by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XXIII
QUIET LIFE
When Elinor left York for the mountains, she took the little trunk withher, after carefully removing the Belhaven label. The label itself shecarried in her card-case. "I shall need it," she said, "to illustrate mytale of a trunk when I tell it. Every one who has heard it thus farthinks it the most amusing story that ever was--and if it hadn'thappened no one could believe it. This label is a proof of its truth."
Martine missed Elinor more than she admitted even to her mother. It waspart of her summer plan to seem perfectly contented with everything.Mrs. Stratford noted with some concern that Martine was growing paler,if not a little thinner. Could it be that she was less happy than sheprofessed to be, less contented?
Whatever she did, she did with her utmost energy, and in summer it waspossible for a young girl to have too much of housework, gardening andstudy. It had become almost a passion with her to make up one or twodeficiencies before her return to school. Strangely enough, it wasHerbert now, on whom she began to depend for help in carrying on herwork, and this is how it came about.
Herbert, after the so-called rescue on the Piscataqua, made light of theaffair, in spite of Martine's reiteration that except for him she knewthat she and Clare--not to mention Angelina--must have capsized.
"We might not have met a watery grave--but we certainly should havereached shore very wet."
"Well, perhaps," responded Herbert, "but even if it meant something toyou to be saved from your 'peril' as you call it, you must admit thatAtherton and I ran no risk."
"That doesn't alter the fact that you were thoughtful as well as brave,and really, Herbert, if only you wouldn't pretend to be so lazy,you'd--"
Martine did not finish the sentence, for Herbert immediately tried toprove that he was not lazy.
"Of course I won't fall in with all of Carlotta's plans; if I did she'dkeep me busy from morning to night. But I got into college withoutconditions--and that reminds me--Miss Martine Stratford--I heard youcomplaining the other day about your Cicero, and so, if you are not toolazy, I will come to you two or three times a week to read Latin withyou. We'll make the orations fly like hot-cakes, and Carlotta will bemore infuriated than ever that I have something to do that will keep mefrom trotting around after her."
"If that's your motive, I refuse to be helped."
"You ought to be very grateful, for in general I don't approve of agirl's going to college, and I understand it's because you have collegein view that you wish to skip on with your Latin. But it's only becauseI think college won't spoil you that I consent to give you the benefitof my knowledge," and Herbert assumed a pompous air that greatly amusedMartine. Thus it happened that a day or two after Elinor left York,Herbert entered on his self-appointed office of tutor. Mrs. Stratfordhad made no objection when Martine told her of Herbert's plan. She hadknown Herbert for a long time, and she understood some of thedifficulties of his home surroundings. Carlotta and he were so unlike intemperament, that they were constantly at swords' points, and Mrs.Brownville was so absorbed in her own narrow interests that she hadnever found time to study her children.
Mrs. Stratford realized that Martine could do more for Herbert than hefor her, as he never resented the sisterly advice that she bestowed onhim.
Carlotta was the only one who seemed to object to Herbert's newoccupation. She teased him unmercifully, and showed an inclination tosnub Martine. The two girls, fortunately, did not meet often, forMartine had little part in the gayeties of August, while Carlotta was aleader of the younger set.
Carlotta, had she been so disposed, might have done much for Martine. Onthe other hand, Martine, with a little effort, could have shared in thepleasures of the young people of her own age. At last her motherremonstrated with her for holding herself aloof from those who werepleasantly disposed to her.
But Martine was firm.
"No, mother, I can't serve two masters. The summer has been flying away,and I haven't accomplished half that I had hoped to. I shan't dare tolook Priscilla in the face if I haven't made up all that Latin. Then Ishouldn't have a really good time if I 'mingled' more, as Angelinasuggests. People here are cliquey, and Carlotta and Peggy are the onlygirls in the crowd that I've ever known before. Peggy is a regularwill-o'-the-wisp, and Carlotta and I never could be intimate."
"But still--" began Mrs. Stratford.
"But still," echoed Martine, "you seem to forget, mother dear, that wecame here to save money--and everything costs so much--and I don't wantto spend my poor little allowance on dress and excursions, and sometimesI feel pretty blue, and until we know from Lucian how father really is,I couldn't plunge into things. There wouldn't be any half way with me;if I should begin to 'go,' I would just have to go all the time."
Here Martine stopped for sheer want of breath. But her mother, watchingher closely, wondered if she really understood herself. Yet Martine wassincere. It was only when she heard of some particularly pleasant thingthat she felt left out. A moonlight sail, an all-day picnic up theriver, an excursion to Agamenticus, all seemed to her as she heard ofthem more delightful affairs than they actually were to those who tookpart in them.
Before Herbert and Clare, Martine maintained her Spartan indifference,even when they talked of their own experiences in a well-meant effort tomake her express a desire to go with them on their next expedition.
But nothing could weaken Martine's determination to lead a quiet life.
"It isn't as if I never had had any fun, or never should have any more,"she wrote to Priscilla, "but even as it is I believe I have been runningabout too much. For the next few weeks I mean to be quiet as a dormouse,and two pages of Latin a day will keep me pretty busy. You see, Prissie,if papa really has lost all his money, I shall want to earn my living atonce. I never could be dependent on my relations, and Lucian will haveall he can do for the next few years. Oh, how different this summer isfrom last, when I almost felt as if I owned the world, though I hope Ididn't show it. Of course we are very comfortable here. The house issmall, but we brought enough of our own things to make it homelike, andAngelina does pretty well, though I have to help out with thingssometimes. We have radishes and peas and a few tomato plants in thekitchen garden, but the rest of the place is all in grass, except theflower garden, and that would do your heart good. There are all kinds ofold-fashioned things that you would love. They have grown up in thewildest way, and I am kept very busy weeding the flowers as well as thevegetables. Now, Prissie, before we leave York you must make us a visit.Mother and I both want you, and York will suit you to a T. The summerpeople make it livelier than Plymouth, but there are enough queer oldhouses to make you feel quite at home. You'd enjoy the graveyardopposite the church. It is shaded with ancient trees, and every onebrowses around there at least once. The funniest stone that I saw therewas Father Moody's; he was the father of Handkerchief Moody. Theinscription is just what you might expect from a thrifty New Englander.I wonder more haven't tried the same thing. Instead of having a longinscription put on he just gave the chapter and verse, 2 Corinthians,III, 1-6, so that any one interested could read. I am sorry to say Ihaven't yet had time. There's another thing that might amuse you. Thereare a lot of little cottages down by the Long Beach beyond the harbor.They look as if they were made of cardboard, painted in bright colors,and have fancy names like 'Sea-crest' and 'Harbor View.' Well, the otherday on our way to Cape Neddock, I noticed one called Gorgeana, and Ithought the owners had given it this name because they meant to enjoythemselves by eating all they could, or gorging.
"I was awfully snubbed by Herbert when I asked him if it wasn't a shamefor people to advertise their greediness. He laughed well at me when hereminded me that the name was in honor of Gorges, the founder of York, afact which I really ought to have remembered, for of course I knew it.
"You need not be jealous of Clare, as you suggest. It is certainlypleasant to have a congenial girl so near. But she never could take yourplace--never in the world.
"She is something lik
e you, however, quiet and dignified, and fond ofhistory. Mrs. Ethridge is great fun, and would be good company formother, except that she plays bridge from morning till night.
"You haven't told me what you think of my rescue, and of Balfour and theburglar. I wrote you a few days ago.
"I had a letter from Brenda last week. Isn't it wonderful that sheshould find time to think of me when she is so far away. She isdelighted because all the family are with her now, and they are to be inSan Rafael the rest of the summer.
"She is not sure whether she will be in Boston next winter. How I wishwe might have her apartment again. But we can't tell what we shall dountil father and Lucian return. She says she would like to be with meone winter, to be sure that I really deserve to be called her ward."
Then, with messages to Mrs. Danforth and the children, Martine concludedher letter.
It brought a quick reply, in which Priscilla laughed at Martine for hertwo rescues--if one can be said to laugh in a letter.
"For an independent person it seems to me that you succeed in gettingrescued from extreme danger pretty often. Balfour, in the fog lastsummer, had the easier time I should say, and I only hope that he andHerbert Brownville may not come to blows in trying to decide which isthe greater hero.
"If I am called on to help to decide, I should have to decide againstBalfour, for you could not be half as much lost on a horse as in aboat."
Although Priscilla was correct in her diagnosis of the different kindsof dangers, Balfour and Herbert gave no signs of coming to blows on thesubject of their prowess. On the contrary, they showed an inclination tobe very good friends. As Balfour's time was so fully occupied with hisduties, Herbert acquired the habit of taking long rides on the cars.Then at the end of the route, or when waiting at turn-outs, he andBalfour had chances for the snatches of conversation in which boys findmore pleasure than girls.
Carlotta was as little pleased with Herbert's intimacy with Balfour, aswith his interest in Martine's Latin. It might not be fair to say thatshe wished to keep her brother entirely under her thumb, and yet itannoyed her that he was so much less amenable to her than formerly. Sheliked to feel that he was ready to come and go as she wished. Sheespecially needed him to help entertain her visitors, of whom sheusually had two or three staying in the house.
Now it happened one evening that Martine reading a Boston newspaper cameupon something that excited her mightily.
"O, mamma," she exclaimed, "Only think! Mrs. Dundonald is cominghere--just listen; Mrs. Dundonald, the well-known artist, passed throughBoston to-day on her way to York Harbor where she is to spend a few dayswith friends."
"Well, my dear, what of it?" responded Mrs. Stratford.
"Oh, you know how I admire Mrs. Dundonald's work. She does exactly thekind of thing I should like to do, and they say she is perfectlycharming. To think she is coming here! Oh, I do hope we shall meet her!"
Then Martine paused suddenly, remembering that for the present she andher mother were not likely to meet any distinguished stranger visitingYork. From Clare she learned the next day that Mrs. Dundonald wasstaying with Miss Stark, an elderly lady whose house was next that ofthe Brownvilles'. Clare offered to take Martine to call on Miss Starkand Mrs. Dundonald, but Martine hesitated because she had heard thatMiss Stark was a rigid upholder of formal etiquette.
"I have had one or two little snubs," she said, "and I should hate to betreated with scorn because I had made the first call on an older woman."
"There is no danger of that," replied Clare, "but still, there willprobably be some other way, for you ought to have a chance to meet Mrs.Dundonald."
Just at this time Herbert happened to be away on a short yachting trip,so that Martine could not tell him of her desire. The Brownvilles werecousins as well as neighbors of Miss Stark's, and had Herbert been athome he could easily have arranged a meeting between Martine and theartist.
"Martine," said Clare a day after their conversation about Miss Starkand her guest, "I saw Carlotta at the beach this morning and I told herhow anxious you were to meet Mrs. Dundonald. She knows her very well,and--"
"She didn't promise to introduce me immediately?"
Martine's tone was sarcastic. She knew very well that Carlotta wouldhardly exert herself to do her a favor. The girls were seated on Mrs.Ethridge's piazza at this moment, and before Clare could reply toMartine, the maid handed her a note that had come by special messenger.Martine watched her friend as she read, and noticed that she made nocomment as she slipped the note back in its envelope. Then for a fewmoments neither girl spoke. Martine had recognized the man who had giventhe note to the maid. He was one of the Brownvilles' coachmen.
"Martine," said Clare, at length, "Carlotta is giving a large stand-upluncheon for Mrs. Dundonald the day after to-morrow. It is just to letthe girls here at York have a chance to meet her. Of course you willfind your invitation when you go home."
"Perhaps," replied Martine, and this word found an echo in Clare'sheart.
When Martine returned home she found no invitation from Carlotta, nordid one come before the luncheon. Strange as it may seem, in view ofMartine's repeated declaration that she hated formal festivities insummer, she felt aggrieved that Carlotta had left her out.
"Perhaps Carlotta has heard you express yourself. You know my dear, youhave been a little scornful about the doings of the younger set."
"Oh, no, mamma, I have seldom taken the trouble to express my opinionsto Carlotta. Besides, she knows I am anxious to meet Mrs. Dundonald.Unluckily Clare has told her this, so my snubbing is all the harder tobear."
Nor was Martine's disappointment lessened by the fact that Clare gave upthe luncheon. "You might as well have gone," she said. "It is all theworse for me to know that I have kept you out of something you wouldhave enjoyed."
"But I have met so many artists," replied Clare, smiling, "that one moreor less makes little difference to me. You know I do not care forcrowds, and although Carlotta speaks of this luncheon as 'small,' I knowthere will be a crush. I'd much rather go off somewhere with you for theday. Cousin Mary has been urging me to come over to Portsmouth for theday. She would love to see you too. Let us go to-morrow; it will be muchmore fun than Carlotta's luncheon."
But when to-morrow came, a strange thing happened. By some means knownonly to her, Angelina had heard that a man had been arrested inPortsmouth for breaking and entering a little shop.
"I want to go over and identify him; I know he's our burglar, and that,of course, makes him Miguel Silva, who took Miss Brenda's money."
"But you would better wait until you are sent for. You may be needed asa witness."
"Oh, I don't know about that. The law is slow, they say, so I want to gonow and look at him, and shake my fist at him, and tell him that I amAngelina Rosa, and then, please, I am going on in the trolley to Boston.I had a letter from my mother. She'd like to see me, and I want to tellher about Miguel Silva."
"Would you leave us now, with no one to help us?"
Mrs. Stratford spoke sharply. Martine was too surprised to speak.
"I am sorry, of course," said Angelina, "the place isn't hard, andyou've been like a mother to me. But it's very quiet for me at York. Yousee we're not exactly in things, and I think I'd better be nearer home.My trunk is all packed, and I'll get the express to call to-day."
"Very well," said Mrs. Stratford, turning away with a dignity that gaveAngelina no chance to reply.
"Maggie would never have done this, and I am surprised at you,"remonstrated Martine as Angelina bade her good-bye.
"I am sorry you feel so," rejoined Angelina, "for I haven't a fault tofind with you and Mrs. Stratford. I have heard of a wash-lady that wouldcome in by the day, and I'll stop at her house on the way."
"Oh, no, we can look out for ourselves."
"It isn't that it hasn't been pleasant here," continued Angelina; "I'vehad a real good time almost always, but I'm homesick, and I have a dutyto my family, and I think I'd better go while Miguel Silva is where Ica
n get at him; for after to-day they might lock him up where I couldn'tsee him, and I want him to know what I think. There's only one thing Iwant to confess, Miss Martine. You remember when the cook went away lastwinter,--so unexpectedly, you know, before your dinner? Well, it was Iwho discharged her. I told her you wanted her to go, and I paid her forthe rest of the week. I was so anxious to have things all to myself, soI could show what I could do. But it didn't do me much good,--after theexpense of paying her,--for you kept getting cooks that wouldn't let memeddle. But I hope you'll think kindly of me, Miss Martine, and so nowgood-bye."
After this extraordinary speech, Angelina tripped gayly down the path inthe direction of the cars.
"It's frightful ingratitude!" said Martine. "I feel as if I should neverwish to do anything for any one again."
"Angelina has earned her money," responded Mrs. Stratford. "She hasworked pretty faithfully. As I have studied her character, I havesometimes wondered that she should stay so contentedly with us, when wehave given her so little opportunity to indulge in her favorite gossip."
"But what shall we do now? That is the question, mamma. Of course I willhelp all I can, but I am feeling tired, and you are not strong enough,and we must stay here."
"There, there, Martine, do not borrow trouble. To-day will take care ofitself, and as for to-morrow--"
"To-morrow," cried Clare, suddenly coming upon them, "will be the bestday for our Portsmouth excursion, and mamma has sent me over to inviteyou, Mrs. Stratford, to spend the day with her."
"There, Martine, to-morrow is provided for. Tell your mother, Clare,that I am only too happy to accept her invitation. I must leave you now,while Martine relates the story of Angelina."
As her mother turned toward the house, Martine told Clare of Angelina'sdeparture.
"You must find some one to take her place," said Clare. "You are thinnerthan when you came to York, and if you don't mind my saying so, you looktired."
To Clare's great surprise, her friend, instead of replying, shed a tearor two. But the tears were followed by smiles, as Martine exclaimed:
"There, I am almost as bad as Priscilla."
"But do you suppose that Angelina was right about the burglar? I wonderif your friend Balfour Airton has heard--"
"Oh, if the burglar has been caught, I am sure Balfour knows all aboutit. He was really very anxious himself to discover the fellow. If he isoff duty, he will probably come over to see us this evening--at least ifhe has anything to tell."