CHAPTER IV
"George Washington! G-e-o-r-g-e W-a-s-h-i-n-g-t-o-n!"
"Ma'am?"
"Why don't you answer the first time I call you? Come here and go huntthe Colonel and tell him I want him directly. He is around the housesomewhere."
George Washington, aged ten, his woolly head full of sticks, hisblue-jeans sadly perforated and the lower portion of his ebony limbsguiltless of covering, came out from behind the kitchen quarters andshambled off in search of his master.
"That boy shows old Rachel's blood," soliloquized the mistress ofWavertree Hall; "he would not run if there were a bomb under him!"
It was one of those balmy days in Virginia, when the sly, deceptiveOctober sun kisses one into the belief that summer will remain always.Mrs. Driscoe sat down on the back steps of the verandah and watched twococks fighting in the yard, as she awaited the appearance of herhusband. She looked, herself, not unlike a bird of ruffled plumage, forthe bit of lace and pink ribbon with which she ornamented her scantylocks was awry, while her crocheted shawl--pink to match theribbon--hung off one shoulder, and her whole aspect presented adisheveled appearance which in her indicated a perturbed state of mind.Now and then she glanced at an open letter in her hand, the contents ofwhich seemed to displease her, for she shook the paper as if it were alive thing she were chastising and tapped her foot impatiently.
Presently a voice behind her said mildly: "Did you want me, my dear?"
"Want you? Certainly I wanted you! What do you suppose I sent for youfor if I didn't want you?" Mrs. Driscoe drew up her pink shawl with agesture that spoke volumes.
"Won't you get a headache, Nancy, sitting out there in the sun?" askedthe Colonel solicitously.
Concern for her physical welfare touched his wife's vanity and appealedto her heart. She softened perceptibly.
"Maybe I had better come up and sit in a chair," she said. "It's thosegirls that have upset me. I believe they're clean daft."
He helped her up and pulled a chair into a shady part of the verandah,waiting until she was comfortably ensconced before seating himself.
He was a gallant, the Colonel, full of little courtesies which endearedhim to the hearts of women. That was why the Widow Chisholme marriedhim, the County said. She wanted--but does it matter after all theseyears what the County said?
He sat down now beside her and waited for her to begin. She usually didbegin and end everything.
"The girls refuse to come--I've just had a letter from Julie; she is themost independent, ungrateful young minx I ever heard of!"
"Oh--ah--not that, Nancy, not that, I am sure--ahem--you must bemistaken. She impressed me as a very gentle, sweet young creature."
"Gentle fiddlesticks! Do you call that gentle?" flaunting the letter inhis face.
"Possibly, my dear, if I were to know the contents of the letter I mightbe better able to form an opinion."
She handed it over and watched him read it.
"Ah," he commented at the end, "what remarkably original girls!"
"Give that letter to me, Driscoe," (she had always called him Driscoefrom the beginning) "I don't believe you half understand it--you arealways way off in the clouds somewhere when you haven't got your noseburied in a book. Those girls are going to work--to cook! They actuallyprefer to cook for a living when they might come down here and live likeladies the rest of their lives. They have moved into rooms their Doctorfound for them--I expect it is one of those nasty little places theycall flats, in some horrid neighborhood and I am sure no one will gonear them and they'll die of loneliness with their crazy notions.""Cook!" she repeated scornfully, "who ever heard of a lady doing aservant's work!" The little pink bow on the top of her head fairlyquivered in outraged sympathy.
"I am sure the girls appreciate your offer to give them a home," ColonelDriscoe said when he was allowed to speak, "Julie's letter speaks veryfeelingly about it. If they think it wise to try and be independent Imust say I can't help but admire their spirit."
"That is all you know about it! In my day girls did not do odd,independent things--they did as they were told!"
It occurred to the Colonel that her day was past, but he wiselyrefrained from giving the thought utterance.
"A lot of your foolish Northern notions still cling to you Driscoe," shesaid resentfully. "It is my opinion that those Dale girls have disgracedthe family--there is too much of their father in them--a true Fairleighwould never stoop to menial labor; and yet their mother and I had thesame Fairleigh grandmother. Oh, it is too trying--their behavior--tootrying for anything! It terrifies me to think what they may come to!"She stopped rocking in her chair and sniffed audibly.
"There, there, Nancy, don't take it so to heart," comforted her husband,"it may be best as it is--we'll see if we can't raise a little moneysomewhere to send them--the poor young things must be in sore straitsthese days with poverty to face and an invalid father to take care of."
"Umph! they don't act like it--and as for money, I don't see it lyinground loose on the plantation."
This was a sore point with the Colonel, who was known since his marriageto have swallowed up a considerable portion of his small incomepatenting farming implements that were impracticable. He had been abachelor with an inventive turn of mind and only one lung when he metthe Widow Chisholme at the Springs. Upon marrying her it seemed mostdesirable for her convenience (for she would never have tolerated lifeoutside of Virginia) and his health, that they should live on theChisholme property, which was somewhat extensive and kept them landpoor. Mr. Driscoe, New Hampshire born and bred, settled down into acountry gentleman and turned his attention to agriculture; but his mind,half inventive, half scholarly, wholly visionary, had made rather asorry mess of it, and his wife, who had never relinquished the reins ofgovernment, now held them with a firmer hand. He was Colonel only bycourtesy, the servants having dubbed him that immediately. It wasimpossible for them to recognize a real gentleman without a title.
He said no more about money, but shaded his eyes and looked down thelong avenue leading out to the road. In the distance he could see asmall darky open a gate, while down the road came a horse with a swiftgallop.
"Here comes Nannie, my dear. She will not be pleased with your news,will she?" the Colonel said regretfully.
The girl brought the horse up with a sharp turn at the steps, therebycausing consternation to a brood of chickens, which scattered in everydirection. Then she threw the bridle to George Washington and slipped tothe ground.
"My," she exclaimed, fanning herself with her hat, "it is pretty warmriding."
"Now don't sit down there and take cold," expostulated her mother;"here, put my shawl around you."
Nannie, who had dropped down on the steps, laughed and shook her head."A shawl in October! who ever heard of such a thing. I am all right,mummie; don't take it off--it looks so pretty on you." She smiled at hermother, who was not proof against this bit of flattery, though her onlymanifestation was a closer drawing of the shawl around her shoulders."Don't you feel very well, mummie?" the girl asked, conscious that theatmosphere was not altogether salubrious.
"Well enough," replied the older woman, flipping a letter nervouslybetween her fingers as she rocked to and fro.
"Your mother has heard from your cousin Julie," volunteered the Colonel.
"Let me see the letter, quick, mummie. When are they coming?"
"They are not coming at all," replied Mrs. Driscoe, with a resentfultoss of her head, meanwhile thrusting the obnoxious letter into herpocket.
Nan's face fell. "Oh, mummie, can't I see the letter, please?"
"Certainly not. It is full of crazy ideas that are most unbecoming in ayoung girl, and I don't consider such things proper for you to read."
Colonel Driscoe gave an apologetic cough and opened his lips as if tospeak, but apparently thought better of it and studied his finger nailswith unwonted interest. Nan drew cabalistic signs on the steps with herriding crop, and for some moments the silence was unbroken save for
thehalf chuckling singing of George Washington, who was turning somersaultsnear by. Then Nannie said wistfully:
"May I know why the girls are not coming, please?"
The Colonel started to explain, but was overruled by his wife, whopreferred to give her own interpretation of the case. Accordingly shepoured out a torrent of abuse, in which her own individual woes overwhat she called their "disobedience" were so involved with a mixedstatement of facts that Nan might have been led to believe that hercousins were lost to all sense of propriety had she not thoroughlyunderstood her mother. As it was she listened quietly, sympathized withand petted her, and told her not to bother her head any more about twonaughty girls in the North. She was a girl of considerable tact, thisNannie, for all that the whole establishment "babied" her, and she knewjust how to smooth down her mother's ruffled plumage; so that Mrs.Driscoe, after a good, comfortable cry, which was a great relief to heroverwrought feelings, was persuaded to go indoors and lie down torecover from the shock of the morning.
Nannie remained on the verandah with her father. "Will _you_ tell meabout it now?" she said, when her mother was well out of hearing.
The Colonel's version, as he understood it from Julie's letter wasexpressed in five minutes.
"Oh, dear!" Nannie exclaimed, when he had finished, "I wish they did notfeel that way about things. I did so hope they were going to bring theirfather here and let us nurse him, and live with us, and be just like myown sisters--I've always wanted a sister so! I can't seem to make it outexactly, pa, how girls like that who have always had every mortal thingon earth, can work just like poor girls."
"No, you can't understand, kitten," stroking her head affectionately;"it's against all the traditions of your bringing up that you should,for your mother takes such extreme views. But for my part, I think theyare very noble and deserve tremendous credit for taking the stand theyhave."
"Oh! so do I," echoed the girl enthusiastically. "I just love them forit. I think it is grand to be so heroic and brave. Why, just think, pa,they are not very much older than I, and yet all of a sudden it seems asif they were women and I only a baby."
"We want to keep our little girl a while yet," he said. "I have no fearbut she will be womanly enough when the time comes."
"We did have the loveliest times when the girls were here, didn't we?"she said reminiscently. "They could ride as well as any girl in thecounty, and Julie was the prettiest thing I ever saw. Do you rememberthe funny tricks Hester did--springing on a horse bareback, and ridingbackward, and things she'd learned from the cowboys? Oh! I did miss themterribly when they went away."
"They were unusually companionable to us all, I think, Nannie. I am sureI missed them unspeakably."
The girl sat down on the arm of his chair and as she leaned her headagainst his, two tears trickled down the end of her nose and into hisneck. He put his arms about her and drew her into his lap, where shelay, a dejected little heap, sobbing bitterly.
"There, there, kitten, don't cry; Mr. Dale may get better, and the girlsmay be able to bring him down for a long visit some time--who knows?"said the kindly Colonel, who was already planning in his mind how hecould defray the expenses, should such a journey be possible. "We willall have some happy times together again, Nannie; you'll see, littlegirl."
THE GIRL SAT DOWN ON THE ARM OF HIS CHAIR]
Nan heaved a sigh and was comforted. It is easy to be sanguine atseventeen.
Suddenly she exclaimed: "Do you know what?" sitting up and revealing atear-stained face and two brimming brown eyes which she rubbed with theColonel's handkerchief, her own having long since been reduced to a damplittle ball; "I'm going to write to the girls not to mind a thing mummiewrites them, for she really loves them just the same, and you and I lovethem heaps more--if such a thing is possible--and think about them andjust hope with all our might and main that Cousin Dale will be better,and they won't have to work themselves to death. Oh, don't I just wish Icould help them!" "Pa!" she cried in a sudden inspiration, "you know thenew saddle you were going to give me for my birthday?"
"Yes, Nannie."
"Well, you have not bought it, have you? and I don't want it--I want youto send the money to the girls instead."
"But, Nannie, child, you have talked of that saddle for months. Are yousure you want to do this?"
"Oh! yes," she cried, rapturously with a childish clap of her hands;"I'd love to do it more than anything. Can you see about it to-day?" Hersoft brown eyes were not brimming now, but full of eagerness.
"I am almost afraid," said the Colonel, shaking his head, "that yourmother will not consent and that the girls might refuse to let you do itif they knew."
"Oh, they must not know," said Nannie with an air of importance borne ofthe project in hand. "No one must know, not even mummie; it is a secretbetween you and me. We will send an anonymous letter the way they do inbooks. Oh! won't it be fun?"
"Who ever would have suspected we had an arch-conspirator in our midst,"said the Colonel slyly, "and that she would victimize an old man likeme?" In his heart he was rejoicing over her pretty exhibition of girlishlove and unselfishness. Then more seriously, he added: "I am afraid weshall have to wait until your birthday really comes round, Puss. I havenot the money just now."
"But you are going to let me do it, aren't you? No matter if we do haveto wait, come and begin the letter now. We must make it very mysterious,and manage to get it to them somehow so they will never suspect. How doyou suppose we can?" She looked at him, confident that he would suggestsomething.
And he did. But what he said was whispered so low that even we cannothear. The effect on her was instantaneous, and caused her to dance aboutdelightedly. Then suddenly remembering that her mother was sleeping inan adjacent room, she became subdued and catching her father by the armdrew him quietly into the house.
Those Dale Girls Page 4