CHAPTER XI
MISS PATTY'S PRINCE
I dragged myself back to the spring-house and dropped in front of thefire. What with worry and no sleep and now this new complication I wasdead as yesterday's newspaper. I sat there on the floor with my handsaround my knees, thinking what to do next, and as I sat there, thecrayon enlargement of father on the spring-house wall began to shake itshead from side to side, and then I saw it hold out its hand and point afinger at me.
"Cut and run, Minnie," it said. "Get out from under! Go and buy Timmon'scandy store before the smash--the smash--!"
When I opened my eyes Mr. Pierce was sitting on the other side of thechimney and staring at the fire. He had a pipe between his teeth, buthe wasn't smoking, and he had something of the same look about his mouthhe'd had the first day I saw him.
"Well?" he said, when he saw I was awake.
"I guess I was sleeping." I sat up and pushed in my hairpins and yawned.I was tireder than ever. "I'm clean worn out."
"Of course you're tired," he declared angrily. "You're not a horse, andyou haven't been to bed for two nights."
"Care killed the cat," I said. "I don't mind losing sleep, but it's likewalking in a swamp, Mr. Pierce. First I put a toe in--that was when Iasked you to stay over night. Then I went a step farther, lured on, asyou may say, by Miss Patty waving a crown or whatever it is she wants,just beyond my nose. And to-night I've got a--well, to-night I'm in tothe neck and yelling for a quick death."
He leaned over to where I sat before the fire and twisted my head towardhim.
"To-night--what?" he demanded.
But that minute I made up my mind not to tell him. He might think thesituation was too much for him and leave, or he might decide he ought totell Miss Summers where Dick was. There was no love lost between him andMr. Carter.
"To-night--I'm just tired and cranky," I said, "so--is Miss Summerssettled yet?"
He nodded, as if he wasn't thinking of Miss Summers.
"What did you tell her?"
"Haven't seen her," he said. "Sent her a note that I was understudying aman named Carter and to mind to pick up her cues."
"It's a common enough name," I said, but he had lighted his pipe againand had dropped forward, one elbow on his knee, his hand holding thebowl of his pipe, and staring into the fire. He looked up when I closedand locked the pantry door.
"I've just been thinking," he remarked, "here we are--a group ofpeople--all struggling like mad for one thing, but with differentmotives. Mine are plain enough and mercenary enough, although a certainred-haired girl with a fine loyalty to an old doctor and a sanatoriumis carrying me along with her enthusiasm. And Van Alstyne's motivesare clear enough--and selfish. Carter is merely trying to save his ownskin--but a girl like Miss Pat--Miss Jennings!"
"There's nothing uncertain about what she wants, or wrong either," Iretorted. "She's right enough. The family can't stand a scandal just nowwith her wedding so close."
He smiled and got up, emptying his pipe.
"Nevertheless, oh, Minnie, of the glowing hair and heart," he said,"Miss Jennings has disappointed me. You see, I believe in marrying forlove."
"Love!" I was disgusted. "Don't talk to me about love! Love is the sortof thing that makes two silly idiots run away and get married and livein a shelter-house, upsetting everybody's plans, while their bettershave to worry themselves sick and carry them victuals."
He got up and began to walk up and down the spring-house, scowling atthe floor.
"Of course," he agreed, "he may be a decent sort, and she may reallywant him."
"Of course she does!" I said. He stopped short. "I've been wanting aset of red puffs for three years, and I can hardly walk past Mrs. Yost'swindow down in the village. They've got some that match my hair and Ifairly yearn for them. But if I got 'em I dare say I'd put them in a boxand go after wanting something else. It's the same way with Miss Patty.She'll get her prince, and because it isn't real love, but only the sameas me with the puffs, she'll go after wanting something else. Only shecan't put him away in a box. She'll have to put him on and wear him forbetter, for worse."
"Lord help her!" he said solemnly, and went over to the window and stoodthere looking out.
I went over beside him. From the window we could see the three rows ofyellow lights that marked the house, and somebody with a lantern wasgoing down the path toward the stables. Mr. Pierce leaned forward, hishands at the top of the window-sash, and put his forehead against theglass.
"Why is it that a lighted window in a snow-storm always makes a fellowhomesick?" he said in his half-mocking way. "If he hasn't got a home itmakes him want one."
"Well, why don't you get one?" I asked.
"On nothing a year?" he said. "Not even prospects! And set uphousekeeping in the shelter-house with my good friend Minnie carryingus food and wearing herself to a shadow, not to mention bringing trashybooks to my bride."
"She isn't that kind," I broke in, and got red. I'd been thinking ofMiss Patty. But he went over to the table and picked up his glass ofspring water, only to set it down untasted.
"No, she's not that kind!" he agreed, and never noticed the slip.
"You know, Minnie, women aren't all alike, but they're not alldifferent. An English writer has them classified to a T--there's themother woman--that's you. You're always mothering somebody with thatmaternal spirit of yours. It's a pity it's vicarious."
I didn't say anything, not knowing just what he meant. But I've lookedit up since and I guess he was about right.
"And there's the mistress woman--Mrs. Dicky, for example, or--" he sawMiss Cobb's curler on the mantel and picked it up--"or even Miss Cobb,"he said. "Coquetry and selfishness without maternal instinct. Howmuch of Miss Cobb's virtue is training and environment, Minnie, not tomention lack of temptation, and how much was born in her?"
"She's a preacher's daughter," I remarked. I could understand about Mrs.Dicky, but I thought he was wrong about Miss Cobb.
"Exactly," he said. "And the third kind of woman is the mistress-motherkind, and they're the salt of the earth, Minnie." He began to walk upand down by the spring with his hands in his pockets and a far-away lookin his eyes. "The man who marries that kind of woman is headed straightfor paradise."
"That's the way!" I snapped. "You men have women divided into classesand catalogued like horses on sale."
"Aren't they on sale?" he demanded, stopping. "Isn't it money, orliberty, or--or a title, usually?" I knew he was thinking of Miss Pattyagain.
"As for the men," I continued, "I guess you can class the married onesin two classes, providers and non-providers. They're all selfish andthey haven't enough virtue to make a fuss about."
"I'd be a shining light in the non-provider class," he said, and pickingup his old cap he opened the door. Miss Patty herself was coming up thepath.
She was flushed from the cold air and from hurrying, and I don't knowthat I ever saw her look prettier. When she came into the light we couldboth see that she was dressed for dinner. Her fur coat was open atthe neck, and she had only a lace scarf over her head. (She wasa disbeliever in colds, anyhow, and all winter long she slept with thewindows open and the steam-heat off!)
"I'm so glad you're still here, Minnie!" she exclaimed, breathing fast."You haven't taken the dinner out to the shelter-house yet, have you?"
"Not yet," I replied. "Tillie hasn't brought the basket. The chef's beenfussing about the stuff we're using in the diet kitchen the last fewdays, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's shut off all extras."
But I guess her sister and Mr. Dick could have starved to death justthen without her noticing. She was all excitement, for all she's mostlyso cool.
"I have a note here for my sister," she said, getting it out of herpocket. "I know we all impose on you, Minnie, but--will you take it forme? I'd go, but I'm in slippers, and, anyhow, I'd need a lantern, andthat would be reckless, wouldn't it?"
"In slippers!" Mr. Pierce interrupted. "It's only five degrees abovezero! Of all
the foolhardy--!"
Miss Patty did not seem to hear him. She gave the letter to me andfollowed me out on the step.
"You're a saint, Minnie," she said, leaning over and squeezing my arm,"and because you're going back and forth in the cold so much, I want youto have this--to keep."
She stooped and picked up from the snow beside the steps something softand furry and threw it around my neck, and the next instant I knewshe was giving me her chinchilla set, muff and all. I was so pleased Icried, and all the way over to the shelter-house I sniveled and dancedwith joy at the same time. There's nothing like chinchilla to tone downred hair.
Well, I took the note out to the shelter-house, and rapped. Mr. Dick letme in, and it struck me he wasn't as cheerful as usual. He reached outand took the muff.
"Oh," he said, "I thought that was the supper."
"It's coming," I said, looking past him for Mrs. Dicky. Usually whenI went there she was drawing Mr. Dick's profile on a bit of paper orteaching him how to manicure his nails, but that night she was lying onthe cot and she didn't look up.
"Sleeping?" I asked in a whisper.
"Grumping!" Mr. Dick answered. He went over and stood looking down ather with his hands in his pockets and his hair ruffled as if he'd beenrunning his fingers through it. She never moved a shoulder.
"Dorothy," he said. "Here's Minnie."
She pretended not to hear.
"Dorothy!" he repeated. "I wish you wouldn't be such a g--Confound it,Dolly, be reasonable. Do you want to make me look like a fool?"
She turned her face enough to uncover one eye.
"It wouldn't be difficult," she answered, staring at him with the oneeye. It was red from crying.
"Now listen, Dolly." He got down on one knee beside the cot and tried totake her hand, but she jerked it away. "I've tried wearing my hair thatway, and it--it isn't becoming, to say the least. I don't mind having itwet and brushed back in a pompadour, if you insist, but I certainly dobalk at the ribbon."
"You've only got to wear the ribbon an hour or so, until it dries." Shebrought her hand forward an inch or so and he took it and kissed it. Itshould have been slapped.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said. "You can fix it any way youplease, when it's too late for old Sam or Pierce to drop in, and I'llwear the confounded ribbon all night. Won't that do?"
But she had seen the note and sat up and held out her hand for it. Shewas wearing one of Miss Patty's dresses and it hung on her--not thatMiss Patty was large, but she had a beautiful figure, and Mrs. Dicky, ofcourse, was still growing and not properly filled out.
"Dick!" she said suddenly, "what do you think? Oskar is here! Pat's inthe wildest excitement. He's in town, and Aunt Honoria has telephonedto know what to do! Listen: he is incog., of course, and registered asOskar von Inwald. He did an awfully clever thing--came in through Canadawhile the papers thought he was in St. Moritz."
"For heaven's sake," replied Mr. Dick, "tell her not to ask him here. Ishouldn't know how to talk to him."
"He speaks lovely English," declared Mrs. Dick, still reading.
"I know all that," he said, walking around nervously, "but if he's goingto be my brother-in-law, I suppose I don't get down on my knees andknock my head on the floor. What do I say to him? Your Highness? Oh,I've known a lord or two, but that's different. You call them anythingyou like and lend them money."
"I dare say you can with Oskar, too." Mrs. Dicky put the note down andsighed. "Well, he's coming. Pat says dad won't go back to town untilhe's had twenty-one baths, and he's only had eleven and she's got tostay with him. And you needn't worry about what to call Oskar. He's notto know we're here."
I was worried on my way back to the spring-house--not that the princewould make much difference, as far as I could see things being about asbad as they could be. But some of the people were talking of leaving,and since we had to have a prince it seemed a pity he wasn't comingwith all his retinue and titles. It would have been a good ten thousanddollars' worth of advertising for the place, and goodness knows weneeded it.
When I got back to the spring-house Miss Patty and Mr. Pierce were stillthere. He was in front of the fire, with his back to it, and she wasnear the door.
"Of course it isn't my affair," he was saying. "You are perfectly--"Then I opened the door and he stopped. I went on into the pantry to takeoff my overshoes, and as I closed the door he continued. "I didn't meanto say what I have. I meant to explain about the other night--I had aright to do that. But you forced the issue."
"I was compelled to tell you he was coming," she said angrily. "I feltI should. You have been good enough to take Mr. Carter's place here andsave me from an embarrassing situation--"
"I had no philanthropic motives," he insisted stubbornly. "I did it,as you must know, for three meals a day and a roof over my head. If youwish me to be entirely frank, I disapprove of the whole thing."
I heard the swish of her dress as she left the door and went toward him.
"What would you have had me do?" she asked.
"Take those two children to your father. What if there was a row?Why should there be such a lot made of it, anyhow? They're young, butthey'll get older. It isn't a crime for two people to--er--love eachother, is it? And if you think a scandal or two in your family--grantingyour father would make a scandal--is going to put another patch on theragged reputations of the royal family of--"
"How dare you!" she cried furiously. "How DARE you!"
I heard her cross the room and fling the door open and a second later itslammed. When I came out of the pantry Mr. Pierce was sitting in his oldposition, elbow on knee, holding his pipe and staring at the bowl.
Where There's a Will Page 11
