The Adopting of Rosa Marie
Page 23
CHAPTER XXII
A Full Afternoon
"NOW," said Mrs. Crane, with a note of pride in her tone, "I wantto show you what Peter Black's been doing _this_ time. It's in thelibrary."
The interested girls followed Mrs. Crane into the cozy, book-linedroom. Mr. Black's purchases were apt to be worth seeing, for, now thathe had a family after so many years of solitude, he was spending hismoney lavishly. And he delighted in surprising his elderly sister withunusual gifts.
"There," said Mrs. Crane, pointing to a square cabinet of polishedwood. "What do you think of that! Can you guess what it is?"
"I think," replied Jean, "it's a cupboard for your very prettiesttea-cups--the ones that are too nice to use."
"_I_ think," said Marjory, "that it's a fire-proof safe to keep RosaMarie's plaid dress in, so it won't set the house afire."
"I guess," said Bettie, "it's some sort of a refrigerator to use onSundays only."
"It looks to me," ventured Mabel, "like a cage with a monkey in it.I've seen them in processions, only they were fancier."
"I _know_ what it is," said Henrietta, "because we have one like it,but ours isn't as nice as this."
"Now turn your backs," requested Mrs. Crane.
In another moment the girls were listening to a delightful concert.Wonderful music was pouring from the polished cabinet.
"I was the nearest right," asserted Mabel.
"Why!" objected Bettie, "you said it was a monkey--monkeys don't sing."
"I was right, just the same. It's a hand organ, and everybody knowsthat a monkey's pretty near the same thing."
The girls laughed, for Mabel, who was usually wrong, always insistedobstinately that she was right.
"It's a phonograph," explained Henrietta, "and the very best one I everheard."
"It's a whole brass band," breathed Bettie.
"I knew it was good," said Mrs. Crane, contentedly, "for Peter refusedto tell what he paid for it."
It took a long time for the phonograph to give up all that was insideits polished case, and before the entertainment was quite over Mr.Black came in.
Bettie, eager to display her new acquaintance, hardly waited to greethim before introducing Henrietta. It was a pleasure, as well as anovelty, to have so attractive a friend to present.
"This," said Bettie, proudly but a little flustered, "is my hen,Frenriet--I mean, my hen----"
Bettie turned scarlet and stopped. The girls shrieked with delight.Mrs. Crane laughed till she cried. Mr. Black's roars of laughterdrowned the phonograph's best effort.
"I'm _not_ your hen," giggled Henrietta. "Not even your chicken. Thissettles _that_ name--I can't risk being mistaken for any more poultry."
"She's Henrietta Bedford," explained Jean, wiping her eyes.
"And how long," teased Mr. Black, "have you been keeping poultry, MissBettykins?"
"About two weeks," giggled Bettie. "She's Mrs. Slater's granddaughter."
"I don't like to seem inhospitable," said Mr. Black, a few momentslater, "but it's beginning to snow, and the weather's going to be agood deal worse before it gets any better. If you start now, you'll behome before the snow begins to drift--there's a strong north wind andthe thermometer's a bit down-hearted."
The girls had removed their wraps and it took time to get into them.Also, Mrs. Crane, noticing that the girls were dressed for mildweather, detained them while she hunted up a silk handkerchief to wrapabout Marjory's throat, a veil to tie over Bettie's ears and somewarmer gloves for Jean. Henrietta and Mabel refused to be bundled up.
The outside air was many degrees colder than it had been two hoursearlier, and was full of flying snow. The wind came in gusts, yet therewas something bracing and stimulating about the stirring atmosphere,particularly to Henrietta.
"Oh!" cried she, "this is fine! Why can't we take a long walk? It's ashame to hurry home. I just love this. Isn't there somebody we can goto see? Hasn't anybody an errand?"
"Ye-es," said Mabel, doubtfully. "We could go down to Mrs. Malony's.Mother told me this morning to get her bill, and I forgot all about it."
"Mabel always has a few forgotten errands laid away," teased Marjory."She can show you, too, where she found Rosa Marie--it's down that way."
"I hope," said Henrietta, making a comical grimace, "that there's nodanger of finding any more like her. But let's go. It's a shame to missany of this."
Going down the long hill toward Mrs. Malony's was entirely delightful,for the wind, of which there was a great deal, was at theirwell-protected backs; they fairly scudded before it, laughing joyouslyas they were swept along almost on a run. Going westward at the bottomof the hill was not so very bad either, for here the road was somewhatsheltered, though the snow was much deeper than the girls had expectedto find it.
Mrs. Malony, the garrulous egg-woman, was at home; she expressed hersurprise and delight at the advent of so many unexpected visitors.
"'Tis mesilf thot's glad to see so manny purty faces," said she,flying about to find chairs. "'Tis the lovely complexion you haveto-day, Miss Jean. An' who's the little lady wid the rosy cheek? Thegran'choild av Mrs. Lady Slater--wud ye hark to thot now! An' how'sBettie darlin' wid all her purty smiles? Thot's good--thot's good. An'Miss Mabel here--sure she's the fat wan----"
"Mother," explained Mabel, with dignity, "would like her egg-bill."
"Bill, is ut?" replied Mrs. Malony, graciously. "Sure there's no hurryat all, at all. The sooner it comes the sooner 'tis spint. Ah, well, ifyou're afther insistin' [no one _had_ insisted] joost count the banesin me owld taypot. Ivery wan stands fer wan dozen eggs at twinty-foivecints the dozen."
"Thirteen beans," announced Jean, who had counted them several times tomake certain.
"Sure," persuaded smooth-tongued Mrs. Malony, "you'd best be takin' wanmore dozen, Miss Mabel. 'Twould be sore unlucky to stop wid t'irteen."
While she was counting the eggs, Mr. Malony, redolent of the stable andbearing two steaming pails of milk, came into the kitchen. Mrs. Malony,beaming with hospitality, went hastily to the cupboard, brought forthfive exceedingly thick cups, filled them with milk and passed them toher dismayed guests.
Some persons like warm milk, fresh from the cow, with the cow-smellovershadowing all other flavors. Mrs. Malony's visitors did not. Theywere too polite to say so, however, so there they sat, five martyrsto courtesy, sipping the distasteful milk. It clogged their throats,it made them feel queerly upset inside, but still, solely out ofpoliteness, they continued to sip.
"Take bigger swallows," advised Mabel, in a smothered whisper.
"I cuk--can't," breathed Bettie.
Mr. Malony had left the room. Presently, Mrs. Malony, in search of abasket for the eggs, stooped to rummage in the untidy recess beneaththe cupboard. Quick as a wink, Henrietta emptied her cup into theoriginal pail, but the other unfortunates were left to struggle withtheir unwelcome refreshment. Henrietta, however, gained nothing by hertrick, for the egg-woman, discovering that her cup was empty, promptlyrefilled it, much to the amusement of the other victims.
Henrietta, discovering their state of mind, was moved to defiance.Lifting her cup, with a determined glint in her black eyes, she drankevery drop in four courageous, continuous gulps. In a twinkling, theother girls had imitated her example and were declining Mrs. Malony'spressing offer of more milk.
"Joost a wee sup," pleaded Mrs. Malony, reaching for Jean's cup.
"No, thank you," said Jean, rising hastily. "We ought to be gettinghome."
Getting home, however, proved a different matter from getting away fromhome. After escaping Mrs. Malony's insistent hospitality, the girlswaded across the snowy street and out toward the point to see if RosaMarie's home were still there. The door hung from one hinge and snowhad drifted, and was still drifting, in at the doorway.
"Do you think," asked Henrietta, gazing at the deserted house, "thatRosa Marie's mother will ever come back?"
"No," returned Jean.
"Not to any such homely baby as that," d
eclared Marjory.
"She _will_ come back," asserted Mabel, loyally. "She loved RosaMarie--I saw it in her eyes."
"Looks don't matter, with mothers," soothed Bettie. "A cat likes ahomely yellow kitten as well as a lovely white one. And Dick has morefreckles than Bob, but Mother likes him just as well."
"Rosa Marie's mother stood right in that doorway," said Mabel, "and, aslong as I could see her, her eyes were stretching out after Rosa Marie."
"They must have stuck out on pegs like a lobster's," giggled Henrietta,"by the time you reached the corner."
"I think you're _mean_," muttered Mabel.
"I repent," apologized Henrietta. "For a moment I relapsed intoFrederika, the Disguised Duchess; but now I'm your own kind-heartedSallie and I wish that my toes were as warm as my affections. Let'sstart for civilization--we seem to have the world to ourselves. Doesn'tanybody else like snow, I wonder?"