DOROTHY AND THE BASHFUL BUGLER
The main street of pretty Digby runs close to the water. The bluff is
crowned by a grassy sward and a row of well-grown trees, with a driveway
between these and the buildings on the further side.
"Oh! how lovely and how different from our own seaside places, with
their hot sands, board walks, and cityfied shops. I hope no board walk
will ever spoil this charming boulevard!" exclaimed a lady, who stood at
a hotel window overlooking Annapolis Basin, on whose shore nestles the
little town.
"Yes, Mamma! Aren't you glad you came?" asked Monty Stark, entering the
room and joining her at the window.
"I hope I shall be, dear. I'm a little anxious about your friends. I
should greatly object, myself, to having people force themselves upon a
touring party I had organized. But you must understand, Montmorency,
that if I discover the slightest sign of objection to us, I shall go on
my own way and you will have to go with me. I--I am not accustomed to
being patronized or--no matter. I came to please you, my precious boy,
and I hope it will be all right. Let me see if you are quite correct. I
suppose the guests wear evening dress for dinner as in other civilized
places. Though--it looks more like a country village yonder, than a real
watering place."
"But, Mamma, it is a country village. Nothing else, the Judge says. And
somehow I feel rather silly in this rig. I saw the Judge a moment ago
and he wasn't in evening clothes, but he's a 'brick' all right!"
"Montmorency! How can you use such dreadful expressions?"
"Easy as preaching, _chere Maman_!"
"I'm afraid your associates at Brentnor are not all of them as refined
and exclusive as I had supposed. I've observed other phrases that I do
not like. One of them was, I think, 'Shucks!'"
"Yes, I reckon you did. I didn't catch that from a Brentnor, though, but
from Jim Barlow."
"Who is he, pray?"
"Blest if I can tell or he either. He hails from a poorhouse. He was
'bound out' to a woman truck farmer. He's been 'taken up' by Mrs. Cecil
Somerset-Calvert, of Baltimore, and lots of other places. A lady that's
so rich she has homes in ever so many different parts of the country.
But better than that he's a 'trump,' a life-saver, a scholar, and--a
gentleman! One of 'Nature's' you know. Would like to have you meet him
because he's my present chum; that is, he would be if--if we lived in
the same house and could be. But unfortunately, he has agreed to do
'chores' for a parson in payment for his instruction in Greek and all
the 'ologies.' He's off on a tramp now, 'hoofing it,' as he elegantly
expresses it, for a vacation. He's taken the parson and a couple of dogs
along for company. The parson's a trotting tramper, too. Maybe you've
read some of his delightful articles in the magazines. Eh? What? Too
much for you, Mamma? Well, never mind. I'll quit now, for there goes the
last bell for dinner. Allow me?"
Bowing and offering his arm Monty conducted his richly clad mother
toward the dining-room, whither a crowd of tourists were hastening.
These were garbed in any sort of comfortable traveling clothes, the
women mostly in white shirt-waists such as Mrs. Stark would have
disdained even for morning wear at home. The men looked as if they had
just come from a dusty train, a too-fragrant fishing boat, or a rough
camp in the woods; and at the foot of the stairs the fashionable Mrs.
Stark paused in a sort of dismay.
For an instant, too, she had an odd feeling as if it were she who had
made a mistake, not those groups of merry, hungry holiday-makers, who
elbowed one another good naturedly, in order to find a seat at the
crowded tables. Mrs. Stark wasn't used to elbowing or being elbowed, and
she gathered her silken train in her hand to preserve it from contact
with the oil-cloth covered floor of the lobby, while her face gathered
an expression of real alarm.
"Why, my dear son! We can't stay here, you know! It is simply impossible
to hobnob with such--such queer persons. We must seek another hotel at
once. I'll step into that room yonder which is the 'parlor' probably,
and you summon the proprietor. I--I am not accustomed to this want of
courtesy and--indeed, dear, I am greatly displeased with you. You
painted the trip in such glowing colors I--"
"But, Mamma, don't the colors glow? Did you ever see anything in your
life lovelier than this glimpse of the Annapolis Basin, with the
moonlight on it, the great peaks and cliffs beyond? I'm sorry if you're
disappointed but you didn't seem to be up in your room, looking out. As
for changing hotels we'd simply 'hop out of the frying pan into the
fire,' since this is the best one in the town. Else Judge Breckenridge
wouldn't have come here."
"Monty, dear! Such phrases again! Is that another lesson learned from
the poorhouse boy?"
"No, indeedy! I caught that from Alfaretta Babcock. She of the
_retrousse_ nose and simple speech. A royal sort of girl, too, is Alfy;
first of the alphabetical Babcock sisters. The second is--But come,
Mamma. We're in for it and I don't want to go to bed hungry, even if you
do. I'm afraid, Mother mine, that there's been too much 'de luxe' in
your life and I shall have to reconstruct you."
His mirthful face provoked her to laughter despite her real vexation and
fortunately, at that moment, Mrs. Hungerford entered the room and
advanced to Mrs. Stark with extended hand and the warmest of greetings.
"This is Monty's mother, I'm sure. I am Molly's Auntie Lu. We exist I
fancy, for our respective youngsters and mine discovered you through the
doorway of the dining-room and commissioned me to fetch you. We've had
seats reserved for you at our table in the corner and I apologize for
not hunting you up earlier. The truth is we were out driving until the
last moment and were greatly hurried ourselves. So, of course, we were
none of us here when the train came in and I did not know you had
arrived. Shall we go now? You will find that people grow desperately
hungry when they first come into this bracing air, and with the best
intentions in the world, the proprietor isn't always able to provide
enough for such clamorous appetites. My brother says that explains the
rather rude crowding to get 'first table,' and that our remedy lies in
doing a bit of crowding ourselves. I rather enjoy it, already, though we
only came here yesterday. Did you have a pleasant trip?"
"No, I did not. I was never on such a poor steamer before. Fortunately I
wasn't ill and it's not a long sail from Boston across. Is it really
true, as Montmorency tells me, that there is no better hotel than this?"
returned the other, rising to follow Auntie Lu.
[Illustration: "HELLO SNACKENBERG! HERE AM I! GIVE ME A RIDE?"
_Dorothy's Travels._]
Since Monty had said that he was hungry, of course, she would stay for
that one meal and let him get comfortable. Afterward--she would
follow her own judgment.
But she, also, was gently bred and born, and despite a lack of plain
common sense was an agreeable person in the main. She had responded to
Mrs. Hungerford's greeting with a correct society manner; and now, as
she followed toward the dining-room, she bestowed upon that lady's back
a keenly critical survey. She saw that Aunt Lucretia was well but simply
gowned in white. She was immaculately fresh, and fragrant from her bath
with a faint odor of violets about her that pleased rather than offended
nostrils which habitually objected to "perfumery" as something common
and vulgar.
Her gown might have been expensive but did not look so and was eminently
more fit for an evening dinner in a tourists' hotel than the elaborate
costume of Mrs. Stark.
Though she had been but twenty-four hours in the place, Auntie Lu had
already adapted herself to it completely, and smiled away the services
of a rather frightened head-waitress new to her business, as she
threaded her way toward that distant corner of the crowded room where
her own table overlooked the water.
A little hush fell over the adjoining tables as Mrs. Stark's elegance
bore down upon them in her majestic way. She was portly and
heavy-motioned, as poor Monty was apt to be when he should arrive at her
age; and chairs had to be drawn in closer, feet tucked under them, and
heads bent forward as she passed by.
As for the youth in her train misery and mortification shone on his
chubby countenance. For a boy he had been absurdly fond of dress, but he
had also a keen sense of what was fit and he knew his present costume
was not that. However, all this trivial unpleasantness passed, as the
entering pair were greeted by the rest of the party. The Judge still
wore a business suit but his manner, as he rose to be presented to Mrs.
Stark was so polished and correct that her spirits revived, thinking:
"Well, the people are all right, if the place isn't."
She acknowledged Miss Isobel's greeting with a slight haughtiness, such
as she felt was due a social inferior. Upon Molly she bestowed an
admiring smile and glance; and upon Dorothy a rather perfunctory one.
The girl might also be "poorhouse born" for aught anybody knew, and from
contact with such her "precious lamb" was to be well protected. She
intended to see to it that further intercourse between her son and that
"tramp," Jim Barlow, should be prevented also; and while she marvelled
that "the Breckenridges" should make much of the girl, as apparently
they did, it wasn't necessary that she should do the same. Monty had
told her all about each member of the party so that Dorothy's story was
familiar to her. The lad had concluded his recital with the words:
"She's the bravest, sincerest girl in the world. She's braver than
Molly Breckenridge, and I like her immensely. All the boys at Brentnor
think she's fine, and we all hope some grand romance will come out of
the facts of her parentage. She doesn't come of any illiterate, common
stock, Mamma. You may be sure of that. So I hope you'll be nice and
not--not too _Stark-ish_ toward her, please!"
So this was the girl who had saved life. Of that grim teacher opposite
and, later, of a farmer's son out of a tree where he was hanging. Very
creditable, of course, though it couldn't affect herself, Mrs. Ebenezer
Vavasour-Stark, and she fixed her attention elsewhere.
It was due to the Judge that she altered her opinion of her present
quarters so far as to decide upon remaining in them; and to make the
best of the whole trip, "which you know is but a prolonged picnic. As
for air and health and strength, you could find nothing better the world
over, my dear Madam," he had said.
After that first dinner also she had a talk with her son; which resulted
in his displaying a common sense that did him credit.
"Look here, Mamma. Let's just pack all these over-fine togs in the
trunks and leave them here to be sent to us when wanted. All we shall
need, I fancy, is a suit-case a-piece with the plainest things we own.
Even that 'fancy' hunter's suit I bought is ridiculous. The Judge uses
the oldest sort of things--'regular rags,' Molly says; and I--I may _be_
a fool but I don't like to _look_ like one! Do it, Mamma, to please me.
And let's put our 'society' manners into the trunks with the clothes.
Let's live, for these few weeks, as if we were real poor--as poor as
Dolly or Miss Greatorex. I don't believe even that lady has any money to
speak of and as for Dorothy, she hasn't a cent. Not a cent."
"How do you know that, Montmorency? Are you on such intimate terms with
that foundling that she confides the state of her finances to you? If
so, she is probably hinting for presents."
"Umm. Might be. Didn't look like it though when I proposed just now to
buy her one of those Indian baskets on sale in the lobby. She wouldn't
take one, though Molly took all I wanted to give--and more. _That_ girl
hasn't any scruples about having a good time and letting anybody pay
that wants to."
"That, son, is a proof of good birth and breeding, she has always been
accustomed to having her wants supplied and takes it as a matter of
course. But, Monty darling, you must be good to Mamma. She doesn't feel
as if she had come to a 'Paradise of a place,' as you told me I would
find it. Yet if it pleases you to see your mother dressed like a servant
why, of course, for your sake I'll consent. But I warn you, no
skylarking with underbred people or I shall take you straight home."
This little conversation shows that Mrs. Hungerford was right when she
informed her brother on that same evening:
"We made a blunder when we allowed the Starks to join our personal
party. They fit into it about as well as a round peg in a square hole.
The woman--Well, she may be high-born and rich but I don't want our
Molly to copy her notions. She's not nice, either, to poor Miss Isobel
nor Dorothy. The result is that Miss Greatorex has grown more difficult
and 'stiff' than she was in the beginning. Such a pity when she's just
begun to get softer and more human!"
In his heart the Judge was not over-pleased by this untoward opening of
the new association, but he wouldn't admit it to her. He merely said:
"I'm sorry if you're going to let the prejudices of silly women spoil
your own vacation. Don't do it. Just remember what you often say, that
human nature is the same everywhere. We have the pride of wealth to
contend with on one hand and the pride of poverty on the other; but
beneath each sort of pride lies an honest heart. I believe it, and that
we shall yet see these two opposing elements merged in a warm
friendship. Watch for it. It takes all sorts of people to make a world
and another sort will be added, to-morrow, when Melvin joins us. Throw
in the college Prex, the millionaire financier, and surgeon Mantler, and
we shall have a miniature world of our own in our traveling mates."
"Schuyler, you haven't told me yet what part that lad Melvin is to play
in this 'world.' Why did you ask him?"
"To test him, Lu, nothing else. His mother is anxious he should make a
man of himself and isn't sure how best he can. She permitted him to take
a bugler's place on the 'Prince' because he wanted to try a sea-faring
life. Two seasons of it, even under the comfortable conditions of a
passenger steamship, has sickened him of that. He fancied he could be a
musician and has talent sufficient only to 'bugle.' Now he wants to see
the world, though he didn't dream I was to offer him a chance. She
thinks he would make a good lawyer, and so his uncle Ephraim thinks. Her
pastor thinks he ought to be a minister; and the only point upon which
all his friends and himself agree is that he should not spend all his
days in 'Ya'mouth.' I'm going to take him to camp with me, to act as
handy-man for all of us. That will give me a chance to see what stuff
he's made of; and if he's worth it--if he's worth it--I'll take him down
to Richmond and set him at the law.
"Molly, however, must let him alone. That girl can upset more plans than
the wisest man can lay; and if she gets to teasing him on account of his
strange bashfulness she'll scare him away from us and disappoint his
mother's tender heart. _She_ thinks that 'son' is a paragon of all the
virtues. So does this other mother who's just joined us, think of her
beloved Montmorency Vavasour-Stark. What a name! Between them and their
'laddies' I reckon I shall have less peace than from the wildest of
tricksy Molly's capers."
"Schuyler, you mustn't be hard on her. She's exactly like what you were
at her age! And she is the dearest child, you know it!"
"I must have been what you call 'a sweet thing,' then! But, of course,
she's my own 'crow,' therefore she's pure white," laughed the adoring
father, with more earnest than jest.
"Also, brother, in all your plans for others don't forget little
Dorothy's. I know you're busy but I must find out who her own people
are. I _must_. It's a sin and a heartless one to keep her young heart
longer in suspense. I know she often ponders the thing, in spite of her
cheerfulness, even gayety."
To which he returned:
"Don't attribute more pondering to her than belongs. Of the two I fancy
you do the most of that. Nor think I've forgotten her interests. Her
history is already being unravelled, thread by thread, and stitch by
stitch. When the thread's wound clear up I trust it may make a goodly
ball."
"Oh! my dear brother, what do you mean?" cried Aunt Lucretia, eagerly.
"I mean that I set old Ephraim Cook to the task. He's already down at
Annapolis, fairly burrowing in archives and genealogies, and the
skeleton closets of all our old Maryland families. It's the most
congenial task he ever undertook in all his generally-useful life; for
back here in 'Markland' he's long ago prepared a history of the
peninsula that deserve publishing. He can trace every Bluenose household
to its very beginning, and claims his own came to this side the sea in
the Mayflower. That's one reason he wants Melvin, the last of his race,
to make a name for it. Trust me he'll forage for our Dorothy better than
I could myself; but he isn't to disturb us with letters of theories or
'maybes.' When he gets his facts--hurrah for the _denoument_! Now, dear,
to your rest. The burdens of a peacemaker rest on your shoulders
but--you'll make and keep the peace. Good night."
After all, when the sun rose on the following morning and this oddly
assorted traveling party met to discuss the day's plans, each was so
rested and refreshed that an abnormal amiability pervaded the whole
group.
"What would you like to do best?" "Oh, no! You say!" "I'm sure whatever
the rest propose will be agreeable to me in the way of sight-seeing."
"Or even staying quietly at the hotel and just enjoying the outlook on
the sea."
Such were the remarks exchanged and with such suavity of manner that
Molly clapped her hands and cried:
"I declare, you're all too sweet to be wholesome! And it happens that I
know what _I_ want to do, even if you don't. Let's go away down to the
end, I mean the beginning, of the town where they are curing fish. I saw
them from the car window, and even then they were so interesting. I mean
the fish were. Or--or the things where they fixed them. And, beg pardon,
Mrs. Stark, even if you looked at that water all day long you couldn't
make it into a 'sea.' It's only a Basin, the fag end of Annapolis Basin.
Yonder, where there are so many sails and steamers, is the Bay of Fundy,
and to get to the really truly sea you must go beyond that. The reason
I'm so wise, if you want to know, is that I've been here twenty-four
hours longer than you and I improved my time by asking questions."
With that the little maid swept her new acquaintance a courtesy and
smiled so sweetly that any presumption on her girlish part was readily
forgiven. Besides she was a Breckenridge; and though Mrs. Stark had now
resolved to be as "democratic" as her new friends were it was easier
resolved than practiced. If it had been Dorothy who ventured to plan for
her elders her suggestions would have been coolly ignored.
The Judge drew near in time to hear the end of the talk and added:
"That is a sight we won't meet elsewhere in the same proportion as here.
Also, the walk will do us good, and we shall pass the postoffice on our
way. I like going for my own mail to the 'general delivery' better than
having it sent to the hotel. I like the mingling with the eager crowd
that waits before the little window to ask: 'Anything for me?' I like to
watch the faces of the people when they open their letters. One can
guess the 'home' ones by the expression of joy and the merely friendly
by the indifference. I like--"
"Dear Schuyler, spare us! If there's anything upon earth you _don't_
like that's even half-way interesting I can't guess it." Then turning to
Mrs. Stark, Mrs. Hungerford added: "Brother is like a boy when he gets
leave of absence, this way. Suppose you walk along with him and find out
if there is anything he _doesn't_ like along the way."
Her brother gave her an arch glance. Evidently she had begun her
peaceful adjustment of "assorted" temperaments by assigning himself to
Mrs. Stark's escort, though she knew all the time that he wanted to be
with the youngsters. She placed herself along side Miss Isobel, smiling
at that lady's inquiry if she were going into a public street without a
hat.
"Surely. 'When in Rome do as the Romans do,' you remember. And see.
Though most of the people have on some sort of wrap very few women are
bonneted and even the men carry their hats in hand. Brother has snatched
his off already."
The Judge was in front, attentively courteous and listening to Mrs.
Stark's remarks, yet seemed to have eyes in the back of his head; for
presently he asked:
"What are you youngsters lagging behind for? Dolly, take Melvin under
your shelter and make him tell you everything you want to know about
Digby. He's been here before many times, I've learned. And Molly, you
and Monty walk ahead if you please. I like to keep my eye on my own and
I fancy Mrs. Stark does too."
Separated from these two, who had been in the rear of the whole party,
Melvin did exert himself to overcome his abnormal shyness and to talk;
and when after proceeding a little way and his finding Dorothy eagerly
observant of even the most trivial things that were new to her, he had
an abrupt burst of courage--or was it a harmless spite against his
tormentor of the day before, Molly? Whatever it was that emboldened him,
he suddenly laid his hand on her arm and said:
"Wait just a minute! There comes a man I know. He's a transplanted
Yarmouthian who's moved to Digby to 'haul' for his livelihood. He'll be
glad to see me and hear the news from home; and won't want to waste time
in doing it. I'll ask him to give us a ride. I don't believe either of
you girls from the States ever did ride in such an equipage."
She had paused as he wished and was listening in surprise. As much
because he talked so well and so easily as at the really joyous tone in
which he hailed his uncouth acquaintance from "Home."
"Hello, Snackenberg! Here am I! Give me a ride?"
"Well, well, well! Son of all the Cooks! What you doin' here? Allowed
you was sailin' the 'blue and boundless' just about now!" cried the
teamster and leaning forward shook the lad so heartily by his own hard
hand that Melvin squealed and protested:
"Well, we can't stand here, you know. I'll just help this young lady
in--she's from the States--and you can jog on."
The team was of the sort that is always willing to stop, and the
"equipage" was easily entered by merely stepping into its open rear. It
swung low to the ground, after the fashion of Nova Scotian carts, and
for seats it had a bundle of clean straw.
In another moment the animals had been goaded to fresh effort, their
owner had turned about on the chain where he balanced himself for a seat
and also turned a corner into a side street that climbed the hill behind
the town. Then he ordered:
"Fire ahead! Tell everything you know; and I say, Sissy, did you ever
see a purtier pair of creeturs than them be? I'm prouder of 'em than I
could be of the finest team o' thoroughbreds ever stepped. Gee, there!
Haw, I tell ye!"
Beyond, at the postoffice, the truants had been suddenly missed; and
with varying degrees of anxiety their elders were asking one another:
"What do you suppose has become of Dorothy and that queer boy?"
But Molly was more vexed than anxious and she looked upon Monty with
rising disfavor. She guessed that they were having some fun from which
she was shut out and which Montmorency Vavasour-Stark would never have
had the originality to suggest.
"Oh! I wish I knew! Maybe they're eating each other up! Yesterday she
asked if he was a 'wildcat' and I told her 'yes.' Maybe, maybe--Oh! Why
did you make us walk in front, namby-pamby so, Papa dear? If we'd been
with them we'd know what they are doing and what has happened. Oh! dear!
If I hadn't been in front I'd have been behind!" she complained. Nor was
she greatly pleased by the laugh which her Irish-cism raised.