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THE WYNDHAM GIRLS
"TOM HAD CAMPED OUT, AND HE INSISTED ON COOKING THESTEAK."]
THE WYNDHAM GIRLS
BY MARION AMES TAGGART
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY C. M. RELYEA
NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1902
Copyright, 1901, 1902, by THE CENTURY CO.
_Published October, 1902_
THE DEVINNE PRESS
TO CAROLYN WELLS
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I "POOR HUMPTY DUMPTY!" 3
II FRIENDS, COUNSELORS, AND PLANS 22
III WAYS AND MEANS 40
IV MAKING THE BEST OF IT 59
V PHYLLIS AND BARBARA ENTER THE LISTS 75
VI MARK TAPLEY'S KIND OF DAYS 91
VII TAKING ARMS AGAINST A SEA OF TROUBLES 107
VIII THE TURN OF THE LANE 122
IX HOME-KEEPING HEARTS 140
X DISCOVERIES 157
XI LOYAL PHYLLIS 172
XII THE SQUARE BECOMES A TRIANGLE 190
XIII THE STRAY UNIT 207
XIV THE LITTLE BLIND GOD OPENS HIS EYES 224
XV WREATHING HOLLY AND TWINING BAY 242
XVI SPOKES FROM THE HUB 258
XVII THE LADY OF THE SCALES 271
XVIII UNDER THE HARVEST MOON 289
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
"TOM HAD CAMPED OUT, AND HE INSISTED ON COOKING THE STEAK" _Frontispiece_
THE WYNDHAM GIRLS 7
"A YOUNG MAN DASHED DOWN THE STEPS INTO THE RUINS" 51
AUNT HENRIETTA 81
THE EXPEDITION IN SEARCH OF PEACE 125
"'LOOK OUT, TRUCHI-KI; YOU'LL FALL!' PHYLLIS SAID" 145
"'I KNEW THAT IF I WAS AWFULLY ILL MISS BAB WOULD BE NICE TO YOU,' MURMURED MARGERY" 237
A BEARER OF GOOD TIDINGS 279
THE WYNDHAM GIRLS
CHAPTER I
"POOR HUMPTY DUMPTY!"
"No pink for me, please; I want that beautiful shimmering green, madeup over shining white silk. It will make my glossy brown eyes and hairlook like a ripe chestnut among its green leaves."
"Oh, Bab, such a glistening sentence! 'Shimmering green,' 'shiningwhite,' 'glossy hair'--you didn't mean glossy eyes, I hope! Besides,chestnuts don't show among green leaves; they stay in their burs tillthey drop off the tree."
"Now, Phyllis, what is the use of spoiling a poeticalmetaphor--figure--what do you call it? Which do you like best? Have youmade up your mind, Jessamy?"
"I want all white; probably this mousseline de soie."
"I'm rather inclined to the pearl, yet the violet is lovely."
"You both 'know your effects,' as that conceited little novelist saidlast night," cried Barbara. "Jessamy's a dream in white, and Phyllooks too sweet for mortal uses in anything demure."
The soft May wind from the distant river blew the lace curtains gentlyto and fro, and lifted the squares of delicate fabrics scattered overthe couch on which the three young girls were sitting. Jessamy, theelder of the two Wyndham sisters, was at eighteen very beautiful, withdainty elegance of motion, refinement of speech, almost stately grace,unusual to her age and generation.
Barbara, a year younger, was her opposite. Life, energy, fun weredeclared in every quick turn of her head and hands; small in figure,with sparkling dark eyes, and a saucy tilt of nose and chin, shecould hardly have contrasted more sharply with her tall, gray-eyed,delicately tinted sister, and with what Bab herself called "Jessamy'sUndine ways."
The third girl, Phyllis, was twin in age to Jessamy, but unlike eitherof the others in appearance and temperament. She was in reality theircousin, the one child of their father's only brother, but, as she hadbeen brought up with them since her fourth year, Jessamy and Barbaraknew no lesser kinship to her than to each other.
At first glance Phyllis was not pretty; to those who had known her foreven a brief time she was beautiful. Sweetness, unselfishness, contentshone out from her dark-blue eyes, with the large pupils and long, darklashes. Her lips rested together with the suggestion of a smile intheir corners, and the clear pallor of her complexion was shaded byher masses of dark-brown hair, which warmed into red tints under thesunlight.
Across the room from her daughters and niece, enjoying the girls'happiness as she always did, sat Mrs. Wyndham, rocking slowly.
She was a fragile woman, still clad in the mourning she had worn forher husband for seven years,--a sweet and gentle creature, who, onefelt at once, had been properly placed by Providence in luxury, andfortunately shielded from hardship; for the Wyndhams were wealthy. Themorning-room in the great house on Murray Hill showed evidence of beingthe spot where the family gathered informally for rest and recreation;it made no attempt at special beauty, still it was full of countlesslittle objects which declared the long custom of all its inmates ofpurchasing whatever struck their fancy, regardless of its cost orsubsequent usefulness.
The three young girls, differing in many ways, were alike inbearing the stamp of having spent their short lives among luxurioussurroundings, shielded from the cradle against the sharp buffets ofcommon experience.
Even the samples fluttering under their fingers and the touch of thespring wind bore the name of a French artist on Fifth Avenue whoseskill only the highly favored could command, and the consultationunder way was for the selection for each young girl of gowns fit for aprincess's wearing, yet intended for the use of maidens not yet "out,"in the hops at the hotel at Bar Harbor in the coming summer.
"Madrina, do you care which we choose?" asked Bab, jumping up in ashower of samples which flew in all directions at her sudden movement,and running over to hug her pale mother. Jessamy said Bab was "subjectto irruptions of affection."
"Not in the least; the samples are all bewilderingly pretty. I only askto have a voice in selecting the style of the gown. Madame Alouette andI sometimes differ as to what is suitable," replied Mrs. Wyndham, whenshe had caught her breath.
"Do you remember the elaborate lace she used on Jessamy's dimity lastyear, auntie?" laughed Phyllis, on her knees collecting the samples Babhad scattered.
Jessamy rose slowly, gently putting together the bits ofsoap-bubble-tinted gauzes on her knee; her fingers stroked themreluctantly, as if unwilling to part from them. "I am afraid I amdreadfully vain," she said, "though I hope I am only artistic. I amnot sure whether I love exquisite things for their own sake or becauseI want them for myself, but these lovely fabrics go to my very heart.I hate cheapness to an extent that I am ashamed of, and I certainlyalways have an instinct for the most expensive articles in the shops,though I never think of the price."
"I am sure it is because you're artistic, Amy," said Phyllis, comingup flushed from under an arm-chair. "You do like fine things foryourself, but it's just as you want only good pictures in your room.You crave beauty, and you're born
royal in taste. If we were allbeggared, Bab and I could get on; for while I love beauty too, it's notwith your love for it. Besides, I could be happy in a tenement if wewere together, and Bab would revel in a sunbonnet and driving the cowshome. But you're a princess, and you can't be anything else: _noblesseoblige_, you know, means, in your case, 'obliged to be noble.'"
THE WYNDHAM GIRLS.]
"You're a bad Phyl, whose object in life is to ruin people by makingthem perfectly self-satisfied," said Jessamy. "I only hope some of theexcuses you find for me are true. I'm as luxurious in nature as a cat.I know that. Come to the window; I want to see this old rose in thesunlight."
Bab stopped swinging her feet, and slipped from the arm of her mother'schair, where she had been perching, to follow them. "Don't you abusecats, nor my sister Jessamy, miss," she said, putting her arm aroundslender Jessamy and peering over her shoulder at the sample of old-rosesilk, while she rubbed Jessamy's arm with her chin like an affectionatedog. "They're two as nice things as I know. Madrina, I see Mr. Hurdcoming across the street; he's headed this way."
"Oh, dear!" sighed Mrs. Wyndham, almost fretfully; "I suppose he iscoming to talk business again. He has been tormenting me all winterto withdraw my money from the corporation; you know, he thinks itisn't secure. I am sure I cannot see why--do you, Jessamy and Phyllis?You are as good business women as I am. Don't leave me when he comesto-day; I should like to have you hear his arguments. Young as youare, you can understand quite as well as I do. He says I ought to sellmy stock, or enough to secure us against misfortune, but I cannot getas high interest elsewhere, and it is safe."
"He--you said Mr. Hurd thinks it isn't safe, didn't you, mama?" askedJessamy, turning from the window.
"But that is ridiculous! Your poor father's partner is at the helm,and your father always said he was both clever and unimpeachable; hetrusted him like himself," said Mrs. Wyndham. "It is all because theywon't show the books lately--as though I wanted to see the books, orminded if Mr. Hurd did not, as long as Mr. Abbott is managing! I cannotsee why Mr. Hurd is so nervous; he has talked hours to me since lastfall, and yet I don't see. I will not put our stock on the market--inthe market--what is the right word?--and shake public confidence, floodthe market--inflate it--oh, I cannot remember terms! And Mr. Abbottwrote me, and came especially to see me in March to say that wouldbe the effect of my offering my bonds or stock now. I understand himmuch better than Mr. Hurd; he is more patient, and won't leave hispoint until I have mastered it. He said industrial stock was differentfrom--from--the other kind. He said one must not bear the market onone's own stock, but must bull it. That means, in their queer terms,not depress it, but force things upward, which is, of course, what onewould want to do with one's own values. You stay in the room to-day,children, and see if you understand. Mr. Hurd insists I am riskingbeggaring you, and that distresses me unspeakably."
"Don't mind Mr. Hurd, Madrina; he's an anxious attorney, that's all,"said Barbara, with an air of lucidity.
"But one has to heed one's attorney, daughter," said her mother, halfsmiling. "Only I can't turn my back on my dear husband's business,which he brought to such splendid success, and sell out Wyndham IronCompany stock as if we weren't Wyndhams, but outsiders."
"Mr. Hurd, ma'am," said Violet, the black maid, extending a card inone hand, while the other twisted her apron-string nervously; she hadcaught alarm from a glance at the visitor's face.
"Bring him here, Violet. Mr. Hurd will pardon feminine confusion," Mrs.Wyndham added, rising and pointing to the samples on the couch with herextended hand, for the lawyer had followed the maid without delay. "Weare pluming, or more properly donning, our feathers for flight, Mr.Hurd."
"Yes, yes," said the little man, shaking hands, without looking at Mrs.Wyndham. "Good morning, Miss Jessamy; good morning, Phyllis; how do youdo, little Barbara? May I interrupt your--Gracious powers! dear madam,I mean I _must_ interrupt your plans, Mrs. Wyndham."
Jessamy and Phyllis clutched each other with sudden pallor; the littlelawyer's voice shook with emotion. Bab flushed and ran to her mother,putting her arms around her frail figure as though to place herself asa bulwark between her and ill.
"You will not interrupt anything more important than the selectionof dancing-gowns for the children," said Mrs. Wyndham, with her softdignity, though she turned a little paler. "Is there any special reasonfor your visit--kind visit always--Mr. Hurd? And may the girls hearwhat you have to say, since their interests are at stake?"
"Special reason, madam? Special, indeed! God help me, I don't know howto say what I have to say, but I prefer the young ladies to hear it.You remember, I have urged their presence at our previous conferences,but you considered them too young to be troubled--Poor chicks!" headded suddenly.
"Evidently you feel that you have something unpleasant to tell me, Mr.Hurd; but I feel sure you exaggerate; you know, you are always moretimid and pessimistic than I," said Mrs. Wyndham, dropping into thenearest chair and trying to smile.
"Good heavens, Mrs. Wyndham! It isn't a matter for self-gratulation. IfI could have made you listen to me six--even two--months ago, I shouldnot be here to-day, the bearer of such dreadful news," burst out thelawyer, impatiently.
"Wouldn't it be better, Mr. Hurd, to tell us quickly? You frighten uswith hints," said Jessamy, in her silvery, even voice; but the poorchild's lips were white.
Mr. Hurd glanced at Jessamy. "Yes," he said; "but it is not easy. Iheard the definite news last night in Wall Street; rumors had beenafloat for days. I wanted to give you one more night of untroubledsleep. It will be in the papers this evening."
"What will, Mr. Hurd?" burst out Barbara, impatiently.
"The failure of the Wyndham Iron Company."
There was dead silence in the room, broken only by the low-toned littleFrench clock striking ten times.
"The company--failed?" whispered Mrs. Wyndham, trying to find her voice.
"What does that mean, Mr. Hurd?" asked Phyllis.
"It means that your mother's bonds and stocks are valueless; and as sheholds everything in her own right and has kept all that your fatherleft in the business, it means that your inheritance has been wipedout of existence," said the lawyer, not discriminating between thedaughters and the niece in his excitement.
"How can it be--total ruin?" asked poor Mrs. Wyndham. "Henry gone butseven years, and such a splendid success as he left the company! Howcan it have failed? I don't believe it!" she cried, starting to herfeet with sudden strength.
"Dear Mrs. Wyndham, it is too certain," said her husband's old friendand attorney, gently. "When they refused to open up the books forinspection, and you would not authorize me to take steps to compel themto do so, I knew this would come."
"Mr. Abbott--" began Mrs. Wyndham.
"Mr. Abbott is an outrageous villain," interrupted Mr. Hurd,passionately. "I have lain awake all night cursing him, or I couldnot mention him before you without swearing. He has got control ofthe corporation by holding the majority of stock, and he has run thething on a speculative basis instead of a solid business one. At thesame time, justice to his business capacity compels me to add that hehas kept himself clear of possible failure, using the stockholders'funds and not his own for his operations, so that though you and othersare ruined, he is safe. I shall never be able to make you understandthe case more fully; but that is the sum of it, and he's a consummaterogue."
"But Henry trusted him--" essayed Mrs. Wyndham once more.
"Henry Wyndham was an honest man, and a good friend. He is not thefirst who has been deceived in his estimate of a man. That is all to besaid on that score," said the little lawyer, grimly.
"I never knew any one who was ruined, outside of books," said Jessamy,trying to smile. "What does it mean? Going to live in an East-sidetenement, and working in a sweat-shop?"
"Nonsense, Jessamy!" said her mother, sharply, drying her tears, whichhad been softly falling, while Bab burst into wailing at the picture."Nonsense! I shall sell some stock, and I am sure
that we shall get onvery well--perhaps economizing somewhat."
"Dear madam, you no more grasp the situation than you saw it coming,"said Mr. Hurd, struggling between annoyance and pity. "Your preferredstock might bring five cents, and the common stock three, but I doubtit; their value is wiped out. Practically, you have no stock. Still, Ihope the situation will not be as grave as Miss Jessamy pictures. Youwill have an income greater than enough to give you comfort, thoughby comparison you will be poor. You cannot stay in this house, for italone, and its contents, must furnish your income. But it will rent orsell at a figure to insure you six to eight thousand a year; and ifyou sell your pictures and some of the furniture you will have a veryrespectable principal to live upon. Bad as it is, your case might befar worse."
"Do you mean that this house will be the sole--actually thesole--source of income left me?" gasped Mrs. Wyndham, with moreagitation than she had yet shown.
Mr. Hurd nodded. The poor lady uttered a sharp cry and fell back,sobbing wildly. "Then I have nothing--nothing!" she screamed. "Mydarlings are beggared!"
Phyllis rang for wine, and Mr. Hurd leaped to his feet withapprehension of the truth.
"What do you mean, Mrs. Wyndham?" he demanded.
Mrs. Wyndham rested her head on Phyllis's arm and drank the wine sheheld to her lips.
"Last March," she began feebly, "Mr. Abbott came to me andexplained--or seemed to explain--matters to me. At that time he toldme he had bought iron for the works as a speculation, expecting it toappreciate in value. Instead it fell, and the business was temporarilyembarrassed in consequence. He asked me to let him negotiate a loanwith this house as security."
Mr. Hurd, who had been pacing the floor furiously, stopped short, witha fervent imprecation. Halting before the feeble creature who had beenso duped, he thrust his hands deep into his pockets and gazed down onher. "And you did it?" he growled.
Mrs. Wyndham bowed her head lower. "It was a mere formality, he said.The business needed but to be tided over its present embarrassment,which the ready money thus raised would do, and then the loan would bepaid and the house stand as free as before. So I gave it as security."
"Just heaven! Why didn't Henry leave everything in trust for you in thehands of a decent man!" cried Mr. Hurd, furiously. "To trick a woman,and such a guileless woman as you, like that! The miserable, currishscamp! Why didn't you mention this to me, madam?"
"Because Mr. Abbott begged me not to; he said none but ourselves,partners in the concern, stockholders of the corporation, should knowof it, or it might make the stock panicky--I am sure he said panicky,"murmured the wretched woman.
"Then I am afraid Miss Jessamy's picture is not so overdrawn," groanedthe lawyer. "You will have no principal except what the personalproperty, the furniture and the pictures will bring."
"And I have ruined my children--my dear, blessed, pretty girls, forwhom I would gladly die, and whose father was so happy to feel that hehad secured them from the hard side of life! He knew in his youth whatprivation meant--my dear, good Henry. Oh, I can't bear it! I won't haveit so! It isn't true!" And Mrs. Wyndham went off into hysterical cries,which ended all possibility of further discussion.
Jessamy ran to call Violet to help her mother to her room; Bab layon the floor, a collapsed heap of misery, sobbing in terror of hermother's agony and the affliction, dimly understood, which had fallenon them in the midst of the dainty fabrics and happy plans. ButPhyllis, trembling and white, yet calm, laid her cold hands on her auntand gently forced her into quiet. She lifted her eyes, no longer blue,but jet black, with their dilated pupils blazing with righteous wrath,to Mr. Hurd's face. "Is there no law to make that villain give up whathe stole?" she demanded fiercely.
The lawyer looked at her with the good fighter's quick recognitionof the same quality in another. "I'll try mighty hard to find it,Phyllis," he said. "The trouble is that a consummate rogue knows how tocover his tracks. He has undoubtedly put everything out of his hands.But we'll make him show when it was done; and if he has taken suchsteps this winter past, we can force him to disgorge. There is onecomfort: I'll make New York a confoundedly unpleasant place for him totry to do business in."
Kind Violet, with her black face gray from sympathy and fright, cameback with Jessamy, and put her strong arms around her mistress'sfragile body, lifting her like a baby. "Come right along, you po'little lamb lady," she said. "Miss Jes'my telephone for doctoh, an' I'mgoin' make you quiet an' comf'able in bed. Don' you cry 'notheh teah;Vi'let ain't goin' let nothin' come neah you."
Utterly exhausted in mind and body, Mrs. Wyndham found comfort in thesoft voice and loving arms. She drooped her head on the pink ginghamshoulder of the tall girl, and let herself be carried away to herchamber as if she had been a child.
Jessamy turned to Mr. Hurd. "You will not mind if we received thenews rather badly," she said. "We shall all do our parts when we havelearned them. It--it--came rather suddenly, you see." Evidently Jessamywas going to be the princess her cousin called her, and meet misfortuneproudly.
"You dear child," said the lawyer, his eyes softening and dimming as helooked in the pretty face, blanched white, and noted the lines holdingthe soft lips grimly set to keep them from quivering. "You are littleheroines--you and Phyllis. Don't try to be too brave; it is better tocry, and then wipe away the tears to see what is to be done after theshipwreck."
"There is only one thing I want to ask you now, Mr. Hurd; then,perhaps, we would better not talk any more to-day: What are we likelyto have to live on if we sell our things?" asked Jessamy.
"You know it is guesswork; no one can more than approximate the resultof sales," answered Mr. Hurd. "Your father knew good pictures, andthere are many of considerable value here, but summer is no time tooffer them. I should say you were likely to have returns of aboutthirty thousand dollars, which, if I invest it at six per cent., willgive you nearly two thousand a year. Now, good-by, my dears, for thismorning. Try not to grieve; no one knows what is best for him in thiscurious world, and the day may come when you will be grateful for thischange of fortune. People are usually better and stronger for tryingtheir mettle as well as their muscle. God bless you."
Jessamy did not attempt to answer. Mr. Hurd laid his hand gently oneach head, and went away.
Left to themselves, Jessamy and Phyllis looked at each other and aroundthe pretty room, with the couch still strewn with the samples for theirdancing-gowns; the books, pictures, ornaments they had bought scatteredeverywhere. With a sudden rush of memory, they saw themselves littlechildren, playing about their kind father--for he had been father tothem both--in that very room, and with equal clearness saw the yearsbefore them in which this beautiful home had no being, but, instead,privations more awful to their imaginations because they had no clue totheir actual meaning.
The necessity for self-restraint being removed, with a common impulseJessamy and Phyllis turned, and, throwing their arms around each other,burst into passionate weeping--the despairing weeping of youth whichhas not yet learned that nothing on earth is final.
Bab stirred uneasily and sat up on the floor, wiping her own eyes andtrying to smile. "Don't cry like that, girls; please don't," she said."It doesn't matter so much about me, because I always go off one wayor the other, but I can't stand it if you are wretched." She gatheredherself up, and went slowly over to the others. "We're young andbeautiful," she said, "and we have some few brains; we'll make anotherfortune for ourselves. I think, perhaps, I'll marry an oil man withmillions. Smile--for mercy's sake smile--Jess and Phyl!"
But Jessamy and Phyllis, who had controlled themselves while Babsobbed, could not raise their heads.
Bab was mercurial--always, as she herself put it, "going off" toextremes. She had cried her first terror away, and now the necessity ofher nature to look on the bright side and find something funny in allsituations began to assert itself.
"I think likely two thousand a year will be a lot when we get used toit, though it costs that to clothe us all now, I suppose. I expect tolea
rn to manage so well that we can adopt twins on the money we haveleft over. I shall go to get points from Ruth Wells; I always thoughtshe was splendid, and longed to know her; she understands how to makeevery quarter a half-dollar. Now, girls, we're going to be like thepeople in the story-books, and learn who are our true friends--don'tyou know how misfortune always tests them? Look up--smile! 'Rise,Sally, rise; dry your weeping eyes!'"
"Don't, Bab," murmured Jessamy, faintly. "You haven't an idea of whathas really happened." But she raised her head, and attempted to checkher tears as she spoke.
Bab saw it with secret triumph; she was actually talking herself intosomething like cheerfulness. "Don't I! I have quite as much experienceas you, miss, anyway. Still, I'm willing to confess I'd rather not bepoor," she added, with the air of making a generous concession. "But Ifeel sure we'll be happy yet, because I, for one, have got to be. Butit is rather hard to get thrown off your high wall when you've sat onit all your life. Poor Humpty Dumpty! I never properly felt for himbefore."
And Bab was rewarded for her nonsense by a tearful smile from Jessamyand Phyllis.
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