VAULTING AMBITIONS.
In the course of a few days Constance’s new quarters in the Arcade were
in operation, for Mr. Porter lost no time in fitting up Arch Number One.
The little booth beneath the stairs was dismantled to furnish forth the
new one. Down at the kitchen Mary and her sister Fanny, who had come to
assist in the work, were doing their best to keep abreast of the orders
pouring in with each mail, while Mrs. Carruth, her ambitions at length
achieved, was attending to the correspondence, since Constance’s time
must for a little while be given to the new booth. She had not received
a reply to her letter to Kitty Sniffins, and for the time being was too
occupied with the demands of the new booth to take further steps in the
matter. Indeed, she had about made up her mind to look for someone else,
once order was brought out of the confusion of moving and settling, for
some indefinable instinct caused her to feel an aversion to engaging
Kitty Sniffins. Had she been asked to state why, she would have found it
difficult to put her objection into actual words, and more than once she
reproached herself for entertaining it at all. Nevertheless, she could
not free herself from it, but was too busy just then to dwell upon it.
In the course of a few days everything would be settled and in running
order; and meanwhile she, herself, would go to the Arcade each day
where, with Charles as her Majordomo, body-guard and faithful friend,
she was a veritable queen of her little realm, and woe betide the
individual so reckless as to forget that he or she was in the presence
of a Blairsdale.
The pretty Arch had been in perfect running order for one week when
Constance began to cast about for someone to take her place, since
neither she herself, nor her family felt content to have her make the
journey to and from South Riveredge each day, or to spend her time at
the Arch. On the previous Saturday she had put a carefully-worded
advertisement in the _Riveredge Times_, the answers to be sent to Arch
No. 1, Arcade Building; and upon her arrival at her Arch on this Monday
morning she found dozens of letters from girls, and even men, asking
employment. She was reading one of the letters when a shadow fell across
the page, and raising her eyes she saw a young man standing at the
counter. Thinking he had come to purchase a box of candy, she rose from
her chair and stood waiting for him to make his wants known to her.
Instead of doing so, he raised his hat, and with a most impressive bend
of his long, loosely-hung figure, and a smile which irritated her by its
self-complacency, said:
“How are you, Miss Carruth? You’re sure putting up a big show here,
ain’t you?”
“What can I do for you?” asked Constance, with quiet dignity.
“Guess you can’t do nothing for _me_, but maybe I can do something for
_you_. Candy ain’t in my line. Never spent none o’ my solid cash for the
stuff, but I’m glad other people do; plenty of fools in this world to
help wise folks get rich, ain’t there?”
“Will you please state your business?” and Constance took up another
letter as a hint to her unwelcome visitor that her time, if not his, was
of some value.
“Got a pile o’ answers, ain’t you? That’s just what I thought, and it’s
just what brought me down here this early. This letter come for Kitty in
my care ’most a week ago, but she’s down in the city doin’ somethin’ or
’nother; don’t ’mount to much, I guess, though. I knew she hadn’t no
friends up yonder in swell Riveredge, and when I saw your ad. in the
_Riveredge Times_ it didn’t take me no time to put two and two together.
Oh, I’m fly, I am! I knowed—_knew_—the postmark meant something about
that candy kitchen, ’cause Mary Willing and Kit used to be school pals,
and I guessed you was a-lookin’ for more help, and I don’t often guess
wrong, neither. I sent a telegraph to Kit to come on home this mornin’
to see you, but I weren’t goin’ to take any chances, so I come right up
to clench the job for her.”
“Then I assume that you are Miss Sniffins’ brother. May I ask why you
felt so sure that the letter sent to your care was from me, or had
anything to do with my need of more help in this business?”
The smile and wink which prefaced his reply nearly proved the last
straw. Quietly reaching below the counter, Constance pressed an electric
button. She had been wise beyond her years when she had this connection
made between her Arch and Charles’ counter. Sniffins did not notice the
motion.
“Well, you see, I’m boss in my own house and run the wimmin-folks. When
I suspicioned what the letter was, I just took French leave, so to
speak, and opened and read it——”
“What!” The indignation in Constance’s tone was a trifle disconcerting
even to the thick-skinned Sniffins, and he had the grace to color
slightly. But it was only momentary. He rarely forgot Sniffins.
“Oh, that’s all O. K. All in the family, you see. Kit won’t dare kick;
she ain’t the kickin’ kind—not with _me_, anyhow. She knows too well
which side her bread’s buttered to kick. _I’m_ the head of things down
yonder in our house, and as long as I can earn the pile and put up the
cash for ’em Ma and Kit can toe the mark. But I don’t see no reason why
they shouldn’t add some to the pile. We ain’t, so-to-speak, _rich_ yet,
but we ain’t _poor_; oh, no-siree, we ain’t poor. That savings bank next
door knows we ain’t poor no more, and it knows we’re goin’ to be——”
“Yes, Charles, I need you,” interrupted Constance, for unobserved by her
visitor old Charles had drawn near, and now stood just behind Sniffins,
and had heard a good portion of his senseless boasting.
“Yas, Mist’ess, I’s right hyer fer ter sarve yo’.”
Sniffins turned quickly.
“Hello, old stager, where did you come from?”
Charles paid no more attention to him than he would have paid to a stray
dog—not as much.
“Will you please remain at the counter a few moments, Charles. When your
sister returns she may call here to see me, Mr. Sniffins. Good-morning.”
And without another glance at the man Constance walked quickly away from
the counter, and down to the ’phone booth, where she called a number.
Sniffins’ eyes followed her. When she disappeared he turned to Charles
and, with an unpleasant sneer, remarked: “Workin’ for her livin’ an’
tryin’ ter play the big-bug, too, ain’t she?”
“Does yo’ wish fer ter purchase some of dis hyer candy, sah?” asked
Charles, icily.
“No, I don’t, an’ if I did I ain’t takin’ it from niggers.”
“No, sah, I don’ reckon yo’ is, kase—Mor’in’, Massa Po’tah, I’se right
glad fer ter see a _gemmen_, sah. Dey’s mighty skurse sometimes. How kin
I sarve yo’, sah?”
“Morning, Charles. Where is my little girl this morning? Gone to the
telephone booth? Be back pretty quick, won’t she? I want to speak to her
a moment.”
“She’ll return, sah, when de air’s better fer her ter breve; it got sort
o’ foul-like, an’ if you’se no objections I’se gwine raise de winder
jist a trifle.”
“Do, by all means. Must keep the air pure and sweet for that little
lady.”
“Yas, sir: Yas, sir: Dat’s percis’ly what I’s amin’ ter do. _Dat’s_ why
I’se always on han’.”
“Good! We’ll watch out for her, won’t we? Hello, Sniffins. How about
that big deal you were going to put through for me? I haven’t heard much
about it lately.”
“Oh, you’ll hear from that all right, all right. Trouble is you expect a
man to do in two weeks somethin’ most men needs two months to do.”
“Well if _you_ take two months to settle that matter for me, the other
fellow, _who can_ do it in two weeks, will win out, you mark my word. So
you’d better not take time to buy candy at ten A. M. on Monday
mornings,” for in some way Mr. Porter had gathered from Charles the true
situation, and had given this broad hint. Sniffins was not given to
taking hints, but he dared not go counter to Mr. Porter’s implied wish
that he leave the Candy Arch. Still, he was bound to have his last shot,
and, with what he intended to be a telling glance, he said:
“You tell Miss Carruth that my sister will take that position, and I’ll
call ’round later to arrange about her salary.”
“It will not be necessary for you to do so, Mr. Sniffins; I have just
’phoned to someone else.” Constance had returned so quietly that no one
was aware of her approach.
“How do you do, Mr. Porter? I am glad to see you. What can I do for you?
Come into my sanctum.”
She led the way to the rear of the Arch, where a little inclosure held
her desk and two chairs. Sniffins turned to leave the Arch. At the
entrance he came face to face with Hadyn Stuyvesant. The look which
accompanied the nod Sniffins gave him was not pleasant. Hadyn did not
know him at all, and looked at him in surprise, believing him to have
mistaken him for someone else. But Sniffins knew Hadyn.
“So _he’s_ on there, too, is he? Guess he can see through a millstone
most as far as other folks can. If that girl keeps on she’s goin’ to be
rich, _rich_. That business has growed—ah, grown—like a—a—well, it’s
_grown_. ’For’ long she’s goin’ to have a big thing in it. Wake up,
Sniffins, my boy. You’re got as good a chance as any other fellow, an’
you’re no sloach on looks, neither. Get busy and spruce up more’n ever.
Buy some new clothes, old man; you’ll find ’em a good investment, I tell
you. Get Kit down there _somehow_; that’s your best wedge for gettin’
into the swell set up yonder. Kit’s half-way good-lookin’, and ain’t got
the spunk of a mouse to do any way except the way _I_ tell her.”
By the time this monologue came to an end Sniffins had turned into his
office on State Street, and there found his sister awaiting him. She had
returned to South Riveredge nearly frightened to death by his telegram.
“Ah, cut it out! What’s the use whooping things up for nothing?” was his
short ordering. “Nobody’s dead nor dyin’, but I want you to get down to
the Arcade and _get this job_, see? Don’t come back here whinin’ that
you _can’t_. You’re _got_ to get it, or you can dust out o’ South
Riveredge an’ your happy home. Now listen to what I’m tellin’ you: Don’t
you let on _who_ you _are_. If you do the jig’s up, for that high and
mighty sprig down there ain’t got no sort o’ use for _me_. But I’ll
_tame_ her. I ain’t seen the girl yet I couldn’t tame. But I want you
there ’cause I want to keep track of the revenue, do you see? and if
your head’s worth half a muttonhead you can’t _help_ gettin’ a good idea
of what that business is worth, and that’s what I mean to know. She
don’t know you from a hole in the ground, and you ain’t goin’ to let
her——”
“But she will know my name, Lige.”
“How will she know your name if you don’t _tell_ her your name? You’ve
got a middle name, ain’t you? Well, what’s the matter with that?
Katherine Boggs is all right, ain’t it? You haven’t _got_ to tack on the
Sniffins.”
“Oh, I’d forget, and people would know me, and I’d be scared to death to
do it, Lige.”
“Now see here: You’ll be scared to death if you _don’t_ do it, let me
tell you, for I’ll scare you myself. Now get down there and do the job
right up to the mark.”
About half an hour later a sweet-faced, timid girl presented herself at
Constance’s Arch. She seemed unduly agitated, and her hands trembled as
she rested them on the counter, to ask if Miss Carruth was to be seen.
“I think she can be,” answered Constance, smiling encouragingly at the
perturbed little figure before her, for Constance was too much her
mother’s child not to feel the deepest sympathy for such a girl.
“Is she in?” ventured her visitor.
“I am Miss Carruth. What can I do for you?”
“Oh! Why, you want a girl, a clerk?”
“I do. Come into my little office; no one will interrupt us there. Sit
down; you seem tired. Now tell me all about it. I’ve had such a pile of
letters that I hardly know which to answer. By the way, I have just
’phoned to one who gave me her number but not her name. I asked her to
call at once. I wonder if you can be No. 795?” Constance paused with a
most encouraging smile upon her lips and light in her eyes.
“Yes—oh—no; I mean——”
“Why are you so nervous? It will not be a very difficult undertaking,
I’m sure, just to sit here and sell boxes of candy, and I’m not _half_
as formidable a young woman as you must have pictured me. The hours are
not so very long, and there will be a good many spare moments. The
salary is seven dollars a week. Do you care to consider it, Miss——?”
“S—Boggs, I mean Miss Boggs. Yes, I’ll take it, I want it very much,
I’ll try to please you——”
Constance looked at the girl. What ailed her? Why this feverish
eagerness to secure the position, and why a degree of nervousness which
almost amounted to a panic?
“Will you please give me your address? And”—Constance hesitated. She was
upon the point of asking for references, but sympathy for the girl
withheld her from doing so.
The girl gave an address in a distant part of the town, and rose to go.
Constance’s look held her. There was nothing alarming in the quiet gaze
of those deep brown eyes; on the contrary, it was soothing, if
compelling.
“Do you mind telling me why you are so agitated? I can see no cause for
it, yet there may be one which I do not guess, and if I can help remove
it I shall be glad to do so. It troubles me to see you disturbed.
Perhaps a good deal depends upon your securing a situation at once, and
if that is the cause of your trouble we have removed it, haven’t we? for
you are already engaged.”
“Oh, yes, I know I’m very foolish; I do want the situation; I’ve _got_
to take it; I’ll do my very, very best; I truly will. Please excuse me.
When must I come?”
“Can you come this afternoon? I am very anxious to get back to my duties
in my candy kitchen, and if you can arrange to come here after luncheon,
I shall have time to show you the little things you would like to learn,
and to-morrow morning you can get along without me.”
“Yes, I’ll come. I’ll be here at two o’clock, and I’ll try so hard to
please you, Miss Carruth.” For a moment a smile lighted up the girl’s
face and quite transformed it.
She was a plain, colorless little thing, but something in her smile made
her very attractive.
“I shall be here. Good-bye for a couple of hours.”
The girl hurried away.
“Well, if she isn’t one of the oddest little creatures I’ve ever come
across. I am sure I don’t know what impelled me to engage her, for I
dare say I could have found a dozen others much better qualified to
attend to things here, but—somehow—well, I dare say, there’s a lot of
mother in me, and when our sympathies are aroused we sometimes do queer
things.”
Constance was not conscious of having spoken aloud, as she moved about
the Arch arranging and giving a touch here and there, until a laughing
voice asked:
“What is this I’m listening to? A budding elocutionist practicing her
monologue?”
“Does sound a little like it, doesn’t it? but it’s nothing half so
brilliant. In fact, you might suspect me of bordering on mental
aberration instead if I told you, so I reckon I won’t. But I am starved
even if you are not. Let us go see what Blairsdale _and_ Devon have to
offer to-day.”
A moment later Constance and Hadyn Stuyvesant were seated in the little
screened-off corner back of Charles’ counter, his duties transferred to
his satellite, as he laid before his young mistress, and the one whom in
his faithful old heart he had long cherished a wish to call his “Young
Massa,” the dainties especially prepared for them by Mammy.