CHAPTER IV
BETTY'S NOVEL
IT was Gay's voice over the telephone. "Oh Lloyd, _can't_ you come? Doarrange it some way. Lucy is frightened stiff at the thought of beingleft here alone all night with just me. And she thought it would be sucha good time for Betty to read us her novel, as she promised, before shesends it away to the publishers. There'll be no callers to interrupt uson such a rainy day."
"Hold the phone a minute," answered Lloyd. "I'll see. It's Gay," sheexplained to her mother who had come out into the hall at the firsttinkle of the bell, thinking the summons might be for her.
"Mistah Harcourt and his brothah went to Lexington this mawning to buythose hawses, and Gay and Lucy are afraid to stay there tonight. Thecook had promised to sleep at the house, but something turned up at herhome a little while ago to prevent. So they want Kitty and Betty and meto come ovah right away and spend the aftahnoon and night. It's rainingcataracts and I know you don't like to take the new carriage out in suchweathah, but couldn't Alec put the curtains on the old one?"
Mrs. Sherman glanced dubiously towards the windows, against which therain was beating in torrents.
"And leave me all alone, when I've been looking forward to this samegood, rainy afternoon with you," almost slipped from Mrs. Sherman'stongue. But the eager desire shining in the faces of both girls keptback the words.
"It's only a warm summer rain," interposed Betty, seeing her hesitate.
"Very well, then," consented Mrs. Sherman with a smile, but as she wentback to her room she stifled a little sigh of disappointment. "I supposeit's only natural they should want to be going," she thought. "But if itwasn't so selfish I could almost wish that Gay hadn't come to the Valleyfor the summer. She will take Lloyd away from home so often, and I havelooked forward so long to the companion she would be when her schooldays were ended."
Wholly unconscious of her mother's disappointment Lloyd was answeringmerrily, "We'll be ovah right away! Ring up Kitty again, and tell herwe'll drive by for her."
An hour later the five girls (for the bride of a year seemed theyoungest of them all at times) were seated in an upstairs room at theLindsey Cabin, each in a comfortable rocking chair. Lucy had taken themto her room saying it was cozier up near the roof where they could hearthe rain patter on the shingles. Also her dormer windows faced the West,and they would have daylight longer there.
It took a little while for them to get settled for the reading. Lucybrought out the family darning with a matronly air, when she saw thatLloyd had brought a square of linen to start a piece of drawn-work, andKitty had some napkins to hem. Mrs. Walton had turned over themanagement of the house to Kitty only that day (Allison had had it theyear before) and with house-wifely zeal she had begun with anexploration of the linen closet where she had found a pile of unhemmedlinen.
Not wanting to be idle while all the rest were occupied, Gay kept themwaiting while she burrowed through her trunk for an intricate piece ofknitting work which she had begun two years before. It had beenintended for a Christmas present, and she had brought it with herintending to finish it before another Christmas or perish in theattempt. "Don't pay any attention to me," she warned. "There'll beplaces where I have to stop and count stitches and fairly wrestle withit, but I'll be listening in spite of my bodily contortions."
They were all ready at last, so Betty picked up the first chapter andcleared her throat. She had been anxious to read her novel to the girls,she had been so sure of its merit. But now as she glanced down the pageshe was assailed by misgivings. After all she might not have been animpartial judge, and maybe it wasn't as good as it seemed to her.
"You'll recognize some of the incidents," she explained, "and onecharacter is a composite portrait of three Lloydsboro people. He lookslike Mr. Jaynes, stutters like Captain Bedel and has experiences thatonce happened to Doctor Shelby. I've put Miss Marietta Waring's romanceinto it too."
Betty read well. She loved the characters she had fashioned, and withher sympathetic voice to interpret them, they became almost as real toher listeners as they were to herself. Presently the girls began toexchange approving nods. She watched them from the corner of her eye.Now and then there were low murmurs of approbation at some particularlypleasing incident or turn of expression, and at the end of the firstchapter there was outspoken applause. They complimented enthusiasticallywhile Betty rested and took breath for the next.
As she felt the genuine pleasure she was affording them, all her fearsas to its short-comings fled. She began to see that her story was evenbetter than she had thought it. She saw it in better perspective throughtheir eyes. Its plot moved so smoothly. There was more life, more _go_in it than she had been conscious of in her solitary readings. It wascertainly worth all the painstaking effort it had cost her. She couldlook at it now and no longer humbly, but confidently call it good.
When in one scene she stole a furtive glance around to note the effect,and caught Lucy stealthily slipping out her handkerchief, Gay looking upwith tears on her lashes and Lloyd with the peculiar tightening of thelips that showed she was trying to swallow the lump in her throat, shewas so happy she could have sung for joy. She read on and on, and theyforgot the rain beating against the windows, forgot everything buttheir interest in the story.
Lucy pushed her darning basket aside and leaned back in her chair, herhands clasped behind her head. The work over which Lloyd had beenbending, dropped in her lap and her little gold thimble rolled away intoa corner unheeded. There was a personal interest in the story for eachof them. Lloyd saw herself as plainly in Betty's heroine as she couldsee her reflection in the mirror door of the huge mahogany wardrobeopposite her. Some of Kitty's ridiculous speeches that had becomehistorical in her family, found a place here and there, and once Lucylaughed outright, exclaiming, "Why that's just like Gay! You must havebeen thinking of her when you wrote it."
The reading went on without interruption until it was so dark that Bettyhad to hold her manuscript close to the window. "I'll ring for lights,"thought Lucy, "just as soon as she comes to the end of this chapter."But with the end of the chapter came Ca'line Allison with a message fromthe kitchen. Lucy started up in dismay.
"There! I forgot all about that salad. How could I be so careless whenI'm to have a real live authoress to dinner? I was so interested Ihadn't a thought for anything but the story."
"Such appreciation is a thousand times better than salad," laughedBetty, so jubilant over her triumph that her eyes were full of a happylight. "This is a good place to stop until after dinner. I've read untilmy throat is tired."
Lucy hurried down stairs to hasten the dinner preparations, in orderthat they might get back to the reading as soon as possible. The fourgirls folded their work, and sat in the twilight, talking.
"What does this make you think of?" asked Lloyd.
"I know what's in your mind," answered Kitty. "I was just about to speakof it myself; that rainy day at Boarding School, when Ida Shane read'The Fortune of Daisy Dale' to us, behind locked doors. Wasn't itthrilling?"
Gay who had heard the incident mentioned many times at Warwick Hall,said plaintively, "You girls always make me feel that I have missed halfmy life, because I wasn't with you when Ida Shane read that story. I'dcertainly like to get my hands on such a wonderful piece of literature."
"But it wasn't wonderful," Betty hastened to explain. "It made that deepimpression on us simply because it was the first novel we had everread. It was sentimental and melodramatic and trashy as we've sincediscovered, but then it seemed all that was lovely and romantic. It gaveus thrills up and down our spines and sent us around with our heads inthe clouds for days. We were seeing embryo Guy Wolverings in every boywe met. As I listened to Ida I thought that if I could only write a bookthat would hold my listeners spellbound as that held us, I'd ask no moreof life. I could die happy."
"Well, you've done it, dear," said Gay warmly. "We scarcely breathedduring the last two chapters, and I'm so eager to know how it ends thatI'd willingly cut dinne
r to go on with it."
"Now how does that make you feel, Miss Elizabeth Lloyd Lewis?" askedKitty teasingly. "Fair uplifted, I've nae doot."
"Yes, it does," was the honest answer. "It's what I've hoped for andworked for and prayed for these last ten years. Can you wonder that itmakes me radiantly happy to have you girls think that I have in ameasure succeeded?"
Dinner was announced a little later, and when the girls went into thedining-room, they found Lucy herself bringing it in.
"Poor Sylvia had another message from home," she explained, "so I toldher and Ca'line Allison to go on; that we'd wait on ourselves and clearthe table, and they could wash the dishes in the morning. It's notraining quite so hard now, but it is dark as a pocket outside."
As she placed the soup tureen on the table, they heard the outer kitchendoor close, and Sylvia turn the key in the lock.
"Ugh!" exclaimed Lucy with a shiver. "Now we're abandoned to our fate! Iwish you'd pull that window-shade farther down, Gay. There's just roomfor somebody to peep under it, and there's nothing more terrifying to methan the thought of eyes peering in at one from the outer darkness."
"'The gobelins will git you if you don't watch out,'" sang Gay. "Do forpity's sake put your mind on something else, Lucy, and don't spoil thisfestive occasion with a case of high jinks!"
Seeing that their little hostess was really nervous and timid, Kittybegan to divert them all by impersonating different characters in theValley. She was a fine mimic, and kept them laughing all through thefirst course. Lucy carried out the plates, and hurried back with thesecond course.
"You've got to get the salad when the time comes," she said to Gay."It's so spooky out there in the kitchen with Sylvia gone, that I wasafraid to look over my shoulder. Queer, isn't it! For it's just as warmand well-lighted and cheerful now as when she was there. I wouldn't gointo the pantry alone for a fortune."
"Nonsense!" cried Kitty. "Five valiant females are enough to keep anyLloydsboro foe at bay. We'll be your brave defenders."
Gay, who had risen to circle around the table with a plate of hotbiscuit, paused dramatically beside Lucy's chair to say in a stagewhisper, "Hist! I have a weapon of defence ye wot not of. One that adoughty knight did leave behind him."
"Oh," said the literal Lucy. "I suppose you mean Mr. Shelby'sboxing-glove that he left on the piano, when he came in yesterday tobring you those books. It was awfully funny, girls, the way he _seemed_to leave it by accident. I couldn't help laughing, for it was so evidenthe did it on purpose, to have an excuse to come again sooner than hewould have done otherwise."
Gay smiled knowingly. It was not a boxing-glove she meant, but forreasons of her own she did not enlighten Lucy as to the kind of weaponshe had in reserve. It was after eight when they rose from the table,and they made such a frolic of carrying out the dishes, that thegrandfather clock on the stairs chimed the half-hour as they finished.
Before Ca'line Allison left she had started a cheerful blaze in thefireplace of the huge living room, for the night was chilly as well asdamp. But Lucy partly covered it with ashes, and proposed spending theevening up-stairs.
"Somehow one feels so much safer up-stairs when there are no men in thehouse," she explained. "We'll light two big lamps, and that will make itas warm and cosy as if we had a fire."
So in a body they made the rounds of the down-stairs rooms, boltingwindows and locking doors. Then satisfied that every entrance wassecurely fastened, they went up-stairs to resume the reading. This timethere was no attempt to do any needlework. With folded hands they waitedin expectant silence, while Betty found her place. But just as sheraised the sheet of paper, the great door of the mahogany wardrobe swungslowly and stealthily open. Not a sound did it make, and there wassomething so ghostly in its silent undoing that Lucy gave a littleshriek and hid her face in her hands. Each one of them acknowledged toa queer chilly sensation just for an instant, even Gay, who explainedthat it was only a little habit that the wardrobe had. "I don't mind itin the day-time," she added, "but it _is_ spooky at night wheneverything is still to have it unexpectedly pop open, and swing out withthat slow gliding motion."
"It's because the latch is worn and the catch works loose," saidmatter-of-fact Kitty, who had crossed the room to examine it. She turnedthe key. "Now it will not interrupt us for awhile. Go on with the story,Betty."
Again the manuscript was raised and again Lucy stopped her with thewail, "Oh, Gay! We've forgotten to bring up the silver pitcher andJameson's ladle. I put them on the dining-room table after I'd washedthem, and then marched off and forgot them."
"Well, I'll go down for them," volunteered Gay. "There's no use in yourdoing it and getting another fit of shivers."
The other three sprang up, but Gay waved Betty back.
"Save your breath for the reading. Kitty and Lloyd will be enough. Idon't mind acknowledging that I'll be glad to have both a rear and avanguard going through that dark hall."
Lighting a candle and holding it high above her head, Lloyd led the waydown-stairs. Gay was inwardly quaking, for she was almost as timid asher sister, but the fearlessness of her two companions made her keep upa pretence of bravery. As the three pairs of little heels clattered downthe dark polished steps, Lloyd and Kitty kept time in a singsong chant:
"There was a man and he had naught And robbers came to rob him. He got up on the chimney top And then they thought they had him. But he got down on the other side And then they couldn't find him He went _fourteen miles in fifteen days_ And never looked behind him."
It was almost cruel of Kitty to seize that opportunity to tell thescariest burglar tale that she had ever heard, but a fine appreciationof dramatic situations urged her to it.
"Ugh! Don't!" begged Gay, as they filed into the dining-room and beganlooking around for the silver heirlooms. Lucy was mistaken. It was thekitchen table on which she had left them.
"The goose-flesh is standing out all over me! That's the most gruesometale I ever heard."
"But I'm in the most interesting part," insisted Kitty. "When she sawthe black face leering over the transom--"
"Hush!" chattered Gay. "I won't listen to another word. It's so creepy Ican feel things grabbing at my ankles. Let me have the candle a minute,please, Lloyd, I want to get something out of the hat-rack drawer."
There was a faint glow on the hearth from the few embers Lucy had leftuncovered, and the two stood within it as they waited for Gay to comeback with the candle. Kitty went on with her tale, for Lloyd was asfearless as herself. She did not get further than a sentence or two,however, before Gay came hurrying back. To their astonishment she blewout the candle as she reached them, and in the brief glimpse they had ofher face they saw that it was ghastly white. In the dim glow of theembers they were scarcely visible to each other. She clutched them withtrembling fingers.
"There's some one prowling around the house!" she whispered. "Some onewas creeping around under the windows, and then up on the porch. Iheard them plain as day. I blew out the light so they couldn't see in!"
"Pooh!" began Lloyd, but enough of Gay's excitement had beencommunicated to both her listeners to make their hearts thump a littlefaster, when they, too, heard a noise at the window. There certainlywere steps on the porch. Then the knocker on the front door was liftedand a hollow clang echoed through the hall.
"Burglars don't knock," said Lloyd with a sigh of relief. "Let's all goto the doah togethah and ask who's there. We needn't open it."
"No, don't!" begged Gay, almost in tears. "It's just like that awfulstory Kitty started to tell--the knock at the door, the lone woman'svoice answering, and the burglar forcing his way over the transom! Ouronly safety is in keeping perfectly still. If worst comes to worst,_then_ I'll make them think there's a man in the house, but I won't doit till I'm driven to it."
"If it's one of the neighbours he'll knock again," said Kitty.
For a moment they waited, their hearts in their mouths, as theyremembered what a lonely place was thi
s dark beech woods, and how nearit was to Stumptown, with its many drunken negroes. The knock was notrepeated, but the steps sounded as if the intruder were prowling backand forth on the porch. Then the slats of the window-shutters turnedstealthily.
"Thank heaven the shades are down!" chattered Gay hysterically. "Oh,girls, I'm growing gray-headed. I can't stand this suspense anothersecond." Then as the steps once more crossed the porch, "Cut up-stairs!Quick! Both of you! I'll follow."
She darted out of the dim circle of light on the hearth, and they couldnot see what happened, but almost instantly a pistol shot rang out. Uptill that moment neither Kitty nor Lloyd had been much alarmed. Now theyclutched each other wildly.
"It's some crazy man escaped from the Lakeland asylum," began Kitty, buther words were cut short by another shot, then another and another andanother, in such rapid succession that they lost count. A series ofpiercing screams from Lucy, up-stairs, made their blood run cold, butthe shrieks were not half as terrifying as the sight of Gay staggeringback out of the hall. As they sprang towards her she leaned against themlimply.
"Is she shot?" gasped Kitty in a horrified whisper. "Oh, _where's_ thelight?"
With shaking hands Lloyd caught up the daily paper, left lying on thesettle, and threw it on the coals. It blazed up instantly, and by itslight she found the candle.
The shrieks were still going on up-stairs and Betty was calling outfrantically to know what was the matter. She could not come down to seefor herself, for Lucy had caught her in a hysterical grasp and washolding her like a vise. As the candle flared up something fell fromGay's nerveless hand to the floor. The girls looked at each other inblank astonishment. It was a revolver. Gay herself had fired the shots.
Now in the midst of their bewilderment they became conscious of shoutsoutside. Some one was calling: "Mrs. Harcourt! Miss Melville! Don't bealarmed! It's only Alex Shelby!"
Recognizing the voice, Lloyd flew to open the door, candle in hand.
"Oh, you gave us such a scare!" she began in a tone of relief. "Wethought it was a burglar doing the shooting. We nevah dreamed that _Gay_had a revolvah."
"It was mine," explained Alex, laughing so that he could hardly closehis umbrella. "I loaded it for her and loaned it to her yesterday, but Ihad no idea it would come back at me in that boomerang fashion. Shepopped loose and shot at me bang through the front door. The first shotwhistled just over my head, and if I hadn't dodged behind a post Isurely would have stopped them all. Hottest welcome I ever had."
Then as he came on in, he continued, apologetically, "I'm mighty sorry Igave you all such a fright. I ought to have gone away without knockingwhen I saw there was no light down-stairs, but I knew you were all here,and it was so early, I never dreamed of being taken for a burglar."
He kept on with his apologies after he came into the hall, but Gay wasnot there to hear. Mortified that she had been so rash, and horrified bythe thought of how serious the consequences of her wild shooting mighthave been, she could not face him. At the first sound of his voice sheran for the stairs, her wild dash almost upsetting Lucy and Betty ontheir way down. When repeated callings failed to bring her back, Kittywent up to look for her and found her in a woebegone heap on the foot ofher bed.
"Oh, you mustn't take it to heart that way," she said soothingly, inresponse to Gay's tearful protests that she could never look him in theface again, never, _never_! That he'd always think what a fool she wasand how near she came to killing him.
"Nonsense!" was Kitty's brisk answer. "He insists that it is all his ownfault, that he ought to have known what to expect when he called on anative Texan. He says he's always heard that they punctuate theirremarks with bullets and will shoot at the drop of a hat. Hereafter hewill herald his approach by telephone or else come in a coat of mailwarranted to turn even the fire of a Gatling gun. He's making a joke ofit, and it's silly of you not to do the same. Get up this minute andcome down-stairs, and make him have such a good time that he'll gladlyrisk another shooting to come again."
"HE WAS BENDING ANXIOUSLY OVER A BUBBLING SAUCEPAN."]
It was a long time before Gay could screw her courage to the point offollowing Kitty meekly down-stairs, and in the meantime Lucy took aneffective way to make him forget his inhospitable reception. Her chafingdish was her panacea for many ills. She had tried it at the Post toomany times with the different boys who flocked there, not to know itsfull value. So when Gay came into the room she found Alex alreadybeing initiated into the mysteries of candy-making. With a white aprontied around his waist, and a big spoon in his hand, he was bendinganxiously over a bubbling sauce-pan.
Heretofore his calls at the Cabin had been of the most formal kind; butthis little escapade was doing more to further their acquaintance andput him on the same privileged footing that the boys at the Postenjoyed, than dozens of casual meetings could have done. It was a novelexperience to Alex, and he made the most of it, exerting himself to beentertaining, in hopes of having the occasion repeated.
After the first painful moment of greeting and apology, Gay subsidedinto a corner of the old settle, but she did not stay there long. It wasimpossible to resist the infection of Alex's high spirits. When thereaction began it swung her to the farthest extreme, into anirresistible gale of merriment.
Betty's thoughts turned regretfully to the manuscript up-stairs. She wassorry that the reading had been interrupted. She knew the girls wouldhave gained a better impression of the book if they could have heard itwithout this interruption. There was no telling when there would be anopportunity to finish it as good as this would have been. Once she hada hope that Alex would not stay long and that there would still be timeto finish the reading after his departure. But while the candy cooledGay started Lloyd and Alex to singing duets, she and Kitty accompanyingthem with violin and piano, and she knew that it was useless to hope anylonger. So she settled down to enjoy the sweets and the music asheartily as the rest of them.
In one of the pauses, while they were searching through a pile of songsfor some duet they wanted, Lloyd crossed over to the settle where Lucywas sitting beside the candy, and helped herself to a piece.
"I'm sorry Leland is missing this," said Lucy. "It was a time like thisthat gave him his nickname of 'Brer Tarrypin.' He used to be devoted tocandy-pulls, and came up to the Post every time he thought we were goingto have one; and he always was like Brer Tarrypin, you know, in theUncle Remus stories."
"How is that?" inquired Lloyd, keenly interested. She knew the UncleRemus stories by heart and wondered in what way this one had beenapplied to the elegant and fastidious Mr. Harcourt.
"Why, you know, Brer B'ar he helped Miss Meadows bring the wood, BrerFox he mend the fire, Brer Wolf he kept the dogs off, Brer Rabbit hegreased the bottoms of the plates to keep the candy from sticking, but'Brer Tarrypin he klum up in a cheer an' say he watch an' see dat de'lasses didn't bile over.' The boys always used to say that the onlypart in the game Leland would take was _watching the lasses_. He'd talkto their girls while they did the work."
Gay, over at the piano, drew her brows together in a little frown. Shewished that Lucy would be more discreet in her reminiscences, for shefelt that Lloyd was already prejudiced against Leland more than wasdesirable. She called out suddenly, "Sister, can't you find that duetfor us? You had it last."
Lucy rose obediently, but lingered a moment to add, as Lloyd laughed,"Leland doesn't mind it a bit. The boys all got to hailing him in UncleRemus fashion, 'Heyo, Brer Tarrypin, wha'r you bin dis long-come-short?'and he'd answer as a matter of course, 'Lounjun roun', Brer Fox, lounjunroun'."
"It's mighty interesting to know the history of a nickname," observedLloyd, with an amused smile, which Gay interpreted as meaning that thisbit of history was being tucked away for future use.
It was late when Alex went home, taking his revolver with him. He wouldbe staying all night near by, with a friend of his, he told them, and ifanything else frightened them they were to telephone. He'd comepost-haste to their rescue. Then he made
the rounds of all thedown-stairs windows and doors, seeing that each was properly fastened,and started Lucy on her way up-stairs with the silver pitcher and ladlesafe in her hands. He seemed to leave the sense of his strong protectingpresence behind him. As they bolted the door and heard him go whistlingcheerily down the road, Lucy declared enthusiastically: "He's a nice boyand he's made us have such a jolly evening that I'm all wound up anddon't feel a bit sleepy. Let's make a night of it and hear the rest ofBetty's story. It doesn't make any difference if it is nearly midnight.We can sleep as late as we please in the morning, for Jameson isn'there, and we won't have to consider his convenience."
For once they were of the same mind, all loath to go to bed. So Bettyslipped into a borrowed kimona, shook down her hair and settled herselfcomfortably in a cushioned chair beside the lamp.
"If they keep awake to the end," she thought, "that will be a good test.I'll know then that it has real interest and I'll not be afraid to giveit to the public." So she kept an anxious watch out of the corner of hereye, intending to stop at the first sign of weariness. But the attentionof her audience was as profound as it had been during the afternoon.Stifling an occasional yawn herself, she read on and on. It washalf-past two when she laid aside the last page of her manuscript andlooked up timidly to receive the verdict. Lloyd spoke first.
"Betty Lewis, it's perfectly splendid! I'm so proud of you--I've alwaysbeen suah you'd make a name for yoahself some day, but I nevah dreamedyou'd do it so early in life, at only twenty!"
"I haven't made it yet, you know," Betty reminded her smiling. "Myfriends may be willing to 'pass my imperfections by,' but I've still torun the gauntlet of the critics."
There was a chorus of protests from the other girls, and Betty's heartgrew warm as she listened to their cordial praise and predictions ofsuccess.
"I'm dying to have a finger in the launching of this little bark," saidGay. "Let's wrap it up tonight and have it all ready to send off in themorning. It would be so fine to be able to brag to my grandchildrenthat _I_ helped. I have a strong flat box just the size of themanuscript. I'm sure it will fit it exactly. Wait and I'll go and getit."
She ran out of the room, and, while she rummaged through a trunk to findit, Lucy climbed up on a chair to look on the wardrobe shelf for someheavy wrapping-paper which she had folded away.
"Let me have some part in it too," cried Kitty. "Although I've no ideawhat it can be when I'm so far from the source of supplies. Oh, I knownow," she said after an instant's thought. "You'll need a string to tiearound the box. Here's something that will do."
Opening the wicker satchel she had brought with her she took out adainty nightgown. It was the work of only a moment to slip out thefresh, new pink ribbons that had been run through the lace beading.
"Now let me tie it!" she insisted. "See what an artistic bow I canmake!"
When the manuscript had been placed in Gay's box, tied with Kitty'sribbon and wrapped in Lucy's paper, it was gravely handed over to Lloyd,who had suggested that as it was to be sent by express it ought to besealed.
"There's a stick of sealing-wax in the drawer of the library table,"said Lucy, "if anybody's brave enough to go down and get it at this 'weesma' hour.' It must be nearly three o'clock."
Before she had finished her sentence Lloyd had lighted a candle to carrydown-stairs. She was back in a moment. They all stood around in a circlewhile she melted the red wax in the heat of the candle. "Somebody oughtto say an abracadabra charm ovah it," she suggested. "You do it, Kitty."Then she looked around her helplessly. "What am I going to do for aseal? Quick, somebody, hand me something off the dressing-table. Thestoppah of that vinaigrette will do."
Before Lucy could hand her the bottle Gay caught up the old silver ladleand pressed the end of its handle down on the soft wax.
"There's a crest on it," she explained, holding it firmly in place. "Themotto will read backwards, but that won't make any difference. There!"She lifted the ladle, and they all crowded around to see the clear-cutimpression left in the red wax, of a dagger thrust through a crown. Thetiny reversed letters of the motto were undecipherable, but Gaytranslated them.
"Jameson says it's the Latin for 'I strive till I overcome,' and that'sa fine war-cry for Betty. She's striven so long it's bound to bring acrown, only that other thing ought to be a pen instead of a dagger."
"Let me put one seal on, just for luck," begged Kitty when Lloyd hadcarefully fastened both ends of the package. She held the wax to theflame. "Everybody make a wish," she ordered. "Wish _hard_."
They wished in silence. In silence they looked on while Kitty droppedthe third red drop on the package and pressed into it the crown and thedagger of the ladle's crest. Then they stood over Betty while sheaddressed it to the publisher to whom long ago she had decided to sendit. Then Gay laid it solemnly beside the silver heirlooms as one of thethings "to be carried out first in case of fire."
"Three o'clock and all is well," called Kitty as the chime on the stairbegan its warning. "The deed is done and all the omens are auspicious."
"That will be a scene to remember always," thought Betty gratefully,looking around at the four pretty girls in the candlelight, as they madea ceremony of the launching of her little ship, their faces filled withloving interest.
The chickens were crowing for daylight before she fell asleep, for shecould not hinder her happy thoughts from straying off to the future,when this same little ship should come home from sea with its cargo offame and fortune that the girls had predicted. She had dedicated thebook simply "To my Godmother," and she pictured to herself the suprememoment when she could lay the published volume in her hands. She wouldsend one to Madam Chartley, she decided, and one to Miss Chilton, whoseinstructions in English had been such an inspiration to her. Then, ofcourse, each one of the girls must have one.
Strangers would write to her, people would thrill with pleasure over herpages as she had thrilled over other authors, and--oh, yes! _Davy_ musthave one of the very first copies of the book, since he had been thefirst lover of her stories. She almost sat up in bed in the excitementof her next thought. She wondered why it never had occurred to herbefore. If the book should be really successful it would bring her moneyof her own. She could be the good fairy of the Cuckoo's Nest. How manycomforts she could slip into it to make life easier for poor tired,over-worked cousin Hetty! And--_Davy could go away to school_!
That last thought sent a warm glad tingle over her. How good God hadbeen to give her this delightful way of making a Road of the LovingHeart in every one's memory--with her pen! She felt that her whole lifeought to be a perpetual Thanksgiving, and when she fell asleep with asmile on her lips, she was repeating drowsily: "My lines have fallen tome in pleasant places. Yea, I have a goodly heritage."
The Little Colonel's Knight Comes Riding Page 7