CHAPTER XXI. THE CLOSING OF SCHOOL
Janice heard from Gummy and Amy just how Abel Strout acted andwhat he said when he came to see their mother about the renewalof the mortgage and the payment of the half year's interest.Gummy was very much excited over it.
"You strought to see that Stout man, anyway--"
"Oh, dear, me, Gummy, there you go again!" gasped Janice, withlaughter, while the boy's sister giggled desperately, too.
"What's the matter now?" he demanded, in some surprise.
"Another lapsus linguae--I looked it up, and that is what theycall it," said Janice."Say! Why don't you talk so people can understand you?" Gummydemanded. "Don't talk Latin to a fellow."
"And you sounded as though you were using 'pig-Latin,'" laughedAmy. "You said we "strought' to see Mr. 'Stout'."
"Oh! Jicksy! Did I?" exclaimed the boy. I'm always saying onething and meaning another, aren't I? Is that a lapsus linguae?
"It is in this case, Gummy. But go on--do."
"Well, Mr. Strout looks just like a piece of that green-speckledcheese Mr. Hardman has in his showcase --in the face, I mean."
"In the face of the showcase?" giggled Amy.
"Or the face of the cheese?" asked Janice demurely.
"Now, say, you girls go too far," complained Gummy, yetgood-naturedly. "I mean Strout's face. It looks like thecheese, for he's all speckled. And the cheese is calledRockyford and tastes funnier than it looks."
"Oh, oh!" cried Janice, "you've got your cheese mixed with melonsthis time. It is Rockyford melons and Roquefort cheese."
"Jicksy! They sound pretty near the same," grumbled Gummy."Anyhow, that is how Abel Strout looks in the face--speckled.And he came in, in that yellow dust-coat of his, looking like apeeled sapling--so long and lean."
"My, what a wealth of description you have at your tongue's end,"cried Janice, still in a gale of laughter. "A face likeRoquefort cheese with a figure like a peeled sapling. Well!"
"You keep on you girls, and I won't ever get anywhere,"complained Gummy.
"Go on, Gummy," urged Janice.
"Well, he was just as nasty-mean as he always is. The only timeI ever saw him pleasant was when he was wheedling mother out ofher money before she bought the house. But he started in realbossy this time."
"I should say he did," agreed Amy, feelingly.
"'Well, Mrs. Carringford,' said Strout, 'I hope you are ready totake up that mortgage right now, without no hanging back.' Heknew of course that mother didn't have a whole thousand dollarsleft--no, sir! He knows all right just what she had in thebeginning, and that we've been living off it for more than ayear," said Gummy.
"So mother told him she could not take up the mortgage. That shedid not dare put any more money into the place --except theinterest and the taxes--until prospects were brighter.
"'Well,' he said--mean old hunks!--'money is dreadfultight right now, and I don't see how I can let you havea thousand any longer. 'Tain't in the bill ofagreement.'
"Mother said: 'Mr. Strout, when you sold me the place you said Icould have plenty of time to pay for it. You knew my childrenwere small and that I could not do much toward paying themortgage until they grew bigger and could help.'
"'You got anything like that writ into your contract?' asked Mr.Strout.
"'It was verbally understood,' said mother.
"'That don't mean nothin' in business,' said Strout. 'I mighttell you the moon was made o' green cheese, but I wouldn'tguarantee it. Talk's one thing; a written guarantee is another.That mortgage is writ for a year, and the year is up.'
"Oh!" exclaimed Gummy hotly, "I could have hit him for speakingso mean to my mother."
"I don't blame you," Janice said sympathetically. "But nevermind. Tell the rest."
"Why, all mother could say was what your father told' her to say.She said: 'You said when you were here several weeks ago that youwould let me pay off some of the principal and let the mortgagestand.'
"'How much?' he snapped at her--just like a hungry dogat a bone, you know," continued Gummy.
"'I will spare fifty dollars,' said mother.
"'Fifty fiddlestrings!' shouted Strout. 'Won't hear to it!Won't listen to it!'
"But already, you see," chuckled Gummy, "mother had pushed theinterest money toward him across the table. He grabbed it. Hecouldn't keep his hands off real money, I guess--his own oranybody else's."
"Oh, Gummy!" murmured Amy.
"Well, didn't he just act so?" cried the boy. "Why, he countedthat interest money just as hungrily! And he folded it and putit in his wallet."
"You tell it just as it was," sighed Amy. "Of course I do. Well,mother said: 'You can give me my receipt for that, Mr. Strout, ifyou don't mind.' And then he did go off the handle!" chortledGummy. "You see, he had tricked himself."
"How was that, Gummy?" Janice asked wonderingly.
"He made mother pay interest on the note six months in advance.When he accepted that interest he--what do you call it?--Oh! Hetacitly renewed the note, which runs what they call concurrentlywith the mortgage. So the mortgage is good for another year."
"Oh! Is that what daddy told your mother to do?" cried Janice."Now I understand." exclaimed the delightedGummy.
"Oh! Daddy didn't mean it as a trick--"
"Not a tricky trick," explained Gummy volubly. "Of course not.But mother just let Mr. Strout trick himself. When he saw whathe had done he tried to hand the money back; but mother said:
"'Oh, no, sir!, You can give me the written receipt or not, justas you please. Both of these children'-- that's Amy and me--'sawme give you the money and know its purpose. Their testimony isgood in court.
You have refused any payment on the principal of the mortgage;but you have accepted interest for the ensuing six months. Youhave therefore renewed the note for a year, as it is written fora year.'
"Oh, wasn't Strout mad!" chuckled Gummy.
"And I was proud of mamma," added Amy.
"You bet! Strout said to mother: 'Somebody's been talking toyou--I can see that.'
"'Yes, they have,' she told him. 'And somebody who knows youvery well, Mr. Strout.' Meaning your father, Janice, of course.
"'So you think you will hold on to this shack and make somethingon it, do you?' he remarked.
"'At least,' mother answered, 'I hope to keep it for a shelterfor my children and not lose what I have put in it.'
"'Well,' said he, in such a nasty tone! 'You just wait!' And thenhe stamped out of the house."
"Oh, but I am afraid of him," sighed Amy. "He spoke sothreateningly."
"Yes, Momsy and Amy think he has something up his sleeve," saidGummy, carelessly. "But I think Abel Strout is licked, thanks toMr. Day."
Janice was very careful to repeat the particulars of this sceneGummy had so vividly related to her father in the evening.
"Maybe he has something 'up his sleeve,' as Gummy says," Janiceobserved. "Can that be possible, do you think, Daddy?"
"Well, it is hard to say. Now that I have gone into this thingfor Mrs. Carringford, I suppose I might go a little deeper. Doyou know if she had the title to that property searched beforeshe bought it?"
"I'll ask her, Daddy."
"Don't ask in a way to frighten her," advised Mr. Day, on secondthought. "It may be all right. Just ask her who looked up thetitle. Tell her I will have the money ready for her to take upStrout's mortgage when it becomes due next time; but thatmeanwhile I shall have to have the title searched if that was notdone before."
"Oh, Daddy! do you believe there could be some--some--"
"Some flaw in it?" asked her father, supplying the word thatJanice had heard but could not remember.
"Yes."
"There might be. This is an old part of Greensboro, and some ofthe old titles conflicted."
"But then Mrs. Carringford would not have to lose, would she?Wouldn't Mr. Strout have to give her back her money?"
"Perhaps not. Not if he could prove that he k
new nothing aboutthe flaw in the title. Or rather, not if Mrs. Carringford couldnot prove that Strout did know his title was fraudulent.Besides, the place might have been sold for taxes some time.That would invalidate the title in this state, unless theoriginal owner, or his heirs, who owed the taxes, hadquitclaimed."
"Dear me, Daddy Day? she cried, "it sounds awfully complicated."
"It is, for little girls. But we will see what we shall see,"which to say the least, was not a very comforting statement.
Janice had found a colored woman who lived at the end of LoveStreet to take the washing home each week and who did it verysatisfactorily. But the woman had small children and so couldnot go out to work.
Besides, such women as they had hired to come in to work by theday had been very unsatisfactory. Nobody seemed to take anyinterest in the work.
"Why," Janice thought, "we haven't even cleaned house properlythis spring. And here it is June--and school almost closing!"
It was a fact that the last few days of the spring term were athand. Janice was so busy that she did not know what to do. Whenshe went to see Mrs. Carringford to ask her the question Daddyhad told her to put, she broke down and cried, telling Amy'smother how bad she felt about the house.
"I got down the curtains and put them to soak; but I can't starchthem and put them on the stretcher and hang them again,"confessed Janice "The house looks so bare! And every inch ofpaint needs scrubbing--even in the rooms that Mrs. Watkins shutup so tight. She did not clean the paint."
"Can't you hire somebody to help you?" asked Mrs. Carringford.
"If you mean can daddy pay for it--he'd be glad to!" criedJanice. "But I just can't find anybody at all."
"I might come over and help you a couple of days, Janice," saidMrs. Carringford, doubtfully.
"Oh! Could you?"
"I can't come very early in the morning; but Amy can get supperfor the children, so that I could stay until after your dinner atnight, Janice."
"Mrs. Carringford! if you'll come and help us," gasped Janice, "Ithink I'll just cry for joy."
"Don't do that, my dear. Of course, this is only a stop-gap.But I will try to do what I can for you toward cleaning house andputting everything to rights again."
And a single day's work made such a difference Daddy came intothe house toward evening without knowing what Janice had arrangedwith Mrs. Carringford, and began to "snuff" at once.
"Why, Janice, how clean everything smells!" he cried when thegirl ran to meet him. "What is happening?"
"We are cleaning house. At least, she is."
"'She'? Who?" he cried.
"You'll never guess."
"I--I--Surely none of the neighbors has taken pity on us and comein to clean?"
"That is exactly what has happened," Janice said. "Mrs.Carringford, Daddy!"
"Mrs Carringford!" he repeated. "Not come to work for us?"
"Oh, dear! I wish she was going to work for us all the time,"confessed the girl with a sigh. "But she is going to put us allstraight once more, at least. The children don't want her to goout to work; but she will do this for us."
"Well, 'small mercies thankfully received; larger ones inproportion,'" murmured daddy. "The whole house to be cleanedonce more? And without my Janice to be dragging herself todeath?"
"Oh, Daddy!"
"Well, I have been worried, dear," he confessed. "I wrote yourAunt Almira, half promising that you should go to see them afterschool closed."
"Oh, Daddy!" shrieked Janice again. "To Poketown?"
"You won't find it so bad. And you need a rest, I believe. Thisold house--"
"Oh! you sha'n't talk so about our beautiful home," gaspedJanice.
"If it is going to be such a burden to you, my dear--"
"It isn't! It isn't " she cried excitedly, and actually stampingher feet. "You don't mean to shut up our home, Daddy? I won'thear to it," and she burst into a flood of tears.
Mrs. Carringford came into the living-room, neat, smiling, andvery, very good to look upon, the man thought. It was a blessingto have a real housekeeper, and homemaker as well, in the house.
"Quite overwrought, Mr. Day," she said putting her arms about thesobbing Janice. "She works too hard and tries to do too much."
"I know it," he said, shaking his head.
"And, besides," said the good woman, "Janice is growing up. Sheis growing too fast, perhaps. And she does need, Mr. Day,something that no father--no matter how willing and thoughtful hemay be--can give her."
"That is--?" asked the man, paling a little.
"The companionship of a woman, Mr. Day," said Mrs. Carringford."She should be more with some woman whom you can trust. Not thewomen you have had here to work for you."
Janice had run away to bathe her eyes and make herself tidy.Broxton Day listened to this woman's advise with a seriouscountenance.
"I was just suggesting her going to spend a part of the summerwith her aunt in Vermont. And she doesn't want to," heexplained.
"That would take her a long way from you and from her home. Sheloves her home, Mr. Day. Janice is a born homemaker, I believe."
"What can I do, then?" exclaimed the man, at his wit's end."Were any people ever situated so unfortunately as Janice and I?"
"There have been thousands like you and your daughter," said Mrs.Carringford. "Janice will be all right after school closes, forshe will not have so much to do. Let her books rest this summer.See that she plays instead of works. If you will, let her be agood deal with other girls."
"I would be willing to have her fill the house with them. Onlythat, too, adds to the work."
"Well, we'll see," sighed Mrs. Carringford, preparing to go backto the kitchen. "She can run over and see my Amy, and Amy cancome here. They are about the same age, and like kittens theyshould play more than work. I will gladly do what I can for you,Mr. Day. You have been very kind to me and mine."
He wanted to tell her that that was not so. That he had reallydone nothing, and the favor was on the other side. But shehurried away to attend to dinner.
And it was a nice dinner that was served at the Day table thatevening. Like the faded-out lady, Mrs.
Carringford sat down to eat with them. But there was a differentair about Mrs. Carringford. She was really a gentlewoman.
Janice recovered her spirits and chattered like a magpie; and Mr.Day himself found that for the first time in many months, he hadreally enjoyed a well-cooked meal and a social meal at his owntable.
Mrs. Carringford came day after day until the entire house wascleaned. Daddy found a man to clean up the yard, cart awayashes, smooth the walks and dig over the flowerbeds. The localflorist supplied growing plants for out of doors, and the Dayplace bloomed again as it was wont to do when Mrs. Day was alive.
Meanwhile Janice and her mates were just as busy as beesconcluding the spring term at school. There were the finalexaminations which were now close at hand. Janice really trembledover these.
"My sakes, Amy! what if I shouldn't pass? I'm awfully shaky onphysiology, especially."
"Goodness, Janice! you'll pass, of course. Anybody as bright andquick as you are!"
"It's awfully nice of you to say that. But my recitations havegone off like anything lately and I really am afraid of theseexams."
Amy tried to comfort her friend, but with little success.
Then there were many outside pleasures, and Janice, in a happiermood this time, remarked that school really did interfere withthe real business of life--such as the picnics that the beautifulspring days made so thoroughly pleasurable.
"Dear me, I'd like to go to a picnic every day," she sighedhappily to Amy one Saturday afternoon, after jolly hours spentwith the boys and girls of her circle of closest friends in thewoods, now white with dogwood.
Some of the girls were going away for a part of the summervacation. But Janice would not admit that she even contemplatedsuch a change.
Stella Latham was one of those who expected to mi
grate. She wasgoing to some relatives who had a summer place on the shore ofone of the Great Lakes, and she talked a good deal about it.
But she did not talk to Janice. All she said in the latter'shearing was something that only puzzled and annoyed Daddy'sdaughter. "I guess if somebody who thinks she is so smart onlyknew what I know about that Swedish girl, Olga, she'd give hervery eyes to have me tell her--so now!"
"I don't even know what she means," confessed Janice, wearily, toAmy.
"She just means to be mean--that's all!" said the practical Amy.
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