A NEW ARRIVAL
The new idea, whatever it was, was evidently not one to be hastily
perfected, for the next morning when Celestina went down stairs, she
found the jaded inventor seated moodily in a rocking-chair before the
kitchen stove, his head in his hands.
"Law, Willie, are you up already?" she asked, as if unconscious of his
nocturnal activities.
The reply was a wan smile.
"An' you've got the fire built, too," went on Celestina cheerily. "How
nice!"
"Eh?" repeated he, giving her a vague stare. "The fire?"
"Yes. I was sayin' how good it was of you to start it up." The man
gazed at her blankly.
"I ain't touched the fire," he answered. "I might have, though, as
well as not, Tiny, if I'd thought of it."
"That's all right," Celestina declared, making haste to repair her
blunder. "I've plenty of time to lay it myself. 'Twas only that when
I saw you settin' up before it I thought mebbe you'd built it 'cause
you were cold."
"I was cold," acquiesced Willie, his eyes misty with thought. "But I
warn't noticin' there was no heat in the stove when I drew up here."
Celestina bit her lip. How characteristic the confession was!
"Well, there'll be a fire now very soon," said she, bustling out and
returning with paper and kindlings. "The kitchen will be warm as toast
in no time. An' I'll make you some hot coffee straight away. That
will heat you up. This northerly wind blows the cobwebs out of the
sky, but it does make it chilly."
Although Willie's eyes automatically followed her brisk motions and
watched while she deftly started the blaze, it was easy to see that he
was too deep in his own meditations to sense what she was doing.
Perhaps had his mood not been such an abstract one he would have
realized that he was directly in the main thoroughfare and obstructing
the path between the pantry and the oven. As it was he failed to grasp
the circumstance, and not wishing to disturb him, Celestina patiently
circled before, behind and around him in her successive pilgrimages to
the stove. Such situations were exigencies to which she was quite
accustomed, her easy-going disposition quickly adapting itself to
emergencies of the sort. So skilful was she in effacing her presence
that Willie had no knowledge he was an obstacle until suddenly the iron
door swung back of its own volition and in passing brushed his knuckles
with its hot metal edge.
"Ouch!" cried he, starting up from his chair.
"What's the matter?" called Celestina from the pantry.
"Nothin'. The oven door sprung open, that's all."
"It didn't burn you?"
"N--o, but it made me jump," laughed Willie. "Why didn't you tell me,
Tiny, that I was in your way?"
"You warn't in my way."
"But I must 'a' been," the man persisted. "You should 'a' shoved me
aside in the beginnin'."
Stretching his arms upward with a comfortable yawn, he rose and
sauntered toward the door.
"Now you're not to pull out of here, Willie Spence," Celestina objected
in a peremptory tone, "until you've had your breakfast. You had none
yesterday, remember, thanks to that pump; an' you had no dinner either,
thanks to Zenas Henry's pump. You're goin' to start this day right.
You're to have three square meals if I have to tag you all over Wilton
with 'em. I don't know what it is you've got on your mind this time,
but the world's worried along without it up to now, an' I guess it can
manage a little longer."
Willie regarded his mentor good-humoredly.
"I figger it can, Celestina," he returned. "In fact, I reckon it will
have to content itself fur quite a spell without the notion I've run
a-foul of now."
Celestina offered no interrogation; instead she said, "Well, don't let
it harrow you up; that's all I ask. If it's goin' to be a
long-drawn-out piece of tinkerin', why there's all the more reason you
should eat your three good meals like other Christians. Next you know
you'll be gettin' run down, an' I'll be havin' to brew some dandelion
bitters for you." She came to an abrupt stop half-way between the oven
and the kitchen table, a bowl and spoon poised in her hand. "I ain't
sure but it's time to brew you somethin' anyway," she announced. "You
ain't had a tonic fur quite a spell an' mebbe 'twould do you good."
A helpless protest trembled on Willie's lips.
"I--I--don't think I need any bitters, Celestina," he at last observed
mildly.
"You don't know whether you do or not," Celestina replied with as near
an approach to sharpness as she was capable of. "However, there's no
call to discuss that now. The chief thing this minute is for you to
sit up to the table an' eat your victuals."
Docilely the man obeyed. He was hungry it proved, very hungry indeed.
With satisfaction Celestina watched every spoonful of food he put to
his lips, inwardly gloating as one muffin after another disappeared;
and when at last he could eat no more and took his blackened cob pipe
from his pocket, she drew a sigh of satisfaction.
"There now, if you want to go back to your inventin' you can," she
remarked, as she began to clear away the dishes. "You've took aboard
enough rations to do you quite a while."
Notwithstanding the permission Willie did not immediately avail himself
of it but instead lingered uneasily as if something troubled his
conscience.
"Say, Tiny," he blurted out at length, "if you happen around by the
front door and miss the screen don't be scared an' think it's stole. I
had to use it fur somethin' last night."
"The screen door?" gasped Celestina.
"Yes."
"But--but--Willie! The door was new this Spring; there wasn't a brack
in it."
"I know it," was the calm answer. "That's why I took it."
"But you could have got nettin' over at the store to-day."
"I couldn't wait."
Celestina did not reply at once; but when she did she had herself well
in hand, and every trace of irritation had vanished from her tone.
"Well, we don't often open that door, anyway," she reflected aloud, "so
I guess no harm's done. It's a full year since anybody's come to the
front door, an' like as not 'twill be another before--"
A jangling sound cut short the sentence.
"What's that?" exclaimed she aghast.
"It's a bell."
"I never heard a bell like that in this house."
"It's a bell I rigged up one day when you were gone to the Junction,"
exclaimed Willie hurriedly. "I thought I told you about it."
"You didn't."
"Well, no matter now," he went on soothingly.
"I meant to."
"Where is it?" demanded Celestina.
"It's in the hall. It's a new front-door bell, that's what it is,"
proclaimed the inventor, his voice lost in a second deafening peal.
"My soul! It's enough to wake the dead!" gasped Celestina, with hands
on her ears. "I should think it could be heard from here to Nantucket.
What set you gettin' a bell that size, Willie? 'Twould scare any
caller who dared to come this way out of a year's growth. I'll have to
go an' see who's there, if he ain't been struck dumb on the doorsill.
Who ever can it be--comin' to the front door?"
With perturbed expectancy she hurried through the passageway, Willie
tagging at her heels.
The infrequently patronized portal of the Spence mansion, it proved,
was so securely barred and bolted that to unfasten it necessitated no
little time and patience; even after locks and fastenings had been
withdrawn and the door was at liberty to move, not knowing what to do
with its unaccustomed freedom it refused to stir, stubbornly resisting
every attempt to wrench its hinges asunder. It was not until the man
and woman inside had combined their efforts and struggled with it for
quite an interval that it contrived to creak apart far enough to reveal
through a four-inch crack the figure of a young man who was standing
patiently outside.
One could not have asked for a franker, merrier face than that which
peered at Celestina through the narrow chink of sunshine. To judge at
random the visitor had come into his manhood recently, for the brown
eyes were alight with youthful humor and the shoulders unbowed by the
burdens of the world. He had a mass of wavy, dark hair; a thoughtful
brow; ruddy color; a pleasant mouth and fine teeth; and a tall, erect
figure which he bore with easy grace.
"Is Miss Morton at home?" he asked, smiling at Celestina through the
shaft of golden light.
Celestina hesitated. So seldom was she addressed by this formal
pseudonym that for the instant she was compelled to stop and consider
whether the individual designated was on the premises or not.
"Y--e--s," she at last admitted feebly.
"I wonder if I might speak with her," the stranger asked.
"Why don't you tell him you're Miss Morton," coached Willie, in a loud
whisper.
But the man on the steps had heard.
"You're not Miss Morton, are you?" he essayed, "Miss Celestina Morton?"
"I expect I am," owned Celestina nervously.
"I'm your brother Elnathan's boy, Bob."
Celestina crumpled weakly against the door frame.
"Nate's boy!" she repeated. "Bless my soul! Bless my soul an' body!"
The man outside laughed a delighted laugh so infectious that before
Celestina or Willie were conscious of it they had joined in its mellow
ripple. After that everything was easy.
"We can't open the door to let you in," explained Willie, peering out
through the rift, "'cause this blasted door ain't moved fur so long
that its hinges have growed together; but if you'll come round to the
back of the house you'll find a warmer welcome."
The guest nodded and disappeared.
"Land alive, Willie!" ejaculated Celestina while they struggled to
replace the dislocated bars and bolts. "To think of Nate's boy
appearin' here! I can't get over it! Nate's boy! Nate was my
favorite brother, you know--the littlest one, that I brought up from
babyhood. This lad is so completely the livin' image of him that when
I clapped eyes on him it took the gimp clear out of me. It was like
havin' Nate himself come back again."
With fluttering eagerness she sped through the hall.
Robert Morton was standing in the kitchen when she arrived, his head
towering into the tangle of strings that crossed and recrossed the
small interior. Whatever his impression of the extraordinary spectacle
he evinced no curiosity but remained as imperturbable amid the network
that ensnared him as if such astounding phenomena were everyday
happenings. Nevertheless, a close observer might have detected in his
hazel eyes a dancing gleam that defied control. Apparently it did not
occur either to Willie or to Celestina to explain the mystery which had
long since become to them so familiar a sight; therefore amid the
barrage of red, green, purple, pink, yellow and white strings they
greeted their guest, throwing into their welcome all the homely
cordiality they could command.
From the first moment of their meeting it was noticeable that Willie
was strongly attracted by Robert Morton's sensitive and intelligent
face; and had he not been, for Celestina's sake he would have made an
effort to like the newcomer. Fortunately, however, effort was
unnecessary, for Bob won his way quite as uncontestedly with the little
inventor as with Celestina. There was no question that his aunt was
delighted with him. One could read it in her affectionate touch on his
arm; in her soft, nervous laughter; in the tremulous inflection of her
many questions.
"Your father couldn't have done a kinder thing than to have sent you to
Wilton, Robert," she declared at last when quite out of breath with her
rejoicings. "My, if you're not the mortal image of him as he used to
be at your age! I can scarcely believe it isn't Nate. His forehead
was high like yours, an' the hair waved back from it the same way; he
had your eyes too--full of fun, an' yet earnest an' thoughtful. I
ain't sure but you're a mite taller than he was, though."
"I top Dad by six inches, Aunt Tiny," smiled the young man.
"I guessed likely you did," murmured Celestina, with her eyes still on
his face. "Now you must sit right down an' tell me all about yourself
an' your folks. I want to know everything--where you come from; when
you got here; how long you can stay, an' all."
"The last question is the only really important one," interrupted
Willie, approaching the guest and laying a friendly hand on his
shoulder. "The doin's of your family will keep; an' where you come
from ain't no great matter neither. What counts is how long you can
spare to visitin' Wilton an' your aunt. We ain't much on talk here on
the Cape, but I just want you should know that there's an empty room
upstairs with a good bed in it, that's yours long's you can make out to
use it. Your aunt is a prime cook, too, an' though there's no danger
of your mixin' up this place with Broadway or Palm Beach, I believe you
might manage to keep contented here."
"I'm sure I could," Bob Morton answered, "and you're certainly kind to
give me such a cordial invitation. I wasn't expecting to remain for
any length of time, however. I came down from Boston, where I happened
to be staying yesterday afternoon, and had planned to go back tonight.
I've been doing some post-graduate work in naval engineering at Tech
and have just finished my course there. So, you see, I'm really on my
way home to Indiana. But Dad wrote that before I returned he wanted me
to take a run down here and see Aunt Tiny and the old town where he was
born, so here I am."
Willie scanned the stranger's face meditatively.
"Then you're clear of work, an' startin' off on your summer vacation."
"That's about it," confessed Bob.
"Anything to take you West right away?"
"N--o--nothing, except that the family have not seen me for some time.
I've accepted a business position with a New York firm, but I don't
start in there until October."
"You're your own master for four months, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I ain't a-goin' to urge you to put in your time here; but I will
say again, in case you've forgotten it, that so long as you're content
to remain with us we'd admire to have you. 'Twould give your aunt no
end of pleasure, I'll be bound, an' I'd enjoy it as well as she would."
"You're certainly not considerin' goin' back to Boston today!" chimed
in Celestina.
"I was," laughed Bob.
"You may as well put that notion right out of your head," said Willie,
"for we shan't let you carry out no such crazy scheme."
"But to come launching down on you this way--" began the younger man.
"You ain't come launchin' down," objected his aunt with spirit. "We
ain't got nothin' to do but inventin', an' I reckon that can wait."
Glancing playfully at Willie she saw a sudden light of eagerness flash
into his countenance. But Bob, not understanding the allusion, looked
from one of them to the other in puzzled silence.
"All right, Aunt Tiny," he at last announced, "if you an' Mr. Spence
really want me to, I should be delighted to stay with you a few days.
The fact is," he added with boyish frankness, "my suit case is down
behind the rose bushes this minute. Having sent most of my luggage
home, and not knowing what I should do, I brought it along with me."
"You go straight out, young man, an' fetch it in," commanded Willie,
giving him a jocose slap on the back.
Nevertheless, in spite of the mandate, Robert Morton lingered.
"Do you know, Aunt Tiny, I'm almost ashamed to accept your
hospitality," he observed with winning sincerity. "We've all been so
rotten to you--never coming to see you or anything. Dad's terribly cut
up that he hasn't made a single trip East since leaving Wilton."
The honest confession instantly quenched the last smouldering embers of
Celestina's resentment toward her kin.
"Don't think no more of it!" she returned hurriedly. "Your father's
been busy likely, an' so have you; an' anyhow, men ain't much on
follerin' up their relations, or writin' to 'em. So don't say another
word about it. I'm sure I've hardly given it a thought."
That the final assertion was false Robert Morton read in the woman's
brave attempt to control the pitiful little quiver of her lips;
nevertheless he blessed her for her deception.
"You're a dear, Aunt Tiny," he exclaimed heartily, stooping to kiss her
cheek. "Had I dreamed half how nice you were, wild horses couldn't
have kept me away from Wilton."
Celestina blushed with pleasure.
Very pretty she looked standing there in the window, her shoulders
encircled by the arm of the big fellow who, towering above her, looked
down into her eyes so affectionately. Willie couldn't but think as he
saw her what a mother she would have made for some boy. Possibly
something of the same regret crossed Celestina's own mind, for a shadow
momentarily clouded her brow, and to banish it she repeated with
resolute gaiety:
"Do go straight out an' bring in that suit case, Bob, or some straggler
may steal it. An' put out of your mind any notion of goin' to Boston
for the present. I'll show you which room you're to have so'st you can
unpack your things, an' while you're washin' up I'll get you some
breakfast. You ain't had none, have you?"
"No; but really, Aunt Tiny, I'm not--"
"Yes, you are. Don't think it's any trouble for it ain't--not a mite."
Willie beamed with good will.
"You've landed just in time to set down with us," he remarked. "We
ain't had our breakfast, either."
Celestina wheeled about with astonishment. Willie's hospitality must
have burst all bounds if it had lured him, who never deviated from the
truth, into uttering a falsehood monstrous as this. One glance,
however, at his placid face, his unflinching eye, convinced her that
swept away by the interest of the moment the little old man had lost
all memory of whether he had breakfasted or not.
She did not enlighten him.
"Mebbe it ain't honest to let him go on thinkin' he's had nothin' to
eat," she whispered to herself, "but if all them muffins, an' oatmeal,
an' coffee don't do nothin' toward remindin' him he's et once, I ain't
goin' to do it. This second meal will make up fur the breakfast he
missed yesterday. I ain't deceivin' him; I'm simply squarin' things
up."