"If I make dark my countenance,I shut my life to happier chance."
She pondered it. "That is true," she told herself, "and there is no end to the beautiful things that may happen if only one is ready for them."
Charlotte walked slowly home. She wondered what Miss Marion meant. "Tell him I know she cares." Charlotte had often noticed that Miss Carpenter seemed not to be deeply interested in her Philadelphia cousin, and now suddenly she turned around and was apparently intimately acquainted with her feelings. It was a puzzle.
She sat down in one of the porch chairs to think it over, making a pleasant picture in her white dress, with the feathery clematis for a background, her blue eyes serious and thoughtful, as she rocked softly back and forth. The old self-assertion which a year ago had shown itself in attitude and speech had become softened now until it was no more than a gentle independence.
She had toned down, Cousin Francis told her, with evident approval. In spite of its tempestuous beginning, the year in the Terrace had ingreat measure resulted as her guardian hoped it would.
Aunt Virginia's sweet refinement, Alexina's earnestness, Madelaine's grace,—all these had had their influence; but most potent had been her admiration—almost adoration—for Miss Carpenter. Charlotte had made pleasant friends in school, but after all her happiest hours had been spent in the Terrace, where a year ago life had promised to be so dull.
Aunt Virginia joined her presently, dropping into a chair with a sigh of satisfaction. "It is good to be at home again, and Martha and I have everything put away," she said. "Where have you been?"
"Over to see Miss Marion, but Mrs. Leigh came in and I didn't care to stay."
Miss Virginia rocked briskly for some minutes, then she remarked, "There was something in your Aunt Caroline's last letter I did not understand." Taking it from the envelope she unfolded it and glanced down the page. "Here it is. 'I infer from certain hints you have dropped at different times that you have not taken my advice in regard to the shop—' Ididn't hint, I only said—" Miss Virginia hesitated. She did not recall just what she had said, but she knew she had by no means revealed the true extent of her intimacy with the shopkeepers. She went on with the letter. "'I have lately received some first-hand information concerning these young women, who seem to have fulfilled my prophecy that they would lose no opportunity to ingratiate themselves. I fear you have been too credulous, my dear Virginia, but I will not enter into the matter further till I see you.'
"I wonder what she means by 'first-hand information'?" said Miss Virginia. "I know Caroline will never feel as the rest of us do, but she can't know anything against them."
"No, indeed," Charlotte cried. "There isn't anything about Miss Marion, or Miss Norah either, that is not lovely."
The thought of Marion's caress returned, and with it the question whether she should tell Cousin Frank or not; for it occurred to her he might think her officious to have spoken of the matter to a stranger. If— Charlotte became lost in thought again.
A good many miles to the northward two gentlemen were dining together at the very hour when Miss Virginia and Charlotte sat on the porch and watched the sunset without thinking of it.
"You have great reason to be pleased with the reviews of your book, Frank," the elder man remarked, gratified affection in the grave smile with which his gaze rested on his son.
"Yes, for the most part the critics are kind," Francis Landor replied, drawing hieroglyphics in an absent manner on the cloth with the handle of his spoon.
"But one thing is lacking," thought the father, his glance still resting on the bent head. "The boy must come to something with such a head," he had often said in his childhood; and now the belief was likely to be justified. The face before him was showing the strong, serious lines of maturity, yet he almost regretted the lost boyishness as he noted them.
Suddenly Frank looked up. "I am thinking of going away for a week or so," he announced.
A smile hovered about his father's lips. "May I ask in what direction?—To see Charlotte?"
Their eyes met. "Yes, to see Charlotte," Francis answered.
"When do you go?"
"Sometime to-morrow."
"I wish you good luck, my son."
"So he, too, has guessed," thought Frank.
When he was alone, he took out a letter which bore evidence of more than one reading. Its date showed it to be a year old.
"I am going away," the letter said, "to be gone a long time,—at least a year. By then my fate ought to be decided. I am trying to hope, as Dr. Baird assures me I may, trying to live entirely in the present. It is not easy, but how can I make any plans for the future when a possible life of helplessness lies before me? You are generous, and I know you will forgive if this causes you pain. Forget—everything but that I am always your friend,"Marion Carpenter.
"I am going away," the letter said, "to be gone a long time,—at least a year. By then my fate ought to be decided. I am trying to hope, as Dr. Baird assures me I may, trying to live entirely in the present. It is not easy, but how can I make any plans for the future when a possible life of helplessness lies before me? You are generous, and I know you will forgive if this causes you pain. Forget—everything but that I am always your friend,
"Marion Carpenter.
"I have told no one where I am going, as it seems best to make as complete a break as possible with my life here. Dr. Baird, of course, knows."
"Really, Mrs. Millard, you have treated us very shabbily. It is nearly a year since you left us."
"Ten months, Judge Russell. You are very kind to say you have missed me. I had no thought of staying so long when I left, and I am delighted to be at home again." Mrs. Millard stood in the drawing-room, as composed and elegant as if she had not arrived from a three days' railway journey only a few hours before.
It was a summer-like evening, doors and windows were open, and one after another of the neighbors had dropped in, until Charlotte was reminded of the evening a year ago when the shop was under discussion. She felt a little shy in Aunt Caroline's presence, although that lady was graciousness itself; and Wayland Leigh, who came in with his aunt, joined her in the corner bythe library door and wanted to know what made her so quiet.
"Quite a party, isn't it?" he said; adding, "but where are Miss Marion and Miss Norah?" Like Charlotte, Wayland always put Marion first.
"I don't believe Aunt Caroline would want them," she replied, smiling.
"To be sure, when she went away we didn't know them."
That others were also thinking of the shop was evident, for Miss Sarah was now heard remarking, "You left us defenceless, Caroline, and we surrendered soon after your departure."
"Yes, the shop has become a neighborhood institution," Judge Russell added.
"I am more than surprised to hearyousay so, Judge Russell."
"But Mr. Goodman is the most remarkable convert, Mrs. Millard," said Alex. "Just ask him his opinion of the shop."
"I do not wish to criticise, this first evening at home," Mrs. Millard began graciously; "but as I have been telling Virginia, I cannot understand the fascination these persons seem to have exercised over you."
"But you know they are really charming young women," ventured Mrs. Russell. "I objected to the shop as decidedly as any one until I found out about them. Their popularity is not confined to this neighborhood, and of course you know they are well connected."
"It is about that I wish to speak," interposed Mrs. Millard. "As you may have heard, Miss Unadilla Carpenter, the half-sister of Peter Carpenter, is a friend of my oldest sister. For years they have corresponded; so when I heard from Virginia that these people claimed to be related to the Philadelphia Carpenters, I took it upon myself to write a letter of inquiry to Miss Unadilla. She was ill at the time and some months passed before she replied. A few weeks ago I received a letter, in a part of which you may be interested."
Mrs. Millard was evidently prepared for the occasion, for she at once produced the paper in question.
"I shall be glad to hear it, but it can't alter my opinion of our friends across the street," Miss Sarah said stoutly, at which remark Miss Virginia visibly brightened.
Mrs. Millard paid no heed, but began to read. "'Of the Miss Carpenter of whom you write I know nothing. She is not related to us. My niece, May Carpenter, is my only connection of the name, as I am hers. Of my niece I know little at present. Two years ago she had a long illness which came near being fatal, since then I believe she has been abroad. As to the young woman in question, I repeat we have no cousins.'" Mrs. Millard looked around the circle in triumph.
"Of course," said Miss Sarah, "there are some things difficult to explain; but the most difficult of all would be, how two young women could come into a neighborhood and make it better and happier for their presence, could nurse some of us when we were ill, and show themselves in a thousand ways helpful and kindly and companionable, and all with the utmost simplicity,—to explain how they could do all this and yet be impostors, would be harder still. The good Book says, 'By their fruits ye shall know them,' and that is how we know the shopkeepers."
Wayland clapped noiselessly. "Good for auntie!" he whispered to Charlotte.
"I really don't remember Marion's saying shewas a cousin of Miss Carpenter," said Alex. "Perhaps we jumped to the conclusion."
Mrs. Millard's lips were parted to reply when an exclamation from Miss Virginia caused all eyes to turn toward the door. From the awed silence it might have been a ghost, instead of Norah Pennington in a white dress, who stood there.
She could not but be conscious of the excitement her appearance aroused. Her color deepened as for a second she felt herself the object of the silent gaze of this roomful of people. She did not lose her self-possession, however, and in another moment Charlotte was at her side, and Miss Virginia had recovered her power of speech.
"I really came in search of Alex," Norah explained, a most engaging impostor surely, as she smiled upon the assembly.
"Do you know my sister, Miss Pennington?" Miss Virginia's embarrassment was painfully evident.
"I believe I once met Mrs. Millard in the shop." There was a twinkle of mischief in Norah's demureness.
Mrs. Millard bowed distantly.
"I am going to settle this here and now," Miss Sarah whispered to Mrs. Russell as Norah crossed the room to the sofa where Alex sat. Leaning forward she said in a tone quite audible to everybody, "Norah, excuse me for asking a personal question, but did you say Miss Carpenter—Marion—was related to the Philadelphia Carpenters?"
Norah was quick-witted. So this was what they had been talking about! A glance at Mrs. Millard's haughty shoulders explained. "I think I did say so," she replied frankly.
"But Miss Unadilla says she can't be," observed Wayland in an undertone from behind her.
Norah made her decision promptly. "Miss Unadilla would not have said so if she had understood. I am going to take the liberty of explaining what has perhaps puzzled some of you. It was I who in the beginning caused the mistake, and I think now the time has come to set it right." In the faces of her friends she saw nothing but confidence.
"Some of you have perhaps already guessed that there is just one Miss Carpenter. Marion is Miss Unadilla's niece."
"I knew it! I knew it!" Charlotte whispered in an ecstasy.
Norah continued: "We had no idea of making a mystery of it; that simply happened. Marion was recovering from a long illness, which left her with a nervous affection of the eyes, so serious she felt she would lose her sight. She and I were school friends, and when she was taken ill she sent for me, and I was with her through it all. When she grew stronger, her physician felt she must have some radical change—something which would take her thoughts from herself, but nothing seemed the right thing. Then I thought of putting into execution an old plan of mine to open a shop. I coaxed her into it, and we set out to seek our fortune, just as if the rich Miss Carpenter did not exist,—or, at least, was merely our patron. We came here partly because the climate was mild, and also because I had been here before and knew about the place; and it was far enough from Miss Carpenter's home to make it unlikely she would be recognized. We took no one into our confidence except Dr. Baird, and it was generally understood that we were travelling somewhere forMarion's health. The fiction about the rich Miss Carpenter has annoyed Marion all along; but as it came about, I didn't see how to avoid it. It really seemed better that it should not be known." Norah looked at Alex, as if seeking her opinion.
"Of course, I understand," said Alex; "go on."
"There isn't anything more, except that at the outset we were discovered by Mr. Landor, Charlotte's guardian, and an old friend of Marion's. He promised to keep our secret, and also to speak a good word for us to Miss Virginia."
"My dear, he did; and at the time I was a little surprised, but—" Miss Virginia hesitated.
Norah interrupted her. "You have all been so good to us. If Marion were here, she would join me in saying it. The best part of our venture—and it has been a success in other ways—is the friends we have made."
"You showed yourselves friendly and won us in spite of ourselves," said Miss Sarah.
"I always said there was a mystery," old Mrs. Leigh remarked. "And are you, too, a millionnairess, Miss Norah?"
Norah spread out her hands in an odd little gesture:"I am sorry, but I am just a plain poor person."
"Is this the end of the shop?" some one asked.
"I trust not. I have no idea of giving up, unless you drive me away," Norah answered.
Perhaps the only person present who was greatly surprised was Mrs. Millard. She had planned her little scene with some care, anticipating just such a gathering in honor of her return. To have the title rôle—as it were—snatched from her in the moment of triumph was annoying. But whatever her faults, Mrs. Millard was a lady, and as such she accepted the situation. She said little, but what she said was graceful and to the point. The eccentricity of the whole thing was, it seemed to her, sufficient excuse for her attitude, which, now she understood, she regretted.
"Did you want anything in particular of me, Norah?" Alex asked as they were leaving.
"Yes," was the answer. "I want you to be my partner."
"Norah!" Alex cried. "You know I'll be glad, glad to be; but, oh, I am sorry for you, if you must lose Marion."
"Was I not right to come? You said a year, and that is over."
"I did not expect you so soon." Marion smiled over the great bunch of wild sunflowers she held. Coming in a few minutes earlier she had found Francis Landor pacing impatiently back and forth. Something, perhaps it was the unexpectedness of it, made her a trifle stately.
It seemed to Francis that those flaunting yellow flowers made a barrier between them. "It was only by chance I found you. Charlotte gave me a hint. How long did you intend to leave me in uncertainty? Was it quite fair?"
"I have been in uncertainty myself; happily my fears have not been realized. I did what seemed best at the time, and please remember the year is only just over." Marion looked at him gravely from behind her flowery screen.
"I did not mean to begin by reproaching you,"he said, drawing nearer. "But you cannot realize what it has meant to be left in complete ignorance. Even now I don't understand why you are here." He glanced about the room.
"Norah Pennington and I are living here, earning our daily bread—really doing it,"—she laughed a little; "and, as you see, it has made me over. It was Norah's plan, and you can see how we were obliged to keep it to ourselves, if it was to be carried out. I had to cut loose from everything,—the suspense about my eyes was killing me. Of course, looking back, it seems needless; but one cannot argue with nerves."
She paused a moment, then continued: "There is one thing I want to explain at the beginning. This winter's experience has made a different person of me. I can never go back to the old life of a society woman, with perhaps a little charitable work thrown in. I want to come in touch with people—all sorts of people. I want to try experiments. I think I must have inherited some of my grandfather's business instincts. I haven't made any very definite plans, but I should like to start other shops such as this, where women who have some ability and the gift for making useful andbeautiful things can find their opportunity. I shall make mistakes, and lose money perhaps, but I want to experiment. I want you to understand how I feel, before—before—" Marion's eyes shone, a lovely flush was on her face as she hesitated.
Francis Landor took sudden possession of the yellow flowers, tossing them with scant courtesy on the table, and leaning forward he grasped her hands. "May, what has this to do with it? Does it crowd me out of your life? Since you were a little girl, since the days when we played together, you have been my help and inspiration. Do you mean this has come between us, or do you still care?"
Tears shone in Marion's eyes; she bent her head till it touched his shoulder. "Francis, I do care—I have always cared; I told Charlotte to tell you."
"You will forgive me if I am only half glad to see you, Mr. Landor," was Norah's greeting a little later. "Susanna, now, is wholly delighted. She sees the end of what has been to her a long exile, but I must needs go in search of another partner."
"Why not take me in as a third, Miss Norah? I believe I should like it."
"I shouldn't," she replied, laughing. "It would end in my playing third fiddle, and you must know this place isNorah'sArk; I am chief manager." She went off gayly, pausing at the door to ask, "You do not mind my speaking to Alex to-night, Marion?"
What happened in the course of her search for Alex, we have already seen.
The two in the shop were left undisturbed. It must have been nearly ten o'clock, which was considered late in the Terrace, when a voice was heard insisting, "I must see Miss Marion, Susanna, just for a minute. Is she here?" and Charlotte burst into the room.
"Oh, Miss Marion, I had half guessed,—I was not quite sure. Oh, I am so glad!" Oblivious to the presence of any one else she threw her arms about Miss Carpenter, who had risen hastily as she entered.
"What are you talking about, dearie?" she asked, returning the embrace of the excited girl.
"Where is that message you were told to deliver to me, Charlotte?" Mr. Landor demanded.
"Cousin Frank!" she cried, releasing Marion, "where did you come from?" Then glancing from one to the other, she added, "But you didn't wait for it. Oh, I am so glad!"
"You are a tremendous goose, Charlotte," said Marion, but she laughed. In fact they all three laughed a great deal in the course of the next few minutes.
"I have never exactly understood how you came to be so wise on this subject, Charlotte," Mr. Landor said, making her sit beside him.
"You know you never could keep anything to yourself, Francis," Miss Carpenter remarked reproachfully.
Charlotte looked mischievous. "The beginning of it was when I found those verses about the rose that was out of reach, and you were so provoked I thought they must mean something. Then Aunt Cora said—"
"Never mind Aunt Cora," Francis said, laughing; "this will do."
"I agree with you," remarked Marion.
"Charlotte, Miss Virginia is standing at the door. I know she is distracted over your absence," said Norah, entering.
"She knows I am here, but I mustn't stay," she rose regretfully.
Francis accompanied her. "And so you think your Miss Carpenter is lovelier than mine?" he remarked, as they crossed the street.
"Well, at least she is just as lovely," Charlotte answered blithely.
The news spread quickly. The Terrace was stirred to its depths. Life within its quiet borders was becoming exciting. The announcement of Madelaine's engagement with all the splendors in prospect would have sufficed for one season, but even this was eclipsed by the romance of the shop,—so named by Mrs. Leigh.
"Look like I already knowed Miss Marion was a rich lady," Aunt Belle was heard to declare. "Yes'm, she done carry her haid so proud-like."
In the shop many a serious conference was held by Marion, Norah, and Alexina, and at length Miss Sarah was called in. As a result, another surprise was sprung upon the Terrace. The corner shop was to be given up—Norah could not live there alone—and a new one opened in the spacious drawing-rooms of the Leigh house.Here there would be room to expand, Norah would have a home, and Miss Sarah would be freed from the necessity of boarders. There were those who held moreover that by this arrangement the enterprise acquired a new dignity. The idea originated with Mrs. Millard, who, while she did not give the shop her full approval, from henceforth withdrew all opposition.
Old Mrs. Leigh was heard to remark that she had in her life done many things she had not expected to do, but living over a shop was about the last.
"I suppose you'll agree it is better than the poorhouse, or even boarders," said her niece.
"Better? I am as proud of it as I can be," the old lady replied, and proud of it she seemed.
Norah called her their advertising agent. Her acquaintance was extensive, and at church or on the street, wherever she happened to be, she waylaid her friends and gave them a cordial invitation to visitourshop. On more than one occasion she constituted herself hostess. Recognizing from her window a familiar carriage, she would descend, dainty and bright-eyed, to enjoy a social chat, which would sometimes result in her holding areception, for everybody enjoyed her merry talk, and she was quickly made the centre of an interested group.
Miss Sarah was inclined to interfere, but Norah and Alex protested. They liked to have her. She was an added attraction. But all this was afterward.
It was on the last evening, as they walked arm in arm around the dismantled shop, that Marion said: "I am selfish about it, but I could not have endured to go away and have you go on without me in this dear little place where we have been so happy. How wonderfully everything has worked out! and it was all your doing."
"I don't know; I think we owe a great deal to our friend the rich Miss Carpenter." There was a mist in Norah's eyes, but she smiled.
Transcriber's Notes:Obvious punctuation errors repaired.One instance each of type-writer and typewriter were retained.The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
One instance each of type-writer and typewriter were retained.
The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.