CHAPTER XXII. SOMETHING DOES HAPPEN
"I hope something will happen so I can't go to Poketown," was thethought continually rising to the surface of the troubled pool ofJanice Day's mind.
She did not know what Mrs. Carringford had said to daddy, nor howmuch he had been influenced by that wise woman's observationsregarding this very matter. So, as the days went by, Janicecontinued to fear the worst.
For the very worst that could happen, Janice thought, was for herto be separated from her father and from her home. When thepossibility of his having to go to Mexico was first talked about,the thought of their separation had made a very deep impressionon the girl's mind. She had never recovered--how could she?--from the going away of her mother. If her father went out ofher life too, it seemed to Janice as though she would be anorphan indeed.
So, without knowing anything personally about her Aunt Almira orUncle Jason or Marty, her cousin, the girl felt that theirassociation could in no way replace that of daddy.
"I just wish something would happen so that I couldn't go toPoketown," was repeated over and over in her thought.
"Perhaps that is wicked," Janice told herself. "But wicked, ornot, it does seem as though it would just kill me to leave home."
After Mrs. Carringford had finished cleaning house, the homeseemed so much better and brighter that Janice loved it more thanever. She did not want to leave Eight Hundred and Forty-fiveKnight Street, even for a day.
"I don't care if Arlo Junior does toll cats into our back kitchenand we entertain dancing bears and that half-crazy Delia andfolks like Mrs. Watkins or Olga Cedarstrom," she said to daddy."This is just the nicest house in all the world. Don't you thinkso yourself, Daddy?"
"I never expect to have so much happiness in another house as Ihave had in this one, my dear," Mr. Day said. "And we will hopefor more happiness here in the future. But my little girl mustnot try to do everything. It is all right to be a homemaker; butyou must not try to do it all yourself. We must find somebody tohelp, regularly."
Secretly Janice was urging Mrs. Carringford to come every day tothe house and keep it in that "neat as a new pin" condition inwhich the sweet-natured woman had left it when the extra cleaningwas finished.
"But my dear child, how will my own house get along without me?Amy cannot do it all, even if it is vacation-time."
"But, dear Mrs. Carringford, just think!" begged Janice. "Kateand Sydney are both big enough to help Amy."
"And they are a team!" sighed Mrs. Carringford.
"They'll be good. They will do a good deal for me," said Janicefrankly.
"You bribe the twins."
"Oh, they are only teeny, weeny bribes, and of course childrenexpect pay when they do things for you. Look how eagerly Gummyworks for his pay," for Gummy was working every day for Mr.Harriman now, and his wages had been doubled.
"Don't let him hear you catalogue him as a child," said the boy'smother, smiling. "I must do nothing to neglect my own brood.Yet I feel that I must earn money. Gummy's wages will not evenfeed us. And it will last only until September. He must go backto school again then."
"Then come and see daddy," urged Janice. "You know he'll be morethan glad to have you. Why, it would be just heavenly for us.
"I must think about it," said the over-urged woman. "If I couldget work in a store downtown I would have more regular hoursperhaps. For a home cannot be kept on an eight-hour-a-dayschedule."
But Janice hoped. To do something to bring about peace andcomfort for daddy and herself had been her determination forweeks. If only Mrs. Carringford could be coaxed to agree, Janiceforesaw plain sailing.
This had been her hope ever since she had seen how perfectlyAmy's mother kept her own poor cottage. It had been her hopewhen she had first brought Mrs. Carringford and Mr. Day together.But would her hope come to fruition?
Nevertheless, she was happier now that she did not have to go toschool. She had time to work out of doors in the flowerbeds andto get dainty little suppers, sometimes, for daddy.
Yet, at other times she was very tired. She showed daddy acheerful countenance almost always. But there were occasionswhen Janice Day felt anything but cheerful "inside," as sheexpressed it.
Somehow daddy seemed to guess, however, when she was not quiteherself during these sultry days, for often at breakfast he said:
"Daughter, dress yourself in your best bib and tucker and meet meat the corner of Joyce Street at four-thirty. I'll be on theMaplewood car and will save a seat for you. We will go out tothe Branch Inn for supper."
Such excursions delighted Janice, especially with daddy. It madeher feel positively grown up to be taken about by such awell-groomed and handsome man as Broxton Day.
And almost everywhere they went people seemed to know daddy.Even the managers and waiters at the inns and restaurants knewhim, for Mr. Day often attended business conferences andluncheons with the bank's customers, at these places.
Sometimes very well dressed men came and sat down at their tableand talked business with Broxton Day. They were always very kindand polite to Janice.
But whenever she heard Mexico and the Mexican mines mentioned,the girl was worried and listened attentively. She knew thatthose properties down beyond the Rio Grande in which her fatherwas interested so deeply, were still in a very uncertain state.As yet dividends from her father's investment, she knew, had beenvery small.
She thought daddy watched her very closely at times. His keenglance seemed almost like that of a person "lying in wait" forone. That was the way Janice expressed it to herself.
She did not understand what these looks meant. Did he doubt thatshe was really quite as cheerful and happy as she would appear?
On her own part, after she had gone to bed, Janice Day listenedoften for his step, to and fro, hour after hour, on thehoneysuckle-sheltered porch. Was he thinking about the lostletters? Would neither he nor his daughter ever be able to getover--to forget-- the mementoes of dear mother, and theirdisappearance with Olga Cedarstrom?
Janice often cried herself to sleep thinking of this loss. Butshe cried quietly so that daddy should not hear her; and she wasalways very careful in the morning to remove all traces of tearsor sleeplessness before appearing in his presence at thebreakfast table.
"What's been done to-day, daughter?" was often daddy's questionat night, accompanied by one of his keenly interrogating glances.
When she catalogued the day's industries sometimes he shook hishead.
"But where is the fun? When do you play? What have you beendoing to celebrate your freedom from the scholastic yoke?" hewould demand.
"We-ell, you know, Daddy, I can't be a gadabout all the time--andwith Miss Peckham watching me from behind her blinds every time Igo out," and she giggled.
"Miss Peckham be eternally-- Hem! I don't suppose I can usestrong language in regard to the lady who has washed her hands ofus, can I?"
"Not very strong language, Daddy," she rejoined, laughing aloudnow.
"Well, in that case, we'll merely ignore our neighbor. That meansyou, too, Janice; and you must play a little more in spite ofMiss Peckham."
"But, Daddy, I do play, as you call it. There was the picnic inEmmon's Woods, and the straw ride to Clewitt--"
"And the picnic on the Latham farm to which I found you did notgo," interrupted daddy. "How about that, daughter?"
"Oh--oh--well, you know, Daddy, I--I--"
"What's all this stammering about, honey," asked daddy, puttinghis arm about his daughter.
"Daddy, Amy and I just couldn't go to that picnic. Of course, itwas not given by Stella, but by all the boys and girls of ourcrowd, but it was on Stella's farm. And-- Well, Daddy, Stelladoesn't really like Amy and me just now. It's nothing--justabout that dress Amy wore to Stella's party. I told you allabout that. Stella promised not to tell, you know, and then shedid. I'm not mad at Stella--I was, though, for a while--butshe's still mad at me. She'll be all right in a little while,though, Daddy.
"
"I trust so, daughter. Do your best to make friends again. Youwill all be happier if you are on a friendly footing with yourcompanions."
These first days of the long vacation were not really happy onesfor Janice, although she tried to make believe they were. Allthe time she was hoping to herself that daddy would not insist onher visiting his relatives in the East.
He had not really said that he contemplated sending herwilly-nilly, to Aunt Almira. Yet the girl felt that daddybelieved her health called for a change. And that was not whatshe needed. She was sure that the air of Poketown would never inthis world make her feel any happier or healthier than she feltright here at home in Greensboro.
"I just hope something will happen to keep me from going toPoketown--or anywhere else," Janice repeated, over and overagain.
And then, it did happen. Nothing that she had imagined, ofcourse.
And this happening shocked Janice Day almost as much as anythingcould. It came in the afternoon, when she was getting dinner fordaddy. She heard the clang of a gong, and an automobile stoppedbefore the house. She ran to the window. It was a white paintedambulance-- not from the City Hospital, but a private ambulance.And two men in white uniforms were preparing to take somebody ona stretcher out of the car.
Janice Day, the Young Homemaker Page 22
