Billie was thankful when they had got the box of jewels safely back into
the motor car and were on their way at last to Mary's home.
Mary and her mother lived in a pretty old house facing the public
square, and it was fortunate that Mrs. Price's old home was so located.
In order to support herself and her little daughter, the young widow had
transformed the lower floor into a tea room and shop. A little blue
board hung from the portico, which bore the inscription in old English
script, "At Ye Signe of Ye Blue Tea Pot." A large bulletin on the front
door announced that tea and sandwiches of all varieties could be had
within; also that luncheons were prepared for pleasure parties and
journeys and that numerous dainty and pretty articles, made by hand,
were there for sale.
The inscription might have stated further that the plucky mistress of
the little shop was as dainty and pretty as any of the articles for sale
on the counter.
As the soda water fountain was the Saturday afternoon meeting place of
the boys and girls of West Haven, so the Sign of the Blue Tea Pot
attracted the older crowd. It had seemed a bold undertaking for the
widow to mortgage her home and put all the money in the chintz hangings
and wicker furniture of those two charming tea rooms. Her old friends,
Mr. Butler and Captain Brown, had strongly advised against it, but her
venture had been a success from the first, although a mortgage still
hung over the place like a black cloud and small debts would accumulate
every time she got a little ahead.
When the red motor with its load of young people drew up at the door of
Mary's home, the buzz of conversation from inside reached them out in
the street.
Mary's mother appeared for a moment in the doorway, and smiled at them.
"She's as beautiful as an angel," thought Billie, who never told how
often she had yearned for a real mother of her very own as other girls
had.
Could any one else have looked so charming in a perfectly plain homemade
gray chambray dress, with a white muslin fichu, and little white apron
to set it off?
"Won't you come in and have some tea and cake, children?" Mrs. Price
called to the young people, while she put an arm around Mary and shook
hands with Billie, who had followed her friend to the front door with
the troublesome box.
"No, thank you, Mrs. Price," replied Billie, as spokesman of the party.
"I only came to ask a favor," she added, in a lower voice. "Would you
let me keep this box in your safe for a while? I have no place, I
mean----" Billie hesitated and blushed. Of all things, she detested
subterfuge, and yet here she was making all sorts of lame excuses
instead of saying frankly that she was keeping the box for a friend.
"You mean the old safe upstairs?" asked Mrs. Price, somewhat astonished.
"Yes, mother," put in Mary. "I told Billie I knew you wouldn't mind
locking this box up for her for a while."
"Certainly, dear, you are welcome to hide anything in it you like. Mary
knows the combination better than I do. I always have to look it up in
one of Captain Price's old note books. I am sorry you won't have some
tea and cake, but I suppose you are all off for a spin this afternoon.
It has done Mary more good than I can tell you, your motor car. The
child is always studying so hard to hurry up and be a teacher and take
care of her old mother, so she says."
"Only a few years more, Mother, and you shall never have to work again,"
said Mary. "Some day I shall be the Principal of West Haven High School,
when Miss Gray gets too old to work----"
"What's this?" exclaimed Miss Gray herself, at the door. She had been
drinking tea inside with some friends. "Who's going to lay me on the
shelf before my time?"
"Mary intends to step into your shoes, Miss Gray," laughed Mrs. Price.
"Look out for her. She is a dangerous rival. She means to pay off all
our mortgages and things, and provide for her mother's old age."
Miss Gray pinched Mary's cheek.
"Yes," insisted Mary stoutly, "all I want is money, money, money."
The Principal patted the young girl's cheek kindly.
"Don't be too mad about it, child. It won't buy everything, you know."
It was only an idle speech of Mary's but you all know how much meaning
can sometimes be given to words spoken thoughtlessly and the day was to
come when Mary was to regret very deeply having used those words.
All this time Billie had been standing quietly waiting for the moment
when they could leave the older people and consign the box to the iron
safe upstairs.
But before they could get away the tea room began to empty itself.
Billie's Cousin Helen appeared in the doorway, with Mrs. Butler, looking
like Elinor grown middle-aged, the beautiful aquiline nose slightly more
pronounced, the blue eyes a little faded, but the same erect carriage
which made her look an inch or more taller than the other women.
Mme. Alta, the music teacher, was there with Miss Gray. She was a fierce
looking, dark-haired woman, her two upper teeth protruding over her
lower lip like the tusks of a walrus, giving her a cruel animal
expression. Mrs. Rogers, Belle's mother, a small faded, intensely
nervous little woman, joined the group, followed by Percival Algernon
St. Clair's doting parent, "the Widow St. Clair," as she was known, a
charming, plump, pretty woman, as good-natured as she was comfortably
self-indulgent.
"Why, Wilhelmina, my darling, what is that large package you are
carrying?" demanded Miss Campbell anxiously. "Has your papa sent you a
present?"
"Oh, no, just--just a package of things I was going to leave here. We
are going motoring for a while. You don't mind, do you Cousin Helen?"
"No, my child, as long as you don't go too fast. But do put down that
box. You will injure yourself carrying it so long. Why don't you put it
in the motor? Why do you leave it here?"
"Oh, it isn't mine," said Billie.
Mrs. Price looked up at this.
"But I thought----" she commenced, when Mary pressed her hand.
"I mean I am keeping it for some one," went on Billie lamely.
"My dear Miss Campbell," put in Miss Gray--and Billie thanked her for
the intervention--"it is a Blue Bird secret, you may depend upon it. You
do not know school girls as well as I do."
"It ees a ver-ry eenter-resting looking package," here remarked Mme.
Alta. "It appears to be a ver-ry handsome box, as I can plainly see by
one corner-r which protrudes. You perhaps use if for your club's
segrets, eh?"
Billie turned the box guiltily around. She had not noticed that the torn
end was in view.
Mme. Alta looked at her unnecessarily hard, Billie thought. She had
never liked the strange woman and had preferred not to take piano
lessons of her, after one glance at those hard, cruel eyes and the
fierce walrus teeth.
"I'm sure it contains much more beautiful and interesting things than
stupid secrets," exclaimed good-natured, pretty Mrs. St. Clair, who
disliked to see anybody around her uncomfortable and Billie looked very
uncomfortable. "Now, dear," she continued, giving Billie a little
squeeze, "do go and hide your box, if you like. It's not fair to quiz
young girls about their secrets, any more than it is to quiz older
people," and she pushed Billie gently into the hall. Mary quickly
followed and the two girls ran upstairs, glad to get away from the group
of inquisitive ladies, and infinitely relieved to consign the unlucky
box into the small safe in the hall closet.
"What a joy to be rid of the thing," exclaimed Billie, as they shoved
the box inside, turned the combination lock, and fled downstairs.
"I feel as if we need a good dose of fresh air, Mary, to revive us after
that inquisition," she added, as they hurried past the company of tea
drinkers, who still lingered chatting in the doorway, and joined the
others in the motor car.
"Percival, my son," called Mrs. St. Clair, "don't lean out so far. You
might fall and break your nose. Oh, oh, my precious boy, they'll kill
him!" she shrieked, as Charlie and Merry seized him by the arms and
pretended to pitch him overboard.