It was certainly a fact that Amanda Parlow immediately usurped some
power in the household of the Stagg homestead. She ordered Joseph Stagg
not to go down to his store that next day. And he did not!
Nor could he attend to business for several days thereafter. He was too
stiff and lame and his burns were too painful.
Chet Gormley came up each day for instructions and was exceedingly full
of business. A man would have to be very exacting indeed to find fault
with the interest the boy displayed in running the store just as his
employer desired it to be run.
"I tell you what it is, Car'lyn," Chet drawled, in confidence. "I'm
mighty sorry Mr. Stagg got hurt like he did. But lemme tell you, it's
jest givin' me the chance of my life!
"Why, maw says that Mr. Stagg and Miss Mandy Parlow'll git married for
sure now!"
"Oh, yes," sighed the little girl. "They'll be married."
"Well, when folks git married they allus go off on a trip. Course,
_they_ will. And me--I'll be runnin' the business all by myself. It'll be
great! Mr. Stagg will see jest how much value I be to him. Why, it'll be
the makin' of me!" cried the optimistic youth.
Yes, Carolyn May heard it on all sides. Everybody was talking about the
affair of Uncle Joe and Miss Amanda.
Every time she saw her uncle and her "pretty lady" together the
observant child could not but notice that they were utterly wrapped up
in each other. It is only between lovers who have been heart-hungry for
long years, as these two had, that a perfectly open expression of
affection is maintained.
The modest spinster and the bashful bachelor seemed to have sloughed off
their former natures. They had developed a new and exceedingly strange
life, as different from their former existence as the butterfly's is
from the caterpillar's.
Miss Amanda could not go past the easy chair in which the hardware
dealer was enthroned without touching him. He, as bold as a boy, would
seize her hand and kiss it. Her soft, capable hand would linger on his
head in so tender a gesture that it might have brought tears to the eyes
of a sympathetic observer.
Love, a mighty, warm, throbbing spirit, had caught them up and swept
them away out of themselves--out of their old selves, at least. They had
eyes only for each other--thoughts only for each other.
Even a child could see something of this. The absorption of the two made
Aunty Rose's remarks very impressive to Carolyn May.
A week of this followed--a week in which the trouble in Carolyn May's
heart and brain seethed until it became unbearable. She was convinced
that there would soon be no room for her in the big house. She watched
Aunty Rose pack her own trunk, and the old lady looked very glum,
indeed. She heard whispers of an immediate marriage, here in the house,
with Mr. Driggs as the officiating clergyman.
Everybody in the neighbourhood was interested in the affair and eagerly
curious; but Carolyn May could not talk about it. They thought she had
been instructed not to speak of the matter, but the little girl only
felt that she would cry if she talked of this event that was to make her
uncle and Miss Amanda so happy and herself so miserable.
"Oh, Prince!" she sobbed, clinging around the dog's neck out under their
favourite tree in the back yard of the Stagg place, "nobody wants us. We
never ought to have come here. Maybe it would have been better if we
_had_ gone to the poorhouse.
"Only, I s'pose, they wouldn't have wanted you, my dear. And you are the
very best friend I've got, Prince. You are! you are! _You_ wouldn't go
off and get married, would you?
"And I want 'em to be happy, too. Of course I do! But--but I didn't know
it was goin' to be like this. I--I wish I was back in our old home in New
York. Don't you wish so, Princey?
"There we had things that were our very own. Even if my mamma and papa
aren't there, it would be nice, I think. And Mr. and Mrs. Price would be
kind to us--and Edna. And there's the janitor's boy--he was a real nice
boy. And all the little girls we knew at school there.
"Oh!" cried Carolyn May, suddenly jumping up and dashing away her tears,
"I would just _love_ to go back there. And we _could_, Princey! I've got
more'n ten dollars in my bank, for Uncle Joe gave me a ten-dollar gold
piece at Christmas. That's more'n enough to take us back home. Oh, it
is! it is!"
The child's excitement thrilled her through and through. Her eyes
brightened and the flush came into her cheeks. She knew, through Chet
Gormley, that Mr. Stagg had never done anything with the furniture in
the flat. Her home--just as it had been when her mother and father were
alive--was back there in New York City. She had been happy at The Corners
in a way. But it was not the happiness she had known in her old home.
And now she believed that she saw great changes coming. Uncle Joe and
Miss Amanda would be just as Aunty Rose had hinted--so deeply engaged
with each other that they would have no time or thought for a
sunny-haired and blue-eyed little girl who had brought, all unknown to
herself, a new creed into the lives of many of the adults of The
Corners.
Carolyn May was not a sly child, but she was a secretive one. There is a
difference. She had many thoughts in her little head that her adult
friends did not suspect. She studied things out for herself. Being a
child, her conclusions were not always wise ones.
She felt that she might be a stumbling-block to the complete happiness
of Uncle Joe and Amanda Parlow. They might have to set aside their own
desires because of her. She felt vaguely that this must not be.
"I can go home," she repeated over and over to herself.
"Home" was still in the New York City apartment house where she had
lived so happily before that day when her father and mother had gone
aboard the ill-fated _Dunraven_.
Their complete loss out of the little girl's life had never become fixed
in her mind. It had never seemed a surety--not even after her talks with
the sailor, Benjamin Hardy.
Hardy had long since left the locality, having taken a berth again on
one of the lake schooners. Nobody seemed to have much time to give to
Carolyn May just at this time. Wherever she wandered about the
neighbourhood people were talking about the coming wedding of Uncle Joe
and Miss Amanda. Even Miss Minnie, at school, was quite in a flutter
over it.
Friday afternoon the little girl went to the churchyard and made neat
the three little graves and the one long one on the plot which belonged
to Aunty Rose Kennedy. She almost burst into tears that evening, too,
when she kissed Aunty Rose good-night at bedtime. Uncle Joe was down at
the Parlows. He and Mr. Parlow actually smoked their pipes together in
harmony on the cottage porch.
Aunty Rose was usually an early riser; but the first person up at The
Corners on that Saturday morning was Carolyn May. She was dressed a full
hour before the household was usually astir.
She came downstairs very softly, carrying the heavy bag she had brought
with her the day she had first come to The Corners. She had her purse in
her pocket, with all her money in it, and she had in the bag most of her
necessary possessions. She wore a black dress, but not the one she had
worn when she came from New York. That had been outgrown long since.
She washed her face and hands. Her hair was already combed and neatly
braided. From the pantry she secured some bread and butter, and, with
this in her hand, unlocked the porch door and went out. Prince got up,
yawning, and shook himself. She sat on the steps to eat the bread and
butter, dividing it with Prince.
"This is such a beautiful place, Princey," she whispered to the mongrel.
"We are going to miss it dreadfully, I s'pose. But, then-- Well, we'll
have the park. Only, you can't run so free there."
Prince whined. Carolyn May got up and shook the crumbs from her lap.
Then she unchained the dog and picked up her bag. Prince pranced about
her, glad to get his morning run.
The little girl and the dog went out of the gate and started along the
road towards Sunrise Cove. Nobody seemed to be astir. She looked back
and waved her hand at the Stagg house. She looked at the church, the
blacksmith shop, and the store. She bade them all good-bye.
Prince came to walk beside her and whined. He evidently could not
understand her going away from the place so early.
But Carolyn May knew what she was about. She knew all about the train
that went south. It left Sunrise Cove station before most people were
up, even at this time of year.
The houses had all been asleep at The Corners. So was the Parlow cottage
when she trudged by. She would have liked to see Miss Amanda, to kiss
her just once. But she must not think of that! It brought such a "gulpy"
feeling into her throat.
Nobody saw Carolyn May and Prince until she reached Main Street. Then
the sun had risen, and a few early persons were astir; but nobody
appeared who knew the child or who cared anything about her.
At the railroad station nobody spoke to her, for she bought no ticket.
She was not exactly clear in her mind about tickets, anyway. She had
found the conductor on the train coming up from New York a kind and
pleasant man, and she decided to do all her business with him.
Had she attempted to buy a ticket of the station agent, undoubtedly he
would have made some inquiry. As it was, when the train came along,
Carolyn May, after seeing Prince put into the baggage car, climbed
aboard with the help of a brakeman.
"Of course, if he howls _awfully_," she told the baggageman, who gave
her a check without question, "I shall have to go in that car and sit
with him."
There were not many people in the car. They steamed away from Sunrise
Cove, and Carolyn May dabbled her eyes with her handkerchief and told
herself to be brave.
The stations were a long way apart and the conductor did not come
through for some time. When he did open the door and come into the car
Carolyn May started up with a glad cry. It was the very conductor who
had been so kind to her on the trip up from New York.
The railroad man knew her at once and shook hands most heartily with
her.
"Where are you going, Carolyn May?" he asked.
"All the way with you, sir," she replied.
"To New York?"
"Yes, sir. I'm going home again."
"Then I'll see you later," he said, without asking for her ticket.
The conductor remembered the little girl very well, although he did not
remember all the details of her story. Nine months before she had gone
up to Sunrise Cove with him to visit relatives. As she had travelled
alone then, he did not think it strange that she was now travelling back
again without any guardian.
By-and-by he came back and sat down beside her. Carolyn May took out her
purse and offered him money for her fare.
"Didn't they buy you a ticket?" he asked in surprise.
"No, sir," she told him honestly.
"Well, I'll tend to it for you. You'll want that money for candy and
moving-picture shows in the city."
He was very kind to her and brought her satisfying news about Prince in
the baggage car. The brakeman was nice, too, and brought her water to
drink in a paper cup. And even the "candy butcher" made the journey
pleasanter by his attentions. He once dropped a package of candy in
Carolyn May's lap and then forgot to pick it up again!
So, altogether, she had a pleasant, if tiresome, ride to New York City.
At one place the brakeman brought into the car for her some sandwiches
and a glass of milk. He assured her, too, that the men in the baggage
car had divided their lunches with Prince and had given him water.
She slept part of the time, and while she was awake there was so much
going on that she could not feel very lonely. The excitement of
travelling had taken that empty feeling out of her heart.
At last, the long stretches of streets at right angles with the tracks
appeared--asphalt streets lined with tall apartment houses. This could be
nothing but New York City. Her papa had told her long ago that there was
no other city like it in the world.
She knew One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street and its elevated station.
That was not where she had boarded the train going north, when Mr. Price
had placed her in the conductor's care, but it was nearer her old
home--that she knew. So she told the brakeman she wanted to get out
there, and he arranged to have Prince released.
The little girl alighted and got her dog without misadventure. She was
down on the street level before the train continued on its journey
downtown.
At the Grand Central Terminal the conductor was met with a telegram sent
from Sunrise Cove by a certain frantic hardware dealer, and that
telegram told him something about Carolyn May of which he had not
thought to ask.