CHAPTER XVI
United We Stand, Divided We Fall
It need hardly be stated that Mrs. Carruth had passed anything but atranquil morning. Indeed tranquillity of mind was almost unknown toher now-a-days, and her nights were filled with far from pleasantdreams.
From the hour her old home had burned, disasters had crowded upon her.Her first alarm lest the insurance upon her property had lapsed, owingto her inability to meet the premium punctually, had been allayed byMammy's prompt action and all seemed well. No one had given a thoughtto the conditions of the agreement, and, alas! no one had thought ofEleanor's laboratory. Indeed, had she done so, Mrs. Carruth was notsufficiently well informed upon such matters to have attached anyimportance to it. But one little clause in the policy had expresslyprohibited the presence of "gasoline, excelsior or chemicals of anydescription upon the premises," and all three had been upon it whenthe house burned; and, fatal circumstance, had been the _cause_ of thefire.
Such investigations move slowly, and weeks passed before these factswere brought to light and poor Mrs. Carruth learned the truth. Shestrove in every way to realize even a small proportion of the sum shecould otherwise have claimed, and influential friends lent their aidto help her. But the terms of the contract had, unquestionably, beenbroken, even though done in ignorance--and the precautions taken for somany years ended in smoke.
Mrs. Carruth had not meant to let the girls learn of it until, ifworse came to worst, all hope of recovering something had to be givenup.
But, several days before, Eleanor had found her mother in a state ofnervous collapse over the letter which brought the ultimatum, and hadinsisted upon knowing the truth. Mrs. Carruth confessed it only uponthe condition of absolute secrecy on Eleanor's part, for Constance wasin the midst of mid-year examinations and her mother would not have anextra care laid upon her just then. Eleanor had kept the secret untilthis morning when Jean's outbreak seemed to make it wiser to tell thetruth, and, if the confession must be made, poor Eleanor could nolonger conceal her remorse for the mischief her experiments hadbrought upon them all.
She had gone that morning to her Aunt Eleanor's home to confess thesituation to her, and to ask if she might leave school and seek someposition. The interview had been a most unpleasant one, for Mrs.Eleanor Carruth, Senior, never hesitated to express her mind, andhaving exceptional business acumen herself, had little patience withthose who had less.
"Your mother has no more head for business than a child of ten. Not asmuch as _some_, I believe. And, your father wasn't much better. Goodheavens and earth! the idea of a man in his sane senses agreeing topay another man's debts. I don't believe he _was_ in his senses,"stormed Mrs. Eleanor.
"Please, Aunt Eleanor, don't say such things to me about father andmother," said Eleanor, with a little break in her voice. "Perhapsmother doesn't know as much about business matters as she ought, andfather's heart got the better of his good sense, but they are fatherand mother and have always been devoted to us. I don't want to be rudeto you, but I _can't_ hear them unkindly spoken of," she ended with alittle uprearing of the head, which suddenly recalled to the iratelady a similar mannerism of her late husband who had been a mostforebearing man up to a certain point, but when that was reached hiswife knew a halt had been called; the same sudden uplifting of thehead now gave due warning.
However, Eleanor was only a child in her aunt's eyes, and, fond as shewas of her, in her own peculiar way, she could not resist a finalword:
"Well, I've no patience with such goin's on. And now here's a prettykettle of fish and no mistake. You've taken Hadyn Stuyvesant's housefor a year, and of course you've got to _keep_ it, yet every centyou've got in this world to live on is twelve hundred dollars a year.That means less than twenty-five dollars a week to house, clothe andfeed five people. I 'spose it can be done--plenty do it--but they're notCarruths, with a Carruth's ideas. And now _you_ want to quit schooland go to work? Well, I don't approve of it; no, not for a minute.You'll do ten times better to stay at school and then enter collegenext fall. _You've_ got the ability to do it, and it's flyin' in theface of Providence _not_ to."
Aunt Eleanor might just as well have added, "I representingProvidence," since her tone implied as much.
"Now run along home and leave me to think out this snarl. I can thinka sight better when I'm alone," and with that summary and ratherunsatisfactory dismissal, Eleanor departed for her own home to be metby Jean with her trials and tribulations.
Meanwhile Mrs. Carruth had gone in quest of that young lady, for uponMammy's return from market, Jean, Baltie and the box of candy had beenmissed, and the old woman had raised a hue and cry. At first theybelieved it to be some prank, but as the hours slipped away and Jeanfailed to reappear, Mrs. Carruth grew alarmed and all three set forthin different directions to search for her. Constance going to AmyFletcher's home. Mammy to their old home, or at least all that wasleft of it, for Jean frequently went there on one pretext or another,and Mrs. Carruth down town, as the marketing section of Riveredge wastermed. While there, one of the shopkeepers told her that Jean haddriven by, headed for South Riveredge.
Upon the strength of this vague information Mrs. Carruth had 'phonedhome that she was setting out for South Riveredge by the trolley andhoped to find the runaway.
But the search, naturally, was unavailing and she was forced to returnin a most anxious state of mind. As she turned into Hillside streetand began to mount the steep ascent, her limbs were trembling, partlyfrom physical and partly from nervous exhaustion. Before she reachedthe top she saw the object of her quest bearing down upon her witharms outstretched and burnished hair flying all about her.
Jean had not paused for the hat or coat, which she had impatientlyflung aside upon entering Eleanor's room. Her one impulse afterlearning of the calamity which had overtaken them was to offerconsolation to her mother. The impact when she met that weary womancame very near landing them both in the gutter, and nothing but thelittle fly-away's agility saved them. Jean was wonderfully strong forher age, her outdoor life having developed her muscles to a mostunusual degree.
"Oh, mother, mother. I'm _so_ sorry I frightened you. I didn't meanto; truly I didn't. I only wanted to prove I _could_ help, and now I_can_, 'cause I've got a _lot_ of new customers and made most fourdollars. I could have made more if some of the papers hadn't burstedand spilt the candy in the road. We got some of it up, but it was alldirty and I couldn't take any money for _that_, though the boys _ate_it after they'd washed if off at the hose faucet. It wasn't so verydirty, you know. And now I'm going out there every single Saturdaymorning, and Connie and I--"
"Jean; Jean; stop for mercy's sake. What _are_ you talking about? Haveyou taken leave of your senses, child?" demanded poor Mrs. Carruth,wholly bewildered, for until this moment she had heard absolutelynothing of the candy-making, Mammy and Constance having guarded theirsecret well. It had never occurred to Jean that even her mother was inignorance of the enterprise, and now she looked at her as though ithad come her turn to question her mother's sanity. They had nowreached the house and were ascending the steps, Jean assisting hermother by pushing vigorously upon her elbow.
"Come right into the living-room with me, Jean, and let me learn whereyou've been this morning. You have alarmed me terribly, and Mammy hasbeen nearly beside herself. She was sure you and Baltie were bothkilled."
"Pooh! Fiddlesticks! She might have known better. She thinks Baltie isas fiery as Mr. Stuyvesant's Comet, and that nobody can drive him butherself. I've been to East Riveredge with the candy--"
"_What_ candy, Jean? I do not know what you mean."
"_Constance's_ candy!" emphasized Jean, and then and there told thewhole story so far as she herself knew the facts regarding it. Mrs.Carruth sat quite speechless during the recitation, wondering what newdevelopment upon the part of her offspring the present order of thingswould bring to light.
"And Mumsey, darling," continued Jean, winding her arms about hermother's neck and slipping upon her lap, "I'm go
ing to help _now_; Ireally am, 'cause Nornie has told me about that horried old insuranceand I know we haven't much money and--"
"Nornie has told _you_ of the insurance trouble, Jean? How came she todo such a thing?" asked Mrs. Carruth, at a loss to understand whyEleanor had disobeyed her in the matter.
"She told me 'cause I was so mad at her and Connie for having secrets,and treating me as if I hadn't the least little bit of sense, andcouldn't be trusted. I am little, Mumsey, dear, but I can help. Yousee if I can't, and the boys were just splendid and want me to comeevery Saturday. Please, please say I may go," and Jean kissed hermother's forehead, cheeks and chin by way of persuasion.
It must be confessed that Mrs. Carruth responded to these endearmentsin a rather abstracted manner, for she had had much to think of withinthe past few hours.
"Please say yes," begged Jean.
"Childie, I can not say yes or no just this moment. I am toooverwhelmed by what I have heard. I must know _all_ now, and learn itfrom Mammy and Constance. I cannot realize that one of my children hadactually entered upon such a venture. What _would_ your father say?"ended Mrs. Carruth, as though all the traditions of the Carruths, tosay nothing of the Blairsdales, had been shattered to bits and thrownbroadcast.
"But you'll tell me before _next_ Saturday, won't you? You know theboys will be on the lookout for their candy and will be _so_disappointed if I don't take it."
"I can not promise _anything_ now. The first thing to do is to eat ourluncheon; it is long past two o'clock. _Then_ we will hold a familycouncil and I hope I shall recover my senses; I declare I feel asthough they were tottering."
Mrs. Carruth rose from her chair and with Jean dancing beside herentered the dining-room to partake of a very indifferent meal, forMammy had been too exercised to give her usual care and thought to itspreparation.
Three Little Women: A Story for Girls Page 16