IN SHADY WOODS
Blanch Nason, Frank's younger sister, was his good friend and
sympathizer, and in all the family discussions had usually taken his
part. His elder sister, Edith, was like her mother, rather arrogant and
supercilious, and considered her brother as lacking in family pride, and
liable to disgrace them by some unfortunate alliance. It was to Blanch
he always turned when he needed sympathy and help, and to her at
Bethlehem he appeared the day after he had left the "Gypsy." His coming
surprised her not a little.
"Why, what has brought you here, Frank?" she asked. "I thought you were
having high jinks down in Maine on the yacht, and playing cards every
night with your cronies!"
"Oh, that is played out," he answered. "The boys are at Bar Harbor,
having a good time. Bert is at a little unheard-of place saying sweet
things to a pretty girl he found there, and I got lonesome, so I came
up here to see you and get you to help me," he added slyly.
"I thought so," answered Blanch, laughing; "you never did come to me
unless you wanted help. Well, who is the girl now, and what do you
want?"
Frank looked surprised.
"How do you know it is a girl?" he asked.
"It usually is with you," she answered, eyeing him curiously. "So out
with it. What's her name?"
"Alice Page," he replied.
"What, the girl you wanted us to invite to go on the yacht?" asked
Blanch.
"That's the one," he replied, "and, as you know, she wouldn't come."
"Which shows her good sense," interrupted Blanch. "Well, what can I do
in the matter?"
"Much, if you want to, and nothing, if you don't," he answered. "The
fact is, sis, I want you to pack a trunk, and go with me to call on her.
She is mighty proud, and I imagine that is why she turned the cold
shoulder on my efforts to get her to come to Boston and meet you all.
Now, if you go there, if only for one night, the ice will be broken, and
of course you will invite her to visit you, and all will go well."
"A nice little scheme," responded Blanch, "but what will mamma and Ede
say, do you think?"
"Oh, never mind them," answered the plotter; "they need never know it.
Just tell them you are going to Saratoga with me for a few days. We will
go there, if you like, only we will stop off at Sandgate on the way. Now
do this for me, sis, and I'll buy you the earth when Christmas comes!"
"Well, you will have to stay here until Monday," said Blanch, "and be
real nice to mamma and Ede all the time, or I can't fix it. Lucky for
you, Master Frank, that they are out driving now!"
"But why must we wait four days?" asked Frank petulantly.
"Because, my love-lorn brother," she replied, "in the first place I
don't want to miss the Saturday-night hop, and then we are booked for a
buck-board ride to the Flume to-morrow. Another reason is, I mean to pay
you for turning your back on us and going off on the 'Gypsy.'"
That afternoon our eager suitor wrote Alice the longest letter she had
ever received, for it consisted of nine full pages. As most of it can
easily be imagined, there is no need to quote it; suffice it to say that
it was received with some pleasure and a little vexation by Alice.
"Mr. Nason and his sister are coming here Monday," said she to Aunt
Susan, "and we must put on our best bib and tucker, I suppose. But how
we can contrive to entertain his sister is beyond me." Nevertheless, she
was rather pleased at the prospective visitation, for in a measure it
was a vindication of her own position. Then again as her school had been
closed for over a month, her daily life was becoming decidedly
monotonous. When Albert had written regarding the invitation the Nasons
had extended, she believed it was due solely to Frank's influence, and
when that young man tried to obtain her consent to join a
yachting-party, providing his mother and sister decided to go, she was
morally sure of it. But it made no difference, for if the supposedly
aristocratic Mrs. Nason had sent her a written invitation she was the
last person in the world to accept it. To so go out of her way for the
possible opportunity of allowing the only son of a rich family to pay
court to her was not characteristic of Alice Page. Rather a thousand
times would she teach school in single blessedness all her life than be
considered as putting herself in the way of a probable suitor. Of her
own feelings toward Frank she was not at all sure. He was a good-looking
young fellow and no doubt stood well socially. At first she had felt a
little contempt for him, due to his complaints that he had hard work to
kill time. When she received the letter announcing his determination to
study law and become a useful man in the world she thought better of
him. When he came up in June it became clear that he was decidedly in
love with her, for none of Mother Eve's daughters are ever long in doubt
on that point. So self-evident were his feelings that she at that time
felt compelled to avoid giving him a chance to express them. Her heart
was and always had been entirely free from the pangs of love, and while
his devotion was in a way quite flattering, the one insurmountable
barrier was his family. Had he been more diplomatic he would never have
told her his mother frowned at him when he danced twice with a poor
girl; but unwisely he had; and to a girl of Alice's pride and
penetration, that was enough. "I am a poor girl," she thought, when he
made the admission, "but I'll wear old clothes all my life before his
haughty mother shall read him a lecture for dancing twice with me."
Ever since the day Mrs. Mears had related the village gossip to her, she
had thought a good many times about the cause of it, but to no one had
she ever mentioned the matter since. Her only associate, good-natured
Abby Miles, had never dared to speak of it, and Aunt Susan was wise
enough not to, for which Frank ought to have been grateful, and no doubt
would have been, had he known it. Now that he and his fashionable
sister were coming to Sandgate Alice felt a good deal worried. Firstly,
she knew her own stock of gowns was inadequate--no young woman,
especially if she be pretty, enjoys being overshadowed by another in the
matter of dress, and Alice was no exception. While not vain of her
looks,--and she had ample reason to be,--she yet felt his sister would
consider her countrified in dress, or else realize the truth that she
was painfully poor. She had made the money her brother gave her go as
far as possible--that was not far. Her own small salary was not more
than enough to pay current expenses, and had he known how hard she had
contrived to make one dollar do the work of two he would have pitied
her. When the day and train arrived, and she had ushered her two guests
into their rooms, her worry began. A trunk had come, and as she busied
herself to help Aunt Susan get supper under way before she changed her
dress, she was morally sure Miss Nason would appear in a gown fit for a
state dinner. But when she was dressed and went out on the porch where
her guests were, she found Miss Blanch attired in a white muslin, severe
in its simplicity. It was a pleasant surprise, and then the matter of
dress no longer troubled her, for at no time during their stay did Alice
feel any reason to consider herself poorly clad in comparison. Of the
conversation that evening, so little was said that is pertinent to this
narrative that only a few utterances deserve space. Alice had the happy
faculty of finding out what subjects her guests were most interested in
and kept them talking upon them. Blanch gave an interesting description
of her life at the Maplewood; who were there, what gowns the ladies
wore; the hops, drives, tennis, croquet, and whist games; and when that
topic was exhausted Alice turned to Frank and said, "Now tell us about
your trip."
"There is not much to tell," he answered in a disappointed tone. "The
fact is my yachting-trip was a failure from start to finish. I hoped to
induce mother and the girls to go, and to coax you to join us, but that
plan failed. Then I made up a party of fellows and started. Two of them
played banjos, and that, with singing, fishing, and cards, I thought
would make a good time. I had a two weeks' trip all mapped out, no end
of stores on board, and anticipated lots of fun; but it didn't
materialize. The second day Bert got left on the island, and we didn't
find him until the next day. In the meantime he had found a pretty girl
and acted as if he had become smitten with her. Then we ran to Bar
Harbor, and the rest of the boys found some girls they knew, and decided
at once that a gander cruise had lost its charms; so I threw up my
hands, and you know the rest. I turned the 'Gypsy' over to Bert, and for
all I know or care he is using her to entertain his island fairy. I hope
so, anyhow. But I've got the merry ha-ha on him all right, and if he
ever rings the changes on a certain subject, he'll hear it, too." What
that certain subject was Alice did not see fit to ask, but joined with
Blanch in a good laugh at Frank's dolorous description of his trip and
its Waterloo at the hands of a few girls.
"It seems you can't get along without us much despised creatures,"
observed Blanch, "and if you had come to Bethlehem in the first place
you would have had a good time. There were no end of pretty girls at the
Maplewood, and eligible Romeos were scarce as white crows."
"I never said I could get along without girls," replied Frank, a little
piqued, "only I wanted girls to go on my yacht, that was all."
"And as the mountain wouldn't come to Mahomet," put in Blanch, "why,
Mahomet came to Bethlehem."
When the chit-chat slowed down Alice said, "I don't know how to
entertain you two good people in this dull place, though I want to very
much. There are mountains and woods galore and lots of pretty drives.
And," looking at Frank, "I know where there is a nice mill-pond full of
lilies, and an old moss-covered mill, and a miller that looks like a
picture in story books. There is also a drive to the top of the
mountain, where the view is simply grand. I have a steady-going and
faithful old horse, and we will go wherever you like."
"Do not worry about me, Miss Page," replied Blanch, "if I can see
mountain, and woods, I am perfectly happy."
When the evening was nearing its close Frank begged Alice to sing, but
she at first declined.
"Do you play or sing, Miss Nason?" she asked cautiously.
"Oh, please don't be afraid of me," was the answer, "I never touched a
piano in my life. Once in a while I join in the chorus, as they say, for
my own amusement and the amazement of others, but that is all."
It wasn't all, for she played the guitar and sang sweetly, but kept that
talent to herself on this occasion. Finally Alice was persuaded to open
the piano, and then out upon the still night air there floated many an
old-time ballad. After that she played selections from a few of the
latest light operas that Frank had sent her, and then turned away. "Oh,
don't stop now," exclaimed both her guests at once, "sing a few more
songs." Then with almost an air of proprietorship Frank arose, and going
to the piano searched for and found a well-worn song. Without a word he
opened and placed it on the music rack. It was "Ben Bolt"! A faint color
rose in Alice's face, but she turned and played the prelude without a
word. When she had sung the first verse, to her surprise Blanch was
standing beside her, and joined her voice in the next one. When it was
finished, Frank insisted on a repetition, and after that all three sang
a dozen more of the sweet old-time songs, so familiar to all. Then Alice
left the room to bring in a light lunch, and Frank seized the
opportunity to say, "Well, sis, what do you think?"
"I think," she replied, "that you were foolish to go yachting at all. If
I had been you I should have come up here in the first place, stayed at
the hotel, and courted her every chance I could. I am in love with her
myself, and we haven't been here six hours."
To her surprise Frank stepped up to her quickly and, taking her face in
his hands, kissed her.