THE HOME
It was late in the afternoon when Ralph and Miriam Haverley alighted at
the station at Thorbury. Miss Dora Bannister, who had come down to see a
friend off, noticed the two standing on the platform. She did not know
who they were, but she thought the one to be a very handsome young man,
and the other a nice-looking girl who seemed to be all eyes.
"What a queer-looking colored man!" said Miriam. "He looks mashed on
top."
The person alluded to was getting down from a wagon drawn by a mournful
horse, and now approached the platform.
"Is you Mr. Hav'ley, sir?" he said, touching his hat. "Thought so; I'm
the man in charge o' yer place. Got any baggage, sir?"
On being informed that the travellers had brought three trunks with them,
and that some boxes would be expected on the morrow, Mike, who with his
worn felt hat pressed flat upon his head, might give one the idea of a
bottle with the cork driven in, stood for a moment in thought.
"I can take one trunk," he said, "the one ye will want the most tonight,
and ye'd better have the others hauled over tomorrow with the boxes. Ye
can both go in the wagon, if ye like. The seat can be pushed back, and I
can sit on the trunk myself, or ye can hire a kerridge."
"Of course we will take a cab," said Ralph. "How far is it to Cobhurst?"
"Well, some says three miles, and some says four. It depends a good deal
on the roads. They're pretty good today."
Having engaged the services of a country cabman, who declared that he
had known Cobhurst ever since he was born, and having arranged for
the transfer of their goods the next day, the Haverleys rattled out
of the town.
"Now," said Miriam, "we are truly going home, and I do not remember ever
doing that before. And, Ralph," she continued, after gazing right and
left from the cab windows, "one of the first things we ought to do is to
get a new man to take charge of the place. That person isn't fit. I never
saw such slouchy clothes."
Ralph laughed. "I am the man who is to have charge of the place," he
said. "What do you think of my clothes?"
Miriam gave a little pull at his hair for reply. "And there is another
thing," she continued. "If that is our horse and wagon, don't you really
think that we ought to sell them? They are awful."
"Don't be in a hurry," said Ralph. "We shall soon find out whether we own
the horse or not. He may belong to the man. He's not a bad one, either.
See, he is passing us now with that big trunk in the wagon."
"Passing us!" exclaimed Miriam. "Almost any horse could do that. Did you
ever see such an old poke as we have, and such a bouncy, jolting
rattletrap of a carriage? It squeaks all over."
"Alas," said Ralph, "I am thinking of something worse than jolts or
squeaks. I am hungry, and I am sure you must be, and I don't see what we
are going to do about supper. I am afraid I am not a very good manager,
yet. I had an idea that Cobhurst was not so far from the station, and
that we could go over and look at the house, and come back to a hotel and
stay there for the night; but now I see it will be dark before we get
there, and we shall not feel like turning round and going directly back.
Perhaps it would be better to turn now."
"Turn back, when we are going to our home!" cried Miriam. "How can you
think of such a thing, Ralph? And you needn't suppose that neither of us
is a good manager. I am housekeeper now, and I did not forget that we
shall need our supper. I have it all there in my bag, and I shall cook
it as soon as we reach the house. Of course I knew that we could not
expect anything to eat in a place with only a man to take care of it."
"What in the world have you?" asked Ralph, much amused.
"I have four breakfast rolls," she said, "six mutton chops, a package of
ground coffee, another of tea, a pound of sugar, and a good big piece of
gingerbread. I am sorry I couldn't bring any butter, but I was afraid
that might melt in a warm car, and run over everything. As for milk, we
shall have to make up our minds to do without that for one meal. I got up
early this morning, and went out and bought all these things."
Ralph was on the point of saying, "What are we going to have for
breakfast?" But he would not trouble his sister's mind with any such
suggestions.
"You are a good little housewife," said he; "I wish we were there, and
sitting down at the table--if there is any table."
"I have thought it all out," said Miriam, "if it is one of those large
farm-houses, with a big kitchen, where the family eat and spend their
evening, we shall eat there, too, this once. You shall build a fire,
and I'll have the coffee made in no time. There must be a coffee-pot,
or a tin cup, or something to boil in. The chops can be broiled over
the coals."
"On what?" asked Ralph.
"You can get a pointed stick and toast them, if there is no other way,
sir. And you need not make fun of my supper; the chops are very nice
ones, and I have wrapped them up in oiled silk, so that they will not
grease the other things."
"Oh, don't talk any more about them," exclaimed Ralph. "It makes me too
dreadfully hungry."
"If it is a cottage," remarked Miriam, looking reflectively out of the
window, "I cannot get it out of mind that there will be all sorts of
kitchen things hanging around the old-fashioned fireplace. That would be
very nice and convenient, but--"
"You hope it is not a cottage?" said her brother.
"Well," answered Miriam, presently, "home is home, and I made up my mind
to be perfectly satisfied with it whatever kind of house it may be. It
seems to me that a real home ought to be like parents and relations;
we've got them, and we can't change them, and we never think of such a
thing. We love them quite as they are. But I cannot help hoping, just a
little, that it is not a cottage. The only ones I have ever been in smelt
so much of soapsuds."
It was now quite dark, and the road appeared to be growing rougher. Every
now and then they jolted over a big stone, or sunk into a deep rut. Ralph
let down the front window.
"Are we nearly there?" he asked of the driver.
"Yes, sir," said the man; "we are on the place now."
"You don't mean," exclaimed Miriam, "that this is our road!"
"It's a good deal washed just here," said the man, "by the heavy rains."
Presently the road became smoother and in a few minutes the
carriage stopped.
"I am trembling all over," said Miriam, "with thinking of being at home,
and with not an idea of what it is like."
In a moment they were standing on a broad flagstone. Although it was
dark, they could see the outline of the house before them.
"Ralph," whispered Miriam, drawing close to her brother, "it is not a
cottage." Without waiting for a reply she went on: "Ralph," she said, her
hands trembling as they held his arm, "it is lordly."
"I had some sort of an idea like that myself," he answered; "but, my
dear, don't you think it will be well to keep this man until we go inside
and see what sort of accommodations we shall find? Perhaps we may be
obliged to go back to the town."
Miriam immediately began to ascend the broad steps of the piazza.
"Come on, Ralph," she said, "and please don't talk like that."
Her brother laughed, paid the driver and dismissed him.
"Now, little girl," he cried, "we have burned our ships, and must take
what we shall find."
"Oh, Ralph," cried Miriam, "I couldn't have gone back. If there are
floors to the rooms, they will do to sleep on for to-night."
At this moment a wide front door opened, revealing a colored woman
holding a lamp.
"Good evenin'," said she; "walk in."
When Ralph and Miriam had entered, the woman looked out the open door.
"Is you all?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," said Ralph.
The woman hesitated a moment, looked out again, and then closed the door.
"Would you like to go to your rooms afore supper?" she asked.
The brother and sister were so absorbed in gazing about them, that they
did not hear the question. The lamp, still in the woman's hand, gave a
poor and vacillating light, but they could see a wide, long hall, tall
doors opening on each side, some high-backed chairs, and other
dark-colored furniture.
"Yer rooms is ready," continued the woman; "ye can take yer pick of them.
Supper'll be on the table the minute ye come down. Ye'd better take this
lamp, sir, and thar's another one in the upper hall. I expect ye two is
brother and sister. Ye're alike as two pins of different sizes."
"You're right," said Ralph, holding up the lamp, and looking about him;
"but please tell me, where are the stairs?"
"Oh, yer open that glass door right in front of ye," said the woman. "I'd
go with yer, but I smell somethin' bilin' over now."
Opening the glass door, they saw before them a narrow staircase in
two flights.
"Stairs shut up in a room of their own," said Ralph, as they ascended.
"Did you ever see anything like this before?"
"I never saw anything like anything before," said Miriam, in a low,
reverent voice.
On the floor above they found another wide hall, and four or five
open doors.
"There is your lamp," said Ralph to his sister; "take the first room you
come to, and to-morrow we will pick and choose."
"Who would have thought," said Miriam, "that a woman--"
"Don't let us think or talk of her now," interrupted her brother. "To
hurry down to supper is our present business."
When the two went downstairs, they found the colored woman standing by an
open door in the rear of the hall.
"Supper's ready, sir," said she, and they entered the dining-room.
It was a large and rather sparely furnished room, but Miriam and Ralph
took no note of anything except the table, which stood in the middle of
the floor, lighted by a hanging lamp. It was a large table and arranged
for eight people with chairs at every place. The woman gave a little
laugh, as she said:--
"I reckon you all may think this is a pretty big table for two people,
an' one not growed up, but you see I didn't know nothin' about the size
of the family, an' Mike he didn't know nothin' either. I'm Phoebe, Mike's
wife, an' I ain't got nothin' in the world to do with this house, for
mostly I go out to service in the town, but I'm here now; and of course
we didn't want you all to come an' find nothin' to eat, an' no beds made,
an' as you didn't write no orders, sir, we had just to do the best we
could accordin' to our own lights. I reckoned there would be the gem'en
and his wife, an' perhaps two growed-up sons, though Mike, he was
doubtful about the growed-up sons, especially as to thar bein' two of
them. Then I reckoned thar'd be a darter, just about your age, Miss, an'
then there'd be two younger chillen, one a boy an' one a girl, an' a
gov'ness for these two. Of course I didn't know whether the gov'ness was
in the habit of eatin' at your table or not, but I reckoned that this
time, comin' so late, you'd all eat at the same table, an' I put a plate
an' a cheer for her. An' Mike went ter town, an' got groc'ries an' things
enough for to-night and tomorrow, an' as everything was ready I just left
everything as it was. I reckoned you wouldn't want ter wait until I'd sot
the whole table over again."
"By no means," cried Ralph, and down they sat, Ralph at one end of the
long table, and Miriam at the other. It was a good supper; beefsteak, an
omelet, hot rolls, fried potatoes, coffee, tea, preserved fruit, and all
on the scale suited to a family of eight.
When Phoebe had retired to the kitchen, presumably for additional
supplies, Miriam stretched her arms over the table.
"Think of it, Ralph," she said, "this is our supper. The first meal we
ever truly owned."
They had not been long at the table when they were startled by the loud
ringing of the door-bell.
"'Pon my word," ejaculated Phoebe, "it's a long time since that bell's
been rung," and setting down a plate of hotter biscuit, with which she
had been offering temptations, she left the room. Presently she returned,
ushering in Dr. Tolbridge.
Briefly introducing himself, the doctor welcomed the brother and sister
to the neighborhood of Thorbury, and apologized for the extreme
promptness of his call.
"I heard you had arrived," he said, "from a hackman I met on the road,
and having made a visit near by I thought I would look in on you. It
might be days before I should again have a chance. But don't let me
disturb your supper; I beg that you will sit down again."
"And I beg you, sir," said Ralph, "to sit down with us."
"Well," said the doctor, smiling, "I am hungry, and my own supper-time is
passed. You seem to have plenty of room for a guest."
"Oh, yes, indeed, sir," said Miriam, who had already taken a fancy to the
doctor's genial face. "Phoebe thought we were a large family, and you can
take the seat of one of the grown-up sons, or the daughter's chair, or
the place that was intended for either the little boy or little girl, or
perhaps you would like the governess' seat."
At this Phoebe turned her face to the wall and giggled.
"A fine imagination," said the doctor, "and what is better, a bountiful
meal. Please consider me, for the present, the smallest boy, who might
naturally be supposed to have the biggest appetite."
"It would have been funnier," said Miriam, gravely, "if you had been the
governess."
The supper was a lively one; the three appetites were excellent; the
doctor was in his jolliest mood, and Ralph and Miriam were delighted with
him. On his part, he could not help looking upon it in the light of a
joke--an agreeable one, however--that these two young people, one of them
a mere child, should constitute the new Cobhurst family. He had known
that the property had gone to an unmarried man who was in business, and
had not thought of his coming here to live.
"And now," said the doctor, as they rose from the table, "I must go. My
wife will call on you very soon, and in the meantime, what is there that
I can do for you?"
"I think," answered Miriam, looking about her to see that Phoebe was not
in the room, "that it would be very nice if you could get us a new man.
We like the woman well enough, but the man is awful."
The doctor looked at her, astonished.
"Do you mean Mike?" he asked, "the faithful Mike, who has been in charge
here ever since Mr. Butterwood took to travelling about for the good of
his rheumatisms? Why, my dear young lady, the whole country looks upon
Mike as a pattern man-of-all-work. He may be getting a little cranky and
independent in his notions, for he has been pretty much his own master
for years, but I am sure you could find no one to take his place who
would be more trustworthy or so generally useful."
Ralph was about to explain that it was only the appearance of the man to
which his sister objected, but she spoke for herself.
"Of course, we oughtn't always to judge people by their looks," she said,
"but in my thoughts about our home, I never connected it with such a very
shabby person. But then, if he is an old family servant, he may be the
very kind of a man the place needs."
"Oh, I advise you to stick to Mike, by all means," said the doctor, "and
to Phoebe, too, if she will stay with you. But I think she prefers the
town to this somewhat secluded place."
"A good omen," said Ralph, as he closed the door after the doctor. "As a
neighbor, I believe that man is at the head of his class, and I am very
glad that he happened to be the first one who came to see us."
"Well," said Miriam, "we haven't seen the others yet, and I am glad that
we don't know whether this doctor is homeopathic or allopathic, so that
we can get started in liking him before we know whether we approve of his
medicines or not."
"Upon my word," cried Ralph, "I never knew that you had opinions about
the different medical schools. Did they teach you that sort of thing at
Mrs. Stone's?"
"I suppose I can have opinions without having them taught to me, can't
I?" she answered. "I saw a lot of sickness among the girls, and I am
homeopathic."
"Stuff," exclaimed Ralph, "I don't believe you ever took any medicine in
your life."
"I have not taken much," answered Miriam, "but I have taken enough to
settle it in my mind that I am never going to take any more of the
same sort."
"And they were not little sugar pills?"
"No, indeed they were not," said Miriam, very decidedly.
"I've made a fire in the parlor," said Phoebe, coming in, "if you all
want to sit there afore you go to bed."
"I don't want to sit anywhere," cried Miriam, "and I am crazy to get a
peep out of doors. Come on, Ralph, just for a minute."
Ralph followed her out on the piazza.
"It's awfully dark," said Miriam, "but if we walk carefully, I think we
can get far enough away from the house to look up at it, and find out a
little what it looks like."
They groped their way across the driveway, and on to the grass beyond.
"We can see a good deal of it against the sky!" exclaimed Miriam. "What
tall pillars! It looks like a Greek temple in front. And from what I can
make out, it's pretty much all front."
"I suppose it is a regular old-fashioned house," said her brother,
"with a Grecian portico front, and perhaps another at the back. But you
must come in now, for you have on neither hat nor wrap." And he took
her by the hand.
"It isn't cold," said Miriam, "and oh, Ralph, look up at the stars. Those
are our stars, every one of them."
Ralph laughed, as he led her into the house.
"Yes, indeed," she insisted, "we own all the way down, and all the way
up."
"Now then," said Miriam, when they had closed the door behind them, "how
shall we explore the house? Shall we each take a lamp, or will candles
be better?"
"Little girl!" exclaimed her brother, "I had no idea that you were such a
bunch of watch springs. It is nearly nine o'clock, and after the day's
work that you have done, it is time you were in bed. House exploring can
be done to-morrow."
"Yes, indeed, Miss," said Phoebe, who stood by, anxious to shut up the
house and retire to her own domicile, "and I will go up into your room
with you and show you about things."
Half an hour after this, Miriam came out of her bedroom, holding a bit of
lighted candle in her hand. She was dressed, with the exception of her
shoes. Softly she advanced to the foot of the stairs which led to the
floor above.
"They are partly my stairs," she said to herself, as she paused for a
moment at the bottom of the step. "Ralph told me that he considered the
place as much mine as his, and I have a right to go up. I cannot go to
sleep without seeing what is up here. I never imagined such a third floor
as this one."
In less than a minute, Miriam was slowly creeping along the next floor of
the house, which was indeed an odd one. For it was nothing more than a
gallery, broader at the ends than the sides, with a railed open space,
through which one could look down to the floor below. Some of the doors
were open and she peeped into the rooms, but saw nothing which induced
her to enter them. Having made the circuit of the gallery, she reached a
narrow staircase which wound still higher upward.
"I must go up," she said; "I cannot help it."
Arrived at the top of these stairs, Miriam held up her candle and looked
about her. She was in a great, wide, magnificent, glorious garret! Her
soul swelled. To own such a garret was almost too much joy! It was the
realization of a thousand dreams.
Slowly advancing, she beheld fascinations on every side. Here were old
trunks, doubtless filled with family antiquities; there was a door
fastened with a chain and a padlock--there must be a key to that, or the
lock could be broken; in the dim light at the other end of the garret,
she could see what appeared to be a piled-up collection of boxes, chests,
cases, little and big, and all sorts of old-fashioned articles of use and
ornament, doubtless every one of them a treasure. A long musket, its
stock upon the floor, reclined against a little trunk covered with
horse-hair, from under the lid of which protruded the ends of some dusty
folded papers.
"Oh, how I wish Ralph were here, and that we had a lamp. I could spend
the night here, looking at everything; but I can't do it now with this
little candle end."
At her feet was a wooden box, the lid of which was evidently unfastened,
for it lay at an angle across the top.
"I will look into this one box," she said, "and then I will go down."
She knelt down, and with the candle in her right hand, pushed aside the
lid with her left. From the box there grinned at her a human skull,
surrounded by its bones. She started back.
"Uncle Butterwood," she gasped and tried to rise, but her strength and
senses left her, and she fell over unconscious, upon the floor. The
candle dropped from her hand, and, fortunately, went out.