Six Girls and Bob: A Story of Patty-Pans and Green Fields

by Marion Ames Taggart

  CHAPTER III

  KEREN-HAPPUCH, THE FIRST

  "NOT any more coffee, dear," Mrs. Scollard said, pushing back her chairfrom the breakfast table.

  "You have hardly eaten a thing, motherkins," protested Happie in aworried voice.

  "One cannot always be a credit to one's family cook, Hapsie," returnedher mother. "My appetite has been mislaid somewhere between here andthe city hall, in the subway, I fancy."

  "I think it must have gone over to the Gordons' flat, blown the wrongwhistle, the way the grocers do," said Happie. "You never in all yourlife saw any one so hungry as those two boys were last night when wecame home from the park."

  "You had a good time, didn't you, dear?" Mrs. Scollard smiled at hersecond daughter, who was smiling over her recollection of the previousafternoon when she and Margery and Laura had been to the MetropolitanMuseum with Bob and the two Gordon boys, and to tea afterwards in theGordon flat, and had laughed every three minutes of the six hours.

  "What are you going to do to-day, my house-keepers?"

  "Scour our pans, our Patty-Pans," said Happie promptly, before Margerycould speak.

  "My dear, this little flat will be washed away!" protested her mother,submitting her glove to Polly for buttoning.

  "Mother, it truly does need cleaning," said Margery. "You don't see itin real daylight, except on Sunday, but we know! What's the matter?"

  Her mother had caught the back of a chair and swayed slightly forward,but stood erect and smiling in an instant, though her face was a shadepaler than usual.

  "Nothing, dearies; don't look so frightened! There is a shadow thatcomes over my eyes of late, and for a second I am wiped out ofexistence, but you see how quickly I come back! Indigestion, probably;it really is nothing."

  "How can you have indigestion when you don't eat?" demanded Margery,not at all reassured by her mother's explanation.

  "And how could there be digestion when one ate nothing?" retortedher mother. "Now, Margery, don't look like my worried littleseventeen-years-old grandmother! I am not ill. Bob! Come, Bob! I amready for my escort."

  Bob appeared struggling with the over-starched buttonhole in hiscollar, through which his button refused to pass, and with his tiedangling in one hand.

  "Oh, say, Margery, come on, like a good sister!" he implored. AndMargery "came on," rightly interpreting this as an appeal for aid.

  Her soft fingers deftly coaxed the stiff linen over the stud, and tiedthe four-in-hand into the perfection of knots. Bob picked up his hat,got into the coat which Margery held for him, and offered his motherhis arm to escort her as far as the subway station, according to hisdaily custom, with as fine an air as if the narrowness of the exit didnot necessitate her immediately dropping the arm as soon as it wasaccepted.

  Together this mother and son started out every morning, and thepressure of his mother's hand in parting, and the blessing in her sweeteyes as she went bravely away to labor for him and his sisters wouldhave kept Bob safe through whatever temptations might assail him duringthe day, just as her honest boy's tight hand squeeze sustained themother through her weary hours.

  "We mustn't think about it, Margery," said Happie visibly givingherself a mental shake, as if she were a dog shaking off troubledwaters, and answering the unspoken anxiety in her sister's eyes. "We'vegot to do our part anyway. And it can't be bad--it would be so verybad, so dreadful, if it were bad that it can't be bad at all."

  Margery shook her head, and turned away to hide the gathering tears.

  "Don't shake your head," protested Happie impatiently. "I can't bear tohave people shake their heads! It's worse than saying the most awfulthing! Of course she isn't ill, nor going to be! Do you suppose wecould live if motherkins were ill? Well, then! That proves she isn'tgoing to be, because it stands to reason we've got to live. Now, let'shurry these dishes away, and clean those rooms, and make motherkins'room particularly spick-and-span, and then we shall feel better."

  "You're a comfort, Happie!" said Margery warmly, laying her face foran instant on the girl's bright hair. "No wonder mother says you areHappie, our happiness! You are a perfect tonic. You would be the veryone to lead a forlorn hope."

  "I'd rather lead a hope that wasn't forlorn," laughed Happie, wellsatisfied with the result of her effort at cheering Margery. "Just aplain, every-day hopeful hope. Come on, Margery! Polly and Penny, it'sdusting time, but you needn't dust, because we're going to sweep, andsweeping one room in a little flat means dust in all. Perhaps Polly canhelp Laura make beds and get things ready for sweeping."

  This busy household of children had each her appointed tasks and evenbaby Penelope was supposed to be useful.

  "I've got to finish a waltz I was composing; I can't do anything tillthat's done," said Laura. It was not a little trying to find Laura'sgenius in the way of her fair share of commonplace tasks, but Margeryand Happie were used to it, and when Laura would not, why, Laura wouldnot, and there was less than no use in trying to make her see justice.

  "I'll sweep one room, while you dust it, and you can sweep the nextone, and I'll dust it; that's fair," said Margery watching Laura departpiano-ward with her troubled look of elder-sisterly responsibility,wishing that she could coax Laura into playing fair.

  "And begin in mother's," added Happie, tying up her head so tight thather eyebrows mounted a quarter of an inch, the left higher than theright.

  Margery's broom flew, and Happie dusted briskly the chairs set out inthe parlor; it was something like the old-fashioned game of solitairewith marbles to clean in the Patty-Pan; one had to move pieces aboutmany times before they could be restored to their appointed place.Doree considered cleaning done solely for his entertainment, and flewafter Happie's duster till she and Polly and Penny were in a gale of afrolic with him, and Margery had to come out to hug the little cat, wholooked like a dandelion in a high wind, as he raced over the floor.

  The two active housewives worked their way into the third littlebedroom rapidly, leaving the first two of the Patty-Pan chambersguiltless of dust. Laura tired of her waltz at last, and consented togo out to do the errands for the day, taking pains with her toilet,though her calls were to be limited to the grocer, the butcher andthe German delicatessen shop, to fill out Margery's neat list ofnecessities.

  "Wonder where Penny is!" Polly called to the older girls after Laurahad been gone ten minutes, and the silence of the Patty-Pans had beenbroken only by the lively broom and duster.

  "Laura didn't take her," Margery called back. "I saw her start alone.She's in there, isn't she?"

  "Not one bit," cried Polly, as if her little sister were made up offragments.

  "Why, how queer!" Happie said, emerging from Bob's room with danglingduster. "She couldn't have gone out."

  "No; here's her hat," Polly began, but a little crow of a laughinterrupted her.

  Looking up, Happie and Polly saw Penny's dusty head appearing over theedge of the wardrobe in her mother's room, Jeunesse Doree beside it.

  The step-ladder leaned against the wardrobe, explaining the ascent.

  "Oh, Penny, what made you go up there in all that dust? We couldn'tsweep it off to-day and I know it's dusty up there," said Margery."Come down, dear."

  "Doree ranned up," said Penny, whose verbs were subject toeccentricities in their past tense. "I wanted to be up too, so Iclimbed. But I can't come down, not ever. You'll have to come up afterme."

  "I don't believe she can," sighed Happie. The space between the top ofthe wardrobe and the ceiling was so small that the child could not situp, and it would have been impossible for her to slide down to the topstep of the ladder without falling.

  "I'll go up, Margery; let me go," said Happie, and mounted thestep-ladder.

  There was a loud report, the support broke on one side of the ladder,and down came poor Happie, "ladder and all," like Rock-a-bye Baby.

  "Oh, Hapsie, dearest, are you hurt?" cried Margery, flying to herrescue.

  "Well, I
am--surprised," replied Happie, slowly rising. "I don't thinkI'm hurt beyond a few scratches, and my feelings."

  "Now, how'll we get the baby down?" asked practical Polly, satisfiedthat Happie was not harmed seriously, and at once turning to somethingthat needed doing.

  "We'll have to borrow a step-ladder from the Gordons," said Margery."I'll go, though I am not fit to be seen! Do I look a perfect pig?"

  "You couldn't look like a pig, Peggy; you were made so you'd lookclean if you were covered with muddy stove blacking," said Happie. AndMargery departed on her errand.

  She came back with both Ralph and "Snigs" Gordon, and theirstep-ladder. Snigs chuckled at the sight of Penny's smutty little faceon which the tears which she had shed at Happie's downfall had made aneffective paste. Ralph placed his step-ladder and climbed up to rescuethe damsel in distress and the yellow kitten.

  Just then the bell rang, a sharp, decided peal and Polly ran to pressthe button in the kitchen which unfastened the outer door to admitvisitors.

  "Now, who could that be?" cried Margery, dismayed.

  "It could be a postman, a peddler, a life insurance agent, a bill, afriend, a foe, the landlord, company, country cousins--shall I go on?"said Snigs.

  "Never mind," said Happie. "We never have company in daytime, becauseall the girls we know are in school, and mother's friends understandthat they can't find her here except at night. Mercy, there are all thethings from Bob's room in the hall! Nobody can get in."

  "Margery and we came in--and the step-ladder. You shouldn't expect, noradmit, any bigger company in this little flat, Happie. Here is Penny;please take her--eke the kitten. I'll stay up here aloft till you findout what's coming up-stairs, and whether there's room for me and yourguest both." And Ralph handed down Penny to Margery, and seated himselfon the top step of the ladder, folding his arms with a perfectlyidiotic expression on his face.

  The girls could not help laughing, and then the bell at their upperdoor rang smartly, and Margery squeezed through the narrow passage toanswer the summons.

  "'HOW DO YOU DO, MARGERY?'"]

  "How do you do, Margery?" said a voice, strong, insistent, crisp, butdecidedly well-bred. "I have come to spend the night. There is room;there's a couch in the dining-room."

  "My goodness me! It's Keren-happuch, the first," whispered Happie incomical dismay. "She's as nice as she can be, but I don't know how totake her--I believe I'm afraid of her. She pays lots of attention tome, too, because I'm her namesake."

  "Had I better come down?" Ralph whispered back. "Or shall Snigs comeup?"

  Before Happie could answer this important question, Margery and herguest came down the hall; the boys and Happie heard Miss Bradbury set achair on another to make more space for their passage.

  "Happie, I have come to make a short visit," announced that vigorouslady entering the little bedroom. "What in the world are you doingwith two boys here when you're sweeping? And why do you keep one on astep-ladder?"

  "We don't, Aunt Keren," said Happie presenting her flushed cheek forMiss Bradbury's kiss, which was more hearty than the girl realized."Penny had climbed on top of the wardrobe, and our step-ladder brokewhen I tried to get her down. So Ralph brought his over and rescuedher. This is Charles Gordon, Miss Bradbury, and that up there is Ralph,his brother; they are the boys in the next flat."

  "Yes. I hope then that they are more quiet than most boys," remarkedMiss Bradbury. "I shall put my bonnet here, and my coat over the backof that chair. It is not so cold. I wore my medium weight coat; thereare signs of spring--time for it, middle of March!" She spoke in crisp,curt sentences as if not to waste a word. The boys looked at her, andwondered that Happie had said she half feared her. They saw a tallwoman, perhaps two or three years past sixty. Her eyes were keen, buthumorous, her ample mouth was decidedly firm, but not unamiable. Hernose was the nose of an aristocrat, and her garments, though remotefrom so much as an approach to fashion, were of the best materials,worn with a carelessness that betokened them interesting only for theirusefulness to the wearer. Eccentric Miss Bradbury was stern, perhaps,but kind, and rather a fine lady in her queer way.

  "Do you know why I came?" asked the visitor turning from the bed whereshe had laid her bonnet, and giving two rapid strokes to her hairwithout a glance at the mirror.

  "Because you wanted to see us, we hope?" suggested Margery with hergentle smile.

  "Obviously. Never make smooth, meaningless speeches, Margaret," saidMiss Bradbury. "I came, however, rather more because I felt that youwanted to see me. When I feel a drawing to certain people, as if Iwere being called to them across the space dividing us, I know thosepeople need me. It has happened to me at various times in my life,and never has led me wrong. Last night I felt that I was called here;here I am. That may sound to you young people like great nonsense, butKeren-happuch Bradbury is not given to nonsense, and she is convincedthat she is right in this matter."

  "I don't see why not, since we know that there is such a thing aswireless telegraphy," observed Ralph from his perch, whence he had beentoo much interested to remember to descend.

  "That's a very sensible remark, my boy, though you look anything butsensible roosting on that step-ladder in that anthropological manner,"said Miss Bradbury with a twinkle.

  "You don't mean that we are going to need you for--well, that there isany trouble coming, Aunt Keren?" said Happie, her mind reverting to hermother's tired face.

  "I am not prophesying; I am visiting, Happie," retorted Miss Bradbury."I have no idea why I am here, but here I am, and that because I feltsure that you needed me. Better let me get luncheon, and send theseboys home while you finish your work, children. If you came to rescuePenelope from the top of the wardrobe, there is no reason why youshould wait for her to crawl up again, Master Ralph Gordon."

  Ralph unwound himself and began to come down on this strong hint, buthe was not offended; on the contrary he liked this queer person whowould guard his young girl neighbors like a dragon, as he plainly saw.

  As Ralph stood erect and folded his step-ladder the bell rang oncemore, this time with a startling peal, and, as Margery ran to thespeaking-tube and to press the button in the kitchen, Laura's voice washeard screaming in the outer hall: "Oh, open the door, open the doorquick!" and she rattled the knob frantically.

  "What is it, what has happened?" cried Happie, catching the little girlas she half fell over the threshold when she opened the door.

  "Mama, oh, poor, poor mama!" wailed Laura, clutching at Happie.

  "What?" gasped Happie, turning so white that Ralph sprang to help her.

  "She has been sent home in a carriage. Oh, oh, I came along just intime to see her. I ran up when the man rang the bell," moaned Laura.

  Miss Bradbury came forward with a kind of collected haste. "Laura," shesaid sternly, "stop your hysterics. I have no patience with hysterics.As though there were anything dreadful about being sent home in acarriage! Ralph, come with me. We will go down and help Mrs. Scollardup-stairs."

  Ralph Gordon brushed past the frightened Scollard girls, and followedMiss Bradbury instantly. When they returned it was very slowly, andthe janitor of the house, with a stranger who had been passing, washelping them. They were carrying Mrs. Scollard, and Margery and Happieclutched each other, and Laura ran away to hide, fearing to look.

  Their mother's face was ashen, and her eyes were closed. Polly beganto cry, and Penny fled to Snigs for comfort; for the first time in herlife her sisters were not equal to giving it.

  "This way," said Miss Bradbury leading. The men laid Mrs. Scollard onher own bed, and withdrew.

  Her eyes fluttered and opened. "Don't be frightened, children," shesaid. "I'm only tired."

  "What doctor shall I fetch?" asked Ralph. "And isn't there somethingSnigs could get from the drug store in the meantime?"

  "Yes. Go for--who, Margery?" asked Miss Bradbury.

  "Doctor Revel on the corner is the nearest," said Margery, sofrightened her lips would hardly form the words.

 
; "Happie, heat milk," ordered Miss Bradbury. "Yes, go for that doctor,boy; hasten. I suppose we must not prescribe, but I think it's pureexhaustion."

  "Mother put away some of that old wine which you sent her forChristmas, Aunt Keren. She said it must be kept for sickness. Isn'tthat best now?" asked Happie.

  "Old port! The very thing! Get it. I'm glad to see you haveself-control, Happie," her godmother smiled at her approvingly as shespoke. "I am going to make Laura behave herself and look after Pollyand Penny. Then we will undress your mother and make her comfortable."

  She stalked grimly away with a look that promised scant allowance forLaura's twelve years. Miss Bradbury was the sort of woman that expectedevery child, as well as "every man to do his duty," thus outstrippingEngland as interpreted by Nelson.

  By some means she succeeded in dominating Laura, and the two youngerchildren's voices hushed, as Laura took them in hand.

  Then this efficient woman who had come so opportunely to the frightenedtenants of the Patty-Pans, returned to get Mrs. Scollard comfortably inbed, where she lay with closed eyes when Ralph returned with the doctor.

  "You've been a good and useful boy; I thoroughly approve of you," saidMiss Bradbury, and somehow Ralph felt as if he had been brevetted. MissKeren-happuch was such a strong character that her commendation carriedwith it the conviction of a genuine gain.

  The Gordon boys slipped away to their own apartment across the hall.Margery and Happie waited anxiously, holding each other fast, while thedoctor examined his patient.

  "No disease; pure exhaustion, but that is quite enough," he said,coming out through the sliding door to the waiting girls. "She has beenspurring herself on for months; the worn nerves can go no further. Shemust have complete rest and good nursing for a year, perhaps; certainlyfor a long time. Then I can promise that she will be perfectlyrestored. It is nothing serious, nothing to be alarmed about, I assureyou."

  The doctor bowed himself out, and Miss Bradbury attended him to thedoor.

  Margery and Happie stood silently watching him go, each occupied withthe same thought. Nothing serious? When the promise that their mothershould be restored _if_ she took the needed rest held the implicationthat she would never be well without it! And when there was no moneybut what she had earned, earned at the price of this breakdown!Nothing serious! Why, nothing could be more serious, as this belovedmother's young daughters realized with the hand of this, their firstacquaintance with real sorrow, heavily gripping their hearts.