Six Girls and Bob: A Story of Patty-Pans and Green Fields

by Marion Ames Taggart

  CHAPTER XIX

  DISPOSSESSION AND POSSESSION

  "WELL!" said Rosie when she heard the great news. "Well, if that hain'tjust like all I ever heard 'em tell of old Bittenbender! To go andhide the will, and then let it in a place where 'twould be sure tobe found by whoever come here after him, so they'd have to stand theloss, or else be a big rascal like he was! I always heard 'em say oldBittenbender was the greatest scamp around here, but to hide the will,and then give the place he didn't own to pay his debt, and then let thewill behind him, yet, where you'd be sure to find it, beats everythingI ever heard."

  "It looks as if the late unlamented Isaac Bittenbender enjoyed a jokeof his own kind, though it isn't the sort to please all tastes injokes," remarked Bob. "It is lucky for him that the will wasn't foundwhile he still lived--it might have given him another sort of residencethan the Ark."

  "Well, it's a lucky thing for Gretta the farm come into honest hands,or the folks that found the will might have kept still about it andshe'd never have been no wiser," remarked Rosie. "As 'tis, what yougoin' to do about it?"

  "Not that," said Laura, unnecessarily. "Don't you know, Rosie, how hardAunt Keren tried to find the will, so she could give the place over toGretta?"

  "Why, you don't suppose I thought your Aunt Keren was a-goin' to keepit?" Rosie expostulated.

  "We are going to have the will proved, admitted to probate, and weshall install Gretta as mistress of the Ark just as soon as we canpossibly do so," said Miss Bradbury, smiling into Gretta's perturbedface. "Then we shall see what arrangement we can make with the owner bywhich we can stay on here for a time, instead of her living with us,but otherwise with no change of conditions. Did you ever see a girlso cast down by good fortune? Gretta, girl, pray look cheerful! Gazeout of the window at your own broad, snow-clad fields. Look around youat your own walls, and consider what a happy change this makes in thefortunes of a girl who has had nothing in all her life to call her own,not even a father's house! And now she is an independent farmer who,with a little help, can subsist off of her own good acres!"

  "I wish it could stay yours, and you would let me live with you; it isdreadful to take anything from you when you have given me so much,"repeated Gretta, unable yet to take any view of the morning's eventsexcept as they affected her friends.

  It was impossible, however, not to feel some little thrills ofpleasure as the idea of ownership became more familiar.

  The snow of that Saturday went off like the mists of a July morning. OnMonday the Scollards rejoiced in a premature sleigh-ride, though thedrifts made some of the exposed points of the roads nearly impassable.On Tuesday the same roads were running with rivulets of water, andeither sleighing or wheeling was nearly impossible.

  Gretta's distress at being an heiress went through nearly the sameprocess as the snow. Under the sunshine of Miss Bradbury and theScollards' unselfish pleasure in her good, she began to brighten. Thenshe began to take pleasure in the thought that she could actuallybenefit them and shelter them under her roof, giving as well asreceiving. It never occurred to any of them that they should separate,and in that case what did it matter, after all, in whose name the farmstood? It was and still should be, Gretta's home and that of its newinmates. It was a beautiful thing--provided no one else were the worsefor it--that by her grandmother's will the old house had fallen to hergrandchild, and that now Gretta Engel had a place, a holding in thecounty, and could take her position among her neighbors, no longeran object of charity. For even Miss Bradbury's, and the Scollards'charity--though it was of the sort meant by the strict meaning of theword--was a burden, lighten it as they would.

  Mrs. Scollard was so much better that it was hard not to be quite aswell as before she broke down, and to know that she was not equal toassuming the duties of her former clerkship. She talked a great dealwith her older children as to their next move. The Ark had been a rest;it had saved her, but obviously they could not live on in dependenceforever; there must be some way found to resume their independentexistence. Bob could go back at any moment to Mr. Felton, but thefive dollars a week at which he must begin would not support sixpeople--even youngsters' sanguine views of practical questions had toadmit that fact.

  Margery, Happie and Gretta had a plan; they spent hours discussing it,but nobody yet knew what it was. In the meantime Mrs. Scollard cudgeledher brains by day--and by night too, to her own harm--trying to thinkof some way out of her troubles.

  So when Bob drove up from the post-office on a day a little past themiddle of November with a letter among her mail from the firm for whichshe had so long been confidential correspondent, Mrs. Scollard tore itopen eagerly, and gave a queer little sob of joy as she laid it downafter reading it.

  "Oh, dear Miss Keren, do listen to this!" she said. "They ask me tocome back if I am at all able, to take charge again of their foreigncorrespondence. And they say if I am not equal to resuming fully myold duties, at least to come to assume general supervision of thatdepartment at a smaller salary, if the work must be divided. They begme to take my old position at fifty dollars a week, as before, or totake half the work at twenty-five dollars a week, until I am able todo more. Thirteen hundred a year--we can't live on it, but perhaps wecould manage? I don't believe I am equal to resuming everything--manageto add to it, I mean?" Mrs. Scollard looked vaguely at her hearers,thinking aloud.

  "Now here is where we come in!" cried Happie, starting up in rapture."We have the best plan, Margery, Gretta and I, but it never seemed tous enough to rely on. But it would help lots; you can't tell how much,till it gets under way. We want to open a tea room, and a circulatinglibrary, and we want to make it lovely, somewhere near the drive, orthe speedway, or somewhere where people get tired and thirsty, andblown to pieces. We may have to dress up as geishas, because that's theway it's usually done, but we don't want to; it's so silly! The girlsnever look Japanese."

  "Really, Keren-happuch, what are you talking about?" demanded MissBradbury.

  "Happie is trying to tell you about something we have talked over oflate--it was her idea in the first place," said Margery. "We thoughtthat we might--No; that isn't the beginning either! We thought that wemust earn money somehow. And we never were able to think of anythingthat we could do; we are all so very young. And mother would bemiserable if we so much as suggested anything that was--well, public,or which threw us in with people or things that weren't very niceindeed. And Happie said: A tea room! And it really does seem to be thevery thing, only we couldn't see, much as we wanted to, how it wouldbring in a great deal of money after we had paid rent and all the otherexpenses. Even though we meant to add a circulating library to it."

  "What does the tea room mean, precisely?" asked Miss Bradbury.

  "It means some dark, rich paper--probably red--on the walls, andlots of little tables all around, and the sweetest little Japaneseteapots--the kind you get at Mardine's for fifteen or twenty centson the bargain tables--and dainty teacups, and sugar and cream jugs,and little plates of thin wafers and crackers and sweet cakes, andmaybe sardines, because you have to have lemons anyway, for peoplethat take it in their tea; and I say lettuce for sandwiches in theseason when it's not too expensive, and, well, 'most anything daintyand good, such as you would get at a tea. And lanterns all around, andthe windows darkened with pretty warm, dark Japanesey curtains, so youcould have the lanterns lighted all the time. And Laura wants incensesticks, but I don't, because if any one burned those things where Iwas eating, I shouldn't be eating long. And then book shelves, and newnovels in them, and let people help themselves, and charge ten cents aweek, three books at a time twenty-five cents--oh, a regular duck of aplace!" said Happie in a breath, forestalling Margery.

  "A regular poll parrot of a place, I should say, if you are going infor ornithological comparisons, Happie," protested Miss Bradbury. "Howyou do run on! I don't think I understand. Are you intending to rent aroom, and furnish and carry it on in the way you describe--or rather inthe way
you sketchily outline?"

  "We wanted to do it, Aunt Keren," Margery answered for her sister. "Butwe didn't see any chance of getting enough out of it to warrant tryingit. Now, if mother were going to be sure of thirteen hundred a year--ifshe is strong enough to take half her old work--and Bob went to Mr.Felton at five dollars a week, then I think we girls could make up therest that we need for expenses. Gretta, we thought, would come downwith us for the winter, anyway, and help us in the tea room."

  "I am better able to go to the office every day than I am to feeltroubled," said Mrs. Scollard truly. "And really I am almost perfectlywell again; the Ark and this mountain air have saved me. I certainlyshall accept this offer."

  "And I will back the girls in this plan to be useful which they haveconcocted," said Miss Bradbury. "It is really not a bad plan, andperfectly feasible. And being their own plot it would be far betterto help them to carry it out, than to offer them a substitute for it.I'll tell you what I will do, Margery and Happie! I will make myselfresponsible for the rent of your tea room, and you may repay me ifI have to meet it, and that will leave the success wholly yours, ifsuccess it is to be. After the two first months it will have beentested sufficiently for us to judge."

  "Aunt Keren, you are the very best namesake--named-after-sake--a girlcould possibly have!" cried Happie in a rapture. "You don't know how welonged and burned to try this scheme, but we didn't see how we could doit without capital enough to pay the rent until we were on our feet.And now you say this! Bless you, bless you!" And Happie seized herfinancial sponsor, and name donor, around the neck in a hug that setthe dignified Miss Bradbury awry in collar, tie, and hair combs.

  Miss Bradbury adjusted these accessories with a protesting exclamationthat her face belied. She was not only getting used to Happie'sirruptiveness, but liking it. "Now I'll tell you something further,"she said. "In going about among various degrees and kinds of poorpeople in New York, I often come upon some one who has a room to rentor a lease to get rid of--sometimes a whole house. In the spring, inthe late winter, more correctly, I knew of a dear little, quiet widowwho had undertaken more than she could carry on in the matter ofrent. She had found a pretty shop, with two rooms above it which shehad taken for her dancing school. When I last heard of her she wantedto keep only the two rooms above stairs for the school, and to rentthe shop. If she should happen to be offering her place still--shewouldn't rent it except to the right tenants--it would be the verything for you, a pretty room, precisely the right size, with largewindows, and directly on the way to everywhere. More than that Mrs.Stewart would be there to look after you, and make your undertakingsafe from any doubtful or unpleasant features--she would chaperon youchildren. Charlotte, we could not let them open their tea-librarycombination without an older person to take care of them, could we?"

  "No, indeed; but you are all talking and planning so fast that Ican't follow you. It is perfectly safe to say I agree with that laststatement, but I'm not sure I agree to anything else," said Mrs.Scollard, looking as excited as her children, and far more bewildered.

  "That's all that is necessary just now, my dear," said Miss Bradbury."I think I will go to New York in the morning, see Mrs. Stewart, andget her prices for her shop, if she has it still."

  "Oh, Aunt Keren, no!" Margery protested. "You must not go to town justfor us. And how we are rushing on with our plan when we never reallydreamed that we could carry it out, either!"

  "I should not be going down just for that, Margaret," returned MissBradbury. "I intended going down in any case. I want to drum up guestsfor Thanksgiving Day--I thought I would bring Ralph and Snigs back withme."

  "Aunt Keren! And you say it so quietly!" cried Happie with her voicefull of admiration points. "We're having a Thanksgiving Day thismoment. It will be perfectly beyond-tellingly-glorious to have thosetwo boys up here now--especially that it looks like more snow!"

  "It will be delightful, dear Aunt Keren," said Margery, with her gentlesmile.

  "Delightful! Do hear how calmly she speaks, with that temperate, adultadjective!" cried Happie. "Don't leave off extravagant words, andspeak like a perfect lady yet, Peggy! There's so much time to be calmand grown-up! Though I suppose you would rather Aunt Keren asked someone else than our Patty-Pan boys!" And Happie glanced significantlyat a letter in Margery's hand; the fine, eccentric writing, and theBaltimore postmark had become familiar to the Ark. Through his lettersRobert Gaston, Margery's Bar Harbor friend, was winning her mother'srespect and liking.

  Margery smiled unperturbed, though with heightened color. "I shall bevery glad to see the boys, if they come," she said heartily.

  "Well, I must go find Gretta and tell her the news of the last hour,"said Happie rising with a sigh, for no other joy could assuage thepang this friendship of Margery's cost her whenever she remembered it"Robert Gaston is a telescope turned the wrong way," she declared,"He makes me see Peggy 'way off."

  "Just think," Happie added from the doorway. "An hour ago we werewithout prospects, and since then mother has had her letter, Aunt Kerenhas given us her blessing, and has promised to help us, and she isgoing down to-morrow to look up our room, and to bring up Ralph andSnigs! I never heard of such an eventful hour outside the theatre, andthere of course you watch years pass at a matinee. Won't Gretta and Bobbe dumbfounded? Don't you want to come with me, Margery, and hear thecrash when I break the news?"

  "Put that way I believe I must come," laughed Margery, as she followedher sister.

  There was no "crash" audible in the library where Miss Bradbury andMrs. Scollard lingered, but they heard a wild whoop from Bob, and thena clamor of voices as he and Gretta and Laura poured out questions, andMargery and Happie answered them as excitedly.

  "Dear Miss Keren, you are so good to me and my children!" said Mrs.Scollard, as she saw that Miss Keren was listening to the babel in theroom beyond in the highest satisfaction. "Think of all that we owe youalready! And now you offer to be responsible for the girls financially,and to let them try this scheme of theirs! I can't bring myself to thepoint of feeling less than guilty to allow you to do so much."

  "You may feel perfectly innocent, Charlotte, for I should do it inone form or another whether you would or no," affirmed Miss Bradbury.And when she said a thing she left little room for doubt that shemeant every word that she said. "I have certain plans tucked away inthe back of my head in regard to your children," she continued, "and Ishall certainly carry them out. Don't forget, Charlotte, that in allthe world there is no one who has the claim of kindred upon me; no onewith closer ties between us than bind me to you, my beloved friend'sdaughter, and to her grandchildren, your children. So I shall lookafter them as far as I can. So much for that part of it, and never letme hear you allude to obligations again! As to the rest, I am not,privately, especially sanguine about the success of the plan thesegirls have made, and yet it really is a good one, if their inexperienceand youth do not defeat it. I thoroughly approve of helping peopleto carry out their own ideas, however, and not in trying to forceone's own upon them. So--unless you had objected--I should like tobe responsible for the beginnings of the attempt, and let the girlsconsider what I expend as a debt to be repaid. I shall back them,Charlotte; that's all."

  "And enough," supplemented Mrs. Scollard. "A financial backer is styledan 'angel,' isn't he--in theatrical parlance? I begin to see why."

  Miss Bradbury departed in the early frosty morning of the next day.She was gone a week before she wrote announcing her return on the daybefore Thanksgiving. Not a word did she say of her errand, nor alludeto the coming of the Gordon boys. But just when Happie and Bob--andthe others of a lesser degree--were beginning to make up their mindsthat they were defrauded of all that would make the festival festal,and that their disappointment was too sharp to be borne, there camea telegram of but two words. "Boys coming. Keren-happuch," was theburden of the dispatch. There was but one conclusion possible: MissKeren-happuch was indulging in teasing.

  "Youth must be catching," remarked Happie, flying abou
t the room with afeather duster, for it was too late to use a cloth--there were a dozenthings to be done, and train time drawing on apace. "Aunt Keren wouldnever have played us a trick like this before she had had the benefitof living with five young Scollards."

  "You are Ralph's hostess this time, Gretta," said Laura. "Since he washere you have got the Ark."

  "That's so!" cried Bob. "Let's dress up Gretta and put her on a sort ofthrone in the corner, and bring Aunt Keren and both boys to pay homageto her as their hostess."

  "Well, I guess you won't!" cried Gretta, flushing at the bare idea ofsuch a thing.

  "Let's all dress up," cried Polly. "Let's look just as funny as we can,and stand in a row all across the steps when Bob drives up."

  "Why, that's a great idea, pretty Poll!" Happie approved her. "Thereisn't time--yes, we'll make time! Hurry up, Gretta; don't stop topolish that glass another minute! Come on up-stairs, and let's whiskthrough our work there in a jiffy. Then we'll make sights of ourselveswith all the old things we can find, and we'll put a big cambric collaron Dundee, and a white ribbon on Doree, and we'll all sing--what onearth is the best thing to sing when they arrive?"

  "Hail to the Chief," suggested Margery.

  "Who knows the tune?" demanded Happie. "No, that won't do. What's thebest tune? I'll make up words for it; there's no reason why Laurashould have a family monopoly of Odes on Great Occasions."

  "John Brown's Body--The Battle Hymn of the Republic--is the best tune Iknow when you want an awful noise, yet one that has a ring in it," saidBob.

  "Right you are, my Bobby!" cried Happie. "There's nothing else hasthe swing and rush of that air. Let's see!" She began to hum the airrapidly as she switched the cover off the dresser in Bob's room, whichboth the Gordons were to share with him. "This will do!" she announced."Give me something to write on; lend me your pencil, Bob!" She snatchedup a box cover, scribbled hastily for a few moments, scratching out atintervals, but not much, and when she had finished read her effusionto the others.

  "You're all right, Happie!" said Bob with as much heartiness in hiscommendation as the Academie Francaise could have shown in crowning apoem, if with less elegance. "You sing that when we drive up, the wholecrowd of you in a row, and you'll make a hit. Now I've got to hurry offand harness, or I'll keep them waiting."

  An hour later the hit was made. Margery and Gretta were almost ofequal height; they headed the line, Margery in a sheet and pillow casecostume, like a ghost; Gretta attired in a bright blue wrapper, with apatchwork quilt worn as a shawl, and her pink sunbonnet on her head,hastily trimmed with all sorts of artificial flowers in various stagesof nearly falling off. Happie was a bride, pinned into window curtains,and with an old lace curtain for an impressive veil that trailed twofeet, at the least, behind her. Laura wore a long velvet skirt of hermother's, over which she had draped a diaphanous blue scarf, and thisfestive costume ended in a full evening dress waist, which bore asuspicious resemblance to an old shirt waist, with the neck and sleevescut out. But Laura flattered herself that her costume, at least, wasimpressive; she was reluctant to appear grotesque, even for fun.

  Polly's round and serious face was the only thing visible above agreat coat of fur which had been discovered in Miss Bradbury's closet,and which enveloped plump Polly from head to heels. Penny wore one ofMargery's discarded dancing gowns which had not survived the summer atBar Harbor. Over it Margery had pinned a Martha Washington kerchief,and without plan or seeking the result hoped for by Laura had beenattained for Penelope--she was as picturesque as possible.

  Don Dolor came up the driveway with a flourish. It proved him of asettled and sane mind that he did not rear or plunge as he faced thisgraduated line of funny figures, with beautiful Dundee in the frontrank, waving his plume-like tail, and smiling with distended jaws as hebarked wildly over a wide collar of white cambric, which he wore aroundhis neck like a harlequin.

  Miss Bradbury beamed at the group, evidently very glad to see herfamily again, from her collie up--or down, for Dundee had taken himselfand his collar to the top step, whence he was barking more madly thanbefore as Don Dolor stopped. Ralph and Snigs threw up their hatsnoiselessly; they would undoubtedly have cheered had not Bob warnedthem to be quiet, and to listen to their paean of welcome. At the topsof their voices, but in harmony, for Gretta sang alto, and Laura wasequal to sustaining a true tenor, the girls sang Happie's words to theair of The Battle Hymn of the Republic.

  "Behold the glad Archaics in their Ararat array; They have stolen Mrs. Japhet's clothes (and Shem's and Ham's) away; They're glad to see their animals come back for holiday: Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!

  "The solid ground beneath our feet is good--we've floated long. But Ararat is high and dry, and we have anchored strong; We're grateful this Thanksgiving tide, and so we sing this song: Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!"