by Nell Speed
CHAPTER XII.
ANNIE'S MOTHER.
We were rather troubled about Annie Pore and what on earth she was goingto wear to the concert. Her wardrobe, not being extensive, was wellknown to all of her friends and certainly there was nothing suitable init for a girl who was going to have to stand up on the stage and sing.
"If she would only not be so proud," groaned Dum; "but who could say toLady Clara Vere de Vere, 'Let me lend you some of my duds?' Now Ishouldn't in the least mind borrowing anything from anybody if I thoughtthe person cared for me. Don't I wear the Liberty scarf your Cousin Suesent you every time I find it idle, and if I could borrow from you,Page, why shouldn't Annie?"
"Well, it is different, Dum, because Annie hasn't got anything. Youborrow the scarf just as a frill, but if it were a necessity I don'tbelieve you would." I had intense sympathy for Annie because I couldfancy what my own clothes would have been if dear Cousin Sue Lee had nothad them in charge. Miss Pinky Davis, our country dressmaker, would haveturned out just such another crooked seamed suit as Annie's if CousinSue had not insisted on a mail order, and I know my shirtwaists wouldhave been big where they should have been little, and little where theyshould have been big: and as for Middy blouses, there is no telling whatthey would have looked like: rick-rack trimming on the collar, no doubt,and ruffles around the tail. Cousin Sue did let Miss Pinky make me somewhite evening dresses and they turned out all right because Cousin Suebridled Miss Pinky's fancy.
"Let me see," said Dee, "as far as I can remember Annie has a blue sergeskirt, two white shirtwaists, one blue poplin one and a plaid silkblouse for Sunday. I can't bear to think of her on the stage in any ofthat array. Of course it makes no difference to any of us, but think ofthat nasty Mabel Binks and her following! Ugh! I tell you one thing,"she added excitedly, "if any of them make Annie feel bad, they've got meto fight."
"Me, too," chimed in Dum.
"Well, I can't see that that would help Annie's clothes much," Ilaughed, "but it might keep you, Tweedles, from having apoplexy."
"Dee, you've got so much tact, you go see Annie and find out what she isgoing to wear," suggested Dum.
"Oh, no, not me! I'm so afraid I might leak, and that would never do,"and Dee got out a handkerchief ready for emergencies. "You see, I feelso bad about Annie and so desperately sorry for her that I have to cryjust thinking about her, and what would it be if she should get out herpoor little blouses and ask my advice? Just think of all the clothes JoBarr has, simply going to waste and how old Jo would love to dress Annieup in them! Still, we all know that Annie would be cut to the quick atthe suggestion of such a thing. Oh, dear, oh, dear! I wonder whatZebedee would do."
"Well, I know what I am going to do," I said, uncurling myself from thewindow sill where I could, by a good deal of craning of the neck, catcha glimpse of my beloved mountains; "I'm going in and have it out withAnnie. She knows I love her and I don't believe I'll hurt her feelings.I think she trusts us, and when you really trust people they simplycan't hurt your feelings unless you have a natural born chip on yourshoulder, which Annie hasn't."
"Oh, Page, you are just like Zebedee," tweedled the twins. "That's whathe would do."
I found Annie looking very like old Rain-in-the-Face. She was in aforlorn heap on the floor; her eyes red; her ripe-wheat hair alldisheveled; and in her hand a crumpled letter. On the floor by her wasan unopened box which had just come by parcels post.
Her "Come in" in answer to my knock had been more like a sob than aninvitation to enter.
"What is it, dear Annie? Tweedles and I have just been talking about youand we wonder if you know how much we love you. Do you?"
"Oh, Page, I don't see how you can!"
"Well, we do, and I said I believed you loved us enough to trust us. Imean to understand that we could never hurt your feelings in anypossible way, just because we'd rather be boiled alive than hurt you."
Annie looked up and smiled a rather watery smile, but a smile all thesame.
"Now s'pose you trust me and tell me what is the matter. What arefriends for if you can't tell them your troubles?"
"Oh, Page, I'd like to tell you, but it would seem so disloyal to myFather."
"You understand, Annie, that if you tell me anything it would be justlike telling it to a Father Confessor. I mean I'd never breathe a wordof it." It sounded as though I were full of curiosity, but while ofcourse I did want to know, my reason for pressing Annie was that I feltshe needed to let off steam, that is, her pent-up emotions.
"I know you are the best friend any girl ever had and I believe I willtell you all about everything."
"Well, wash your face first and let me brush your hair while you talk."
So Annie got up and bathed her face, and while I combed and brushed herthick, yellow hair, she told me the following tale:
"You see, Page, my Father is an Englishman and he is awfully proud. Hedoes not understand a little girl a bit nor did he understand mybeautiful Mother. He loved her, though, adored her, in fact, and I knowhas never been happy one minute since she died; that's been about fouryears now. He does not love me, though, I am afraid; but maybe I do himan injustice and don't understand him. Anyhow, he is never chummy andchatty with me like Mr. Tucker is with Tweedles."
"I bet he does love you, Annie. My Father is not so intimate with me asMr. Tucker is with his girls, but I know he loves me. You see, Mr.Tucker is almost the same age as his daughters and I fancy your Fatheris much older than you are, just as mine is." And I went on brushingher hair, knowing she was becoming calmer and beginning rather to enjoytalking about herself.
"My Father, you know, is very well born; in fact, his Father was abaronet of very ancient stock and his elder brother now has the titleand estates. Father was educated for the church. He has an Oxford degreeand is very scholarly. However, after all his education, he did not wantto take orders. He felt that he had no vocation for the ministry, and heand my grandfather had an awful row about it. You see, English youngersons have to do something. Mother told me all this. Father has nevermentioned it to me. He occasionally reminds me that I am of good birthand that is his only reference to England. Immediately after this rowwith Grandfather, he met Mother and fell in love with her at firstsight. It was at a Charity Bazaar."
"Oh----!" I exclaimed involuntarily, but made out I was sneezing. Iremembered the conversation I had held with Harvie Price about Mrs. Poreand the Charity Bazaar.
"Mother's people are noble, too. She was the daughter of a younger sonof the Earl of Garth, but she had not a penny to her name. When she metmy Father, she was visiting some very wealthy relatives who wereinterested in her and preparing to launch her on the concert stage.Mother had a wonderful voice, you know."
"Yes, Harvie Price told me that all the old sinners in your county wentto church to hear her sing."
"Well, Mother fell in love, too, and in spite of all that her richrelatives had to say about her career, she married Father; and then whatdid Grandfather, Sir Isaac Pore, do but stop Father's allowance? It wasnot very much but it was enough for the young couple to live on if theylived very simply. Sir Isaac thought he could force Father into takingorders; but Father was opposed to doing this, feeling he was not suitedto the Church, and Mother upheld him in his resolve."
"They were right, I think. It seems an awful sin to me for a man just togo into the ministry for a living," I ventured.
"Of course they were right. Then my parents were in a quandary. Fatherhad about two thousand dollars to his name and that wouldn't go veryfar. They decided to come to America, he to go into some kind ofbusiness and Mother to do something with her voice. They stayed in NewYork for a year. He got some teaching, coaching boys for college, andshe sang in a church. Mother said they had a hard time. Father's mannerwas proud and overbearing and he was so intolerant of Americans that helost pupils constantly. Then my brother was born and Mother had to giveup her position in the church."
"Oh, I did not know you had a brother!" I exclaimed.
> "Yes, he died before I was born. He lived five years, I believe. I thinkthat is one reason Father does not love me more. You see, all of hishopes were settled on the boy, who was in line for the title. My uncle,the present baronet, has no boys. Well, they got on the best they coulduntil the boy died. They went from place to place, Father always able toget pupils because of his talents and education and always losing thembecause of his proud intolerance. Mother had lots of tact and charm andshe was always smoothing things over and pacifying Father."
"From Mother!" exclaimed the girl, trembling withexcitement.--_Page 156._]
"She must have loved him a whole lot not to have pacified him with a bigstick," I thought, but I did not give utterance to my reflection.
"They finally landed in Norfolk. I was born there, so you see, I am aVirginian. While at Norfolk, Mother heard of the country store atPrice's Landing which could be bought for very little. She had come intopossession of a small legacy, and she immediately bought the store andall the stock and we moved there and have been there ever since."
"English people are always getting small legacies. I never heard ofAmericans getting them," I said as I plaited Annie's hair in the greatrope that was the envy of us all.
"We really have prospered at Price's Landing. Mother took charge of thestore a great deal and by her graciousness won customers, and when oncepeople get used to Father, they don't seem to mind his stiffness somuch; everybody but me; somehow, I'm always afraid of him," and Annielooked very sadly at the crumpled letter in her lap.
"Mother was so gay and cheerful; I wish I could be like her. She wouldsing at her work and Father would smile and look almost happy when hewould hear her voice."
"Don't you sing at your work ever?" I asked.
"No, no, I am so afraid of disturbing Father."
"I bet he'd like it. Why don't you try? Your voice must be like yourMother's."
"Oh, I couldn't--really, Page. Well, to go on:
"Mother used to play a lovely game with me, and no one knew we wereplaying it, which made it just so much more fun. We used to pretendwhile we were keeping store that it was a Charity Bazaar----" (I laughedaloud) "especially when dear old General Price came in for anything. Yousee, most of the people at Price's Landing, while very kind and good,are quite ordinary; but General Price is very aristocratic and fine, andwe could play the game with him to perfection. He had so much mannerthat sometimes it almost seemed that he was playing, too." This was toodelicious, and here was I sworn to secrecy! I certainly did want to tellHarvie Price, but a Father Confessor must keep many good things tohimself.
"Mother died when I was eleven." I made a rapid calculation how longpoor Annie must have been wearing the old crepe hat. "Since then, Fatherand I have looked after the store together and now we have a clerk,"only Annie called it "clark." "We are not so poor as we used to be andthe books show we are making a very comfortable living, but Father savesand saves. He started doing it before Mother died and it worried her alot. She said he used to be a great spender and she had to do thesaving, but when money began to come more easily he seemed to hate topart with it. She made him promise before she died that I should go toboarding school or I know it would never have come about. Of course hedoesn't know how girls of the day dress and how odd I look, but even ifhe did know I believe he would let me be ridiculous rather than spendmoney on anything that he considered unnecessary." Annie's eyesflashed, which was an improvement on the eternal tears she seemed soprepared to shed.
"I am going to let you read this letter from him so you can see," andshe handed me the crumpled sheet. It was the letter which is in the lastchapter.
It was certainly some letter. I could not help comparing it with the oneI had just received from my Father, and also one that Tweedles had readme from their Zebedee. I hardly knew what to say but I knew what tothink, and that was that one of the so-called "vulgar Americans" oughtto give him a good beating!
"Well, Annie, I wouldn't mind that letter. Your Governor evidentlydoesn't understand girls. Let's have a look in the box." We cut thestring and took off the outside wrapper. The box was tightly corded.
"It is just as Mother left it," sighed Annie. "He didn't even open it tosee if the things in it were of any value for me. I'm glad he didn't,because I like to feel that I am untying her knots myself."
We didn't cut those strings, but Annie carefully and reverently pickedloose the knots. When the top was taken off the box, there was a faintsmell of dried rose leaves. The contents were carefully wrapped in bluetissue paper. "To keep the things from turning yellow with age,"whispered Annie.
I felt somehow as though I were at a funeral. Annie didn't cry, though,as one might have expected, but her countenance shone with a kind ofsubdued light and she looked like an angel. She shook out a soft, white,crepe de Chine dress made over silk. It looked as fresh as though it hadjust come from the dressmaker's. In another wrapper was a lovely reallace scarf and in yet another some white silk stockings.
"Oh, Annie, Annie!" and I jumped up and down for joy. "They are exactlyright for you! And see how carefully they have been packed! Not awrinkle in the dress! Here, take off your clothes and try it on."
"Mother wore it at the Charity Bazaar where she met Father. Her richcousin had just had it made for her," and the excited child began totake off her shabby blouse and skirt.
"All you will need for the concert is white slippers and you will surelywear mine just to let me know you love me," I begged.
Annie flushed and I was afraid her stubborn pride was going to masterher, but she astonished me by saying: "Yes, I will wear them if you willlend them to me. I remember Mother told me she had to borrow slippersfrom a friend that night, but she knew her friend loved her and so didnot mind."
I slipped the dress over her head, but as she pushed her arm into thesleeve she stopped and drew her hand quickly out.
"Wait, the sleeve is pinned." So it was, and pinned through a letterthat was sealed and addressed to Annie.
"From Mother!" exclaimed the girl, trembling with excitement. "Every nowand then I find a little note from her. She knew she could not live fora long time before she died." Out fluttered two ten-dollar bills and afive wrapped in a tiny penciled note.
My Darling:
The time may come when you will wish to wear this dress that I have saved so carefully for you; and when that time comes you may also want a little money that perhaps you will not have, money for clothes, I mean. I give you this twenty-five dollars for your very own, to spend as your needs require. It is not much, but it may help you to look like other girls. Fathers do not always understand what girls need, but Mothers know. I earned this money myself, giving singing lessons to the blacksmith's daughter and you helped me by keeping store while I taught, so you can take added pleasure in spending it.
MOTHER.
Something happened right here that was to say the least unexpected: I,Page Allison, gave up and cried like a baby. I know I hadn't cried sosince old Buster, my pointer, died. And Annie Pore, instead of bawling,which she would have been perfectly justified in doing, never shed atear; but with that exalted look on her face, which she had worn fromthe time she opened the box, she actually comforted me by patting me onthe back and smoothing my hair.
"Page, Page, it's all right; don't be so miserable," she said as sheendeavored to soothe me. So I blew my blooming nose and made her go ontrying on the dress. It was a wonderful fit, just a little too long fora girl of fifteen, but we hemmed it up in no time. Strange to say,although the dress was more than twenty years old, it was not out ofstyle but cut very much according to the prevailing mode. The truth ofthe matter is that Dame Fortune is quite like the old preacher who wrotea barrel of sermons, and when he had preached them all, he just turnedthe barrel up-side-down and began again. Fashions and styles get put inthe barrel only to appear again a
fter so many years.
"Have you a catalogue for a mail-order house, Page? Because I want tospend my money right off."
"Yes, I'll get it for you just as soon as my nose dies down a little. Idon't want Tweedles to know I've been crying. What are you going toget?"
"Plenty of middy blouses and a good skirt to wear with them, somedancing slippers and some kind of simple dress I can put on in theevening, if the money can be stretched to it."
I was sure it could with careful ordering; and in a few minutes Ithought my nose would bear inspection, so I went back to 117 to get thecatalogue. Tweedles was out visiting, so I did not have to run thegauntlet of their curiosity.
Annie and I soon found exactly the right things in my wonder book, andwe had the letter written ordering the things before the warning bellrang for visiting to cease.
"I fancy Father would be awfully cut up if he could know I am spendingall of this money on my clothes; but he needn't know anything about it.I can wear my old things during the holidays and next summer----"
"Oh, Annie," I broke in, "you are making an awful mistake if you do notlet your Father know all about this letter from your Mother, and takehim into your confidence immediately. It wouldn't be fair to him if youdidn't."
"Not fair to Father! I never thought of such a thing. I am afraid hewill be awfully angry with me."
"How could he be? Aren't you doing exactly what your Mother tells youto? I tell you, honey, it pays every time to be perfectly frank. You tryand see if it doesn't."
The warning bell rang and I had to beat a hasty retreat, but before Iwent I kissed poor little Annie and she clung to me and whispered: "Iknow you are right and I'll write to Father to-morrow and send himMother's letter."
"That's a good girl; but, Annie, get your letter off to New York foryour things first before the Governor has time to veto it."
"Well, what ho!" exclaimed the twins as they tore in to our rooms,undressing as they came to beat the lights out bell to bed. "Tell us allabout Annie!"
"There's nothing to tell," I declared, making the mental reservationthat there was nothing I could tell, "except that her father sent her apretty white crepe de Chine dress that she is going to look charming in,and she has consented to borrow my white slippers for the occasion."
"Oh, how splendid!" cried Dum. But Dee looked at me very solemnly andsaid: "Page Allison, I know where to put my confidence. Annie Pore hastold you the story of her life and wild horses could not drag it fromyou. I wouldn't have even known she had told if your precious littlefreckled nose wasn't as red as a cherry." I felt awfully foolish but Iborrowed my policy from the Tar Baby "an' kep' on sayin' nothin'."
After the light was out, I gave a little audible chuckle as I lay theregoing over in my mind the very exciting happenings of the evening. Ichuckled to think what Mabel Binks would say if she knew the despised"Orphan Annie" was the granddaughter of a baronet on her father's sideand the great-granddaughter of an earl on her mother's.