MERCEDES ARRIVES
The next day saw Noahdiah with a stage full of passengers and such a
pile of luggage as he declared he “didn’t know as he’d ever be able to
h’ist on.” However the boys helped with strong arms as well as with
suggestions and finally the whole twelve persons were safely stowed
away with their trunks roped on at the back, piled on top or serving as
seats. The Corners left the train at Sebago that they might make the
promised visit to Cousin Maria, while the others went on to Boston, the
Gordon boys to continue their journey to Virginia, Hartley and Effie,
with Daniella, to return to their home, while Jo turned off to go to
her aunt’s where she would stay till she should be ready to start for
college.
The Corners felt that they must hurry for there were the bridesmaid
dresses to be made and the wedding presents to be bought for Miss
Dolores, so they did not tarry anywhere till New York was reached. “I
can scarcely wait to see Miss Dolores,” said Mary Lee when they had
reached their hotel. “I’m going to call her up first thing.”
“Do wait till you have washed your face,” replied Nan. “It is all over
cinders; you would have the car window open.”
“Oh, I had to; the cars were so hot and stuffy after living in the open
air all these weeks.”
“But you don’t have to call her up the instant you get in.”
Mary Lee concluded she could take time to remove the cinders, but she
did not delay long after that, and when she returned from the telephone
she was as excited as it was in the power of Mary Lee to be. “What do
you think, Nan?” she exclaimed. “Mercedes is coming to-morrow and Miss
Dolores wants us to come up to dinner, stay all night and go with them
first thing in the morning to meet the steamer. They think it will be
in by half-past eight or nine, so we shall have to make an early start.
Won’t it be fun?”
“It will be fine,” Nan responded heartily. “Does she want all of us to
come?”
“Oh, no, only our two selves who know Mercedes. I’ll go ask mother,
then I’m to telephone Miss Dolores. She is so glad we reached here in
time.” She went off, presently returning to say that Mrs. Corner had no
objection to the arrangement. “Please hurry, Nan, while I go to the
telephone,” said Mary Lee.
“But why hurry? The steamer isn’t coming in to-night.” Nan liked to
tease Mary Lee. “There is plenty of time before dinner.”
“Oh, but, Nan, don’t you want to see Miss Dolores and her trousseau,
and Mr. St. Nick?”
Nan laughed. “First best, Miss Dolores, second best, her clothes, third
best, dear old Mr. St. Nick. I think I put him first, myself, and of
course I am dying to see the trousseau.”
“And not Miss Dolores? You’re very peculiar, I must say.” Mary Lee was
up in arms.
“Of course I want to see her. You must be stupid to think I don’t,
but Mr. St. Nick is a little bit dearer and the clothes are more of a
novelty, so there you are.”
Mary Lee walked off with her nose in the air. “Very well,” she remarked
as she went out, “I shall go the minute I am ready, and if you prefer
to come later, I shall not object.”
Nan laughed provokingly, but went on with brisk preparations as soon as
the door closed after Mary Lee. She wanted to go early quite as much
as her sister, but Mary Lee was always such a precise and unhurried
person it was but seldom that one had a chance to tease her and the
opportunity was too good to lose. She made such haste and Mary Lee was
so long at the telephone that when she came back Nan was all ready.
“Oh,” exclaimed the latter, “I was just about to go. I thought perhaps
you had changed your mind. Suppose I start on since you’ll not be
dressed for at least half an hour.”
“Nan Corner, if you go without me I’ll never forgive you. I think you
are just horrid.”
“But you were going without me all right, all right.”
“That’s quite another thing.”
“Can’t seem to see it, but rather than ruffle your feathers any more
I’ll go to mother and Aunt Helen and you can stop by for me when you’ve
done prinking.”
So saying she left Mary Lee to herself and it is needless to say that
if it were within Mary Lee to hurry she did it on this occasion. In
consequence in considerably less than half an hour the two were leaving
the hotel for Mr. Pinckney’s home. They had been in New York often
enough to know the way fairly well.
Mr. Pinckney was watching at the window for them and came bustling out
in his hearty way, crying, “Here you are! Bless your hearts, I am glad
to see you. Come right in. Well, well, isn’t this great? We must have
you right here with us till after the wedding. Where are you staying?
I’ll telephone them to send up your baggage. Where is Dolores? Fisher,
tell Miss Dolores the young ladies have come.”
Then in a moment Miss Dolores came running down-stairs to be hugged and
kissed and to tell them all her news.
Having decided that the two girls were to remain in the house till
after the wedding Mr. Pinckney could not rest till he had the matter
settled. He would fain have had the other two, but Mrs. Corner
compromised by promising they should come on the wedding day to remain
till Miss Dolores returned from her bridal trip, Jack herself telling
him that he would need them more then and that it should be her
business to see that he was not lonely.
The old gentleman was in high good humor after this. He confessed to
Nan in confidence that no one knew how he had dreaded the two weeks
during which his granddaughter should be away. “But it is all right
now,” he said. “I shan’t mind it, not at all.”
“You’d better not,” Nan threatened. “If we four Corners aren’t enough
for you I must say you are hard to please.”
“Conceited little minx,” said Mr. Pinckney, but he rubbed his hands and
chuckled every time he looked at the two.
There was a delightful hour after dinner when Mr. Pinckney was smoking
his cigar and Miss Dolores took them up-stairs to see her wedding
finery; the dainty morning frocks, the more elaborate gowns for evening
wear, and finally the white satin wedding gown which Mr. Pinckney had
insisted upon, though it was to be but a simple ceremony performed at
home.
“Mercedes is bringing my wedding veil,” Miss Dolores told the girls,
“Spanish lace that Cousin Teresa is sending. The dear child has been
longing so to come and I am so glad they consented to it. We shall keep
her for a good long visit, I hope. She can speak some English now and
it will be an excellent opportunity for her to improve herself in the
language.”
“Is she coming all alone?” asked Mary Lee.
“No, she comes with some friends of the family who sailed from Havre.
Other friends took her as far as Paris where the Dos Santos met her. I
hope the child has not been very sick on the journey. The steamer was
expected this evening, but is a little late. However, there is not
much doubt but that she will dock in the morning.”
“I am almost glad she didn’t come before,” said Nan, “for we might not
have reached here in time, and it is stringing along the excitements
more gradually to have her come in the morning.”
“Oh, me, but it is exciting,” said Mary Lee giving Miss Dolores a
squeeze. “We stopped to see about the bridesmaid frocks before we
even went to the hotel and they are promised faithfully by Wednesday
evening, so we shall surely have them for Thursday.”
“I had Mercedes send her measurements and I think hers will not need to
be altered. Would you like to see it?” Wouldn’t they? And the pretty
girlish gown of white silk mull was displayed. Mercedes was to be maid
of honor and the four Corners the bridesmaids. Nan and Mary Lee were to
wear soft buff; the twins were to be dressed in delicate green.
“And you are going to have chrysanthemums, of course, for decorations,”
said Mary Lee. “What flowers do we carry?”
“Roses to remind us of Italy, where we were so happy when the roses
were climbing everywhere. I shall carry white ones, you and Nan those
deep saffron-colored ones shading to pink, and the twins will have
pink. Mercedes will have creamy colored ones,” Miss Dolores told them.
“Lovely,” declared the girls.
“And Mr. St. Nick is quite satisfied to have you married,” said Mary
Lee.
“Yes, I am sure he is. Once he made up his mind to accept the fact he
has been goodness itself, and I really think he would be disappointed
now if we were to put it off. He told me a few days ago that if he were
called from this world he should feel very content that he had left me
in the keeping of a good man, and that it was a great comfort to him.”
Then Mr. Kirk was announced and the girls went down to greet him and
then to entertain Mr. St. Nick in the library, leaving the lovers to
themselves.
They were all up betimes the next morning and were down on the dock to
see the great steamer come slowly up the harbor. Mercedes caught sight
of the little group, and then Mary Lee distinguished her, and they
began signaling and waving handkerchiefs until down the gangplank came
the little Spanish girl to throw herself into the arms of her friends,
half laughing, half crying in her excitement.
The affair of luggage did not detain them long and soon they were
whirling through the streets in the carriage, Mercedes exclaiming
first in broken English, then in Spanish. “How is wondherful the large
high build,” she said. “Ah, mucha gente! mucha gente! Is very many
person, yes?”
“Did you have a good voyage?” Nan asked her.
“Ah, but yes, I think good. I am at a time a sickness not to go the
table, but I am soon recover. How I have the pleasure of see you.” She
laid a hand affectionately on an arm of each girl friend. “When my
mother say me, Mercedes I permit the to go, I am make a scream of joy.
I spik Eenglis, yes?”
“Oh, you have learned much,” Mary Lee told her.
“We have this year an Eenglis mees who is tich us. My sisther and I
have progress, she say. I say my sisther when I am return I spik more
better as before and I tich her.”
“You will learn very fast here, for you will hear only English, and it
is the best way to be among those who speak a language if one would
learn,” Nan told her.
“Ah, yes, but is very diffikewlt ondtherstandth what is say. I wish you
spik me very slow. When is rapide I cannot.”
“We will try to speak very slowly, for we know how hard it is to
understand a strange language unless it is spoken slowly,” said Nan.
“I hope you will like New York.”
“How large and fine is. Paris is also fine. I like Paris much, as also
I will like much New York to see how gay. A marriage it will be gay
also. My cousin, I bring the lace for you to wear.”
“And there is such a pretty frock waiting for you,” Mary Lee told her.
“Your mother is well and all our friends?”
“All well. And those of you?”
“Are well. You will see them to-day. My sisters are very eager to meet
you, Mercedes.”
“I am pleasing meet them.”
“And how is the little asinello, Neddy?” Mary Lee asked.
“Very fine, very good, very well. Oh, I have much to say you, to
inquire also.”
The saying and questioning was carried on at a chattering rate from
this time out. Mercedes was no sooner established in the room next
that occupied by Nan and Mary Lee than she must see her bridesmaid
frock; next, her cousin’s pretty wedding clothes. Mr. Pinckney never
did anything by halves and once he had accepted the fact of his
granddaughter’s marriage there was nothing too much for him to do for
her, and he had himself carried her off on various shopping expeditions
when he would order gowns, wraps, hats to his taste and without
listening to her protests. Moreover he had taken the greatest interest
in having a suite of rooms decorated and refurnished for her, making
them truly beautiful with fine rugs, choice pictures, artistic hangings
and upholstery.
“We call it the bride’s bower,” Mary Lee told Mercedes as they led her
to the apartments. “We think they are the very prettiest rooms in the
house.”
Mercedes had never seen such elegance, though the charm of the old and
picturesque made her own home delightful. Still, there only simple
furnishings were in order and it seemed to her young eyes a bare place
in contrast to all this luxury, but she said nothing about this, being
a proud young person who voiced a judicious, rather than extravagant,
admiration.
Mr. Pinckney would fain have whirled them all off to a play or the
opera that first evening, but Miss Dolores reminded him that Mercedes
was probably tired and that the excitement of arriving in a new country
was in itself exhausting, so he gave up graciously and contented
himself with ordering large boxes of candy for each girl, with flowers
at their places at dinner.
The remainder of the Corner family arrived in time for luncheon the
next day and then there was a great bustle and much chatter with five
girls in the house. Wedding presents were arriving every day, and to
Mary Lee was given the extreme privilege of opening them, announcing
the giver and making a proper list. In this she had an occupation dear
to her heart.
The wedding was to be a small affair, only a few friends and relatives
being invited. Mr. Pinckney’s daughter and her husband would arrive
from California a few days beforehand. One or two cousins, the next
nearest relatives, would also be there, and Mr. Kirk’s family, his
brother who was to be best man, and his mother. Charlotte Loring and Jo
Keyes were also down on the list, but the whole number did not exceed
twenty-five.
Of course there was much speculation about the best man and the various
“in-laws” but there was so much to occupy every minute of the time
remaining before the great day, that there was little opportunity
for any outside matters. Jack and Jean did find a chance to go to
see little Christine Klein, a protégée of theirs and the Pinckneys’.
They found the child in the same comfortable apartment where she and
her grandfather had been established two or three years before. Her
lameness was now scarcely perceptible while good food and comfort had
changed the wan little invalid into a much sturdier child. She was
going to school and learning rapidly. Her German accent had nearly
disappeared and altogether there was a great change in Christine.
It was a wonderful time for Mercedes, who was not allowed to get
homesick, and whose struggles with English were constant. She daily
came to one of her friends with some problem. “You say me, ‘sit up,’
you say me, ‘sit down’ and it is the same,” she said one day to Mary
Lee.
Mary Lee laughed. “They don’t mean the same exactly, for when you
sit down you don’t always sit up, though when you sit up you must be
sitting down.”
Mercedes lifted her hands with an expressive gesture. “How it is
diffikewlt. I no ondtherstandth.”
“I will show you.” Mary Lee took a hunched-up position on a chair,
letting her shoulders drop forward. “Now I am sitting down but I am not
sitting up. This is sitting up.” She took an erect attitude.
“I see, I see,” cried Mercedes. “That is goodth. What says the
conductor when he wish me hurry? I do not know the bordth. I cannot
find in the dictionario.”
“What do you think he says? What does it sound like?” asked Mary Lee.
“I think he say ‘ullabore,’ but I cannot find the bordth.”
“You mustn’t say bordth, Mercedes; it is word.” This was one of the
most difficult things for her to pronounce. “The conductor says, ‘All
aboard,’ but he speaks very rapidly.”
“And what does he mean by this allabor? I cannot ondtherstandth.”
“He means that every one must hurry to get on the car. You have the
word abordo.”
“Ah, now I know. I say you many questions.”
“You _ask_ me many questions.”
“Ah, mio!” sighed Mercedes. “Never shall I learn.”
“Oh, but you are doing beautifully. You can understand us much better
than you could at first and you learn some new words every day.”
“When you no speak fast I can tell, but many thing make a puzzling when
I wish speak.”
“What else?”
“I like know what is fowl.”
“Oh, it is different kinds of birds that are eaten, like chickens and
turkeys.”
“And poultry?”
“Let me see. I don’t know that there is any difference, yet there must
be. Oh, yes, we hear of fowls of the air so I suppose any kind of bird
may be a fowl while poultry are the kinds we raise to eat. Let us get
the dictionaries and see.” Each brought her dictionary and turned over
the pages. “Here we have it,” Mary Lee announced, “a fowl is an _ave_,
and poultry means _aves caseras_, house fowls. I am glad we hunted that
up for now I know two more Spanish words, myself.”
“What are you two doing?” asked Nan, coming in upon them.
“Improving our minds,” replied Mary Lee.
“As if there were time for that; you’d better be like the busy bee and
improve the shining hour. Mr. Pinckney is prancing about like a lunatic
because there is no one to go with him to meet the Roberts. He has just
had a telegram. I have simply got to keep an engagement with Charlotte
to see about my room or I may miss getting it. Miss Dolores is in the
hands of the dressmaker, and so it goes.”
“Oh, I’d love to go with him,” Mary Lee hastened to say. “Are you ready
to start right away, Nan? Just stop on your way out and tell him I will
be down in two seconds. Come on, Mercedes. We can ride down with him
and if there isn’t room coming back we can take a car or a hansom or
something.”
So they rushed off and Nan proceeded on her errand. It was the first
moment she had had alone since her arrival in New York and it was
fortunate, she told herself, that it was so. The past summer was like a
dream, now that the rush of the present was upon her. Jo and Charlotte
were both in town, the former already hard at the tutoring which she
had secured, and the latter on hand for the wedding. She was the niece
of Mr. Pinckney’s son-in-law, and therefore was considered a relative.
Naturally the wedding was the all-absorbing topic with all the girls,
though college came a close second. Nan would be at the Pinckneys’
for a couple of weeks, and take her time about settling in her new
quarters. She had decided upon a room to herself and it was about this
she was now about to consult Charlotte. As she turned up Morningside
drive an automobile whizzed past, but not before she caught a glimpse
of Marcus Wells and Miss Romaine. It was all like a flash, and for a
moment the old feelings were strong within her. Here they were in the
same city. By a simple word she could see him. She had only to send her
card and he would call. How strange it was that she might not even do
that after their days of comradeship at camp. She had already written
from Maine a short note of thanks for his mementoes, but she gave no
address, and her note was of the most formally polite character. She
had shown it to her mother who had approved of what she wrote. She
might run across him here in New York almost any time and for a moment
she regretted her choice of a college, but it was only for a moment for
she realized that her life would be very full. Already the dreams were
bereft of their vividness. With a little wistful smile she pursued her
way and was soon lost in the reality of her present plans as she and
her friends discussed college and its many interests.
[Illustration: CHAPTER XX
THE WEDDING]