DIVIDED WAYS
"Yes, I just forgot all about it, for of course I wasn't going to let the
boys run me to death, and oh, mother, Apache can get over the ground! I
never saw anything like the way he ran."
"No, neither have _I_," replied Mrs. Ashby significantly.
"You!" asked Beverly in surprise.
Mrs. Ashby nodded though her lips twitched.
Beverly's face clouded and her lips set.
"How did you see me?" she demanded.
"From the window of the north-east dormer chamber."
The girl's dark eyes grew darker and signs of a pending tempest lowered
as she asked:
"Mother did you go up there to spy upon me? You almost _never_ go into
that room. Didn't you believe me? Did you think I had to be watched? I
think that was horrid, horrid of you. You know I didn't mean to break my
word. I just forgot when the boys teased me about my calico plug and
_you_ wouldn't have stood for that if you'd been in my place. You just
know you wouldn't. You used to do crazier things when you were a girl for
Uncle Athol has told me just dozens and dozens of them. Why did you spy
upon me? Why? Why? I loathe being distrusted."
The storm had burst with a vengeance.
"Beverly hush and listen to me. If you will pause a moment you will know
perfectly well that I had no idea of 'spying' upon you. Have I ever done
so? You know better. It seems to me you are displaying some doubt also.
If I did not know it to be the outcome of your excitement I should
decline to make any explanation. As it is I'll tell you that I went up
there to get out your winter things in order to have them remodeled. By
chance I looked out of the window--it is a view rather worth looking
upon, you'll admit--and, well I saw a moving picture instead of the usual
quiet landscape and it was 'going some' as Athol would say." Mrs. Ashby
smiled involuntarily as she recalled the spirited action of that moving
picture.
"Yes wasn't it?" cried Beverly eagerly. "And, oh that little Apache is
some horse, mumsey."
Then her face resumed its defiant expression and she continued: "But I
showed them that they couldn't put it all over me and not pay for it.
They got the try-out of their lives and _I_ got two pounds of _decent_
candy if I did get some mud into the bargain. I'd have come home to tell
you anyway; you _know_ I would don't you?"
"Have I intimated a doubt of it, dear?" The tone was very disarming, and
warm-hearted, quick tempered just-souled little Beverly succumbed.
Throwing her arms about her mother's neck she buried her head upon her
shoulder as she sobbed.
"Oh, do forgive me. I was the horrid one for doubting you and saying such
nasty things. Please give me bally hack and send me away to school quick.
Then maybe I'll learn to think twice before I sass once, as Mammy Riah
says. I reckon what I need is a good strict schoolmarm to boss me
'round."
"I hope the 'bossing' element will be absent from the school we shall
choose. I doubt it would work very well with you, Beverly. Sparks and
gunpowder are apt to lead to pretty serious explosions and I dislike
pyrotechnics which are likely to spread disaster. Now go change your
clothes and make yourself presentable for I hear Uncle Athol calling and
I dare say the momentous question is about to be answered. But what am I
going to do without my little whirlwind to keep things stirring?" ended
Mrs. Ashby, tenderly drawing the penitent into her arms.
"And oh, mumsey, mumsey where shall I ever find any one who will be as
patient with the whirlwind? I suspect I'm going to be desperately
homesick more days than once. But I'll truly, truly try not to disgrace
you and Woodbine. Yes, we're coming Uncle Athol," as the Admiral's
stentorian tones came booming up the broad stairway.
"Mary Beverly, come along quick and hear these letters. Lord save us, I'd
rather run a blockade than choose a school for a couple of youngsters.
I'll be gray, dead and buried before it's done! Come down I say."
"We are coming Uncle," called Mrs. Ashby, laughing softly as she pictured
the gray-haired old Admiral striding up and down the wide hall
anathematizing all the schools in creation and launching side shots at
the boys because they were laughing at him. His roar was far worse than
his attack as the lads well knew, as sitting--no, sprawling--upon the big
claw-foot sofa they did not hesitate to let fly a projectile or two in
return, only to howl at the result, for well both knew his weakness for
his grandniece. "She could wind him around her little finger," they said.
A moment later Mrs. Ashby appeared at the top of the landing to be
greeted by:
"Come and hear these letters. Where's Beverly?"
"She will be down as soon as she changes her riding skirt."
The boys snickered.
Turning upon them the Admiral demanded:
"What are you young scamps chortling about?"
"Bev," answered his nephew. "Did you see her when she came in?"
"Now what was the matter with her? She's usually all right."
"Oh, nothing. Just a trifle muddy. Mother can describe her appearance
better than we can I reckon," laughed Athol, Jr.
The Admiral bent his keen eyes upon the boys. He was a handsome old
gentleman and wonderfully well-preserved for his seventy-three years.
"And I'll lay a wager you fellows started the ball rolling and Beverly
had to brace up and stop it," he nodded.
"We didn't! Honest, Uncle Athol, we didn't! Did we Arch?"
"Ask Bev. Here she comes," laughed Archie pointing toward the stairs down
which a demure, spick and span, duck-clothed young lady was making her
way with all the propriety of a young boarding-house-miss-in-the-making.
Instantly Athol had sprung to his feet and was mincing along behind the
Admiral in such perfect mimicry of his sister that Archie hooted. Beverly
scorned to notice the by-play and asked:
"Do you want me Uncle Athol?"
"Yes, come along into my study for this er-er--well perplexing question
is going to be settled right here and now."
Realizing that the settling meant a separation for a shorter or longer
time, and for a greater or less distance, however determined, the boys
sobered down and followed the others into the study.
There is no use going into details. The letters were duly read and
discussed and it was decided that early the next morning Admiral Seldon
and Mrs. Ashby should visit two of the schools, those nearest Sprucy
Branch being selected.
"And please, Uncle Athol, choose Leslie Manor. It's so near Kilton Hall
that the boys can ride over to see me and I can go to see them," begged
Beverly, clasping her hands about her great-uncle's arm and looking up
into his face in a manner to coax the birds off the bushes.
He drew her into his circling arm and turning her face up to his asked,
as he kissed the soft lips.
"And how in kingdom come do you suppose _I'm_ going to get on without
your coming to see me often, you torment of my soul. And how do you
expect the boys to cover those ten miles between Leslie Manor and Kilton
Hall, much less you? And a pretty stir-up it would make if you were to go
to their school, wouldn't it, you huzzy."
"Why, I'm Athol's sister, and almost Archie's too. Why couldn't I go?
We'll have our horses, of course."
"Lord bless my soul, are you counting on moving the whole of Woodbine up
yonder?" asked the Admiral in dismay.
"Why no, Uncle Athol, but of course we must take Snowdrift, Royal and
Apache," answered Beverly as a matter of course. Whereupon Archie and
Athol, standing just behind the Admiral, and Beverly fell upon each
other's necks. Such an idea as taking their horses with them had never
for a moment entered the boy's heads.
"Well, we'll see; We'll see," temporized the old gentleman, "No" seeming
to have been left out of the vocabulary he employed in speaking to
Beverly.
An hour was spent in discussing the subject pro and con and at its end
Admiral Seldon cried:
"Quit running on dead reckoning and tell Mammy Riah to pack our grips, for
your mother and I are off on the eight-thirty from Sprucy Branch and that
means stepping lively tomorrow morning, Mary. And I want Uncle Abel to
understand that the carriage is to be at the door at seven-thirty,--_not
nine-thirty_."
And so the die was cast. At seven-thirty the following morning the
carriage accompanied by the three most interested in what the verdict
would be upon its return, sped down the broad driveway, the leaves which
had fallen during the night crinkling beneath the wheels, the carriage
horses cutting all sorts of antics in sympathy with their saddle
companions cavorting beside them, for the young people were acting as
body guard.
It was not at all likely that the older people would return that night,
for train service was limited, so all preparations were made for an
overnight trip.
Bidding them good-by at the railway station Beverly, Athol and Archie
rode back to Woodbine, in no mood for one of their wild stampedes. The
real parting was too close at hand.
That day and evening seemed the longest to Beverly that she had ever
known. Archie was to spend the night at Woodbine, and Aunt Caroline,
Mammy Riah and Earl Queen, the butler, did their best to make up for the
absence of the heads of the house, but it surely was a sober little group
which sat down at the brightly polished mahogany dining table. Beverly in
her mother's seat, Athol in his uncle's and Archie as guest. Aunt
Caroline had sent up her daintiest preserves and had prepared a supper
"fitten' for a queen," she averred. Her fried chicken would have put
Delmonico's to shame and her hot waffles were "lak ter fly up offen de
dish I serve 'em on," was Queen's affirmation as he took them from her,
but nothing was eaten with its usual relish.
At ten the next morning came a long distance phone call from Admiral
Seldon.
Beverly reached the phone first.
"And it's all settled? Which one? Leslie Manor? Good! And Ath's going to
Kilton Hall? Oh, splendid! You'll be down on the three o'clock train?
Meet you? Of course. Yes, I'll tell the boys. Mother sends love? Give her
ours and tell her we are all right and have been as good as gold.
Good-by!" and the phone was hung up with a snap as Beverly spun round and
catching the one nearest at hand who happened to be Archie, turkey
trotted him the length of the big hall before she'd end their curiosity.
And thus came the selection of the two schools. Athol with Archie at
Kilton Hall, and Beverly at Leslie Manor, ten miles away, and near one of
the most wonderful and beautiful caprices of that capricious lady Dame
Nature, that human eye is ever likely to rest upon.
They were to leave Woodbine and Uplands on the last day of September, as
the school term began October first, the intervening days being full of
the excitement incident to their departure.
The thirtieth of September came at once too rapidly and too slowly, and
dawned crisp and clear; a good omen for the start.
Good-bys were said to the servants, Mrs. Ashby was embraced tempestuously
by Beverly and given a bear hug by Athol, Archie shook hands and all
three followed Admiral Seldon in to the waiting carriage, to wave
good-bys to Mrs. Ashby who stood upon the south portico, and to all the
servants gathered in the south colonnade.
Then Mrs. Ashby re-entered the silent house, went upstairs to Beverly's
deserted room, dropped into a chair beside her bed and burying her head
in the tumbled pillow wept like a girl.
A moment later Mammy Riah entered the room, caught sight of the weeper,
grabbed up an old muddy shoe of Beverly's and raining tears into it
forthwith raised a genuine darkey wail of woe which very nearly turned
Mrs. Ashby's tears into hysterics.