JOHANNA EX MACHINA
Kitty had her dinner alone, for Nelly Chanter's school was at some
distance.
"Besides," said Sarepta, "I only asked her to come for breakfast and
supper and nights. You'd want _some_ time to yourself, I told her."
Sarepta stood in the doorway, her hands folded in her apron, while Kitty
ate her excellent little dinner soberly and thoughtfully. She had no
idea of slighting Sarepta's cookery; she had a good appetite, and even
if she hadn't, there must be no hurting of feelings.
"Sarepta!"
"Well!"
"The pudding is delicious, Sarepta! And--they all want me to come and
live with them!"
"H'm!" Sarepta's sniff was eloquent. Kitty went on, crumbling her bread
thoughtfully:
"Madam Flynt, Judge Peters, the Miss Bygoods, the Chanters----"
She smiled, still hearing the affectionate shouts and shrieks of that
friendly circle, still seeing the dining-room where she had found them
all, Mrs. Chanter ladling out chowder, beaming on her clamorous brood,
Mr. Chanter with half an eye on his plate, and one and a half on the
dog's-eared Thucydides beside him. How affectionate they were; what good
friends! "And Mr. Mallow wants me to keep house for him, Sarepta; think
of it! Why, he has always said he wouldn't have any woman gormineering
over him; ever since I can remember he has said that. And now he thinks
he would be as comfortable as old Tilley if I would come and be his lady
housekeeper! Who was old Tilley, Sarepta?"
"Some other old fool, I expect!" Sarepta was very grim. "If you asked
me, I should say Marsh Mallow was a little wantin'. The idea!"
"The funny thing is, none of them seems to realize that I have a home of
my own! Isn't it funny, Sarepta? So dear and kind, every one of
them--why, I am so full of gratefulness I couldn't hold any more!--but
how _can_ they think I would leave my own dear darling home?"
Sarepta Darwin drew a long breath, and blinked fiercely. If it had been
any one but Sarepta, one would have said there were tears in those pale
blue eyes, but of course Sarepta never shed tears.
"Then you calc'late to stay on here!" she spoke dryly, but there was
something in her tone that made Kitty look up quickly.
"Why, Sarepta, of course I do! What else should I do! Don't be a goose,
Sarepta dear!"
She got up and gave Sarepta a little hug: she might as well have hugged
the door for all outward response, but that did not matter.
"Who--_what_ is that, Sarepta?" she demanded, as a figure came up the
path. "It looks like a postman!"
"Is! we've had d'liv'ry for a year past!"
There was exultation in Sarepta's voice. Next to the well-being of Ross
House and its inmates, she lived for the greater glory of Cyrus.
"Why, it's Bingo!"
Kitty was at the front door in a flash, greeting a highly embarrassed
youth in gray uniform. "Bingo, how do you do? To think of your being
postman! How splendid!"
"Pleased to see you!" muttered Adolphus Evander Byng, who had never had
any benefit of his fine name, but was called Addy Evy for long and Bingo
for short, as Tom used to say. "Hope I see you well. Letter for you!
Goo'day!"
Thus Bingo, hurling himself away from the door, as if he had not been
looking forward all day to this moment; as if he had not solemnly
promised his Aunt Miny, who "dressmade" as we say in Cyrus, to notice
every single thing Kitty Ross had on, coming straight from Paris that
way. There was a painful scene that evening at the Byng cottage. Gray
dress? Well, what kind of a gray dress? Was it silk, or wool, or
melange? Did it do up behind? Was it made D'rectory? Was there gores in
the skirt? Here Addy Evy fled to the barn, and his Aunt Miny did think
he was real mean; she despised any one who hadn't eyes in his head, be
he man or woman: there!
Kitty came back with her letter, turning it over, as people do, before
opening it. A large square envelope, superscribed in a stiff,
official-looking hand.
"From Aunt Johanna!" she said. "It is surely her hand. I wonder----"
She opened the letter; read it; looked up with a dazed expression at
Sarepta, who was lingering by the door with an air of elaborate
detachment.
"Why, Sarepta! why----"
"_Well_," Sarepta's tone was incisive, to say the least.
"It has been delayed!" Kitty looked at the envelope. "Missent to
'Cyrene'! I should think so. Why, Sarepta, this was written a week ago!
She's coming to-day!"
"Who's comin'? Not Johanna Ross?"
"Yes!" Kitty rose in agitation and began instinctively straightening
everything in the room.
"You no need to do _that_!" Sarepta spoke grimly, with looks to match.
"I went to school with Johanna Ross. She comin' to-day, you say? How
long she goin' to stay?"
"She says--I'll read it to you.
"MY DEAR KITTY,
"I am retiring from business and should like to make you a visit
if agreeable. Ask Sarepta to find a young girl to take care of
me. Unless otherwise advised, expect me at 2.30 Saturday P. M.
"Affectionately yours,
"JOHANNA ROSS."
"Sarepta, it's two o'clock now! What room shall we put her in? I can't
think----"
Kitty's voice was trembling, her cheeks flushed. Seeing this, Sarepta
assumed her dryest manner and tone.
"Put her in the Red Injun room. It's all ready: I cleaned it last week."
"Of course!" Kitty's brow lightened. "Clever Sarepta! The Red Indian
room will be _just_ the thing. Let's come up and look at it! Of course
it's all right, but actually I haven't been in it. Why, I haven't been
here two days, Sarepta!"
Her voice quivered again, but she mastered it, and hurried upstairs with
Sarepta close behind her.
"I wouldn't let Johanna Ross put me out," Sarepta remarked, apparently
addressing the stair-rail, "not for one quarter of a second."
Kitty made no reply. Sarepta, who certainly was "no canny," Kitty often
thought, appeared to read her thought through the back of her head.
"But you needn't be scared," she went on. "I know my place. I'm just
freein' my mind, so to speak. I went to school with Johanna, and I know
her like a book. She's a fine woman in spots, and she's Doctor's sister.
I know my place, and she knows hers; you no need to be scared."
Kitty turned and flashed such a look of mingled relief and thankfulness
that Sarepta almost stumbled.
"Go on up!" she said austerely.
Before ever I saw the Red Indian room, I used to think--hearing it
casually mentioned by Kitty or Tom--it was in some way connected with
the North American Indians. I used to wonder about it: whether it were
shaped and furnished like a wigwam; whether Indians had ever lived in
it; whether--dreadful thought, born of too-early reading of Parkman's
histories--there had been a Massacre there! I remember that when Kitty
proposed a visit to it one day, as being the most convenient way of
attaining the barn roof, I inwardly shrank and cowered, dreading what
might meet my eyes. The relief of the first glance is still with me.
Dr. Ross's grandfather had been a sea-captain, and had brought home from
China a wonderful toilet set of Red India china. There it was, still
perfect, not so much as a cover broken; there it is to-day, I trust. The
room had been furnished to match the set, with hangings and cushions,
bedspread, etcetera, of Eastern cotton, almost the exact shade of warm
dull red; the chairs were lacquered in the same tint. An enchanting
room! And its possibilities! Not only did one of its windows give access
to the barn roof, but the little red-lacquered door beside the fireplace
opened upon the Secret Staircase, the pride of Kitty's heart, the envy
of every other child in Cyrus. A little winding, breakneck stair,
burrowing down in the thickness of the chimney casing. You could come
out in the sitting-room if you wished, but we never did; the staircase
burrowed still further downward, and the cellar was far more exciting.
"'Twill suit with Johanna's looks!" said Sarepta, after a critical
survey of the room. "Come to think of it, I believe she had this room
when she was a gal. It'll be real handy for her, bathroom and all to
herself, and no need to bother you. Yes, I expect she'll like it. Hark!"
The sound of wheels. Kitty fled down the stairs, Sarepta scuttling
behind her as fast as dignity allowed, and threw open the front door.
"Aunt Johanna! Come in! come in! How good of you to come!"
"But you wish I hadn't, eh? Never mind, Kitty! Will John Tucker see to
my trunks? How are you, Sarepta?"
Miss Johanna Ross might be forty-five, but looked younger. A tall, fine
figure of a woman, with dark eyes and hair, the former of a singularly
piercing quality. Kitty felt, she told Nelly Chanter afterward, as if at
the first glance her spinal marrow had been investigated. She was
handsomely and fashionably dressed, and carried a satchel of the latest
mode. Her voice was deep-toned, her speech as incisive as Sarepta's own,
her gestures and carriage impressive. Such was the lady who now
confronted Kitty in the sitting room.
"You got my letter last week?" she said. "Has Sarepta got a young woman
for me?"
"No, Aunt Johanna. The letter was missent, you see: it only came an hour
ago."
"Missent? Inexcusable! I'll write to the Post Office Department. Well! I
may as well explain matters at once, Kitty; Sarepta, you'd better wait a
minute, as this concerns you also."
Miss Ross sat down on the leather sofa, and looked thoughtfully from
Kitty to Sarepta, and back again. "I haven't been here for twenty
years," she said. "I am actually glad I came!" She seemed surprised at
this, and pondered a moment. Sarepta sniffed slightly: Kitty was silent,
hardly knowing what to say.
"I have retired from business," Miss Ross went on in a clear,
explanatory voice, "because I am tired. I intend to take to my bed--What
is it?" She paused: Kitty had uttered a cry of surprise.
"Nothing, Aunt Johanna. Did I understand--are you ill, Aunt Johanna?"
"Not in the least. I have never been ill in my life, except for measles
at the age of five. I tell you I am tired, and I intend to take to my
bed. For twenty years," Miss Ross went on, still more explanatorily, "I
have been Rug and Tapestry Expert for Kostly and Richmore:" she named
one of the great houses of New York. "During these twenty years I have
been on my feet all day, and often half the night. I have now
retired--on a competence--and, as I said before, I intend to take to my
bed. I am used to wholesale ways," she added with a smile. "I have
worked in a wholesale way; now I mean to rest in a wholesale way. Have
you found me a maid, Sarepta?"
"Land sakes!" cried Sarepta, throwing her hands out in indignant
protest. "Why, it ain't an hour since we heard you was coming!"
"True!" Miss Ross paused and considered. "Well! I suppose you can find
me one?"
"I dunno as I can, and I dunno _as_ I can!" replied Sarepta cautiously.
"What do you want of her, Miss Ross?"
Miss Ross laughed outright, a merry laugh which somehow transformed her
rather sharp face.
"To take care of me, Miss Darwin! You don't suppose I expected you to
take care of me, do you? Find me a young girl, whom I can order about,
and send on errands and bully, and throw things at. I couldn't throw the
bolster at you, Miss Darwin!"
"You might try!" Sarepta replied with a grim chuckle, and a distinct
softening of the frosty manner which had been upon her ever since the
visitor entered. She looked at Kitty. "Jenny Tucker might do!" she said
doubtfully. "She's sixteen, and takes after her father more than the
rest."
"Jenny! That's a good name to call," Miss Ross nodded approvingly. "John
Tucker's daughter, is she? That's good, too. John and I were always
friends. Is she pretty?"
"Pretty enough, I guess."
"Then send for her, will you? I won't go to bed now, Kitty. You shall
come and help me unpack, and we'll have supper together--if Miss Darwin
approves----" she threw a quizzical glance at Sarepta, who gave a snort
and vanished--"and a cosy evening by the fire. You shall tell me
everything you like, my dear, and nothing you don't like, and at ten
o'clock I shall go to bed and stay there."
"Aunt Johanna----"
"Yes, my dear! How delightful this room is! What is it, Kitty?"
"Do you mean--do you think of taking a _long_ rest, or only a few days?"
"One year!" said Miss Ross crisply. Kitty gasped. "That is, if I find it
suits me. Six months anyhow, to give it a full trial. That seems
sensible, eh?" She looked up sharply. "Eh?" she repeated.
"Oh, I--suppose so!" stammered Kitty. "Only--it seems a very long time,
Aunt Johanna. You see, I have never been ill."
"Nor tired!" Miss Ross spoke in short, sharp jerks, throwing up her chin
with each remark. "You think you have been tired, but you haven't. I
tell you, _the marrow is withered in my bones_. You say I don't look it,
and I don't; every one says so. Last month, one of our partners asked me
to open a branch in Nijninovgorod; said I looked strong enough for that
or anything. Last week," this astonishing lady went on, "another of 'em
asked me to marry him, because I looked as if I could take good care of
him. That settled it! 'I'll take to my bed!' says I; and here I am.
Well! that's enough about me. Now about you! Poor little White Rose
couldn't stay any longer, could she? No! not to be expected. She
couldn't live without John; she had merged her existence in his, you
see. You did all you could, and the look you have of John probably kept
her alive till now; but it couldn't last. No! So here you are, with
Sarepta and John Tucker--and me!" she added with a sharp, quizzical
glance. "What are your ideas? What are your plans? Is there any money
left?"
Kitty told her quietly what there was: told, too, of Sarepta's and John
Tucker's earnings and of the proposed partnership with the latter. She
found it singularly easy to talk to this relative whom she had hitherto
known so slightly and seen so seldom. Miss Ross sat bolt upright on the
sofa, listening intently, nodding emphatic approval from time to time.
"Excellent!" she said, when Kitty had finished her story. "Admirable!
With my board money and your earnings, you ought to be able to lay by,
my dear."
"Oh, Aunt Johanna!" Kitty lifted a shocked face. "I couldn't--you
mustn't think of such a thing. Why, this is your own home, where you
were born! Why should you pay board here?"
"Little goose, why do you suppose I came here? Why didn't I go to a Rest
Cure? 'Because,' I said, 'why pay good money to strangers and harpies
when I can pay it to my own lawful niece in my own--not precisely
lawful, because it belongs to her--but my natural home?' Enough about
that. Besides, there was another reason. I wanted to _do what I wanted_,
Kitty! For twenty years I have lived in a mold, worked in a mold, spoken
in a mold, smiled in a mold. Now the mold is broken. I want to be able,
if I feel like it, to fling open all the windows in this house--there
are forty of them, I believe--and scream out of each one. Can you
understand that?"
"Perfectly!" cried Kitty kindling.
"Exactly! You are a Ross, I see. Well! I shall not be likely to do that,
because I shall be in my bed; but if I did, or whatever I might do, the
neighbors would just say, 'Johanna! always peculiar!' and there would be
an end of it."
"Aunt Johanna!" Kitty came and sat down by her aunt. "Do you know what I
think?"
"No, my dear, unless you think I am mad. I'm not, only a bit cracked,
like most people."
"I think you are a dear! I think--I should like to give you a hug!"
Suiting the action to the word, Kitty threw her arms round her aunt, who
returned the embrace heartily.
"Good little girl!" she said, and her clear emphatic voice was rather
husky. "Nice little girl! We shall get on famously together."
"And--" Kitty's eyes were opening very wide, as they always did when a
new idea dawned upon her. "Why, Aunt Johanna, you are just like all the
rest, only reversed."
"What do you mean, Kitty? Speak English, child!"
"Why, every one in the village, all the dear friends and neighbors, want
me to come and live with them. Madam Flynt, Judge Peters, Miss Bygoods,
the Chanters--and Mr. Mallow"--Kitty broke into a little crow of
laughter--"wants me to be his housekeeper and matron! Well! and now you
come, with the same dear wish to help me, at the other end. And, _oh_!"
Kitty, jumping up, clapped her hands and actually began to dance, "Don't
you _see_, Aunt Johanna, here is my answer to them all. They were all
_so_ kind, and so urgent, I didn't know _what_ to say to them, though of
course nothing would have induced me to leave my dear darling home. But
now, don't you see, I _can't_ go to any of them, because of----"
"Because of bedridden aunt! Precisely. _Johanna ex machina._ I learned
my Latin of Mr. Bygood, my dear; he taught at the Academy when I was a
girl. Well! so _that_ is all settled. They all wanted my little niece,
eh? And I've stolen a march on 'em. Ha! ha! and now, Kitty, I should
like to see my room and unpack a bit. I thought possibly, my dear, you
might spare me the Red Indian room, which used to be mine, but I can
sleep anywhere."
"It is all ready for you!" cried Kitty joyously. "Oh, Aunt Johanna, you
_are_ a dear, and you really belong, and I am so happy!"
The last band snapped from Kitty's heart, and she led the way joyously
upstairs.