The Corner House Girls

by Grace Brooks Hill

  CHAPTER XVII

  "MRS. TROUBLE"

  "You girls go through this pantry," complained Mrs. McCall, "like theplague of locusts. There isn't a doughnut left. Nor a sugar cookie. Imanaged to save some of the seed-cakes for tea, if you should havecompany, by hiding them away.

  "I honestly thought I made four apple pies on Monday; I can't accountbut for three of them. A hearty appetite is a good gift; but I shouldsuggest more bread and butter between meals, and less sweets."

  Ruth took the matter up with the Corner House girls in conventionassembled:

  "Here it is only Thursday, and practically all the week's baking isgone. We must restrain ourselves, children. Remember how it used to bea real event, when we could bake a raisin cake on Saturday? We have noright to indulge our tastes for sweets, as Mrs. McCall says. Whoknows? We may have to go back to the hard fare of Bloomingsburg again,sometime."

  "Oh, never!" cried Agnes, in alarm.

  "You don't mean that, sister?" asked Tess, worried.

  "Then we'd better eat all the good things we can, now," Dot, themodern philosopher, declared.

  "You don't mean that, Ruth," said Agnes, repeating Tess' words. "Thereis no doubt but that Uncle Peter meant us to have this house and allhis money, and we'll have it for good."

  "Not for bad, I hope, at any rate," sighed Ruth. "But we must mindwhat Mrs. McCall says about putting our hands in the cookie jars."

  "But, if we get hungry?" Agnes declared.

  "Then bread and butter will taste good to us," finished Ruth.

  "I am sure I haven't been at the cookie jar any more than usual thisweek," the twelve-year-old said.

  "Nor me," Tess added.

  "Maybe Sandy did it," suggested Dot. "She ate up all the dolls'dinner--greedy thing!"

  Agnes was puzzled. She said to the oldest Corner House girl when thelittle ones were out of earshot:

  "I wonder if it _was_ that cat that ate the dolls' feast yesterday?"

  "How else could it have disappeared?" demanded Ruth.

  "But a cat eating cream walnuts!"

  "I don't know," said Ruth. "But of course, it wasn't Sandy-face thathas been dipping into the cookie jars. We must be good, Agnes. I tellyou that we may be down to short commons again, as we used to be inBloomingsburg. We must be careful."

  Just why Ruth seemed to wish to economize, Agnes could not understand.Her older sister puzzled Agnes. Instead of taking the good things thathad come into their lives here at the old Corner House with joy, Ruthseemed to be more than ever worried. At least, Agnes was sure thatRuth smiled even less frequently than had been her wont.

  When Ruth chanced to be alone with Miss Titus, instead of her mindbeing fixed upon dressmaking details, she was striving to gather fromthe seamstress more particulars of those strange claimants to UnclePeter's estate.

  Not that Miss Titus had much to tell. She had only surmises to offer.Mrs. Bean, though claiming to know the people very well, had told thespinster lady very little about them.

  "Their names is Treble, I understand," said Miss Titus. "I never heardof no family of Trebles living in Milton here--no, Ma'am! But youcan't tell. Folks claiming relationship always turn up awfulunexpected where there's money to be divided."

  "Mother was only half sister to Uncle Peter," said Ruth, reflectively."But Uncle Peter was never married."

  "Not as anybody in Milton ever heard on," admitted Miss Titus.

  "Do you suppose Aunt Sarah would know who these people are?" queriedRuth.

  "You can just take it from me," said Miss Titus, briskly, "that SallyMaltby never knew much about Peter's private affairs. Never half asmuch as she claimed to know, and not a quarter of what she'd _liked_to have known!

  "That's why she had to get out of the old Corner House----"

  "Did she _have_ to?" interrupted Ruth, quickly.

  "Yes, she did," said the seamstress, nodding confidently. "Althoughold Mr. Stower promised her mother she should have shelter here aslong as Sally lived, he died without making a will. Mrs.Maltby-that-was, died first. So there wasn't any legal claim SallyMaltby could make. She stayed here only by Peter's sufferance, and shecouldn't be content.

  "Sally learned only one lesson--that of keeping her tongue between herteeth," pursued Miss Titus. "Peter declared she was always snoopingaround, and watching and listening. Sally always was a stubborn thing,and she had got it into her head that she had rights here--which ofcourse, she never had.

  "So finally Peter forbade her coming into the front part of the houseat all; then she went to live with your folks, and Peter washed hishands of her. I expect, like all misers, Peter wanted to hide thingsabout the old house and didn't want to be watched. Do you know ifHowbridge found much of the old man's hidings?"

  "I do not know about that," said Ruth, smiling. "But Uncle Rufusthinks Uncle Peter used to hide things away in the garret."

  "In the garret?" cried Miss Titus, shrilly. "Well, then! they'd staythere for all of me. I wouldn't hunt up there for a pot of gold!"

  Nor would Ruth--for she did not expect any such hoard as that had beenhidden away in the garret by Uncle Peter. She often looked curiouslyat Aunt Sarah, however, when she sat with the old lady, tempted to askher point-blank what she knew about Uncle Peter's secrets.

  When a person is as silent as Aunt Sarah habitually was, it is onlynatural to surmise that the silent one may have much to tell. Ruth hadnot the courage, however, to advance the subject. She, like heryounger sisters, stood in no little awe of grim Aunt Sarah.

  Mr. Howbridge remained away and Miss Titus completed such work as Ruthdared have done, and removed her machine and cutting table from theold Corner House. The days passed for the Kenway girls in cheerfuloccupations and such simple pleasures as they had been used to alltheir lives.

  Agnes would, as she frankly said, have been glad to "make a splurge."She begged to give a party to the few girls they had met but Ruthwould not listen to any such thing.

  "I think it's mean!" Aggie complained. "We want to get folks to cominghere. If they think the old house is haunted, we want to prove to themthat it is haunted only by the Spirit of Hospitality."

  "Very fine! very fine!" laughed Ruth. "But we shall have to wait forthat, until we are more secure in our footing here."

  "'More secure!'" repeated Agnes. "When will that ever be? I don'tbelieve Mr. Howbridge will ever find Uncle Peter's will. I'd like tohunt myself for it."

  "And perhaps _that_ might not be a bad idea," sighed Ruth, to herself."Perhaps we ought to search the old house from cellar to garret forUncle Peter's hidden papers."

  Something happened, however, before she could carry out thishalf-formed intention. Tess and Dot had gone down Main Street on anerrand for Ruth. Coming back toward the old Corner House, they sawbefore them a tall, dark lady, dressed in a long summer mantle, a lacebonnet, and other bits of finery that marked her as different from theordinary Milton matron doing her morning's marketing. She had a littlegirl with her.

  "I never saw those folks before," said Dot to Tess.

  "No. They must be strangers. That little girl is wearing a prettydress, isn't she?"

  Tess and Dot came abreast of the two. The little girl _was_ veryshowily dressed. Her pink and white face was very angelic in itsexpression--while in repose. But she chanced to look around and seethe Kenway girls looking at her, and instantly she stuck out hertongue and made a face.

  "Oh, dear! She's worse than that Mabel Creamer," said Tess, and shetook Dot's hand and would have hurried by, had the lady not stoppedthem.

  "Little girls! little girls!" she said, commandingly. "Tell me wherethe house is, in which Mr. Peter Stower lived. It is up this waysomewhere they told me at the station."

  "Oh, yes, Ma'am," said Tess, politely. "It is the old CornerHouse--_our_ house."

  "_Your_ house?" said the tall lady, sharply. "What do you mean bythat?"

  "We live there," said Tess, bravely. "We are two of the Kenway girls.Then there are Ruth and Agnes. And Aunt Sarah. We all l
ive there."

  "You reside in Mr. Peter Stower's house?" said the lady, withemphasis, and looking not at all pleasant, Tess thought. "How longhave you resided there?"

  "Ever since we came to Milton. We were Uncle Peter's only relations,so Mr. Howbridge came for us and put us in the house," explained Tess,gravely.

  "Mr. Stower's only relatives?" repeated the lady, haughtily. "We willsee about _that_. You may lead on to the house. At least, I am sure wehave as much right there as a parcel of girls."

  Tess and Dot were troubled, but they led the way. Agnes and Ruth wereon the big front porch sewing and they saw the procession enter thegate.

  "Goodness me! who's this coming?" asked Agnes, eyeing the dark ladywith startled curiosity. "Looks as though she owned the place."

  "Oh, Agnes!" gasped Ruth, and sprang to her feet. She met the lady atthe steps.

  "Who are you?" asked the stranger, sourly.

  "I am Ruth Kenway. Did you--you wish to see me, Ma'am?"

  "I don't care whom I see," the lady answered decisively, marchingright up the steps and leading the angel-faced little girl by thehand. "I want you to know that I am Mrs. Treble. Mrs. John AugustusTreble. My daughter Lillie (stand straight, child!) and I, have beenliving in Michigan. John Augustus has been dead five years. He wasblown up in a powder-mill explosion, so I can prove his death veryeasily. So, when I heard that my husband's uncle, Mr. Peter Stower,was dead here in Milton, I decided to come on and get Lillie's shareof the property."

  "Oh!" murmured Ruth and Agnes, in chorus.

  "I am not sure that, as John Augustus Treble's widow, my claims to theestate do not come clearly ahead of _yours_. I understand that youKenway girls are merely here on sufferance, and that the ties ofrelationship between you and Mr. Peter Stower are very scant indeed.Of course, I suppose the courts will have to decide the matter, butmeanwhile you may show me to my room. I don't care to pay a hotelbill, and it looks to me as though there were plenty of rooms, and tospare, in this ugly old house."

  Ruth was left breathless. But Agnes was able to whisper in hersister's ear:

  "'Mrs. Treble' indeed! She looks to me, Ruth, a whole lot like 'Mrs.Trouble.' What _shall_ we do?"