by Myrtle Reed
VIII
A Fairy Godmother
[Sidenote: The Postponed Visit]
As cool and fresh as the June morning of which she seemed a veritablepart, Miss Eloise Wynne, immaculately clad in white linen, opened thelittle grey gate. It was a week later than she had promised to come, butshe had not been idle, and considered herself justified for the delay.
Miriam opened the door for her and introduced Barbara. Eloise smiledradiantly as she offered a smooth, well-kept hand. "I know I'm late,"she said, "but I think you'll forgive me for it a little later on.I want to see all the lingerie--every piece you have to sell."
"Would you mind coming upstairs?" asked Barbara.
"No, indeed."
The two went up, Barbara slowly leading the way. Miriam remaineddownstairs to make sure that the blind man did not come in unexpectedlyand overhear things which he would be much happier not to know.
"What a lot of it," Eloise was saying. "And what a wonderful old chest."
[Sidenote: Dainty Wares]
Trembling with excitement, Barbara spread forth her dainty wares. Eloisewas watching her narrowly, and, with womanly intuition, saw the direneed and the courageous spirit struggling against it.
"Just a minute, please," said Barbara; "I'd better tell you now. Myfather is blind and he does not know we are poor, nor that I make thesethings to sell. He thinks that they are for myself and that I am veryvain. So, if he should come home while you are here, please do not spoilour little deceit."
Barbara lifted her luminous blue eyes to Eloise and smiled. It was abrave little smile without a hint of self-pity, and it went straight tothe older woman's heart.
"I'll be careful," said Eloise. "I think it's dear of you."
"Now," said Barbara, stooping to peer into the corners of the deepchest, "I think that's all." She began, hurriedly, to price everythingas she passed it to Eloise, giving the highest price each time. When shehad finished, she was amazed at Miss Wynne's face--it was so full ofresentment.
"Do you mean to tell me," asked Eloise, in a queer voice, "that you areasking _that_ for _these_?"
The blue eyes threatened to overflow, but Barbara straightened herselfproudly. "It is all hand work," she said, with quiet dignity, "and thematerial is the very best. I could not possibly afford to sell it forless."
"You goose," laughed Eloise, "you have misunderstood me. There is not athing here that is not worth at least a third more than you are askingfor it. Give me a pencil and paper and some pins."
[Sidenote: Higher Prices]
Barbara obeyed, wondering what this beautiful visitor would do next.Eloise took up every garment and examined it critically. Then she made anew price tag and pinned it over the old one. She advanced even theplainest garments at least a third, the more elaborate ones weredoubled, and some of the embroidered things were even tripled in price.When she came to the shirtwaist patterns, exquisitely embroidered uponsheerest handkerchief linen, she shamelessly multiplied the price byfour and pinned the new tag on.
"Oh," gasped Barbara; "nobody will ever pay that much for things towear."
"Somebody is going to right now," announced Eloise, with decision. "I'lltake this, and this, and this," she went on, rapidly choosing, "andthese, and these, and this. I'll take those four for a friend of minewho is going to be married next week--this solves the eternal problem ofwedding-presents--and all of these for next Santa Claus time.
"I can use all the handkerchiefs, and every pin-cushion cover andcorsage-pad you've made. Please don't sell anything else until I'veheard from some more of my friends to whom I have already written. Andyou're not to offer one of these exquisite things to thoseunappreciative people at the hotel, for I have a letter from a friendwho is on the Board of Directors of the Woman's Exchange, and got achance for you to sell there. How long have you been doing this?"
[Sidenote: In a Whirl of Confusion]
"Seven or eight years," murmured Barbara. Her senses were so confusedthat the room seemed to be whirling and her face was almost as white asthe lingerie.
"And those women at the hotel would really buy these things at suchridiculous prices?"
"Not often," answered Barbara, trying to smile. "They would not pay somuch. Sometimes we had to sell for very little more than the cost of thematerial. One woman said we ought not to expect so much for things thatwere not made with a sewing-machine, but of course, Aunt Miriam had beento the city and she knew that hand work was worth more."
"I wish I'd been there," remarked Eloise. There was a look around hermouth which would have boded no good to anybody if she had. "When I seewhat brutes women can be, sometimes I am ashamed because I am a woman."
"And," returned Barbara, softly, "when I see what good angels women canbe, it makes me proud to be a woman."
"Where do you get your material?" asked Eloise, quickly.
Barbara named the large department store where Aunt Miriam bought linen,lawn, batiste, lace, patterns, and incidentally managed to absorb ideas.
"I see I'm needed in Riverdale-by-the-Sea," observed Miss Wynne. "I canarrange for you to buy all you want at the lowest wholesale price."
"Would it save anything?" asked Barbara, doubtfully.
[Sidenote: Practical Help]
"Would it?" repeated Eloise, smiling. "Just wait and see. After I'vewritten about that and had some samples sent to you, we'll talk overhalf a dozen or more complete sets of lingerie for me, and some moreshirtwaists. Is there a pen downstairs? I want to write a check foryou."
When they went into the living-room, Barbara's cheeks were burning withexcitement and her eyes shone like stars. When she took the check, whichEloise wrote with an accustomed air, she could scarcely speak, butmanaged to stammer out, "Thank you."
"You needn't," said Eloise, coolly, "for I'm only buying what I want ata price I consider very reasonable and fair. If you'll get some samplesof your work ready, I'll send up for them, and hurry them on to myfriend who is to put them into the Woman's Exchange. And please don'tsell anything more just now. I've just thought of a friend whosedaughter is going to be married soon, and she may want me to select somethings for her."
"You're a fairy godmother," said Barbara. "This morning we were poor anddiscouraged. You came in and waved your wand, and now we are rich. I haveheart for anything now."
[Sidenote: Always Rich]
"You are always rich while you have courage, and without it Croesushimself would be poor. It's not the circumstance, remember--it's the wayyou meet it."
"I know," said Barbara, but her eyes filled with tears of gratitude,nevertheless.
Ambrose North came in from the street, and immediately felt the presenceof a stranger in the room. "Who is here?" he asked.
"This is Miss Wynne, Father. She is stopping at the hotel and came up tocall."
The old man bowed in courtly fashion over the young woman's hand. "Weare glad to see you," he said, gently. "I am blind, but I can see withmy soul."
"That is the true sight," returned Eloise. Her big brown eyes were softwith pity.
"Have many of the guests come?" he inquired.
"I have a friend," laughed Eloise, "who says it is wrong to call people'guests' when they are stopping at a hotel. He insists that 'inmates' isa much better word."
"He is not far from right," said the old man, smiling. "Is he therenow?"
"No, he comes down Saturday mornings and stays until Monday morning.That is all the vacation he allows himself. You are fortunate to livehere," she added, kindly. "I do not know of a more beautiful place."
[Sidenote: Invited to Luncheon]
"Nor I. To us--to me, especially--it is hallowed by memories. We--youwill stay to luncheon, will you not, Miss Wynne?"
Eloise glanced quickly at Barbara. "If you only would," she said.
"If you really want me," said Eloise, "I'd love to." She took off herhat--a white one trimmed with lilacs--and smoothed the waves in hercopper-coloured hair. Barbara took her crutches and went out, veryquietly, to help A
unt Miriam prepare for the guest.
When the kitchen door was safely closed, Barbara's joy bubbled intospeech. "Oh, Aunt Miriam," she cried; "she's bought nearly every thingI had and paid almost double price for it. She's already arranged forme to sell at the Woman's Exchange in the city, and she is going towrite to some of her friends about the things I have left. She's goingto arrange for me to get all my material at the lowest wholesale price,and she's ordered six complete sets of lingerie for herself. She wantssome more shirtwaists, too. Oh, Aunt Miriam, do you think the world iscoming to an end?"
"Has she paid you?" queried Miriam, gravely.
"Indeed she has."
"Then it probably is."
Miriam was not a woman easily to be affected by joy, but the hard linesof her face softened perceptibly. "Show her the quilts," she suggested.
"Oh, Aunt Miriam, I'd be ashamed to, to-day, when she's bought so much.She'll be coming up again before long--she said so. And father's askedher to luncheon."
"Just like him," commented Miriam, with a sigh. "He always suffered fromhospitality. I'll have to go to the store."
[Sidenote: The Best We Have]
"No, you won't, Aunty--she's not that sort. We'll give her the best wehave, with a welcome thrown in."
If Eloise thought it strange for one end of the table to be set withsolid silver, heavy damask, and fine china, while the other end, whereshe and the two women of the house sat, was painfully different, shegave no sign of it in look or speech. The humble fare might have beenthe finest banquet so far as she was concerned. She fitted herself totheir ways without apparent effort; there was no awkwardness nor feelingof strangeness. She might have been a life-long friend of the family,instead of a passing acquaintance who had come to buy lingerie.
[Sidenote: Friendly Conversation]
As she ate, she talked. It was not aimless chatter, but the rare gift ofconversation. She drew them all out and made them talk, too. Even Miriamrelaxed and said something more than "yes" and "no."
"What delicious preserves," said Eloise. "May I have some more, please?Where do you get them?"
"I make them," answered Miriam, the dull red rising in her cheeks. Shehad not been entirely disinterested when she climbed up on a chair andtook down some of her choicest fruit from the highest shelf of thestore-room.
"Do you--" A look from Barbara stopped the unlucky speech. "Do you findit difficult?" asked Eloise, instantly mistress of the situation. "Ishould so love to make some for myself."
"Miriam will be glad to teach you," put in Ambrose North. "She likes todo it because she can do it so well."
The red grew deeper in Miriam's lined face, for every word of praisefrom him was food to her hungry soul. She would gladly have laid downher life for him, even though she hated herself for feeling as she did.
[Sidenote: An Hour of Song]
Afterward, while Miriam was clearing off the table, Eloise went to thepiano without being asked, and sang to them for more than an hour. Shechose folk-songs and tender melodies--little songs made of tears andlaughter, and the simple ballads that never grow old. She had a deep,vibrant contralto voice of splendid range and volume; she sang with raresympathy, and every word could be clearly understood.
"Don't stop," pleaded Barbara, when she paused and ran her fingerslightly over the keys.
"I don't want to impose upon your good-nature," she returned, "but I loveto sing."
"And we love to have you," said North. "I think, Barbara, we must get anew piano."
"I wouldn't," answered Eloise, before Barbara could speak. "The yearsimprove wine and violins and friendship, so why not a piano?" Withoutwaiting for his reply, she began to sing, with exquisite tenderness:
"Sometimes between long shadows on the grass The little truant waves of sunlight pass; Mine eyes grow dim with tenderness the while, Thinking I see thee, thinking I see thee smile.
"And sometimes in the twilight gloom apart The tall trees whisper, whisper heart to heart; From my fond lips the eager answers fall, Thinking I hear thee, thinking I hear thee call."
"Yes," said Ambrose North, unsteadily, as the last chord died away, "Iknow. You can call and call, but nothing ever comes back to you." Thetears streamed over his blind face as he rose and went out of the room.
"What have I done?" asked Eloise. "Oh, what have I done?"
"Nothing," sighed Barbara. "My mother has been dead for twenty-oneyears, but my father never forgets. She was only a girl when shedied--like me."
"I'm so sorry. Why didn't you tell me before, so I could have chosenjolly, happy things?"
"That wouldn't keep him from grieving--nothing can, so don't be troubledabout it."
Eloise turned back to the piano and sang two or three rollicking,laughing melodies that set Barbara's one foot to tapping on the floor,but the old man did not come back.
"I never meant to stay so long," said Eloise, rising and putting on herhat.
"It isn't long," returned Barbara, with evident sincerity. "I wish youwouldn't go."
"But I must, my dear. If I don't go, I can never come again. I have lotsof letters to write, and mail will be waiting for me, and I have somestudying to do, so I must go."
[Sidenote: Adieus]
Barbara went to the door with her. "Good-bye, Fairy Godmother," shesaid, wistfully.
"Good-bye, Fairy Godchild," answered Eloise, carelessly. Then somethingin the girl's face impelled her to put a strong arm around Barbara, andkiss her, very tenderly. The blue eyes filled with tears.
"Thank you for that," breathed Barbara, "more than for anything else."
* * * * *
Eloise went away humming to herself, but she stopped as soon as she wasout of sight of the house. "The little thing," she thought; "the dear,brave little thing! A face like an angel, and that cross old woman, andthat beautiful old man who sees with his soul. And all that exquisitework and the prices those brutal women paid her for it. Blind and lame,and nothing to be done."
Then another thought made her brown eyes very bright. "But I'm not sosure of that--we'll see."
[Sidenote: A Request]
She wrote many letters that afternoon, and all were for Barbara. Thelast and longest was to Doctor Conrad, begging him to come at the firstpossible moment and go with her to see a poor broken child who might bemade well and strong and beautiful.
"And," the letter went on, "perhaps you could give her father back hiseyesight. She calls me her Fairy Godmother, and I rely upon you to keepmy proud position for me. Any way, Allan, dear, please come, won't you?"
[Sidenote: Awaiting Results]
She closed it with a few words which would have made him start for theKlondike that night, had there been a train, and she asked it of him;posted it, and hopefully awaited results.
