THE PRESCRIPTION.
Paris was as pleasant to return to as it had been to leave. The change
and rest in the country had put new life in all of the marchioness's
guests, and they were ready to go back to their duties with renewed
interest and vigor.
They found on their arrival, however, interruptions to their work more
potent than plain spring fever:--Professor Edwin Green and Kent Brown
had reached Paris the day before, intending to surprise their friends,
and had been themselves both surprised and disappointed to find the
apartment in Rue Brea closed. Miss Josephine Williams had come to the
fore with information and kindly offers of tea and _brioche_. Professor
Green was thrown into the depths of despair when he learned that the
absent ones were visiting the d'Ochtès in Normandy, and Kent could not
conceal his misery when Jo let out that Pierce Kinsella was one of the
party.
That young woman, with a feminine instinct that belied her masculine
attire, understood the two men, and divining that they were both in love
and jealous, one of Philippe and the other of Pierce, exercised the
greatest tact and succeeded in sending them off to their hotel in a much
better frame of mind. She did a great deal of quiet talking about how
boyish Pierce Kinsella was, and what a pet to the whole community, being
years younger than any of the girls. As for Philippe she touched lightly
on his evident admiration for Elise O'Brien before her marriage and
hinted that he seemed equally pleased with Frances Andrews now that
Elise was off the carpet.
As the young men walked toward their student hotel on the Boulevarde
Mont Parnesse, they agreed that Jo Bill was a pretty nice sort. They had
been so impressed by the quality of her tea and _brioche_ and her kindly
tact in telling them exactly what they wanted to hear about their lady
loves and their feared rivals, that they had forgotten to notice her
trousers and her tousled red hair and spoke only of her honest mouth and
good teeth, friendly eyes and shapely feet.
Professor Green had been threatened with a nervous breakdown and
President Walker had at the eleventh hour been able to procure a
substitute. The wise President understood very well that there was a
cure to his nervous breakdown, but that it had to be taken on the other
side of the Atlantic; so she was delighted to hasten his departure.
Edwin had telegraphed Kent of his intended sailing, and that young man
had joyously made preparations to join him in New York. He had the great
pleasure of paying a visit of condolence to his Aunt Sarah Clay, who had
at last lost her suit against the Oil Trust. He also had the pleasure of
depositing in the safety vault a goodly number of bonds for his beloved
mother, enough to insure a comfortable income to her and the certainty
that her financial worries were over forever.
"This is what I call an anticlimax," said Edwin to Kent the next morning
as they lounged on the Pont Carrousel. "We got ourselves ready for the
excitement of surprising the ladies yesterday and nothing came off, and
now this hanging around waiting has taken all the life out of me. Miss
Williams insisted we could not miss them if we guarded the Pont
Carrousel, and of course this would be the natural way for them to come
from the Gare du Nord; but things don't seem to be happening in the
natural way here, lately."
Kent looked narrowly at his friend. He did look tired and depressed, but
the voyage had done him good. He was better than he had been at
Wellington when Dr. McLean had given him a thorough going over and,
after a consultation with his wise partner (Mrs. McLean), had prescribed
an immediate sea trip as the only cure for his malady.
"Oh, buck up, old man, the worst is yet to come!" Kent gave him an
affectionate push just as a taxicab came lumbering on the far end of the
bridge and he saw a blue scarf floating in the breezes, a blue scarf
that could belong to no one but his dear sister Molly. "What did I tell
you? There they are now. Now get ready for the anticlimax that you so
scorn. I bet it will out-climax the climax!"
Judy was the first to see the young men. "Stop, stop!" she called to the
chauffeur.
"Extra charge if I stop, Mademoiselle," warned the man, slowing down his
car.
"Oh, these Frenchies!" wailed the excited girl. "They part mother and
son for three sous; and--and----" but she did not finish about whom else
they would part.
Edwin and Kent crowded in on the front seat with the greedy chauffeur,
and the happy crowd was quickly taken to the Rue Brea.
As Professor Green gazed over his shoulder into the sweet eyes of Molly
Brown, he knew that the sea trip was just exactly what he needed to
restore his failing health and that his old friend Dr. McLean was a wise
physician.
Molly, on the back seat with her mother and Judy, felt very happy. Had
she not cause to feel so? Was not her beloved brother on the seat in
front of her after being parted from them for months and months? Was not
her mother's face a picture of maternal joy to be once again near her
boy? Did not her dear friend Julia Kean frankly show her delight at
Kent's proximity? And last, and Molly tried to make herself think it the
least reason, was not her friend Professor Green rattling along in the
taxi with them with an expression in his kind eyes as they gazed into
hers that made her drop her own, fearing that hers might have the same
telltale look to him that his had to her?
Kent overpaid the chauffeur in spite of Judy's protestations and then
Professor Green came back and gave him an extra _pourboire_.
"Let us squander our hard-earned wealth if we want to, Miss Judy,"
begged Kent. "When I saw that man's round, red face looming up in front
of Molly and mother and you, it seemed to me that he looked like a
veritable cupid; and I should like to give him a good big tip just for
bringing us all together again."
"All right, but Fate ought to be tipped instead of that red-faced,
avaricious old Frenchy," laughed Judy.
What a talk they did have when they got themselves settled comfortably
in the studio, which the kindly Jo Williams and Polly Perkins had aired
and freshened up for their arrival!
Kent had to tell all the Kentucky news first, as Mrs. Brown and Molly
were eager to hear every detail concerning the loved ones at home. The
report was a good one: John and Paul were doing well in their chosen
professions; Sue was happy as a lark with her Cyrus, who was having the
"muddy lane" macadamized; a recent letter from Ernest said that he would
take his holiday in August, provided his mother and Molly would have
returned to Kentucky by that time; Aunt Clay was in a pleasant,
chastened mood, seeming rather reconciled to losing her suit; Aunt Mary,
the dear old cook, was lonesome and forlorn with "Ole Miss and Molly
Baby done gone so fer away. Looks lak I ain't got the heart to put a
livin' thing inter a pie sence they done gone an' lef' me. I cyarn't eat
fer a thinkin' what kind er messes they is puttin' in they own innerds;
an I cyarn't sleep fer thinkin' of the deep waters a rollin' betwixt
us." Mrs. Brown and Molly had to wipe their eyes at Kent's description
of the dear old darkey.
"Speaking of innerds," laughed Kent, "where are we to have luncheon?
This constant change of climate is giving me a powerful good appetite.
My only regret in regard to our crossing was that we did not come on a
German line. The French line is good enough except that they have only
four meals a day, while I am told the German has six."
"Oh, you greedy!" said Molly, giving him a little extra hug for luck.
"How would you like to have a spread in the studio? Judy and I will
gladly show you what we can do. I'll go forage right now."
"The very thing!" exclaimed Judy. "You attend to the meat and dessert,
and I'll hold up the salad end. Now, Mrs. Brown, you must rest and not
do one thing but entertain the gentlemen, while Molly and I hustle
around."
"I think the gentlemen had much better go with you and Molly and help
forage. I will lie down and take a real rest while all of you are gone,"
said Mrs. Brown with a whimsical smile.
As they went out, Kent said to Judy: "What a brick Mumsy is, anyhow!"
Edwin Green said nothing, but he thought: "Mrs. Brown's tact and
kindness are never failing."
He was eager to see Molly alone, but when they were alone he found he
had not the courage to say to her the words that were in his heart. They
talked of Wellington and their mutual friends. He had news to tell of
Richard Blount and Melissa Hathaway which gave Molly great delight.
"The mountain would not go to Mohammed, so Mohammed is going to the
mountain. There is an excellent opening for Richard in a Kentucky
mountain town, Pineville, as a railroad lawyer, and he has accepted.
Melissa has been appointed supervisor of the schools for the district,
and Miss Allfriend assures Melissa she can do more good to her beloved
mountains in this way than by merely teaching, so she has accepted. Miss
Allfriend is very happy at this outcome. She has seen her own youth go
in the uphill work and is so glad to know that Melissa is to have a life
of her own. Melissa and Richard are to be married in June."
"How splendid!" exclaimed Molly, clasping her hands and thinking what a
silly girl she had been to fancy that Professor Green might care for the
beautiful mountain girl otherwise than as a friend. "I know they will be
very happy, and I believe Melissa will not let matrimony interfere with
what she considers her life work."
"Dicky Blount declares he will never be jealous of such small things as
mountains. That is rather complimentary to me, as he did me the honor to
be jealous of me," laughed the professor.
"Why, how ridiculous!" and Molly plunged into the poultry shop, where
the blazing fire accounted to her companion for her heightened color.
The proprietor had an extra pullet on the spit roasting for a chance
customer. He pronounced it "_charmante et tendre_," and the hungry crowd
declared he was right.
The luncheon was perfect. Everyone was happy and so much talk was the
order of the day that Jo Williams poked her head in to see what the row
was about, and they made her stay to dessert; and then Polly Perkins
came to see where Jo was, and they invited him to stay to coffee.
"You have had a very successful winter, have you not?" said Edwin Green
to Mrs. Brown, while Molly and Judy cleared the table and Kent went over
to Polly's studio to see the portrait of Mrs. Pace.
"Yes, indeed, most delightful. I have been much disappointed in not
having Kent with us, and now that he has come, I must soon leave him
here and go back to all the others. They need me, especially old Aunt
Mary. I could never forgive myself if anything should happen to the old
woman while I am away. She is getting very feeble. I fancy Kent will do
well enough without me. He makes friends so easily and then dear Judy is
to be here for another year at least."
As Judy leaned over her to arrange the bowl of flowers on the table,
Mrs. Brown smiled on her as though she were already her daughter.