CHAPTER XIV
FROM ME TO YOU WITH LOVE
It was certainly a gay one--that holiday week. Beginning with the JamesBlaisdells' housewarming it was one continuous round of dances,dinners, sleigh-rides and skating parties for Hillerton's young peopleparticularly for the Blaisdells, the Pennocks, and the Gaylords.
Mr. Smith, at Miss Maggie's, saw comparatively little of it all, thoughhe had almost daily reports from Benny, Mellicent, or Miss Flora, whocame often to Miss Maggie's for a little chat. It was from Miss Florathat he learned the outcome of Mellicent's present to her mother. Theweek was past, and Miss Flora had come down to Miss Maggie's for alittle visit.
Mr. Smith still worked at the table in the corner of the living-room,though the Duff-Blaisdell records were all long ago copied. He was atwork now sorting and tabulating other Blaisdell records. Mr. Smithseemed to find no end to the work that had to be done on his Blaisdellbook.
As Miss Flora entered the room she greeted Mr. Smith cordially, anddropped into a chair.
"Well, they've gone at last," she panted, handing her furs to MissMaggie; "so I thought I'd come down and talk things over. No, don't go,Mr. Smith," she begged, as he made a move toward departure. "I hain'tcome; to say nothin' private; besides, you're one of the family,anyhow. Keep right on with your work; please."
Thus entreated, Mr. Smith went back to his table, and Miss Florasettled herself more comfortably in Miss Maggie's easiest chair.
"So they're all gone," said Miss Maggie cheerily.
"Yes; an' it's time they did, to my way of thinkin'. Mercy me, what aweek it has been! They hain't been still a minute, not one of 'em,except for a few hours' sleep--toward mornin'."
"But what a good time they've had!" exulted Miss Maggie.
"Yes. And didn't it do your soul good to see Mellicent? But Jane--Janenearly had a fit. She told Mellicent that all this gayety was nothingbut froth and flimsiness and vexation of spirit. That she knew itbecause she'd been all through it when she was young, and she knew thevanity of it. And Mellicent--what do you suppose that child said?"
"I can't imagine," smiled Miss Maggie.
"She said SHE wanted to see the vanity of it, too. Pretty cute of her,too, wasn't it? Still it's just as well she's gone back to school, Ithink myself. She's been repressed and held back so long, that when shedid let loose, it was just like cutting the puckering string of abunched-up ruffle--she flew in all directions, and there was no holdingher back anywhere; and I suppose she has been a bit foolish andextravagant in the things she's asked for. Poor dear, though, she didget one setback."
"What do you mean?" "Did she tell you about the present for her mother?"
"That she was going to get it--yes."
Across the room Mr. Smith looked up suddenly.
"Well, she got it." Miss Flora's thin lips snapped grimly over theterse words. "But she had to take it back."
"Take it back!" cried Miss Maggie.
"Yes. And 'twas a beauty--one of them light purple stones with twopearls. Mellicent showed it to me--on the way home from the store, youknow. And she was so pleased over it! 'Oh, I don't mind the saving allthose years now,' she cried, 'when I see what a beautiful thing they'velet me get for mother' And she went off so happy she just couldn't keepher feet from dancing."
'"I can imagine it," nodded Miss Maggie.
"Well, in an hour she was back. But what a difference! All the lightand happiness and springiness were gone. She was almost crying. Shestill carried the little box in her hand. 'I'm takin' it back,' shechoked. 'Mother doesn't like it.' 'Don't like that beautiful pin!' saysI. 'What does she want?'
"'Oh, yes, she liked the pin,' said Mellicent, all teary; 'she thinksit's beautiful. But she doesn't want anything. She says she never heardof such foolish goings-on--paying all that money for a silly, uselesspin. I--I told her 'twas a PRESENT from me, but she made me take itback. I'm on my way now back to the store. I'm to get the money, if Ican. If I can't, I'm to get a credit slip. Mother says we can take itup in forks and spoons and things we need. I--I told her 'twas apresent, but--' She couldn't say another word, poor child. She justturned and almost ran from the room. That was last night. She went awaythis morning, I suppose. I didn't see her again, so I don't know howshe did come out with the store-man."
"Too bad--too bad!" sympathized Miss Maggie. (Over at the table Mr.Smith had fallen to writing furiously, with vicious little jabs of hispencil.) "But Jane never did believe in present-giving. They never gavepresents to each other even at Christmas. She always called it afoolish, wasteful practice, and Mellicent was always SO unhappyChristmas morning!"
"I know it. And that's just what the trouble is. Don't you see? Janenever let 'em take even comfort, and now that they CAN take somecomfort, Jane's got so out of the habit, she don't know how to begin."
"Careful, careful, Flora!" laughed Miss Maggie. "I don't think YOU cansay much on that score."
"Why, Maggie Duff, I'M taking comfort," bridled Miss Flora. "Didn't Ihave chicken last week and turkey three weeks ago? And do I ever skimpthe butter or hunt for cake-rules with one egg now? And ain't I goingto Niagara and have a phonograph and move into a fine place just assoon as my mourning is up? You wait and see!"
"All right, I'll wait," laughed Miss Maggie. Then, a bit anxiously, sheasked: "Did Fred go to-day?"
"Yes, looking fine as a fiddle, too. I was sweeping off the steps whenhe went by the house. He stopped and spoke. Said he was going in nowfor real work--that he'd played long enough. He said he wouldn't begood for a row of pins if he had many such weeks as this had been."
"I'm glad he realized it," observed Miss Maggie grimly. "I suppose theGaylord young people went, too."
"Hibbard did, but Pearl doesn't go till next week. She isn't in thesame school with Bess, you know. It's even grander than Bess's theysay. Hattie wants to get Bess into it next year. Oh, I forgot; we'vegot to call her 'Elizabeth' now. Did you know that?"
Miss Maggie shook her head.
"Well, we have. Hattie says nicknames are all out now, and that'Elizabeth' is very stylish and good form and the only proper thing tocall her. She says we must call her 'Harriet,' too. I forgot that."
"And Benny 'Benjamin'?" smiled Miss Maggie.
"Yes. And Jim 'James.' But I'm afraid I shall forget--sometimes."
"I'm afraid--a good many of us will," laughed Miss Maggie.
"It all came from them Gaylords, I believe," sniffed Flora. "I don'tthink much of 'em; but Hattie seems to. I notice she don't put nothin'discouragin' in the way of young Gaylord and Bess. But he pays 'most asmuch attention to Mellicent, so far as I can see, whenever Carl Pennockwill give him a chance. Did you ever see the beat of that boy? It's themoney, of course. I hope Mellicent'll give him a good lesson, beforeshe gets through with it. He deserves it," she ejaculated, as shepicked up her fur neck-piece, and fastened it with a jerk.
In the doorway she paused and glanced cautiously toward Mr. Smith. Mr.Smith, perceiving the glance, tried very hard to absorb himself in therows of names dates before him; but he could not help hearing MissFlora's next words.
"Maggie, hain't you changed your mind a mite yet? WON'T you let me giveyou some of my money? I'd so LOVE to, dear!"
But Miss Maggie, with a violent shake of her head, almost pushed MissFlora into the hall and shut the door firmly.
Mr. Smith, left alone at his table, wrote again furiously, and withvicious little jabs of his pencil.
. . . . . . .
One by one the winter days passed. At the Duffs' Mr. Smith was findinga most congenial home. He liked Miss Maggie better than ever, on closeracquaintance. The Martin girls fitted pleasantly into the household,and plainly did much to help the mistress of the house. Father Duff wasstill as irritable as ever, but he was not so much in evidence, for hisincreasing lameness was confining him almost entirely to his own room.This meant added care for Miss Maggie, but, with the help of theMartins, she still had some rest and leisure, som
e time to devote tothe walks and talks with Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith said it was absolutelyimperative, for the sake of her health, that she should have somerecreation, and that it was an act of charity, anyway, that she shouldlighten his loneliness by letting him walk and talk with her.
Mr. Smith could not help wondering a good deal these days about MissMaggie's financial resources. He knew from various indications thatthey must be slender. Yet he never heard her plead poverty or preacheconomy. In spite of the absence of protecting rugs and tidies,however, and in spite of the fact that she plainly conducted her lifeand household along the lines of the greatest possible comfort, he sawmany evidences that she counted the pennies--and that she made everypenny count.
He knew, for a fact, that she had refused to accept any of theBlaisdells' legacy. Jane, to be sure, had not offered any money yet(though she had offered the parlor carpet, which had been promptlyrefused), but Frank and James and Flora had offered money, and hadurged her to take it. Miss Maggie, however would have none of it.
Mr. Smith suspected that Miss Maggie was proud, and that she regardedsuch a gift as savoring too much of charity. Mr. Smith wished HE couldsay something to Miss Maggie. Mr. Smith was, indeed, not a littledisturbed over the matter. He did try once to say something; but MissMaggie tossed it off with a merry: "Take their money? Never! I shouldfeel as if I were eating up some of Jane's interest, or one of Hattie'sgold chairs!" After that she would not let him get near the subject.There seemed then really nothing that he could do. It was about thistime, however, that Mr. Smith began to demand certain extraluxuries--honey, olives, sardines, candied fruits, and importedjellies. They were always luxuries that must be bought, not prepared inthe home; and he promptly increased the price of his board--but to asum far beyond the extra cost of the delicacies he ordered. When MissMaggie remonstrated at the size of the increase, he pooh-poohed herobjections, and declared that even that did not pay for having such anuisance of a boarder around, with all his fussy notions. He insisted,moreover, that the family should all partake freely of the variousdelicacies, declaring that it seemed to take away the sting of hisfussiness if they ate as he ate, and so did not make him appearsingular in his tastes. Of the Blaisdells Mr. Smith saw a good dealthat winter. They often came to Miss Maggie's, and occasionally hecalled at their homes. Mr. Smith was on excellent terms with them all.They seemed to regard him, indeed, as quite one of the family, and theyasked his advice, and discussed their affairs before him with as muchfreedom as if he were, in truth, a member of the family.
He knew that Mrs. Hattie Blaisdell was having a very gay winter, andthat she had been invited twice to the Gaylords'. He knew that JamesBlaisdell was happy in long evenings with his books before the fire.From Fred's mother he learned that Fred had made the most exclusiveclub in college, and from Fred's father he learned that the boy wasalready leading his class in his studies. He heard of Bessie's visitsto the homes of wealthy New Yorkers, and of the trials Benny's teacherswere having with Benny.
He knew something of Miss Flora's placid life in her "house ofmourning" (as Bessie had dubbed the little cottage), and he heard ofthe "perfectly lovely times" Mellicent was having at her finishingschool. He dropped in occasionally to talk over the price of beans andpotatoes with Mr. Frank Blaisdell in his bustling grocery store, and heoften saw Mrs. Jane at Miss Maggie's. It was at Miss Maggie's, indeed,one day, that he heard Mrs. Jane say, as she sank wearily into achair:--
"Well, I declare! Sometimes I think I'll never give anybody a thingagain!"
Mr. Smith, at his table, was conscious of a sudden lively interest. Sooften, in his earlier acquaintance with Mrs. Jane, while he boardedthere, had he heard her say to mission-workers, church-solicitors, anddoorway beggars, alike, something similar to this; "No, I can give younothing. I have nothing to give. I'd love to, if I could--really Iwould. It makes me quite unhappy to hear of all this need andsuffering. I'd so love to do something! And if I were rich I would; butas it is, I can only give you my sympathy and my prayers."
Mr. Smith was thinking of this now. He had wondered several times,since the money came, as to Mrs. Jane's giving. Hence his interest nowin what she was about to say.
"Why, Jane, what's the matter?" Miss Maggie was querying.
"Everything's the matter," snapped Jane. "And positively a moreungrateful set of people all around I never saw. To begin with, takethe church. You know I've never been able to do anything. We couldn'tafford it. And now I was so happy that I COULD do something, and I toldthem so; and they seemed real pleased at first. I gave two dollarsapiece to the Ladies' Aid, the Home Missionary Society, and the ForeignMissionary Society--and, do you know? they hardly even thanked me! Theyacted for all the world as if they expected more--the grasping things!And, listen! On the way home, just as I passed the Gale girls' I heardSue say: 'What's two dollars to her? She'll never miss it.' They meantme, of course. So you see it wasn't appreciated. Now, was it?"
"Perhaps not."
"What's the good of giving, if you aren't going to get any credit, orthanks, just because you're rich, I should like to know? And theyaren't the only ones. Nothing has been appreciated," went on Mrs. Janediscontentedly. "Look at Cousin Mary Davis--YOU know how poor they'vealways been, and how hard it's been for them to get along. HerCarrie--Mellicent's age, you know--has had to go to work in Hooper'sstore. Well, I sent Mellicent's old white lace party dress to Mary.'Twas some soiled, of course, and a little torn; but I thought shecould clean it and make it over beautifully for Carrie. But, what doyou think?--back it came the next day with a note from Mary saying verycrisply that Carrie had no place to wear white lace dresses, and theyhad no time to make it over if she did. No place to wear it, indeed!Didn't I invite her to my housewarming? And didn't Hattie, too? But howare you going to help a person like that?"
"But, Jane, there must be ways--some ways." Miss Maggie's forehead waswrinkled into a troubled frown. "They need help, I know. Mr. Davis hasbeen sick a long time, you remember."
"Yes, I know he has; and that's all the more reason, to my way ofthinking, why they should be grateful for anything--ANYTHING! Thetrouble is, she wants to be helped in ways of her own choosing. Theywanted Frank to take Sam, the boy,--he's eighteen now--into the store,and they wanted me to get embroidery for Nellie to do at home--she'slame, you know, but she does do beautiful work. But I couldn't doeither. Frank hates relatives in the store; he says they cause allsorts of trouble with the other help; and I certainly wasn't going toask him to take any relatives of MINE. As for Nellie--I DID ask Hattieif she couldn't give her some napkins to do, or something, and she gaveme a dozen for her--she said Nellie'd probably do them as cheap asanybody, and maybe cheaper. But she told me not to go to the Gaylordsor the Pennocks, or any of that crowd, for she wouldn't have them knowfor the world that we had a relative right here in town that had totake in sewing. I told her they weren't her relations nor theBlaisdells'; they were mine, and they were just as good as her folksany day, and that it was no disgrace to be poor. But, dear me! You knowHattie. What could I do? Besides, she got mad then, and took back thedozen napkins she'd given me. So I didn't have anything for poorNellie. Wasn't it a shame?"
"I think it was." Miss Maggie's lips shut in a thin straight line.
"Well, what could I do?" bridled Jane defiantly. "Besides, if I'd takenthem to her, they wouldn't have appreciated it, I know. They neverappreciate anything. Why, last November, when the money came, I sentthem nearly all of Mellicent's and my old summer things--and if littleTottie didn't go and say afterwards that her mamma did wish Cousin Janewouldn't send muslins in December when they hadn't room enough to storea safety pin. Oh, of course, Mary didn't say that to ME, but she musthave said it somewhere, else Tottie wouldn't have got hold of it.'Children and fools,' you know," she finished meaningly, as she rose togo.
Mr. Smith noticed that Miss Maggie seemed troubled that evening, and heknew that she started off early the next morning and was gone nearlyall day, coming home only for a hurried luncheon. It being Saturday,the
Martin girls were both there to care for Father Duff and the house.Not until some days later did Mr. Smith suspect that he had learned thereason for all this. Then a thin-faced young girl with tired eyes cameto tea one evening and was introduced to him as Miss Carrie Davis.Later, when Miss Maggie had gone upstairs to put Father Duff to bed,Mr. Smith heard Carrie Davis telling Annabelle Martin all about howkind Miss Maggie had been to Nellie, finding her all that embroidery todo for that rich Mrs. Gaylord, and how wonderful it was that she hadbeen able to get such a splendid job for Sam right in Hooper's storewhere she was.
Mr. Smith thought he understood then Miss Maggie's long absence onSaturday.
Mr. Smith was often running across little kindnesses that Miss Maggiehad done. He began to think that Miss Maggie must be a very charitableperson--until he ran across several cases that she had not helped. Thenhe did not know exactly what to think.
His first experience of this kind was when he met an unmistakably"down-and-out" on the street one day, begging clothing, food, anything,and telling a sorry tale of his unjust discharge from a local factory.Mr. Smith gave the man a dollar, and sent him to Miss Maggie. Hehappened to know that Father Duff had discarded an old suit thatmorning--and Father Duff and the beggar might have been taken for twinsas to size. On the way home a little later he met the beggar returning,just as forlorn, and even more hungry-looking.
"Well, my good fellow, couldn't she fix you up?" questioned Mr. Smithin some surprise.
"Fix me up!" glowered the man disdainfully. "Not much she did! Shedidn't fix me up ter nothin'--but chin music!"
And Mr. Smith had thought Miss Maggie was so charitable!
A few days later he heard an eager-eyed young woman begging Miss Maggiefor a contribution to the Pension Fund Fair in behalf of the underpaidshopgirls in Daly's. Daly's was a Hillerton department Store, notoriousfor its unfair treatment of its employees.
Miss Maggie seemed interested, and asked many questions. The eager-eyedyoung woman became even more eager-eyed, and told Miss Maggie all aboutthe long hours, the nerve-wearing labor, the low wages--wages uponwhich it was impossible for any girl to live decently--wages whosemeagerness sent many a girl to her ruin.
Miss Maggie listened attentively, and said, "Yes, yes, I see," severaltimes. But in the end the eager-eyed young woman went away empty-handedand sad-eyed. And Mr. Smith frowned again.
He had thought Miss Maggie was so kind-hearted! She gave to somefairs--why not to this one? As soon as possible Mr. Smith hunted up theeager-eyed young woman and gave her ten dollars. He would have givenher more, but he had learned from unpleasant experience that largegifts from unpretentious Mr. John Smith brought comments and curiositynot always agreeable.
It was not until many weeks later that Mr. Smith chanced to hear of thecomplete change of policy of Daly's department store. Hours wereshortened, labor lightened, and wages raised. Incidentally he learnedthat it had all started from a crusade of women's clubs and churchcommittees who had "got after old Daly" and threatened all sorts ofpublicity and unpleasantness if the wrongs were not righted at once. Helearned also that the leader in the forefront of this movement hadbeen--Maggie Duff.
As it chanced, it was on that same day that a strange man accosted himon the street.
"Say, she was all right, she was, old man. I been hopin' I'd see yesome day ter tell ye."
"To tell me?" echoed Mr. Smith stupidly.
The man grinned.
"Ye don't know me, do ye? Well, I do look diff'rent, I'll own. Ye giveme a dollar once, an' sent me to a lady down the street thar. Now do yeremember?"
"Oh! OH! Are YOU that man?"
"Sure I am! Well, she was all right. 'Member? I thought 'twas onlychin-music she was givin' me. But let me tell ye. She hunted up thewife an' kids, an' what's more, she went an' faced my boss, an' she gotme my job back, too. What do ye think of that, now?"
"Why, I'm--I'm glad, of course!" Mr. Smith spoke as one in deep thought.
And all the way home Mr. Smith walked--as one in deep thought.
Oh, Money! Money! A Novel Page 14