THE NEIGHBORS
Madam Flynt was evidently expecting Kitty. She was ready dressed and in
the drawing-room: the large, bright room with its hangings of apple
green and gold brocade, its gilded cornices and fire screen. Dr. Ross
used to say that the room was an apple-tree bower, and Madam Flynt the
apple; indeed, she did look like one, a Bellefleur, say, or a rosy
Porter. A woman of sixty, large, massive, fair. Her hair was faded from
the bright gold of her girlhood, but was still yellow; her eyes were
China blue, her cheeks apple red. The color was so set in them (no one
had ever seen Madam Flynt pale, even in sickness) that a stranger might
well think it clumsy art, instead of--what shall I say, over-zealous
Nature? The story ran that one day in her youth, walking along the
street, she heard a stranger say after passing her, "Painted, by God!"
She turned instantly.
"Yes, sir," she said calmly, "I _am_ painted by God!"
Of course this was not in Cyrus: Cyrus people knew.
"Well, Kitty!" Madam Flynt held out a large, plump white hand, amply
be-ringed. She was dressed in flowing robes of green and white, a most
un-negligent "_negligée_," and was a pleasant sight enough. "Well,
Kitty! You have to come to me, you see. I couldn't go down with the rest
of the town to meet you. I am glad to see you, my dear. We have been too
long without you, Kitty."
"Dear Madam Flynt, I am so glad to get home! How is the rheumatism?"
"The rheumatism is very well, Kitty, it thanks you: it's more vigorous
than I am; but I do very well, on the whole, very well. I get my airing,
which is the principal thing. John Tucker told you of our little
arrangement? A very good plan! John Tucker is a sensible man. He and
Sarepta are really an able pair. Pity he didn't marry her, instead of
that poor creature, Mary Spinney. You had a good voyage, my dear?"
She talked easily, Kitty following her lead.
"Glad to hear it! And now, Kitty, I hope you are going to be a sensible
girl, and do as I wish."
"As you wish, Madam Flynt? About the driving? Oh, surely! I am only too
grateful. It is so dear of you--"
"Nothing of the kind! A business arrangement, nothing more. Flanagan was
dead--I didn't kill him, did I? What I wish, Kitty, is quite another
thing. I want you to come and live with me."
"Oh, Madam Flynt!"
"There is everything to be said in favor of the plan," Madam Flynt swept
on, "and nothing against it, so far as I can see. You can manage your
home affairs, John and Sarepta, the house and so on, as well here as
there; you've only to step across the yard. I need a companion, and so
do you."
Kitty opened wide eyes of astonishment.
"Madam Flynt! Has Miss Croly left you?"
"Miss Croly left me? Certainly not. Why should she leave me? Cornelia
Croly is as old as I am, or very near it; she needs a companion, too.
She grows more set every day of her life. Just move that poker, will
you, Kitty? To the left side of the fireplace! Cornelia Croly _will_
always put it at the right; she does it to assert herself; she told me
so, in so many words. We both need a young person to keep us from biting
each other, Kitty, and you are the person."
At this point, Miss Croly entered the room, beaming welcome. Tall, thin,
upright, hard-favored, with the kindest eyes and the most obstinate chin
imaginable. Dressed in gray alpaca by day, in purple alpaca by night,
with little benefit of fashion; such was Miss Cornelia Croly, Madam
Flynt's quondam schoolmate--her companion now these many years of her
widowhood. The two made a singular contrast, yet complemented each other
oddly. Kitty could never think of one without the other. Corolla and
calyx, Dr. Ross used to call them.
Miss Croly had to hear all about Kitty's voyage; the sea had a
fascination for her, though she had never ventured upon it.
"A storm! how thrilling! the wonders of the deep!" sighed Miss Croly,
all in one breath. "You make it all so real, Kitty. I can hear the roar
of the elements and the dash of the breakers--"
As she spoke, Miss Croly had taken up the poker, and after making a dab
at the fire, was gently replacing it at the right of the fireplace, when
Madam Flynt interrupted her.
"There are no breakers in mid-ocean, Cornelia! And will you kindly leave
the poker where it was, on the left side?"
"Excuse me, my dear Clarissa, it is far more convenient on the right
side. As attending to the fire is one of my little duties--a very
pleasant one, I am sure--it seems not unreasonable for me to have the
poker where I can use it. You grant that?"
Seeing Argument throned on both brows, Kitty rose hastily and made her
excuses. She had several other visits to make; she would run in this
evening, or surely to-morrow morning. Madam Flynt was the kindest of the
kind, as she always was: yes, Kitty would think over very carefully what
she had said, and would let her know: she thanked her ever and ever so
much: good-bye! "Good-bye, Miss Croly! So glad to see you!"
Kitty shut the door on a rather awful "Cornelia!" and fled, only
stopping a moment in the kitchen to greet the two maids, friends of her
childhood, and to steal a cooky from under Sarah Cook's nose, to the
huge delight of that kindly mammoth.
Down the street sped Kitty: the dear, friendly street, where every house
smiled a welcome, every window shed a friendly blink. The Common was on
her left, a smooth field of snow, crossed by two intersecting board
walks. Every tree was a friend too: the bare, graceful branches were
moving in the crisp breeze, and each seemed to wave her a welcome. There
was the Earliest Maple! Kitty wondered what children drove their spiles
and hung their pails now for the sap. She and Tom used to be rather
odious, she feared, about that tree. They assumed ownership of all
rights in it, both tapping and climbing. She recalled a keen frosty
morning like this, when Wilson Wibird had "cut in" early, pulled out her
spile and driven in his own. Tom came like a flame of fire across the
Common, tore out the spile and threw it away, then pummeled Wilson till
he ran shrieking home. Wilson always shrieked when any one touched him.
Where next? Judge Peters would be at his office: she would go down
there. He was so wise, he would tell her what to say to Madam Flynt.
Resisting the call of many a friendly housefront, Kitty went down the
hill and turned into "the Street." There were several streets in Cyrus,
be it understood, but only one that began with a capital.
The first person she met was Wilson Wibird himself. He was on the
opposite sidewalk, and came across, waving his hand with a familiar
gesture.
"Weedy, seedy, needy, greedy!" naughty Tom! But Wilson looked exactly
the same, only a man instead of a hobbledehoy.
"Katrine! my one thought since I opened my eyes this morning. Welcome! a
hundred thousand welcomes!"
Kitty gave Wilson her hand readily enough, but she did not altogether
like his looks. His eyes were bloodshot, his speech thick; he seemed to
waver a little as he spoke.
"How do you do, Wilson? How is your mother, and Melissa?"
"Less well than I, for they have not seen you, Katrine! You are more
beautiful than ever," murmured Mr. Wibird. He cast on Kitty what he
would have called a burning glance. To Kitty it looked rather like a
leer, but she must not be unkind. But there was no earthly reason why
Wilson Wibird should hold her hand, so she removed it firmly.
"I am going to see Judge Peters," she said: her tone was cheerfully
matter-of-fact. "Give my love at home, and say I'll run in soon to see
your mother."
"My way is yours!" Mr. Wibird announced, and fell into step, to Kitty's
great annoyance. Wilson Wibird had been the butt of her childhood and
Tom's; what on earth did he mean by assuming this tone?
They were just outside the Mallow House; at this moment the door opened,
and Mr. Very Jordano came out. He had been taking his leisurely
breakfast and reading his New York paper, sitting in the office with
Marshall Mallow; and seeing the meeting between the two young people had
exchanged a word with his host and crony, and hastened out.
"Good morning, Miss Kitty!" he said urbanely. "The sight of you is a
refreshment indeed. Good morning, Wilson. Mr. Mallow would like to see
you a moment, if you have a moment to spare-pare-pare!"
Mr. Jordano's tone was faintly ironical, as he fell into step with Kitty
on the other side. Wilson Wibird glared at him.
"I have not!" he said sullenly. "I am escorting Miss Ross."
"That shall be my privilege!" Mr. Jordano bowed blandly to Kitty. "Go
away, Wilson!" he added in a lower and different tone. "Go quite
away-tay-tay! Or I'll call Billy!"
Involuntarily, Kitty quickened her pace, Mr. Jordano beside her. The
other stood glowering, irresolute: suddenly the hotel door opened again,
revealing Mr. Mallow, massive and rosy.
"You come here, Wilson!" he commanded. "Don't stand dilatorin' there!
Come on in, you hear me?"
Mr. Mallow was Wilson Wibird's uncle; Mrs. Wibird had been a Mallow:
moreover, such work as Wilson did was done for him. The young man, after
kicking the curbstone sullenly for a moment, obeyed the summons and
turned into the hotel.
Kitty turned to Mr. Jordano with a breath of relief.
"Quite so!" returned that gentleman. "He meant no harm: Wilson meant no
harm, but nimporto! Miss Kitty, I welcome this opportunity for a word
with you. You have been much in my thoughts, both during your absence
and since your return. Miss Kitty, I feel assured that you have much of
the deepest interest to impart-tart-tart. You will allow me the
privilege of calling on you, I trust, some evening in the near future?"
"Oh, surely, Mr. Jordano! I shall be very glad indeed to see you."
"You have seen my country, Miss Kitty! Ah! counterio joyoso, would I
might behold it! Italy, Miss Kitty! you have seen Italy?
"Yes, Mr. Jordano, Mother and I spent last winter in Italy."
"Ah! happy, happy--that is--" Mr. Jordano recollected himself, and
changed his look of rapture for one of sympathy-- "tender reminiscences!
tender is the word. I shall take great pleasure in waiting upon you,
Miss Kitty. It has occurred to me that you might-tite-tite--that you
might be willing to contribute some Sketches of Travel to the
_Centinel_. They would be eagerly welcomed, eagerly welcomed, by all
Cyrus and adjoining towns: the _Centinel_, you may be aware, has a
considerable circulation. Our editorials are copied--nimporto! but if
you could give me some sketches, Miss Kitty, I should regard it as a
choice boon. No laborioso, you understand; nothing that would burden
your--a--elegant leisure: a scratch of the pen, a scratch of the pen!
the light feminine touch. It would indeed be a choice boon. The
honorarium--we could arrange at a later date-tate-tate. I should wish to
be lib----"
"Oh, Mr. Jordano," cried downright Kitty, "I never wrote a word in my
life, except just letters, and very few of them. Why, I _couldn't!_ and
as for writing for a newspaper--you take my breath away! But it's just
as kind of you!" she cried. "I am ever so much obliged, Mr. Jordano. I
wish I could, but I truly could not. I know I couldn't."
"Not at all! not at all!" Mr. Jordano was still bland, in spite of his
evident disappointment. "The modesty of the sex, Miss Kitty. Perhaps you
will be good enough to think it over. A--here we are at Judge Peters's,
and I will leave you. I shall give myself the pleasure of calling--ah!
good day-tay-tay!" And the good gentleman bowed himself off, having,
indeed, stolen precious minutes from what he called the Ideals of
Italio, his special contribution to the weekly _Centinel_.
Judge Peters, like Madam Flynt, was evidently expecting Kitty: as if
every one in Cyrus were not! The office windows were as dusty as
ever--Kitty half expected to see an inscription on them in a round
childish hand:
"Tom-mee,
Duke of Lee."
--but his desk was a miracle of tidiness. His own person was not more
carefully attired than usual, because that would have been difficult: he
was the picture of a dignified jurist as he sat with his hand in the
breast of his coat, reading a law book of appalling size and weight.
His thin, somewhat austere countenance relaxed at sight of Kitty. He
rose and came forward with extended hands, grasping hers cordially.
"My dear child! welcome again! My dear Kitty, I am heartily glad to see
you."
He was: they all were: never was such a welcome, thought Kitty; another
band snapped, and she looked up into the kindly face with a smile that
was almost merry.
"Dear Judge Peters! you are so good; everybody is so good. Never was
such a home-coming--"
A little stumble here, but only for a moment. Soon they were seated
comfortably, the Judge in his chair, Kitty on a certain stool which had
been hers ever since she was big enough to visit the "Dudds" in his
office, which was long before she could speak his name plain. Kitty told
her sad little story to a running commentary of "H'm!" "ha!" or "tut,
tut!" which conveyed a sympathy that needed no words. Then the Judge
took up the thread, and they went through many matters carefully and
thoroughly. Kitty was clear-headed; he knew that; she had to know just
where she stood. Yes, yes! There was something left, only a little, but
a little was very different from nothing. Now the question was how they
were to add to that little. John and Sarepta--yes! yes! good souls! good
souls! they had consulted him. Very right, very proper. A nice little
nest-egg, and John Tucker could carry on the business perfectly. The
question was about Kitty herself. She--ah--had not heard from any of her
relatives? True! she had but one, and--they need not go into that at
present. Now, the Judge had a proposition to make: a--a business
proposition. Here was he, a lone man, sixty years old and not getting
any younger. He was lonely, very lonely, in that big house. It was
absurd that he should be lonely in one house and Kitty in another;
"absurd, you see that. Too many lonely people in Cyrus, as it is. I want
you to come and live with me, Kitty. There! now don't answer at once:
think it over! I never had a daughter of my own, but you have always
been like a daughter to me, my dear. I think we could be very
comfortable together: very comfortable. Another thing! I need help here,
in the office; a--a--in point of fact, secretary! now, if you could
manage to give me two or three hours a day--not too much; not enough to
fatigue you, or interfere with your getting plenty of fresh air and
exercise--and amusement, too, my dear, amusement, too, of course!--why,
it would be a great help and comfort to me, and the salary--" he named a
substantial sum--"would help to get--gloves, you know; fal-lals, my
dear--toggery of various descriptions. Yes! well, my dear, how does it
strike you?"
It struck Kitty as the kindest thought that ever was in the wide world.
Why was every one so good to her? Why, Madam Flynt had asked her to come
and live with her! but--
"_That_," Judge Peters struck in with some heat: "that is unnecessary!
Clarissa--Madam Flynt--has a companion already. Cornelia Croly is an
excellent person; they have lived together for twenty years; she cannot
think of discharging Cornelia Croly! Monstrous!"
"Oh, no! no, indeed, Judge! She only thought--she seemed to think--they
both needed some one a little younger--but I--oh no, indeed! I only
promised to think it over."
"H'm!" the Judge was quite flushed: he rose and paced the floor. "The
more you think it over, Kitty, the more unconscionable you will find it.
Two women, used to each other for twenty years, fitting like ball and
socket (I admit an occasional creak of the joint, but that only makes
for variety): a young girl cooped up in that house, with two elderly
women and a spaniel--monstrous, my dear! monstrous! Now my case----"
"_But!_" cried Kitty to herself, as she went down the stairs, after a
solemn promise to think it over well, "the dear old darling things! not
one of them seems to realize!"
Where next? Kitty looked up and down the street. One way was
Cheeseman's, where one of her oldest friends would be looking for her,
she knew: Mr. Cheeseman's, and the Twinnies: on the other--"Oh, I must
see Miss Egeria and Mr. Bygood before any one else!" said Kitty, and
turned back toward the Mallow House.
At Bygoods', she found the same air of happy expectation. Miss Egeria
had been fluttering to the door every five minutes all the morning,
looking up and down the street; now she came fluttering to meet Kitty,
and folded her in a tender embrace, and wept over her. Mrs. Ross had
been Miss Egeria's goddess, and for her sake, Kitty seemed to the dear
lady only half mortal. She uttered little soft moans in which "Heaven,"
"saint," "crown of glory," and the like could be distinguished. It was
Kitty who comforted her with soothing words and affectionate pats, and
soon Miss Egeria collected herself and dried her eyes.
"Forgive me, dear child!" she said. "I am so glad, Kitty, so happy to
see you! Sister is in back with Father; come right in, won't you dear?
They are so eager----"
Here was Miss Almeria herself, stately and handsome, parting the
curtains with a welcoming gesture: here was Mr. Bygood leaning forward
in his armchair, his mild eyes shining, his lips trembling with
eagerness. Such a welcome here, too, as never could be anywhere else
except in dear Cyrus.
"Mr. Bygood, you have been growing younger!" Kitty spoke with decision.
"I believe you have found the Fountain of Youth. I think you might give
me a drop!"
"No, no, my dear!" Mr. Bygood quavered in high delight. "An old hulk,
Kitty, left high and dry, high and dry.
"I came there again when the day was declining,
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone.
You remember the song, my dear?"
"Indeed I do, Mr. Bygood. You are going to sing it to me the very first
I come to tea. When may I come to tea, Miss Almegeria?" This was her
child name for the two sisters. "I want Banbury cakes, please, and apple
sauce with whipped cream."
"And fried oysters!" Miss Almeria beamed; Miss Egeria cooed, "You shall
come to-night, if you will, Kitty. To-night and--presently!" Miss
Almeria cast a warning look at her sister, on whose lips something
seemed to be trembling. "Presently, Sister! Father's turn now; ours can
wait!"
"I have brought you a little present, Mr. Bygood!" Kitty was pulling
something from her pocket; a little parcel, white tissue paper neatly
tied with blue ribbon. The old gentleman opened it with trembling
fingers. Only a bit of Derbyshire spar, Kitty explained, for the
Collection; but he exclaimed delightedly at sight of the pretty thing, a
golden egg darting rays as the sunlight struck it; surely, the Phoenix's
egg, or as near it as mortal eyes may hope to see. Kitty was thanked,
blessed, questioned, thanked again. Then she begged for a sight of Goody
Twoshoes, and got it, and Marmaduke Multiply, too, because poor Tom had
been so fond of it. Yes, poor Tom! Nobody heard from him, which was very
sad. If he had only stayed in Cyrus, Mr. Bygood said, it would have been
so much better: so much better! The old gentleman sighed, and shook his
white head, fumbling meantime in his pockets for peppermint drops.
"You know," Miss Egeria whispered to Kitty, "Father offered Thomas a
position in the store!" Her tone implied affairs of Rothschildic scope.
"It would have been such an opportunity for Thomas!"
"Hush, sister!" Miss Almeria spoke with some severity. "Thomas had his
own views; I am told he considered Cyrus slow! It is true I did not hear
him say it!" she added more gently.
"Believe half that you see and nothing that you hear!" murmured Mr.
Bygood gently. "Tom was a dear boy, Almeria!"
"Yes, Father dear! You set me right, as ever!" Miss Almeria patted his
shoulder affectionately. "We must not judge!"
"Almy is impulsive!" Mr. Bygood smiled to Kitty. "Youth is apt to be. Do
you find Cyrus changed, my dear?"
Presently he nodded, and on a sign from the ladies, Kitty stole into the
front shop with them. Here they unfolded their great plan, which was
just like all the rest. Kitty was to come and live with them: to be
their--their younger sister, as it were. They had a little room--the
blue room! Kitty remembered? She used to like it. It was never used, and
it would be _such_ a happiness to them! She could help in the store--it
was so interesting, Kitty, and truly educational, with the Library and
all.
"The gentlemen come in, too, for their morning paper, my dear, and
discuss affairs of National Importance! I assure you, we feel that we
have _great_ opportunities, and I trust we are not ungrateful for them.
Our gentlemen have such _sound_ opinions! When I hear Judge Peters and
Mr. Jordano exchange their views on public affairs, and dear Father adds
his word of ripe experience, you know, Kitty, my dear, I feel that we
are privileged, indeed!"
Thus Miss Almeria, bending her stately head in emphasis.
"So you _will_ come, Kitty darling, won't you?" begged Miss Egeria; "at
least think it over well; we feel that we have as much claim as any of
the friends, and--perhaps--I cannot help feeling, my love, as if our
dear departed Saint might have wished----"
"But!" cried Kitty, again, as after promising gratefully to think it
over, she took her way to Cheeseman's, "the dear, kind, darling things!
Nobody seems to realize that I have come home, to my own house!"