Greenacre Girls

by Izola L. Forrester

  *CHAPTER IV*

  *THE QUEEN'S PRIVY COUNCIL*

  There was a queer silence, fraught with suspense for each person in theroom. Mrs. Robbins looked down at the wearied face lying back on thewhite pillows with a startled expression in her usually calm eyes.Instinctively both her hands reached for his and held them fast, whileJean laid her own two down on her mother's shoulders as if she wouldhave given her strength for this new ordeal.

  "You mean for a little visit, don't you, Cousin Roxy?" she askedeagerly.

  "No, I don't, Jeanie. I mean for good and all, or at least until yourfather has time to get well, and that can't be done in a few days."

  "But Doctor Roswell says he's gaining every day," Mrs. Robbins said.She waited for some reassuring answer, her eyes almost begging for one,but Cousin Roxana was not to be dismayed.

  "Jerry, tell what the doctor said to us this morning. Not that I takemuch stock in him, but he may be on the right track."

  "Nothing special, Motherbird and robins all," smiled back Mr. Robbins;"only it appears that I am to be laid up in the dry dock for repairs fora long while, and the sinews of war won't stand the vacation expenses ifwe stay where we are now."

  "I wouldn't try to talk about it, dear, before the children," began Mrs.Robbins, quick to avoid anything that savored of trouble or anxiety. "Wemust not worry. There will be some way out of it."

  "There is," Cousin Roxy went on serenely. "If ever the finger ofProvidence pointed the way, it's doing it now. I say you'd better moveright out of this kind of a place where expenses are high and you can'tafford anything at all. This is a real crisis, Elizabeth Ann." Shespoke with more decision as she saw Jean pat her mother comfortingly."It has got to be met with common sense. When the bread winner can'twork and there's a nestful of youngsters to bring up and feed andclothe, it's time to sit up and take notice, and count all of yourresources."

  "How would it do for you to take Father up home with you for a rest,Cousin Roxy?" Jean suggested, stepping into the awkward breach as shealways did. "Then we could let Annie and Rozika go, and just keep Teklato do the cooking and washing. And when he came back we'd have all themoving over, and it would be the prettiest time of the year along inlate August."

  Mrs. Robbins' face brightened at the suggestion.

  "Or we might even renew the lease here, Jerry. The house is verypleasant after all, and we could get along with it if it were all doneover this spring."

  Mr. Robbins looked up at Cousin Roxana's countenance with whimsicalhelplessness, and she answered the appeal.

  "Now, look here," she said with decision and finality. "You'd betterput the idea of staying here right out of your mind, Betty. The windsof circumstance have blown your nest all to smithereens, and if you'rethe right sort of a motherbird, you'll start right in building a freshone where it's safer. I think your way lies over the hills to GileadCenter. You can pay all your bills here, sell off a lot of heavyfurniture, and move up there this spring. For you can't stay here.There's hardly enough money to see you through as it is. I'm going tohelp you along a bit until you get your new start."

  "Not money enough," said Mrs. Robbins as though she could not comprehendsuch an idea. "But we couldn't think of going up there and all livingwith you, Cousin Roxy."

  "You're not going to," answered Roxana. "Thank the Lord, I live in aland where houses and food are cheap and there's room for everybody. Wedon't tack a brass door-plate on a rock pile like I saw there in NewYork, Betty, and call it a residence at about ten dollars a minute tobreathe. I've been telling Jerry you'd better rent a farm near me, andsettle down on it."

  "But Roxy--" Mrs. Robbins hesitated.

  "Oh, Mother, do it, do it," came in a quick outburst from Kit, standingback against the wall. "It would be perfectly dandy for all of us andwould do Dad a world of good!"

  "We wouldn't mind a bit. We'd love it, wouldn't we, Dorrie?" Helensqueezed Doris's hand to be sure she would answer in the affirmative."We'd all help you."

  Doris was silent, still too bewildered at the outlook to express anopinion.

  "I shouldn't mind for myself, but we must think of the girls--theirschooling and what environment means at their age. I suppose Jean couldbe left at school."

  "Thought she was all through school," came from Cousin Roxana.

  "I am, only I've been taking lessons in town this winter in a specialcourse, arts and crafts, you know, and next fall I was going into theregular classes at the National Academy of Design."

  "What for, child?" Roxy's gray eyes twinkled behind her glasses."Going to be an artist?"

  "Not exactly pictures," Jean answered with dignity. "Conventionalizeddesigns."

  "Well, whatever it is, I guess it will hold over for a year while you goup to the country and learn to keep house. Kit here can go to HighSchool. It's seven miles away, but our young folks drive down and putup their horses at Tommy Burke's stable in East Pomfret, and take thetrolley over from there. It's real handy."

  Kit's eyes signaled to Jean, and Jean's to Helen and Doris. A fleetingvision of that "handy" trip to High School in the dead of winterappeared before them. Kit had a ridiculous way of expressing utterdespair and astonishment. She would open her eyes widely, inflate hercheeks, and look precisely like Tweedledee in "Through theLooking-Glass." Doris emitted a low but irrepressible giggle under thestrain.

  "I think," Mrs. Robbins said hurriedly, "that we might manage if we hada little roadster."

  "Rooster?" repeated Cousin Roxy in surprise.

  Kit and Doris departed suddenly into the outer hall.

  "No, roadster; a runabout that either Jean or I could learn to run.Don't they have them, Jerry, with adjustable tops, one for passengers,one for delivering goods, and so on?"

  "Doubtless one for ploughing and harrowing likewise, Betty," CousinRoxana said merrily. "I guess you'll jog along behind a good, sensiblehorse for a while. Remember Ella Lou, Jerry? She's fifteen years oldand just as perky as ever. I always have to hold her down at therailroad crossing."

  "What do you think of it, dear?" asked Mr. Robbins, looking longingly upat the face of the Motherbird. "It would be a great comfort and reliefto me to get back to those old hills of rest, but it doesn't seem fairto you or the children. The sacrifice is too great. They do need theright kind of environment, as you say. Suppose we left Jean at least,where she could keep up her studies, and perhaps put Kit into a goodprivate school. Then I might go up home with Roxy, and you and the twoyounger girls could go out to California to Benita Ranch--"

  But Mrs. Robbins laid her fingers on his lips.

  "You're not going to banish us to Benita Ranch. If you think it is thebest thing to do, Jerry, we'll all go with you. Remember, 'Whither thougoest, I will go. Where thou lodgest, I will lodge--'"

  Helen laid her hand over Jean's, and they stepped out softly. Theirmother had slipped down on her knees beside the bed, and even CousinRoxana had gone over to the window to pretend she was looking out at theSound. The girls fled downstairs to the big music-room back of thelibrary. It had been their special shelter and gathering place eversince they had lived there. Kit and Doris were already there, deep intoan argument about the entire situation.

  "I don't think it's right to move up there," Helen said, judicially."We may not like it at all, and there we'd be just the same, planted,and maybe we never could get out of it, and we'd grow old and look justlike Cousin Roxy and talk like her and everything."

  "Prithee, maiden, have a care what thou sayest," Kit expostulated. "Ourfair cousin hath a way, 'tis true, but she is a power in the land, andher voice is heard in the councils of the mighty. I wish I had half hercommon sense."

  "I hate common sense," Jean cried passionately. "I know it's right andwe must do the best thing, but, girls, did you see Mother's face? It wassimply tragic. Dad's been a country boy, and he's going back home wherehe knows all about everything and loves it, but Mother's so different.She's li
ke a queen."

  "Marie Antoinette had an excellent dairy, and Queen Charlotte raised aprize brand of pork, my dear," Kit answered. Perched upon the longmusic stool, she beamed on the disconsolate ones over on the longleather couch. "I think Mother's a perfect darling, but she's a goodsoldier too, and she'll go, you see if she doesn't. And it won't killany of us. I don't see why you can't hammer copper and brass, and cutout leather designs in a woodshed just as well as you can in a studio.The really great mind should rise superior to its environment."

  "Let's tell Kit that the first time she scraps over dishwashing," Dorissaid. "I didn't hear anything about Tekla going along, did you, Jean?"

  Kit turned around and drummed out a gay strain of martial music on thepiano keys, while she sang:

  "Oh, it has to be done, and it's got to be done, If I have to do it myself."

  "You'll do your share all right, Kathleen Mavourneen, and when the graydawn is breaking at that," laughed Jean. "Farm life's no joke, andreally, while I wouldn't disagree with Dad and Cousin Roxy about it, Ithink that those who have special gifts--"

  "Meaning our darling eldest sister," quoth Kit.

  "--Should not waste their time doing what is not their forte. It takesaway the work from those who can't do the other things."

  Jean's pointed chin was raised a bit higher in her earnestness, but Kitshook her head.

  "You're going to walk the straight and narrow path up at Gilead Centerunder Cousin Roxy's eagle eye just the same, Jean. It's no good kickingagainst the pricks. I don't mind so much leaving this place, but we'llmiss the girls awfully."

  "And the church," added Helen, who was in the Auxiliary Girls' Choir."We're going to miss that. I wonder if there is a church up there."

  "I see where Kit steps off the basket ball team and learns how to run alawn mower," Kit remarked. "Also, there will be no Wednesday eveningdancing class, Helenita, for your princesslike toes to trip at."

  "I wish we could all move back to town and see if we couldn't dosomething there to earn money," Jean said. "One of the girls in the artclass found a position designing wall paper the other day, and anotherone decorates lacquered boxes and trays. When the fortunes of the housesuddenly crash, the humble but still genteel family usually take inpaying guests, or do ecclesiastical embroidery, don't they?"

  "Don't be morbid, Jean," Kit wagged an admonishing finger at her fromthe stool where she presided, "We'll not take in any boarders at all. Isee myself waiting on table this summer at some hillside farm retreatfor aged, and respectable females. If we've got to work, let's work forourselves in the Robbins' commonwealth."

  "And if it has to be, let's not fuss and make things harder for Mother,"Doris put in.

  "How about Dad?" Kit demanded. "Seems to me that he's got the hardestpart to bear. It's bad enough lying there sick all the time, withoutfeeling that you're dragging the whole family after you and exiling themto Gilead Center."

  "It's too funny, girls," Jean said all at once, her eyes softening andher dimples showing again. "Just the minute anyone of us takes Dad'spart, some one springs up and gives a yell for Mother, and vice versa.I think we're the nicest, fairest, most loyal old crowd, don't you? Wewon't be lonesome up there so long as we have ourselves,--you know wewon't,--and if things are slow, then we'll start something."

  "Will we? Oh, won't we?" Kit cried. She twirled around to the keysagain, and started up an old darky melody.

  "Crept to de chicken coop on my knees, Ain't going ter work any more. Thought Ah heard a chicken sneeze, Ain't going ter work any more.

  "Balm of Gilead! Balm of Gilead! Balm, Balm, Balm, Balm, Ain't going ter work any more, Ah tole yer. Balm of Gilead! Balm of Gilead! Balm, Balm, Balm, Balm, Ah ain't going ter work any more."

  "That's better," Jean said, with a sigh of relief. "We've got to pullall together, and make the best of things. Dad's sick, and the QueenMother's worried to death. Let's be the Queen's Privy Council and actaccordingly."