CHAPTER XVII.--MRS. RUGGLES.
Breakfast was late next morning, and there were some heavy eyes at thepretty table. Belle was pale and nervous, and Mary, too, wore an anxiouslook on her face. Even the plump and jovial Mrs. St. Clair was not quiteherself. Her eyes had a puzzled, absent-minded expression, as if shewere trying to remember something that had almost faded out of hermemory. But she forced herself to smile and talk with her young guests,and only the Motor Maids really noticed her abstraction.
"What do you intend to do to-day, Percival, dearest?" she asked her son.
"Don't you remember, mother, that Billie is to take some of us and theside-seated wagon the others over to Mrs. Ruggles? I wrote her to expectus by two this afternoon, and we'll be hungry enough by then to eateverything in sight."
"Who is Mrs. Ruggles?" asked Billie, who was not yet familiar withvarious picturesque and interesting characters living around West Haven.
"Wait until you see her," replied Mrs. St. Clair. "She is a queer oldwoman, but she has a great many friends and you can't help liking her,and her food--dear me, you never imagined such meals as she can get up."
"Now, don't go and give things away, mother," remonstrated Percy. "Theothers have all met Mrs. Ruggles, but Billie hasn't and neither has MissAlta, and we might as well give them a little surprise."
"It seems to me that West Haven is full of surprises," observed Billie."Papa and I used to wander about the world together like two vagabonds,but in all that time we never had so many adventures and excitements asI have had here."
"Well, there won't be any excitement about this trip," said Percy. "It'sjust a ride across the country to the shore, one grand, large meal, andthen home again in time for another feed, and you'll all be ready forbed."
It was arranged for those who were to drive to start well ahead of theothers in the "handicap race," as Percy called it, in order to get toMrs. Ruggles' at the same time. The Motor Maids went in "The Comet" withtheir particular friends, which was tacitly agreed upon, and Roly PolyMcLane drove with Belle and Fannie and three boys in the St. Clairtrim-looking depot wagon. They were not even to take the same road asthe motor car, but were to go by a short cut over a road too sandy forautomobiles.
Mrs. St. Clair, who was not to be in the party, inspected each girl withmotherly interest before the start. She appeared to have an endlessstore of wraps, ulsters, sweaters and fur coats, veils and scarfs, whichshe bundled on her guests without the slightest regard for sex or size.
"Young people never know how to keep warm," she said. "Especially girls.They always think warm clothing is unbecoming, when really nothing ismore unbecoming than purple noses and blue lips. Percival, my darling,don't you think you'll need your ear muffs?"
"No, mother," answered her son firmly, "not on the first of November."
"Oh, I implore you, my son; I entreat you," cried the importunate woman,and Percy, with admirable patience permitted her to slip them on hisears, though he promptly removed them when the motor car had turned intothe road and he could no longer see his mother waving her handkerchief.
"I must look remarkably like Dr. Cook," he said, laughing, as he removedsome of the layers of wraps and scarfs his mother had loaded him with.
"The Comet" was in splendid trim that morning.
"He gets cranky and unmanageable exactly like a human being," Billie hadoften said about him, but to-day he appeared almost to take humanenjoyment in the long stretch of hard-beaten road and the crisp autumnair.
"Does this mysterious Mrs. Ruggles live in a palace or a hut?" askedBillie, after a while, her curiosity increasing as the salty breezestraight from the ocean reminded her that they were approaching thecoast.
"It's a little of both," replied Percy.
"She's a queen, herself, Mrs. Ruggles is," put in Ben.
"I believe she thinks she is one, really," said Elinor. "If she doesn'tlike a person, she almost says, 'Off with his head.'"
"But I thought you said she was a cook?"
"She is," answered Merry. "She's a queenly cook and a cookly queen."
"You are all a lot of crack-brained, foolish people," exclaimed Billie,exasperated. "I feel as if 'The Comet' couldn't take me fast enough tosatisfy my curiosity about Mrs. Ruggles."
She put on the third speed and the red motor took to the course like ayoung race horse as he rounds the curve toward home. It was a long andrather chilly ride before they reached the abode of Mrs. Ruggles. Theyoung people found themselves buttoning their wraps around them quitegratefully and snuggling down in the car.
"Here we are," said Percy, at last.
Billie stopped the car and examined with much curiosity a quaint oldhouse, rather tumbled down at second glance, but with an air of comfortabout it that no amount of disrepair could overcome.
Smoke was pouring out of the middle chimney and the reflection on thesmall window panes indicated that there was a roaring fire in the frontroom.
What the place looked like on the inside was nothing more nor less thanan old Spanish inn. Billie did not know this because she had never seenone, but the room reminded her vaguely of something very romantic andpicturesque, and what was most curious about the place was that theoutside seemed to have no connection whatever with the inside. They werenot even related to each other by distant kinship. Outside were thedignified gray walls and gabled windows of an old seashore house. Theinside appeared to be one very large room. The uneven floor was pavedwith red tile and in a big stone fireplace at one end burned an enormousfire of driftwood. From the blackened rafters hung garlands of redpeppers, bunches of herbs and strings of onions and garlic. Shiningcopper vessels were ranged on shelves and around two sides of the roomran a gallery with steps leading up from one end.
"Am I in a dream," cried Billie. "I feel as if I had been transportedsomewhere suddenly."
"Isn't it fascinating?" said Elinor. "The old house has been in Mrs.Ruggles' family for two hundred years. It used to be a sort of sailors'inn, and there are many stories connected with it. But here she comesherself. She's just as wonderful as her house."
Mrs. Ruggles was certainly a remarkable figure. She was very tall, oneof the tallest women Billie had ever seen, with coal black hair, shinydark eyes, rather too close together, a beaked eagle nose, and a verydetermined mouth, with a slightly humorous curve to the lips, whichsoftened her somewhat stern face.
She wore a most outlandish dress for that part of the world, of stripedred and black cotton, but she was scrupulously clean, and the coarsecotton kerchief tied around her neck was as white as snow. Her stockingsalso were white, and she wore men's low shoes of enormous size, even fora woman of her height.
The boys and girls all shook hands with her as if she were an oldfriend. She called them by their first names and when she was introducedto Billie she gave her a long, keen look that seemed to read the younggirl's most hidden and secret thoughts. She walked with an erectcarriage and majestic tread, and Billie had a feeling that she had beenintroduced to a personage.
"She's a great old girl," said Merry Brown, when Mrs. Ruggles haddisappeared into the back regions of the house to finish cooking thedinner. "She can sail a boat as well as anybody along this coast. Shefishes, digs for clams, catches lobsters in traps, and does all thethings the fishermen around here do and more, too, because she is thejim dandiest cook in the county."
"Hasn't she any husband or family?" asked Billie.
"She was married twice. Ruggles, the second husband, was an Irishman. Hewas a fine fellow, a sea captain, but he died long ago. Her children arefloating about the country somewhere."
"What was her name before she married? Nothing like Ruggles, I am sure."
"No, it was Sabater. Mrs. Ruggles' father was captain of a schoonerwhich carried freight up and down the coast. They say her grandfatherwas a great old fighter and came near being hanged as a spy by bothsides in the Revolution."
It was all very interesting, and Billie was still asking questions ofthe others when the carriage arri
ved with the rest of the party.
"Why, where is Fannie?" they demanded, noticing her absence from thedepot wagon.
"She complained of a headache and went home," answered Belle. "We metone of your vehicles on the road, Percy, coming from town, and she gotin and drove back."
"Too bad," answered Percy. "But she's very sensible if she doesn't feelwell. It's a long drive and fairly chilly when it gets late."
Fannie was not much missed, however, from the jolly party which nowgathered around the crackling wood fire. Presently the inn-keeper,fish-woman, queen, whatever she was, led the girls up the narrow flightof stairs at one end of the room to the balcony, on which opened a rowof little bedrooms, like ship cabins. She was a very silent, busy woman,and she did not linger while they smoothed their rumpled locks andwashed the dust from their faces.
Billie, who also was not one to linger at the dressing table, went outon the gallery and stood looking down into the picturesque room. Theplace fascinated her and she strolled along, peeping into the othersmall rooms, where, no doubt, Mrs. Ruggles' father and grandfather hadput up many a seafaring guest in years gone by.
At the other end of the gallery were more rooms, and she could notresist the temptation to glance into them while she waited for the othergirls. Two of the doors were open, one into a large empty room and oneinto a scantily furnished bedroom. The next door was half closed. Shouldshe look in? Billie hesitated. It was very impolite of her, but she knewthat old Mrs. Ruggles lived alone, and there could be no one to intrudeon. She pushed the door gently and looked in, then retreated quickly.The room was not empty, after all. In the immense, old-fashioned bed sohigh that it was necessary to stand on a foot stool at one side in orderto plunge into it, lay a woman. Billie thought she was asleep at first.Her eyes were closed and her long black hair was spread back of her onthe pillow like a dusky mantel. The young girl stood transfixed on thethreshold. Then the woman opened her eyes and looked straight intoBillie's.
"I beg your pardon," said Billie politely, and backed away, her heartbeating so fast that she almost choked for breath.
The others were just going downstairs, chatting and laughing together,even Belle Rogers, who seemed, somehow, softened and quite different.There was no chance to tell about the strange woman just then, andBillie kept her knowledge to herself. But the large dark eyes hauntedher memory and she could not forget the face, of which she had caughtonly a fleeting glance.
Then came the dinner. Mrs. Ruggles did not wait on the guests. Thedishes were placed on the table and they helped themselves, while Merryand Percy, with napkins over their arms, like well-trained butlers,removed one set of plates and brought on another.
Perhaps these young people, who were not epicures by any means, did notrealize how delicious Mrs. Ruggles' dinner really was. But an older andmore experienced person would have appreciated some of those delightfulconcoctions of rice and pimentos, soup thick and rich, fowls done to aturn, and a dish of corn meal and chopped meat and tomatoes, like aMexican tamale. But they enjoyed it and the pudding that followed andthe cups of strong black coffee.
It was a merry meal, too, with jokes and songs and much laughter. Mrs.Ruggles moved ponderously about the room or sat silently by the fire.Occasionally her face lit up with a delightful smile, and she would turnand beam approvingly at Percy or Merry or Roly Poly McLane, who were thechief fun-makers.
After dinner Billie seized an opportunity to speak to the strange woman.
"We had a splendid dinner, Mrs. Ruggles," she said. "I should think youwould have lots of people stopping here in this delightful place."
"The Inn is closed now," she answered. "I don't rent my rooms any more."
"And you have no guests at all?" asked Billie.
Mrs. Ruggles looked at her for so long that Billie felt desperatelyuncomfortable.
"No," she answered shortly, and began clearing off the table with ascowl that reminded Billie of some one somewhere.
The Motor Maids' School Days Page 17
