Chemical Experiments
"Eleanor! Eleanor! where are you?" cried Constance at the foot of the
third-story stairs the following day after luncheon.
Blue Monday had passed with its dull gray clouds and chill winds to
give place to one of those rare, warm days which sometimes come to us
late in October, as though the glorious autumn were loath to depart
and had turned back for a last smile upon the land it loved.
The great river lay like shimmering liquid gold, the air was filled
with the warm, pungent odors of the late autumn woods, and a soft haze
rested upon the opposite hills.
"Here in my room," answered Eleanor. "What is it? What do you want? I
can't come just this minute. Come up if it's important." The voice was
somewhat muffled as though the speaker's head were covered.
Constance bounded up the stairs, hurried across the hall and entered
the large third-story front room which Eleanor occupied. There was no
sign of its occupant.
"More experiments I dare say," she murmured as she entered, crossed
the room and pushed open the door leading into a small adjoining room
whereupon her nostrils were assailed by odors _not_ of Araby--the
blessed.
"Phew! Ugh! What an awful smell! What under the sun are you doing? If
you don't blow yourself to glory some day I shall be thankful," she
ended as she pinched her nostrils together.
"Shut the door quick and don't let the smell get through the house or
mother will go crazy when she gets home. Yes, it _is_ pretty bad, but
tie your handkerchief over your nose and then you won't mind it so
much. As for blowing myself to glory, perhaps that will be my only way
of ever coming by any, so I ought to be willing to take that route.
But what do you want?" concluded Eleanor, pouring one smelly chemical
into a small glass which contained another, whereupon it instantly
became a most exquisite shade of crimson.
Constance watched her closely without speaking. Presently she said:
"Well I dare say it is 'everyone to her fancy,' as the old lady said
when she kissed her cow (Jean could appreciate that, couldn't she? She
kisses Baltie often enough) but _I'd_ rather be excused when chemical
experiments are in order. Don't for the life of me understand how you
endure the smells and the mess. What is _that_ horrid looking thing
over there?" and Constance pointed to a grewsome-looking object
stretched upon a small glass table at the farther side of the room.
"My rabbit. I got it at the school laboratory and I've been examining
its respiratory organs. They're perfectly wonderful, Constance. Want
to see them? I'll be done with this in just a minute."
"_No I don't!_" was the empathic negative. "I dare say it's all very
wonderful and interesting and I ought to know all about breathing
apparatus----_es_, or apparatti, or whatever the plural of our wind-pump
machine _is_, but if I've got to learn by hashing up animals I'll
never, _never_ know, and that's all there is about it. I'll take my
knowledge on theory or supposition or whatever you call it. But I've
nearly forgotten to tell you the news. I've had a letter from Mrs.
Hadyn, Mr. Stuyvesant's aunt, the one he is named for you know, asking
me to help at the candy counter at the Memorial Hospital Fair, week
after next, and, incidentally, contribute some of my 'delicious
pralines and nut fudge'--that's in quotes remember,--and remain for the
dance which will follow after ten-thirty on the closing evening. She
will see that I reach home safely. How is _that_ for a frolic? I've
been wild for a dance the past month."
"Is mother willing? What will you wear?" was the essentially feminine
inquiry which proved that Eleanor, even though absorbed in her
sciences and isms, was a woman at heart.
"What is the use of asking that? You know I've got to wear whatever is
on hand to be utilized into gay and festive attire. I can't indulge in
new frocks now-a-days when the finances are at such a low ebb. Need
all we've got for necessities without thinking of spending money for
notions. But I'll blossom out gloriously; see if I don't. That was one
reason I came up to talk to you. Can you tear yourself away from your
messes long enough to come up to the attic with me? I've been wanting
to rummage for days, but haven't been able to get around to it. So
tidy up, and come along. You've absorbed enough knowledge to last you
for one while."
Eleanor wavered a moment and then began to put aside her materials,
and a few moments later the two girls were up in the attic.
"Do you know what I believe I'll do?" said Constance, after a half
hour's rummaging among several trunks had brought forth a perplexing
array of old finery, winter garments and outgrown apparel. "I believe
I'll just cart down every solitary dud we've got here and have them
all aired. I heard mother say last week that they ought to be, and she
would have it done the first clear, dry day, and this one is simply
heavenly. Come on; take an armful and get busy. They smell almost as
abominably from tar camphor as your laboratory smells of chemicals."
"Think I'd rather have the chemicals if my choice were consulted,"
laughed Eleanor as obedient to instructions, she gathered up an armful
of clothing and prepared to descend the stairs.
"Thanks, I'll take the tar. Go on; I'll follow."
Little was to be seen of either girl as she moved slowly down the
stairs. At the foot stood Mammy.
"Fo' de Lawd sake wha' yo' chillen at _now_?" she demanded as she
stood barring their progress.
"Bringing out our winter wardrobes, Mammy. Good deal of it as to
quantity; what it will turn out as to quality remains to be seen,"
cried Constance cheerily.
"Lak' 'nough mos' anyt'ing if yo' had de handlin' ob it. Yo' sartin'
_is_ de banginest chile wid yo' han's," was Mammy's flattering reply.
"Perhaps if I could 'bang' as well with my brains as with my hands I
might amount to something, Mammy. But Nornie has all the brains of the
family. _She_'ll make our fame and fortune some day; see if she
doesn't."
"Guess I'll have to do something clever then if I am to become famous
in _this_ day and age," said Eleanor, as she made her way past Mammy.
"Thus far I haven't given very noble promise."
"Who sesso?" demanded Mammy. "Ain' yo' de fust and fo'most up dere
whar de school's at? What fur ole Miss sendin' yo' dar fer den? Huh, I
reckon _she_ know whar ter spen' her money, an' Gawd knows she ain'
spendin' none what ain' gwine ter pintedly make up fer all she gin
out. _She_ no fool, I tell yo'."
The girls broke into peals of laughter, for Mammy's estimation of "ol'
Miss," as she called Mr. Carruth's aunt by marriage, was a pretty
accurate one, "Aunt Eleanor" being a lady who had very pronounced
ideas and no hesitation whatever in giving expression to them, as well
as a very strong will to back them up. She also had a pretty liberally
supplied purse, the supply being drawn from a large estate which she
had inherited from her father, a Central New York farmer, who had made
a fortune in fruit-growing and ended his days in affluence, although
he had begun them in poverty. She had no children, her only son having
died when a child, and her husband soon afterward. Bernard Carruth had
always been a favorite with her, although she never forgave him for
what she pronounced his "utter and imbecilic folly." It was Aunt
Eleanor who made the seminary possible for the niece who had been
named for her; a compliment which flattered the old lady more than she
chose to let others suspect, for the niece was manifesting a fine
mind, and the aunt had secretly resolved to do not a little toward its
development although she took pains to guard the fact.
"Go along up-stairs and get an armful of things, Mammy. That will keep
you from flattering me and making me conceited," cried Eleanor, when
the laugh ended.
"Huh! Mek a Blairsdale 'ceited?" retorted Mammy, as she started up to
the attic. "Dey's got too much what dey _knows_ is de right stuff fer
ter pester dey haids studyin' 'bout it; it's right dar all de endurin'
time; dey ain' gotter chase atter it lessen dey loses it."
"Was there ever such a philosopher as Mammy?" laughed Constance as
they got beyond hearing.
"Wish there were a few more with as much sound sense--black or white--"
answered Eleanor as she shook out one of Jean's frocks and hung it
across the clothes-line.
A moment later Mammy joined them with more garments which cried aloud
for the glorious fresh air and sunshine. She hung piece after piece
upon the line, giving a shake here, a pat there, or almost a caress
upon another, for each one recalled to her loving old heart the memory
of more prosperous days, and each held its story for her. When all
were swinging in the sunshine she stepped back and surveyed the array,
her mouth pursed up quizzically, but her eyes full of kindness.
"What are you thinking of Mammy?" asked Constance, slipping her
fingers into Mammy's work-hardened hand very much as she had done when
a little child.
"Hum; Um: What's I t'inkin' of? I'se t'inkin' dat ar lot ob clo'se
supin lak we-all here: De'y good stuff in um, an' I reckon dey c'n
stan' 'spection, on'y dey sartin _do_ stan' in need ob jist a _leetle_
spondulix fer ter put em in shape. Dar's _too much_ ob em spread all
_ober_. What dey needs is ter rip off some o' dem _ruffles_ and jis
hang ter de plain frocks ter tek keer ob. We spen's a heap ob time
breshin' ruffles dat we better spen' tekin' keer ob de frocks in,"
concluded Mammy with a sage nod as she turned and walked into the
house.
"Upon my word I believe Mammy's pretty near right Eleanor. We _have_
got a good many _ruffles_ to take care of on this big place and I
sometimes feel that mother is wearing herself out caring for them.
Perhaps we would be wiser to give them up."
"Perhaps we would," agreed Eleanor, "but where will we go if we give
up the home? We have hardly known any other, for we were both too
little to think much about homes or anything else when we came into
this one. For my part, I am ready to do whatever is best and wisest,
although I love every stick and stone here. Mother has looked terribly
worried lately although she hasn't said one word to me. Has she to
you?
"No, nothing at all. But I know what you mean; her eyes look so tired.
I wonder if anything new has arisen to make her anxious. She says so
little at any time. I mean to have a talk with her this evening if I
can get a chance. Do you get Jean out of the way. She is such an
everlasting chatterbox that there is no hope of a quiet half hour
while she is around. Now let's take an inventory of this array and
plan my frivolity frock," and Constance drew Eleanor down upon a
rustic seat at one side of the lawn to discuss the absorbing question
of the new gown to be evolved from some of the old ones which were
swaying in the wind.
Perhaps a half hour passed, the girls were giving little heed to time,
for the drowsy dreamy influence of the afternoon was impressing itself
upon them. Constance had planned the gown to the minutest detail,
Eleanor agreeing and secretly marveling at her ability to do so, when
both became aware of a strong odor of smoke.
"What is burning, I wonder?" said Constance, glancing in the direction
of a patch of woodland not far off.
"Leaves, most likely. The Henrys' gardener has burned piles and piles
of them ever since they began falling. I shouldn't think there would
be any left for him to burn," answered Eleanor, looking in the same
direction.
"It doesn't smell like leaves, it smells like wood, and--oh! Eleanor,
Eleanor, look! look at your window! The smoke is just pouring from it!
The house is a-fire! Run! Run! Quick! Quick!"