Molly Brown's Orchard Home

by Nell Speed

  CHAPTER XIV.

  COALS OF FIRE.

  A furious, vociferous guard bundled Judy out of the coach, when onarriving at Chartres the door was unlocked. She showed her ticket toParis and endeavored to explain her mistake and situation, but he wasalmost inarticulate with rage at her for having "stolen a ride" as heexpressed it; and now she could look out for herself. It was none of hisaffair. She went into the waiting room to find out when the next trainto Paris was due. She debated whether or not she should tell the ticketagent of her trouble and see if he could pass her back to Paris, but hisappearance was so forbidding and his eyes so fishy that she could hardlymake up her mind even to ask the time for the train. She made out from abulletin that it was not due until ten at night. That would land her inParis at midnight. In the meantime, she must raise enough money to payfor her ticket and hire a taxi when she got to Paris. She must alsomanage to send a telegram to Molly.

  "Julia Kean, you have always thought yourself pretty clever and this isthe first time in all your life you have had really and truly to dependon yourself. Now let's see what you can do. First thing, I warn you notto sniffle and get sorry for yourself. If you do, the game is up.Suppose I can't raise the spondulicks in time for the ten train! Maybe Ihad better drop a postal to Molly with some of my six sous so she canget it first pop in the morning."

  This she accordingly did. She found a tobacco shop where stamps andpostal cards were sold and mailed a piteous appeal to Molly. She thenfound a telegraph office and wrote a telegram to be sent collect, butthe hard-hearted operator refused to send it unless she prepaid it, andthat she could not do. Her French deserted her whenever she thought ofexplaining her situation to anyone. She kept her eye open for Americansor even English, but not a sign of a foreigner did she see.

  "I might have raised a little money on the American flag if I only hadnot been so smart-Alec and given it to that old man. I wonder whatpossessed me to eat such an expensive lunch at Versailles! I fancy itwas my virtuous resolve to be nice to Frances Andrews that made me feellike treating myself. Thank goodness for the gingerbread! I won'tstarve, at least," and she hugged to her faint heart the remains of herpreserver in time of peril and need.

  Whom should she see approaching at this juncture but Frances Andrews andher grandmother? Judy's first feeling was one of delight; but sheremembered how rude she had been to Frances and her resolve to be niceto her, and felt if she should be cordial now there could be but oneinterpretation for Frances to put on it, and that would be: she had an"axe to grind."

  She bowed coldly and Frances returned the salutation, but she stoppedher to ask if the Browns were in Chartres, too.

  "No, I am here alone," said Judy with great nonchalance, "I bid you goodafternoon," and she walked on, trying to keep her back from lookingdejected.

  "Grandmother, there is something the matter with Miss Kean and I feel asthough I should find out if she needs help," said Frances, gazing afterJudy until she turned the corner.

  "Nonsense, my child. She is a bad-mannered piece. I have an idea I knowwhy she is in Chartres. I believe it is a runaway match between her andthat dark, middle-aged man we met at the Browns' tea. I caught a glimpseof him at the hotel at dejeuner to-day. Kinsella is his name. I couldnot quite place him but knew his face was familiar. You keep out of it.It is none of your business if persons choose to make fools ofthemselves," and the irate old woman clutched her granddaughter's armand dragged her along.

  "There is no use in trying to stop me, Grandmother. She is Molly Brown'sfriend, and while she is horrid to me, I am going to see if she needs myhelp for Molly's sake. You can get back to the hotel alone; if youcan't, just call a cab," and Frances whisked off, leaving her agedrelative fussing and fuming in the street.

  With all of Judy's acting, Frances had seen that she was excited aboutsomething and she certainly had not the air of one coming to meet alover. The day in the country had not been conducive to tidiness. Judy'shair was blown, her collar and shirtwaist were rumpled, her shoes dustyand the tears in the train had left a smudge on her cheek.

  On turning the corner, Judy had discovered a pawnbroker's shop. "That iswhere people in books go when they are hard up, so that is where I amgoing," she thought.

  It was kept by a benevolent looking old Jew, and benevolent he may havebeen, but Judy soon found out, as she expressed it, "He was not inbusiness for his health."

  She asked him what he would give her for her sketching kit. It was avery attractive and expensive little box, with a palette, a drawer fullof color tubes, a partition with sliding panels for sketching and a trayof brushes. He sniffed with disgust and said, "Two francs."

  Judy's heart sank. Forty cents for a box that cost at least ten dollars,counting the tubes of expensive colors! But she remembered that at apawnbroker's you can redeem your belongings, so she decided to take theforty cents and send a telegram with it.

  "There are some sketches in here that I should like to dispose of, too,but they are more valuable than the box," she added slyly, having aninstinct that she must meet the old man on his own ground and cry up herwares. "Be careful! The paint is not quite dry on them."

  She slid the panel with the Corot effect out of the back of the box andheld it out to the ancient Shylock. He adjusted his horn spectacles onthe end of his long nose and holding the sketch upside down, viewed itcritically.

  "Ah, very pretty, very pretty; two francs fifty for it; but I want tobuy it, not to be redeemed. Any more?" and the dealer stretched out hiseager hand.

  Judy had two more which she got a franc apiece for, making in all sixfrancs fifty, one dollar and thirty cents, enough to get her back toParis traveling third class, since she already had her ticket fromVersailles to Paris.

  "I can't telegraph to Molly, though, I haven't enough money," shethought sorrowfully. "I hate to think how worried all of them will be. Ishould have told Frances about my predicament, but somehow I could notbring myself to ask a favor of her when I have always been so nasty toher."

  The old pawnbroker could hardly wait for Judy to get out of his shop tobegin his work on the sketches, converting them into perfectly good,authentic antiques. The Corot effect he put by a very hot fire, notquite hot enough to scorch it but hot enough to dry it very quickly andbake it, so it was covered with innumerable tiny cracks. Then he tooksome shellac, dissolved in alcohol and mixed with a little yellow ochre,and sprayed this all over the sketch. The result was remarkable. He thenslipped it into a heavy gilt frame (still upside down), and displayed itin his window with the price mark: forty francs, without the frame.

  Judy, feeling a little sad over her beloved sketching kit but jubilantover her financial success, started down the street and bumped rightinto Frances Andrews, who was eagerly searching for her. Judy made asudden resolve to be nice to Frances from that time on. Frances spokefirst:

  "Miss Kean, I do not want to intrude on you, but I want you to feel thatyou can call on me to serve you in any way in my power. We are both ofus Molly's friends and somehow I have a feeling that you need help ofsome sort."

  "Frances--I am not going to call you Miss Andrews--I have been in apickle but since I met you and your grandmother on the street I havecome into a fortune of a dollar and thirty cents, so my troubles areabout over. I am going to tell you all about it, but first I want totell you that I am sorry I have been so rude and hateful and cold toyou. I have been out in the country alone with my conscience all day anddetermined to be a nicer, sweeter girl and to apologize to you and toMolly; but I got on the train at Versailles going away from Parisinstead of towards it, and landed here in Chartres with only six sous inmy purse. When I met you on the street, I felt if I told you how sorry Iwas that I had been so studiedly mean, you would think I had a change ofheart because I wanted something out of you; but now that I have earnedenough to get back to Paris, you can't think that. You show yourself tobe generous-hearted and kind by coming back to look me up after I was sounbearable to you and your grandmother. You have heaped coals of fire onmy
head."

  As the girls talked they had come near the hotel where Frances and hergrandmother were stopping.

  "Well, Judy--I can't call you Miss Kean ever again--I think you aresimply splendid and worthy to be Molly's friend and I do thank you forwhat you have said. Now you must promise to have dinner with grandmotherand me at the hotel and you can come up to my room and rest." And be itsaid right here that Frances proved herself to be very much of a ladyfor not adding "and wash your face," for Judy's face was ludicrouslydirty. "Grandmother said she thought she saw Mr. Kinsella at the hotel."

  "What, Uncle Tom? How splendid!" exclaimed Judy, realizing that hertroubles were at last over.

  Mr. Kinsella was sitting on the piazza as they approached. He jumped tohis feet and hurried down the steps. Explanations were soon over and thekind gentleman took affairs in his own hands. The plan was that all ofthem should take the ten o'clock train back to Paris. Mr. Kinsella wentoff immediately to telegraph Mrs. Brown of Judy's whereabouts.

  The friends in Rue Brea had begun to be very uneasy about Judy. All theyknew was what Elise could tell them of the girl's sudden determinationto cut the art school and spend the morning in the country. Dark cameand no Judy. Pierce Kinsella was called into consultation and couldthrow no light on the subject. Jo Williams consoled them greatly bysaying:

  "Don't worry about Judy Kean. She is the kind to light on her feet."

  So she was, but worry they did. Elise reproached herself for not goingwith her. Pierce wished his uncle had come back as he had half hoped hewould that afternoon. They were a very disconsolate crowd. It was seveno'clock and no clue to their beloved friend. A knock on the door: "_Unedepeche pour Madame Brune!_"

  "A telegram, a telegram!" Mrs. Brown's hands trembled so that Pierce hadto open it for her.

  "Why, it is from Uncle Tom! 'Miss Judy Kean safe in Chartres with me.Will arrive in Paris at midnight. T. Kinsella.' That's all."

  "Well, of all things! What is Judy doing in Chartres?" exclaimed Mollyand her mother in one breath.

  Elise, her face crimson and eye flashing, burst out with: "Lighting onher feet, evidently, like the cat she is!" She covered her face with herhands and fled to her room.

  Pierce looked mystified, the Browns both distressed, and Jo Williamssnorted: "So that's what is the matter!"

  In the meantime, Judy was having a splendid time. Knowing her friends inRue Brea were no longer worrying about her, she gave herself up toenjoyment. Mr. Kinsella dined with the three ladies and Judy kept themin a gale with the description of her day of adventure. That young womannever did things by halves, and she was now engaged in fascinatingFrances and her grandmother with as much spirit as she had formerlyexercised in insulting them. The old lady was completely won over andFrances was too glad to have Molly's friends like her not to want to letbygones be bygones.

  After dinner Mr. Kinsella redeemed the sketching kit, paying twenty percent. interest for the loan. He saw the Corot in the window, where itlooked very genuine in its old gilt frame. He offered the man fortyfrancs for it, including the frame and the bargain was clinched in shortorder. They made very merry over this, and Judy descanted on the geniusthat could paint a picture that looked just as well upside down asrightside up.

  "You see the bit of sky in the upper right corner makes very good waterwhen turned over, and the water in the lower right corner makes a dandysky."

  Mr. Kinsella wrapped his prize up very carefully and said he intended tofool Pierce with his find of a genuine old master.