CHAPTER XXIX.

FAITHFUL FRIENDS.

A week had passed and it was nearing the end of June when Miss Dahlia and

Nan arrived at the little station of San Seritos. They found Mr. Sperry,

the gardener, waiting to take them home in the Barrington car, which had

the family coat of arms emblazoned on the door.

Nan had written a long letter to this faithful servant and his kindly

wife, telling of Miss Ursula's death and also informing them that Miss

Dahlia had but little money left, and, would be obliged to dispense with

the services of so expert a gardener as Mr. Sperry. Nan had then added

that since Miss Dahlia was very frail, she thought best not to tell her

of the changed financial conditions, but if Mr. Sperry would accept a

position elsewhere, Miss Dahlia would suppose that to be the reason he

was leaving her service.

When Mr. Sperry read this letter to his wife, he removed his spectacles

and wiped them as he said, "Nell, Miss Dahlia is one of God's good women

if there ever was one. Mind you the time little Bobsy had diphtheria and

you couldn't get a nurse? You'd have died yourself with the care of it

all if it hadn't been for that blessed woman coming right down here and

staying quarantined in this lodge house where there weren't any comforts

such as she had been used to, and now, that she's in trouble, it isn't

likely we're going to desert her. No, sir, not us! The Baxters have been

at me this month past to work on their place half time, and I'll do it.

Then we can raise our own vegetables and plenty for Miss Dahlia besides,

in the kitchen garden here and she'll never know but what Miss Nan is

paying us a salary regular, just as we always had."

"You are right, Samuel," Mrs. Sperry said wiping her eyes with the corner

of her blue apron. "We're not the sort to be forgetting past kindness.

I'll go up to the big house this minute with Bertha and we'll air it out

and have Miss Dahlia's room cheerful and waiting for her."

And so when Mr. Sperry saw Nan assisting Miss Barrington to the platform,

he hurried forward, and, snatching off his cap, he took the hand the

little lady held out to him. It was hard for him to steady his voice as

he said, "Miss Dahlia, it's good to see your kind face again. It's been

lonesome having the big house closed for so long and it's glad I am to

have it opened."

Tears rolled down the wrinkled cheeks of the little old lady. This

home-coming was hard, for, during the last two years Miss Ursula had been

much changed, more of a loving sister and a comrade.

When they reached the house, Mrs. Sperry was on the veranda and Bertha,

now a tall girl of eleven, was standing shyly at her mother's side.

The doors were wide open, and Nan, glancing in, saw that there were bowls

of ferns and flowers in the hall and library. As she greeted Mrs. Sperry,

she said softly, "It was very kind of you to do all this."

Then the girl assisted Miss Dahlia up the wide front stairs. The

gardener's wife called after them "when you've laid off your wraps come

down to the dining room. It's nearly noon and I thought you might be

hungry after traveling so far."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sperry, we will," Nan replied, and tears sprang to her

eyes as she thought how loyal these kind people were and with no hope of

remuneration.

Later, while they were eating the appetizing luncheon which the

gardener's wife was serving, Miss Dahlia asked, "Mrs. Sperry, will you

see about hiring maids and a cook for us as soon as possible?"

The woman glanced at Nan questioningly and that girl hurried to say:

"Oh, Aunt Dahlia dear, please don't let's have any just yet. I do want to

learn to keep house and the best way to learn, you know, is really to do

it. Don't you think so, Mrs. Sperry?"

"Indeed I do, Miss Nan," that little woman replied with enthusiasm, "and

I'll be right handy by, whenever you need help extra, for cleaning days

and the like."

Miss Dahlia smiled. "Well dearie," she said, "you may try for a week or

so, but at the end of that time, I'm pretty sure that you will be glad to

hire a cook and at least one maid."

The next morning, when Miss Dahlia awakened, it was to see a smiling

lassie in a pretty ruffled white apron approaching her bedside with a

tray on which was a cup of steaming coffee and a covered plate of

delicately browned toast.

"Top o' the morning to you, Aunt Dahlia," the girl laughingly called as

she brought a wash cloth and towel and then a dainty lavender dressing

jacket and cap. A few minutes later when the pleased little old lady was

sitting up among comfortably placed pillows, Nan with arms akimbo,

inquired, "Is there anything more ye'll be afther wantin' this mornin',

Miss Barrington?"

"Oh, Nan darling," the little woman replied brightly, "I truly did think

that I wouldn't be able to get on without Norah, but I believe that after

all my new maid is going to prove a much handier young person. Have you

breakfasted, my dear?"

"That I have, Aunt Dahlia, and my head is as full of delightful plans as

a Christmas pudding is of plums, but first I wish to ask if I may have

your permission to play the game just as I wish."

"Indeed you have it without the asking. Get all the amusement that you

can get of the experiment, but, Nan dearie, don't you think that you

would better reconsider and have at least one house maid?"

The girl shook her head and her dark eyes danced merrily as she again

returned to Norah's brogue. "And is it discharging me, ye are, on the

very fust day of me service wid ye? Arrah, and oi'll not be goin' till

ye've given me a fair two weeks' triol."

Miss Dahlia smiled happily. What a comfort this gypsy girl was to her.

Then suddenly the little woman realized that she had not thought of Nan

as a gypsy for a long time. It did not seem possible that this loving and

lovable girl could be the same little wild waif who had climbed out of an

upper window nearly four years ago because she did not want to be

civilized.

When the tray was ready to be carried away, the audacious maid stooped

and kissed the smiling face of the little old lady as she inquired, "Will

ye dress now, or will ye be staying' in bed for the mornin', Miss

Dahlia?"

"I'd like to remain in bed, dearie, if you are sure that you don't need

me to help you around the house. It was a long journey across the

continent and now that we are _really_ home it seems so nice to just rest

and look out of the window at the garden and the sea."

"Good! I'm glad!" Nan exclaimed as she drew the downy quilt over the

frail shoulders. "Perhaps you'll return to dreamland awhile. Now, don't

forget that you have granted me permission to carry out my plans in my

own sweet way."

When Nan was gone, the little old lady, resting luxuriously, wondered

what her dear child might be planning, and then, truly weary, she again

fell into a refreshing slumber.

Meanwhile Nan had donned her riding habit and, having visited the barn,

she found her Binnie in fine trim. The small horse whinnied joyfully when

he beheld his mistress, and Nan, putting her arms about him, caressed him

lovingly. Two years before she had written Mrs. Sperry, telling her to

permit the children to ride Binnie, and so the small horse had had many a

merry canter and had not been lonely.

Saddling and mounting her mottled pony, Nan rode down the circling drive

to the lodge house. She was about to carry out a plan, which was merely

another way to economize and not let Miss Dahlia recognize it as such.

Nan of the Gypsies · 第 29 / 37 章