It was surely the most natural, reasonable, and human complaint in the
world. In family talk, it had an established standing, too, having first
been formulated far back at Hunter's Run. But now it was as if Angela
had flung her challenge in the teeth of fate once oftener than fate
could stand.
On the very next day, in brief, the fairy godmother came rolling up to
the door.
We read how it is always darkest just before the dawn. Angela, who knew
that pleasant things rarely just happened, indoors, had gone out, so it
was that she missed the direct distribution of gifts. But, as it
chanced, she had been having her first really good time, since the
earlier part of the bridge-party. In fact, on Washington Street, at
about the same time and place, she had met Mr. Tilletts again; and now
he was not hurried at all. It pleasantly developed that Mr. Tilletts's
doctor had ordered him to stop riding around in his great car, and that
henceforth he would be walking constantly. Moreover, the genial gallant,
after a considerable promenade, had taken Angela to tea at Mrs.
Hasseltine's famous shop, and, at parting--sure enough--made a
provisional engagement to call "one evening this week." Altogether, the
coterie seemed in a fair way to pick up a new member, after all.
Whether fascinating or overplump, Widower Tilletts unquestionably
possessed the magic power, wielded by man alone, to restore the
self-esteem of a neglected young girl. Angela opened the front door of
home in a livelier humor than had been hers for weeks. And so entering,
she found her mother standing in the hall, and heard at once tidings
which, though not for her exactly, yet made her forget herself
altogether.
Mrs. Ashburton had been, and gone. Mrs. Ashburton was going to send
Wallie to college, at once. Mrs. Ashburton was going to give Wallie
_five hundred dollars a year_, till he had got his education.
This oft-cited lady, at last the waver of the magic wand, was Mrs.
Flower's first cousin. Close friends in their girlhood, their ways had
long ago parted; and, since Dr. and Mrs. Flower's visit to New York in
1896, amenities between them had hardly gone beyond an exchange of cards
at Christmas. But now it happened that Mrs. Ashburton, _en route_ to a
balmier clime than hers, had "broken her trip" here, after the frequent
way of tourists, and, having duly viewed the sights of the city from a
cab window through the morning, had bethought her to look up her
resident kin. So the rich relation came to the little house on Center
Street.
By chance, it was Saturday afternoon, and Wallie was alone in the house.
It seemed that an experiment he had been working on for days had just
turned out a failure, and he had opened all the windows and the front
door by way of letting out the smell. But even then he did not see the
lady standing on the steps, so intent was he on the large glass retort
in his hand. His face was quite white, and beaded with perspiration. So
Mrs. Ashburton had described it to Mrs. Flower, who came in to find her
just leaving for hotel and train. She had asked: "What are you looking
at that brown liquid so hard for?" "That's it; it's brown," Wallie had
muttered, still without looking at her. "You mean it ought to have
turned out white?" said she. "No, green," said Wallie, frowning and
squinting. "Where'd the chlorine go to?" "Why do you care so much?" Mrs.
Ashburton asked, more and more interested. "Why do I _care_?" he said,
scornfully; and then, as if becoming conscious of her, personally, for
the first time, he turned his spectacles on her and said calmly: "You
wouldn't understand, ma'am. A--a problem here.... Well, I don't
understand it myself." And then, losing her again, as it were, he
actually endeavored to shut the door, with the lady outside. Mrs.
Ashburton had had to push against it, she said, and put her foot in the
crack, to attract his notice. "I'm your cousin--_your cousin!_--Mrs.
Ashburton!" she cried. "And I want to come in and talk to you, please."
And this she had done, with the amazing result mentioned above.
Angela felt that the family tide had turned at last. She would scarcely
have been human if it had not occurred to her how easily she might have
been the one to be struck by the golden lightning; but such passing
notions in no sense marred her sincere, though vicarious, joy over this
great news. Moreover, it did seem, of course, that such a sum as five
hundred dollars could not percolate into a family at any point without
raising the whole level of prosperity very appreciably; and it was with
whole-hearted happiness that she skipped upstairs to congratulate her
lucky brother in the little bedroom she would not have to clean or
"make" any more.
"Something _very_ nice is going to happen to _me_ soon, too!" she
thought gayly, as she undressed that night. "I feel it in my bones!"
Her mind naturally slanted toward her favorite brother, with an
intuitive increase of hopefulness. And, true enough, it was from
generous Tommy that the more personal blessings presently came, though
in a form that had not entered Angela's dreams.
Tommy's reply to her sisterly letter promised at first, indeed, to be as
disappointing as Mr. Garrott's had been, and for the same reason: it
omitted the essential thing. Angela, having shaken the letter, and then
shuffled the pages, early discovered that there was no thank-offering in
it. Similarly, Tommy's sentences seemed to contain nothing more
substantial than affectionate regrets: setting forth what a struggle he
had trying to keep up with the set that Nina had always moved in; how he
was five thousand dollars in debt now, getting deeper, and never had a
nickel to jingle for himself, and that was the God's truth; how it had
always been his dream to do something big for his sister, and certainly
would do the same when old Mottesheard (Nina's father) died; how the old
chap hung on in a way you wouldn't believe....
Angela read with a certain sense of chill. Truly womanly, she, of
course, never questioned the superior claims of wives. And yet it did
seem a little hard that Tommy (who made a large salary as a bond
salesman, or something like that) should lavish everything on a girl he
had never heard of three years ago, while she, his own sister--
And then, turning into the fourth page, she came on a passage which
checked all minor-key reflections instantly. In their place, rose and
grew a startled astonishment. Tommy, noting what she had written about
her long, dull walks, was offering to _give her an automobile_.
At first, Angela simply could not take in this offer as a solid reality.
It sprang upon her like some wild, exciting joke. She read, with her
breath coming faster and faster, and her soft eyes as big as saucers:--
Now, Sis, I know a car may strike you offhand as a good deal of
an undertaking for a poor family, but you'd find it wouldn't
prove so at all. The car I have in mind for you is a little
simple one, that you could easily run and manage yourself. A
man from the nearest garage will teach you how to drive it in
an hour. There'd be no upkeep at all, with the easy city use
you'd give it--practically no expense of any kind but gasoline.
The little car is old, of course, but still sound as a trivet,
and it'll run till you wouldn't believe it on a gallon or so of
juice....
For a space the letter faded from the young girl's vision. Before her
mind's eye flashed a series of entrancing pictures: pictures of herself,
no longer the lone, slow pedestrian in a too large city....
And don't think you would be depriving us [Tommy went on]. Nina
_will_ have a new car every year, and we've really had no use
for this one for some time. By the by, didn't you tell me there
was an old barn in your back-yard, or an alley? Why wouldn't
that do for your garage? Then you would have your car ready at
hand, without storage cost, and could take it out at a moment's
notice and go for a spin with your friends.
Now think it over, Sis, and let me know if you want it. I can
ship it at once, by prepaid express. Nina has a frank....
"Oh, _mother_!" cried Angela excitedly. "Tommy wants to give me an
automobile!"
The heads of the Flowers lifted from their breakfasts as if jerked by a
common string.
When the breath-taking letter had been read again, aloud this time,
there followed a family symposium, the question being whether or not
Angela could have the automobile. To her surprise and delight, it
appeared that there was really no question; all the family wanted her to
take the automobile; all agreed with Tommy that it would not be a
prohibitive undertaking. Mrs. Flower, an habitual conservative, pointed
out that there would be nothing to lose in any case: if having the
automobile proved impracticable, Angela could simply sell it. Wallie
said that, if the automobile came before he left for college, he would
teach Angela how to run it himself, thus eliminating the expense of a
man from the garage. And, finally, her father astonished her by saying
that he would find the necessary funds--estimated at ten dollars--for
repairing the abandoned shed, which now leaked dangerously, into a
serviceable little garage.
At nine-thirty o'clock that morning Angela rushed out of the house to
the nearest telegraph office, to dispatch her happy reply. Excited
though she was, however, she did not forget to count the words:--
Crazy about it Tommy. Arrangements made. What kind is car?