CHAPTER VI
CLAIMED AND CALLED FOR
In the wake of the grinning black porter, Caroline stumbled out of thedrawing-room. She had only a few steps to take through the narrowpassage to the vestibule, and in those few steps she hadn't time enoughto reconsider, and call up her courage and run back to Jacqueline, witha refusal to go on with this naughty deception. She had time only tofeel, in Jacqueline's finery, like the poor little old woman in thenursery-song:
Lawkamussy on me, This can't be I!
Then she stood in the swaying, cinder-powdered vestibule. Through theopen door she saw the dark red walls of a country station creeping byand people hurrying to be alongside the steps when the car should stop.Strange people--hundreds of people, they seemed to her. Oh, she wantedher half-aunt--she even wanted the cows! Jacqueline's Great-aunt Eunicewould be terrible. She would know at once that Caroline was a littlefraud. She would send her away to an Institution.
But now there was no turning back. The train had stopped. The porter hadleaped nimbly off. A stout man in the vestibule behind Caroline wasbumping her silken calves with his heavy bag, and fuming at her forblocking the way. Caroline clutched Mildred tight to the bosom ofJacqueline's henna-colored frock, and scrambled down the steep steps ofthe car. She was glad that the porter steadied her with a hand on herarm. She felt so sick and dizzy that she could scarcely see.
A tall lady was beside her instantly. In the strong sunlight of thestation platform, so different from the stuffy dusk of the train,Caroline could not make out her features but she had an impression ofwhite clothes and she caught the scent of violets.
"This is Jacqueline, isn't it?" the lady said, in a clear, low voice.
Caroline nodded, blinking between tears and sun-blindness.
"You're Great-aunt Eunice?" she faltered.
"No, my dear," said the low voice, with a ripple of laughter in it."She's waiting over there in the car. Bring along her things, Frank.Come quickly, Jacqueline! Let's get out of this frightful press."
The stout man had bumped the lady with his clumsy bag, and his gruff"Beg pardon!" did not seem in the least to mollify her. She put hergloved hand on Caroline's shoulder and hurried her away across the wideplatform, with its pillared red roof.
In the shade of the elm trees at the other side of the platform astately limousine was parked among humbler touring cars and sedans. Astout elderly lady looked eagerly from the window.
One desperate glance Caroline cast behind her. She saw a self-assuredsmall figure, in a scant brown and white gingham dress, propel itselfdown the car steps, behind a big shabby suitcase. She saw asquarely-built woman in an old straw hat hurrying toward the car steps,and she saw the little figure cast itself into her arms. Jacqueline hadtaken possession of half-aunt Martha.
Caroline had no chance to see more, for now she was at the side of thelimousine.
"Mother, here's Jacqueline," said the lady in white, who was evidentlyJacqueline's Cousin Penelope. "This is Aunt Eunice, Jacqueline."
The old lady, who wore gray clothes and had pretty white hair, noddedand smiled at Caroline from her cozy seat. But Caroline, all confusionand on the verge of tears, had no time to greet her, for Cousin Penelopeasked just then for the trunk-check.
"It's here--in my bag," quavered Caroline, as she struggled with theunfamiliar clasp of Jacqueline's vanity bag.
"Do help her, Penelope. She's tired out, poor little mite," said AuntEunice.
Cousin Penelope took the bag in her brisk way, and opened it. She made aqueer little face, as she saw the very grown-up small vials andpowder-puff inside, but she said nothing. By instinct, probably, sheopened the little purse and took out the trunk-check and gave it to herchauffeur, who came up at that moment with the hand-luggage.
"Tell them to send the trunk up by express," she bade him. "Jump in,Jacqueline. We'll be away from this wretched hot station in a couple ofminutes now."
Caroline stepped gingerly into the limousine. With its cool grayupholstery, its little side-pockets full of bottles and notebooks, itshanging crystal vase of marguerites, it seemed to her a little palace onwheels. She sank upon the cushions with a sigh of relief.
"You _are_ tired, you poor little thing," said Aunt Eunice. "Now justrest. We won't trouble you with questions about the journey. You're heresafe--that's all that really matters."
Caroline nestled back in her seat and hugged Mildred to her. The trainthat had sheltered her had pulled out of the station. Jacqueline, herdear and dangerous friend of twenty-four hours, was gone. She hadnothing left but Mildred.
Cousin Penelope stepped into the car in a regal manner. Her dress was ofsoft shimmery white, and she wore a sweater coat of mauve silk, and awhite hat with a mauve silk scarf about the crown. A faint scent ofviolets breathed from her when she moved. Why, she wasn't old like AuntEunice, as Jacqueline had said she would be. She was young--not soyoung, perhaps, as Caroline's beloved Sunday School teacher, but stillyoung, and such a pretty lady!
Frank, the well-trained chauffeur, came at a military gait across thesunny station platform. He closed the door of the car, then stepped tohis seat. A moment later the great car glided--oh, so smoothly andsoftly!--away from the platform and under the elms of the station parkinto a wide street where two-story brick buildings cast long shadows inthe late afternoon light.
"Where are we going?" Caroline wondered. "Oh, I hope it's ever so far.If I could only sit here with Mildred forever and ever."
Cousin Penelope pulled up a window.
"I _know_ the air is too much for you, Mother," she said crisply.
Aunt Eunice seemed rather to sigh but she offered no protest.
"By the way, Jacqueline," Cousin Penelope turned to Caroline who satbetween the two ladies, "I didn't see that Miss Fisher, who was to lookafter you from Chicago. I wished of course to thank her."
"She got off at Pittsfield," Caroline managed to find her tongue.
"Indeed!" said Cousin Penelope in an icy voice. What things she couldevidently have said to Miss Fisher!
"And left you to travel by yourself?" cried Aunt Eunice. "No wondershe's tired and upset, Penelope, all alone like that."
"I--I played with a little girl," explained Caroline, "and I always haveMildred."
"Is that your dolly's name?" Aunt Eunice asked quickly.
Caroline nodded.
Aunt Eunice patted her hand with her soft plump palm.
"It's nice to see a little girl that loves dolls," she said. "Not manyof them do, nowadays."
She smiled at Caroline, and Caroline, looking up at her, smiled back. Itdidn't matter whether she were Jacqueline or Caroline--she knew that shewas going to like Aunt Eunice.
The Turned-About Girls Page 7
