CHAPTER VI
DEBBIE DESERTS
Billy Bradley really tried to be cheerful in the days that followed, buttry as she would she could not altogether keep out the vision of ThreeTowers Hall, the boarding school to which she had wanted to go eversince--well, almost since she had wanted anything.
Laura and Violet would go without her. They would have to go, even inspite of their loyal determination not to. Their parents would havesomething to say about that.
And Chet was in just as bad a fix, for Boxton Military Academy had beenhis dream even as Three Towers Hall had been Billie's. Oh, if only theycould all go what a wonderful time they could have! Oh, well--
And Mr. and Mrs. Bradley, sensing something of all this, were veryunhappy and cast about desperately for some way to give their boy andgirl the advantages that the others would have. But money was very tight.Mr. Bradley had all his cash tied up in several real estate transactions.
So for a little while the Bradleys were not a happy family--althoughthey tried bravely not to show it, even to each other.
Then one morning came a long, businesslike envelope, with a typewrittenaddress, that caused a stir in the family circle.
Mrs. Bradley opened it with a puzzled frown between her brows, thenuttered a startled exclamation.
"What is it, dear?" asked Mr. Bradley, while Billie and Chet crowdedcloser to her chair.
"Aunt Beatrice Powerson is dead," Mrs. Bradley announced with a look moreof shocked surprise than of grief. "She died in Canada quite suddenly,and this is from her attorney asking us," she looked across at herhusband, "to be present at the reading of the will."
"Well, well," said Mr. Bradley slowly, "poor Beatrice Powerson dead atlast. I suppose she got as much out of life as any of us, though, in hereccentric way."
"It was strange," remarked Billie slowly, "that I should have beenspeaking of Aunt Beatrice only the other day. Violet wanted to know ifshe was wealthy."
"Was she, Dad?" asked Chet, with interest.
"I imagine nobody knew," his father answered. "As you know, she wasqueer, and as tight as a clam when it came to talking about her personalaffairs. The only thing we're sure of is that she had plenty of money totravel anywhere she wanted to, and that's saying something these days."
"I say, Billie," cried Chet, his eyes shining with the thought--dear,unselfish Chet, his first hope even then was more for Billie thanhimself, "you are Aunt Beatrice's namesake, you know. Maybe she left yousomething in her will."
"Chet," his mother chided gently, "don't you think it is rather heartlessto be counting on what Aunt Beatrice has left when we have just heard ofher death?"
"I suppose so," said Chet, rather abashed. "But then you know we only sawher about once in every three years, and then she wasn't very friendly."
"Are you really going, Mother, you and Dad?" asked Billie, for it seemedimpossible to her that her father and mother should go off on such a longjourney and leave her and Chet behind. "Are you?" she asked againanxiously.
"Yes, I suppose we must," said Mrs. Bradley, looking across at herhusband, who answered her with a smile.
"I don't see what else we can do," he replied, as he looked at his youngdaughter. "You can keep house while we're gone, Billie, just to see howyou like it."
"Me keep house!" cried Billie, dismayed. "Why, I don't know the firstthing about it!"
"That's the best way to learn," returned her father, while Mrs. Bradleybegan to smile. "Experience is the very best teacher, you know."
"That's all right, but you don't seem to realize that she will belearning at my expense," groaned Chet, adding as a horrible thoughtstruck him: "Billie won't have to cook anything, will she?"
"Of course not," laughed Mrs. Bradley, and Chet sighed with relief."Debbie will be here as usual to do the cooking. And, of course," sheadded to Billie, putting an arm about her and drawing her close, "Debbiewill help you with anything you want to know. We probably won't be gonemore than a week, anyway."
So it was arranged, and a couple of days later, with a wildly beatingheart and a rueful smile upon her lips, Billie stood with Chet upon thestation platform and waved good-bye to her father and mother.
When the train had rounded the curve and disappeared with one lastchallenging blast of the whistle, Billie and Chet turned to each other,feeling as lost and forlorn as the babes in the wood.
"Now, what do we do next?" breathed Billie, breaking the silence at last."I feel helpless, Chet."
"Well, I don't think you have anything on me," admitted Chet slangily. "Isuppose the most sensible thing to do would be to go home and see howDebbie is getting on with the lunch."
"Goodness, that's the first time I ever had to be reminded that I washungry," said Billie, and with that they laughed and felt more natural.
The rest of that day went off beautifully, and Billie was beginning tofeel very confident when suddenly Debbie threw a suggestion bomb-like inthe midst of her contentment.
"I hate to bother you, miss," said the black cook, approaching hermistress the next morning--Billie, by the way, was busily dusting theliving-room with a very becoming dust cap perched on top of her prettyhair, "but this is mah day out."
"Your--day--out!" gasped Billie, sitting down hard on the chair she hadbeen dusting and regarding Debbie's black face with dismay. "You nevercan mean that you are going to desert me, Debbie? Leave me to do all thecooking and--and--everything--" The awful vision was too much for herand her voice died down to a whisper.
"I'm tur'ble sorry, Miss Billie," said Debbie, gently but very, veryfirmly, "but mah young man and me we has a mos' awful impo'tantin-gagement fo' dis aft'noon, an' I couldn't break it--no'm, much as Iwant to." She added that last in the evident hope of appeasing her youngmistress, who was still regarding her with horrified eyes.
"But, Debbie," gasped Billie when she could find her voice, "I don't knowa thing in the world about cooking. Have you--have you--orderedanything?"
"Yas, indeed," Debbie assured her, going on to explain that the meal wasvirtually prepared anyway. "I done made a salad for you and Chet, an' thebutter beans am in de pan. Dere is some stew too, which all you has to dois to warm up, Miss Billie. An' I done make a big peach pie, an' dere'ssome whipped cream in de 'frig'rater. So I reckons you-all won't starveto death," she added, with a broad smile that showed all her strong whiteteeth back to the last molar.
As for Billie, she could have hugged the mountainous black figure in therelief she felt. Why, with the dinner all prepared like this it would bejust a lark to put it on the table--for just her and Chet alone.
"Debbie, you're a darling and I love you!" she cried, joyfully. "But youknow you really shouldn't have scared me so--it wasn't fair."
For answer Debbie grinned again and began to get her bulky figure upthe stairs, preparatory to dressing for the "in-gagement" with her"young man."
Billie watched her go, and then with a little chuckle resumed herdusting.
"I'd like to see Debbie's young man," she mused, a smile twisting thecorners of her mouth. "He ought to be a giant. Anyway, I feel sorry forhim if he isn't. Dear funny old Debbie--won't Chet and I have a picnicto-night?"
And as she had predicted, they did have the time of their lives. Chetrefused to sit in the dining-room in lonely state, and in masterlyfashion invaded the kitchen.
"Say, that smells good, Billie, old girl," and he sniffed hungrily at thestew. "Give me an apron and I'll help."
"Oh, look who wants to help," cried Billie, finding an apron neverthelessand tying it around his waist so that he looked like a butcher'sassistant. "You will probably only get under my feet and bother me todeath, but I suppose I'll have to humor you. There, if you must dosomething, set the table."
Now Chet did not want to set the table--it took him too far from theappetizing aromas in the kitchen. However, he obeyed grumblingly and wasfinally rewarded by being given a steaming dish of stew to carry in.
"Chet," screamed Billie, following him in and checking him just
as hewas in the act of putting the hot dish on the tablecloth, "put aprotector under it. Don't you know," as Chet started and lookedreproachfully at her, "that you are apt to ruin the table? And it'salmost a brand new one at that."
"Well, you needn't scare a fellow to death," grumbled Chet. "I thoughtI'd stepped on the cat." But he obeyed instructions.
"My! but doesn't everything look good?" cried Billie, sniffing hungrily."Hurry up, Chet, take off your apron and dish up the stew while I pourthe coffee. What do you know about that? _I_ made the coffee. And doesn'tit smell good?"
It was the jolliest of meals and finished up in royal fashion with thepeach pie and whipped cream.
In a very gale of merriment Chet and Billie cleared away the dinnerdishes, and then, being tired by the unusual exertion, decided to goearly to bed.
For the first part of the night Billie slept soundly, but just as theclock downstairs was striking two, she awakened suddenly and lay still inbed listening. She was frightened, though she could not have told why.
Rigidly she lay there hardly daring to breathe.
Billie Bradley and Her Inheritance; Or, The Queer Homestead at Cherry Corners Page 6