CHAPTER XVIII.OLD FRIENDS.
The door of the little parlor opened, and Mrs. Smith stood in the passage. From her place behind the counter she had seen the splendor of that carriage before Mrs. Laurence’s gate, and could stand the cravings of her curiosity no longer. She had held herself as a sort of proprietor of the Laurence family after that famous supper, and felt that any visitor who stopped at that little gate was a guest for herself. At first she rather hesitated to put in her claim; but when a half hour, then an hour went by, and that glittering mass of black and gold still kept its place, the position became tantalizing.
Leaving Boyce behind the counter, the good woman tied on her best bonnet, flung a shawl over her broad shoulders, and made her way down the street, burning with curiosity, and just a little jealous that so much distinction had come to her friend, in which she had no part. Standing there in the entry-way, she hesitated, overpowered by a first glance of the richly-dressed lady who seemed to fill up the little parlor with the splendor of her presence.
Mrs. Carter had hastily put on her company manners, and sat in state, fanning herself with her still moist handkerchief.
All at once, Mrs. Smith started forward, her eyes glistening, and her shawl floating away from the grasp of her hand.
“Mrs. Carter! Well, I never did——”
“Mrs. Smith! Is this you?”
For the moment, both women were natural. Mrs. Carter forgot herself and her finery in the honest delight of meeting an old friend. Mrs. Smith, a little dazzled andbewildered, came forward with both arms held out, and would have embraced her former crony, but for a sudden consciousness of the silks, and laces, and heavy gold bracelets with which the latter was metamorphosed. This brought the arms slowly down to her side, and left her lips, from which the broad smile was vanishing, half apart.
Mrs. Carter broke into a mellow laugh, and held out both hands.
“So you didn’t more’n half know me, Mrs. Smith? No wonder! Sometimes I don’t know myself. But how do you do? How are the children and Smith? Is he stout and jolly as ever?”
Mrs. Smith remembered that she had been cutting cheese just before she left the grocery, and wiped one hand on the corner of her shawl before she gave it into the clasp of those straw-colored gloves, smiling gingerly, as if she were afraid of hurting them. But Mrs. Carter was herself that day; a breath of secret human sympathy had swept the chaff from her really good heart, and, for the time, her magnificence was forgotten.
“Well, now,” said Mrs. Smith, recovering herself under this hearty treatment. “It’s good for weak eyes to see you again, Mrs. Carter; I went around to the old house, nigh on to a year ago, and inquired about you, but they said you had moved away no one knew where; so I gave you up for a bad job.
“A bad job, ha! Well, I wonder what Carter would say?Hedon’t think it a bad job, you bet! Just look out there, Smith, and tell me what you think of that?”
Mrs. Smith leaned toward the window, and took in a view of the carriage, with the two men sitting impatiently in the coachman’s seat.
“Do you really mean that, Mrs. Carter?”
“That, and an open carriage, besides a couper for Carter, and two saddle-horses, in case Carter and I might want to take lessons and ride in the Park together.”
“But how, Mrs. Carter, how?” inquired Mrs. Smith, open-mouthed with wonder.
“You know Carter got into the feed-business; that led him to hosses and mules, and sich. Well, the army wanted hosses; Carter went in under contract. Then the hosses wanted feed, he went in under contract again. Then he got into produce, which kept a running up and down, for ever so long; there he made and made, keeping his eye-teeth sharp, you know.”
“Mercy on me! You take away my breath, Mrs. Carter!”
“No wonder; it took mine away more than once. After this, he hooked in with a clothing-house, and that was the best of all. Everything substantial but the clothes. Well, these things rolled up, and this is just what it has come to.”
Here Mrs. Carter spread her two hands, and rustled her garments with a jovial laugh, while her old friend stepped back and surveyed her from head to foot, with glowing admiration.
“And you don’t seem a bit different,” she broke forth at length.
Mrs. Carter flushed red, and drew the lace shawl about her with emphatic protest.
“You think so, Mrs. Smith; but others are of a different opinion.”
Mrs. Smith, for the first time, felt rebuffed, and answered, meekly,
“You were asking about Smith. He’s been a-doing very well—very well, indeed; in the grocery line, though. You can see our store from the front yard here.”
Mrs. Carter leaned out of the window, and took a survey of her friend’s place of business, which had a respectable show of prosperity.
“That looks like living,” she said; “and I’m right down glad of it.”
“We live over the store, snug and comfortable,” answered Mrs. Smith, highly pleased.
“Children all alive?” inquired Mrs. Carter, with hesitation.
“Alive and hearty, thank goodness!”
Mrs. Carter heaved a deep sigh. “Smith,” she said, “I should like to take a look at your young ones. I’m not used to seeing children, in these days, crowding the doors by dozens, as they did in our old neighborhood, where Smith and Carter were such friends, and you and I—— Well, never mind about that. I haven’t forgotten it. Wait a minute, I’m going home with you. Good-bye, little girl. Don’t she look like a lily, lying there?”
“She’s got a lovely color,” answered Mrs. Smith. “I never saw the like of it on her cheek before. But where is Mrs. Laurence? Always at work? Mrs. Laurence, I say! My friend, Mrs. Carter, is going.”
Mrs. Laurence came into the room, stiff and cold as marble. The softening effects of her illness had worn off, and so had the little gleam of sunshine, brought to her door by the kind woman who was calling her from the kitchen, to which she had retreated the moment Mrs. Carter became interested in Ruth; thus she was entirely ignorant of the event which had so suddenly lifted the invalid into Paradise.
“I had something to do,” she said, by way of grim apology, as Mrs. Carter held out her hand.
“Never mind that! I know what it is to do my own work—don’t I, Smith?”
“I should rather think so,” answered Mrs. Smith, glowing with intense satisfaction.
“With regard to the young lady, of course, we shall expect her. I will send the carriage round, and Ross shall come with it. Be sure that she is ready. He has set his heart upon it, and so have I.”
Mrs. Laurence muttered something about being hard-workingpeople, and quite out of such things; but Ruth interposed, and made confident by the money under her pillow lifted her radiant face, and said, with, a thrill of triumph in her voice,
“Oh, yes, mother, dear! Eva will go. She will like it. Please do not refuse till we have talked it over.”
“That’s right! I leave it all with you, my pretty darling; so, good-day; I mean to call again, very soon. Come, Mrs. Smith, we’ll drive round the block, and see how you like it,” said Mrs. Carter.