CHAPTER VII
Rebecca Mary could never believe that the next two weeks reallyhappened. They were far too wonderful. They couldn't have happened toher for nothing but influenza and moths and insurance premiums had cometo her. She felt as if she were in the middle of the very nicest dream agirl could have when she stood in the most attractive bed room she hadever seen and looked around her. It certainly was going to be jolly toperch in the lap of luxury for a while.
No wonder Rebecca Mary liked Mrs. Peter Simmons' guest room. It was sovery different from the dingy rectangle which was her sitting room byday and her sleeping room by night. Mrs. Simmons' guest room, with itsflower strewn chintz whose roses were repeated in the garlands on theivory bed and dresser, overlooked Mrs. Simmons' garden from which theroses seemed to have strayed. A white bathroom opened from this rosebower and beyond it was a blue room among whose forget-me-nots andbachelor buttons Joan had found a place for her family portrait, herclock and her potato masher.
And Rebecca Mary's days were as different as her bed room. Instead ofgoing to school Rebecca Mary went about with Granny and met a lot ofpleasant people of all ages. Granny was a favorite with the youngpeople, and as there was no end to what she would do for them she wasalways the center of a jolly little group.
"It's the prescription I'm trying to keep my heart young," she toldRebecca Mary wistfully.
So there were luncheons and teas with girls Rebecca Mary had neverimagined she would ever know, and informal dinners and dances at theCountry Club and long automobile drives. One morning Granny took herguests to see Mrs. Hiram Bingham's small sons, and Joan hung enrapturedover the dimpled twins.
"Horatio and Hiram!" How Granny laughed at the names. "What should youhave done, Judith, if there had been but one baby? Which father wouldyou have honored?"
"Thank goodness I didn't have to make a choice!" Judith shivered at themere thought of honoring but one father. "Providence was mighty good tosend me two sons. Horatio and Hiram are dreadful names, aren't they?But I just had to name the boys for my daddy and for Father Bingham."
"If there had been but one you could have named him for the jam whichbrought you and Hiram together," suggested Granny with a twinkle.
"They name babies for kaisers but do they ever name them for jam?" Joancould not believe that a jar of preserves would furnish a suitable namefor any child. "My daddy was named for a kaiser, not this kaiser butanother one. His name is Frederick William Gaston Johan Louis," sheannounced proudly.
"Mercy me, what a mouthful! What does he do with so many?" Granny hademphasized each name with a squeeze of Rebecca Mary's arm. Surely Joancould never have imagined such a combination.
"He doesn't use them all now." Joan was almost apologetic. "In Waloo heonly uses the Frederick one. Isn't it funny how your names change? InGermany I'm Johanna. '_Ein gutes Kind, Johanna_,' the kaiser said I washimself, and in France and America I'm Joan. Oh, did you see that?" Foryoung Horatio had seized a handful of Joan's black hair. "Isn't he adarling! He's--he's a lot better than a potato masher, isn't he?"
They all laughed, and names were forgotten for the moment althoughGranny gave Rebecca Mary an extra hard squeeze when she heard what thekaiser had called Joan.
"They must be German," Granny said, when she and Rebecca Mary werealone. "I thought so all the time. No one but a German would go away andleave a little girl as Joan was left. I shouldn't be surprised if CountErnach de Befort never came back," she added cheerfully.
"Oh!" Rebecca Mary was stunned at such a thought. "Of course he willcome back. And Joan didn't say she was a German."
"Joan doesn't say she is anything. I don't believe she knows even if shedid say she was from Echternach. Never mind, Rebecca Mary, if she isleft on your hands I'll help you take care of her. She amuses me withher contradictory statements. I like a mystery now that the war isover."
"I'm not sure that I do," murmured bewildered Rebecca Mary.
She really didn't have much time to wonder about Joan for Granny'sfriends seemed to have entered into a delightful conspiracy to make muchof Rebecca Mary. Sallie Cabot gave a dinner dance for her and RoseHorton, who had been Rose Cabot, gave a tea and even Madame Cabot, whowas Richard's great aunt, gave a theater party, after which she took herguests to the Waloo for supper and to dance. You can't really blameRebecca Mary for rubbing her eyes and wondering if she could be RebeccaMary Wyman.
Stanley Cabot was at several of these affairs, and he watched RebeccaMary with an amused smile.
"I thought you said she scowled at old Dick," he said to Granny."Perhaps I don't know a scowl when I see one, but I didn't think it waslike that." And he nodded toward Rebecca Mary, who was smiling atRichard Cabot.
"Dear child," murmured Granny. "When you are my age, Stanley, you willhate to see anything but smiles on young faces. I hope Rebecca Mary hasforgotten how to frown. But it was a scowl, Stanley, I know it was,which first attracted Richard."
It almost seemed as if Rebecca Mary had forgotten how to do anything butsmile, and young Peter had no occasion to shout "Pirate." He was in andout of the house at all hours and so had every opportunity to see whatRebecca Mary was doing. It was not often that she could persuade him totalk to her of his experiences in France.
"Of course a man can't get it out of his thoughts," he did say one day,"but it isn't anything he wants to talk about. It was just luck that gotme up to the front. If I hadn't been lucky I shouldn't have gone anyfarther than Dick Cabot. You know he tried to get into the service, anyservice? Yep. But he broke his arm when he was a kid and it's a littlestiff. The doctors wouldn't pass him. Then he tried for the Red Crossand Uncle Sam said, 'No, you're a banker, Dick Cabot, and the work youcan do is to sell Liberty bonds.' I'd hate to tell you how many bondsDick did sell. It was owing to him that this district went over the topas soon as the sales were on. He's a corker, Dick Cabot, all right, allright. And he did as much at home to win the war as I did in France."
"Oh!" breathed Rebecca Mary, trying to grasp this point of view whichPeter was offering her. It was splendid of Peter to talk that way butshe couldn't really think that Richard at home had done as much as Peterin France, and she said so.
"That shows what an ignorant little girl you are," Peter retorted. "Butdon't let's talk about the war. There are a lot of pleasanter subjects."
"Such as?" If he wouldn't talk about the war he could choose his ownsubject.
"You," Peter told her as she should have known he would tell her. And hechuckled when she flushed as he had known she would flush. Peter lovedto make Rebecca Mary blush and stammer although it was not as easy as ithad been. Rebecca Mary was acquiring poise.
Richard's class in motor driving met as he had planned, and his onepupil would never forget the first time that she had her hands on thewheel and felt the pull of the sixty horses harnessed under the hood.
"It makes you feel like a--like a god!" she gasped, not daring to takeher eyes from the road.
"It makes you look like a goddess," laughed Richard. "You're going tomake a good driver, Miss Wyman. You can follow instructions and keepyour mind on what you are doing. You don't try a dozen things at once."
"That was what I was trained to do. A school teacher has to keep hermind on her work, and, goodness knows, she is given plenty ofinstructions to follow."
"You won't be a school teacher long," prophesied Richard, reaching overto show her something, and his hand covered hers.
A thread of fire seemed to start from his fingers and run all overRebecca Mary. She couldn't speak for a second, and when she did speakher voice was not as steady as she wanted it to be.
"Gracious me, I hope not," she stuttered. "Who would want to teachschool for ever?"
"You won't do it for ever!" Richard said again, and no seventh daughterof a seventh daughter could have been more emphatic about the future. Hesmiled at Rebecca Mary as she sat beside him, her cheeks pink, her eyesblack with excitement, her hair blowing about her face. She wore anothersmall portion of Aunt Ellen'
s present, an old rose silk sweater, and itwas wonderfully becoming.
"I'd like to do this for ever," she murmured. "I've at last found anoccupation which suits me right down to the very ground."
"Would you like to do it for me for ever?" The question did not surpriseRebecca Mary half as much as it did Richard. It was not often that heuttered soft nothings to a girl. He was more accustomed to talk ofstocks and bonds, and he thought it was strange that he never wanted totalk of stocks and bonds to Rebecca Mary. "You must have another lessonvery soon," he went on in a more matter of fact voice as she did nottell him whether she would like to drive for him for ever. "Practice isthe only thing that will make you perfect. You must have a lot ofpractice."
When Peter heard that Richard was teaching Rebecca Mary to drive his bigcar he pretended to be vastly indignant.
"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to learn?" he demanded.
"I didn't have to tell Mr. Cabot," she answered triumphantly.
"Great old mind reader, Dick Cabot is, isn't he? Well, if you'relearning to drive his big car you had better let me teach you how tomanage a roadster and Granny's small car and the limousine."
"And then I can stop teaching school and open a garage," dimpled RebeccaMary. "Very well, bring out your roadster."
"You drive very well," Peter was good enough to say when Rebecca Maryhad demonstrated what she could do. "A little more practice and you candrive anywhere."
"Really!" Rebecca Mary liked his words so much that she wanted to hearthem again.
"Really."
And then Rebecca Mary killed her engine and couldn't remember how tostart it again. Peter put his hand on the button at the same moment shedid, and his five fingers closed over Rebecca Mary's five fingers.Rebecca Mary quivered to her toes, but she tried to be very matter offact.
"Granny said I might have to drive for her," she said quickly. "Karl isgoing to leave, and she hasn't found a new chauffeur yet."
That evening she actually did drive Richard through the traffic whichsurged around the pavilion where the weekly band concert was given. IfPeter had been there he would have had to shout "Pirate" several timesfor Rebecca Mary did scowl yellow brownly, but that was because she wasso anxious to drive well.
"Aren't you shaking in your shoes?" she asked when they were held up ata very busy crossing. "No one can question your bravery now. You'vecertainly earned a medal."
Richard looked at her sparkling eyes, and his staid invulnerable heartgave a flop which startled him, and a flash appeared in his dark eyes.
"I'm a man who always collects what he earns," he told her in a waywhich made her heart thump a bit, too, although she would not let himknow that, not for worlds. "There isn't a better collector in all Waloothan I am."
"My goodness gracious AND my gracious goodness!" Rebecca Mary seemedmuch impressed by Richard, the bill collector. "But you must not readthe future by the past," she cautioned gravely. "I seem to remember thatat college I was told that even Napoleon had his Waterloo."
"We are not discussing Napoleon Bonaparte but one Richard Deane Cabot,"Richard reminded her severely.
"Vice president of the First National Bank of Waloo," she nodded as ifto make sure that they were talking of the same Richard Deane Cabot."That sounds very important, doesn't it? Important and rich and--andsolid. How does it feel?" she asked with a certain gay insouciance whichwas as new to Rebecca Mary as it was becoming.
He laughed. "Just at present it feels mighty good. I'm very grateful tothe First National Bank. I owe my present job as a motor teacher to thatsame bank."
Rebecca Mary's sober face made a desperate attempt to conceal her amusedsmile. "That's true," she said, but her voice was as much of a failureas a disguise as her sober face. "The two most important buildings inWaloo are undoubtedly the First National Bank and the Waloo Hotel. Atlast!" as the traffic policeman gave them the right of way. "I hope Idon't do the wrong thing now and mortify my teacher as well as myself.You never can tell what a pupil will do."
"I'm not afraid of my pupil." Richard was stimulatingly confident.
"I told you that you were a brave man. There!" Rebecca Mary drew a longbreath. "We are on our way again." She turned impulsively to Richard andexclaimed from the very depths of her heart: "I can't ever tell you, Mr.Cabot, how happy you have made me!"
"I'm glad," was all Richard said, but his eyes flashed again. "Itdoesn't take much to make some little girls happy."
"Don't belittle your own generosity," scolded Rebecca Mary. "You'vegiven me a lot and you know it."
Joan ran out to meet them when they returned.
"Granny is going to let me have a party!" she cried, scarcely able tobelieve her news herself. "I'm to choose the guests and the dinner andeverything. I'm going to have you and the Bingham twins and Mr. Peter.And I can't think whether to have little pig sausages and waffles likewe did the other morning for breakfast or nightingales' tongues like inthe story you read me, Miss Wyman. Granny said sausage and wafflesdidn't belong to dinner, but if we had them for dinner they would,wouldn't they? And she said she was afraid there weren't anynightingales' tongues in the market, and if there were did I think theBingham twins could eat them. Once at home we had a swan with all itsfeathers on, and another time, at Echternach, when the kaiser came, wehad a boar's head. Do you think you'd like one of those?" doubtfully.
Rebecca Mary looked up quickly to see Richard's face when Joan spoke ofthe kaiser as a dinner guest at Echternach, but he only looked amused soRebecca Mary stooped and kissed the flushed little face. "What I shouldlike best would be a little spring chicken," she said.
"Odd little thing, isn't she?" Richard said when Joan had danced away toask Granny if the three months' old Bingham twins could eat springchicken. "Have you heard from her father?"
"Not a word. Nor from Mrs. Muldoon. We drove over yesterday, but Mrs.Lee hadn't heard anything."
"It was mighty good of you to take her in." Richard spoke as if no onein the world but Rebecca Mary would have taken charge of a child whohad been left on the door step with a clock, a portrait and a potatomasher.
"What else could I do?" Rebecca Mary would like to be told how she couldhave done anything else. "She was--loaned to me." And she laughed. Itwas so easy to laugh at the loan now.
"All the same it was mighty good of you." He wished she would laughagain. Like Joan, Richard did admire Rebecca Mary's face when it "brokeinto little holes." "I don't know many girls who would have taken careof a child who had no claim on them."
"But she did have a claim on me. I was her teacher." And Rebecca Marydid laugh again.
Granny was just hanging up the telephone receiver when Rebecca Mary wentinto the house.
"I've been talking to Seven Pines," she said. "Is there any reason whywe shouldn't drive out there to-morrow, Rebecca Mary? Mrs. Swanson justcalled me up to tell me that Otillie is going to be married and shewants me to come out and see her wedding things."
"A wedding!" Joan jumped up and down on delighted toes. "You'll take me,Granny Simmons? You'll never leave me in Waloo? You know I've neverbeen to a wedding. I've only been to church and school and a movingpicture show."
"Then you certainly shall go to Otillie's wedding. We'll start in themorning and take our time," Granny suggested to Rebecca Mary. "What doyou say?"
"I say goody, goody!" exclaimed Rebecca Mary. "You have told me so muchabout Seven Pines I'm crazy to see it."
That night when she went to her room she nodded merrily at the radiantface of the girl in the big mirror.
"Well, Rebecca Mary Wyman," she murmured joyously. "You certainly haveturned over a new leaf--a real four-leaf clover leaf. You're having thetime of your young life. You must send Cousin Susan a testimonial forher memory insurance company!" For she remembered to give the credit forher new leaf to where credit was due. "You've had more fun since youtook out one of her policies than you ever had before. Gracious, Ishould think you had!"
She was still looking at the happy face in the mirro
r and dreamilywondering about the bright new leaf she had turned over when the dooropened and there stood Granny Simmons. She wore her hat and her motorcoat dragged from her arm. In her hand she held a yellow telegram.
"Come, Rebecca Mary," she said impatiently. "Put on your hat. We'll goto-night!"
Rebecca's Promise Page 7