ARABELLA MAKES A CALL
ARABELLA peered at Floretta through her spectacles, and was tempted not
to reply, but after a moment's pause she changed her mind.
"I came to see Dorothy Dainty, and Nancy Ferris," she said.
"They're out driving," said Floretta.
"How do you know?" Arabella asked, rudely.
"Because I heard them say they were going, and because I saw them go,"
was the quick reply.
"It's a long way over here, and now I've got to take the same walk
back," said Arabella.
"They're going to be out all the afternoon," said Floretta, "but why
don't you sit down, and rest a while before you go back?"
It sounded kind, and Arabella at once seated herself, while Floretta sat
near her.
She thought it would be great fun to question this odd child, and there
was no one near to check her.
"Aren't you nearly roasted in that raincoat?" she asked.
"Well, I'm not chilly," said Arabella, fixing her sharp eyes upon the
other little girl.
"Did you think it was going to rain?" was the next question. "You've
rubbers, and umbrella."
Floretta barely managed to hide the fact that she wanted to laugh. Her
question seemed so absurd with the blue sky overhead, and the sunshine
everywhere.
"I didn't want to wear them," said Arabella, "and I told Aunt Matilda it
was too pleasant to rain, but she said you never could tell, and she
said, too, that I could wear them, or stay at home, so what could I do?"
"_I'd_ have stayed at home," said Floretta, bluntly. "I wouldn't wear
raincoat and rubbers, and lug an umbrella for any Aunt Matilda or Aunt
Jemima!"
"Who is Aunt Jemima?" Arabella asked, stupidly.
"I don't know," said Floretta, sharply, "but then, I don't know your
Aunt Matilda."
She longed to say that she did not want to, but for once she did not
quite dare to say what she thought.
Then there was an awkward pause. Floretta could not think what to say
next, while Arabella did not try.
Silence never made her uneasy. She could stare at any one who sat
opposite her, for a half-hour, without so much as winking, and it rather
amused her if the other person became nervous, and wriggled uneasily
beneath her persistent stare. At last Floretta spoke.
"You might take some of those things off," she said; "you won't need
them while you stay."
"Aunt Matilda told me not to," said Arabella, "and if I _did_, it would
be just my luck to have her come right by here, and see me with them
off. My! _Wouldn't_ she be angry?"
Arabella's eyes dilated as she asked the question.
"Does your Aunt Matilda poke 'round after you like that?" asked
Floretta.
"She doesn't ever _seem_ to follow me, but all the same, she's always
catching me doing something."
"Then you _do_ risk doing what she tells you not to," said Floretta,
with a saucy laugh.
"Look here!" cried Arabella, "I don't know you, but I'm going to tell
you something. I can't do one single thing I want to, neither can my
papa or mamma. Aunt Matilda is little, and my papa is big. He says he
was centre-rush on the college football team, but when Aunt Matilda
tells him what to do, he says, 'Yes'm,' and does it. One of our
neighbors at home says Aunt Matilda holds the purse-strings, but I don't
know what that means. Her purse hasn't any strings on it."
"Well, if it _had_, I'd cut 'em off," said Floretta, "so she _couldn't_
hold 'em."
"You wouldn't if she lived at _your_ house," said Arabella.
Floretta, in spite of her boldness, was more than half convinced.
"Well,--perhaps I wouldn't," she said. "Why, what are you taking?"
"Pills," said Arabella, counting out six very pink pills from a little
bottle, and taking them, then making a horrid face.
"You don't look sick," said Floretta, "but you're taking medicine."
"Aunt Matilda says these are for my color," was the answer.
"You haven't any; you're pale as a sheet," said Floretta.
"That's why I take them," said Arabella, "and look! I've got some green
ones I take," and six green pills followed the pink ones.
"Why, what are those for?" gasped Floretta. "Ought you to take two kinds
at the same time?"
Arabella, determined to startle her new acquaintance, took a third
bottle from her pocket, and swallowed three very large white pills.
She was delighted with the effect that she had produced.
Floretta sprang to her feet, and tried to snatch the bottle, but
Arabella had put it in her pocket, and was holding the pocket together.
She narrowed her shrewd little eyes, and smiled broadly.
"Guess you couldn't take all that, and not feel queer!" she said.
"I wouldn't wonder if you felt funny. _Do_ you?" asked Floretta.
"Not _yet_," said Arabella.
Floretta was getting tired of her caller. She hoped that she hadn't any
more kinds of medicine that she could take.
She wished that Dorothy would return and amuse Arabella.
She would have run away from any one else, and rudely left her alone,
but there was something so strange about this child that she feared her.
She had a nervous feeling that if she turned to leave her, Arabella
might snatch at her, and draw her back. She certainly did look odd.
There was something catlike in the way in which she kept her eyes
riveted upon Floretta.
She looked as if, at any moment, she might spring at her!
She was not thinking of doing anything of the sort, however.
The truth was that she _did_ feel just a bit queer.
Was it the three kinds of pills? She could not tell, but she began to
feel as if she would be glad if she were at home.
"I guess I'll go now," she said. "I think it must be time."
"What time did your Aunt Matilda tell you to come home?" Floretta asked.
"She said I could stay to dinner if Dorothy asked me, but she doesn't
come home, so I guess I won't wait."
"Go to dinner at the Cleverton in that plaid gingham!" thought Floretta,
for she had seen the plain little frock beneath the raincoat.
[Illustration: SHE OFFERED TWO CARDS TO FLORETTA.--_Page 210._]
Arabella grasped her big umbrella firmly, and turned, as she went down
the steps, to say:
"You may tell Dorothy Dainty that _Miss_ Corryville called."
Floretta giggled.
"And you might tell your Aunt Matilda that you talked with _Miss_
Paxton," she said.
"I will," said Arabella, without a sign of a smile.
"I wonder you don't leave cards," said Floretta, and to her surprise,
the queer child put her hand in the pocket of her raincoat, and, without
looking at them, offered two cards to Floretta, saying:
"There they are."
Then, without looking back, she marched resolutely down the road. She
did not thank Floretta for talking with her while she rested, nor did
she say "good-by."
For some moments Floretta stood watching the odd little figure as it
tramped down the road, the umbrella, like a huge walking stick, thumping
the gravel at every step. She thought Arabella would turn around, but
she did not.
One might have thought that she had already forgotten the child with
whom she had been talking. When, at last, she disappeared behind a clump
of trees that hid the curve of the road, Floretta looked at the two
cards in her hand, stared at them in amazement, and then laughed,
laughed until her eyes were full of tears.
Who could have helped laughing? One card bore these lines:
JAMES HORTON WORTH,
PAINLESS DENTISTRY,
10 TREVOR STREET, MERRIVALE.
While the other, equally interesting, bore this statement:
ALTON JUSTUS MEER,
JEWELLER,
90 RUPERT ROAD, MERRIVALE.
"How perfectly funny," cried Floretta. "I'll run up and show them to
mamma, and then I'll wait here to give them to Dorothy and Nancy when
they come. I wonder if they'll have any choice?"
Dorothy and Nancy felt, as did the older members of the party, that the
ride had been the most delightful of any that they had enjoyed since
their arrival.
The horses were tossing their manes, and Romeo, as if in imitation,
tossed his so that it showed all its silken beauty.
"See him!" cried Dorothy. "He thinks he's as fine as any horse."
"Well, he is as dear as they," said Nancy.
"Oh, yes," said Dorothy, "and dearer."
And when the horses and the pony had been led around to the stable, and
the older members of the party had reached the piazza, Dorothy and
Nancy, who had paused for a moment to talk, ran up the steps, intending
to sit together in a large rocker.
Before they reached the chair, Floretta flew toward them.
"You had a funny caller while you were out driving," she said, with a
giggle, "and she was so very fashionable that she left these cards. She
told me to tell you that _Miss_ Corryville had called."
"It was Arabella," said Nancy.
"Did she truly say '_Miss_?'" Dorothy asked.
"Well, didn't I _say_ so?" Floretta asked rudely; "and I told her to
tell her Aunt Matilda that she talked with _Miss_ Paxton, and she said
she would. She waited a long time for you to come home, because she said
she meant to stay to dinner with you. Say! She had on a calico dress!
Wouldn't she have looked gay?"
"It isn't very kind to laugh at any one's clothes," said Dorothy, "and
it's not very nice to laugh at other people's friends."
"Pooh!" cried Floretta, "I shall laugh at whoever I please," and she
turned and ran up to her room.
But she had laughed once too often! During the ride, Mrs. Fenton had
spoken of Floretta's rude ways, and of the day when, upon following
Nancy to the dining-room, she had caught the provoking child in the act
of mimicking her.
"Your little Nancy was grieved and distressed because she knew that I
saw it. What a difference there is in children! The Paxton child is
disgusting, while Nancy, who, I have heard, was a little waif, is as
gentle as Dorothy, who was born the little daughter of a fine, old
family."
Aunt Charlotte and Mrs. Dainty had told Mrs. Fenton something of Nancy's
life, and noticed how deeply interested she seemed to be.
Mrs. Paxton had realized that ever since the day that Floretta had told
of being caught mimicking Mrs. Fenton for the amusement of the
waitresses and maids, Mrs. Fenton had shunned them. She had made
desperate efforts to win Mrs. Fenton's friendship, but never very
successfully, as she found that her little daughter's silly act had
rendered any intimacy quite impossible.
A few days after the ride, Mrs. Fenton did not appear at lunch, or at
dinner, and when Mrs. Paxton, with elaborate interest, inquired for her,
she learned that the lady had left very early that morning, before any
guests were on the piazza to see her depart.
It certainly did seem odd that she should have left, without a word to
those whom she had known, but Mrs. Dainty, with her customary good
taste, made no comment, and Aunt Charlotte Grayson was equally silent.
Mrs. Paxton did just as one might have expected. She expressed, in a
very loud voice, her disgust at being thus pointedly slighted, for so
she chose to feel.
"After all my friendliness, I can't see how she could leave the
Cleverton without so much as a word to me. Why, I felt almost like a
relative, as my name was Fenton before I married!"
"I guess Mrs. Fenton didn't have what you might call a family feeling,"
said old Mr. Cunningham, which so angered Mrs. Paxton that she politely
turned her back.
Two letters arrived at the Cleverton that afternoon, and it would be
difficult to say which caused the greater surprise.
Mrs. Paxton told the contents of hers to all who would listen, and there
were enough who were curious, to make a good audience.
"TO MRS. CLARA FENTON PAXTON:" it began, refraining from any endearing
terms.
"I knew, before I met you, that you and your small daughter were related
to my husband, and also knew that he entertained no admiration for you.
He left his entire estate to me, and as you were but a distant relative,
you could expect no inheritance. However, with a determination to deal
fairly with all my kin (I have but three such), I came to the Cleverton
to see you and your little daughter, intending, if she proved
sweet-tempered and attractive, to will my property to her. She is the
only one of the three relatives who bears my husband's name.
"I do not wish to be harsh, but I am forced to admit that I find her to
be bold, naturally unkind, and wholly lacking in the grace and courtesy
which most children possess, either by training or inheritance.
"I, therefore, have made my will in favor of Nancy Ferris, once a little
waif, now a sweet, gentle, and attractive child, whose little acts of
courtesy and kindness are fully appreciated by
"Her friend,
"CECILIA CULLEN FENTON."
"A most singular woman, to leave her property to a waif, a child of the
theatre, and not bequeath so much as a penny to my Floretta, whom _any_
one could see is an aristocrat," said Mrs. Paxton.
"Mrs. Fenton, or anybody else, would need some rather strong glasses to
see _that_!" muttered Mr. Cunningham.
He was a testy old fellow, and he, like other guests of the hotel, had
become exceedingly tired of Mrs. Paxton and her unlovely child.
The other letter gave surprise and delight to the two who had shared in
the care and training of little Nancy.
"TO MRS. RUDOLPH DAINTY, AND TO MRS. CHARLOTTE GRAYSON,
"DEAR FRIENDS:--" was its greeting, and then followed the story of the
writer's visit to the Cleverton, and the statement that her few
relatives were too distant to have any valid claim to her estate.
"I was greatly displeased with the two of my kin whom I came to observe,
and I will not dwell upon that, but, instead, will take this time to say
that Dorothy Dainty and Nancy Ferris, are the two dearest children that
it has been my pleasure to know.
"Dorothy's life has been sunny, and Nancy's story, as you told it to me,
appealed to me, and I looked with even greater interest at the child
who, under your loving care, had blossomed like a lovely flower.
"Dorothy has her parents, and will inherit a fortune. Nancy has no
parents, and I know, will be kindly cared for by you, but that fact
will not deter me from making a bequest that gives me greatest pleasure.
"I shall leave all of my estate to Nancy Ferris, and I remind her, in
some little verses that I enclose, how deeply I have appreciated her
many little kindnesses.
TO NANCY
"Dear little girl, I know that you will daily
Do loving acts of kindness, and of cheer,
Thus urging life to sing its song more gaily
And making friendship lasting and more dear.
"I felt your charm, dear child, I saw how sweetly
You gave your kindness, with no thought of gain.
I give you a reward, and how completely
I joy in giving, words cannot explain."