TENANTS FOR NO. 77
"Oh! do get out of the way, Ma'am Puss! What possesses you to be always
under foot? If you're looking for your little mistress she's not here,
She's gone away down town on business," cried Mrs. Chester to the cat,
as she stumbled over the creature for the third time in about as many
minutes.
The animal's behavior annoyed her. For some time it had kept up an
intermittent and most doleful mewing and, as if seeking some precious
thing no longer to be found, it had wandered in and out of corners in a
nerve-distracting way.
The house mistress herself was almost as uneasy as the cat, and she had
endured about all the mental strain she could without collapse; or, at
least, venting her overtaxed patience upon somebody. Ma'am Puss happened
to be the "somebody" most convenient, and with a fresh sinking of her
spirits, Martha Chester recalled the many frolics her husband, as well
as daughter, had had with their pet. Would anything in her life ever be
again as it had been!
Sitting down in the nearest chair, for a moment, the lonely woman took
the sleek maltese into her arms and held it close, stroking its fur
affectionately, and in a manner to surprise the recipient of this most
unusual attention. For Martha didn't like cats; and the only reason
Ma'am Puss was tolerated on her premises was because she liked rats and
mice still less. But now she not only petted but confided to the purring
feline the fact:
"Dorothy has been gone four hours, and I'm dreadfully worried. At the
longest she shouldn't have been gone more'n two, even if there was a
hold-up on the car line. Besides, she wouldn't have waited for such a
thing, anyway. She'd have started home on her own feet, first, for she's
a loving child and knows I need her help. That money-letter! I'm afraid
somebody's waylaid her and took it away. It wasn't so much--to some
people--but ten dollars? Why, Puss, a man was murdered out Towson way
for less than that, not so long ago! I wish she'd come. Oh! How I wish
she'd come!"
But Dorothy did not come. There was no sign of her on the street, no
matter how many times the anxious watcher ran to the door and looked
out; and the four hours were fast lengthening into five when the first
change came to divert Mrs. Chester's thoughts, for the time being, from
her terrible forebodings. As she gazed in one direction for the sight of
a blue gingham frock a cheerful voice called to her from another:
"Howdy, Mis' Chester? Now ain't I brought you the greatest luck? Here's
my sister-in-law, without chick nor child to upset things, and only a
husband that's night watchman--is going to be--come right here to
Baltimore an' is looking for a house. Firm he's worked for is putting up
a new factory, right over in them open lots beyond an' nothin' to do but
he must take care of 'em. This is my sister-in-law, Mis' Jones, Mis'
Chester. I was a Jones myself. Well, they're ready to rent or buy,
reasonable, either one; and I reckon it's a chance you won't get in a
hurry--no children, too! What you say?"
For a moment Martha could say nothing, except to bid her callers enter
the house and to place them comfortably in the cool parlor; and even her
first remark bore little on the subject Mrs. Bruce had presented.
Handing fans all round she ejaculated:
"It's so terrible hot! I'm all beat out--picking up and--and worrying."
"Well, to get your house off your hands so sudden'll be one worry less,"
comforted Mrs. Bruce, fanning herself vigorously and looking as if such
a thing as anxiety had never entered her own contented mind.
"I--I just stepped 'round to the drug-store, a spell ago, and telephoned
to three real-estate men to come up an' look things over. I--Why, it's
only Monday morning, and I've got a whole week yet. I mean--It seems so
sudden. I've got to see John--No, I haven't. It seems dreadful to take
such steps, do business without him, which I never have, but the
doctors--How much rent'd you be willing to pay, Mis' Jones?"
Poor Mrs. Chester was strangely distraught. Her neighbor, the plumber's
wife, had never seen her like this, but she understood some part of what
the other was suffering, though, as yet, she was ignorant of Dorothy's
prolonged absence; and she again tried to console:
"I know just how you feel. Havin' slaved so long to pay for the house,
out of a postman's salary, an' him an' you bein' such a happy contented
couple--Don't doubt I'm feelin' for you an' wantin' to lend a hand, if
so be I can. As to rent, there ain't never no houses on this one-hunderd
block of Brown Street _to_ rent. We both know that, 'cause it's the
nicest kept one, with the prettiest back yard anywhere's near. No negro
houses in the alleys, neither. So, course, this is a splendid chance for
Bill and Jane; but I asked Mr. Bruce an' he said twenty dollars a month
was fair and the goin' rates."
Mrs. Chester listened with still greater dismay. At the utmost she had
expected the watchman would offer no more than fifteen dollars, but
twenty! The highest rate she had looked to receive from anybody. Of
course she wanted to rent--she had now fully decided not to sell--but to
succeed so promptly, was almost like having the ground taken from
beneath her feet.
At last she forced herself to say:
"I know it's a good chance. I'm not unmindful it's a neighborly thing in
you, Mrs. Bruce, or that Mrs. Jones'd make a good tenant. I'm--Well,
I'll try to give you your answer some time to-night. Will that do?"
Mrs. Bruce rose and there was some asperity in her tone as she returned:
"I s'pose it'll have to do, since you're the one to pass the word. But
we'll look round, other houses, anyway. My folks have left their old
place an' this week's the only idle one Bill'll have. He wants to help
Jane settle--she ain't overly strong--and they'd like to move in
a-Wednesday, or Thursday mornin' at the latest."
"So--soon!" gasped the mistress of No. 77. Despite her will a tear
stole down her cheek and her warm-hearted neighbor was instantly moved
to greater sympathy. Laying her fat hand on Mrs. Chester's bowed head
she urged:
"Keep up your spirit, Martha. If you just rent, why you know you can
come back any time. A month's notice, give an' take, that's all. I'm
hopin' John'll get well right away, an' you'll all come flyin' back to
Baltimore. By the way, where's Dorothy? Mabel said she wasn't goin' to
school no more."
"Oh, Mrs. Bruce, I don't know! I don't know!" and the anxious mother
poured out her perplexities in the ear of this other mother, who
promptly said:
"Well, if I was you, Martha Chester, I'd put on my hat and go straight
down to that post-office an' find out what had become of her. If 'twas
Mabel, I should."
"Oh! that's what I've been longing to do! But I thought the real-estate
men might come, and I dared not leave. I'm getting so nervous I can't
keep still, and as for going on with my packing, it's no use. I must go
to see John, this afternoon, too, and----"
"Martha Chester, have you had a bite to eat?" demanded Mrs. Bruce, in an
accusing tone.
Martha smiled, and reluctantly answered:
"I don't believe I have. I didn't think, but--course, it's past lunch
time."
"Lunch! Hear her, Jane. She's one o' the fashionable women 't cooks her
dinner at sundown!" cried the plumber's wife, with an attempt at
raillery, but in her mind already deciding that hunger was half the
matter with her neighbor's nerves. "Now, look here, the pair of you. Me
an' him is more sensibler. We have our dinner at dinner time, and you
know that was as nice a vegetable soup we had this noon, Jane Jones, as
ever was made, an' you needn't deny it. You just stay here a minute an'
Martha'll show you round the house, an' the garden--That garden'll
tickle Bill 'most to death, he's that set on posies!--while I skip home
and fetch a pail of it. 'Twon't take a minute to do it, an' it can be
het up on the gas stove, even if the range fire's out. By that time
Dorothy C. 'll have got back: an' me an' Jane'll help her keep house
while you step across to Johns Hopkins. I reckon that's good plannin',
so you begin while I skip."
The idea of corpulent Mrs. Bruce "skipping" brought a smile to both the
listeners' faces, but Martha was already greatly comforted and now
realized that she was, indeed, faint from want of food. She had taken
but little breakfast, being "too busy to eat," as she explained; but she
now set out on a tour of the little house with much pride in it, and in
the fact that taken unaware, even, it would be found in spotless order.
Her washing was already drying in the sunny garden among the roses and
Mrs. Jones's delight over that part of the premises was most flattering.
Indeed, there was a dainty simplicity about the little country-woman
which now quite won Mrs. Chester's heart, and after they had examined
each of the rooms, and each had found Mrs. Jones more and more
enthusiastic, the impulsive housemistress exclaimed:
"Maybe you'll think I'm queer, but I believe the Lord just sent you!
That you're the very one will love our home for us while we're away."
"Oh! I'm glad to hear you say that. It's the way I feel about things. I
ain't so glib a talker as _his_ folks is, but I think a good deal. I've
always hankered to live in a city, where if _I_ wanted a bucket of
water, all I'd have to do would be to turn a spigot, 'stead of tugging
it up a hill from a spring or hauling it out a well. An' Bill, he's
tidy. I've trained him. I begun right off, soon's we was married. The
Joneses they--well, they ain't none of 'em too partic'lar, though
warmer-hearted folks never lived. But, my man? Why, bless you, now he'd
no more think o' comin' in from outdoors without takin' off his boots
an' puttin' on his slippers 'an he'd think o' flyin'. I didn't have to
scold him into it, neither. 'Twas just himself seein' me get down an'
scrub up the mud he'd tracked in, without even wipin' his feet. But, my!
I said I wasn't no talker, an' here I'm makin' myself out a
story-teller. But, if so be you an' him come to a right agreement, I
promise you one thing: I'll take just as good care, or better, of your
prop'ty as if it was my own. Nobody couldn't do more than that, could
they?"
"No, indeed: and I'm glad I can have such good news to tell John when I
go to him. After all, Mrs. Jones, property troubles don't compare with
troubles of your heart. I feel so different, all in these few minutes,
so glad you came. I reckon there won't be no difficulty about the
agreement: and--look! There comes Mrs. Bruce already and a colored girl
with her."
The plumber's wife entered, panting from her efforts to carry a big pail
of soup at sufficient distance from her fat sides to keep it from
spilling, and announcing that the basket the little colored maid had in
hand contained "a few other things I picked up, might come in nice."
"An' I collared 'Mandy, here, on the street. She's the girl does my
front, an' I thought she might do yours, to-day. She does it for a
nickel and don't you pay her no more. Hear, 'Mandy? If you leave a speck
on this lady's steps, I won't give you that baker's cake I promised.
Where's your cleanin' things, Mis' Chester?"
These were quickly produced and then the housemistress sat down to her
meal, her guests declining to join her in it, though more than willing
to sit beside her and talk while she ate. Moreover, Mrs. Bruce was
extremely proud to show this other notable housekeeper a specimen of her
own cooking, knowing that she was usually considered a failure in that
line, but had succeeded well this time.
Then said Mrs. Jones:
"I've been thinkin' things over a mite, whilst you two talked. Bill's
and my goods are to the depot here, ready packed an' waitin', and I've
not a hand's turn to do, till I get a place to unpack them in. If you'll
let me I'd admire to come help you get your stuff ready for movin'.
Havin' just done mine I've sort of got my hand in, so to speak, an' can
take hold capable. I'll look after the house, too, and learn the ways of
it, while you're off on your errands or seeing your husband, or the
like. What say, sister, to that notion?"
"I call it first-rate: an' I'll be able to help some, 'tween times. Now,
Martha Chester, if you've finished your dinner, be off with you. Jane
an' me'll do everything all right, an' I'm getting as wild to have
Dorothy back as you are. Don't suppose she's one to run away an' play
with some the school children, do you?" said Mrs. Bruce.
"No, I don't. I wish I did think she might, but Dorothy never ran away,
not in all her life, except when she was a mite of a thing and followed
her father on his route. Well, you can tell the real-estate men, if they
come, 't the thing is settled already. I say it 'tis, but I reckon
they'll be some put out, comin' up here for nothing. Good-bye. Do wish
me good luck! and I'll hurry back."
Late though she felt that she was for her hospital visit, Mrs. Chester
hurried first to the post-office, her anxiety increasing all the way,
and reached it just as Mr. Lathrop was leaving it for his last delivery.
To her anxious inquiry he returned a discouraging:
"No. I haven't seen Dorothy since early this morning, when I helped her
a bit in getting her money-letter. But I'll ask if anybody else knows
what became of her. Doubtless she'll turn up all right and with a
simple explanation of her absence. She's a bright little girl, you'll
find her all safe. I'll go back with you now."
Thus for the second time that day, the busy postman delayed his own work
to do kindness to a comrade's family, nor could he quite understand why
his faith in his own words was less than he wished hers to be. It was
rare to hear of a child being lost in that safe city, and it would be a
bitter blow to the already afflicted John Chester if harm befell his
adopted daughter. When no good news could be obtained here, he advised
Martha to go on to the hospital but to say nothing to her husband of
Dorothy. He would notify the police, and if she had met with any
accident, or by some rare mischance lost her way, she would speedily be
traced.
Because she could do no better, Mrs. Chester followed his advice,
boarded a car for the hospital, and was soon at her husband's side. But
alas! She was to find no comfort in this interview. With a natural
reaction from his first elation over the possibility of recovery he was
now greatly depressed. Having lived so long on will-power, and having
once given up, he had developed a great weakness of body, and, in a
degree, of mind. Before his wife was admitted to his presence she was
warned that nothing but the pleasantest topics must be discussed, and
was told that the doctors now desired him to be removed to the country
right away.
"This terrible heat has injured him, as it has others. Get him out of
town at once, Mrs. Chester, if you would save his life."
So when he asked for Dorothy she ignored his question, but talked glibly
of the fine chance that they had of letting the house: yet to her
amazement he showed no interest in this matter.
"Do whatever you think best, little woman. I don't care. I don't believe
I'll ever care about anything in the world again."
"Oh, John! Don't say that. You'll be better soon. But, good-bye till
to-morrow:" and hastily bidding him expect her then, with some home
flowers and "lots of good news," she hurried away.
"No news?" she asked, as her own door opened to receive her, and the
gentle little country-woman welcomed her.
"Oh! no. Not yet. Ain't hardly time!" cheerfully responded Jane Jones,
just as if she were imparting other tidings. "Mustn't look for miracles,
nowadays. That child's off visitin', somewheres, you may depend. And you
mustn't be hard on her when she comes back," advised this new friend.
"Hard on her? Me? Why, I'd give ten years of my life to know she was
safe, this minute! _Hard on her!_ All I ask is to hold her fast in my
arms once more. But, course, you don't know Dorothy C. The little child
that was _sent_, and that's made John an' me so happy all her life.
Look. Here's her picture. We thought it was extravagant, but somehow we
felt we had to have it. 'Twas taken this very spring, on the same day we
found her on the steps."
From a little secretary in the dining room Mrs. Chester produced the
photograph, still carefully wrapped in its waxed paper covering, and
displayed to her admiring guest the picture of a very lovely child. The
shapely head was crowned by short brown curls, the big brown eyes looked
eagerly forth, and the pretty red lips were curved in a half-smile that
was altogether bewitching.
"Why! She's a beauty! A regular beauty! She looks as if she belonged to
high-up folks; I declare she does," commented Mrs. Jones.
Mother Martha was touched by this sincere admiration, and lifting the
picture to her lips lightly pressed a kiss upon it. Then she carefully
put it away again, saying with a sigh:
"We'd laid out to get it framed, soon, and hang it in the parlor. That's
why we had but one taken. John thought one big one was better worth
while than a dozen small ones. My! Hark! What's that? Such a ring--my
heart's in my mouth--you open the door--please--I can't!" and so
imploring, Mrs. Chester sank upon the lounge and covered her face with
her hands.
Even Mrs. Jones was all a-tremble and her hands fumbled so with the
unfamiliar latch that the housemistress sprang to her feet and opened
the door herself with the glad cry:
"Dorothy! Dorothy, have you come?"
"Not Dorothy, Mrs. Chester; just Lathrop, you know, with a detective,
come to get some points."