A QUEER CHAPERON
When Mrs. Doremus was introduced, Patty's thoughts ran somewhat like
this:
"Nice old lady; apple-cheeked, white-haired and quiet-mannered. A little
shy, but well-bred and kindly. Old-fashioned dress,--or, rather it looks
so, because it's so long. Why, it almost touches the floor. But, she's
all right, and her big, tortoise-rimmed glasses give her quite an air of
distinction."
Helen, on the other hand, paid little attention to the chaperon, save to
greet her pleasantly and thank her for her presence.
The five went to the Club dining-room for luncheon. There were a few
others at various tables, but no one with whom the girls were
acquainted.
"I'm fairly brimming with happiness," Helen announced; "I've always
longed to be at a big country club in winter, and I've never achieved it
before."
"It's winter, all right," said Herron, looking out at the steady
snowfall. "But the palms and flowers make this seem like an oasis of
summer, screened in."
"Awful pretty room," and Helen looked round contentedly, as she finished
her grape fruit. "And of a just-right temperature. I'd like to stay here
a week."
"You _may_ get your wish," and Mrs. Doremus smiled at her, "if this snow
keeps on, I don't see how you _can_ go back to the city today."
"Oh, my goodness!" cried Patty, "don't say such a thing! Remember, Phil,
when we were snowbound at that queer old house in the country?"
"Do I remember! Why, we had the time of our sweet young life up there! I
never ate such chicken pie!"
"Nor I. And those two quaint old ladies were a whole show themselves."
"Oh, this storm isn't going to be so very bad," Herron said; "I think
it's lessening now. We'll go down this afternoon, all right, all right.
I think, Miss Fairfield, you're anxious to get a letter from somebody!"
Patty blushed prettily. "Well, perhaps I am. I came away before
mailtime, you know."
"But you had one yesterday," Helen told, "a big, fat one! That ought to
last you for a while!"
"But that was yesterday! I want today's bulletin."
"Aha! A letter every day?"
"Yes, Mr. Herron, that's the way engaged people keep alive, when
separated by this cruel war!"
"Never mind letters now," begged Van Reypen, "let's forget everybody who
isn't here."
"And are you engaged to a soldier, my child?" Mrs. Doremus asked of
Patty. The old lady had a low, gentle voice, and though she said little,
she had a delightful manner and a smile that betokened a keen sense of
humour.
"Yes, to Captain Farnsworth; but he isn't exactly a soldier. I mean, he
doesn't expect to fight. He is an expert mining engineer, and his
country seems to find a lot of work for him, without sending him to the
front."
"Bill Farnsworth, the Westerner!"
"Yes; do you know him?"
"No; not at all. But I saw something about him in the paper,----"
"You did! Oh, what was it? I'm interested, of course, in anything
pertaining to him or his work."
"I can't seem to remember; I can't exactly place it; but I recollect
seeing his name. And are you, too, engaged to an enlisted man, Miss
Barlow?"
"No," said Helen, "but I hope to be."
"Quite right! Next to serving one's country, is being the helpmeet of
one who does. Have you,--ah,--selected----"
"No, my selective draft hasn't yet been made," and Bumble's jolly little
face smiled broadly; "you see, there are so many fascinating men in the
service,--indeed, 'most any man is fascinating in uniform."
"I wear uniform," said Herron.
"I know, but lots of others do, too, and every time I meet a new one I
lose my heart to him."
"I fear me you're a sad coquette, Miss Barlow," and the chaperon beamed
on her.
"I am a coquette," Helen admitted, calmly, "but not at all a sad one!
Indeed, I'm as merry as a grig. Why, I get letters from lots of the boys
in camp. Miss Fairfield is content with only one correspondent, while I
have a dozen! I just adore to get their letters, and to send them
things, and to write to them. The war is terrible, but it does give one
_some_ new and pleasant experiences. And I don't feel it my duty to
lament all the time. My mission is cheering people up and cheering
soldiers on."
"I make no doubt you're a grand success at it, too. And some day you'll
decide to send all your letters to the same address, as Miss Fairfield
does. Where is Mr. Farnsworth now, may I ask?"
"In Washington," Patty replied.
"And is he coming to New York soon?"
"I don't know, I'm sure." Patty spoke a little coldly, for Bill had
cautioned her over and over again, never on any account to tell any one
of his plans or to repeat anything he might write, which concerned
military matters or might give war information of any sort.
"How you must long to know! I don't mean definitely, of course, but
can't you hope to see him soon?"
An insistent tone in Mrs. Doremus' voice caused Patty to look up
quickly, and she saw the keen eyes regarding her intently through the
big glasses.
But though the old lady's interest might have been a bit strong for such
short acquaintance, Patty was too polite to resent that, and she laughed
and said, "It's impossible to tell, with a soldier boy. One can only
hope,--one may not expect."
"That's a philosophical attitude, my dear, and does you credit. Is
Captain Farnsworth in the Engineers' Camp?"
"Yes," said Patty, this time with decided shortness; "how very nice this
sweetbread is! I've always been so fond of them. But one oughtn't to
serve them on a sweetless day, ought one?"
"Oh, Patty, what a silly joke!" chided Helen. "You mean a meatless day!"
"Both ought to be barred," smiled Patty; "also they ought not to be
served on a breadless day!"
"It looks as if they wouldn't be served at all any more," said Herron;
"let's gather these sweetbreads while we may!"
"And perhaps the war will soon be over, and then we can eat what we
like," Helen suggested. "It will be over soon, you know, because of the
eagles."
"What do you mean?"
"Yes, it's a true omen. You know down at Beverly, New Jersey, long
ago,--oh, during the Revolution,----"
"Is this a real honest-to-goodness, once-upon-a-time story?" asked Van
Reypen.
"Yes, it is."
"Then I move we move to the sun-parlour, and have our coffee there.
We'll take our coffee,--sugarless, if Patty says so,--and then we can
hear the story, and then we must see about going home."
"Fine," Patty agreed. "Will you join us in this desperate scheme, Mrs.
Doremus?"
"Don't think you must, if you're busy," interposed Herron. "I'm sure the
ladies will excuse you if you have duties to attend to."
"I haven't," returned the chaperon, calmly. "I'll be glad to have the
coffee and the story, if I am permitted."
"Surely," said Helen, jumping up, "come along, Mrs. Doremus; you and I
will pick out the sunniest spot. Philip, bring Patty; and Mr. Herron,
will you order the coffee served there?"
Helen slipped her arm through that of the grey-haired lady, and they
walked away together.
Philip detained Patty as she was about to follow.
"Queer old party," he said, very low.
"Who? Mrs. Doremus? I rather like her."
"Well, I don't! Be careful what you say before her, and we must get away
as soon as we can."
"Why, Phil, what do you mean?"
"Nothing particular. Only, don't let Helen persuade you to stay all the
afternoon. It's nearly three now, and we must get away by four, at
latest."
"All right, Phil, but I never knew you to look so scared. Why?"
"Don't fuss, Patty; go ahead and join the crowd; but remember not to
answer personal questions."
Patty wondered what had come over Philip's mind, but she thought no more
about it, rather glad than otherwise, that he was determined to go home
so early.
They crossed the big foyer, and across a chair there, was a fur stole of
Patty's which she had left there in case of need while in the house. She
picked it up, exclaiming: "Why, here's my fur! I might have forgotten
it!"
"Lend it to me, won't you, if you're not wearing it?" asked Mrs.
Doremus. "I feel a bit chilly,--but, perhaps you do too?"
"Oh, no; I'm warm as toast. Use it, by all means. Let me put it round
you."
Patty draped the long stole round the shivering shoulders, and Mrs.
Doremus said, apologetically, "I'm not really cold, but I take
precaution for fear of rheumatism."
"Certainly," Patty acquiesced, and then the coffee tray was brought and
Patty did the honours.
"Sugar?" she asked of the chaperon.
"One, please; and may I be excused for a few moments? I've just thought
of an order I meant to give, and the gaiety of our little party made me
forget it. I don't mind if my coffee gets a little cool,--I like it
better so."
Mrs. Doremus went off toward the housekeeping quarters, and the others
made merry over their coffee cups.
"I don't see why you want to start right off, Philip," Helen demurred.
"I think it's going to stop snowing just about now."
"Do you, my child?" said Van Reypen, serenely; "be that as it may, we
stand not on the order of our going, but go at
once,--instanter,--immejit,--all-in-a-hurry,--so soon as your coffee is
despatched."
"But why?" and Helen pouted.
"Yours not to put that direct question. Yours not to make remarks. Yours
but to get into your befurments and hie away to town."
"I'm not at all sure we can make it," said Herron, pouring himself
another cup of the rich brown beverage.
"Oh, yes, you can," and the cheery voice of Mrs. Doremus sounded in the
doorway. "This my cup? Fine! I like it a lot better not so blooming
hot!"
Patty looked up suddenly, for the lapse into slang made her think that
the pastry cook had been on her guard at lunch time, and had now fallen
back to what must be her usual diction.
The old lady was smiling, and as she took her cup and sat down near the
girls, Patty felt a sudden aversion.
But she reproached herself for such a feeling toward one who had not
only been kind and polite but had helped them out of a real predicament.
By way of salving her conscience, she assumed a kinder manner, and
gently readjusted the fur stole.
"What a dear girl you are!" said Mrs. Doremus, in a burst of admiration.
"I don't wonder Little Billee loves you."
Patty stared at her in astonishment.
"You do know Captain Farnsworth, then!" she exclaimed, "or how would you
know he is called that by his intimate friends?"
The chaperon looked confused.
"I think I have heard you call him that since you've been here."
"Indeed you haven't! I never speak of him that way to strangers!"
"Come, come, Patty, don't get wrathy!" said Philip, smiling at the
lifted chin and tossed head.
"No, I won't," and Patty realised her own foolishness. "Forgive me, Mrs.
Doremus, I suppose I'm a silly young thing. But you see, I've never been
engaged before and I'm a little fussy about it!"
"Oh, that's all right, young folks ought to be like that. My, when I was
engaged, I flew off my head if anybody so much as looked at my young
man!"
"It couldn't have been so very long ago," smiled Patty, who had suddenly
come to the conclusion that Mrs. Doremus was not so very old, and was,
doubtless, prematurely grey-haired.
"Oh yes, many and many a year. But memory is still green, and the sight
of young lovers makes my mind turn back, as to a well-remembered page."
Again, Patty caught the strange inflection, as if Mrs. Doremus' words
were not quite sincere.
"Come, girls," said Philip, "as you've finished your coffee, let's be
thinking about starting."
"I don't want to go!" protested Helen; "it's perfectly lovely here, and
we can just as well stay an hour longer as not. Can't we, Mr. Herron?"
"So far as I am concerned, yes. But, unless you start soon, you may find
the roads impassable, and be obliged to remain here over night."
"Oh, I've the idea!" Helen cried, "you men go back to town, and leave us
girls here to stay the night with Mrs. Doremus! I do think that would be
fine! You'd take care of us, wouldn't you?"
She turned her bright, coaxing face to the apple-cheeked old lady, with
mute appeal.
To her surprise, Mrs. Doremus was suddenly afflicted with a hard
coughing spell. She choked and nearly strangled, growing red in the
face, and gasping for breath.
Herron jumped up and quickly led her from the room, with some hasty
words about fresh air.
Van Reypen looked angry and a bit puzzled, but Patty was deeply
concerned for the old lady's comfort.
"Let me go, too," she exclaimed, rising, "she needs me,--not Mr.
Herron."
"Sit down, Patty," Philip ordered, somewhat gruffly. "Stay where you
are. There are plenty of women servants to look after her."
"But she's so nice, Phil! Too nice to have only servants' care."
"Sit down, I tell you. You can't go to her. Remember, Patty, you're not
a member of this Club."
"Oh, that's so," and Patty sat down.
"All right," said Herron, returning; "she just choked a little, that's
all. And she has chronic throat trouble, so it rather strangled her. She
sends you her adieux, and begs to be excused from further appearance."
"Why, of course," said Patty, "she mustn't think of returning. And we're
going now, anyhow. Stop your nonsense, Helen, and come, let's get our
coats."
"Don't wanna!"
"I know you don't, you old goose, but you must." Patty took her cousin's
arm and led her off to the cloak-room.
"Be goody-girl," Herron called after her, "and we'll stop at any place
you like for afternoon tea."
"Oh, will you?" and Helen brightened up suddenly. "At the Sunset
Tea-room?"
"Yes, wherever you say."
The sleigh came to the door,--horses prancing, bells jingling, and the
driver cracking his whip, in true old-time style.
"Oh, wait a minute," Patty cried, as they were about to get in, "where's
my stole? Mrs. Doremus still has it! I'm so glad I remembered."
"I'll get it," volunteered Herron. "You others wait here."
He was gone so long that Philip suggested Mrs. Doremus had decamped with
the fur.
"Was it valuable, Patty?"
"Yes; that is, it's a perfectly good piece of kolinski."
"Better make up your mind to order another. Something tells me you'll
never see that particular animal again."
"How silly, Phil, of course I will. They don't have kleptomaniacs in a
Club like this."
"People of acquisitive tendencies are to be found everywhere. However,
here comes Herron with the pelt, but he looks as if he'd had to fight
for it!"
Sure enough, Herron appeared, greatly ruffled. His face was red, his
eyes glowering, and his whole aspect that of a man who has been through
a war of words.
"All right," he said, with a very evident effort to seem at ease,
"here's your fur cape,--or whatever you call it."
"Stole," corrected Philip.
"No it wasn't!" cried Herron. "Mrs. Doremus had mislaid it, in her
excitement, and couldn't remember for the moment where it was. But she
found it at once."
He put the fur round Patty's neck, and assisted her into the sleigh in
silence.
"Something's up!" that astute young woman remarked to herself. "I must
find out about it,--that is, if it concerns me, and I pretty much think
it does."
But she was far too canny to ask questions of Herron then. She chatted
gaily and smiled brightly, telling herself the while, that there could
be nothing really wrong.
The snow had almost ceased falling, and before they had gone more than a
mile, the sun came straggling through the clouds, as it sometimes does
when anxious to finish off a snowstorm quickly.
And Helen was delighted, for she knew that meant they would stop at her
favourite tea-room, and she could have the chocolate and sweet cakes
which were her beloved though "forbidden fruit."