sign of the inn. This was a tall post with a small square frame hanging
from a transverse beam, and seated on the lower strip of the frame was a
large stuffed gray squirrel. Every spring Stephen Petter took down this
squirrel and put up a new one. The old squirrels were fastened up side
by side on a ledge in the taproom, and by counting them one could find
out how many years the inn had been kept.
[Illustration: THE SIGN.]
Directly below the bluff on which the house stood were Stephen Petter's
grassy meadows and his fields of grain and corn, and in the rich
pastures, or in the shade of the trees standing by the bank of the rapid
little stream that ran down from the woodlands, might be seen his flocks
and his herds. By nature he was a very good farmer, and his agricultural
method he had not derived from his books. There were people who
said--and among these Calthea Rose expressed herself rather better than
the others--that Mr. Petter's farm kept him, while he kept the Squirrel
Inn.
When it had become known that the Squirrel Inn was ready to receive
guests, people came from here and there; not very many of them, but
among them were the Rockmores of Germantown. This large family, so it
appeared to Stephen Petter, was composed of the kind of fellow-beings
with whom he wished to associate. Their manners and ways seemed to him
the manners and ways of the people he liked to read about, and he
regarded them with admiration and respect. He soon discovered from their
conversation that they were connected or acquainted with leading
families in our principal Eastern cities, and it became his hope that he
and his Squirrel Inn might become connected with these leading families
by means of the Rockmores of Germantown.
As this high-classed family liked variety in their summer outings, they
did not come again to the Squirrel Inn, but the effect of their
influence remained strong upon its landlord. He made up his mind that
those persons who did not know the Rockmores of Germantown did not move
in those circles of society from which he wished to obtain his guests,
and therefore he drew a line which excluded all persons who did not
possess this acquaintanceship.
This rule was very effectual in preventing the crowding of his house,
and, indeed, there were summers when he had no guests at all; but this
did not move Stephen Petter. Better an empty house than people outside
the pale of good society.
VI
THE GREEK SCHOLAR
Mrs. Cristie and her baby were warmly welcomed by Stephen Petter and his
wife. They had learned during her former visit to like this lady for
herself, and now that she came to them a widow their sentiments towards
her were warmer than ever.
Mrs. Petter wondered very much why she had come without a maid, but
fearing that perhaps the poor lady's circumstances were not what they
had been she forbore to ask any immediate questions. But in her heart
she resolved that, if she kept her health and strength, Mrs. Cristie
should not be worn out by that child.
The young widow was charmed to find herself once more at the Squirrel
Inn, for it had been more like a home to her than any place in which she
had lived since her marriage, but when she went to her room that night
there was a certain depression on her spirits. This was caused by the
expected advent on the next day of Mr. Lodloe and a wagon-load of
candidates for the nurse-maidship.
The whole affair annoyed her. In the first place it was very awkward to
have this young man engaged in this service for her; and now that he was
engaged in it, it would be, in a manner, under her auspices that he
would arrive at the Squirrel Inn. The more she thought of the matter the
more it annoyed her. She now saw that she must announce the coming of
this gentleman. It would not do for him to make a totally unexpected
appearance as her agent in the nurse-maid business.
But no worry of this sort could keep her awake very long, and after a
night of sound and healthful sleep she told her host and hostess, the
next morning at breakfast, of the Mr. Lodloe who had kindly undertaken
to bring her a nurse-maid.
"Lodloe," repeated Mr. Petter. "It strikes me that I have heard the
Rockmores mention that name. Is it a Germantown family?"
"I really do not know," answered Mrs. Cristie; "he is from New York."
Here she stopped. She was of a frank and truthful nature, and very much
wished to say that she knew nothing whatever of Mr. Lodloe, but she was
also of a kindly and grateful disposition, and she very well knew that
such a remark would be an extremely detrimental one to the young man;
so, being in doubt, she resolved to play trumps, and in cases like this
silence is generally trumps.
Mrs. Petter had a mind which could project itself with the rapidity of
light into the regions of possibilities, and if the possibilities
appeared to her desirable her mind moved at even greater velocity. It
was plain to her that there must be something between this young widow
and the young man who was going to bring her a nurse-maid; and if this
were the case, nothing must be allowed to interfere with the admission
of said young man as a guest at the Squirrel Inn.
[Illustration: A GREEK IN AN OUTHOUSE.]
Mrs. Cristie did not want to talk any more on this subject. Nothing
would have pleased her better at that moment than to hear that Mr.
Lodloe had been unable to find her a suitable girl and that business had
called him to New York.
"Mr. Petter," she exclaimed, "I was told yesterday that you kept a Greek
in an outhouse. What on earth does that mean?"
Here Mrs. Petter laughed abruptly, and Mr. Petter slightly lifted his
brow.
"Who could have told you such nonsense?" he said. "There is no Greek
here. It is true that a Greek scholar lives in my summer-house, but that
is very different from keeping a Greek in an outhouse."
"And he's always late to breakfast," said Mrs. Petter; "I believe if we
sat down at the table at nine o'clock he would come in just as we were
finishing."
"How does it happen," said Mrs. Cristie, "that he lives in the
summer-house?"
"He does not know the Rockmores of Germantown," said Mrs. Petter.
"He is a man of learning," remarked Stephen Petter, "with a fine mind;
and although I have made a rule which is intended to keep up the
reputation of this house to a desirable level, I do not intend, if I can
help it, that my rules shall press pinchingly, oppressively, or
irritatively upon estimable persons. Such a person is Mr. Tippengray,
our Greek scholar; and although his social relations are not exactly up
to the mark, he is not a man who should be denied the privileges of this
house, so far as they can be conscientiously given him. So you see, Mrs.
Cristie, that, although I could not take him into the inn, there was no
reason why I should not fit up the summer-house for him, which I did,
and I believe he likes it better than living in the house with us."
"Like it!" exclaimed Mrs. Petter; "I should say he did like it. I
believe it would drive him crazy if he had to keep regular hours like
other people; but here he is now. Hester, bring in some hot cakes. Mrs.
Cristie, allow me to introduce Mr. Tippengray."
[Illustration: MR. TIPPENGRAY.]
The appearance of the Greek scholar surprised Mrs. Cristie. She had
expected to see a man in threadbare black, with a reserved and bowed
demeanor. Instead of this, she saw a bright little gentleman in neat
summer clothes, with a large blue cravat tied sailor fashion. He was not
a young man, although his hair being light the few portions of it which
had turned gray were not conspicuous. He was a man who was inclined to
listen and to observe rather than to talk, but when he had anything to
say he popped it out very briskly.
Mr. Petter, having finished his breakfast, excused himself and retired,
and Mrs. Petter remarked to Mr. Tippengray that she was sorry he had not
taken his evening meal with them the day before.
"I took such a long walk," said the Greek scholar, "that I concluded to
sup in Lethbury."
"Those Lethbury people usually take tea at five," said his hostess.
"But I'm not a Lethbury person," said he, "and I took my tea at seven."
Mrs. Petter looked at him with twinkles in her eyes.
"Of course you went to the hotel," she said.
Mr. Tippengray looked at her with twinkles in his eyes.
"Madam," said he, "have you noticed that those large blue-jays that were
here in the spring have almost entirely disappeared. I remember you used
to object to their shrill pipes."
"Which is as much as to say," said Mrs. Petter, "you don't care to
mention where you took tea yesterday."
"Madam," said Mr. Tippengray, "the pleasure of taking breakfast here
to-day effaces the memory of all former meals."
"The truth of it is," said Mrs. Petter to Mrs. Cristie, when they had
left the table, "Calthea Rose gave him his tea, and he don't want to say
so. She's mightily taken with him, for he is a fine-minded man, and it
isn't often she gets the chance of keeping company with that kind of a
man. I don't know whether he likes her liking or not, but he don't care
to talk about it."
Her first day at the Squirrel Inn was not altogether a pleasant one for
Bertha Cristie. In spite of the much-proffered service of Mrs. Petter
the care of her baby hampered her a good deal; and notwithstanding the
delights of her surroundings her mind was entirely too much occupied
with wondering when Mr. Lodloe would arrive with his wagon-load of
girls, and what she would have to say to him and about him when he did
arrive.
[Illustration]
VII
ROCKMORES AHEAD
It was late in the afternoon of the day after Mrs. Cristie reached the
Squirrel Inn that she slowly trundled the little carriage containing the
baby towards the end of the bluff beneath which stretched the fair
pastures where were feeding Mr. Petter's flocks and herds. All day she
had been looking for the arrival of the young man who had promised to
bring her some candidates for the position of child's nurse, and now she
was beginning to believe that she might as well cease to expect him. It
was an odd sort of service for a comparative stranger voluntarily to
undertake, and it would not be at all surprising if he had failed in his
efforts or had given up his idea of coming to the Squirrel Inn.
Having philosophized a little on the subject, and having succeeded in
assuring herself that after all the matter was of no great importance,
and that she should have attended to it herself, and must do it the next
day, she was surprised to find how glad she was when, turning, she saw
emerging from the woodland road a one-horse wagon with Mr. Lodloe
sitting by the driver, and a female figure on the back seat.
The latter proved to be a young person who at a considerable distance
looked about fourteen years old, although on a nearer and more careful
view she would pass for twenty, or thereabouts. She wore a round straw
hat with a white ribbon, and a light-colored summer suit with a broad
belt, which held a large bunch of yellow flowers with brown centers. She
had a cheerful, pleasant countenance, and large brown eyes which seemed
to observe everything.
As the wagon approached, Mrs. Cristie rapidly pushed her baby-carriage
towards the house. Before she reached it the young girl had jumped to
the ground, and was advancing towards her.
"I suppose this is Mrs. Cristie," said the newcomer. "I am Ida
Mayberry"; and she held out her hand. Without a word Mrs. Cristie shook
hands with the nurse-maid.
"I think," said the latter, "before we have any talk I would better go
to my room and freshen myself up a little. I am covered with dust"; and
then she turned to the driver of the wagon and gave him directions in
regard to a medium-sized trunk, a large flat box, and several long
packages tied up in brown muslin, which had been strapped to the back of
the wagon. When these had been taken into the inn, she followed them.
As Mr. Lodloe approached Mrs. Cristie, hat in hand, she exclaimed in a
tone which she was not in the habit of using to comparative strangers,
in which category sober reflection would certainly have placed the
gentleman:
[Illustration: "I SUPPOSE THIS IS MRS. CRISTIE."]
"Will you please to tell me what is the meaning of this? Who is that
girl, and where did she come from?"
"Madam," said Lodloe, in a deprecatory tone, "I can scarcely pick up the
courage to say so, but that is the nurse-maid."
"And you brought her to me?" exclaimed Mrs. Cristie.
"I did," he answered.
"Did you get her in Romney?"
"No," said Lodloe; "there wasn't a girl of any sort or kind to be had
there. I was obliged to go to New York for one."
"To New York!" cried the astonished Mrs. Cristie.
"Madam," said Lodloe, "let me propose that we retire a little from the
house. Perhaps her room may be somewhere above us."
And the two having walked a short distance over the lawn, he continued:
"I really believe that I have done a very foolish thing, but having
promised to do you a service I greatly disliked not to keep my word. I
could find no one in Romney, and of course the only way to get you a
girl was to go to New York; and so I went there. My idea was to apply to
one of those establishments where there are always lots of maids of all
grades, and bring one to you. That was the way the matter appeared to
me, and it seemed simple enough. On the ferryboat I met Mrs. Waltham, a
lady I know very well, who is a member of the Monday Morning Club, and a
great promoter of college annexes for girls, and all that sort of thing;
and when I asked her advice about the best intelligence office, she told
me to keep away from all of them, and to go instead to a teachers'
agency, of which she gave me the address, where she said I would be
almost sure to find some teacher who wanted occupation during the
holidays."
"A teacher!" cried Mrs. Cristie.
"Yes," said Lodloe; "and you may be sure that I was as much surprised as
you are. But Mrs. Waltham assured me that a great many women teachers
found it necessary to make money during the summer, and were glad to do
anything, just as college students wait at hotels. The more she talked
about it the more she got interested in it, and the matter resulted in
her going to the agency with me. Mrs. Waltham is a heavy swell in
educational circles, and as she selected this girl herself I said not a
word about it, except to hurry up matters so that the girl and I could
start on an early afternoon train."
"Never in my life!" ejaculated Mrs. Cristie.
"Madam," interrupted Lodloe, "I beg you not to say what you intended. It
is impossible for you to feel as badly about it as I do. Just to think
of it stuns me. Did you see her baggage? She has come to stay all
summer. There is no earthly reason to think she will suit you. I don't
suppose she ever saw a baby."
Mrs. Cristie's mind was still filled with surprise and vexation, but she
could not help laughing at Mr. Lodloe's comical contrition.
"I will see her presently," she said; "but in the mean time what are you
going to do? There is Mr. Petter standing in the doorway waiting for
your approach, and he will ask you a lot of questions."
"About the Germantown family, I suppose," said Lodloe.
"Yes," said Mrs. Cristie; "that will be one of them."
"Well, I don't know them," said Lodloe, "and that's the end of it."
"By no means," said the lady, quickly; "Mr. Petter has on his most
impressive air. You must go and talk to him, and it will not do to sneer
at the Rockmores."
"If it is absolutely necessary to have credentials in order to secure
quarters here," said Lodloe, "I don't see what is to be done about it."
"Come with me," said Mrs. Cristie, quickly; "you have put yourself to a
great deal of trouble for me, and I will see what I can do for you."
When Walter Lodloe and Mr. Petter had been formally introduced to each
other, the brow of the latter bore marks of increased trouble and
uncertainty. From the confidential aspect of the interview between Mrs.
Cristie and the young man, the landlord of the inn had begun to suspect
what his wife had suspected, and it galled his spirit to think of
putting his usual test question to this friend of Mrs. Cristie. But he
was a man of principle, and he did not flinch.
"Are you from Philadelphia, sir," he asked, "or its vicinity?"
"No," said Lodloe; "I am from New York."
[Illustration: LODLOE IS INTRODUCED TO STEPHEN PETTER.]
"A great many Philadelphia people," continued the landlord, "or those
from its vicinity, are well known in New York, and in fact move in
leading circles there. Are you acquainted, sir, with the Rockmores of
Germantown?"
Mrs. Petter now appeared in the doorway, her face clouded. If Mrs.
Cristie had known the Rockmores she would have hastened to give Mr.
Lodloe such advantages as an acquaintance in the second degree might
afford. But she had never met any member of that family, the valuable
connection being entirely on the side of her late husband.
"I did not know," said Lodloe, "that you required credentials of
respectability, or I might have brought a lot of letters."
"One from Matthew Vassar?" said Mrs. Cristie, unable to resist her
opportunity.
"Were you acquainted with Matthew Vassar?" interpolated Mrs. Petter with
energetic interest. "He was a great and good man, and his friends ought
to be good enough for anybody. Now put it to yourself, Stephen. Don't
you think that the friends of Matthew Vassar, the founder of that
celebrated college, known all over the world, a man who even after his
day and generation is doing so much good, are worthy to be accommodated
in this house?"
Mr. Petter contracted his brows, looked upon the ground, and interlaced
his fingers in front of him.
"The late Mr. Matthew Vassar," said he, "was truly a benefactor to his
kind, and a man worthy of all respect; but when we come to consider the
way in which the leading circles of society are made up--"
"Don't consider it at all," cried Mrs. Petter. "If this gentleman is a
friend of Mrs. Cristie, and is backed up by Matthew Vassar, you cannot
turn him away. If you want to get round the Rockmores you can treat him
just as you treat Mr. Tippengray. Let him have the top room of the
tower, which, I am sure, is as pleasant as can be, especially in warm
weather, and then he will have his own stairs to himself, and can come
in and go out just as Mr. Tippengray does, without ever considering
whether the Squirrel Inn is open or shut. As for eating, that's a
different matter. People can eat in a place without living there. That
was all settled when we took Mr. Tippengray."
An expression of decided relief passed over the face of Mr. Petter.
"It is true," he said, "that in the case of Mr. Tippengray we made an
exception to our rule--"
"That's so," interrupted Mrs. Petter; "and as I have heard that
exceptions prove a rule, the more of them we have the better. And if the
top room suits Mr. Lodloe, I'll have it made ready for him without
waiting another minute."
Mr. Lodloe declared that any room into which the good lady might choose
to put him would suit him perfectly; and that matter was settled.
VIII
MISS MAYBERRY
About five minutes after Walter Lodloe had departed for his loft chamber
Miss Ida Mayberry made her appearance in the front doorway. She had
changed her dress, and looked very bright and fresh.
"Isn't this a pretty place?" she said, approaching Mrs. Cristie. "I
think I shall like it ever so much. And that is your baby? Is it a boy
or a girl?"
"A boy," was the answer.
"And his name?"
"Douglas."
"I like that sort of name," remarked Miss Mayberry; "it is sensible and
distinctive. And now I wish you would tell me exactly what you want me
to do."
Mrs. Cristie spoke nervously.
"Really," said she, "I am afraid that there has been a mistake. I want
an ordinary nurse-maid, and Mr. Lodloe could not have understood--"
"Oh, don't trouble yourself about that," said the other. "I understand
perfectly. You will find me quite practical. What I don't know I can
learn. My mental powers need a change of channel, and if I can give them
this change, and at the same time make some money, I am sure I ought to
be satisfied."
"But it seems to me," said Mrs. Cristie, "that one who is by profession
a teacher would scarcely--"
"Perhaps not, years ago," interrupted the other; "but things are
different now. Look at all the young college fellows who work during
vacation, and we are beginning to do it, too. Now you will find me just
as practical as anybody. Nine months in the year I teach,--moral and
mental philosophy are my special branches,--and during vacation I am not
going to wear out my brain in a summer school, nor empty my purse by
lounging about in idleness. Now what could be better than for me to come
to a perfectly lovely place like this, which I fancy more and more every
minute, and take care of a nice little child, which, I am sure, will be
a pleasure in itself, and give me a lot of time to read besides?
However, I wish you to understand, Mrs. Cristie, that I am never going
to neglect the baby for the sake of study or reading."
"But have you thought seriously of the position in which this would
place you?"
"Oh, yes," was the answer; "but that is a disadvantage that has to be
accepted, and I don't mind it. Of course I wouldn't go to anybody and
everybody, but when a lady is recommended by a friend of Mrs. Waltham's,
I wouldn't hesitate to make an engagement with her. As to salary, I will
take whatever you would pay to another nurse-maid, and I beg you will
not make the slightest difference because I am a teacher. Is that bell
for supper?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Cristie; "and perhaps you have not yet reflected that
my nurse-maid must take care of my baby while I am at my meals."
"That is precisely and exactly what she is going to do. Go in to your
supper, and I will push him about until you come out again. Then you can
show me how to put him to bed."
"Isn't she coming in?" asked Mrs. Petter, looking out of the window as
she took her seat at the table.
"Of course not," said Mrs. Cristie, in a tone which was intended to make
an impression on Mr. Lodloe; "my maids do not eat with me."
"But, goodnessfulme!" said Mrs. Petter, "you can't look upon that sort
of a young woman as a servant. Why, I put her in one of the best rooms;
though of course that doesn't make any difference so long as there is
nobody else to take it. I wonder if we couldn't find some sort of a girl
to take care of the baby while she comes to her meals."
At this even Stephen Petter smiled. He was pleased that one of his
guests should have a servant of such high degree. It was like a noble
lady in waiting upon a queen.
"She shall be entertained," he said, "according to her station. There
need be no fear about that."
"Upon my word," exclaimed Mrs. Petter, "if here isn't Mr. Tippengray!
Well, sir, I don't know when I've seen you on hand at regular
meal-time."
"Perhaps it is a little out of the common," said the Greek scholar;
"but, after all," he continued, looking out of the window, "it appears
I am not the last one to come in." And then, glancing around the table,
he asked, "Am I taking her place?"
"Oh, no, sir," said Mrs. Cristie; "that is my maid."
Mr. Tippengray again looked out of the window; then he helped himself to
butter, and said:
"Have you ever noticed, Mrs. Petter, that the prevailing style in wild
flowers seems to vary every year? It changes just like our fashions,
though of course there are always a few old fogies among blossoming
weeds, as well as among clothes-wearers."
The next morning Walter Lodloe came to Mrs. Cristie on the lawn.
"I have been waiting for some time," he said, "in order to tell you that
I am ready at any moment to repair the unpardonable blunder that I made
yesterday, and to escort back to New York the very unsuitable young
woman whom I forced upon you."
"Oh, you need not think of doing anything of that kind," said Mrs.
Cristie; "the young person is perfectly satisfied with the situation,
and intends to stay. She gives me no possible excuse to tell her that
she will not suit me, for she takes hold of things exactly as if she
remembered what people did for her when she was a baby. She doesn't know
everything, but she intends to; that is plain enough. At present she is
washing one of baby's frocks with my _savon de rose_, because she
declares that the soap they gave her in the kitchen contains enough lye
to corrode the fibers of the fabric."
"Then you think she may suit you?" said Lodloe.
"Oh, she will suit; she intends to suit; and I have nothing to say
except that I feel very much as I suppose you would feel if you had a
college president to brush your coat."
"My spirits rise," said Lodloe; "I begin to believe that I have not made
so much of a blunder after all. When you can get it, there is nothing
like blooded service."