In Orchard Glen

by Mary Esther Miller MacGregor

  CHAPTER VI

  SAINT VALENTINE'S PRANK

  But indeed there was no time for dreams with the days of preparationfor Mary's wedding flying past. It had been set for the Christmasholidays when the boys would be home, and Annie Brown, who was theneighbourhood dressmaker, spent almost all her days at the Lindsaysnow, for Allister's cheque had bought many yards of silk and lace andMary must be as fine as possible to go away and live in a house in townand be dressed up every afternoon of her life.

  Christmas came with a rush on snow laden wings, and the boys came homeand the old house was filled with noise and laughter. Sandy could notdo enough for Christina, he followed her about, that she might not somuch as lift a pail of water without his assistance, for he was alwayskeenly conscious of all she was doing for him, and his conduct madeChristina far happier than a college course could possibly make anyhuman being. And then came the wedding before anybody was reallyready, as weddings always do, with all the MacGillivrays from PortStewart and all the McDonald relations from Glenoro. And then suddenlyit was all over and Sandy and Neil were gone back to Toronto and Jimmieto Algonquin; and Christina awoke to the astonishing and dismaying factthat Mary had left them and gone far away to live in a home of her own.This last fact dwarfed all others and threw even Sandy's absence intolighter gloom.

  Early in the Winter she paid a short visit to Mary's new home in PortStewart. It was a wonderful place, with slippery hardwood floors thathad to be polished instead of scrubbed, and shiny new furniture, andelectric lights all over--you could press a little button in the hallat the front door and the light would flash up in the cellar; and hotwater upstairs in the bathroom; and a telephone that rang your ownnumber only, and through which no one could overhear what you weresaying; and a piano, and Mary taking music lessons, and she a marriedwoman! All these wonders had to be shouted again and again to Grandpaon Christina's return, and he always ended the recital by clapping heron the back and declaring,--

  "Och, och, indeed, and it is our own electric light that will be backagain, and it will jist be darkness when she is away."

  If Christina came home filled with the wonder of Mary's new house shewas secretly much more impressed with the wonder of Mary's new life.Surely it was having all your dreams come true to be married to ahandsome man who adored you and go to live with him in a fine housewith a piano and polished floors. This must be the Great Adventure,not second even to a college course. What if the road out of OrchardGlen, which she had sought so persistently, and as yet without success,should not be the steep Path up Helicon, after all, but the rose hedgedlane along which Mary had gone? Christina's heart left her no doubt asto which road she would choose, were the choice hers. But when one'sTrue Knight was far away and merely nodded carelessly to one when hewas near, what chance had one? She longed more keenly than ever to getout into the world of wider opportunity.

  The only excitement of the Winter was going to the post office for theboys' letters. They always came on Tuesday. Neil wrote home everySunday of his life and his letter reached Orchard Glen post office onTuesday afternoon. And Sandy wrote Sundays, too, or if he missed hesent a hurried note or post card later in the week. Then there wasMary's weekly letter, an occasional one from Allister, and generallyBruce's. At first Bruce was as faithful as Neil, but as the Winteradvanced he occasionally missed a Tuesday.

  "None from your beau to-day," Christina called out one blusteryFebruary afternoon when she brought in the mail, and handed out lettersfrom Sandy and Neil. "He's likely got another girl in Toronto andforgotten all about you."

  She was surprised to see that Ellen did not take her nonsense in herusual smooth good-natured way. She flushed and said nothing.Thereafter Christina kept a strict censorship over Bruce's letters, andwas slightly troubled to find that they were rather irregular. Ellen'sanswer always went back the very next day, and Christina could not helpseeing that her sister was anxious and worried until another came. Andoccasionally a wearisome time elapsed before it did come.

  At first Christina's unconquerable cheerfulness forbade its troublingher much. Bruce was probably working very hard as this was his firstyear. Sandy sometimes missed a week altogether and even Neil was knownto delay a day or two when examinations were near. As for Jimmie, hedeclared that when he went to college he wouldn't write to them at allexcept when he was home for the holidays. After all it must really bea great deal of trouble to have a sweetheart, as much care and worry,one seemed, as young Mrs. Martin's cross baby. She just couldn'tunderstand anybody fretting over one, and she went round the house,putting wood in the stoves and seeing that Grandpa was kept warm, andsinging,

  "Oh, I'm glad my heart's my ain yet, And I'll keep it sae all my life, Till some bonny laddie comes by That has wits that can wile a guid wife!"

  On Valentine's Day she brought home a whole armful of letters. Therewas one for her from Allister, and she tore it open first, while Elleneagerly opened one she had received. Allister had enclosed a valentinefor Christina, a horrible picture of a tall, thin, frowsy womansweeping a house, and beneath an atrocious rhyme about the cross oldmaid who always stayed at home and swept and scrubbed. Christinaremembered with glee that she had sent him one, quite as ugly, a fatold farmer, mean and tight-fisted, growing rich out of his ill-gottengains. She read his letter, even before she took time to show thevalentine to Grandpa, and it sent her dancing through the house in away that alarmed her mother. For Allister's letter had, once more,opened up the door into the big outside world.

  "I have to go back East on business next Summer some time," he wrote,"and I'm going to make you come back here for a visit. The richbachelors are as thick as gophers out here and I think I ought to dosomething for them, even if I can't get a wife for myself. So I'mgoing to get all the Orchard Glen girls out here, one by one, and Ithink you'll do all right for a start. Campbell and his wife are on myplace now and they'll be fine folks for you to stay with...." Therewas more about the details of her visit, but Christina could not readit for very joy. She went flying around the kitchen waving the letterover her head.

  "Hurrah!" she cried, "I'm going out West! I'm going to Alberta! MyValentine's sent for me!"

  "What's all this?" cried Uncle Neil, coming in from the barn andstamping the snow from his feet. "I hope you're not thinking aboutgoing to-day, there's likely a blizzard on the prairies."

  Christina flew at him, crying out incoherent bits from Allister'sletter, and then rushed into the sitting-room where her mother sat bythe stove.

  "Be wise, Christina, be wise," warned her mother, after she hadrejoiced mildly with her, "I'm often feared for you, when I see you sobent on the things of the world."

  Christina pulled her high spirits down to a discreet level and wentback to the corner of the kitchen, where Grandpa sat in his old rocker,to share the joyful tidings with him. But before she had attracted hisattention from the book of Moody's sermons he was reading, she suddenlystopped. She realised with a pang that this wonderful good fortunethat had come to her would be exceedingly ill news for poor Grandpa.There was no need to tell him until the time was near for her to go.She went back to the table and picked up the other letters she haddropped in her excitement.

  A glance at Ellen showed that there was no valentine message fromBruce; but Christina found three for herself.

  There was a very gorgeous one, all red hearts and lovers' knots, fromSandy. The second was from an unknown source. It was a dainty thing,fashioned by an artistic hand, a little sprig of heather glued to acard to form the letter C. Beneath was written in a masculine hand.

  "My Love is young and fair, My Love has golden hair, And eyes so blue And heart so true That none with her compare."

  Christina wondered over it for a few minutes; the lines seemedfamiliar. Where had she heard them before, she asked with beatingheart. The postmark was Algonquin, but then every one who sent avalentine from Orchard Glen mailed it in Algonquin. She looked at itclosely, and then noticed the s
cent of rosemary. It had come fromCraig-Ellachie! and the little lines were from the song "A WarriorBold" that Gavin sang.

  Christina was touched. It was so ungracious to receive gifts fromLove's storehouse without even a thrill of gratitude. She had thoughtGavin was forgetting her. He was so good, and so kind, too, and sheloved all the Grant Girls so. But how was it possible to make a heroout of a young man who could only sing of heroic deeds, and wouldnever, never perform one?

  She slowly opened the last valentine. It belonged to the class thatshe and Allister had exchanged. It was very ugly and very funny; apicture of a tall, lank woman in spectacles and a college gown, herclaw-like hands holding a ponderous volume. Christina laughed gailyand mentally blamed John, either he or Jimmie was surely the guiltyperson.

  But she looked at the post-mark again and saw to her surprise that ithad a United States stamp, and the place stamped on the envelope wasone she knew nothing whatever about, El Monte, California.

  "Look at this," she cried, running to Ellen. "Who do we know inCalifornia?"

  "Why, what in the world?" asked Ellen in bewilderment. "I've got aperfectly horrible one from the very same place."

  It was quite true, a very ugly and insulting thing it was, with thesame post-mark, El Monte, and furthermore, it transpired that there wasone for John and one for Jimmie in the same queer printed hand with thesame postmark! and as for Uncle Neil's--a foolish old man with afiddle--it was quite the funniest thing Christina had ever seen.

  When John and Uncle Neil had received their insults and laughed overthem, there was much speculation. The family could scarcely eat theirsupper through wondering who had sent them.

  "El Monte," spelled John, spreading them all out on the table beforehim. "Now, who is it we know in that place? I've heard somebody talkabout going there."

  "Oh," cried Jimmie with one of his high-pitched yells, "that's whereThe Woman went! Mrs. Johnnie Dunn's there for the Winter. That'swhere her sister lives, I heard Trooper say so the other day."

  The family looked at each other dumbfounded.

  It surely could not be possible. The Woman had always been a faithfulfriend of Mrs. Lindsay and it was hardly likely she would take all thistrouble to send such foolish messages to her family. Indeed Mrs.Johnnie Dunn would think twice of the money before she spent it on suchnonsense.

  "Indeed it would not be Sarah," declared Mrs. Lindsay as they arguedand speculated. "She would be far from doing such a thing. Maybe youwill find soon who it is."

  But further light on the subject only went to fasten suspicion uponSarah. It appeared that the Lindsays were not by any means the onlyones in Orchard Glen who had received valentines from California.There was such a rain of love's tokens upon the village on theFourteenth of February that Tilly and her father were nearly drowned inthe deluge and had to call in the aid of Mrs. Holmes and Aunt Jinny tohelp keep their heads above water!

  And the day after the Fourteenth was almost as bad, many having beendelayed, probably owing to congestion of the mails between El Monte andOrchard Glen.

  And every person in the village, almost, from Granny Minns to theMartins' youngest and naughtiest child, received a valentine, a veryugly and insulting valentine, too, from that place in California whereThe Woman had gone to spend the Winter!

  At first the universality of the insult was not recognised, as eachperson strove to conceal his own personal injury. But neighbour beganto confide in neighbour till at last the whole evil scheme wasuncovered.

  No one had seemed insignificant enough to be overlooked, no one washigh enough to be immune. Even Mrs. Sutherland and the ministers werenot slighted. Dr. McGarry's was a picture of a quack giving breadpills to old women and babies, and he roared and laughed long and loudover it, and showed it to every one in spite of his sister.

  The Methodist minister's, the Baptist minister's, and Mr. Sinclair'swere all exactly alike, violent-looking preachers with gusts of textsflying from their wide-open mouths, and sly rhymes concerning theirdenominational differences. The pretty little school teacher's was somean that she couldn't go to school the next day, she cried so hard;and Mrs. Sinclair said that, of course, one should be above thesethings, but as far as she was concerned, she felt she needed all theChristian grace she possessed to forgive the unscrupulous person whohad sent hers.

  At first it did not seem possible that Mrs. Johnnie Dunn, thatsensible, practical woman, could be the guilty party. At the veryworst, her friends felt, she might have told the names of the people inthe village, and some foolish mischief-maker--there were all kinds offolks in the States--had done the rest. But as each valentine wasrevealed it grew plainer that only some one intimately acquainted withthe life of Orchard Glen could have chosen with such evil sagacity.

  Who, for instance, outside Orchard Glen, knew that young Mrs. Martinhad been a perfect martinet in her teaching days, but had now lost allher old power with the rod, and her children were the terror of thevillage? And who but a neighbour could have known that Granny Minnsscolded Mitty all day long and pretended she was much more feeble thanshe really was? And who could have such an intimate knowledge of theflirtations of Tilly Holmes, and the dual organist's position held byMartha Henderson and Minnie McKenzie, and the coolness between Mr.Wylie and Mr. Sinclair since the night of the Piper's mistake?

  It was Marmaduke who finally convinced the public mind that The Womanmust be the perpetrator of the valentines; not a difficult case toprove.

  He and Trooper had received quite the worst and most insulting of allthe mail bag and Trooper's was particularly stinging. Marmadukedeclared there was something in it that showed beyond doubt that itmust have been The Woman, but Trooper did not like to say so, seeingthat she was his aunt. But couldn't they see the postmark? And didn'tevery one know that she was visiting her sister in El Monte?

  All the storms of the Winter were as a summer calm besides the gale thevalentines raised. Nobody talked about anything else. They would justwait till The Woman came home in the Spring and then they would showher that she could not insult her neighbours like that and her awaywintering in the South as if she were a millionairess!

  The valentines was still the chief subject under discussion when TheWoman came back in April.

  The roads were too muddy to take the car to town, so Trooper and Marthymet her with the double buggy at Silver Creek, a nearby flag station,and drove home without preparing her for her reception. As they camedown the muddy street of Orchard Glen with the brown fields smiling inthe sun and the first hint of Spring showing in the soft tender tint ofthe willows beside the creek, The Woman declared that it was a sightbetter than California any day, and she was mighty glad to get home andsee all her old friends, and take a holt of things again, for shesupposed that she ought to be thankful if the two of them hadn't leteverything go to the dogs while she was away.

  They pulled up at the post office and The Woman hailed Mr. Holmes andTilly jovially.

  "Hello in there!" she shouted. "Still at the old job, I do declare!"Ordinarily the postmaster would have received her with the utmostcordiality, but he could not forget that picture of himself as the oldSocrates of the village giving forth spurious wisdom, and he repliedvery stiffly.

  Tilly merely shook hands in a great hurry and fled to the back of thestore, and young Mr. Martin, who was there in a panic for a bottle ofemetic for the second youngest who had drunk some shoe polish, did noteven take the trouble to speak, but dashed past her without a word. Hewondered if she would be sorry for what she had done if one of hischildren was to be poisoned. Marmaduke was at the store and Troopermade him climb into the buggy and drive home to help welcome his aunt.Duke was as cordial as ever and uproariously glad to see her, but hewas alone; throughout the village, averted faces and cold looks met heron every side. Even Joanna, coming down the street, who had abrilliant smile for Trooper, tossed her head and looked the other way,when his aunt spoke.

  "Now, what in the world's up and give all these folks
the stomach ache,I'd like to know?" she asked in anger and bewilderment, as theysplashed through the muddy street.

  "It's all about them dretful valentines, Sarah," complained the patientMarthy. "What ever did you send them for anyways?"

  "Valentines?" she exclaimed. "What are you talkin' about?"

  "Why, them Valentines you sent everybody. Most folks is awful madabout them."

  The two young men on the front seat were sitting side by side gazingover the blue-grey landscape with faces of rapt innocence. They didnot appear to be interested in the conversation in the back seat, buthis aunt gave Trooper a sharp poke with her umbrella.

  "What's this foolishness about valentines he's tellin' me about?"

  "Aw, now, Aunt Sarah, you know," he said, turning to her with gentlereproof. "He means them valentines you sent."

  "I didn't mind a scrap about mine," put in Duke generously; "I knowedit was just your fun. They didn't need to get so mad."

  "That's what I told everybody," supplemented Trooper. "I said you onlymeant it for a joke."

  Mrs. Dunn leaned back in the buggy seat helplessly. "If you ain't allgone clean out of your minds; will you tell me what you're ravin'about?" she demanded.

  It was some time before the young men could be persuaded to tell her,insisting upon taking her attitude as a joke. But finally the truthcame out. Every one in Orchard Glen had received an insultingvalentine from El Monte last Winter, and everybody, of course, blamedher and was as mad as mad could be.

  By the time they reached home and had sat down to the supper thatMarmaduke had prepared in the morning, The Woman was angry enough to goout and challenge every one in Orchard Glen to dare to say she had donethe fell deed. She began to question as to who had received themissives. Mrs. Sutherland? Yes, hers was a fright, the Doctor hadsaid, and the Doctor's was worse. Not Mrs. Wylie, surely? Why, Mrs.Wylie couldn't sleep the night after she got hers, and it didn't seemfair, her not really belonging to Orchard Glen. The Ministers? Oh,yes; theirs were awful sights, neither of them preached the same for amonth after.

  Surely Mary Lindsay didn't get one? No, but all the family did, andthe Grant Girls, too. The Grant Girls got terrors, folks said, andthere was some talk about Gavin saying he'd have the law about it.Gavin was awful sensitive about the Aunties and he was firing mad.

  Poor Mrs. Johnnie Dunn, her home-coming was completely spoiled! Shegot up early the next morning, and not even waiting to look over thepremises to see what damage Marthy and Trooper had done in her absence,she hitched up her mare and drove over through all the mud and water toCraig-Ellachie, and took in the Lindsays on her way back. There wasnothing lacking in the Grant Girls' welcome, and she was a littlecomforted but also much disturbed. The Aunties showed her theirvalentines, and Gavin's, but they laughed heartily over them, and Mrs.Lindsay allowed the girls to display theirs, assuring her that she hadnever believed her the sender. But it was beyond doubt that they hadall come from El Monte, and that the addresses had all been printed bythe same hand.

  The Woman spread them out on the table before her and meditated."There's that young villain of a boy my sister has. He's anotherTrooper all over again, and worse, 'cause he ain't got me to trim himdown. He'd be capable of doing it. But he couldn't. He doesn't knoweven the names of folks here, unless Trooper--Trooper--" She stoppedand sat bolt upright.

  "I'll bet," she said deliberately, while Christina fled from the roomthat she might laugh aloud, "I'll bet every cent I make out o' milkthis Summer that Trooper and that other emissary of Satan is at thebottom of this and you'll see I'll find out."

  But the damage had been done. Poor Mrs. Johnnie Dunn had a veryharmless but very great desire to shine before her neighbours. She hadexpected to return to Orchard Glen with a blare of trumpets andastonish every one with her tales of California with geraniums in thegarden at Christmas, and bathing in the ocean in January, and orangeseverywhere for the picking, and a host of kindred wonders in which heruntravelled neighbour friends were to be instructed. And instead shefound the very name of California and El Monte were a byword and ahissing in the mouths of the inhabitants of Orchard Glen, and had tospend the first month after her return in voluble explanations anddenials.