CHAPTER V--THE GRAY STONE HOUSE
"Do you know, Helen," exclaimed Nathalie, looking at her friend withreminiscent eyes, "that it is only three weeks since I met you, but itseems like three months."
"That is because you have been on probation for a Pioneer," retortedHelen smilingly, "and are beginning to take life more seriously."
"Not very seriously, I am afraid," lamented Nathalie, "judging from thebungle I made in trying to learn that square knot."
"Oh, you will learn," encouraged Helen, "but I must be off, for I havesome typing to do for to-morrow." Yes, Helen's new friend knew that shewas learning to be a stenographer. When that little fact had beendivulged in the natural course of events, Nathalie had listened withgreat interest to Helen's declaration of her life purpose--to beindependent--not only for the pleasure that independence would bring toher, but because she wanted to earn money so that she could give hermother little comforts and luxuries that Mrs. Dame had been deniedbecause her husband's income was limited.
Instead of scorning her, as the girl had feared, Nathalie had wished hergreat success, apparently appreciating the unselfish motive thatactuated her, while lamenting that she herself was not as clever.
"O dear," she had impulsively declared, "I want to earn money, too; oh,if I only had a purpose in life! I do not want to be a drone." And thenon the impulse of the moment she had confided to Helen her manydisappointments, and how anxious they all were about her brother Dick,fearful that he might never recover the use of his leg. To Helen it hadseemed that since these mutual confidences a closer friendship had grownup between them, much to that young lady's joy.
She had just finished hearing Nathalie recite the Pioneer Pledge andlaws, give the names of the Presidential party, as Nathalie called them,adding the name of the governor of the State in which she lived,describe the United States flag, sew a button on--as it should be done,she had declared with solemn unction--and then exhibit her skill at tyinga square knot.
"After you become a Bluebird at the Pilgrim Rally to-morrow, I shallbegin to drill you in the tests necessary to make you a Second-ClassPioneer," Helen had declared when the lesson was over and she began togather up her sewing materials.
"Oh, will you?" cried Nathalie, "but when can I become one?"
"In a month," was the reply, "if you pass the tests; but there, I shallnever get my work done if I stand here and talk," and Helen started forthe steps.
"Yes, and I am in a hurry to hear what Dr. Morrow says about Dick'sknee," returned Nathalie as she followed her friend to the edge of theveranda. "You know he was in this morning to examine it; I am so anxiousto hear what he had to say."
"How did your brother injure his knee?" asked Helen as she paused at thefoot of the steps, "I have often wanted to ask."
"Why, he slipped on the ice just two days after Father's death,"rejoined Nathalie, her eyes darkening sorrowfully. "The New Yorkphysician said it was only sprained ligaments and would be all rightsoon. But he has been growing worse--it pains him dreadfullysometimes--oh, you don't know how worried we are--" her voice quavered,"suppose he should be lame for life!"
"Oh, don't get nervous over it," advised Helen cheerfully, "but hurry inand see what Dr. Morrow said. To be sure he is only a one-horse-towndoctor, but it is claimed that he is an expert surgeon," and then with asmile and a wave of her hand she hastened toward the gate.
Nathalie watched her friend with brightening eyes as she hurried acrossthe lawn. Somehow the girl's companionship had revived her droopingspirits; the many little chats they had had about the Pioneers and thetests, coupled with the anticipation of becoming one, had in a measurebrightened her life. To be sure, they could never take the place of herfriends of the city, but might perhaps dull the longing for the thingsof the past and the desires that at times threatened to overwhelm her.She realized that she was beginning to take a keener interest in hersurroundings, and felt that it was all owing to the Pioneers.
"Nathalie, I am here--in the sitting-room!" called her mother's voicefaintly a few moments later as she heard the girl's step in the hall. Anapprehensive pang seized Nathalie's heart as she flew to her mother'sside.
"What did the doctor say, Mumsie?" she demanded anxiously. "Will Dick belame?"
"I hope not, Nathalie, but there will have to be an operation--" hermother's voice sank to a whisper, "and oh, it will cost us severalhundred dollars." Here Mrs. Page broke down, and burying her face on herdaughter's shoulder wept silently. The girl gently patted thegray-streaked head as she hugged the slender form closely, but withintuitive divination she let her have her cry out, although she wasseething with impatience, for she knew it would prove a relief to themother heart.
"It is all right, I am just a coward." Mrs. Page choked a moment, thenimprinted a wet kiss on the rounded cheek so close to her own as shefelt the comfort of her unspoken sympathy. "I am sure Dick will be allright in time--but I am so worried--I have had bad news, too. It does seemas if misfortunes never come singly, as they claim," she said, thrustinga crumpled sheet of paper into her daughter's hand.
The girl's eyes swept the type-written page, once, twice, then in atense tone she demanded, "Oh, Mother, do you mean that the Portlandcement bonds are in danger--why, I thought--"
"They are to stop paying interest while the company is beingreorganized; something has gone wrong. I was afraid of it, as they saycement is being sold at a very low figure."
"But perhaps it will only be for a time, you are crossing your bridgesbefore you get there as Father used to say," Nathalie replied withattempted cheerfulness, "but did you not say that they were firstmortgage bonds?"
"Yes, but child, we have got to live," exclaimed her mother irritably;"that money, the interest, is part of my income, and it is littleenough--expenses are so heavy. And where the money will come for Dick'soperation I am sure I don't know--but there, don't worry--it will be allright in time, I know." She sank back in her chair and dabbed herreddened eyelids with her moist handkerchief.
"But, Mumsie, tell me, why is it necessary for Dick to have anoperation?" questioned Nathalie insistently with anxious eyes.
"The doctor says there is a bone in his leg infected. It will have to beremoved, and a new bone put in."
"A new bone put in!" ejaculated Nathalie, "why--"
"Yes, it is something new in surgery," replied her mother. "Dr. Morrowsays thousands of cripples have been made well by this new method oftreating cases like Dick's. He says--" a long sigh--"if Dick does not havean operation, he will probably be lame, if he is ever able to walk atall." The tears began to glisten in Mrs. Page's eyes again, as Nathalie,with a sudden sharp realization what this would mean for Dick and all ofthem, turned and rushed from the room with the dread that if sheremained a moment longer she too would fall to weeping.
She hastened up the attic stairs to her den; she wanted time to think.Oh, suppose there should be no money for the operation, and Dick shouldbe lame all the rest of his life, Dick, who had always been so well androbust, and who for his athletic prowess had won so many silver cups andmedals! She threw herself into the low rocker, and leaning her head onher desk began to cry softly; she did not want Mother to hear.
Oh, why did they have so much trouble? How hard it was to lose herfather, her beautiful home and friends, to give up college, to have tolive in that poky old town--even the Pioneers could not compensate forthat--and then to have Dick lame because they had no money! Nathalie wepton in woeful lamentation, feeling with the untriedness of youth that shewas a great martyr. Did not God's world owe her happiness? Was it notsinning against her in denying her right to its joys?
But even sorrow has its limit, and gradually her sobs died away to ashiver, as her head dropped wearily on the back of her chair. Oh, if shewere not so helpless, if she could only earn money like Helen! But whatcould she do? She couldn't sew, she had no musical ability--like Lucille!A Bob White whistle, followed by a "Tru-al-lee!" beneath her windowreminded her that she had promised to take a walk with Grace T
yson.
Yes, Nathalie knew that "Tru-al-lee!" for that young lady was the onlyPioneer who could so successfully imitate that little bird's sweettrill. She jumped up quickly, and then with the buoyancy of youth castall her dismal forebodings skyward and hurried down to the lower floor.
"I'll be down in a moment," she called out to Grace, who had justentered the hall and was chatting with Dick, who had been reading on thecouch. She flew into the bath-room, scrubbed her face vigorously amoment, and then flying into her room grabbed her hat from its peg inthe closet, and then hastened down the stairs humming blithely a newragtime song as she went.
"I want to say good-by to Mother," she exclaimed as she nodded to Graceand hurried into the sitting-room. But when she saw the big pile ofmending on the table in front of Mrs. Page, a sudden guilty pangassailed her.
"Oh, Mumsie," she cried, "don't you do that mending. I will do it when Icome back. I meant to do it yesterday," she excused herself lamely, "butI forgot all about it."
"Never mind, daughter, perhaps it will keep me from worrying," was thereply; "as 'tis said, there is nothing like work to keep up one'sspirits."
"Oh, Mumsie," the girl cried impulsively, rubbing her hands caressinglyover her mother's cheek, "don't let's worry any more. We're just sillyto cry over what may not happen," and then she added hopefully, "I'msure things will come out all right."
Mrs. Page's eyes filled as she bent forward and kissed herwould-be-comforter. "Yes, we are silly, no doubt," she smiled throughher tears, "to waste time and strength worrying over what, after all,may not happen."
"But, Mother," suddenly questioned the girl with uneasy eyes, "do--do youthink I ought to become a Pioneer?"
"Why not, Nathalie?" inquired Mrs. Page in surprise. "Perhaps it willteach you some of the many things you should know, for if we are to bepoor, you may have to earn your own living. Resourcefulness, courage,those will be the things--" her mother's voice ceased abruptly.
Nathalie remained silent; there was a note in her mother's voice thatseemed like reproof. A sudden depression seized her again as it came toher with renewed force how helpless she was, what things Helen did tohelp her mother, and the many useful things the Pioneer girls--plaingirls, too, who had never had the advantages that she had had--could do.
But mentally pushing these reproachful thoughts aside with therebellious feeling that she had never been brought up to do thesethings, that she had been born a lady, she stooped and kissed her motherhastily and hurriedly joined Grace on the veranda.
"Where shall we walk?" she asked that young girl, as they passed downthe street. She glanced up at the blue sky, where snowy clouds driftedlike rudderless ships at sea.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, but Mrs. Morrow has asked me to deliver anote to 'The Mystic.'"
"'The Mystic?'" echoed Nathalie in doubting amazement, "why I thoughtshe had never had anything to do--"
"To do with the people of the town," finished Grace. "Well, she doesn'tas a rule, but she is one of Dr. Morrow's patients and had the grace toreturn Mrs. Morrow's call. I hate to go, as I know she dislikes youngpeople, but of course I could not say no to Mrs. Morrow, and then, too,I rather think she is writing to ask her if we could have her lawn forone of our demonstrations. We had a lovely idea for a May-Daycelebration, but we had to give it up, as we had no place to hold it."
"What were you going to have?" inquired Nathalie, as the two girlsturned up the hill leading to the big gray house enclosed in its barrierof gray wall.
"We were going to get some ox carts and decorate them with Mayflowers,and parade to the grounds. There we were to choose a queen and dancearound the May-pole in welcome to the goddess of spring. Fred was to beRobin Hood--O dear," she suddenly ejaculated with a dismayed face, "I dobelieve I left the note at home. What a ninny I am! Why, I pinned it tothe cushion so I wouldn't forget it and then walked straight off andleft it."
The girls stared blankly at one another a moment and then Grace cried,"Come, we might as well go back for it; do you mind? It is only a fewblocks out of our way."
On receiving Nathalie's assent she added contentedly, "I'll get Dorcasto make us some lemonade to cool us off, and--why, I can show you myPioneer room!"
"Oh, I should just love to see it!" enthused Nathalie; "Helen told meabout it. She said she was going to suggest that the groups of thePioneer band have a Pioneer room."
"Isn't it old-timey?" she mused a half hour later, as Grace ushered herinto a low-ceiled room whose walls were flauntingly gay with a paper ofmany-colored tulips, which, Grace proudly admitted, was decidedly Dutchand for that reason had been selected.
Nathalie's keen eyes were lured to the photographs, water-colors,etchings, and cuts from magazines, all representative of pioneer days,that peeped from between the gorgeous rows of tulips. An etching of NewAmsterdam dated 1650, with rows of one story houses, with their gableends notched like steps, and weather vanes surmounted with grotesquedesigns of horses, lions, and geese, proved a great contrast in itsquaint simplicity to the New York of to-day.
Her eyes swept from this pictured history to the four-poster with itsdimity valance, and then on to the oval dressing table, resplendent withsilver candle-sticks, snuffers, and a curious little Dutch lamp with afunny mite of a tinder-box by its side.
"But that clock is a dear!" she murmured as her gaze lingered admiringlyupon a tall grandfather's clock in the corner, which returned her glancewith such old-time solemnity on its ivory-tinted face that Nathalie'sbrain became a movie screen, one scene after another presentingthemselves to her vivid imagination.
"Father gave that clock to me last birthday," informed Grace with pride;"it belonged to the Very Reverend Henricus Van Twiller, one of myforebears. See, there's his picture over the mantel," pointing to aseamed and dingy-looking canvass of said forebear, who looked down atthem with stolid complacency.
"Yes, it is very old," continued Grace, "some unimaginative relative ofPapa was going to chop it up with Georgie's little hatchet, but Fatherrescued it just in time. But you must look at the spinning-wheel.Grandmother gave it to me for being a thief."
"Yes," she rattled on, "I stole a satin bow from her old wedding gownfor a souvenir, and when she discovered what I had done, the old dearnot only forgave me, but added this spinning-wheel to my collection ofthings ancient. See, here is the bow on the distaff. But come, let's godown and have the lemonade, I'm dying for a cooling drink."
As the two girls sat sipping the beverage, Grace suddenly sprang upcrying, "Oh, there's Fred! I want you to meet him!" She began to waveand call frantically in the direction of the lawn, where a tall,well-formed youth was striding, nonchalantly swinging his tennis-racket.
"Oh, I say, kid, what do you want? I'm in a hurry!" came in response amoment later, as the youth stopped and eyed his sister impatiently,vigorously mopping his face, for the day was warm.
But as he caught sight of Nathalie, his excuses suddenly ceased, andwith a few strides he reached the veranda and was eyeing the new girl'shealth-flushed face and sparkling brown eyes with much favor. After ahearty shake of the hand in answer to his sister's introduction, hedropped into a chair by Nathalie's side, and soon they were all chattingand laughing merrily as Fred told of some Scout adventure that hadhappened on their last hike.
"But you had an adventure, too, did you not?" he asked suddenly, lookingat the young girl by his side with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "theday you were rescued by the Pioneers?"
"Oh, did you hear about that?" Nathalie cried, her face taking on adeeper tinge of pink. She had always felt the least mite ashamed of thatmishap.
"Yes, and how about the blue robins?" he continued in a quizzing tone.
"Oh, Grace," exclaimed Nathalie, "you have been telling tales!" and thenwith a laugh, she told of finding the bluebird's nest, excusing herignorance by the plea that she was a city-bred girl.
The conversation soon drifted to Boy Scouts, Fred being a Patrol Leader,and greatly interested in the organization. Finding that Nathalie
hadhad some difficulty in learning knot-tying, he kindly volunteered togive her a lesson in that intricate art. His pupil proved an aptscholar, as it was not long before she had mastered the weaver's, theoverhand, the reef, and had gained a fair insight into several otherknots. Before the lesson had ended Fred had asked if he might not comeup some evening with Grace, and give her another lesson and meet herbrother Dick.
Nathalie's face dimpled; she hastened to assure him that she would bepleased to welcome them at the house, and that she knew her brotherwould be more than delighted to know a Westport lad. And then she toldhim all about her brother's misfortune, and how depressed he grew attimes without his chums to drop in and cheer him.
The clock had just struck four when the girls, escorted by Fred, whoclaimed he was going their way, neared the high stone wall overtoppedwith gray turrets and nodding trees that looked as if they yearned toleap beyond their barrier.
"Wasn't it a queer idea to build a beautiful house like this and thenfence it in like some old monastery?" questioned Grace. "See, here's abell in the stone gate, the way they used to have it in olden times."
"Ugh! I hate to go in--the place gives me the creeps!" she shiverednervously. "Oh, Fred, do come in with us, we shall not be long."
Fred took out his watch, and finding that he was not hurried for timeyielded to his sister's entreaties and rang the bell. Presently the doorwas opened by a stern-looking man in overalls, evidently a gardener.
He frowned unpleasantly when the girls asked to see Mrs. Van Vorst, butwhen Grace produced her note and said she had been sent by Dr. Morrow'swife, he reluctantly held the gate open for them to enter.
Nathalie gazed eagerly down the garden path, with its old-time hedge andtall pines that swayed gently to the rhythm of the May breezes, leadingto the handsome modern structure at the end. It was colonial in design,with low French windows and overhanging Juliet balconies here and there.A long veranda ran across the front, with high white pillars, and aporte-cochere.
"This is the old Dutch shack," remarked Fred irreverently a moment or solater, as they stood in front of the weather-beaten landmark that clunglike some ugly parasite to the stately mansion which towered above it.
Nathalie's eyes were awe-struck as her glance traveled over the slopingroof with its red chimneys, where quaint dormer windows stood forth likethrust out heads from its gray shingles. The long, low porch, only afoot from the ground, was almost lost to view behind the vines ofhoneysuckle and rambling roses screening the trellis. Bushes ofhollyhocks, white peonies and many old-time posies grew in a riotoushedge around it.
Fred showed her the hatchet-scarred door-lintel, a memento of savageferocity, and told of the little Dutch maiden who, from a small windowabove the door, fired on a group of redskins as they hammered againstit, killing two. In the rear of the homestead he pointed out agrass-grown mound, where it was claimed an outhouse once stood, leadingto an underground passageway, where the settlers at times took refugewhen hearing the fiendish war-whoop.
As the girls nervously ascended the low steps leading to thebroad-floored veranda of the gray house, Fred turned back towards thegate, promising to wait outside for them.
As the great door swung open in answer to their ring, and the butler'simpassive face stared stonily at them, the girls were tempted to turntail and follow Fred as he went whistling down the path. But Graceconquered the inclination, and with assumed boldness asked for Mrs. VanVorst.
For an instant Nathalie thought the man was going to shut the door intheir faces, but when Grace held out the note for confirmation of herwords his impassivity relaxed somewhat, and with stiff formality heasked them to walk in. With hushed breath they gazed curiously about thehall, while a stag's head above a quaintly-carved table eyed themglassily.
The rusty swords, the flint-locks, and many other curios that decoratedthe casement, beneath faded canvasses of ancient dames and sires,possessed a weird charm for the girl. She was particularly beguiled bythe wide oaken staircase with its daintily carved balustrade that rosespiral-like to the floor above, and to her imaginative ear there camethe swish of a brocade gown as some haughty fair one, kin to thecanvassed beauties on the tapestried walls, came with tap of dainty heeldown the broad stairway.
But no romantic thing occurred as the butler, still retaining hissphinx-like mask, ushered them into a little reception room opening fromthe hall fitted up to simulate a Chinese pagoda. The girls seatedthemselves on two teakwood chairs and stared silently at the many curiosthat gleamed from cabinet and screen, each betraying some eccentriccustom of the land of the yellow peril.
"O dear, I feel as if I were a beggar!" observed Grace with anapprehensive shiver. "Ugh, I should hate to have that grim-looking mancome back and tell me my company wasn't wanted."
Nathalie burst into a giggle, which was quickly suppressed insympathetic recognition of her companion's mood. Her eye was caught by ahuge mandarin who grinned at her with a hideous leer, and she shivered,half wondering if some of the many evil spirits believed to inhabitChina were not hidden behind his wrinkled brown skin, and were lookingat her through his bead-like eyes, trying to hypnotize her with hissinister glare. Surely those glittering, shiny specks of eyes didmove--oh, what was that? She jumped to her feet, crouching all of a heapin abject fear as she stared with horror-stricken eyes at the mandarin,as if that weird, shrill scream that had suddenly broken the grimsilence had come from his mummy-like lips.
"Oh, what is it?" whispered Grace in a hoarse whisper, as she stared inparalyzed appeal at Nathalie.
Before Nathalie could answer another cry, more piercing and, if couldbe, more blood-curdling than the first, came echoing down the hall,followed by a demoniacal laugh which assured Nathalie that the terrorwas something more human than an old Chinese idol. Grace, with a franticscream of terror that almost equaled in its intensity the one that theyhad heard sprang into the hall and rushed frenziedly toward the door!
Nathalie stood a moment in indecision, utterly at a loss to determinewhence came the horrible shrieks, but in another instant, as another onerent the air with the same frenzied note of merriment, she hesitated nolonger. As fast as her fear-tied feet would allow her, she flew into thehall, through the door that Grace had flung wide open, and withterror-winged feet and thumping heart rushed pell-mell down the widesteps and along the path after Grace!
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