A HINT OF SPRING
"WHAT do you think we've decided to do?" cried Bob, the instant he got
inside the Patty-Pans door.
"Break the umbrella stand," guessed Happie, springing forward to catch
it as it staggered under too violent impact with Bob's foot.
"Not a bit of it; that was the inspiration of the moment," he retorted.
"We decided on the way up to have a birthday party in the tea room--a
Washington's Birthday party. It's going to be great. We shall have it
in the afternoon so all the children can come to it, down to Penny. We
think it's more suitable to include the young ones, because it occurred
to me that George Washington was very young when he was born."
"Bob, you foolish boy, come back here and tell me about it!" Happie
called after her brother as he started down the hall.
"Can't stop, have to hunt for a clean collar in my bureau under
mother's bed, now Aunt Keren has my other bureau," Bob shouted back.
"Margery'll tell you."
It was Bob's delight to pretend to suffer from the invasion of Aunt
Keren, and never to be able to find anything that he wanted because he
had bundled his possessions into boxes and slid them under his mother's
bed--the latter part of the statement being true. However, Bob said
that he didn't mind "making his room a burnt offering. Aunt Keren had
done more than that for him," he added, "before she was fired." Aunt
Keren enjoyed Bob's fooling. The Scollards saw her shoulders shake
while she regarded the boy severely through her glasses. It was the
cheerful nonsense of the Patty-Pans crowd that was warding off nervous
prostration, Mrs. Scollard decided.
"Margery, what does he mean?" Happie demanded, turning to her sister.
"Perhaps you'd better tell me at dinner, though, for it's all ready,
and quite capable of burning itself up while I listen."
"Yes, let us get our hats and coats off," said Mrs. Scollard, who
had come home with what Happie called "the tea party," that night.
So Happie ran back to her little kitchen, deferring for a time the
satisfaction of her curiosity.
"Will you help me off with my coat, Auntie Keren? And ask mamma to let
me keep on my dancing slippers, they're so lovely," sighed Penny, who
never hesitated to make everybody within her orbit useful. Miss Keren
laughed as she complied with the first part of the request. Happie,
coming in with a steaming dishful of spaghetti, beautifully white
striping its groundwork of tomato sauce, thought that Aunt Keren did
not look cast-down by the call of the afternoon, nor saddened by her
confidence. She looked brighter and better. Aunt Keren was one of those
persons to whom arousing of any sort is beneficial.
"Now tell me about the party," Happie implored as they gathered around
the table.
"I'm afraid I have to confess to its being part of a plot," said
Margery. "I want to ask young people of all ages and sizes to a
Washington's Birthday party in the tea room--so much Bob told in his
first----"
"Inbursting outburst," Bob said for her, as she hesitated.
"Thanks, little Robin Redbreast," said Margery sweetly. "I thought
we'd play games, make candy--or you would, Happie,--on our gas stove
there, and have a genuine childish frolic. The feature of the afternoon
is to be cutting down the cherry tree. I want a little tree set up in
a box--not a real tree, but an artificial one--and everybody is to
be blindfolded and given a little hatchet. Then they are to be swung
around three times, and left to march up to the tree and cut it--or cut
at it--once. The hatchet must be left just where it strikes till the
person taking charge of the woodmen pins a numbered bit of cloth on
the spot. There are to be prizes for the cut nearest a certain mark on
the tree, and consolation prizes for the furthest from it--you see it
is just the old game of pinning the tail on the donkey, only made what
magazine editors call 'a timely article.' Do you suppose it will be
any fun?"
"Of course!" cried Happie. "Anything is fun when there are enough of
the right sort to play it. Whom would you ask?"
"Your E's," began Margery. "I don't know that I'll ask any of the
older girls, my friends, but still we might ask one or two. Anyone you
like----"
"Mr. Gaston? He's too old," said Happie hastily.
"Oh, as to too old, I thought we'd ask Auntie Cam to come down with
Edith, and Aunt Keren and mother are asked this moment," said Margery
blushing. "Mr. Gaston is fond of simple, jolly times. I suppose we'd
better ask him. But--oh, Happie, do pay attention, and don't tease! I
have a deep--not a dark, but a deep--plot in planning this party. I
want little Serena to come, and I want her to fancy Ralph and Snigs.
Now how can we manage that?"
"Ralph is so good to children, and all the little ones like him so much
that it would be easy enough, if he didn't know it was Serena. But I
don't think either of those boys would notice her much if they knew
who she was. They'd be afraid of being misunderstood," Happie replied
promptly.
"That's what I think," sighed Margery. "Well, all we can do is to try
to bring the cousins together. Serena is such a lovely little creature
that Ralph would lose his heart to her in a minute if he didn't keep
his hand on it, so to speak."
"Like a pocketbook in the Brooklyn bridge crush," suggested Bob. "Your
party's all right, Margery, my dear, but your reuniting families and
healing feuds isn't going to work."
"I suppose not," agreed Margery with another sigh, "but I'd like to set
the ball rolling. Maybe something would come of it later."
"I think I'll compose something for the party," murmured Laura.
"It's a praiseworthy attempt, at least, Margery," said Aunt Keren as
they arose from dinner. "Happie, just a moment, please."
Happie followed Miss Keren into the hall, wondering. "I didn't want to
speak of it before your mother, because she would strain every nerve to
do what I desired, or feel grieved if she could not do it," began Miss
Keren. "I am thinking of going up to Crestville for a little while. I
feel that there is strength for me up there in those mountains, in the
bright winter air. Do you think they could get on here, if I took you
with me?"
"You want me to answer, 'honest true, black and blue,' like the
children, Aunt Keren?" Happie asked. "Then I'm afraid I can't say yes.
Because if I were away it would take Gretta out of the tea room to look
after the Patty-Pans, and Margery could not get on alone down there."
"And Laura could not be depended upon?" suggested Miss Keren.
"Oh, Aunt Keren, you know Laura!" said Happie regretfully. "She is so
musically undependable! I'm afraid depending on Laura would be a good
deal like taking the sign of the treble clef and the sign of the bass
clef and putting them under one's arms for crutches hoping to walk with
them. I wish I could say that I thought they could spare me, for I'd
love to go--for the sake of both the Keren-happuchs!"
"Never mind the elder one, and the younger will have a long summer up
there," said Miss Keren. "I think that I shall go in a few days. Rosie
Gruber is quite able to look after me. Run along, child. Don't look
regretful. I shall be perfectly safe, and shall quite enjoy solitude up
there. You know I never had a chance to be in my country house alone,
while it was mine. Gretta is calling you."
Happie ran down the hall, and soon she and Gretta were whisking dish
cloth and dish towels, Happie doing her part in comparative silence
while the once reticent Gretta gave her the history of the day in the
tea room.
Margery did not appear. They caught a glimpse of her in another gown,
all soft pearl-gray and white, as she went singing into the parlor,
and they heard her moving chairs about and giving small touches of
added arrangement to the orderly room, which symptoms made Happie groan
forebodingly.
"Yes, there he is!" she exclaimed as the bell rang. "I don't see why he
calls here so often. You would suppose that he would think her family
might want Margery to themselves occasionally!"
"Oh, come, Happie! Mr. Gaston isn't here quite so often as that seems
to mean. We do have Margery to ourselves a good many nights," said
Gretta fairly. "I think he's very nice not to mind all of us. Up home
when a young man calls on a girl the family let her have the room--I
mean the parlor"--Gretta joined in Happie's laughter over this slip of
hers into the Crestville name for the one significant best room in the
farmhouses. "Well, up there if a girl has a friend he doesn't expect to
call on any one but her. Mr. Gaston sees almost as much of you and Bob
and Laura as he does of Margery. I think he's very nice not to mind,
and you ought not to grudge him his small fraction of her--for he likes
her very much, Miss Happie!"
"Of course he does. I'm not blind, and I'd shake him if he didn't,
though I want to pound him because he does!" said inconsistent Happie.
"Happie," called Margery, as Happie tried to slip into her own room
unheard, "do come here for a moment and let Mr. Gaston tell you
something delightful!"
"I wonder if he is going away!" thought Happie. She was a little bit
ashamed, later, to remember her ungraciousness. It was not pleasant to
feel one's mind going backward and forward like a shuttlecock between
the conviction that for the first time in her life she was unjust and
the pang that made justice impossible when she realized afresh that
this fine young Baltimorean would steal away her sister.
"Good-evening, Andromeda," said Robert Gaston, rising to greet her by
his nickname for her that recalled the dragon-office boy from whom he
had rescued her. "Faithful little Andromeda! Housekeeping and nursing
all alone these many days! I hope your patient is better?"
"Yes, thank you," said Happie. "She is going up to the Ark for a little
while. Margery, you didn't know Aunt Keren told me after dinner that
she meant to go up to Crestville in a few days to stay there, with
Rosie to look after her. She thinks she will gain strength, even though
it is winter."
"Oh, dear me!" shivered Margery. Then she added: "I'm sure it will
do her good. I wish we could all go for a few days. Think of those
mountains snowclad, and think of sleighing in that bracing air! Oh, I
wonder----You don't suppose we could have a party over Sunday in the
Ark while she is there? All of us--and Mr. Gaston--and close the tea
room for a day or two? Oh, if we could!"
"It would be good fun," admitted Happie. "Aunt Keren will never think
of it, and we couldn't suggest it. I shall be able to help down there
again, if Aunt Keren goes to the country."
"Ah, but you haven't heard my plan for a little jollification!"
said Robert. "Andromeda, will you countenance a theatre party? I
want to ask Mrs. Charleford and Edith, your mother, her two elder
daughters, Bob, the elder of the Gordon boys, and--who else? Oh,
Robert Gaston,--to see the Midsummer Night's Dream. I want to take
two boxes, and get Mrs. Charleford and Mrs. Scollard each to chaperon
one half our party, and have as good a time as we can. Why, let me
see--Mrs. Charleford, Edith, two; your mother, you two girls, three;
Bob, Ralph, and myself--eight. Why, we can easily take Laura and
Snigs Gordon. Dear me, I forgot Gretta, though she is one of my first
thoughts, because in the matter of play-going age counts before musical
talent, so Gretta has prior claim over Laura. But even with her we
can ask Laura and Snigs, for that is only eleven altogether, and we
boys can stand up at the back. I want the two lower boxes on the left,
if I can get them--but you haven't said whether or not you approve,"
Robert interrupted himself, amusedly watching the rapture in Happie's
dimpling, tell-tale face which needed no speech to reveal her mind.
"It's a perfectly blissful plan!" she cried. "I never sat in a box in
my life, and I always wanted to dreadfully. And I've been crazy to see
the Midsummer Night's Dream; I know lots of it by heart. I love that
play and the Tempest so very much. And we haven't had time--because
of the tea room and all, to take Gretta about as I meant to. It is a
beautiful plan. I'm ever and ever so grateful for my part of it. You
really are very kind, Mr. Gaston."
Robert Gaston smiled, well pleased. Not being in the least dull he
had read plainly Happie's mental attitude towards him, and he was
sincerely sorry for her, thinking that he should not have liked an
interloper to come to steal Margery away had he been Happie, and fully
compassionating her foreboding pangs--which showed that Margery was not
wrong in believing him fine and tender beyond the ordinary.
"It is not kind to be good to oneself, Miss Andromeda-Happie," he said.
"Will you ask your mother about it? Or ask her to let me ask her?"
"Yes, I'll tell her that you want to see her," said Happie, slipping
away. Gretta's suggestion that Robert Gaston might want to read and
talk to Margery alone oppressed her, in spite of her pleasure in the
box party.
When Robert Gaston left the Patty-Pans that night he left "three
perfected plans promising pleasure," Bob said as he shook hands. The
tea room party for Washington's birthday was decided upon. This came
first, as the holiday fell in the ensuing week. Then the party for the
Midsummer Night's Dream early in the following week! Robert confessed
that his own birthday followed Washington's in four days, and that
he should like to keep it by having his party on the 26th, which was
Tuesday, if he could. As far as the Scollards were concerned there was
no objection to any date, unless it were to be a distant one, for which
Laura would have been wholly unable to survive her impatience, and
Happie was not less eager.
The third party was the crowning joy of that planful evening. Whether
Aunt Keren had heard what Margery had said about the house party in the
Ark there was no way of knowing--in Patty-Pans anything is more likely
to be heard than not--but she came into the little parlor in her odd
abrupt way just as Robert Gaston arose to go, saying: "Good-evening,
Mr. Gaston. Sit down again and help me conspire."
"Certainly, with pleasure," said Robert amiably. "Against whom? I am
ready to help you with bomb, plain dynamite, deadly potion, or powder
and shot. Whomever you want removed, whatever your conspiracy may be,
I'm your man, Miss Bradbury."
"Nice boy! I dislike hesitation above most things," said Miss Bradbury
approvingly. "A ready ruffian is such a comfort! I want the entire
Scollard family removed, also Gretta and the Gordon boys, and you, too.
I have selected steam as the instrument."
"Appropriate to flat-dwellers, who are so accustomed to the pounding
steam in the radiators that it must have lost much of its terrors,"
Robert replied. "Please command me, Miss Bradbury, and elucidate."
"I am going up to Crestville to recuperate--also to sleigh ride--this
week. Saturday I have decided to go. That will give Rosie a chance to
clean the house from top to bottom. It would be downright cruelty
to deprive Rosie of an excuse to clean. I shall stay till I am tired
of solitude and feel stronger. By that time my friends here will be
ready to welcome me again. I'm afraid Happie will get tired of me, if
I don't run away, and it would be like losing our hyphen to have one
of the Keren-happuchs weary of the other! Now, I want a party while I
am there. I have talked to the owner of the Ark, Miss Gretta, and she
is rather more than willing to let me have my way. The tea room is to
be closed from Thursday night until Tuesday morning. I am sure it will
not bankrupt the six maidens, nor divert the business. You are all
to go up to Crestville on the eight o'clock train on Friday morning,
March first, and you are to come down again on Monday afternoon, on
the 1:47. We are to sleigh, skate, build wood fires on our hearth,
sing, tell stories, crack nuts, and be generally jolly. We are going
to see whether or not Gretta is right when she says her country is
more beautiful in winter than in summer. And we are going to offer
libations to Jack Frost to send us crackling cold weather, without much
wind--even Gretta admits the wind up there is formidable--and with
plenty of snow. Contrary minded?"
Miss Keren paused for an expression of opinion as to her proposal, and
it came without a sign of there being a contrary-minded mind among her
hearers.
Margery's face lighted up with delight, although she already looked as
happy as a girl can be. "Auntie Keren! You veritable fairy godmother!
Just what I was saying a while ago that I wished we might do!" she
cried.
Miss Keren checked a tiny smile, and Happie looked at her suspiciously.
She was quicker than Margery to catch clues, and she remembered the
excellent acoustics of their little connected rooms.
"Sometimes I wonder if fairies aren't just particularly quick people?"
she said suggestively. "There's no fear of any one here voting against
your proposal, Auntie Keren, dear."
"No, indeed, Miss Keren! I never had such a birthday present. I can't
say how glad I am to get this invitation," cried Robert, with such
evident sincerity that Margery's bright color deepened. "You'll show me
your brook, and Don Dolor, and your Rosie and Mahlon, your mountains,
your little all-sorts store, everything, won't you, Miss Margery?"
"How much she has told him and how well he remembers!" thought Happie,
as Margery nodded smilingly. "There's a Valley of Eden up there, not
too far to go to. Shall I show you that also?" she asked.
Robert had once more arisen to go. He stood looking down at pretty
Margery smiling up at him. "You do that in spite of yourself," he said.
"Auntie Keren, you really are a duck!" said Happie, putting her arm
around the elder Keren-happuch's tall, thin figure and conducting her
down the hall. "Let me take you safely to your room, Fairy Godmother.
You are much too valuable a fairy godmother to go down this long
passage alone."
"I am not going to my room, Happie," said Miss Keren as Happie paused
at what had been Bob's door. "I want to talk with your mother in the
dining-room a half hour. She is giving Laura mathematics, or trying
to. Mathematics and the artistic temperament seem to have no affinity.
It is wonderful that child can count time! You run back to Margery and
Gretta, I don't want you."
"Frankness, Miss Keren-happuch, is admirable, but horrible. I suppose
I can't be offended with a fairy godmother, though! Only think of
going to bed with three, a whole three, good times to dream over! How
deliriously happy we are going to be!" Happie recklessly squeezed Miss
Keren as she pulled away her arm and faced right about on her summary
dismissal. Her last vestige of awe of Miss Keren had vanished. She
realized the squeeze herself only when she had almost reached her own
door. "It's the fourteenth of February--why, so it is!" Happie thought,
stopping short at the discovery. "We've been getting valentines. Winter
must be breaking up, for there's not a trace of ice between Aunt Keren
and me now."