At Boarding School with the Tucker Twins

by Nell Speed

  CHAPTER XX.

  DINNER AT COUSIN PARK'S.

  Sunday dawned and with it the consciousness that I had to go through theordeal of dinner with Cousin Park. Oh, how I hated the thought of it! Wehad slept late after the unusual hours we had kept the night before, andMr. Tucker had kindly had our breakfast sent up from the cafe.

  "That's to make up for treating us the way he did last night," said Dum,buttering her cakes as she sat up in bed.

  "Treating us what way?" inquired Dee.

  "Dancing with that Binks abomination. He knew he had no business to doit."

  "Why, Dum," I said, determined to cool her down if possible, "I don'treally see how Mr. Tucker could have done otherwise. A schoolmate whofrom all appearances is devoted to his daughters, joins our group andlets it be known that she is dying to dance, indeed is thinking ofdancing alone. Why, there was no way for a gentleman to behave than justexactly as Zeb--I mean Mr. Tucker--did behave. I would have been pleasedif my Father had done exactly as yours did, and I believe Father wouldif her innuendos had been addressed to him."

  "Well, Doctor Allison would never have hopped as Zebedee did. What Ihate to think about is the way that girl is going to tell all the girlsat school about our handsome young Father and how he devoted himself toher. I bet she comes here to-day on some pretext or other."

  "Well, I'll sic Brindle on her if she does. He can't stand cats!" hissedDee, who was becoming worked up by Dum's evident passion.

  "Well, I'll tell you one thing: the ruder you are to Mabel the morepolite your Father will be; and the more polite you are, the moreindifferent Mr. Tucker will be," I admonished.

  "How did you get so wise, old Solomon?" asked Dum, in rather muffledtones through a mouthful of flannel cakes.

  "Why, Mammy Susan says, 'Men folks an' mules is moughty sim'lar; jes'nachally contrary-wise. Ef yer want 'em ter go ter de mill, make outdey's got ter stay in de parsture, an' jes' ter spite yer dey'll run allde way ter de mill.'"

  "Well, we'll make out Zebedee has got to go to the mill and he'll wantto stay in the pasture. Mabel Binks is more like a mill than a pasture,"said Dum, rather taken with my philosophy.

  "Yes, and 'All is grist that comes to her mill,' too," declared Dee. "Iam going to try the plan on Zebedee this minute," and she bounced up anddonning slippers and kimono went in to the living room where Mr. Tuckerwas deep in the Sunday paper. She left the door slightly ajar and Dumand I could plainly hear the conversation.

  "Good morning, Zebedee," and the sound of a hearty kiss. "It was awfullygood of you to have breakfast sent up to us. We did not mean tooversleep."

  "Glad to do it, Tweedledeedles. I thought all of you would be tiredafter tripping the light fantastic toe almost into Sunday morning."

  "Say, Zebedee, Page has to go to her Cousin Park's to dinner to-day, sodon't you think it would be nice to have Mabel Binks to dinner withus?"

  Dum gasped and started to rush into the sitting room, without theformality of a kimono, but I grabbed her and with a warning fingerquieted her.

  "Oh, come now, Dee, I should think you and Dum would be content to spendyour last Sunday at home quietly with your poor old lonesome Zebedee. Ican't see what you want with Miss Binks. She is much older than you,Tweedles, and not a bit the kind of person I should encourage you tohave as an intimate. I get the names of your schoolmates mixed, butwasn't she the girl you wrote me was so purse-proud and unfeeling in hertreatment of that nice ladylike little girl from Price's Landing?"

  "Ye--s, but I thought you liked her pretty well last night."

  "Why, I never gave her a thought! She so plainly asked me to dance withher that I had to do it; but that was all. She is showily handsome andamusing enough in the daring way in which she talks, but nay, nay, notfor me!"

  More sounds of kissing, and then: "Now run on and all of you get dressedin a hurry so we can take a nice spin with Henry Ford and go to churchbefore Miss Page has to be delivered over to the Dragon."

  "What's that smell, Zebedee? The hall is reeking with a terrible odor,"asked Dee, sniffing suspiciously.

  "I can't imagine. I was afraid you and Dum and Miss Page had gone in formusk. The whole apartment is permeated with it." Dee went out into thelittle hall connecting the girls' bedroom with the living room and pokedaround the hatrack, where the odor seemed to be strongest.

  "Here it is," she cried, "in your overcoat pocket!"

  "Oh, that wretched girl's gloves! She asked me to hold them for her justbefore we left the club, and I must have put them in my pocket. Hang 'emoutside the bathroom window. That smell is enough to make all of usfaint. Please turn my pocket inside out, so it can air."

  "What did I tell you?" and Dee burst into the bedroom, waving thesmelly gloves as she came; "the minx made Zebedee keep her gloves justso she could get around here. We'd better dress in a hurry so we can beready to receive her. She might eat up poor Zebedee without his knowingwhat got him," and she scornfully hung the offensive kids out thebathroom window.

  Mabel Binks did come before Dum and I were quite dressed, but Dee wasinstalled in the living room waiting for her with Brindle at her sideready to sic on Mabel if she showed signs of walking off with thehandsome young father.

  "Oh, you naughty man, I am almost sure you purloined my gloves lastnight!" we heard her say, in her loud and strident tones. "I thought Iwould stop in on the way to church to get them."

  "Yes, he did hook them from you," said Dum, making her appearance like awhirlwind. "Zebedee is great on that. He steals girls' gloves all thetime and gives them to Dee and me. We never have to buy any. All thegirls get him to hold their gloves for them and then he brings them hometo us and we divide them up. Here yours are. Zebedee did not know whosethey were, but we recognized the perfume you are so fond of. They aretoo big for us, so we were not going to row over them." Mr. Tucker satdumfounded during this tirade of Dum's, and as for me, I had to diveback in the room from which I was emerging to get my countenancestraightened out.

  Dee buried her nose in Brindle's neck and made such a funny little noisetrying to keep back her laughter that Brindle growled and wrinkled uphis neck in a most ominous manner. Mabel took the gloves, and for onceher aplomb deserted her. She beat a hasty retreat with good-bys thatwere scarcely audible.

  I fully expected that Mr. Tucker would admonish Dum for the ridiculousfabrication of which she had been guilty, but he seemed to forget allabout the behavior befitting a parent, and caught us by the hand and ina moment we were dancing the Lobster Quadrille and singing lustily,"Will you, won't you, won't you, will you, will you join the dance?"

  "Now hurry up and get on your hats and jackets and we will speed littleHenry Ford to church." And off we went in a Christian frame of mind andat peace with the whole world, especially Dum, who had scored heavilyover the detested Mabel.

  The hour for dinner at Cousin Park's had at last come. How slowly Iwalked up the broad stone steps leading to her fine house! The samelugubrious butler opened the door that had performed that office when Ivisited Cousin Park on that other memorable occasion. He had the air ofone who is letting in the mourners. I involuntarily glanced at the doorbell to see if by any chance crepe could be hanging from it.

  This butler's appropriate name was Jeremiah, and he was what is known as"a blue-gum nigger." I smiled when I greeted him, and for a moment heshowed his blue gums in a vain attempt at cheerfulness, but he quicklysubsided into his habitual gloom. I recalled what Mammy Susan had saidto me many a time. "Be mighty keerful, honey; don' nebber cross ablue-gum nigger, fer de bite er one is rank pizen and sho death."

  Cousin Park was seated in state in her ugly, handsome, oiled-walnutparlor. The room was of noble proportions and might have been pretty,but Cousin Park had happened to marry the genial Major at the periodwhen oiled walnut was the prevailing style, and her whole life had beenbuilt on the oiled-walnut basis ever since. Her costly velvet carpetsstill came right to the edge of the floor and were snugly tacked closeto the baseboard. No hardwood floors and rugs
for her.

  The heavy furniture was deeply carved, and if the unwary visitor forgothimself for a moment and attempted to lounge in his chair he was quicklybrought to a sense of propriety by a carved pineapple getting himbetween his shoulders or maybe a bunch of grapes striking him in thesmall of his back. I usually tried to sit on the horsehair sofa. Longpractice in riding bareback had given me a poise that enabled me to bevery comfortable seated thus without sliding off. The pictures were hungclose up to the ceiling according to the style in vogue in times goneby. They were mostly dark portraits in heavy gilt frames and theyglared down at you as though they resented your intrusion into theirmausoleum.

  Father was seated forward in his chair, trying to avoid the pineapple,and on his face was an expression like that of a little boy who has beentaken to church and fears every minute to be questioned as to the text.I rather expected our stern relative to tell him to go wash his handsfor dinner. He jumped up and hugged me enthusiastically, and I feltashamed that I had hated so to come. Cousin Park gave me an upholsteredembrace and I made for the horsehair sofa, that seemed friendly andyielding in comparison with Cousin Park.

  "Well, so you have torn yourself away from those Tuckers long enough todo your duty, have you?" I scented a battle from afar, but determined tobe good and not say anything to make my cousin angry. No doubt she washungry and would be more agreeable as soon as dinner was announced.

  "It is kind of you to ask me to dinner, Cousin Park, and I am glad tocome," I meekly replied. And thinking maybe it would be tactful tochange the subject, I said to Father: "How do you feel after dancinglast night?"

  "Fine, daughter; I never had such a good time in my life."

  "Cousin James! You--dancing! You are surely jesting--you--you--a man ofyour age!"

  "Oh, I'm not so awfully old, Cousin Park! There were men on the floorten years older than I am--bank presidents, eminent surgeons, andseveral judges, all dancing the new dances with the utmost abandon."

  "Well, where on earth did you learn the new dances, Cousin James?"

  "Well, I never saw them danced before, so it must have been by acorrespondence course." And Father winked at me.

  The sepulchral butler came in to announce dinner just at this crucialmoment when his irate mistress looked as though she would burst hertight black satin basque in which she had been so compactly hooked. Hequavered in a sad voice: "Dinner is served," but his tone reminded me ofJeremiah, Chapter IX, first verse: "Oh, that my head were waters andmine eyes a fountain of tears that I might weep day and night!"

  Dum looked at me aghast. "Page, you here, andDee!"--_Page 271._]

  The dining room was one degree more cheerful than the parlor, as insteadof the portraits there were Audubon prints and the Marriage ofPocahontas. A heavy walnut sideboard laden with massive silver almostfilled one side of the room. The table was precisely set and the foodmay have been good, but everything was so ponderous, including thehostess, that when we got through with the long tiresome courses I feltlike the old wolf that Mammy Susan used to tell about. He swallowedseven little kids whole and then, while he slept by the water's edge,the Widow Goat came and ripped him open, took out the dear little kidsand put in their place seven huge stones. The old wolf was naturallythirsty after this surgical operation, and so was I when I had packed inand hammered down roast chicken, boiled hominy, mashed potatoes, bakedrice, macaroni and I don't know what besides, except that we topped offwith a plum pudding that was the last straw.

  I longed for sleep with an intensity that was truly painful, and I couldsee that poor dear Father was desperate. The conversation at the tablewas as heavy and starchy as the food. Father and I could not helpcomparing it to the gay little dinner we had enjoyed the night before atthe Country Club.

  Cousin Park's manner was always dictatorial, even when she was thevisitor instead of the hostess, and on that day she seemed to think shewas born to boss the Universe. She picked on me most of the time and Ilet her do it, knowing Father must have had his share of correction, butwhen she began on my friends, the darling Tuckers, I got a littlerestive. Mammy Susan always told me: "Don't sass old folks till dey fustsass you," and I began to feel that old folks were sassing meconsiderably. I smiled to myself, remembering that Mr. Tucker had toldme that when the Major died, at his funeral they sang "Peace, perfectpeace," and the pall bearers themselves could hardly keep from grinningto think what a far from peaceful time the poor Major had had on earth.

  Father came to my rescue when our masterful cousin finally sprung thismine on us: "I am astonished, Cousin James, that you should have no moresense of propriety than to let Page visit that Jeffry Tucker without achaperon."

  "Why, Cousin Park, you astonish me! Page is visiting Mr. Tucker'sdaughters, her schoolmates. They are all three very young to have aquestion of propriety brought up."

  "I don't care, a woman is never too young or too old to be made thesubject of gossip," and Cousin Park creaked ominously.

  "Well, that being the case, I think it is highly improper and imprudentfor me to be visiting you, unless we can look upon Jeremiah as achaperon."

  And Cousin Park, knowing herself to be worsted, sighed a great, heavingsigh and looked sadly at the Major's portrait, as though if he had beenalive he would have protected her.

  How glad we were to hear the toot of Henry Ford and to know that ourtime in purgatory was over. The fresh air took away that awfuldrowsiness, and the cheerful talk of the Tuckers as we spun out intothe country made us forget the deadly conversation we had been forced tobe a party to. Father had an engagement for supper with a medicalbrother, and he was to go back to Bracken the next day.

  "Blood may be thicker than water," he said. "In fact, to-day it was sothick you couldn't stir it, but never again do I intend to make a visitat Cousin Park Garnett's. Why, I feel as though that blue-gum nigger hadbitten me."