by Sewell Ford
CHAPTER VII
CORNELIA SHOWS SOME CLASS
"Oh, by the way, Shorty," says Sadie to me the other mornin', just as I'mmakin' an early get-away for town.
"Another postscript, eh?" says I. "Well, let it come over speedy."
"It's something for Mrs. Purdy-Pell," says she. "I'd almost forgotten."
"Is it orderin' some fancy groceries, or sendin' out a new laundryartist?" says I. "If it is, why I guess I can----"
"No, no," says Sadie, givin' my tie an extra pat and brushin' someimaginary dust off my coat collar; "it's about Cousin Cornelia. She's intown, you know, and neither of the Purdy-Pells can get in to see herbefore next week on account of their garden party, and Cornelia isstaying at a hotel alone, and they're a little anxious about her. So lookher up, won't you? I told them you would. You don't mind, do you?"
"Me?" says I. "Why, I've been waitin' for this. Makin' afternoon calls onweepy old maids is my specialty."
"There, there!" says Sadie, followin' me out on the veranda. "Don't playthe martyr! Perhaps Cornelia isn't the most entertaining person in theworld, for she certainly has had her share of trouble; but it isn't goingto hurt you merely to find out how she is situated and ask if you can beof any help to her. You know, if there was anything she could do for us,she would----"
"Oh, sure!" says I. "If I'm ever brought home on a shutter, I shall lookfor Cornelia to be waitin' on the mat with a needle and thread, ready tosew mournin' bands on the help."
That seems to be Cousin Cornelia's steady job in life, tendin' out on thesick and being in at the obsequies. Anyway, she's been at it ever sincewe knew her. She's a cousin of Mr. Purdy-Pell's, and his branch of thefam'ly, being composed mainly of antiques and chronic invalids, has beenshufflin' off in one way or another for the last three or four years atthe rate of about one every six months.
Course, it was kind of sad to see a fam'ly peter out that way; but, as amatter of fact, most of 'em was better off. At first the Purdy-Pellsstarted in to chop all their social dates for three months after eachsorrowful event; but when they saw they was being let in for a continuousperformance, they sort of detailed Cousin Cornelia to do their heavymournin' and had a black edge put on their stationery.
Maybe Cornelia didn't exactly yearn for the portfolio; but she didn'thave much choice about taking it. She was kind of a hanger-on, Corneliawas, you see, and she was used to going where she was sent. So when wordwould come that Aunt Mehitabel's rheumatism was worse and was threatenin'her heart, that meant a hurry call for Cousin Cornelia. She'd pack acouple of suit cases full of black skirts and white shirtwaists, and offshe'd go, not showin' up again at the Purdy-Pells' town house until Auntyhad been safely planted and the headstone ordered.
You couldn't say but what she did it thorough, too; for she'd come backwearin' a long crape veil and lookin' pasty faced and wore out. Don'tknow as I ever saw her when she wa'n't either just comin' from wherethere'd been a funeral, or just startin' for where there was likely to beone.
So she didn't cut much of a figure in all the gay doin's the Purdy-Pellswas always mixed up in. And yet she wasn't such a kiln dried prune as youmight expect, after all. Rather a well built party, Cornelia was, with aface that would pass in a crowd, and a sort of longin' twist to her mouthcorners as if she wanted to crack a smile now and then, providin' thechance would only come her way.
And it wa'n't hardly a square deal to list her with the U.B.'s as soon aswe did; for all this time she was doing the chief mourner act she wasengaged to young Durgin. First off it was understood that she was waitin'for him to settle on whether he was goin' to be a minister or a doctor,him fiddlin' round at college, now takin' one course and then another;but at last he makes up his mind to chuck both propositions and take ahack at the law.
Durgin got there, too, which was more or less of a surprise to all hands,and actually broke in as partner in a good firm. Then it was a case ofDurgin waitin' for Cornelia; for about that time the relations got todroppin' off in one-two-three order, and she seemed to think that so longas she'd started in on the job of ridin' in the first carriage, she oughtto see it through.
Whether it was foolish of her or not, ain't worth while debatin' now.Anyhow, she stuck to it until the last one had cashed in, puttin' Durginoff from month to month and year to year. Then it turns out that the lastof the bunch, Uncle Theodore, had left her a good-sized wad thatPurdy-Pell had always supposed was comin' to him, but which he didn'tgrudge to Cornelia a bit.
So there she was, all the lingerin' ones off her hands, and her sportin'a bank account of her own. She's some tired out, though; so, aftersendin' Durgin word that they might as well wait until fall now, shehikes off to some little place in New Hampshire and spends the summerrestin' up. Next she comes down unexpected and hits New York.
In the meantime, though, Durgin has suddenly decided to scratch his entryfor that partic'lar Matrimonial Handicap. Not that he's seriouslyint'rested in somebody else, but he's kind of got weary hangin' around,and he's seen a few livelier ones than Cornelia, and he feels thatsomehow him and her have made a great mistake. You know how they're aptto talk when they get chilly below the ankles? He don't hand thisstraight out to Cornelia, mind you, but goes to Mrs. Purdy-Pell and Sadiewith the tale, wantin' to know what he'd better do.
Now I ain't got any grouch against Durgin. He's all right, I expect, inhis way, more or less of a stiff necked, mealy mouthed chump, I alwaysthought; but they say he's nice to his old mother, and he's makin' goodin the law business, and he ain't bad to look at. The women folks takeshis side right off. They say they don't blame him a bit, and, withoutstoppin' to think how Cousin Cornelia is going to feel left alone thereon the siding, they get busy pickin' out new candidates for Durgin tochoose from.
Well, that's the situation when I'm handed this assignment to go andinspect the head of the Purdy-Pells' obituary department and see if she'sall comfy. Couldn't have weighed very heavy on my mind; for I don't thinkof it until late afternoon, just as I'm startin' to pull out for home.Then I says to myself that maybe it'll do just as well if I ring her upon the 'phone at her hotel. She's in, all right, and I explains over thewire how anxious I am to know if she's all right, and hopes nobody hastried to kidnap her yet, and asks if there's anything I can do.
"Why, how kind of you, Mr. McCabe!" says Cornelia. "Yes, I am perfectlywell and quite safe here."
"Good!" says I. And then, seein' how easy I was gettin' out of it, I hasto pile on the agony a little by addin', "Ain't there some way I can beuseful, though? No errands you want done, or any place you'd like to betowed around to, eh?"
"Why--why----" says she, hesitatin'. "Oh, but I couldn't think oftroubling you, you know."
"Why not?" says I, gettin' reckless. "Just remember that I'd be tickledto death, any time you push the button."
"We-e-ell," says she, "we were just wishing, Miss Stover and I, that wedid have some gentleman friend who would----"
"Count me in," says I. "What's the game? Trip to Woodlawn Cemetery someday, or do you want to be piloted up to Grant's Tomb?"
No, it wa'n't either of them festive splurges she had in mind. Theywanted a dinner escort for that evenin', she and Miss Stover. The otherlady, she goes on to say, is a school teacher from up Boston way, thatshe'd made friends with durin' the summer. Miss Stover was takin' a yearoff, for the benefit of her nerves, and before she sailed on her Cook'strip abroad she thought she'd like to see a little of New York. They'dbeen tryin' to knock around some alone, and had got along all rightdaytimes, but hadn't dared venture out much at night. So if I wanted tobe real generous, and it wouldn't be too much of a bore, they'd be verythankful if I would----
"In a minute," says I and, seein' I was up against it anyhow, I thought Imight as well do it cheerful. "I'll be up about six, eh?"
"Chee!" says Swifty Joe, who always has his ear stretched out on suchoccasions, "you make a noise like you was fixin' up a date."
"What good hearin' you have, Swifty!" says I. "Some day, though,
you'llstrain one of them side flaps of yours. Yes, this is a date, and it'swith two of the sportiest female parties that ever dodged an old ladies'home."
Excitin' proposition, wa'n't it? I spends the next half-hour battin' myhead to think of some first class food parlor where I could cart a couplelike this Boston schoolma'am and Cousin Cornelia without shockin' 'em.There was the Martha Washington; but I knew I'd be barred there. Alsothere was some quiet fam'ly hotels I'd heard of up town; but I couldn'tremember exactly what street any of 'em was on.
"Maybe Cornelia will have some plans of her own," thinks I, as I getsinto my silk faced dinner jacket and V-cut vest. "And I hope she ain'twearin' more'n two thicknesses of crape veil now."
Well, soon after six I slides out, hops on one of these shed-as-you-entersurface cars, and rides up to the hotel. I'd been holdin' down one of thevelvet chairs in the ladies' parlor for near half an hour, and waswonderin' if Cornelia had run out of black headed pins, or what, when Ipipes off a giddy specimen in wistaria costume that drifts in and beginssquintin' around like she was huntin' for some one. Next thing I knewshe'd spotted me and was sailin' right over.
"Oh, there you are!" she gurgles, holdin' out her hand.
"Excuse me, lady," says I, sidesteppin' behind the chair, "but ain't youtryin' to tag the wrong party?"
"Why," says she, lettin' out a chuckle, "don't you know me, Mr. McCabe?"
"Not yet," says I; "but it looks like I would if----Great snakes!"
And honest, you could hardly have covered my face cavity with a waffleiron when I drops to the fact that it's Cousin Cornelia. In place of thedismal female I'd been expectin', here's a chirky party in vivid regaliathat shows class in every line. Oh, it's a happy days uniform, all right,from the wide brimmed gauze lid with the long heliotrope feather trailin'over one side, to the lavender kid pumps.
"Gee!" I gasps. "The round is on me, Miss Cornelia. But I wa'n't lookin'for you in--in----"
"I know," says she. "This is the first time I've worn colors for years,and I feel so odd. I hope I don't look too----"
"You look all to the skookum," says I.
It wa'n't any jolly, either. There never was any real sharp angles toCornelia, and now I come to reckon up I couldn't place her as more'ntwenty-six or twenty-seven at the outside. So why shouldn't she show upfairly well in a Gibson model?
"It's so good of you to come to our rescue," says she. "Miss Stover willbe down presently. Now, where shall we go to dinner?"
Well, I see in a minute I've got to revise my plans; so I begins namin'over some of the swell grillrooms and cafes.
"Oh, we have been to most of those, all by ourselves," says Cornelia."What we would like to see to-night is some real--well, a place where wecouldn't go alone, out somewhere--an automobile resort, for instance."
"Whe-e-ew!" says I through my front teeth. "Say, Miss Cornie, but you aregettin' out of the bereft class for fair! I guess it's comin' to you,though. Now jest let me get an idea of how far you want to go."
"Why," says she, shruggin' her shoulders,--"how is it you put suchthings?--the limit, I suppose?"
"Honest?" says I. "Then how about Clover Blossom Inn?"
Heard about that joint, haven't you? Of course. There's a lot of joy-ridetank stations strung along Jerome-ave. and the Yonkers road; but when itcomes to a genuine tabasco flavored chorus girls' rest, the CloverBlossom has most of the others lookin' like playgrounds for littlemothers. But Cornie don't do any dodgin'.
"Fine!" says she. "I've read about that inn." Then she hurries on to planout the details. I must go over to Times Square and hire a nice lookingtouring car for the evening. And I mustn't let Miss Stover know how muchit costs; for Cornelia wants to do that part of it by her lonely.
"The dinner we are to go shares on," says she.
"Couldn't think of it," says I. "Let that stand as my blow."
"No, indeed," says Cornelia. "We have the money all put aside, and Isha'n't like it. Here it is, and I want you to be sure you spend thewhole of it," and with that she shoves over a couple of fives.
I couldn't help grinnin' as I takes it. Maybe you've settled a dinnerbill for three and a feed for the shofer at the Clover Blossom; but notwith a ten-spot, eh?
And while Cornelia is goin' back in the elevator after the schoolma'am, Iscoots over to get a machine. After convincin' two or three of themleather capped pirates that I didn't want to buy their blamed outfits, Ifin'lly beats one down to twenty-five and goes back after the ladies.
"Cornelia whispered about the peroxide puffed girl"]
Miss Stover don't turn out to be any such star as Cornelia; but she don'tlook so much like a suffragette as I expected. She's plump, and middleaged, and plain dressed; but there's more or less style to the way shecarries herself. Also she has just a suspicion of eye twinkle behind theglasses, which suggests that perhaps some of this programme is due toher.
"All aboard for the Clover Blossom!" says I, handin' 'em into thetonneau; "that is, as soon as I run in here to the telephone booth."
It had come to me only at that minute what a shame it was this stunt ofCornelia's was goin' to be wasted on an audience that couldn't appreciatethe fine points, and I'd thought of a scheme that might supply the gap.So I calls up an old friend of mine and has a little confab.
By the time we'd crossed the Harlem and had got straightened out on theparkway with our gas lamps lighted, and the moon comin' up over thetrees, and hundreds of other cars whizzin' along in both directions,Cornelia and her schoolma'am friend was chatterin' away like a couple ofboardin' school girls. There's no denyin' that it does get into yourblood, that sort of ridin'. Why, even I begun to feel some frisky!
And look at Cornelia! For years she'd been givin' directions about whereto put the floral wreaths, and listenin' to wills being read, and allsummer long she'd been buried in a little backwoods boardin' house, wherethe most excitin' event of the day was watchin' the cows come home, orgoing down for the mail. Can you blame her for workin' up a cheek flushand rattlin' off nonsense?
Clover Blossom Inn does look fine and fancy at night, too, with all thecolored lights strung around, and the verandas crowded with tables, andthe Gypsy orchestra sawin' away, and new parties landin' from thelimousines every few minutes. Course, I knew they'd run against perfectladies hittin' up cocktails and cigarettes in the cloak room, and hearmore or less high spiced remarks; but this was what they'd picked out toview.
So I orders the brand of dinner the waiter hints I ought to have,--littlenecks, okra soup, broiled lobster, guinea hen, and so on, with a largebottle of fizz decoratin' the silver tub on the side and some sportylookin' mineral for me. It don't make any diff'rence whether you've got awealthy water thirst or not, when you go to one of them tootsy palacesyou might just as well name your vintage first as last; for any cheapskates of suds consumers is apt to find that the waiter's made a mistakeand their table has been reserved for someone else.
But if you don't mind payin' four prices, and can stand the comp'ny atthe adjoinin' tables, just being part of the picture and seeing it fromthe inside is almost worth the admission. If there's any livelier purplespots on the map than these gasolene road houses from eight-thirty P. M.to two-thirty in the mornin', I'll let you name 'em.
Cornelia rather shies at the sight of the fat bottle peekin' out of thecracked ice; but she gets over that feelin' after Miss Stover hasexpressed her sentiments.
"Champagne!" says the schoolma'am. "Oh, how perfectly delightful! Do youknow, I always have wanted to know how it tasted."
Say, she knows all about it now. Not that she put away any more'n a ladyshould,--at the Clover Blossom,--but she had tackled a dry Martini first,and then she kept on tastin' and tastin' her glass of fizz, and thewaiter keeps fillin' it up, and that twinkle in her eye develops more andmore, and her conversation gets livelier and livelier. So doesCornelia's. They gets off some real bright things, too. You'd never guessthere was so much fun in Cornie, or that she could look so much like astunner.
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nbsp; She was just leanin' over to whisper something to me about the peroxidepuffed girl at the next table, and I was tryin' to stand bein' tickled inthe neck by that long feather of hers while I listens, and Miss Stoverwas snuggled up real chummy on the other side, when I looks up the aisleand sees a little group watchin' us with their mouths open and theireyebrows up.
Leadin' the way is Pinckney. Oh, he'd done his part, all right, just asI'd told him over the wire; for right behind him is Durgin, starin' atCornelia until he was pop eyed.
But that wa'n't all. Trust Pinckney to add something. Beyond Durgin isMrs. Purdy-Pell--and Sadie. Now, I've seen Mrs. McCabe when she's beensome jarred; but I don't know as I ever watched the effect of such a joltas this. You see, Cornelia's back was to her, and all Sadie can see isthat wistaria lid with the feather danglin' down my neck.
Sadie don't indulge in any preliminaries. She marches right along, withher chin in the air, and glues them Irish blue eyes of hers on me in away I can feel yet. "Well, I must say!" says she.
"Eh?" says I, tryin' hard to put on a pleased grin. "So Pinckney broughtyou along too, did he? Lovely evenin', ain't it?"
"Why, Sadie?" says Cornelia, jumpin' up and givin' 'em a full face view.And you should have seen how that knocks the wind out of Sadie.
"Wha-a-at!" says she. "You?"
"Of course," says Cornie. "And we're just having the grandest lark,and----Oh! Why, Durgin! Where in the world did you come from? Howjolly!"
"Ain't it?" says I. "You see, Sadie, I'm carryin' out instructions."
Well, the minute she gets wise that it's all a job that Pinckney and Ihave put up between us, and discovers that my giddy lookin' friend isonly Cousin Cornelia doin' the butterfly act, the thunder storm is allover. The waiter shoves up another table, and they plants Durgin next toCornie, and the festivities takes a new start.
Did Durgin boy forget all about them chilly feet of his? Why, you couldalmost see the frost startin' out before he'd said a dozen words, and bythe time he'd let the whole effect sink in, he was no nearer contractin'chilblains than a Zulu with his heels in the campfire.
What pleases me most, though, was the scientific duck I made in the lastround. We'd gone clear through the menu, and they was finishin' up theircordials, when I spots the waiter comin' with a slip of paper on his trayas long as a pianola roll.
"Hey, Pinckney," says I, "see what's comin' now!"
And when Pinckney reached around and discovers what it is, he digs downfor his roll like a true sport, never battin' an eyelash.
"You would ring in the fam'ly on me, would you," says I, "when I'mshowin' lady friends the sights?"