The Enchanted Barn

by Grace Livingston Hill

  CHAPTER VII

  Carol and Elizabeth got on very well together. Shirley was amazed tosee the ease with which her sister entered into this new relation,unawed by the garments of her hostess. Carol had more of the modernyoung America in her than Shirley, perhaps, whose early life had beenmore conventionally guarded. Carol was democratic, and, strange tosay, felt slightly superior to Elizabeth on account of going to apublic school. The high-school girls were in the habit of referring toa neighboring boarding-school as "Dummy's Retreat"; and therefore Carolwas not at all awed by the other girl, who declared in a friendlymanner that she had always been crazy to go to the public school, andasked rapid intelligent questions about the doings there. Before theywere out of the city limits the two girls were talking a steady stream,and one could see from their eyes that they liked each other. Shirley,relieved, settled back on the comfortable cushions, and let herselfrest and relax. She tried to think how it would feel to own a car likethis and be able to ride around when she wanted to.

  On the front seat George and Graham were already excellent friends, andGeorge was gaining valuable information about running a car, which hehad ample opportunity to put into practice as soon as they got outsidethe crowded thoroughfares.

  They were perhaps half-way to the old barn and running smoothly on anopen road, with no one in sight a long way ahead, when Graham turnedback to Shirley, leaving George to run the car for a moment himself.The boy's heart swelled with gratitude and utmost devotion to be thustrusted. Of course there wasn't anything to do but keep things just ashe had been told, but this man realized that he would do it and notperform any crazy, daring action to show off. George set himself to beworthy of this trust. To be sure, young Graham had a watchful eye uponthings, and was taking no chances; but he let the boy feel free, anddid not make him aware of his espionage, which is a course of actionthat will win any boy to give the best that is in him to anyresponsibility, if he has any best at all.

  It was not the kind of conversation that one would expect betweenlandlord and tenant that the young girl and the man carried on in thesebrief sentences now and then. He called her attention to the softgreen tint that was spreading over the tree-tops more distinctly thanthe day before; to the lazy little clouds floating over the blue; tothe tinting of the fields, now taking on every hour new colors; to theperfume in the air. So with pleasantness of passage they arrived atlast at the old barn.

  Like a pack of eager children they tumbled out of the car and hurriedup to the barn, all talking at once, forgetting all difference instation. They were just young and out on a picnic.

  Graham had brought a key for the big padlock; and clumsily the man andthe boy, unused to such manoeuvres, unlocked and shoved back the twogreat doors.

  "These doors are too heavy. They should have ball bearings," remarkedyoung Graham. "I'll attend to that at once. They should be made tomove with a light touch. I declare it doesn't pay to let property lieidle without a tenant, there are so many little things that getneglected."

  He walked around with a wise air as if he had been an active landownerfor years, though indeed he was looking at everything with strange,ignorant eyes. His standard was a home where every detail was perfect,and where necessities came and vanished with the need. This was hisfirst view into the possibilities of "being up against it," as hephrased it in his mind.

  Elizabeth in her blue velvet cloak and blue cloudy veil stood like asweet fairy in the wide doorway, and looked around with delight.

  "Oh Sid, wouldn't this be just a dandy place for a party?" sheexclaimed eagerly. "You could put the orchestra over in that cornerbehind a screen of palms, and decorate with gray Florida moss andasparagus vine with daffodils wired on in showers from the beams, andpalms all around the walls, and colored electrics hidden everywhere.You could run a wire in from the street, couldn't you? the way they didat Uncle Andy's, and serve the supper out on the lawn with littleindividual rustic tables. Brower has them, and brings them out withrustic chairs to match. You could have the tree wired, too, and havecolored electrics all over the place. Oh! wouldn't it be justheavenly? Say, Sid, Carol says they are coming out here to live,maybe; why couldn't we give them a party like that for a house-warming?"

  Sidney Graham looked at his eager, impractical young sister and then atthe faces of the three Hollisters, and tried not to laugh as thetremendous contrast of circumstances was presented to him. But hisrare tact served him in good stead.

  "Why, Elizabeth, that would doubtless be very delightful; but MissHollister tells me her mother has been quite ill, and I'm sure, whilethat might be the happiest thing imaginable for you young folks, itwould be rather trying on an invalid. I guess you'll have to have yourparties somewhere else for the present."

  "Oh!" said Elizabeth with quick recollection, "of course! They told meabout their mother. How thoughtless of me! But it would be lovely,wouldn't it, Miss Hollister? Can't you see it?"

  She turned in wistful appeal to Shirley, and that young woman, being adreamer herself, at once responded with a radiant smile:

  "Indeed I can, and it would be lovely indeed, but I've been thinkingwhat a lovely home it could be made, too."

  "Yes?" said Elizabeth questioningly, and looking around with a dubiousfrown. "It would need a lot of changing, I should think. You wouldwant hardwood floors, and lots of rugs, and some partitions andwindows----"

  "Oh, no," said Shirley, laughing. "We're not hardwood people, dear;we're just plain hard-working people; and all we need is a quiet, sweetplace to rest in. It's going to be just heavenly here, with that treeoutside to shade the doorway, and all this wide space to walk aroundin. We live in a little narrow city house now, and never have anyplace to get out except the street. We'll have the birds and the brookfor orchestra, and we won't need palms, because the trees and vineswill soon be in leaf and make a lovely screen for our orchestra. Iimagine at night the stars will have almost as many colors aselectrics."

  Elizabeth looked at her with puzzled eyes, but half convinced.

  "Well, yes, perhaps they would," she said, and smiled. "I've neverthought of them that way, but it sounds very pretty, quite like some ofBrowning's poetry that I don't understand, or was it Mrs. Browning? Ican't quite remember."

  Sidney Graham, investigating the loft above them, stood a momentwatching the tableau and listening to the conversation, though theycould not see him; and he thought within himself that it might not be abad thing for his little sister, with her boarding-school rearing, toget near to these true-hearted young working people, who yet weredreamers and poets, and get her standards somewhat modified by theirs.He was especially delighted with the gentle, womanly way in whichShirley answered the girl now when she thought herself alone with her.

  George and Carol had grasped hold of hands and run wildly down theslope to the brook after a most casual glance at the interior of thebarn. Elizabeth now turned her dainty high-heeled boots in the brook'sdirection, and Shirley was left alone to walk the length and breadth ofher new abode and make some real plans.

  The young man in the dim loft above watched her for a moment as shestood looking from one wall to the other, measuring distances with hereye, walking quickly over to the window and rubbing a clear space onthe dusty pane with her handkerchief that she might look out. She wasa goodly sight, and he could not help comparing her with the girls heknew, though their garments would have far outshone hers. Still, evenin the shabby dark-blue serge suit she seemed lovely.

  The young people returned as precipitately as they had gone, and bothCarol and George of their own accord joined Shirley in a brief councilof war. Graham thoughtfully called his sister away, ostensibly towatch a squirrel high in the big tree, but really to admonish her aboutmaking no further propositions like that for the party, as the youngpeople to whom he had introduced her were not well off, and had nomoney or time for elaborate entertainments.

  "But they're lovely, Sid, aren't they? Don't you like them justawfully? I know you do, or
you wouldn't have taken the trouble tobring them out here in the car with us. Say, you'll bring me to seethem often after they come here to live, won't you?"

  "Perhaps," said her brother smilingly. "But hadn't you better waituntil they ask you?"

  "Oh, they'll ask me," said Elizabeth with a charming smile and aconfident little toss of her head. "I'll make them ask me."

  "Be careful, kid," he said, still smiling. "Remember, they won't havemuch money to offer you entertainment with, and probably their thingsare very plain and simple. You may embarrass them if you inviteyourself out."

  Elizabeth raised her azure eyes to her brother's face thoughtfully fora moment, then smiled back confidently once more.

  "Don't you worry, Sid, dear; there's more than one way. I won't hurttheir feelings, but they're going to ask me, and they're going to wantme, and I'm going to come. Yes, and you're going to bring me!"

  She turned with a laughing pirouette, and danced down the length of thebarn to Carol, catching her hand and whirling her after her in aregular childish frolic.

  "Well, do you think we ought to take it? Do you think I dare give myfinal word without consulting mother?" Shirley asked her brother whenthey were thus left alone for a minute.

  "Sure thing! No mistake! It's simply _great_. You couldn't get aplace like this if you went the length and breadth of the city and hada whole lot more money than you have to spend."

  "But remember it's a barn!" said Shirley impressively. "Mother maymind that very much."

  "Not when she sees it," said Carol, whirling back to the consultation."She'll think it's the sensiblest thing we ever did. She isn't foolishlike that. We'll tell her we've found a place to camp with a shantyattached, and she can't be disappointed. I think it'll be great. Justthink how Doris can run in the grass!"

  "Yes," put in George. "I was telling Carol down by the spring--beforethat _girl_ came and stopped us--I think we might have some chickensand raise eggs. Harley could do that, and Carol and I could raiseflowers, and I could take 'em to town in the morning. I could workevenings."

  Shirley smiled. She almost felt like shouting that they agreed withher. The place seemed so beautiful, so almost heavenly to her when shethought of the close, dark quarters at home and the summer with itsheat coming on.

  "We couldn't keep a lodger, and we'd have that much less," said Shirleythoughtfully.

  "But we wouldn't have their laundry nor their room-work to do," saidCarol, "and I could have that much more time for the garden andchickens."

  "You mustn't count on being able to make much that way," said Shirleygravely. "You know nothing about gardening, and would probably make alot of mistakes at first, anyway."

  "I can make fudge and sandwiches, and take them to school to sell,"declared Carol stoutly; "and I'll find out how to raise flowers andparsley and little things people have to have. Besides, there'swatercress down by that brook, and people like that. We could sellthat."

  "Well, we'll see," said Shirley thoughtfully, "but you mustn't get uptoo many ideas yet. If we can only get moved and mother is satisfied,I guess we can get along. The rent is only ten dollars."

  "Good _night_! That's cheap enough!" said George, and drew a longwhistle. Then, seeing Elizabeth approaching, he put on an indifferentair, and sauntered to the dusty window at the other end of the barn.

  Sidney Graham appeared now, and took Shirley over to the east end toask her just where she thought would be a good place to put thepartition, and did she think it would be a good thing to have anotherone at the other end just like it? And so they stood and planned,quite as if Shirley were ordering a ten-thousand-dollar alteration putinto her ten-dollar barn. Then suddenly the girl remembered her fears;and, looking straight up into the interested face of the young man, sheasked earnestly:

  "You are sure you were going to put in these partitions? You are notmaking any change on my account? Because I couldn't think of allowingyou to go to any trouble or expense, you know."

  Her straightforward look embarrassed him.

  "Why, I----" he said, growing a little flushed. "Why, you see I hadn'tbeen out to look things over before. I didn't realize how much betterit would be to have those in, you know. But now I intend to do itright away. Father put the whole thing in my hands to do as I pleased.In fact, the place is mine now, and I want to put it in good shape torent. So don't worry yourself in the least. Things won't go to wrackand ruin so quickly, you know, if there is someone on the place."

  He finished his sentence briskly. It seemed quite plausible even tohimself now, and he searched about for a change of topic.

  "You think you can get on here with the rough floor? You might putpadding or something under your carpets, you know, but it will takepretty large carpets----" He looked at her dubiously. To hisconventional mind every step of the way was blocked by some impassablebarrier. He did not honestly see how she was going to do the thing atall.

  "Oh, we don't need carpets!" laughed Shirley gayly. "We'll spread downa rug in front of mother's bed, and another one by the piano, and therest will be just perfectly all right. We're not expecting to givereceptions here, you know," she added mischievously. "We're onlycampers, and very grateful campers at that, too, to find a nice, clean,empty floor where we can live. The only thing that is troubling me isthe cooking. I've been wondering if it will affect the insurance if weuse an oil-stove to cook with, or would you rather we got a wood-stoveand put the pipe out of one of the windows? I've seen people do thatsometimes. Of course we could cook outdoors on a camp-fire if it wasnecessary, but it might be a little inconvenient rainy days."

  Graham gasped at the coolness with which this slip of a girl discoursedabout hardships as if they were necessities to be accepted pleasantlyand without a murmur. She actually would not be daunted at the idea ofcooking her meals on a fire out-of-doors! Cooking indeed! That was ofcourse a question that people had to consider. It had never been aquestion that crossed his mind before. People cooked--how did theycook? By electricity, gas, coal and wood fires, of course. He hadnever considered it a matter to be called in any way serious. But nowhe perceived that it was one of the first main things to be looked outfor in a home. He looked down at the waiting girl with a curiousmixture of wonder, admiration, and dismay in his face.

  "Why, of course you will need a fire and a kitchen," he said as ifthose things usually grew in houses without any help and it hadn'toccurred to him before that they were not indigenous to barns. "Well,now, I hadn't thought of that. There isn't any chimney here, is there?H'm! There ought to be a chimney in every barn. It would be betterfor the--ah--for the hay, I should think; keep it dry, you know, andall that sort of thing. And then I should think it might be better forthe animals. I must look into that matter."

  "No, Mr. Graham," said Shirley decidedly. "There is no necessity for achimney. We can perfectly well have the pipe go through a piece of tinset in the back window if you won't object, and we can use the littleoil-stove when it's very hot if that doesn't affect the insurance. Wehave a gas stove, of course, that we could bring; but there isn't anygas in a barn."

  Graham looked around blankly at the cobwebby walls as if expectinggas-jets to break forth simultaneously with his wish.

  "No, I suppose not," he said, "although I should think there ought tobe. In a _barn_, you know. But I'm sure there will be no objectionwhatever to your using any kind of a stove that will work here. Thisis a stone barn, you know, and I'm sure it won't affect the insurance.I'll find out and let you know."

  Shirley felt a trifle uneasy yet about those partitions and the lowprice of the rent, but somehow the young man had managed to impress herwith the fact that he was under no unpleasant delusions concerningherself and that he had the utmost respect for her. He stood lookingdown earnestly at her for a moment without saying a word, and then hebegan hesitatingly.

  "I wish you'd let me tell you," he said frankly, "how awfully brave youare about all this, planning to come out her
e in this lonely place, andnot being afraid of hard work, and rough floors, and a barn, and even afire out-of-doors."

  Shirley's laugh rang out, and her eyes sparkled.

  "Why, it's the nicest thing that's happened to me in ages," she saidjoyously. "I can't hardly believe it's true that we can come here,that we can really _afford_ to come to a great, heavenly country placelike this. I suppose of course there'll be hard things. There alwaysare, and some of them have been just about unbearable, but even thehard things can be made fun if you try. This is going to be grand!"and she looked around triumphantly on the dusty rafters and rough stonewalls with a little air of possession.

  "You are rather"--he paused--"unusual!" he finished thoughtfully asthey walked toward the doorway and stood looking off at the distance.

  But now Shirley had almost forgotten him in the excitement of the view.

  "Just think of waking up to that every morning," she declared with asweep of her little blue-clad arm toward the view in the distance."Those purply hills, the fringe of brown and green against the horizon,that white spire nestling among those evergreens! Is that a church?Is it near enough for us to go to? Mother wouldn't want us to be toofar from church."

  "We'll go home that way and discover," said Graham decidedly. "You'llwant to get acquainted with your new neighborhood. You'll need to knowhow near there is a store, and where your neighbors live. We'llreconnoitre a little. Are you ready to go?"

  "Oh, yes. I'm afraid we have kept you too long already, and we mustget home about the time Carol usually comes from school, or mother willbe terribly worried. Carol is never later than half-past four."

  "We've plenty of time," said the driver of the car, looking at hiswatch and smiling assurance. "Call the children, and we'll take alittle turn around the neighborhood before we go back."

  And so the little eager company were reluctantly persuaded to climbinto the car again and start on their way.