CHAPTER XVIII
"Save Me From My Friends"
"Miss Jinny! Miss Jinny! Wait a minit. Dar's a man yander at de backdo' dat wants fer ter ax yo' sumpin' he say," called Mammy, as shehurried through the hall just as Mrs. Carruth was leaving the houseupon the following Monday morning.
"What is it, Mammy?" asked Mrs. Carruth, pausing.
"He say he want ter see yo' pintedly."
Mrs. Carruth retraced her steps and upon reaching the back porch foundMr. Pringle waiting to see her.
"Hope I haven't delayed you, Mrs. Carruth, but I wanted to see you ona matter of business which might help both of us, you see. Ah, Ithought--I thought mebbe you'd like to hear of it."
"I certainly should like to if it is to my advantage, Mr. Pringle,"replied Mrs. Carruth, with a pleasant smile for the livery stablekeeper, who stood self-consciously twirling his cap.
"Yes, ma'am. I thought so, ma'am. Well it's this: Your stable, ma'am,up at the old place, are you usin' it at all?"
"Not as a stable. It is more like a storehouse just now, for manythings saved from the fire are stored there."
"Could you put them somewhere else and rent the stable to me, ma'am?I'm much put to it to find room for my boarding horses, and thecarriages; my place is not big, and I thought could I rent your stableI'd keep most of my boarding horses up there; it's nearer to theirowners you see, ma'am."
Mrs. Carruth thought a moment before replying.
"I shall have to think over your proposal, Mr. Pringle. There is agreat deal of stuff stored in the stable and I am at a loss to knowwhat we could do with it. However, I will let you know in a day or twoif that will answer."
"Take your own time, ma'am. Take your own time. There's no hurry atall. I'll call round about Thursday and you can let me know. I'd bewilling to pay twenty-five dollars a month for it, ma'am."
Pringle did not add that the step had been suggested to him by HadynStuyvesant, or that he had also set the figure.
When they were all gathered in the pleasant living-room that evening,she spoke of the matter, ending with the question:
"But _where_ can we put all that furniture? _This_ house will not holdanother stick I'm afraid; we are crowded enough as it is."
For a few moments no one had a suggestion to offer, then Constancecried:
"Mother couldn't we _sell_ a good many of the things? People do thatyou know. The Boyntons did when they left Riveredge."
"Yes, they had a private sale and disposed of many things. Theyadvertised for weeks. I am afraid that would delay things too much."
"Why not have an auction then? _That_ moves quickly enough. The thingsgo or they _don't_ go, and that is the end of it."
"Oh, I should dislike to do that. So many of those things hold verytender associations for me," hesitated Mrs. Carruth.
"Yet I am sure there are many things there which can't possibly have,mother. That patent washing machine, for example, that is as big as adining-room table, and Mammy 'pintedly scorns,'" laughed Eleanor.
"And Jean's baby carriage. And the old cider-press, and that Noah'sark of a sideboard that we never _can_ use," added Constance.
"And my express-wagon. I'll never play with _that_ again you know; I'mfar too old," concluded Jean with much self-importance.
"I dare say there are a hundred things there we will never use again,and which would better be sold than kept. Come down to the place withus to-morrow afternoon, Mumsey, and we will have a grand rummage,"said Eleanor. And so the confab ended.
The following afternoon was given over to the undertaking, and as isinvariably the case, they wondered more than once why so manyperfectly useless articles had been so long and so carefullycherished.
Among them, however, were many which held very dear memories for Mrs.Carruth, and with which she was reluctant to part. Among these was asmall box of garden-tools, which had belonged to her husband, and withwhich he had spent many happy hours at work among his beloved flowerbeds. Also a reading lamp which they had bought when they were firstmarried, and beneath whose rays many tender dreams had taken form andin many instances become realities. To be sure the lamp had not beenused for more than ten years, as it had long since ceased to beregarded as either useful or ornamental, and neither it nor the gardentools were worth a dollar.
But wives and mothers are strange creatures and recognize values whichno one else can see. The girls appreciated their mother's love forevery object which their father's hands had sanctified, and urged herto put aside the things she so valued, arguing that the proceeds couldnot possibly materially increase the sum they might receive for thegeneral collection. But Mrs. Carruth insisted that if one thing wassold all should be, and that her personal feelings must not influenceor enter into the matter. So in time all was definitely arranged; theauctioneer was engaged and the sale duly advertised for a certainSaturday morning. No sooner were the posters in evidence than MissJerusha Pike, likewise, became so. She swept in upon Mrs. Carruth onemorning when the latter was endeavoring to complete a much-neededfrock for Jean, as that young lady's elbows were as self-assertive asherself, and had a trick of appearing in public when it was mostinconvenient to have them do so. Between letting down skirts andputting in new sleeves Mrs. Carruth's hands were usually kept welloccupied.
"Morning, Mammy," piped Miss Pike's high-pitched voice, as Mammyanswered her ring at the front door. "What's the meaning of thesesigns I see about town. You don't mean to tell me you are going tosell _out_? I couldn't believe my own eyes, so I came right straighthere to find out. _Where_ is that dear, dear woman?"
"She up in her room busy wid some sewin'," stated Mammy, withconsiderable emphasis upon the last word as a hint to the visitor.
"Well, tell her not to mind _me_; I'm an old friend, you know. I'll goright up to her room; I wouldn't have her come down for the world."
"Hum! Yas'm," replied Mammy, moving slowly toward the stairs. Tooslowly thought Miss Pike, for, bouncing up from the reception-roomchair, upon which she had promptly seated herself, she hurried afterthe retreating figure saying:
"Now don't you bother to go way up-stairs. I don't doubt you have ahundred things to do this morning, and I've never been up-stairs inthis house, anyway. Go along out to your kitchen, Mammy, and I'll justannounce myself." And brushing by the astonished old woman she rushedhalf way up the stairs before Mammy could recover herself. It was amaster coup de main, for well Miss Pike knew that she would never beinvited to ascend those stairs to the privacy of Mrs. Carruth's ownroom. Mammy knew this also, and the good soul's face was a study asshe stared after her. Miss Pike disappeared around the curve of thestairs calling as she ascended:
"It's only _me_, dear. Don't mind me in the least. Go right on withyour work. I'll be charmed to lend you a hand; I'm a master helper atsewing." Mammy muttered:
"Well ef yo' aint de banginest han' at pokin' dat snipe nose o' yoursinter places whar 'taint no call ter be _I'd_ lak ter know who _is_.I'se jist a good min' ter go slap bang atter yo' an' hustle yo' froo'dat front door; I is fer a fac'."
Meanwhile, aroused from her occupation by the high-pitched voice, Mrs.Carruth dropped her work and hurried into the hall. She could hardlybelieve that this busy-body of the town had actually forced herselfupon her in this manner. She had often tried to do so, but as oftenbeen thwarted in her attempts.
"Oh, _why did_ you get up to meet me? You shouldn't have done it, youdear thing. I know how valuable every moment of your time isnow-a-days. Dear, dear, how times have changed, haven't they? Now goright back to your room and resume your sewing and let me help while Italk. I _felt I must_ come. Those awful signs have haunted me eversince I first set my eyes upon them. _Don't_ tell me you are going tosell anything! Surely you won't leave Riveredge? Why I said to MissDoolittle on my way here, well, if the Carruths have met with _more_reverses and have got to sell out, _I'll_ clear give up. You haven't,have you? But this house must be an awful expense, ain't it? How muchdoes Hadyn Stuyvesant ask you for it anyway? I'll bet he isn't_giv
ing_ it away. His mother was rather near, you know, and I dare sayhe takes after her. _Do_ you pay as much as fifty a month for it? Isaid to Miss Doolittle I bet anything you didn't get it a cent less.Now do you? It's all between ourselves; you know I wouldn't breathe itto a soul for worlds."
If you have ever suddenly had a great wave lift you from your feet,toss you thither and yonder for a moment, and then land you high anddry upon the beach when you have believed yourself to be enjoying adelightful little dip in an apparently calm ocean, you will have someidea of how Mrs. Carruth felt as this tornado of a woman caught her byher arm, hurried her back into her quiet, peaceful bedroom, forced herinto her chair, and picking up her work laid it upon her lap, at thesame time making a dive for an unfinished sleeve, as she continued thevolley.
"Oh, I see just _exactly_ what you're doing. I can be the greatesthelp to you. Go right on and don't give this a thought. I've beenobliged to do so much piecing and patching for the family that I'malmost able to patch _shoes_. Now _what_ did you say Haydn Stuyvesantcharged you for this house?"
The sharp eyes were bent upon the sleeve.
"I don't think I said, Miss Pike. And, thank you, it is not necessaryto put a patch upon the elbow of that sleeve as you are preparing todo; I have already made an entire new one. As to our leaving RiveredgeI am sorry you have given yourself so much concern about it. When wedecide to do so I dare say _you_ will be the first to learn of ourintention. Yes, the auction is to take place at our stable as theannouncement states. You learned all the particulars regarding it fromthe bills, I am sure. If you are interested you may find time to bepresent that morning. And now, since I am strongly averse to receivingeven my most intimate friends in a littered-up room I will ask you toreturn to the reception room with me," and rising from her chair thisquiet, unruffled being moved toward the door.
"But your work, my dear. Your work! You can't afford to let meinterrupt it, I'm afraid. Your time must be so precious."
"It seems to have been interrupted already, does it not? Sometimes wewould rather sacrifice our time than our temper, don't you think so?"and a quizzical smile crept over Mrs. Carruth's face.
"Well, now, I hate to have you make company of me. I really do. Ithought I'd just run in for a little neighborly chat and I seem tohave put a stop to everything. Dear me, I didn't think you'd mind _me_a mite. Are you going to sell this set of furniture? 'Taint so verymuch worn, is it? Only the edges are a little mite frayed. Some peoplemightn't notice it, but my eyesight's exceptional. Well, do tell me_what's_ goin'."
As though fate had taken upon herself the responsibility of answeringthat question, the door-bell rang at the instant and when it wasanswered by Mammy, Mrs. Eleanor Carruth stalked into the hall. Mrs.Carruth rose to greet her. _Miss Pike rose to go._ If there was oneperson in this world of whom Jerusha Pike stood in wholesome awe itwas Mrs. Eleanor Carruth, for the latter lady had absolutely no usefor the former, and let her understand it. Madam Carruth, as she wasoften called, shook her niece's hand, looked at her keenly for amoment and then said:
"My stars, Jenny, what ails you? You look as though you'd been blownabout by a whirlwind. Oh, how do _you_ do, Miss Pike. Just going?You're under too high pressure, Jenny. We must ease it up a little, Iguess. Good-bye, Miss Pike. My niece has always been considered a mostamiable woman, hasn't she? I think she hasn't backbone enough attimes. That is the reason I happen along unexpectedly to lend hersome. Fine day, isn't it?"
Two minutes later Miss Pike was in close confab with her friend MissDoolittle.
Aunt Eleanor was up in her niece's room putting in the neglectedsleeve and saying:
"If _I'd_ been in that front hall I'll guarantee she would never haveclomb those stairs. Now tell me all about this auction."
Three Little Women: A Story for Girls Page 18