MAKING UP
There was no time to make friends with Charlotte the next day, for Mary
Lee and Jack returned home and there was so much for the sisters to
talk about that they did not care to go afield for entertainment.
Jean was the first to spy her twin. "There they come," she sang out.
"Who?" said Nan.
"My trin, my dear trin, and Mary Lee," and Jean started on a run down
the walk to meet them as soon as they should come in the gate.
Nan was not far behind her. "Hallo!" she called. "I am glad you are
back again. We've missed you terribly." She hugged Jack up to her and
bestowed a hearty kiss upon Mary Lee. "Did you have a good time?" she
asked.
"Fine," replied Mary Lee. "Where's mother?"
"She and the señorita have gone to ride with Carter."
"Where's Aunt Helen?"
"Over at Mrs. Bobs'. Mr. Pinckney has gone to Mexico and Mrs. Bobs
asked Aunt Helen to come over and keep her company this afternoon
because she was so lonely."
"There's a girl visiting there," put in Jean. "Nan and she have been
awfully thick, but she hasn't been over to-day."
Nan made a little contemptuous mouth. "I'm mad with her," she told Mary
Lee. "She's such a prudy, prudy prude and always is saying: 'Do you
think we ought to do this and do you think we ought to do that;' I get
so tired of so much oughting."
"I thought you liked her so much, Nan," said Jean in surprise.
"Oh, I did; I do, I suppose, but----Oh, well, don't let's talk about
her. Tell us what you did at the Sanders', Mary Lee."
"Oh, we did everything; rode and walked and ate raisins and honey and
all sorts of good things, and oh, Nan, Jo Poker was there."
"Jo Poker? Well, did you ever! Do tell me about him."
"We saw him every day, and he used to take me to the woods and tell me
about all the queer things we saw. I like him so much. We used to have
long talks and I told him all about the señorita, but he didn't seem to
know anything or if he did he wouldn't tell me. I certainly had a fine
time, Nan, but I am glad to get home again. I do hope mother and Miss
Dolores won't stay out long; I am just aching to see them."
Just then Miss Helen came in. "Why," she said, "my girlies are back
again. We certainly did miss you, and it is good to have you again.
Nan, before I forget it, Mrs. Roberts wants you to come over and take
supper. Charlotte is going to-morrow or next day."
"Oh, dear, and the girls have just come," returned Nan discontentedly.
"I never expected to see the time when you wouldn't jump at an
invitation from Mrs. Roberts," said Miss Helen.
"But then there was never a time before when Mary Lee and Jack had been
away for a whole week," said Nan by way of excuse.
"That is true," said Miss Helen smiling. "Well, you must manage it for
yourself."
"I won't go till nearly supper time," Nan concluded, "and I will
come back as soon after as it is decent. To tell you the truth," she
whispered to Mary Lee as they went out of the room with their arms
around each other, "Charlotte and I had a little spat. Mrs. Bobs
doesn't know anything about it unless Charlotte has told her, and it
will make it sort of awkward, you see."
"What was it about?" asked Mary Lee. Nan told her.
"Well," decided the impartial Mary Lee, "I think it was as much your
fault as hers. In the first place you had no right to ask her to run
your errands."
"She didn't run any."
"Well, you asked her to, and in the second place you invited her to go
to the Fairy Dell with you, and you ought to have seen to it that she
got home all right. She is a stranger here and she was your company."
"She is not so very much more of a stranger than we are, and Jean had
to be looked after."
"Suppose she did; it wouldn't have hurt you to have walked home with
her and let Li Hung go home with Jean. He would have taken the best of
care of her, you know."
Nan sighed. "Oh, I suppose I was thinking of my side of the question
and not hers at all, but it made me mad when she was so deathly afraid
of doing anything unusual or of being seen with any one who did."
"You see," said Mary Lee bringing forward a most forceful argument,
"you wouldn't like her to think we Virginians could be rude. We would
hate her to go back to Boston and say we hadn't been properly polite."
That decided Nan. "I suppose I'd better go and make up. I reckon some
of it was my fault. She is really a very nice girl, but her ways aren't
ours and she doesn't take to being free and easy. She thinks so much
of what people will say and she is always talking about whether we are
doing our 'dooty.' I have no doubt she thinks it was my 'dooty' to
stick with her when I brought her out with me, and I reckon it really
was. I know perfectly well she wouldn't have done me that mean way, and
I reckon that is half the reason why I am mad. I wish you would go over
with me, Mary Lee; it would take off the edge."
"Oh, but I am not asked."
"You would be if Mrs. Bobs knew you had come back. I'll 'phone over and
tell her," and before Mary Lee could say a word Nan had flown to the
telephone. She came back in a few minutes. "Mrs. Bobs is delighted,"
she reported. "She wants you to meet Charlotte. I know Charlotte will
like you for you are just the proper kind to suit her. I am such a
fly-away, I am afraid, and she doesn't understand me, when I talk up in
the clouds, any more than you do." She hurried herself into a proper
frock and rebraided her hair with hasty fingers. "Button my middle
button, please, Mary Lee," she said. "Oh, but it is good to have you
back. I don't like half of four Corners; it makes us seem on the bias.
There, I am ready. Come along."
They started forth, taking the back way, which was nearer, passing the
tall geranium which grew to the kitchen roof, the orange trees and the
grape-vine trellis, and were soon out on the street. "I shall miss it
all," remarked Nan. "We shall be going pretty soon, Mary Lee. Aren't
you sorry?"
"For some reasons I am, but for others I am not. I like to see new
things and new places."
"So do I, but I get attached to the old ones. I think there is
something very catty about me, for I cling to my old haunts."
"You are more kittenish, I should say," returned Mary Lee slyly.
Nan laughed, and did not resent the charge.
Charlotte met them rather stiffly but thawed out under Nan's
graciousness, and her frank avowal that she had been in the wrong the
day before. It is quite true that Charlotte would not have acted as Nan
did, but it is equally true that she would never have been willing to
apologize so readily for any misdeed of her own.
"I want you and Mary Lee to know each other," Nan told her. "You are
just of a piece, you two. I am going to speak to Mrs. Bobs and leave
you to get acquainted." Charlotte looked after her as she danced off.
She would have given anything to possess such an easy manner, to
have been so unconsciously gracious and affable as Nan. She began her
conversation in a little studied way which contrasted strangely with
Nan's ready flow of speech, and as Mary Lee was herself dignified,
they had not progressed very far when they were summoned to supper. It
was then that Nan's high spirits again saved the situation, for having
once passed the Rubicon, she gave herself no further concern about her
former attitude toward Charlotte, but was so funny when she described
the procession home from the Fairy Dell that Charlotte laughed in
spite of herself, and all at once her own behavior on that occasion
seemed silly and unnecessarily stiff. Mary Lee she might like and would
probably always easily get along with, but to Nan she would continue to
give a warmer affection from the very fact that she was the opposite of
herself.
Mr. Roberts insisted upon seeing the girls home, although Carter
appeared on the scene, saying he had been sent as an escort. Mr.
Roberts was rather a quiet, grave man, but Nan never failed to unloosen
his tongue and his face always brightened when she came around.
"I don't like to say good-bye," said Nan to Charlotte, "and I don't
mean to to-night, for I'll come around first thing in the morning
so as to see you off. I will send you some picture postal cards,
Charlotte, and you must do the same to me. I have enjoyed our music so
much, and some day I hope I will play as well as you do. We have had
a real good time together, even if we have had some squabbles. I was
generally wrong and you were right," which admission Charlotte felt was
truly noble.
"If you ever come to Boston," she said with more warmth than usual,
"you must be sure to let me know."
"Indeed I will. Very likely I shall come some day. I mean to get in
a lot of traveling during my life, and you may expect to see me most
anywhere you go. Wouldn't it be fine if we were to meet in Germany some
day? Perhaps both of us will go there to study music."
"That would be delightful," returned Charlotte.
"Well, who knows?" continued Nan. "Let's pretend we shall. Auf
wiedersehn, Miss Loring, I shall expect to see you one of these days at
Herr Pumpernickel's studio in Berlin," and, kissing her hand, Nan ran
down the step to join Mr. Roberts, who was waiting for her. Carter and
Mary Lee had gone on ahead.
Charlotte turned to Mrs. Roberts and made the confession: "I would
give anything to be as delightfully easy as Nan is. She is never
embarrassed and always knows just what to say. She is the brightest
girl I ever saw. I don't mean that she is so very, very intellectual,
for there are a great many things she has not read, things that most of
my girl friends know all about, but she is so originally bright. She
never says things for effect or as if she were conscious of herself."
"That is just Nan's charm," returned Mrs. Roberts. "She is naturally
very quick-witted, and she has a ready vocabulary; when she can't
think of a word to suit the occasion she coins one that is somehow
better than those made to order. Jack is something like her; she is
an original, too, but in quite a different way. I wish you were going
to stay long enough to see Jack; she is such a comical youngster. My
father makes her his special pet. They are a delightful family, take
them one and all, from Mrs. Corner down to the twins. I am sorry they
are going to leave us so soon. I wish we could persuade them to settle
in California."
Carter lingered after Mr. Roberts left his charges safe in their
mother's hands. Mary Lee sought the señorita and begged for a Spanish
song, so while she softly sang to the accompaniment of her guitar, Mary
Lee sat close beside her, in a dusky corner of the veranda, holding
closely a fold of her gown. The electric lights from the street made
a delicate design of the leafy vines; the mingled scent of roses,
orange-blossoms and heliotrope was wafted to them. Jack, tired out,
fell asleep with her head on Nan's shoulder. Jean sat in her mother's
lap drowsily listening to the soft twanging of the guitar. It suited
well the balmy, semi-tropical night. As Miss Dolores finished her song
Carter turned to Miss Helen.
"I'm not going to stay, so there. Whether or not you want me to go
along, I'm going. I reckon if Mrs. Corner can stand a change I can."
"Who said nobody wanted you?" asked Miss Helen.
"You've never said you did," returned Carter in an aggrieved tone.
"We were afraid you might think we wanted to make use of you and your
automobile," said Miss Helen, laughing. "You have been so generous and
have been a perfect slave to this family; you ought to have a rest
after we have gone."
"I don't want a rest."
"We'd love to have you go," said Miss Helen. "I'll confess to you that,
independent as I seem, capable as I may be to conduct the entire party
from Dan to Beersheba, in my inmost heart I secretly delight in your
manly presence when trunks are to be checked, tickets are to be bought
and a stentorian voice is needed to protest at imposition or delay. So
you see how I am baring my secrets to you and you may imagine how I
shall be delighted to have you at hand whenever I want you. Do go with
us, dear Carter."
"Now that's something like," he replied. "Now I feel better. I'll go,
oh, yes, I surely will. How would it do to arrange this way? It's
nothing of a run from here to Santa Barbara. I can get my friend
Oliver's car, which is a little larger than mine, and take five of you;
then I can come back here, get my car and take the other two. Then
we can see the country as we like without the discomfort of railway
travel."
"But it will give you a double trip."
"I don't mind that in the least. I go somewhere nearly every day, and
why not there? What do you think of my plan, Mrs. Corner?"
"It is a lovely one and quite worthy of you," was the reply. "You are
always thinking of something to save us trouble or to give us pleasure,
Carter. Isn't it a lovely plan, children?"
"What's the lovely plan?" said Jean raising her sleepy head.
"Oh, Jean, you were asleep," said Jack. "I heard."
"I don't believe it," retorted Jean. "I wasn't asleep at all; I was
only thinking. What did they say? Tell me and I'll believe you heard."
"Carter said he was going to take us somewhere every day," returned
Jack triumphantly.
A shout of laughter went up at this. "It is high time my babies were in
bed," said Mrs. Corner. "Run along now, and I will come directly."
"But just tell us first what is the plan," said Jack. "Wasn't it what I
said?"
"Carter is going to take us all to Santa Barbara in his automobile,"
whispered Nan. "He'll take us in two goes. How shall we divide up,
mother?"
The twins tarried to hear this settled. "I'd better go on ahead and
engage rooms," said Miss Helen. "I think, Mary, we'd better leave you
and Jack till the last, then you can see to the closing of the house
here. How will that suit?"
"All right," agreed Carter.
"I want to go with the first batch," complained Jack.
"But you will be going in my car and it's much the nicer," Carter told
her.
"Don't you want to stay and take care of mumsey?" asked Mrs. Corner.
That settled it. If she were to be left behind as a guardian for
her mother there was nothing more to be said, and, in the proud
consciousness of being selected from the four for this superior office,
Jack went to bed perfectly satisfied.
True to her word Nan ran around early the next morning to say good-bye
to Charlotte and the two parted most affectionately. Nan returned home
to find that the preparations for their own departure had already
begun, and she busied herself in packing up the treasure she had
collected during her stay in Los Angeles.
Li Hung's childlike smile had fled. He made every excuse from this time
out to follow Jack around and to make her frequent offerings of Chinese
nuts, queer, bright yellow cakes, strange confections and little boxes
of paper flowers which blossomed out when put in water. Clarence hung
about the front gate half the time. In a common sorrow he and Li Hung
were no longer enemies. "I believe I'll run away," announced Clarence
to Jack. "I think I'll go first to San Francisco and then to Virginia."
"You no want velly nice Chinaman go long Santa Babala?" Li Hung asked
Mrs. Corner.
It was with some difficulty that she explained to him that they would
not need the services of any "velly nice Chinaman," since they would
not be keeping house, but she added, as a balm to his feelings: "If we
were to keep house, Li Hung, we should certainly want you, and if we
ever come back here we shall try to find you."
Li Hung nodded in his mandarin-like way, but he seemed disappointed
and did many strange things which he evidently thought would delay
their going. Various articles of clothing would be found hidden in
out-of-the-way places, books would mysteriously disappear one day to be
replaced the next when others would be gone, until finally these crafty
performances were discovered to mean no ill will but quite the contrary.
From the tall geranium over the kitchen Nan picked a leaf of
remembrance; from the scattered rose-leaves she made a little cushion;
orange-blossoms and heliotrope were pressed in her diary. "I'll keep
them always," she said, "for I want to take something real away with
me, something more than memories."
The twins parted weepingly from the _paisano_ which was bestowed upon
Clarence with solemn charges to treat him kindly. "If you don't," said
Jack, "I'll tell Li Hung. I'll write to him and then you see what will
happen." From this it may be registered that the _paisano's_ future
was assured, so far as Clarence was concerned. This youngster put on
a very don't care expression as he said good-bye, but his eyes were
suspiciously red when he reached home, and that same afternoon he had
a desperate fight with the next-door boy because he said girls were no
good. With such a cause as that for which he fought Clarence easily
came off victor.
The señorita had promised to stay with the family as long as they
should remain in California; what she would next do was to be decided
later. Mr. Pinckney was expected any day to return from his trip to
Mexico when Mary Lee and Nan expected great things. Mary Lee had
told Nan of her conference with Jo Poker, but they could come to no
conclusion about him nor about his possible relationship to their
señorita, and in the excitement of their preparations to leave this
subject was dropped. It was only the day before they were to leave
their pretty winter home that Mr. Pinckney did come back, and in the
fluster of packing and of making adieux there was little chance to do
more than ask him: "Did you find out anything about the señorita's
father?"
Mr. Pinckney shook his head. "Nothing positive," he returned. "I
did see Señor Garcia, but he was mum as an oyster and would give me
no satisfaction. An oath to the dead was sacred, he said, and he
had promised his wife never to divulge the secret. I discovered her
mother's grave but the headstone set forth in Spanish merely that she
was the daughter of Antonio and Dolores Mendez. There was a pious
inscription, the year of her birth and death, and that was all. No
mention of her having been the wife of any one."
Mary Lee sighed. "Well, that is all we can do, I suppose. It looks kind
of hopeless, doesn't it? I believe Jo Poker knows something that he
won't tell," she added.
"Then I'll try to hunt up Jo Poker when I get a chance," Mr. Pinckney
promised.
"He's like a wullerwusp, as Unc' Landy calls them," said Mary Lee, "but
maybe you will run across him some time. You won't forget, Mr. St.
Nick."
"Not a bit of it."
"And you'll not forget that you're to be in 'Frisco while we are
there."
"I'm not likely to. I feel as if the bottom had dropped out of Los
Angeles now you youngsters are going."
There were actual tears in Mrs. Roberts's eyes as she bade them
good-bye and Mr. Roberts said over and over: "We must get you back
here somehow." Mr. Pinckney kept repeating: "Well, I'll see you in
'Frisco, and Virginia isn't a thousand miles from New York. When we all
get back we'll see each other often." And so they parted.
"We've had such a good time here," said Nan to her aunt as they started
on their journey. "I've never had such a good time in all my life. I
wonder if it will have to stop when I leave California."
"I hope not," returned Miss Helen. "You certainly are too young to have
your good times stop yet awhile. I prophesy many more; when you go to
Europe, for instance."
"Oh, yes, of course; that is at the very tip-top of good times. Shall I
really love Italy as much as I do California?"
"I think so because of the precious pictures, the dear old buildings,
the savor of romance which you will find there. Every stone seems to
have a history, and the very bells peal out some bygone story. One
misses that here. There is so much that is startlingly new; it is the
oldness, the worn stones, the delightful subdued color which pleases
the eye over there. If it were not for the old missions I should find
even California garish and crude, I am afraid."
This sounded like rank heresy to Nan, but she was satisfied that Aunt
Helen believed what she said.
"It suits many persons better than Italy," Miss Helen went on, "but
it doesn't happen to suit me so well. 'Better twenty years of Europe
than a cycle of Cathay.' I agree with Tennyson. I am afraid, Nan dear,
that I have acquired the European habit and shall never be rid of it.
I suppose it is because I have lived there so long, and because my old
home is mine no more."
This determined the fact that there would never be any prospect of a
permanent settlement in California, for the Corners, and therefore the
girl was glad that she had borne away from the cottage those mementoes
which should bring to her lips a wistful smile in after days.
She and Mary Lee cast a lingering look at the rose-hung house as the
automobile bore them away. "Good-bye, good-bye, dear little place,"
said Nan tragically. "Farewell, roses and orange trees! Good-bye,
grape-vines! Adieu, my lonely fig tree! No more under our own vine and
fig tree, Aunt Helen."
"Perhaps, in Italy," was the response, and Nan fell to dreaming of
gondolas and Italian villas while the moments bore them toward Santa
Barbara.