Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  He talked for an hour with the girl, gave her explicit instructions, thrust some money into her hand, and then drove her back to the bend in the path whence she quickly made her way up to the great house.

  Louise was making great preparations to entertain the Woman’s Political League, an organization she had herself founded, the members of which were wives of farmers in the district. These women were flattered by the attention of the young lady and had promised to assist in electing Mr. Forbes. Louise hoped for excellent results from this organization and wished the entertainment to be so effective in winning their good-will that they would work earnestly for the cause in which they were enlisted.

  Patsy and Beth supported their cousin loyally and assisted in the preparations. The Fairview band was engaged to discourse as much harmony as it could produce, and the resources of the great house were taxed to entertain the guests. Tables were spread on the lawn and a dainty but substantial repast was to be served.

  The day of the entertainment was as sunny and mild as heart could desire.

  By ten o’clock the farm wagons began to drive up, loaded with women and children, for all were invited except the grown men. This was the first occasion within a generation when such an entertainment had been given at Elmhurst, and the only one within the memory of man where the neighbors and country people had been invited guests. So all were eager to attend and enjoy the novel event.

  The gardens and grounds were gaily decorated with Chinese and Japanese lanterns, streamers and Forbes banners. There were great tanks of lemonade, and tables covered with candies and fruits for the children, and maids and other servants distributed the things and looked after the comfort of the guests. The band played briskly, and before noon the scene was one of great animation. A speakers’ stand, profusely decorated, had been erected on the lawn, and hundreds of folding chairs provided for seats. The attendance was unexpectedly large, and the girls were delighted, foreseeing great success for their fjte.

  “We ought to have more attendants, Beth,” said Louise, approaching her cousin. “Won’t you run into the house and see if Martha can’t spare one or two more maids?”

  Beth went at once, and found the housekeeper in her little room. Martha was old and somewhat feeble in body, but her mind was still active and her long years of experience in directing the household at Elmhurst made her a very useful and important personage. She was very fond of the young ladies, whom she had known when Aunt Jane was the mistress here, and Beth was her especial favorite.

  So she greeted the girl cordially, and said:

  “Maids? My dear, I haven’t another one to give you, and my legs are too tottering to be of any use. I counted on Eliza Parsons, the new girl I hired for the linen room and to do mending; but Eliza said she had a headache this morning and couldn’t stand the sun, So I let her off. But she didn’t seem very sick to me.”

  “Perhaps she is better and will help us until after the luncheon is served,” said Beth. “Where is she, Martha? I’ll go and ask her.”

  “I’d better show you the way, miss. She’s in her own room.”

  The housekeeper led the way and Beth followed. When she rapped upon the door, a sweet, quiet voice said:

  “Come in.”

  The girl entered, and gave an involuntary cry of surprise. Standing before her was the young girl she had seen riding with Mr. Hopkins — the girl she had declared to be the missing daughter of Mrs. Rogers.

  For a moment Beth stood staring, while the new maid regarded her with composure and a slight smile upon her beautiful face. She was dressed in the regulation costume of the maids at Elmhurst, a plain black gown with white apron and cap.

  “I — I beg your pardon,” said Beth, with a slight gasp; for the likeness to Mrs. Rogers was something amazing. “Aren’t you Lucy Rogers?”

  The maid raised her eyebrows with a gesture of genuine surprise. Then she gave a little laugh, and replied:

  “No, Miss Beth. I’m Elizabeth Parsons.”

  “But it can’t be,” protested the girl. “How do you know my name, and why haven’t I seen you here before?”

  “I’m not a very important person at Elmhurst,” replied Eliza, in a pleasant, even tone. “I obtained the situation only a few days ago. I attend to the household mending, you know, and care for the linen. But one can’t be here without knowing the names of the young ladies, so I recognize you as Miss Beth, one of Mr. Forbes’s cousins.”

  “You speak like an educated person,” said Beth, wonderingly. “Where is your home?”

  For the first time the maid seemed a little confused, and her gaze wandered from the face of her visitor.

  “Will you excuse my answering that question?” she asked.

  “It is very simple and natural,” persisted Beth. “Why cannot you answer it?”

  “Excuse me, please. I — I am not well today. I have a headache.”

  She sat down in a rocking chair, and clasping her hands in her lap, rocked slowly back and forth.

  “I’m sorry,” said Beth. “I hoped you would be able to assist me on the lawn. There are so many people that we can’t give them proper attention.”

  Eliza Parsons shook her head.

  “I am not able,” she declared. “I abhor crowds. They — they excite me, in some way, and I — I can’t bear them. You must excuse me.”

  Beth looked at the strange girl without taking the hint to retire. Somehow, she could not rid herself of the impression that whether or not she was mistaken in supposing Eliza to be the missing Lucy, she had stumbled upon a sphinx whose riddle was well worth solving.

  But Eliza bore the scrutiny with quiet unconcern. She even seemed mildly amused at the attention she attracted. Beth was a beautiful girl — the handsomest of the three cousins, by far; yet Eliza surpassed her in natural charm, and seemed well aware of the fact. Her manner was neither independent nor assertive, but rather one of well-bred composure and calm reliance. Beth felt that she was intruding and knew that she ought to go; yet some fascination held her to the spot. Her eyes wandered to the maid’s hands. However her features and form might repress any evidence of nervousness, these hands told a different story. The thin fingers clasped and unclasped in little spasmodic jerks and belied the quiet smile upon the face above them.

  “I wish,” said Beth, slowly, “I knew you.”

  A sudden wave of scarlet swept over Eliza’s face. She rose quickly to her feet, with an impetuous gesture that made her visitor catch her breath.

  “I wish I knew myself,” she cried, fiercely. “Why do you annoy me in this manner? What am I to you? Will you leave me alone in my own room, or must I go away to escape you?”

  “I will go,” said Beth, a little frightened at the passionate appeal.

  Eliza closed the door behind her with a decided slam, and a key clicked in the lock. The sound made Beth indignant, and she hurried back to where her cousins were busy with the laughing, chattering throng of visitors.

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE BOOMERANG

  The lawn fjte was a tremendous success, and every farmer’s wife was proud of her satin badge bearing the monogram: “W. P. L.,” and the words: “FORBES FOR REPRESENTATIVE.”

  Certain edibles, such as charlotte-russe, Spanish cream, wine jellies and mousses, to say nothing of the caviars and anchovies, were wholly unknown to them; but they ate the dainties with a wise disregard of their inexperience and enjoyed them immensely.

  The old butler was a general in his way, and in view of the fact that the staff of servants at Elmhurst was insufficient to cope with such a throng, he allowed Louise to impress several farmers’ daughters into service, and was able to feed everyone without delay and in an abundant and satisfactory manner.

  After luncheon began the speech-making, interspersed with music by the band.

  Louise made the preliminary address, and, although her voice was not very strong, the silent attention of her hearers permitted her to be generally understood.

  She called
attention to the fact that this campaign was important because it promised more beautiful and attractive houses for the farmers and townsmen alike.

  “We had all grown so accustomed to advertising signs,” she said, “that we failed to notice how thick they were becoming or how bold and overpowering. From a few scattered announcements on fence boards, they had crowded themselves into more prominent places until the barns and sheds and the very rocks were daubed with glaring letters asking us to buy the medicines, soaps, tobaccos, and other wares the manufacturers were anxious to sell. Every country road became an advertising avenue. Scarcely a country house was free from signs of some sort. Yet the people tamely submitted to this imposition because they knew no way to avoid it. When Mr. Forbes began his campaign to restore the homesteads to their former beauty and dignity, a cry was raised against him. But this was because the farmers did not understand how much this reform meant to them. So we gave them an object lesson. We painted out all the signs in this section at our own expense, that you might see how much more beautiful your homes are without them. We believe that none of you will ever care to allow advertising signs on your property again, and that the quiet refinement of this part of the country will induce many other places to follow our example, until advertisers are forced to confine themselves to newspapers, magazines and circulars, their only legitimate channels. This much Mr. Forbes has already done for you, and he will now tell you what else, if he is elected, he proposes to do.”

  Kenneth then took the platform and was welcomed with a hearty cheer. He modestly assured them that a Representative in the State Legislature could accomplish much good for his district if he honestly desired to do so. That was what a Representative was for — to represent his people. It was folly to elect any man who would forget that duty and promote only his own interests through the position of power to which the people had appointed him. Mr. Forbes admitted that he had undertaken this campaign because he was opposed to offensive advertising signs; but now he had become interested in other issues, and was anxious to be elected so that he could carry on the work of reform. They needed more school-houses for their children, and many other things which he hoped to provide as their Representative.

  During this oration Beth happened to glance up at the house, and her sharp eyes detected the maid, Eliza, standing shielded behind the half-closed blind of an upper window and listening to, as well as watching, the proceedings below. Then she remembered how the girl had been laughing and talking with Mr. Hopkins, when she first saw her, and with sudden dismay realized that Eliza was a spy in the service of the enemy.

  Her first impulse was to denounce the maid at once, and have her discharged; but the time was not opportune, so she waited until the festivities were ended.

  It had been a great day for the families of the neighboring farmers, and they drove homeward in the late afternoon full of enthusiasm over the royal manner in which they had been entertained and admiration for the girls who had provided the fun and feasting. Indeed, there were more kindly thoughts expressed for the inhabitants of Elmhurst than had ever before been heard in a single day in the history of the county, and the great and the humble seemed more closely drawn together.

  When the last guest had departed Beth got her cousins and Kenneth together and told them of her discovery of the spy.

  Kenneth was at first greatly annoyed, and proposed to call Martha and have the false maid ejected from the premises; but Patsy’s wise little head counselled caution in handling the matter.

  “Now that we know her secret,” she said, “the girl cannot cause us more real harm, and there may be a way to circumvent this unscrupulous Hopkins and turn the incident to our own advantage. Let’s think it over carefully before we act.”

  “There’s another thing,” said Beth, supporting her cousin. “I’m interested in the mystery surrounding the girl. I now think I was wrong in suspecting her to be the lost Lucy Rogers; but there is surely some romance connected with her, and she is not what she seems to be. I’d like to study her a little.”

  “It was absurd to connect her with Lucy Rogers,” observed Kenneth, “for there is nothing in her character to remind one of the unhappy girl.”

  “Except her looks,” added Beth. “She’s the living image of Mrs. Rogers.”

  “That isn’t important,” replied Louise. “It is probably a mere coincidence. None of us have ever seen the real Lucy, and she may not resemble her mother at all.”

  “Mrs. Rogers claims she does,” said Beth. “But anyhow, I have a wish to keep this girl at the house, where I can study her character.”

  “Then keep her, my dear,” decided Kenneth. “I’ll set a couple of men to watch the gates, and if she goes out we’ll know whom she meets. The most she can do is to report our movements to Mr. Hopkins, and there’s no great harm in that.”

  So the matter was left, for the time; and as if to verify Beth’s suspicions Eliza was seen to leave the grounds after dusk and meet Mr. Hopkins in the lane. They conversed together a few moments, and then the maid calmly returned and went to her room.

  The next day Mr. Hopkins scattered flaring hand-bills over the district which were worded in a way designed to offset any advantage his opponent had gained from the lawn fjte of the previous day. They read: “Hopkins, the Man of the Times, is the Champion of the Signs of the Times. Forbes, who never earned a dollar in his life, but inherited his money, is trying to take the dollars out of the pockets of the farmers by depriving them of the income derived by selling spaces for advertising signs. He is robbing the farmers while claiming he wants to beautify their homes. The farmers can’t eat beauty; they want money. Therefore they are going to vote for the Honorable Erastus Hopkins for Representative.” Then followed an estimate of the money paid the farmers of the district by the advertisers during the past five years, amounting to several thousands of dollars in the aggregate. The circular ended in this way: “Hopkins challenges Forbes to deny these facts. Hopkins is willing to meet Forbes before the public at any time and place he may select, to settle this argument in joint debate.”

  The girls accepted the challenge at once. Within two days every farmer had received a notice that Mr. Forbes would meet Mr. Hopkins at the Fairview Opera House on Saturday afternoon to debate the question as to whether advertising signs brought good or evil to the community.

  The campaign was now getting hot. Because of the activity of the opposing candidates every voter in the district had become more or less interested in the fight, and people were taking one side or the other with unusual earnestness.

  Mr. Hopkins was not greatly pleased that his challenge had been accepted. He had imagined that the Forbes party would ignore it and leave him the prestige of crowing over his opponent’s timidity. But he remembered how easily he had subdued Kenneth at the school-house meeting before the nominations, and had no doubt of his ability to repeat the operation.

  He was much incensed against the girls who were working for Kenneth Forbes, for he realized that they were proving an important factor in the campaign. He even attributed to them more than they deserved, for Uncle John’s telling activities were so quietly conducted that he was personally lost sight of entirely by Mr. Hopkins.

  Mr. Hopkins had therefore become so enraged that, against the advice of his friends, he issued a circular sneering at “Women in Politics.” The newspapers having been subsidized by the opposition so early in the game, Mr. Hopkins had driven to employ the circular method of communicating with the voters. Scarcely a day passed now that his corps of distributors did not leave some of his literature at every dwelling in the district.

  His tirade against the girls was neither convincing nor in good taste. He asked the voters if they were willing to submit to “petticoat government,” and permit a “lot of boarding-school girls, with more boldness than modesty” to dictate the policies of the community. “These frizzle-headed females,” continued the circular, “are trying to make your wives and daughters as rebellious and unreasonable
as they are themselves; but no man of sense will permit a woman to influence his vote. It is a disgrace to this district that Mr. Forbes allows his girlish campaign to be run by a lot of misses who should be at home darning stockings; or, if they were not able to do that, practicing their music-lessons.”

  “Good!” exclaimed shrewd Miss Patsy, when she read this circular. “If I’m not much mistaken, Mr. Hopkins has thrown a boomerang. Every woman who attended the fjte is now linked with us as an ally, and every one of them will resent this foolish circular.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Kenneth, “that you girls should be forced to endure this. I feared something like it when you insisted on taking a hand in the game.”

  But they laughed at him and at Mr. Hopkins, and declared they were not at all offended.

  “One cannot touch pitch without being defiled,” said Mr. Watson, gravely, “and politics, as Mr. Hopkins knows it, is little more than pitch.”

  “I cannot see that there is anything my girls have done to forfeit respect and admiration,” asserted Uncle John, stoutly. “To accuse them of boldness or immodesty is absurd. They have merely gone to work in a business-like manner and used their wits and common-sense in educating the voters. Really, my dears, I’m more proud of you today than I’ve ever been before,” he concluded.

  And Uncle John was right. There had been no loss of dignity by any one of the three, and their evident refinement, as well as their gentleness and good humor, had until now protected them from any reproach. It had remained for Mr. Hopkins to accuse them, and his circular had a wide influence in determining the issue of the campaign.