The Girls of Hillcrest Farm; Or, The Secret of the Rocks

by Amy Bell Marlowe

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER

  But 'Phemie was immensely curious about this strange little old ladywho was dressed so oddly, yet who apparently came from the wealthiestsection of the city of Easthampton. The young girl could not bring herselfto ask questions of their visitor--let Lyddy do that, if she thoughtit necessary. But, as it chanced, up to a certain point Mrs. Castle wasquite open of speech and free to communicate information about herself.

  As soon as they had got out of town she turned to 'Phemie and said:

  "I expect you think I'm as queer as Dick's hat-band, Euphemia? I am quitesure you never saw a person like me before?"

  "Why--Mrs. Castle--not _just_ like you," admitted the embarrassed 'Phemie.

  "I expect not! Well, I presume there are other old women, who aregrandmothers, and have got all tangled up in these new-fangled notionsthat women have--Laws' sake! I might as well tell you right off that I'verun away!"

  "Run away?" gasped 'Phemie, with a vision of keepers from an asylum comingto Hillcrest to take away their new boarder.

  "That's exactly what I have done! None of my folks know where I havegone. I just wrote a note, telling them not to look for me, and that I wasgoing back to old-fashioned times, if I could find 'em. Then I got thisbag out of the cupboard--I'd kept it all these years--packed it with myvery oldest duds, and--well, here I am!" and the old lady's laugh rangout as shrill and clear as a blackbird's call.

  "I have astonished you; have I?" she pursued. "And I suppose I haveastonished my folks. But they know I'm perfectly capable of taking careof myself. I ought to be. Why, I'm a grandmother three times!"

  "'Three times?'" repeated the amazed 'Phemie.

  "Yes, Miss Euphemia Bray. Three grandchildren--two girls and a boy. Andthey are always telling folks how up-to-date grandma is! I'm sick of beingup-to-date. I'm sick of dressing so that folks behind me on the streetcan't tell whether I'm a grandmother or my own youngest grandchild!

  "We just live in a perfect whirl of excitement. 'Pleasure,' they callit. But it's gotten to be a nuisance. My daughter-in-law has her headfull of society matters and club work. The girls and Tom spend all but thelittle time they are obliged to give to books in the private schools theyattend, in dancing and theatre parties, and the like.

  "And here a week ago I found my son--their father--a man forty-five yearsold, and bald, and getting fat, being taught the tango by a French dancingprofessor in the back drawing-room!" exclaimed Mrs. Castle, in a tone ofdisgust that almost convulsed 'Phemie.

  "That was enough. That was the last straw on the camel's back. I made upmy mind when I read your sister's advertisement that I would like to livesimply and with simple people again. I'd like really to _feel_ like agrandmother, and _dress_ like one, and _be_ one.

  "And if I like it up here at your place I shall stay through the summer.No hunting-lodge in the Adirondacks for me this spring, or Newport, orthe Pier later, or anything of that kind. I'm going to sit on your porchand knit socks. My mother did when _she_ was a grandmother. This is hershawl, and mother and father took this old carpet-bag with them when theywent on their honeymoon.

  "Mother enjoyed her old age. She spent it quietly, and it was _lovely_,"declared Mrs. Castle, with a note in her voice that made 'Phemie soberat once. "I am going to have quiet, and repose, and a simple life, too,before I have to die.

  "It's just killing me keeping up with the times. I don't want to keepup with 'em. I want them to drift by me, and leave me stranded in somepleasant, sunny place, where I only have to look on. And that's what Iam going to get at Hillcrest--just that kind of a place--if you've got itto sell," completed this strange old lady, with emphasis.

  'Phemie Bray scarcely knew what to say. She was not sure that Mrs. Castlewas quite right in her mind; yet what she said, though so surprising,sounded like sense.

  "I'll leave it to Lyddy; she'll know what to say and do," thought theyounger sister, with faith in the ability of Lyddy to handle any emergency.

  And Lyddy handled the old lady as simply as she did everything. Sherefused to see anything particularly odd in Mrs. Castle's dress, manner,or outlook on life.

  The old lady chose one of the larger rooms on the second floor, consideredthe terms moderate, and approved of everything she saw about the house.

  "Make no excuses for giving me a feather bed to sleep on. I believe itwill add half a dozen years to my life," she declared. "Feather beds! My!I never expected to see such a joy again--let alone experience it."

  "Our circle is broadening," said old Mr. Colesworth, at supper thatevening. "Come! I have a three-handed counter for cribbage. Shall wetake Mrs. Castle into our game, Mr. Bray?"

  "If she will so honor us," agreed the girls' father, bowing to the littleold lady.

  "Well! that's hearty of you," said the brisk Mrs. Castle. "I'll postponebeginning knitting my son a pair of socks that he'd never wear, untilto-morrow."

  For she had actually brought along with her knitting needles and a hank ofgrey yarn. It grew into a nightly occurrence, this three-handed cribbagegame. When Mr. Somers had no lessons to "get up," or no examination papersto mark, he spent the evening with Lyddy and 'Phemie. He even helpedwith the dish-wiping and helped to bring in the wood for the morning fires.

  Fire was laid in the three chambers, as well as the dining-room, to lighton cold mornings, or on damp days; Lucas had spent a couple more days inchopping wood. But as the season advanced there was less and less needof these in the sleeping rooms.

  There were, of course, wet and gloomy days, when the old folks were gladto sit over the dining-room fire, the elements forbidding outdoors tothem. But they kept cheerful. And not a little of this cheerfulness wasspread by Lyddy and 'Phemie. The older girl's thoughtfulness for othersmade her much beloved, while 'Phemie's high spirits were contagious.

  On Saturday, when Harris Colesworth arrived from town to remain overSunday, Hillcrest was indeed a lively place. This very self-possessedyoung man took a pleasant interest in everything that went on about thehouse and farm. Lyddy was still inclined to snub him--only, he wouldn'tbe snubbed. He did not force his attentions upon her; but while he was atHillcrest it seemed to Lyddy as though he was right at her elbow all thetime.

  "He pervades the whole place," she complained to 'Phemie. "Why--he's underfoot, like a kitten!"

  "Huh!" exclaimed the younger sister. "He's hanging about you no more thanthe school teacher--and Mr. Somers has the best chance, too."

  "'Phemie!"

  "Oh, don't be a grump! Mr. Colesworth is ever so nice. He's worth any_two_ of your Somerses, too!"

  And at that Lyddy became so indignant that she would not speak to hersister for the rest of the day. But _that_ did not solve the problem.There was Harris Colesworth, always doing something for her, ready to doher bidding at any time, his words cheerful, his looks smiling, and, asLyddy declared in her own mind, "utterly unable to keep his place."

  There never _was_ so bold a young man, she verily believed!