.”
She looked really beautiful standing there, the bright flush coming and going over her face, her mouth with its winsome curves, her eyes so full of gratitude and candor. What was the elusive remembrance?
“You shall do as you like in this matter,” returned Mrs. Barrington. “But at the beginning of the new term I propose to have matters on a somewhat different footing. You will end by being my best scholar.”
“Oh, thank you a thousand times for taking so much interest in me. I hope I shall be able to repay you.”
“My dear child some of the best things in the world are done without pay. Appreciation is better and you have a great deal of that.”
The party was a great success. Several of the older graduates were asked in. There was music, some conversational plays where quick wit was necessary and in this Phillipa excelled. Then the dancing was charming to the young crowd. They were very merryover the refreshments, then dancing again.
“It’s been just delightful! I never had such a good time in my life. Oh, Mrs. Barrington, how can we ever thank you,” and a dozen other glad acknowledgments. They were all tired enough to tumble into bed, with no thought of tricks to disturb them.
Miss Nevins admitted that she had a first class time. “Only I wish I had been up in more dances. And if they’d had some fancy dances! I do love them so!”
“Hardly at such a party,” said Phillipa, dryly. “And the maid of the evening who did not come. Do you suppose she was asked?” inquired Louie Howe.
“Oh, she would have come quick enough if she’d had anything to wear,” subjoined Miss Gedney. “Well, I’m glad she didn’t or wasn’t. It would have been rather embarrassing.”
“When I meet her abroad in the capacity of attendant to some charming young lady I should not know her, of course.”
There was a laugh at that.
Then began the mouth of real study though there were a few heart burnings that Miss Boyd should come up to the best in some of the classes.
November was unusually beautiful and theweek of Indian summer a dream for a poet. Lilian’s afternoon hour out of doors was the concentration of delight. The handsome town, the picturesque houses, where late blooming flowers were a delight on many a lawn, the peaceful winding river whose shadows seemed to depict a fascinating underworld, the rising ground beyond with its magnificent trees, its tangled nooks of shrubbery with scarlet berries, so stirred Lilian’s fine nature that she felt as if she must burst into poesy.
No, she would never give up the splendid, inspiriting dreams of youth. Ambitious and noble natures are often haunted by romantic ideals and glimpses of the future reaching up to unharmful standards that did seem possible. These dreams were better than the feverish, vitiating novels some of the girls poured over in private.
She was making a warm friend of Edith Trenham, who was often puzzled by her. How did she get this wonderful insight into such a beautiful world full of possible endeavor.
The simple prettiness of the Trenham home was very charming to her. This was what she would make for her mother, only there would be a little more. Portfolios of engravings, a vase from Japan, a curious Indian ornamentwith ages back of it. Already Barrington House was shaping her taste in many matters.
Then it was a pleasure to talk to the imaginative Claire who reveled in the Knights of Arthur’s time, the tastes of Mythology which she twisted about to suit her fancy.
“I like Miss Lilian so much,” she would say. “She has traveled in so many countries. She knows all about Eskimo babies and little Chinese girls who can’t go anywhere because they have such crooked feet. And we play at going to see them, and they give us such curious things to eat. And there are real little Greek children, who lived in Bible times. Oh, it’s just lovely!”
“You make Claire very happy,” Edith would say in a fond tone.
“I like to make her happy, and I want to make my mother happy. She has had such a hard life.”
“You are a dear daughter.”
Was she being a dear daughter to her mother? Mrs. Boyd seemed to grow more distant, more dreary and absent. Sometimes between classes she would run in and take her mother’s work, read to her evenings, but then she always fell asleep; but the girl went on. It was more company to read aloud. Justnow she was deep in the making of Beautiful Florence. Oh, would she ever get to know all the famous cities of the world?
How the time sped on! There was one snow storm, not a very deep one, but enough to call out the sleighs, and what a fairyland it made of Mount Morris. Saturday all the girls chipped in and hired a big sleigh and a laughing crew of ten had what they thought the merriest time of their lives.
Just as they were getting out Louie Howe caught her skirt on something and there was a tear.
“Oh, girls! My best Sunday skirt! And we—some of us are invited to Mrs. Westlake’s to dinner, and she goes away on Monday. Oh, I wonder if Mrs. Boyd can mend it fit to be seen! I can’t take it to the tailors now.”
“She darns beautifully.”
“Well, that’s what she’s here for; mender in general.”
“But it seems dreadful to ask her to do it in the evening, and the daylight is almost gone.”
Louie hated to give up whatever her mind was set upon. She hurriedly changed her frock and put on a light evening dress. With her skirt in hand she crossed the hall. Thedoor stood open. The house was always warm. Mrs. Boyd sat in an easy chair. Helen on one of the fancy stools under the gas burner with a book in her hand. Louie swept past her.
“Oh, Mrs. Boyd. I want you to mend my skirt. I’ve given it a dreadful tear. I can’t take it to the tailors and four of us are invited out to dinner after church, so I must have it.”
Mrs. Boyd rose and examined it. “It is a bad tear, but if youmusthave it—”
“Yes, I surely must. O, I think you can do it. There’s the whole evening.”
Then she turned away. Lilian’s temper flared up at white heat.
“Oh, mother, why didn’t you tell her you could not? She has other dresses to wear. Let me take it back to her—”
“No, dear, I’ll do it. Light the lamp for me. Why you know that’s part of my business,” and Mrs. Boyd gave a tremulous little laugh.
“I think Mrs. Barrington would not have such a thing done on Saturday night,” was her resolute reply, but she lighted the lamp and brought her mother’s work table with its handy cabinet.
“You see a good part of it will go underthis plait. Oh Lilian, do not mind such little things.”
The insolent manner had hurt the girl keenly. Louie was on the promotion list and would graduate in June. She held her head very high. Her father had promised her a handsome watch with a beautiful neck chain that could be detached when required and she felt sure of it now.
Mrs. Boyd basted the tear on a piece of cloth and began her work.
“Lilian,” she said, “will you go and see if there is an iron on the range, and ask cook if I can come down by and by.”
Then she began her work. The underneath part at first, but somehow her hand trembled. Lilian watched with an indignant, aching heart. After awhile her mother leaned back with a sigh.
“I believe I shall have to get glasses,” she said wearily. “I cannot do fine work in the evening. I am afraid I shall spoil it, and I’ve always been such a neat worker.”
“Let me finish,” said the girl. Every inch of her protested, but it was for her mother’s sake. Lately she had done several things to ease her.
“Yes, let me,” she went on, taking the workfrom her mother’s hands. “You know I can darn nicely.”
Lilian took infinite pains. It was slow work, but at last it was accomplished.
“You are such a dear, good daughter, and it is said booky people are never anything with a needle, but you could get your living with it.”
Then she took her work down stairs and came back flushed and smiling.
“Look, Lilian,” in a tone of pride, “it hardly shows! Cook said she never saw more beautiful darning and that in a big city I could make a fortune at lace mending. Will you take it to Miss Howe?”
“No, mother,” and Lilian spoke in a dignified but not unkindly manner. “We are not here to run and wait on the girl. Let Miss Howe come for it.”
Mrs. Boyd felt disappointed. She wanted some one beside cook to praise her handiwork.
Louie fidgeted about her skirt. She and Zay were in Phil’s room talking over the coming Christmas and Mrs. Crawford’s return.
“I wonder why that girl doesn’t bring my skirt. Maybe they’ve spoiled it.”
“Have you sent a maid?”
“Why no. I meant Miss Boyd. She oughtn’t be above such things.”
“Still, she isn’t here to run on errands. I think Mrs. Barrington treats her quite as if she were a scholar, and she’s a fine one, too.”
“Some day she’ll brag of having been educated here, though Mount Morris doesn’t set out to furnish teachers, but the training of young ladies. Mother likes it because there was no opportunity of making undesirable acquaintances,” and Louie gave her head a toss.
“Is Miss Nevins so very desirable?” asked Zay with a flash of mirth in her eye.
“Still, if you met her abroad as a rich banker’s daughter or heard of her being presented to the Queen—”
“Girls, don’t quarrel about either one of them. Alice Nevins is a fool and always will be. Lilian Boyd is smart and ambitious but thereisthe bar sinister. Her mother isn’t the sort of person to come up in the world and when Miss Lilian gets there she’ll ship off her old mother, put her in an Old Woman’s Home. I despise that toss of her head, just as if she was up to the highest mark already; but they are not worth disputing about.”
Zaidee Crawford drew a long breath. Shehad almost courage enough to stand up for her, then she remembered some one had said you were never sure that some disgraceful thing might come out. Who knew anything about her father? There was a good deal of pride of birth at Mount Morris as is apt to be the case where well to do people have lived for a century or so.
Louie sent a maid for her skirt and admitted that a tailor couldn’t have done it better.
“Only a week” the girls said with their good night to each other.
Not that they were so tired of school, but Christmas was a joyous occasion, and going home a treat.
CHAPTER VIAN ESCAPADE AND WHAT CAME OF IT
The closing week of school was full of girlish excitements. Friday and Saturday most of the girls would go home. Christmas came on the following Monday. The Miss Kirklands were going to remain and devote the time to study. Alice Nevins and Elma Ransome had no homes to go to at present. Mrs. Barrington generally took this for a resting-up time.
Louie rushed into Phillipa’s room, breathless and eyes full of wonder. There was some fancy things strewn around. Phil and Zaidee were at some gifts.
“What now? Has there been a mistake in the calendar and is Christmas put off and are we to be aliens from the family bosom?”
Louie laughed and fanned herself vigorously.
“I’ve been hearing wonderful things about that Clairvoyant. Do you really know what clairvoyance is? It isn’t mere fortune telling. Madge Hayne went the other day and she was told some really remarkable things. They had not heard from that brother in a year and didn’t know whether he was dead or alive. She said they would hear from himand that he would return soon with a fortune, and this very morning the letter came. He’s been in Alaska and British Columbia and goodness knows where all, and he’s tired of rambling and hardships. So he’s coming home as he has made his pile, which I suppose means a fortune. They are all just wild with joy, and there are to be two marriages this year.”
“Then Madge’s lover will get his promotion. That is what she is waiting for,” laughed Phil. “But I have heard that the woman told some wonderful things.”
“And while we were abroad in the summer Aunt Kate and I took little tours around; we were at a Fair in a small town where there were some real Romany gypsies and one insisted on reading Aunt Kate’s future. She spoke of mamma’s walking without crutches, which we couldn’t believe and said after we came home something mysterious would happen to us, that a member of the family would come from a great distance, that the person who had her in charge would die, but Aunt Kate laughed and said we had had no mysterious marriages nor sudden disappearances, so that could hardly come true.”
Phillipa had been considering. “Girls let’sgo,” she exclaimed. “Mrs. Barrington didn’t actually forbid it. She said: ‘Girls I hope none of you will be foolish enough to spend your money on such nonsense. Those people are generally impostors.’ I’d like to have a peep into the future. There’s a young man I am interested in. Now, if he’s all fair and square and means business—”
“You’re always on the anxious seat of lovers,” said Louie, “and you seem to have them by dozens.”
“I want the very best and richest. Girls, my mother was married when she was seventeen, and I’ll be nineteen in June; but she didn’t go to boarding school for three years and waste her time.”
“And I want a tour abroad—a winter or summer in Paris—which is most attractive, and there may be a little chance of some one leaving father a fortune. Oh, let us go—just for the fun if nothing else,” and Louie glanced up in her radiant prettiness.
There is something tempting to the young in a peep in the wide mysterious future. Joys and the so-called good luck are delights to hope for and it is seldom that any dark pages are unfolded to youth. So the girls talked and agreed to go the next afternoon.
Examinations were in the morning and the girls had the afternoon to themselves. Four were going to a musicale, half a dozen to do some last shopping.
“We’ll put on something out of the ordinary line,” said Phil. “Hoods and veils and I’ll wear my old gray coat. Mother would make me bring it and I’ve not had it on once. We’ll trot across the park, shortest route, and hold our heads down.”
“And then run round to Crawford House and have some hot chocolate,” said Zay.
It was a winter when Tam o’ Shanters were all the rage. Zay had a white one with two fluffy rose-colored rosettes. As she passed through the hall she saw Clara Arnold’s blue one lying on the bed. She had always tabooed blue. Now with a sudden impulse she put it on. Clara had gone to the musicale and would not be home until late. Then she gathered up her curls and stuffed them in the crown. Yes, she did suggest the Boyd girl. The resemblance teased her, and the girls had found that out. She wound a veil around her head and they stole through the hall when it was deserted and went scuddering through the Park.
It was a cloudy afternoon, not one to go out for pleasure, and then everybody had wantedto go down town. Mrs. Trenham lived in the corner house. There was a garden space between, then a high fence. Phillipa rang the bell.
A rather unkempt, middle-aged woman answered it.
“Could we see the Clairvoyant?”
“Well,” hesitatingly. “All of you? I’m rather—yes, walk in.”
The room was untidy, the books on the table dusty, and some clothing thrown over several chairs.
“Young girls always want a peep in the future,” and she gave an abrupt laugh. “You don’t any of you look as if you needed medical advice. My, I seldom see such rosy, good looking girls. Now, I’ll tell you—it’s a dollar if I go into a trance and see you inside, up and down and I can tell to a T whether there’s anything the matter. But I don’t believe you want that. S’pose I just run over the cards and see what kind of a Christmas you’re going to have and how many lovers and who’s going to wear a diamond. That’s fifty cents.”
“That’s enough to spend on such foolery,” laughed Phillipa.
She pushed out some chairs and took up apack of cards, threw them aside and took a clean pack off of the mantlepiece. “Now you try first,” motioning to Phillipa. “Why I can see by your face there’s lots of fortune coming to you. You’re the kind of girl men quarrel over.”
She had become a very astute reader of faces and could tell by the brightening of an eye or the movement of a feature whether she was on the right tack.
“Your home isn’t here and you are going to it in a few days. You see—here’s the house and there’s a distance between,” pointing out the cards. “They are making a big time and lots of company, a great Christmas dinner, and a dance in the evening, and you’ll get kissed under the mistletoe—but you won’t marry that man. There’s two of them—three of them and two offers of marriage. Some one you haven’t seen much of, and there’ll be talk of a diamond.”
She shuffled the cards and ran over them again, enlarging upon the lovers and jealous girls as well as men, presents and fun. “But you’re going to turn your back on it all and you don’t want to a bit, and you’re going to have some trouble, and a journey with a trunk, and—why you’ll be in school and you’llbe most crazy to hear from the young man with the diamond, but you just keep your faith, he’ll be all right and there’ll be a wedding before the leaves fall. Oh, you’ll be as happy as a queen.”
Phillipa laughed and nodded.
“Now, you next,” to Zaidee.
Zay hesitated, but took the chair Phillipa vacated.
At first she seemed a puzzle to the fortune teller. “She had traveled a good deal. Some one was coming across water that she would be glad to see—three people, a fair lady who had had a great deal of trouble, sickness, but was well now. Why they would soon be here and all have Christmas dinner together. There would be a great surprise with a fair young man who cared a great deal for her, and there were wonderful surprises that wouldn’t make her happy at first. Here was a strange girl—but she doesn’t want to come. Gifts and friends, and this stout man—your father,” and she knew by Zay’s face she had guessed right. “He is very fond of you—oh, you needn’t ever be afraid any one will crowd you out. Plenty of lovers, too, when it comes your time; a happy marriage and children, and prosperity. A little sickness, but nothing to be alarmed about.”
Louie’s fortune did not seem so serene. “She was at school and would go home to keep Christmas. This was elaborated in very agreeable styles. Then she would come back, but she would be troubled about a prize, be disappointed in a girl friend who would try to injure her and who would say mean things, but she must not mind them. Then there were journeys and pleasures and lovers, but she would not marry very young and would be engaged twice, and oddly enough be married the second time.”
Then they rose, gathered up their wraps and the fortune teller her money, with profuse wishes for their happiness and a merry Christmas, and shut the door. Zay was leading and opened the hall door, stepping out on the stoop.
“Oh, my goodness! There’s the Dane across the way! Let us run out back and across lots” and they started in a huddle, opening the door that led to another room.
“You can’t come in here,” declared a voice but they pushed through to the outer door, flew down the path and across a space over to the next street, but did not stop until they had reached the side gate to Crawford House.
“It’s only three of us girls,” exclaimed Zay. “We are going to my room.”
Then they stood in breathless terror, looking in each other’s faces. Phillipa gave a half hysterical laugh, dropped into a chair and went on laughing.
“I don’t see anything funny,” said Louie. “And to come so near being caught! Do you suppose the Dane was watching out—suspecting? And that horrid smell in the room, and the girl holding up one of those boys who was struggling for breath—”
“You had a good view, Louie,” sarcastically.
“Well, I was behind. Oh, what if it was small pox?” and Louie was white as a ghost.
“Small pox! Louie don’t be an idiot! See here, we’d heard a thing like that quick enough. Now I’ll tell you—Zay have you any aromatic ammonia? Let’s all take a dose to quiet our nerves and ward off whatever it may be, and get a lump of gum camphor to take to bed with us tonight, and Louie if you dare to act suspicious I’ll murder you.”
“I don’t think it was just the thing for her to let us in if there was any sickness.”
“I wanted arealClairvoyant. They do tell you wonderful things, but she hit a good deal about you, Zay. I wonder who is coming totry to oust you out? Oh, maybe your brother will bring home a wife.”
“I shouldn’t like that,” the girl said frankly. “And maybe he will be sent on a three years’ cruise and leave her with us!”
“Nonsense! Don’t bother your pretty curly head. Here let us all take our composing draught and then wend our way to school with a bold front. Only we must have some other hats.”
“I’ll wear my Gainsborough, and you, Phil, shall have my brown turban with the bunch of plumes. Louie—”
“Let me wear the black straw with those yellow daisies. I almost grudge that to you.”
“Then take it as a Christmas gift.”
The cook stopped them in the hall and said they must have a cup of hot chocolate. The wind was blowing up cold.
Then they started home in very good spirits. It was well they had changed their headgear. Mrs. Dane sat in the hall looking over some mail. She glanced up and nodded, but she had some suspicions and she meant to see who came home wearing a light blue Tam.
Zay flung her borrowed article on MissArnold’s bed. She had not come home from the musicale yet.
Lilian Boyd had gone out for her usual walk. She wanted to see some pretty things Claire was making for Christmas, but before she reached the corner she saw Edith Trenham coming rapidly from her mother’s, so she halted.
“Oh, Lilian—don’t go. You can’t see Claire—”
“Is she ill?” in affright.
“No, no, only—come with me to the druggist; I can’t tell you just now—oh, I’ll write you a note. You cannot go there this week. Mother has a friend staying with her and I have gone to Mrs. Lane’s to board for a week, there is so much school work just now.”
“How very mysterious you are,” studying her while she colored under the scrutiny.
“Well, it threatens snow and it would be easier for me there. Don’t worry about us—I’ll write this evening and tell you the ‘whys;’ and now dear, don’t feel vexed if I leave you. I have a number of errands to do, and I’ll surely see you on Sunday.”
She had taken a few steps, then she turned and said: “Lilian, do not mention meetingme today; I ask it as a favor. I will explain it all to you. Trust me.”
What did it mean?WasClaire ill? She had never seen Miss Trenham so confused. Evidently she could not have her come to the house. Lilian felt curiously dismal. There were the shops in holiday attire, but she said she did not feel joyous, Christmasy. She rambled about a little. There was the Clairvoyant’s sign. Could any one tell about the future, even another’s health? For, somehow it seemed as if her mother had been curiously distraught of late. If shecouldknow about the future! Oh, her mother must live the year out, and she was learning a great many things. She would do for an under teacher then, and by the time she was twenty—
It was cloudy and raw and she hurried up a little. A merry group of girls passed her laughing and chatting. Why, she had never felt so alone, not even back in Laconia. Last Christmas had been gay and pleasant with girls in Sunday and everyday school.
She went in at the side entrance. She could have taken the other but this was nearer. She had the right to a good many privileges that under some circumstances she would have claimed, but the supercillious nod or the liftingof the brows cut like a knife. Her place was on her mother’s side.
Mrs. Dane opened her door on the landing and crossed the hall.
“Oh, you have returned. Did you see your friend, Miss Trenham?” There was something curious in the tone.
“I did not go to the house.” Yet she colored as if it was a prevarication.
“No?” was all the comment in the same tone.
But her mother was not so easily put off.
“Did you see your pretty invalid friend and her Christmas work?”
“No, I did not go in.”
“That’s queer. I thought you were going there. Where, then, did you go?”
“Oh, I only walked around and said over French verbs. It’s grown very chilly.”
“Yes. Miss Arran came in and opened a window. I felt so cold—I wish people would let you have your room as you want it. They can swing their’s wide open if they want to.”
She was lying on the bed. She looked old and gray and wrinkled.
“Do you feel poorly, mother?”
“No, not when I am good and warm.”
“Shall we have tea together here?”
“I don’t want any, I’m very comfortable now. You go and get yours.”
But Lilian sent for it, yet she could not persuade her mother to taste the toast or the bit of broiled steak. She was hungry.
Afterward she took up her book to study as she was not due down stairs. Then there was a tap at the door.
“Mrs. Barrington would like to see you in her room,” was the message.
She walked thither. Mrs. Dane sat there in her austerest fashion.
“Miss Boyd,” she said, “were you at your friend’s, Mrs. Trenham’s, this afternoon?”
Lilian flushed at the repeated question.
“I was not,” she said rather hesitatingly. “I meant to go, but”—then she paused. She must not say she met Edith.
Mrs. Barrington’s penetrating eyes were fixed on her face and brought a vivid color to it.
“Were you at any other person’s house?”
“No, I was not,” she answered quietly. Oh, what does it all mean?
“Do you mean to deny that you were at the Clairvoyant’s from half past four to about five?” Mrs. Dane said in her most judicial manner.
Lilian flushed indignantly but her voice was unsteady as she said—“I was not there, if you”—then she paused.
“Think again. I saw you walking about nearly at the corner. I went to make a call on a friend who is ill. When I came out I walked a few doors, when I saw the Clairvoyant’s door open and a girl stepped out on the stoop. I think there was some one behind her. She saw me and bolted back in the hall. There are just two girls in the school who have light blue Tams. Miss Arnold went to a musicale and found hers lying on the bed just where she left it. I watched, but you did not come out again. Then I walked around to the rear but saw no one. I had a fair glance at your face, I think I cannot be mistaken.”
Lilian was speechless with amazement.
“I met Miss Trenham at the side of the park and we walked together a short distance. Believe it or not, I went to no one’s house.”
“It is important for us to know the truth on account of the terrible ending,” said Mrs. Barrington gravely. “Two boys have been ill with what their mother thought was measles. The doctor was not sent for until noon, and did not get there until nearly six. He foundone boy dead of malignant scarlet fever, the other dying and one girl seriously ill. So you see we cannot afford to have contagion brought in the house!”
“Oh, what a horrible thing!” Lilian cried. Then she faced Mrs. Dane. “Oh, you are mistaken, as God hears me, I was not in that house nor on that side of the street,” and she almost gasped for breath.
“You may go to your room. You will be excused from study hour tonight. We must consider. I am glad it is so near closing time.”
Lilian felt like one dazed. Yet she was passionately indignant when she had reached her room. There might be other blue Tams in the town but she did not remember to have seen many in light blue except Miss Arnold’s. Somehow, Mrs. Dane had never taken to her cordially like Miss Arran and the teachers.
Mrs. Barrington was much distressed. She had become warmly interested in Lilian. She had smiled a little over Mrs. Dane’s strictures.
“There’s something about her, a sort of loftiness that doesn’t belong to her life, though she takes things with outward calmness, but I have a feeling that some day she will break out in an awful tempest, and I doubt her being that woman’s daughter. Mrs. Boyd nevertalks frankly about her,” Mrs. Dane said, severely.
“But she is devoted to the poor mother.”
“Well, it seems so,” rather reluctantly.
After dinner Mrs. Barrington summoned Miss Arran and laid the matter before her. She listened with a kind of terrified interest.
“I can’t believe Miss Boyd would tell such a dreadful falsehood, when she saw the necessity of the truth. Mrs. Dane has very strong prejudices. That Nevins girl is about her size and has a long braid of fair hair.”
“Oh, she was in disgrace in her room, but what a horrible thing that it should have gone on without even a physician, or any care to prevent the spread of contagion. Well—I suppose tomorrow it will be all over town. I gave Matthew strict orders to say nothing about it tonight.”
Presently Mrs. Barrington knocked at Mrs. Boyd’s door. Lilian opened it. She had been crying. Now she stretched out her hands imploringly.
“Oh, Mrs. Barrington you cannot believe I would tell you such a cruel, willful falsehood! I was not even very near that house. After all your kindness to me—”
“There, dear, I believeyou. I know therehas been some mistake. Mrs. Dane has always been so anxious, one might say jealous for my welfare, and you see this would mean a great deal to me. You must pardon her until the truth comes out.”
“Oh, thank you a thousand times,” cried Lilian in broken tones, her eyes suffused with tears.
“You need not come down to the study this evening. How is your mother?”
“She is having a lovely sleep.”
“Do not say anything to her, and the girls will be going away before there is any real fright. I do not anticipate any danger with us. Be comforted. We shall hear all tomorrow.”
Lilian was almost happy. She had not lost her dear friend. Under any other circumstances Lilian would have given Mrs. Barrington an unreasoning adoration. She could not define it to herself. She liked Miss Arran, but this was beyond a mere kindly liking.
“She believes in me, she believes in me,” and the girl poured the fragrant balm on her wounded heart. But there seemed an awful undefined fear.