THE FIRST EVENING IN THE NEW HOME.
A few months later, when the spring was just opening, Beatrice and
Roland stood on the wide porch of the old house in New Windsor,
eagerly watching the approach of a carriage which was bringing to the
Lindens the rest of their family. The girl’s feet could not keep from
dancing, and the lad’s spirits found vent in a whistle so merry and so
spontaneous that old Mr. Dolloway, hearing it, muttered grimly: “I hope
he can keep on a feeling that way after he’s tried farming a spell. I
don’t see any great fun in hard work myself, an’ that’s what he’ll get,
an’ plenty of it.”
“Oh! I hope Motherkin will not be disappointed! Think of her trusting
everything to her children, and saying that what we like will certainly
suit her! Was there ever such a love of a mother in this world?”
“No, Bonny, I don’t believe there ever was. I can imagine no human
being more perfect than our mother.”
“I mean she shall have a splendid rest now. This air is perfectly
delicious! It fairly tingles through my veins, it is so pure and
brilliant!”
The brother fell to whistling again.
“See! The buds are really swelling on my lindens! I wonder what their
secret is.”
“I thought you professed to having found out?”
“Not quite. I did think, from the stories I have read about
Revolutionary times here, that perhaps Mr. Brook believed there was
a buried treasure underneath those trees somewhere. But last night
I asked him, and he laughed so gayly that I knew I was on the wrong
track. Miss Joanna laughed, too, and asked me if I thought all the poor
old soldiers had money to bury, because she had certainly heard of
enough being searched for to supply the whole army with wealth, and yet
history told us that they suffered great privations. There _have_ been
some ‘pots of gold’ resurrected right here in this New Windsor town,
but they did not hold enough to enrich anybody, and their contents are
preserved more as curiosities than used to supply common wants.”
“So you give up that idea entirely?”
“Entirely. There they come. Oh, Mother! Here at last!”
Considerate in all things, Mr. Brook had sent his own carriage to the
station to bring Mrs. Beckwith and Belle with little Robert, but he
had not accompanied it himself. He wanted the first glimpse of her new
home should be an impartial one on the lady’s part, and he was too
prejudiced a person to refrain from pointing out this or that favorable
feature of the spot he loved so well. So the family were quite by
themselves, and free to express their thoughts as they were inclined
without fear of wounding anybody’s preferences, had there been any
danger of their doing so. But there was not. As Roland had said, when
he returned from that first visit of the autumn before, “It is all so
much better than one could have dreamed!” was the one and only feeling
of the brave little woman who stepped down from the carriage with happy
face and shining eyes.
“Here at last, my darling! All together once more. Are you not tired
out with all your hard work? And, Roland, my son, it actually seems to
me you have grown, even in these few days!”
“Grown in importance, Motherkin. He’s really very ‘masterful’ up here.
He feels that he is the head of the family now, in good earnest. You
should hear him say: ‘Bonny! that room _must_ be my mother’s. It is the
very sunniest, pleasantest in the whole house!’ in such a tone. As if
a body wished to dispute his royal highness! But--how _do_ you like it?
And how did you manage in the boarding-house, after we came away with
the ‘things’?”
“Oh, we managed nicely. Did everything come? Don’t you think you are
very smart, you two, to take the whole responsibility of settling a
house, and such a big house as this? How nice it looks! How pretty,
nay, how beautiful, it all is! See the delicate green of those
tree-buds! And that clump of willows by the river-side. What an
exquisite color! And the plashing of the water at the foot of the
bluff! I had no idea it was so lovely!”
“Now, Motherkin! That’s charming of you; but you don’t wish to waste
all your enthusiasm out of doors, I hope. As for those willow boughs,
I can tell you exactly what to do them in. Cadmium, Motherkin, cadmium
yellow, number two, with shadows of _terre verte_ and umber. Oh! I
know! I was taken with just such an artistic spasm the other day when
I was scrubbing the kitchen pantry, and I sat right down and made a
study of those willows on the back of the moulding-board. I didn’t
quite finish it, though, for Roland called to me to help him with
the stove-pipe, and that sort of dampened my spirits for a while.
Stove-pipes have a depressing influence on mankind generally, I
believe; for we couldn’t get it right, though we tried never so, and
after a little while Roland had to call on Mr. Dolloway for advice.
He-- I fancy I had best not tell what he said. It wouldn’t have been
allowed in polite society. He--”
“Bonny, do keep still! Mother, she talks all the time up here. That is
one drawback I have discovered to this paradise. It is either talk or
sing with Beatrice; she cannot keep still a minute.”
“Never mind! A _happy_ racket never is disturbing to _me_. So this is
my room? Well, I thank you for selecting one so big and cheerful. How
well our old furniture does look, after all! And what pretty matting!
It--seems like a dream. And there is almost as much space in this
one apartment as in the whole of our little flat. I feel like a Mrs.
Crœsus! And what a light for my embroidery!”
“Motherkin, you are not to embroider one stitch for one whole week.
True. Roland has said so, and you will not dare to disobey the
Laureate--and the head of the family--combined!”
It was indeed a cheerful, picturesque old farm-house, and could not
have been situated more pleasantly. To the east, across the river,
the highlands were violet in the light of the setting sun, and the
broad stream itself was flecked here and there by the white-sailed
boats which had awaked from the winter’s sleep with the opening of
navigation, and now darted busily up and down intent upon making lost
time good. Barges and steam-tugs, a steamer or two, and the rattle of
trains on both banks of the Hudson gave what Roland called “an American
flavor to an idyllic picture,” and convinced them all that in turning
their backs upon the city they had not left behind them all connection
with its stirring life.
“Now the greenhouse, Mother! Then you may have your supper. Miss Brook
invited us there to-night, but I asked her to excuse us. I thought you
would be tired and would like to eat your first meal in your new home.
Though we are all to go there to dine to-morrow, and she is coming over
to see you ‘early in the morning,’ which means early, too! Those two
people have not a thing to do except please themselves; and how do you
think they do it? One of the ‘hows’?”
“Don’t tire us with conundrums, Bonny!” pleaded Isabelle, who had made
a swift tour of the whole premises and now returned to the empty little
glass house where the rest had gathered.
“By having their breakfast at seven o’clock the year round!”
“Then during the week you have passed with them you have either
suffered or been impolite!” said Mrs. Beckwith, with conviction.
“I wasn’t impolite, Motherkin. I didn’t keep them waiting,--they
wouldn’t have waited, though,--but I was on hand every morning, sharp.
So was Roland. Oh! that youth is a changed young man! If it only lasts!”
“Now, here,” said Roland, paying no attention to Bonny’s banter, “is
where I have sowed my celery seed. Here is lettuce; there radishes;
there onions, tomatoes, and by this side a few early potatoes. Isn’t
that like living?”
“Roland, how did you know what to do? And how have you had time to
accomplish so much since you came? Shall you like it?”
“Mother, you are almost as curious as Bob! It does me good to hear
it. I was taught what to do by Mr. Brook’s gardener. And we have not
wasted any of the hours during this past week, anyway. And I shall like
it--immensely. I never felt so much a man in all my life.”
“Why, you ain’t a man, Roland! You’re only a boy,” remarked Robert,
feeling a bit jealous of this big brother who had had a whole
week at the Lindens, while he had been forced to remain in a city
boarding-house till Beatrice and the “Laureate” prepared the home for
their mother’s coming. “And don’t it look funny to see our old things
in this new house! I found my own bed the first thing. It’s in a room
all by my own self, ’cause Bon said so. That bed is new if nothin’ else
ain’t, an’ I’m as much ’count as you if I can have a bedroom too.”
“I think that is one of the luxuries of the situation, that each member
of the household can have his or her own little apartment to do in just
as he pleases.”
“To do in not at all as he pleases, you mean! That girl has fidgeted
herself sick lest there should be a speck of dirt left anywhere for
your eyes to find, Mother. And if I laid a single thing down in my
room--so-called--she’d pounce upon it and hang it up or hide it away,
lest the place should ‘look like fury.’”
“Well, she has her reward. I really think she has done wonders, as well
as you. And now I think I smell a cup of tea. If your supper is ready,
Miss Housekeeper, I should be pleased to eat it.”
They had not been allowed to enter the dining-room before. Bonny had
prepared her table and then locked the door. She wanted that room, next
to the mother’s the most cheerful room in the house, to be a surprise
to them; and she now opened the door with a flourish of arms, then
stood back to enjoy the look of pleasure she was sure her mother’s face
would show.
“Oh, how pretty! My dear, you _have_ kept the best to the last. And
this will be our living-room, our ‘home’ room; and as we break bread
together in it for the first time, let us each resolve that into this
room, whatever of sorrow may come, there shall never come an angry word
or an unloving thought. Three times each day, God willing, we will
gather here _in peace_.”
“Then let’s call it the ‘peace-room’ Motherkin!” cried “Humpty-Dumpty,”
touched for almost the first time in his life to a bit of sentiment by
the sweet solemnity of his mother’s face.
“Good for you, small sir! It’s a compact! Your hand upon it, little
brother! And whenever you get into a scrape, if ever such an
unheard-of thing should happen, remember this room shall be a retreat
where you will be safe. I, too; and between us--”
“It will not be often unoccupied!” said Belle, saucily, and moved her
mother’s chair to its place.
“What a great, big fireplace! And ain’t it wicked to burn so much wood,
Roland? Must ’a’ cost a heap!” remarked Bob, leaning his head on his
hands, and gazing reflectively into the bright wood fire which flamed
on the hearth.
He had voiced his mother’s own thought, and she looked toward the elder
son for explanation.
“No, Bob; it cost nothing but a little labor. That fire is made
of driftwood which washed up on our own land. I dragged it to the
wood-house and cut it up myself. Of course, Mr. Brook had a hand in
the business, as he has in all this good fortune. He lent me his saw
and axe; and I am to keep them till I can buy some of my own. Think of
having anybody lend you anything! It is a new experience for us.”
“We do not want to become borrowers, on the strength of it, more than
is necessary, my dear,” said Mrs. Beckwith.
“Don’t you fear. I am quite as independent as you, by nature. But I’ve
found out something, Mother. There is as much kindness in accepting
favors, sometimes, as in conferring them. Mr. Brook feels that he is
responsible for our being here. He wishes to help us get started and
everything running smoothly, and then I think he means to leave us to
stand on our own feet. He has sent his man over every day to help me
about the grounds, and Mr. Dolloway--oh! Mr. Dolloway!”
Bonny echoed her brother’s groan in so comical a manner that Robert
demanded instantly: “What’s he done, Bon? Has he been a lickin’ you?
’Cause--”
“’Cause why, my lad?”
“’Cause he’d better not! I’ll lick him back if he ’tempts it! I studied
that out coming along.”
“No; he doesn’t ‘lick’ me. It would be a relief if he did. He simply
stands and prophesies evil till I am about distracted. Then I get mad
and long to ‘sass’ him--but don’t. For a man who has lived with such a
master as long as he has he is the grumpiest old chap you can imagine.
He seems to be glad to have us here, thinks ‘it’s a fine thing to have
the prop’ty let, after lyin’ idle so long, yet is sure it will go to
wrack and ruin bein’ took care of by a passel o’ young ones an’ one
lorn female.’ My goodness! Here he comes now. Speaking o’ angels, you
know. And what has he brought this time--but--a cat!”
“Yes, I always feel a place never can look homelike without a cat
around,” explained the visitor, when questioned by Beatrice, “so I
fetched this one over. She’s a good mouser, an’ if you don’t feed her
too much’ll do well. H’m-m. Hope you like the looks o’ things, ma’am,”
said Mr. Dolloway, after he had been brought in and duly presented
to Mrs. Beckwith and Belle. As for Robert, the child’s presence was
utterly ignored; and finding this the case, he sauntered out of the
room on a tour of private inspection, or for some reason of his own
which he did not care to mention.
“I do like the looks of things very, very much. I am sure we shall be
very happy here if only our plans for earning our livelihood do not
miscarry. To-night I feel as rich as a queen in a new palace.”
“H’m-m. Just keep a feelin’ so, ma’am. Our folks are powerful glad
you’ve come, an’ things’ll go. But I dunno how they would ’a’ gone if
it hadn’t been for me looking after these childern you sent up here.
They mean well, but-- My soul! What in the world!”
The horrible sounds which had interrupted Mr. Dolloway’s discourse
appeared to come from the rear of the house, and thither everybody
rushed to learn their cause.
“Burglars!” thought Mrs. Beckwith, trembling.
“Tramps!” echoed Isabelle, recalling all the outrages of that
fraternity which she had ever seen recorded in the newspapers.
“Sounds like some wild animal!” cried Roland, and tried to open the
door backwards, in his haste.
“My soul! It’s a cat! My--cat--I--believe!” exclaimed the visitor,
wildly.
“Oh! where is Robert? My little boy--my baby!” wailed the anxious
mother, as the sounds continued, and grew even fiercer.
Where was he, indeed! Till that moment they had not missed him, but now
each face paled with apprehension as his absence was discovered.
“Oo-row-mur-rrow-screech! -s-spst! Ee-e-yo-ouw!”
“Humph! It’s my opinion that that sound and my small brother are
connected!” said Bonny, composedly.
“Oh! if they should be!” cried Mrs. Beckwith, now actually sobbing with
terror.