"But she must like you," Trixie gasped. "Love you, I mean."
"I'm not so sure of that." Honey stared out of the window at the huge blue spruce tree which stood in front of the house. "She was awfully worried when I was so sick. She came right up to the infirmary herself when the school telephoned her. And she never left me until I was well enough to be taken home. But-But-" Honey suddenly crumpled into a little heap on the carpet and burst into tears. "But-I-still-don't think she loves me."
Trixie's own blue eyes filled with sympathy as she knelt beside Honey and tried to comfort her. "Of course she loves you," she kept saying over and over again, not knowing what else to say.
"No, she doesn't," Honey sobbed uncontrollably. "If she did, why does she always send me away to schools and camps and have nurses and governesses take care of me instead of taking care of me herself the way other mothers do?"
"I don't know," Trixie admitted and then straightened as a sudden thought struck her. "You know what, Honey? Maybe she's afraid of you. Maybe she feels just as shy with you as you do with her. I think you ought to try talking more with her. What I mean is, you should tell her how you feel about things, instead of always going to Miss Trask. I'll bet my own mother would be awfully hurt if I told somebody else I wanted a bike or anything."
As though by magic, Honey's tears instantly stopped. She sat up and stared at Trixie. "Do you really think so?" she asked, flushing with excitement. "Do you think she'd listen when I told her-well, about my nightmares, for instance?"
"Of course, she'd listen," Trixie said firmly. "She's probably always wanted to be close to you but never knew how to begin."
Honey sprang to her feet. "I think you've got the answer, Trixie," she cried. "I remember now Daddy telling me a long time ago that Mother was very delicate when I was a baby. She still isn't terribly husky, and I guess I get my nervousness from her. I'll bet in the beginning she just wasn't strong enough to take care of me, and that's when the trouble began."
Trixie laughed with relief now that Honey was no longer in the dumps. "I'll bet your mother is exactly like you, Honey," she said. "You two will get on together like twin sisters once you get to know each other."
"I am supposed to look just like her," Honey admitted, pointing to a large portrait which hung on the far wall.
Trixie crossed over to look at it more closely. "Why, it's you twenty years from now," she giggled up at the lovely, slender-faced woman whose wide hazel eyes might have been Honey's. "What does your father look like?"
"I've got a big photograph of him in my room," Honey said. "Come on, let's go up there and get out of this morgue. This room always makes me weepy."
A maid was turning back the covers on Honey's bed as the girls came in. She unfolded a dainty, lace trimmed nightgown and brought Honey's silk negligee and matching slippers from the closet. "Will you be wanting anything else tonight, Miss Honey?" she asked.
"No, thanks." Honey smiled and turned to Trixie. "Oh, I wish you could spend the night with me. We could have a long talk about everything and Celia would bring us breakfast in bed the next morning. Wouldn't you, Celia?"
The maid nodded. "Popovers and strawberry jam and one of cook's famous bacon omelets."
"Oh, please, Trixie," Honey begged. "If you do, we'll have an early start for our morning ride."
Trixie hesitated. The pale blue handkerchief-linen sheets and pillow cases on Honey's bed looked very inviting. And the idea of having breakfast in bed when she was perfectly well was such a novel one that she couldn't resist it. "I'll telephone Dad," she said. "If he'll let me off from feeding the chickens in the morning, I guess I can stay."
Mrs. Belden answered the phone when Trixie called and gave her permission to spend the night with Honey. "May I have the whole day off, Moms?" Trixie asked. "We want to ride through the woods on the other side of the road and have a picnic lunch."
Her mother consulted Mr. Belden and came back with the word that Trixie deserved a day off. "Have a good time, dear," she said.
"Thanks, Moms, and good night." Trixie placed the phone back in its cradle and hurried down the long hall to Honey's room. "It's okay," she grinned. "I'll have to borrow something to sleep in. Haven't you anything else except those lacy nightgowns? I've slept in pajamas ever since I can remember."
"I've got pajamas." Honey pulled a long mirror away from the wall and revealed several rows of shelves. "These are my camp clothes," she said. "Take your pick. They're all too small for me now, but they ought to fit you even though you probably weigh more than I do."
The girls played Honey's radio while they showered and changed, and then Miss Trask came in to say it was time for them to turn out the lights.
"Don't talk too late," she cautioned as she left them alone. "At least, not loud enough for me to hear you," she finished with a laugh.
"She's really a great sport," Trixie whispered as she snuggled under the dainty sheet. "If I had to have a governess, I'd pick her every time."
"I love her," Honey confided. "You should have seen the one I had before Miss Trask came. She was Mother's secretary, too, because, of course, when I was away from home, there was nothing else for her to do. Mother liked her, but I couldn't stand her near me."
"What was the matter with her?" Trixie asked sleepily. "Oh, everything." Honey sat bolt upright in bed. "I can't sleep with all that moonlight pouring through the windows, but it's too hot to pull down the shades. Stay awake, Trixie, and I'll tell you about Miss Lefferts."
"Okay." Trixie suppressed a yawn and tried to prop her tired eyelids open. "What about Miss Lefferts?" "Why, she was about six feet tall and she must have weighed two hundred pounds." Honey giggled. "And yet she never made a sound when she walked. She was always sneaking up behind me and asking me if I'd done my piano lessons or embroidering or letter writing. She almost drove me crazy. She was the one who bought all those silly clothes in my closets and bureau drawers. She simply couldn't resist anything with lace and ruffles on it. Wouldn't she have a fit if she saw me in dungarees?"
"She sounds like something out of a book," Trixie said, between a yawn and a laugh. "I'll have a nightmare myself if you keep on talking about her. How did you happen to get rid of her?"
"That's the funny part of it," Honey said thoughtfully. "And I guess it proves you're right about me and my mother. When they brought me home from the school infirmary, there was Miss Lefferts waiting for me, armed to the teeth with all sorts of deadly dull projects which I could do in bed. I took one look at her and burst into tears."
"I should think you would have," Trixie said sympathetically. "Then what?"
"Why, then," Honey went on, "Daddy and Mother got awfully upset and asked me what was the matter. I couldn't stop crying, but finally I began to talk about Miss Trask and how much I liked her. She was the math instructor at school, and we got to be friendly, because I'm not very good at algebra and needed special tutoring. She told me how she had to support an invalid sister, and I knew Daddy paid Miss Lefferts much more than the school paid Miss Trask. Anyway, I never saw Miss Lefferts again, and when school closed at the end of May, Miss; Trask arrived to be my new governess. I think she's just perfect!"
Honey was silent for a while after that, and Trixie was just dozing off when she heard a strange, scratching sound at the door. She leaned on her elbow and saw that Honey was sound asleep. In spite of herself, Trixie felt little shivers run up and down her spine. There were so many big,. empty rooms in the house, and, except for the scratching, it was as quiet as a tomb.
Trixie suddenly felt homesick. She had never spent the night aw,-:ay from her family before in all her life, and she wished now that she were in her own bed across the hall from Bobby. The scratching continued, and then she heard a little, snuffling whine on the other side of the door.
It must be Honey's little cocker puppy, she thought with relief as she scrambled out of bed to let Buddy in. The puppy wriggled with joy when she opened the door, and Trixie scooped him up into her arms.
"Were you lonely, too, Bud?" she crooned, nestling him against her pajama top.
Honey woke up, then. "Oh, I forgot to let Buddy in," she cried. "I'm sorry he woke you up. He always sleeps on the rug by my bed."
The puppy jumped out of Trixie's arms to lick Honey's face, then curled up happily beside her. In a few minutes, both girls were sound asleep. When Trixie opened her eyes again, sunlight was flooding the room, and Celia was standing in the doorway with a tray heaped high with two delicious breakfasts.
Mr. Lytell's Curiosity
Jim stared at them in amazement when the girls appeared at the Mansion after breakfast, leading Jupiter. "Regan knows all about you," Honey said, answering the question in his eyes. "We didn't tell. He saw us yesterday morning from his room over the garage." Jim's broad shoulders slumped. "Then that does it.
He'll tell the police, of course."
"Oh, no, he won't," Trixie put in. "He won't tell anybody, Jim. And he wants you to ride Jupe. He said so." Jim looked worried but he grinned. "Regan must be some guy!" He swung up on the back of the big black gelding, and as Jupiter began to prance, anxious to be off, the worried expression on Jim's face faded into one of sheer delight. "I guess I'll risk it," he said. "I won't be around much longer, anyway. What have we here?" He pointed to the saddle bags in which Honey had packed the lunch.
"Sandwiches and cake and milk." Honey smiled. "We're going to ride through the trails on the other side of Glen Road and have a picnic in the woods."
"Swell." Jim's legs were almost as long as Regan's, so he pulled up the stirrup leather only one notch. He was an expert horseman, Trixie could see at once, and, no matter how much Jupiter reared and danced, Jim never moved an inch from the saddle. "You make me think of a centaur," she said. "You sort of blend right into that horse."
Jim's green eyes sparkled. "What I wouldn't give to own this fellow! And I bet I could get his mouth in shape in a couple of weeks. The fellow who schooled Jupe probably used a spade bit on him, that's why he fights the bit so now. With a little gentle handling, he'd respond to a snaffle in no time."
"Dad's got awfully heavy hands," Honey admitted. "He loves horses and is one of the best riders in the Squadron, but he hasn't much patience. He loses his temper very quickly. Sometimes he scares me." She led the way down the rutted road from the Mansion. "He's like Regan, though. He gets mad and gets over it so fast it sort of leaves you breathless."
"That's the kind of guy I like," Jim said, as he forced Jupiter to walk down behind Lady. "Jonesy is just the opposite. He broods a lot, and it takes him a long time to work himself up into a rage, and when he does, he goes almost insane. If he beat me in a moment of anger, I wouldn't mind it so much. Then it would be over and done with quickly. I can tell in the morning when he's mad about something, and it smolders in him all day long, and I go around waiting for the moment when he's going to grab me and drag me out to the barn." He chuckled. "He's working himself up into a lather now, I bet. He'd half kill me if he ever caught me."
Trixie shuddered inwardly. "That must never happen," she told herself. "Never, never."
At the foot of the hill, Jim reined in Jupiter behind a clump of bushes while the girls made sure that nobody was in sight. Jupiter reared impatiently. When they had safely crossed Glen Road, Jim let him out. The big horse pounded along the trail, well in the lead, and when Jim thought Jupe had had enough of a run, he stopped and waited for Trixie and Honey to catch up. Foam dripped from the horse's mouth as he worried the bit. Jim patted his neck soothingly.
"There, there, boy. They've got you all strapped up in a martingale so you can't rear as high as you'd like, haven't they? If you were mine," Jim said, half to himself, half aloud, "I'd let you rear your head off. I know what it's like to be tied up. The first time I ran away, jonesy caught me and tied me, hand and foot, to the bed for three days. I thought I'd go crazy."
"Oh," Honey gasped. "How awful! How did you ever have the nerve to run away again?"
Jim shrugged. "It wasn't so much nerve as it was sheer desperation. And the straw that broke the camel's back was the way he jeered when I told him I'd won a scholarship to college. I'd made up my mind, you see, to stick it out for another year, because, once I got into college, the worst would be over. I worked like anything to do two years in one and still keep at the head of the class." He grinned. "And I don't like to study much, either. Geometry practically threw me, but it was like a game. Anything to get away from Jonesy. And then, when everything was all set, he announced that he wasn't going to let me go to college. Said it would be a waste of time, because I'd flunk out the first year. Gosh, it was all I could do to keep from socking him."
"I don't see why you didn't," Trixie cried impulsively. "I bet you could beat him up."
Jim laughed. "I don't know about that. Jonesy's a powerful man, even though he's so stoop-shouldered he isn't much taller than I am. But, anyway, you don't go around socking older people. You just beat it."
"Whatever do you suppose made him such a beast?" Honey wondered. "He sounds crazy to me."
"He is crazy," Jim told her. "Crazy about money. You might think Uncle James was a miser, Trixie, but you don't know jonesy. He's kept books on how much it's cost him ever since I went to live with him. He put down every penny he gave me for a pad or pencil, even postage stamps, and he watched every mouthful of food I ate, weighing and measuring it."
"Golly," Trixie breathed. "Did he starve you, too, Jim?"
"No, he didn't do that," Jim said. "I was like an animal that had to be kept well-fed so it could work hard. He always had me checked by a doctor regularly, and he saw to it that I had good shoes and warm clothing. If he hadn't, the neighbors would have reported him to the police. But they know about the beatings. One of them interfered once, and jonesy was so scared he didn't touch me for several days after that. He's smart. If the neighbors complained, another guardian might be appointed, and jonesy would lose control of Uncle James's money. Not that I think there is any."
"Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money," Trixie insisted. "It would see you through college, anyway." "If the place isn't mortgaged," Jim reminded her.
"And if Uncle James didn't make another will. Anyway, jonesy can have it. I guess I've cost him that much in the last five years."
They cantered along silently for a while, and when they came to a gate Jim and Honey sailed over it.
"Oh, please, let me try it," Trixie begged. "I know I can do it! I know I can."
Jim reached over to unhook the rope which held the wooden bars in place. "No, sir," he said firmly. "We're not going to do anything to get Regan mad at us. All you need is a broken collarbone to make everything just dandy."
Trixie bit her lip as the gate swung open and Lady walked through. "It looks so easy," she complained. "Well, it's not," Jim told her. "There's a trick to jumping. If you got panicky and pulled on the reins instead of giving the horse his head, you could have a nasty accident. Also, Lady would sense that you're a beginner, and she might refuse at the last minute. You'd go sailing over her head, which wouldn't be any fun." He smiled at Trixie's flushed face. "Take it easy, kid. Start with a foot-high hurdle and work up. There's no sense in getting a lot of broken ribs unless you have to."
Trixie knew he was right, so she walked meekly around the next barrier without a word. When the sun was high in the sky they stopped for lunch beside a shallow stream. The horses drank thirstily and grazed quietly in the shade, even Jupiter being grateful for a chance to rest and cool off.
"It's at moments like this," Jim said, stretching out on the soft pine needles under the branches of the huge evergreens, "that I forget all about Jonesy. It's the nights I hate. The floors in that old house groan and creak all night long, and I keep waking up expecting to find jonesy standing over me with a whip in his hands."
"I hate the nights, too," Honey said sympathetically. "And I don't see how you can stay in that eerie place all alone. I bet it's full of rats."
"Mice," Jim said, "but I don'
t mind them. They're kind of friendly, and one of them's practically tame, so he must have been Uncle James's pet. By the way, you haven't heard anything more about my uncle, have you? "
Trixie shook her head. "No, but Dad's going to stop at the hospital sometime today, so I'll have news this evening." She rolled over and sat up. "We really ought to be starting back. I haven't the faintest idea where we are. Has anybody else?"
"Not me," Honey admitted. "But then, I have absolutely no sense of direction."
Jim held up his hand warningly. "Somebody's riding along the trail." He leaped on Jupiter's back. "I'd better hide behind those bushes on the other side of the brook."
When Jupiter and Jim had disappeared, Honey edged Strawberry closer to Lady. "I'm scared," she said. "Maybe we're trespassing."
"I think this land belongs to the State," Trixie whispered back, "but I'm not sure." And then the horse and rider came around the bend in the trail. "It's Mr. Lytell," Trixie breathed. "Golly, I forgot the store is closed on Tuesdays on account of being open Sundays."
Mr. Lytell was riding a gray, sway-backed mare with gaunt hipbones and discouraged-looking eyes. She stumbled to a stop beside Lady and immediately hung her head, almost as if she knew the other horses were making fun of her.
"Hello, girls," Mr. Lytell greeted. "Had a picnic, I see." "We just finished," Honey said. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"
"Too hot for my Belle," he said, patting the gray's neck. "Pretty far from home, aren't you?"
"I don't know," Trixie said. "Are we?"
He poked at his glasses. "Lost, huh? Well, just follow me, and I'll show you the way back."
"Oh, no, thanks," Trixie said hastily. "We're not ready to go home yet."
"Just as you say." He picked up the reins, and Belle obediently stumbled forward. "But this trail is like a maze. It goes round and round, crossing and recrossing itself. You could be lost for hours if you're not familiar with the landmarks." He waved to them with his crop. "We may meet up again."
The Secret of the Mansion Page 11