CHAPTER XIX
PATTY-PANS NO MORE
"IT is such an important decision! I make it, but I instantly unmakeit. It is hard to trust a little thirteen years old girl to go awayfrom us all to Germany!" exclaimed Mrs. Scollard. Her voice was fullof anxiety and her eyes were troubled. It was the last minute; theywere expecting the von Siegeslieds every instant to receive the answerto their offer to take Laura to be educated in music. Her motherhad decided for and against it many times in the two days in whichthe family had discussed it. The last decision had been that Laurawas to go, but now, with the footfall of Laura's abductor audible,in imagination, on the stairs, once more her mother found herselfreverting to the impossibility of giving consent.
Laura had betaken herself to her room and to tears, entirely unable tosee her hopes wavering.
"It isn't as though Laura were good for anything else, motherums,"repeated Happie. She kept coming back to this argument, which was notmeant unkindly, though it had rather that ring. It struck her as asound argument, for Laura being created especially for music it must beright to fall into line with this opportunity to develop her.
"Charlotte, my dear," Aunt Keren began patiently, for the unnumberedtime. "I have known little Mrs. Stew--von Siegeslied a great while,and you know that I would not let one of our children go away inuntried hands. She will train Laura up just as you would have done. Asto her husband, don't you think that a man who has suffered bitterlyfrom giving himself over to the selfishness of genius will be a goodcorrective to our little girl's inclination to selfishness, and tocounting her art more than her heart? We all know what he is as amusical guide. And as to the obligation, Mr. von Siegeslied has set hisheart on taking Laura. It will really be a favor to him to let him havethe girl to train, and, while his wife would rather steal Happie, orPolly or Penny, still she will rejoice in having any one of the littleScollards to bring young girlhood into her home. Once more, Charlotte,while I shrink from the responsibility of a decision, still some onemust take it, and I strongly advise you to ship your third girl toGermany."
Bob whistled "Die Wacht am Rhein" under his breath, absent-mindedly.His mother turned appealing eyes on him, and just then the bell rang.
"Sie sind da gewesen--sein!" Bob ended triumphantly, after a breath'shesitation on the possibility of another form of the verb, actingon the serviceable German conviction that the more terminal verbalforms the better. German was not Bob's strong point. "There they are,motherums! Well, I say let Laura go. She'll never make a commonplace,domestic, old fashioned girl, like Margery, Happie and Polly--Penny,too, when she gets big enough, so let's try her in the big world. Idon't believe one of your girls could turn out much awry, or for long.Transport her, motherums!"
"Yes, mother, it seems to be for the best," agreed Margery, her eyesreflecting the anxiety in her mother's as they met.
Then Polly opened the door, and Mr. and Mrs. von Siegeslied came in.Mrs. Stewart was changed in more than name. Years had dropped from hershoulders, her face was radiant. And could this be the mysterious,shadowy Herr Lieder? The Herr Baron von Siegeslied overflowed withcharm. The gloom had vanished from his eyes and mouth. In repose hisface still looked life-worn, but joy and peace had taken the place ofhis morosely forbidding look.
Penny watched his greetings of the older members of her family fromacross the room, and came over to lean on his knee and express hersense of this change with the freedom of her age. "If you'd looked likethis and been Mr. von Siegeslied at first we'd never been afraid ofyou," she said.
"So! And you were afraid of me!" Mr. von Siegeslied laughed. "Laura wasnot. Laura knew me in music, but Happie did better--Happie pitied me,didn't you, Fraeulein Gluecklich?"
Happie looked guilty. "Not at first," she murmured, embarrassed.
"When can Laura be ready to sail? You are going to let us have her?"said Mrs. von Siegeslied.
"Listen to the voice of destiny--I am Destiny," said Miss Kerenbefore Mrs. Scollard could speak. "Mrs. Scollard has had so much todo to make up her mind that when she got it made up she didn't knowit--like some one who had bought a blue gown that proved to be greenwhen it was made and worn. She has decided to lend you Laura, thatmuch is settled. Laura, girl!" she expostulated, for Laura had jumpedup and whirled around, and then rushed from the room in a tempest ofhysterical rejoicing. Miss Keren shook her head. "It is a good dealto undertake, to bring forward the musician and keep in check theemotional girl," she said. "Well, for the rest there are some thingswhich I have decided for Mrs. Scollard. I have taken a house in one ofthe Fiftieth streets and while she has been hesitating I have taken forgranted that she is coming to live in it. There is a family that I wantto bring here, into the Patty-Pans; another little widow, Charlotte,but this one has only two girl children. If you don't mind, she willtake the remainder of your lease off your hands. We shall move yourfurniture into the new house, but not try to put anything in order tillthe autumn, when we return. When must Laura be ready to sail, Mrs. vonSiegeslied?"
"We should like to sail on the steamer that leaves New York a week fromnext Tuesday," said Mr. von Siegeslied apologetically. "It must seemhurried to you, but having decided to return I can hardly wait to getinto my own home."
"And the tea room?" cried Margery and Happie together. Their absorbinginterest in Laura's going away had driven all recollection of the tearoom from their minds until that moment.
"My lease of that building expires in May. Perhaps you can re-rent fromits next tenant," said Mrs. von Siegeslied.
"The tea room has fulfilled its end. It is suitable that it shouldend with that fulfilment," said Miss Keren decidedly. "Neither Mrs.Scollard nor I would care to have the girls down there without you overtheir heads--like a sort of guardian angel, little Frau von Siegeslied."
"Laura going, the Patty-Pans given up, a new house taken, the tea roomabolished--why, it's like an earthquake!" cried Happie.
"I am breathless!" cried Mrs. Scollard at last. "Why are we out in thiscyclone of events?"
"But they are all favorable breezes, motherums!" cried Happie with areassuring pat. Laura came back just then with such an uplifted look onher face that her own family hardly knew her. She went straight to hermother and put both her hands into the warm ones that clasped them asif they would hold the child, even now.
"I solemnly promise to obey Mrs. von Siegeslied precisely as I wouldyou," began Laura impressively. "I solemnly promise to write to youevery day a journal of all I do and think, and mail it to you eachweek. I solemnly promise to work as hard as I can to be as great amusician as Herr von Siegeslied thinks I can be. Because I am glad,glad, GLAD that I am going! And I mean to do everything I can to beworthy of such a great, such a very great, wonderful Opportunity!"Laura was immensely serious and she spoke of her opportunity with acapital letter in her voice.
Mr. von Siegeslied looked at her with the first twinkle the Scollardshad seen in his eyes. "Hear, hear!" he applauded. "That is right, mylittle Clara Schumann! Do all that you can, as I hope we shall do,and nobody can do more--not even Apollo, the chief of musicians! Myintention, Mrs. Scollard, is to take a house in Leipsic--my estates lienot far from the city--and make a little home. My wife will see to itthat our Laura does not lack the home training, while I watch over hermusically. I am much mistaken if the child does not prove a pride to usall. I think she has much talent. If she adds industry to that talent,she will go far. I thank you for intrusting her to us." He had arisento go, and his little wife arose with him and stood with her arm aroundMargery, from whom she dreaded to part.
"Laura has made her promises, please accept a pledge from me," saidHerr von Siegeslied. "I will faithfully look after the little girl,and do for her everything in my power. You will miss your home, Laura,more than you realize. You will have many dark days when you willlong to throw up every chance in life only to get back here into thismerry, affectionate group. The artist must sacrifice much and sufferloneliness, longing, weariness of b
ody and soul. But the recompensecomes. Be assured, Mrs. Scollard, that the little girl shall havethe best of care. And with all my faults I keep a promise. The vonSiegeslieds brought down their name from the crusading days, and theyare men of honor." The former Herr Lieder looked around him proudly,and his hearers felt certain that he would keep his pledge to them andbe good to Laura.
But his sweet wife did better. She went up to Mrs. Scollard and puttingher arms around her, kissed her. "Thank you for lending me the child,"she whispered. "I will do my best. My child is dead."
And after that brief speech Mrs. Scollard's last doubt of Laura'swelfare in these hands finally vanished.
It was not half after nine when the von Siegeslieds went away. Bobrushed out to the kitchen and beat a tattoo on the opposite dumb waiterdoor. Snigs responded in the preliminary stages of preparation for bed.
"Get your collar on--or don't if you are opposed to doing it--butget Ralph anyway, and come on over here," Bob said. "We're havingupheavals, and I'm not perfectly certain whether I half like it. We'vegot news for you--tell your mother to come, and I'll go around andlower the drawbridge for you to get in."
Bob shut the dumb waiter door with emphasis and without delaying tolearn whether or not Snigs was going to act on his suggestion.
"I've called the Gordons," Bob said, explaining his haste to reach thedoor, as he passed the parlor.
The Gordons came, the mother also, and the Scollards poured out theirbudget of news. Laura was to sail for Germany in less than two weeks.The tea room was to be given up, with the dancing school of the formerMrs. Stewart. But--and this was not wholly pleasant tidings--thePatty-Pans flat was to be abandoned, and the Scollards were to make onefamily with Miss Bradbury in the house she had taken much farther downin town.
Ralph, who had been standing to receive all these amazing items, forgotmanners and dropped on a chair, astride of it, his chin resting on itsback. Gloom, nay, positive consternation was on his face.
"You're not!" he gasped. "You're not going to move from here!"
"We are going to keep a hold on the Patty-Pans by letting it pass intothe hands of some one I know," said Miss Keren. She did not say thatshe was going to lease the flat for the Mrs. Leland who was cominginto it, because Miss Keren never spoke of her good deeds. "And Ralph,you and Snigs are going to spend the entire summer in the Ark, theguests of Gretta, as proprietor, and of me as householder. We are notgoing to be separated, dear Gordon boys!"
Ralph's expression of dismay hardly lightened. "It can't be the same,"he said, and his voice was husky. "Look at to-night, how Bob called usover to tell us the news! There's a big difference between being acrossa narrow passage and being four miles apart--especially in winter.We've got to stay right where we are for four years more. This is toonear Columbia for us to move. And when I get through college there willbe Snigs still struggling to acquire learning! We couldn't do betterthan to stay in our flat. Imagine us in it and other people in here!"
He looked at Happie as he spoke, and his head dropped on his arms witha groan that he intended to be mistaken for a burlesque, but whichsounded perfectly sincere.
"Oh, we won't drift apart, Ralph!" Happie cried earnestly. "I thinkwe are the kind of friends that are not geographical friends. I dreadleaving the Patty-Pans myself--don't hear that, Auntie Keren, becauseit doesn't mean I'm truly sorry to go. The house will be great fun.Only----"
"Only you are quite right to love the bright little place where yourbrave mother made a home for you so long," interrupted Miss Keren."But now for the next stage in your progress."
"It will be far, far better for you, dear girls, as you are growingolder," said Mrs. Gordon. "But Ralph is quite right in foreseeing usdisconsolate without you. And Laura is really going to Germany? Andby and by Margery will be married! But the greatest change will beLaura's." She looked at Laura thoughtfully, realizing that it would beanother Laura who would come back to the changing family group.
"She is going over to learn to be a Lauralei," observed Bob, objectingto the note of sentiment creeping into the conversation.
Mrs. Gordon laughed. "Come, Ralph and Charley; I don't think theseneighbors of ours can have any more news to tell us, and if they haveI don't think we could bear up under more. Good-night, nice people!We congratulate you on all these delightful happenings, but you can'texpect us to reach the heights of being glad. It is hard to think ofbreaking up our perfect relations. When must it be?"
"If Charlotte thinks she can accomplish it," began Miss Kerendoubtfully, "it would be better to go up to Crestville the veryday that Laura sails. We ought to be there early, for gardeningreasons--and it would be better."
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Scollard catching her breath. Then to every one'ssurprise she added: "I can be ready then quite as well as later, and Ishould be glad to go."
Margery and Happie knew that their mother dreaded to come back to thelittle home without Laura. It would seem less like a parting if theyall went to the Ark when Laura went away.
Gretta beamed at this hearing. She longed for her mountains more andmore as the warmth of spring increased.
The Gordons went back to their own domain, Ralph with a face so gloomythat it was hard to recognize him whose liveliness failed then for thefirst time.
Bob closed the door behind them and came back with a thoughtful look."Aunt Keren," he said, "I can't go to the Ark with the rest. I am ayear older, and I can't leave Mr. Felton as I did last year and expectto get back in the fall. You know I'd like to spend the summer upthere, but how can I? I think I'll ask Mrs. Gordon to take me in withher boys, and you'll let me come up Fridays, or Saturdays if I can't dobetter?"
"Oh, Bob!" exclaimed Gretta involuntarily, with such profounddisappointment in her voice that they all laughed, and she coloredfuriously.
"I've got to be a man, Gretta," said Bob. "Time's up in which I can bemerely a thing of beauty."
"And for me, too, Bobby boy!" cried his mother. "Isn't it strange thatI did not remember my responsibilities until just now! I can't go offrusticating this summer as I did last year when I was an invalid, MissKeren. Bob and I will board--no, we will stay in the Patty-Pans, andvisit you and the children in the Ark for nice Englishlike 'week ends'every week!"
"Charlotte, dear, listen. You have a new position. You are no longerto be foreign correspondent to your down-town firm, but HousekeeperPlenipotentiary to Her Crotchety Highness, the Princess Keren-happuch.And a sorry time you will probably have of it!" said Miss Keren withemphasis. "To-morrow I am going to get you to meet me with Happie at mylawyer's and we are going to execute certain documents that will giveHappie a legal claim on me."
"Shall I take your name, Auntie Keren?" inquired Happie.
"You are to add Bradbury, but not substitute it for Scollard," saidMiss Keren.
"And not with another hyphen, please?" implored Happie. "NotKeren-happuch Bradbury-Scollard! Because my signature would look likethose paper dolls cut in strings from folded paper--those that all holdhands, you know. I don't need a legal claim on you, auntie dear. I'llclaim you illegally just as irresistibly."
"I never tried to resist you, Happie, but there may come a day when thelegal claim will be useful," retorted Miss Keren. "I will dispense withthe hyphens. Charlotte, as I was saying, to-morrow we will attend tomy legal adoption of Happie. Then she will have a real claim on me. Thefirst thing she would do if she had an income, she told me, would be toestablish you in a house in idleness. I am not going to do that. But Iam going to ask you to give up your position and come to look after anold woman whose dear and only daughter you are. Please don't interruptme, Charlotte. You can't realize how close to my heart is this plan ofmine! And for the other side of it, Charlotte, did you ever read goodlittle books in your childhood in which the dutiful were rewarded andthe naughty punished? I am not inclined to think your new life will beentirely free from annoyance, since I am moving you to Fifty-EighthStreet, and not to paradise. But I think it will be easier than bravingthe world daily as you now do. A
ll these years, more than five, mygirl, ever since your widowhood, I have watched you cheerfully,unflaggingly working for your children, teaching them, putting underfoot and out of sight your own sorrow and weariness of body and mind.Dear Charlotte, like the good little girls in the story books yourreward has come. We will go out of these little Patty-Pan rooms intoour own home, and by and by, if our children--your children, and mygrandchildren, dear daughter of Roland and Elizabeth,--leave us, wewill live on together and you shall help me get ready to follow my twobest beloved. It is all settled, Charlotte, and you cannot hesitate totake what good there is in it for you, remembering the good you willdo me. And don't you suppose I enjoy being the channel through whichyou receive a little reward for your great courage and devotion?"
It was a long speech for terse Miss Keren, but she made it rapidly, andthere were tears in her eyes and a quiver in her voice as she ended itwith hands outstretched to Mrs. Scollard.
Margery sobbed under her breath, Happie walked swiftly to the window.Laura forgot her theme; her hands crashed down on the piano keys andher eyes overflowed with happy tears that sprang out of the warmestspot in her self-centred little heart as she heard her mother praised.
But Bob, who had listened with a face contorted by his efforts toappear unmoved, gave up the attempt at last. He crossed over to MissKeren and lifted her bodily in his arms. He kissed her over and overagain, and he was not ashamed that he made her cheeks wet from thecontact with his own moist ones.
"Aunt Keren, you're dead right!" he cried. "You've got ahead of me inmaking a home for mother, but I don't grudge it to you! And if ever Iforget what I owe you--for all our sakes--then I'm not Roland Spencer'sgrandson."
Miss Keren clasped the big boy close. He could not have thanked herin any words that would have warmed her heart like these. "You're hisown boy, my Bob!" she said. "Girls, there isn't one earthly thing tocry about!" she added, shamelessly ignoring her own brimming eyes."Gretta, you rival our Crestville brook! Next winter you are to begiven an education, my girl, that will more than take the place of whatthe Barkers wanted to do for you! You are part of my plans, Gretta,and part of my family. Go to bed, children. This has been an excitingevening."
"Yes, let's turn in," agreed Bob, somewhat ashamed of his recentoutburst. "And it's _a bas, la Patty-Pans!_ is it?"
"No! Long live our Patty-Pans--it's overflowed, that's all!" criedHappie turning from the window. "It's 'Lochaber no more.' I wonder whatthat air is? Laura, you don't know?"
Laura shook her head. "But I could make a song, if you all would waitfor me," she said.
"So can I--without waiting!" cried Happie in one of her poeticoutbursts which Bob said "weren't real poetry, but were realinspiration," and she began to sing:
"Our cakes have got so full of plums The Patty-Pans can't bake them; Now, by the pricking of my thumbs, It is a witch who hither comes And bids us to forsake them! It's Patty-Pans no more and it's Patty-Pans no more, Then bye-bye, little Patty-Pans, we'll love you as before, But we're going down to live behind our very own front door-- So it's Patty-Pans we love you, but it's Patty-Pans no more!"
This gem of song was chanted to such a simple air that Laura at oncefell into an accompaniment, and the Scollards sang it, marching withdifficulty up and down the tiny room as they sang.
"My dears! The people down-stairs! And we've tried to be goodneighbors!" remonstrated Mrs. Scollard. "It's past bedtime. Pleasedefer your farewell chorus! I'm afraid the other tenants will be gladwe're going!"
"Not a bit of it, motherums!" cried Happie, catching up Jeunesse Doreewho was vainly trying to get out of the way of the celebration. "Howwill you like to be a backyard kitten and not a fire escaper, my goldencatkins? For a backyard will be thine when it's Patty-Pans no more!"
CHAPTER XX
EAST AND WEST
AMID the bulk of trunks and packing cases filling the scant space ofthe Patty-Pans, Laura's importance loomed impressively. There was muchto be done to get the family belongings ready to vacate the littleapartment on the date set, but though carpets were being taken up,books packed, walls dismantled of pictures, the whole dismal process ofmoving getting done, Laura's sublime sense of what had befallen her hadthe effect of narrowing down the entire process to making the genius ofthe family ready for Germany.
"She's pitched on high C--for the high seas--and she drowns out all theother instruments," said Happie, compunctious for feeling disgusted onthe eve of a long separation.
The little girl's outfit was to be simple, for once in Germany shewould be more really a little girl than she had been at home, and astudent little girl at that, whose needs are few. But Laura dove intoliterature with a view to getting points on the outfitting of theheroine who crosses the ocean, and she emerged with convictions as tosteamer chairs, steamer trunks, steamer rugs, sal volatile and numerousother accessories, down to a cap and veil.
"I should like a veil that fluttered on the breeze when I leaned overthe rail to watch the--the dolphins," she said.
"My goodness! Dolphins, Laura! Drawing Neptune's chariot, or just outon a lark?" cried Happie. "Porpoises, more likely! And it would bebetter if they were porpoises, because you know the Mock Turtle toldAlice that no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise. He said:'If any fish came to me and told me he was going on a journey, I shouldsay: with what porpoise?'" Happie laughed with as much enjoyment as ifshe were seven years old, having her Alice read to her for the firsttime. She knew most of both the Alice books by heart--not that one canknow Alice any other way!
Laura frowned. "I am not a fish, though I am going on a long, longjourney," she said. "And I am glad to say there is plenty of purpose inmy journey."
"But you know the Mock Turtle replied that he meant what he said,when Alice suggested that he meant 'purpose,' not porpoise. However,you never did like Lewis Carroll! As to a veil, Laura, that you shallhave. I'll buy you--no! I'll give you one! Don't you remember thatlovely pale ecru thing I found? The one with chenille dots? I'll giveyou that, and it shall flutter on the breeze, just as much as e'er youplease, every near-by nose 'twill tease, till the seasick ones shallsneeze, while the por-phins sport at ease--isn't that a lonely rhyme toget started on?" cried Happie.
"Very lovely, and perfectly idiotic!" said Laura, walking out of theroom in rigid disgust.
Laura's offense at ridicule never lasted long, chiefly because she hadthe genius' chronic craving for sympathy. She came back after halfan hour dragging with her a Smyrna rug, very much worn, but which inthe course of its wearing had worn more on the Scollard nerves thanon itself. It was one of those ugly gifts to which the most fortunatemortals are sometimes liable from their friends.
"Do you think I could use this as a steamer rug, Happie?" Laura askedanxiously.
Happie looked up and out of the packing-case which for the momentswallowed her. Her laugh was so contagious that Aunt Keren came intothe room laughing, and Margery ran in ready to join the fun.
"Only see, Auntie Keren and Margery, what Laura wants to take withher for a steamer rug!" cried Happie. "That dreadful, worn floorrug--Smyrna at that!"
"You funny little Exportation!" smiled Miss Keren. "That would hardlydo. You won't need a chair and a rug, for you won't sit mummified onthe voyage. Be satisfied with your delightful new flat trunk, that isthe only steamer appurtenance you need. Are you going down to close thetea room this afternoon, girls?"
"Yes, Aunt Keren. The three E's are coming in, and the expressman iscoming after our boxes. We are to send them right to the new house,aren't we?" Happie arose, dusting fragments of pine from her knees asshe spoke.
"Yes, except the books that you are giving to the hospital; better sendthem direct," replied Miss Keren. "I am going there now. I'll stay tillthe boxes arrive. Don't you think you ought to be getting started?"
"Immejit, ma'am!" said Happie. She was such a happy Happie th
eseeventful and promising days that she could not talk sober sense.
Margery was ready that moment, so Happie and Gretta and Laura hurriedon their hats and took Polly and Penny down to superintend shippingaway the furnishings of the tea room, and to witness the ceremony offinally locking the door.
It was already a denuded tea room, the melancholy wreck of its prettyself. It had been a successful room, and more than an important one.The girls looked around its walls and stripped book-shelves, andwondered if any other venture could have to its credit in such aspeedy closing so many vitally important results as this one showed.The reuniting of the von Siegeslieds, Laura's consequent good fortune,the endowment of Ralph for college--these good things were the directconsequence of the "Tea Room and Circulating Library Conducted by SixGirls."
Margery took the card bearing this legend from its hooks with areminiscent smile, half pensive, yet wholly glad. Gentle Margery borea thankful and a happy heart in these days. Not quite six months hadpassed since the Scollards had come back to town, and this half yearhad been teeming with good fortune for them all, but it had brought toMargery--Robert.
A step outside made her look up just as she was creeping out of thedeep window in which their announcement card had hung. An old lady,very small and somewhat bent, clad in deep mourning, was entering.She was so unlike her old self that for an instant Margery did notrecognize in her Mrs. Jones-Dexter.
"I wanted to come here once more. The Charlefords told me you weregiving up here to-day," she said as Margery sprang to place a chair forher.
She looked up in the girl's face and Margery could hardly meet thewistful, tear-dimmed eyes. She knew they both remembered that Margeryhad been little Serena's loving admiration.
"We are very glad to see you, Mrs. Jones-Dexter. But we are not goingaway, except for the summer. In the autumn we are coming back to livewith Miss Bradbury in Fifty-eighth Street. Perhaps we shall see youthen?" said Margery, trying to give the pitiable old lady time to gainthe self-control for which she was struggling.
"Ah, yes, I hope to see you, all of you, as long as I live," she said."I have brought you something to-day, each of you. It seems rather likea parting, this breaking up of your pleasant little tea room, eventhough we shall meet elsewhere next year. I wanted your little Pennyto have all of Serena's prettiest gowns and ribbons, if you will permitme to send them to her. She is younger, but my child was small of herage, and they will fit her. And I want Polly to take care of her dolls,with Penny's help, and this little ring is for Polly. And to Laura Ihave brought this pin. Serena was too young to wear it, but she caredfor it a great deal. And somehow I thought that Happie would be fondof this worn little copy of Stevenson's "Garden of Verse." Serena usedto sleep with it under her pillow. And you, Margery, will take thisminiature of my child. It is wonderfully like her, and it is beautifulas a work of art. You loved her and so will doubly care for it. You andHappie are to take, each of you, one of these chains--Serena has wornthem both. Don't thank me!" Mrs. Jones-Dexter put up her hand to checkMargery. "Such gifts are not for ordinary words. Now, as to Ralph. Youknow that I have settled upon him what was Serena's income?"
"We know it with unspeakable pleasure, dear Mrs. Jones-Dexter," repliedMargery folding together the case that hid the lovely child facelooking up to her from the ivory as it used to smile at her up-stairs.
"Tell me truthfully. You like Ralph Gordon? You think he is a good sortof boy?" asked the old lady making ready to go.
"He is the best boy I have ever known--except our best-of-best Bob!"said Margery warmly. "He is upright, truthful, kind and tender as agirl, full of fun, but reliable, and a model son and brother. We thinkthere never could be better boys than both the Gordons--but Ralphis--well, Ralph is the elder. Perhaps Snigs--Charley, will be just asfine at his age."
"Good! I mean to do a great deal for him--for them all--if I approvethem. I knew that your opportunity of judging them was better than minecould be," said Mrs. Jones-Dexter. "My pretty Margery, did you knowthat my grandnephew, whom you praise so warmly, has a boy's love foryour Happie?"
"Dear me, no, Mrs. Jones-Dexter!" cried Margery looking over to whereHappie was busy with Gretta, putting into boxes the last remaining cupsfor the expressman's taking.
"He has," nodded Mrs. Jones-Dexter. "It is too early to be important,but it might be!"
"We girls have been brought up not to play at romance. Happie andRalph are fond of each other, as Happie and Bob are--not as much so,of course, but in that same frank, chummy way," said Margery. "Motherdoesn't like to have us think of romance--till it comes!" Margerystopped, with a laugh and a blush.
"As it has, and early too, to you!" commented Mrs. Jones-Dexter. "Quiteright your mother is! Yet Ralph is dreaming of Happie. We will keepour own counsel, Maid Margery, and hope that the dream may grow intosomething more than a boy's first romance, if my grandnephew is theboy you think him. Happie, Gretta, come here and say how do you do andgood-bye to me! I am going. Laura, _bon voyage_, little girl! Kiss me,Polly and Penny." She stooped to kiss the children, and Polly gave hera gratuitous hug, moved by the expression in the desolate old eyes.But Penny did not get her kiss. Dropping her veil over her face Mrs.Jones-Dexter fled from Penny's warm, living embrace.
There was not time to dwell on the sadness aroused by this visit, forthe expressman arrived earlier than he was expected, and proved tobe so dense-minded that Margery and Happie committed their boxes tohis care with the firm conviction that the cups and other tea roombelongings would go to the hospital and the books to the new house, inspite of the cards attached to them and the girls' reiterated charges.
The three E's swept down like three of the four winds at the lastmoment, just when the girls were giving them up. They were standingtaking mental farewell of the now empty room, bare of all save Mrs.von Siegeslied's piano. This stood crated and ready for its voyage toGermany. It had been too integral a part of the reunion of the husbandand wife to be abandoned. Had it not been for this piano the mysteriousHerr Lieder would not have haunted the tea room, nor been discovered asbut the disguise of the Herr Baron von Siegeslied.
"We can't stay one single second," panted Edith Charleford, provingher words by dropping on an empty box, the only remaining seat, andfanning herself with the hat she promptly removed. "We got late goingto a photographer and getting our pictures taken. Those strip pictures,Hapsie--six views of the face in the cutest ovals, all for twenty-fivecents! We had them done to give Laura, and they are so nice we aregoing to get some printed for you. Here are yours, Laura. Take themover to the Vaterland, and remember we when these you see! Please lookat the left profile on the strip of me! I had no idea the right side ofmy face was so different!"
"Let me see, Laura!" cried Happie, crowding up. "It isn't, Edith. It'salike. It's the left side that is different!"
"Happie, you are such a delicious idiot!" sighed Edith with the mostsincerely complimentary intentions. "There isn't one of the girlssays the lovely nonsense foolish things you do. That's why we can'tget along without you all summer! Do you know what? I've got mamma topromise to go up to one of the hotels--you're to select it--in yourmountains, for awhile this year. We'd like to see Crestville, the Arkand our Happiness this summer."
"Hurrah!" remarked Happie. "We are worth seeing, all three of us.Gretta and I will drive up to call on you in state at the big hotel,and when you return the call you shall come down and play in our barnand ride on our hay wagon in no state at all."
"Hurrah!" echoed Edith. "That sounds fine. Now we must go home. Oh,there are the boys; that nice, independent, kind-hearted Ralph Gordon,your Bob--and Margery's Robert! Is my hat on straight, Eleanor? And amI mashing my bows with my hat pins?"
"No, only trying to," remarked Elsie with a glance that pointed herremark. Elsie did not disdain slang nor a pun.
"Gretta, there is a package mother sent you. She said that you were notto think she considered it in any sense payment for what you did for melast winter. But she did want to give you some rememb
rance, since youwouldn't go to school."
Gretta almost laughed. "That would have been a reminder!" she said asshe took the small square package. She opened it while the others werediverted by the arrival of the boys. It was a dark green leather case,in which rested a beautiful tiny watch. The watch was held by a pin,its design the seal of the State of Pennsylvania, dark blue and greenenamel on a gold ground. A card lay on the satin cushion of the box. Onit was written: "To Miss Angela Key-Stone, from Elsie Barker and hergrateful mother."
Gretta closed the box. Bob looked at her, wondering at the pleasure inher face and thinking, as he thought of late more often than ever: "My,but Gretta's a beauty!"
He said aloud: "We four came to take you girls home from the ex-tearoom for the last time. Nice little place, we're sorry to say good-bye!"
The girls gathered in the doorway. They looked back as Margery put herkey in the lock--the key that she was to relinquish to an agent in themorning--just as she had done when, nearly half a year ago, they hadcome down to see that everything was in order for their opening. Butthen Robert had not been there!
"All together say good-bye, and then, Margery, shut and lock the door!"cried Bob. "Now then: One, two, three--Good-bye!"
Margery pulled the door together, turned her key took it out and handedit to Bob, tried the door to make sure it was fast, and they all walkedaway. The tea room was no more!
There were not many days left in the Patty-Pans. Mrs. Scollard was athome to attend to the duties with which they were filled, at home forgood and all, in fact. The foreign correspondence was over and donewith. It all seemed like a dream, but to prove that it was not onethere was the new house down in Fifty-eighth Street to which frequentvisits were necessary, and the trunks into which she was packing summerclothing for the Ark.
Laura began to realize the great change that lay before her as theselast days slipped past. Her pompous manner began to shrink; in itsplace came a timidity and wistfulness that was most becoming. Lauraforgot that she was a genius and remembered only that she was a littlegirl about to separate from the best mother in the world for the firsttime and for a long time. Although she had grown too tall for rocking,she fell into the habit of creeping into her mother's room every nightat dusk to be held in her low chair and rocked as if she had been threeinstead of thirteen. Her heels scraped on the floor, bare except fora rug left out to lay in front of the bed, but if the heels scraped,Laura's arms were tight around her mother's neck, and mother anddaughter talked and talked, laying in a store of confidence and adviceagainst the days of separation. There was so much that was comfortingand intimate in these twilight confidences that they consoled Mrs.Scollard for the coming parting, even while they made her feel thatshe could ill spare this queer and somewhat remote child from out herlittle flock.
At last there came the morning when, everything finished, the Scollardswere to leave the Patty-Pans. Jeunesse Doree was protestingly strappedin his basket; the two least children were ready, Polly in charge ofthe yellow cat, Penny intrusted with Phyllis Lovelocks, Polly's doll;Penny's family was never fit to travel in the public eye. Laura's shipsailed in the forenoon, and from Hoboken, so that her family was to seeher off, dine as best they could in their station and take the trainfor Crestville which left at two in the afternoon.
Bob was going with them. He was tempted to regret the added twelvemonths which entailed upon him the responsibility of increased age, andprevented his spending an uninterrupted summer in the country, as hehad done the preceding year.
Miss Keren, crisp and brisk as usual in the excitement of marshalingher adopted family forever out of the pleasant little flat into a lifeof greater leisure and more opportunity, tied the strings of her littleblack straw bonnet with a snap. Then she picked up her gloves andturned from the window, with its background of jutting wall, which hadbeen serving her as a mirror in lieu of mirrors packed and being movedout and into the vans below.
"Now, Laura, little girl, bid your old Aunt Keren good-bye, for I amgoing down to the Fifty-eighth Street house to receive these vanswhen they get there. I will meet you at the station, Charlotte, onthe Hoboken side, of course. If anything happened that I didn't getthere--as I shall unless these drivers are more than slow!--go righton to Crestville, and send Don Dolor down to the noon train to meet meto-morrow. Good-bye, Laura child. Remember to work hard at your music,but harder at your character. God bless you, dear."
Miss Keren walked away without a backward glance at the littlePatty-Pans. But its proper tenants gave it many last looks as theyslowly filed out. It had been home for nearly six years, and, "be itever so flat, home is home," as Bob truthfully said. The Scollardsleft their own furniture slowly starting away from the house. Thejanitor and the hall boy waved them a farewell, but the Gordon flat wasblank.
First among the crowd on the dock of the great white liner was Ralph,and just behind him was Snigs with their mother, and to their right allof Happie's E's, Robert Gaston and the von Siegeslieds, waiting thecoming of the Scollards.
There was not much time for lingering; the Scollards were somewhatlater in arriving than they had meant to be. The entire party crowdedover the gangway and on to the swarming deck of the ship, amid thegroups of gay, tearful, excited and tired people about to sail or tosay good-bye.
There was time to inspect the stateroom which Laura was to share withMrs. von Siegeslied, time to peep at the salon, and rapidly to glanceat the decks and then to return to the stateroom to admire the flowerswhich had been sent by her pupils to her who had been Mrs. Stewart,and whose interesting change of name and fortune had been an absorbingtopic for a day or two among her friends.
"Must you go, mamma?" asked Laura, looking white and helpless.
"I go west and you go east, Laura. Suppose I leave you here? Then aftera little while Mrs. von Siegeslied will bring you out on deck and youwill see us and wave to us as you steam out and we watch you from thedock!" proposed Mrs. Scollard cheerfully.
But Laura felt her mother's arms tighten around her as the little girlclutched her. "I'll say good-bye to you all here: Penny first," saidLaura.
Penny kissed her again and again as Laura devoured the Scollardbaby's soft cheek. Next Polly, quiet and staid and deeply impressed,kissed good-bye this first sister to leave her. Happie hugged Lauraspeechlessly and relinquished her to Margery, who folded her in herarms in an embrace almost maternal.
"I'll kiss you good-bye, Robert, because you may be my brother whileI'm gone," sobbed Laura, overcome by this leave taking.
Robert kissed the child and put into her hot hands a small package. "Aconsolation prize; open it after you start," he whispered.
Ralph, Snigs, Mrs. Gordon, Mrs. Charleford, all the E's, bade Lauragood-bye with warm good wishes.
"Mamma, dear, dearest mamma!" whispered Laura, and mother and daughterheld each other close for a minute.
"But I'm glad, I'm very glad I'm going, and I shall come back famous!"declared Laura bravely, though tears made the prophecy difficult.
The Scollards drew up in line on the dock. Bob had joined them. He hadlingered to say good-bye to Laura after the others, with a word ofelder brotherly council that he had not cared to let any one else hear.
The great white ship swung out of the slip and into the open stream.The bright May sunshine lighted her clean scrubbed decks and illuminedthe pale and tear-stained, yet jubilant face of the little aspirant forglory. Laura waved her hands to her assembled family, held fast on oneside by Mrs. von Siegeslied's arm, and on the other by the hand of himwho had been Herr Lieder, laid caressingly and with a promise in itstouch, on her shoulder.
"We are a fortunate family!" declared Happie. "The six luckiest girlsin the world."
"And boy," supplemented Bob. "Laura eastward, we westward! Now to dine,and then: Ho for Crestville and our mountains and green fields oncemore!"
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
page 22 Magaret changed to Margaret (our beloved sisters
Margaret and Keren-happuch)
page 43 solt changed to soft (Laura's a soft, faded pink)
page 137 forgiveingly changed to forgivingly (with a soul far from forgivingly at peace)
page 190 hasband changed to husband (Elizabeth Spencer and her husband)
page 194 sphagetti changed to spaghetti (steaming dishful of spaghetti)
page 283 Leider changed to Lieder (You are her husband, Herr Lieder)
Happie, Happy, Hapsie are used as nicknames for Keren-happach.
Six Girls and the Tea Room Page 21
