LYDDY DOESN'T WANT IT
"Who is this Mr. Spink?" asked Lydia Bray the following morning, as they
prepared for church.
It was a beautiful spring morning. There had been a pattering shower
at sunrise and the eaves were still dripping, while every blade of the
freshly springing grass in the side yard--which was directly beneath
the girls' window--sparkled as though diamond-decked over night.
The old trees in the orchard were pushing both leaf and
blossom--especially the plum and peach trees. In the distance other
orchards were blowing, too, and that spattered the mountainside with
patches of what looked to be pale pink mist.
The faint tinkling of the sheep-bells came across the hills to the ears
of Lyddy and 'Phemie. The girls were continually going to the window or
door to watch the vast panorama of the mountainside and valley, spread
below them.
"Who _is_ this Mr. Spink?" repeated Lyddy.
Her sister explained what she knew of the man who--once a poorhouse
boy--was now counted a rich man and the proprietor of Diamond Grits,
the popular breakfast food.
"He lived here at Hillcrest as a boy, with grandfather," 'Phemie said.
"But what's _that_ got to do with his coming up here now--and at night?"
"And with Mr. Pritchett?" finished 'Phemie.
"Yes. I am going to ask Mr. Pritchett about it. They surely weren't after
vinegar so late at night," Lyddy observed.
But 'Phemie did not prolong the discussion. In her secret thoughts the
younger Bray girl believed that it was Cyrus Pritchett and Mr. Spink whom
she had heard about the old house the night she and Lyddy had first slept
at Hillcrest.
There was no use worrying Lyddy about it, she told herself.
A little later the roan ponies appeared with the Pritchett buckboard.
Instead of Mrs. Pritchett and her daughter, however, the good lady's
companion on the front seat was Lucas, who drove.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Lyddy. "I hope we haven't turned Miss Pritchett out
of her seat. Surely we three girls could have squeezed in here on the back
seat."
"Nope," said Mrs. Pritchett. "That ain't it, at all. Sairy ain't goin' to
church this mornin'."
"She's not ill?" asked Lyddy.
"I dunno. She ain't got no misery as I can find out; but she sartainly
has a grouch! A bear with a sore head in fly time would be a smilin'
work of Grace 'side of Sairy Pritchett ever since she come home from
the Temperance Club las' night."
"Oh!" came from 'Phemie.
"Why----She surely isn't angry because we went home early?" cried Lyddy.
"My sister, you see, got nervous----"
"I reckon 'taint that," Lucas hastened to say. "More likely she's sore
on me."
"'Tain't nawthin' of the kind, an' you know it, Lucas," declared his
mother. "Though ye might have driven 'round by the schoolhouse ag'in and
brought her home."
"Wal, I thought she'd ride back with school teacher. She went with him,"
returned Lucas, on the defensive.
"She walked home," said Mrs. Pritchett, shortly. "I dunno why. She won't
tell _me_."
"I hope she isn't ill," remarked the unconscious Lyddy.
But Lucas cast a knowing look over his shoulder at 'Phemie and the latter
had hard work to keep her own countenance straight.
"Well," said Mrs. Pritchett, more briskly, "ye can't always sometimes tell
what the matter is with these young gals. They gits crotchets in their
heads."
She kept up the fiction that Sairy was a young and flighty miss; but even
'Phemie could no longer laugh at her for it. It was the mother's pitiful
attempt to aid her daughter's chances for that greatly-to-be-desired
condition--matrimony.
The roads were still muddy; nevertheless the drive over the ridge to
Cornell Chapel was lovely. For some time the girls had been noting the
procession of carriages and wagons winding over the mountain roads, all
verging upon this main trail over the ridge which passed so close to
Hillcrest.
Lucas, driving the ponies at a good clip, joined the procession. Lyddy
and 'Phemie recognized several of the young people they had met the night
before at the Temperance Club--notably the young men.
Joe Badger flashed by in a red-wheeled buggy and beside him sat the buxom,
red-faced girl who had voiced her distaste for the city-bred newcomers
right at the start. Badger bowed with a flourish; but his companion's nose
was in the air.
"I never did think that Nettie Meyers had very good manners," announced
Mrs. Pritchett.
They overtook the schoolmaster jogging along behind his old gray mare.
He, likewise, bowed profoundly to the Bray girls.
"I am afraid you did not enjoy yourself last night at the club, Miss
Bray," he said to Lyddy, who was on his side of the buckboard, as Lucas
pulled out to pass him. "You went home so early. I was looking for you
after it was all over."
"Oh, but you are mistaken," declared Lyddy, pleasantly. "I had a very nice
time."
As they drove on Mrs. Pritchett's fat face became a study.
"And he never even asked arter Sairy!" she gasped. "And he let her come
home alone last night. Humph! he must ha' been busy huntin' for _you_,
Miss Bray."
Lucas cast oil on the troubled waters by saying:
"An' I carried Miss Lyddy and Miss 'Phemie away from all of 'em. I guess
_all_ the Pritchetts ain't so slow, Maw."
"Humph! Wa-al," admitted the good lady, somewhat mollified, "you _hev_
seemed to 'woke up lately, Lucas."
The chapel was built of graystone and its north wall was entirely covered
with ivy. It nestled in a grove of evergreens, with the tidy fenced
graveyard behind it. The visitors thought it a very beautiful place.
Everybody was rustling into church when they arrived, so there were no
introductions then. The pastor was a stooped, gray old man, who had been
the incumbent for many years, and to the Bray girls his discourse seemed
as helpful as any they had ever heard.
After service the girls of Hillcrest Farm were introduced to many of the
congregation by Mrs. Pritchett. Naturally these were the middle-aged, or
older, members of the flock--mostly ladies who knew, or remembered, the
girls' mother and Aunt Jane. Indeed, it was rather noticeable that the
young women and girls did not come forward to meet Lyddy and 'Phemie.
Not that either of the sisters cared. They liked the matrons who attended
Cornell Chapel much better than they had most of the youthful members of
the Temperance Club.
Some of the young men waited their chance in the vestibule to get a bow
and a smile of recognition from the newcomers; but only the schoolmaster
dared attach himself for any length of time to the Pritchett party.
And Mrs. Pritchett could not fail to take note of this at length. The
teacher was deep in some unimportant discussion with Lyddy, who was
sweetly unconscious that she was fanning the fire of suspicion in Mrs.
Pritchett's breast.
That lady finally broke in with a loud "Ahem!" following it with: "I
re'lly don't know what's happened to my Sairy. She's right poorly to-day,
Mr. Somers."
"Why--I--I'm sorry to hear it," said the startled, yet quite unsuspicious
teacher. "She seemed to be in good health and spirits when we were on our
way to the club meeting last evening."
"Ya-as," agreed Mrs. Pritchett, simpering and looking at him sideways.
"She seems to have changed since then. She ain't been herself since she
walked home from the meeting."
"Perhaps she has a cold?" suggested the teacher, blandly.
"Oh, Sairy is not subject to colds," declared Mrs. Pritchett. "But she
is easily chilled in other ways--yes, indeed! I don't suppose there is
a more sensitive young girl on the ridge than my Sairy."
Mr. Somers began to wake up to the fact that the farmer's wife was not
shooting idly at him; there was "something behind it!"
"I am sorry if Miss Sairy is offended, or has been hurt in any way," he
said, gravely. "It was a pity she had to walk home from the club. If I
had known----"
"Wa-al," drawled Mrs. Pritchett, "_you_ took her there yourself in your
buggy."
"Indeed!" he exclaimed, flushing a little. "I had no idea that bound me
to the necessity of taking her home again. Her brother was there with your
carriage. I am sure I do not understand your meaning, Mrs. Pritchett."
"Oh, I don't mean anything!" exclaimed the lady, but very red in the face
now, and her bonnet shaking. "Come, gals! we must be going."
Both Lyddy and 'Phemie had begun to feel rather unhappy by this time. Mrs.
Pritchett swept them up the aisle ahead of her as though she were shooing
a flock of chickens with her ample skirts.
They went through the vestibule with a rush. Lucas was ready with the
ponies. Mrs. Pritchett was evidently very angry over her encounter with
the teacher; and she could not fail to hold the Bray girls somewhat
accountable for her daughter's failure to keep the interest of Mr. Somers.
She said but little on the drive homeward. There had been something said
earlier about the girls going down to the Pritchett farm for dinner; but
the angry lady said nothing more about it, and Lyddy and 'Phemie were
rather glad when Hillcrest came into view.
"Ye better stop in an' go along down to the house with us," said the
good-natured Lucas, hesitating about turning the ponies' heads in at the
lane.
"Oh, we could not possibly," Lyddy replied, gracefully. "We are a thousand
times obliged for your making it possible for us to attend church. You
are all so kind, Mrs. Pritchett. But this afternoon I must plead the
wicked intention of writing letters. I haven't written a line to one of
my college friends since I came to Hillcrest."
Mrs. Pritchett merely grunted. Lucas covered his mother's grumpiness by
inconsequential chatter with 'Phemie while he drove in and turned the
ponies so that the girls could get out.
"A thousand thanks!" cried 'Phemie.
"Good-day!" exclaimed Lyddy, brightly.
Mrs. Pritchett's bonnet only shook the harder, and she did not turn to
look at the girls. Lucas cast a very rueful glance in their direction as
he drove hastily away.
"Now we've done it!" gasped 'Phemie, half laughing, half in disgust.
"Why! whatever is the matter, do you suppose?" demanded her sister.
"Well, if you can't see _that_----"
"I see she's angry over Sairy and the school teacher--poor man! But what
have we to do with that?"
"It's your fatal attractiveness," sighed 'Phemie. Then she began to
laugh. "You're a very innocent baby, Lyd. Don't you see that Maw Pritchett
thought--or hoped--that she had Mr. Somers nicely entangled with Sairy?
And he neglected her for you. Bing! it's all off, and we're at outs with
the Pritchett family."
"What awful language!" sighed Lyddy, unlocking the door. "I am sorry
you ever went to work in that millinery shop, 'Phemie. It has made your
mind--er--almost common!"
But 'Phemie only laughed.
If the Pritchett females were "at outs" with them, the men of the family
did not appear to be. At least, Cyrus and his son were at Hillcrest bright
and early on Monday morning, with two teams ready for plowing. Lyddy had
a serious talk with Mr. Pritchett first.
"Ya-as. That's good 'tater and truckin' land behind the barn. It's laid
out a good many years now, for it's only an acre, or so, and we never
tilled it for corn. It's out o' the way, kinder," said the elder Pritchett.
"Then I want that for a garden," Lyddy declared.
"It don't pay me to work none of this 'off' land for garden trucks," said
Cyrus, shortly. "Not 'nless ye want a few rows o' stuff in the cornfield
jest where I can cultivate with the hosses."
"But if you plant corn here, you must plant my garden, too," insisted
Lyddy, who was quite as obstinate as the old farmer. "And I'd like to have
a big garden, and plenty of potatoes, too. I am going to keep boarders
this summer, and I want to raise enough to feed them--or partly feed them,
at least."
"Huh! Boarders, eh? A gal like you!"
"We're not rich enough to sit with idle hands, and I mean to try and earn
something," Lyddy declared. "And we'll want vegetables to carry us over
winter, too."
Lucas had been listening with flushed and anxious face. Now he broke in
eagerly:
"You said I could till a piece for myself this year, Dad. Lemme do it up
here. There's a better chance to sell trucks in Bridleburg than there has
been. I'll plow and take care of two acres up here, if Miss Lyddy says so,
for half the crops, she to supply seed and fertilizer."
"Will--will it cost much, Lucas?" asked Lyddy, doubtfully.
"That land's rich, but it may be sour. Ain't that so, Dad? It won't take
so very much phosphate; will it?"
Cyrus was slower mentally than these eager young folk. He had to think
it over and discuss it from different angles. But finally he gave his
consent to the plan and advised his son and Lyddy how to manage the matter.
"You kin git your fertilizer on time--six or nine months--right here in
Bridleburg. That gives you a chance to raise your crop and market it
before paying for the fertilizer," he said. "You'll have to get corn
fertilizer, too, in the same way. But 'most ev'rybody else on the ridge
does the same. We ain't a very fore-handed community, and that's a fac'."
At noon Lyddy and 'Phemie talked over the garden project more fully with
Lucas. They planned what early seeds should be planted, and Lucas began
plowing that particular piece behind the barn right after dinner.
Lyddy had very little money to work with, but she believed in "nothing
ventured, nothing gained." She told Lucas to purchase a bag of potatoes
for planting the next day when he went to town, and he was to buy a few
papers of early garden seeds, too.
And when Lucas came back with the potatoes he brought a surprise for the
Bray girls. He drove into the yard with a flourish. 'Phemie looked out
of the window, uttered a scream of joy and surprise, and rushed out to
receive her father in her strong young arms as he got down from the seat.
How feeble and tired he looked! 'Phemie began to cry; but Lyddy "braced
up" and declared he looked a whole lot better already and that Hillcrest
would cure him in just no time.
"And that foolish 'Phemie is only crying for joy at seeing you so
unexpectedly, Father," said Lyddy, scowling frightfully at her sister
over their father's bowed head as they helped him into the house.
Lucas hovered in the background; but he could not help them. 'Phemie saw,
however, that the young farmer fully appreciated the situation and was
truly sympathetic.
The change in Mr. Bray's appearance was a great shock to both girls. Of
course, the doctor at the hospital had promised Lyddy no great improvement
in the patient until he could be got up here on the hills, where the air
was pure and healing.
Aunt Jane had come as far as the junction with him; but he had come
on alone to Bridleburg from there, and the agent at the station had
telephoned uptown to tell Lucas that the invalid wished to get to
Hillcrest.
"I'm all right; I'm all right!" he kept repeating. But the girls almost
carried him between them into the house.
"The doctors said you could do more for me up here than they could do for
me there," panted Mr. Bray, smiling faintly at his daughters, who hovered
about him as he sat before the crackling wood fire in the kitchen.
"And Aunt Jane never told us you were coming!" gasped Lyddy.
"What's the odds, as long as he's here?" demanded 'Phemie.
"Why, I shall soon be my old self again up here," Mr. Bray declared,
hopefully. "Now, don't fuss over me, girls. You've got other things to
do. That young fellow who brought me up here seems to be your chief cook
and bottle-washer, and he wants to speak to you, I reckon," for Lucas
was waiting to learn where he should put the potatoes and other things.
Mr. Bray knew all about the boarding house project and approved of it.
"Why, I can soon help around myself. And I must do something," he told
them, that evening, "or I shall go crazy. I couldn't endure the rest
cure." But it was complete rest that he had to endure for several days
after his unexpected arrival.
The girls gave up their room to their father, and went upstairs to sleep.
'Phemie had to admit that even _she_ was glad there was at last somebody
else in the house. Especially a man!
"But I never have thought to ask Mr. Pritchett about his being up here
with that Spink man last Saturday night," Lyddy said, sleepily.
"You'd better let it drop," advised 'Phemie. "We don't want to get the
whole Pritchett family down on us."
"What nonsense! Of course I shall ask him," declared her sister.
But as it happened something occurred the following day to quite put this
small matter out of Lyddy's mind. The postman brought the first letter in
answer to their advertisement. Lyddy was about to tear open the envelope
when she halted in amazement. The card printed in the corner included the
number of Trimble Avenue right next to the big tenement house in which the
Brays had lived before coming here to Hillcrest.
"Isn't that strange?" she murmured, and read the card again:
_Commonwealth Chemical Company_
_407 Trimble Avenue_
_Easthampton_
"Right from the very next door!" sparkled 'Phemie. "Don't that beat
all!--as Lucas says."
But Lyddy had now opened the letter and read as follows:
"L. Bray, Hillcrest Farm, Bridleburg P. O.
"Dear Madam:
I have read your advertisement and believe that you offer exactly
what my father and I have been looking for--a quiet, homelike
boarding house in the hills, and not too far away for me to get
easily back and forth. If agreeable, we shall come to Bridleburg
Saturday and would be glad to have you meet the 10:14 train on its
arrival. If both parties are suited we can then discuss terms.
"Respectfully,
"Harris Colesworth."
"Why, what's the matter, Lyd?" demanded her sister, in amazement.
But Lyddy Bray did not explain. In her own mind she was much disturbed.
She was confident that the writer of this note was the "fresh" young
fellow who had always been at work in the chemical laboratory right across
the air-shaft from her kitchen window!
Of course, it was quite by chance--in all probability--that he had
answered her advertisement. Yet Lyddy Bray had an intuition that if she
answered the letter, and the Colesworths came here to Hillcrest, trouble
would ensue.
She had hoped very much to obtain boarders, and to get even one thus early
in the season seemed too good to be true. Yet, now that she had got what
she wanted, Lyddy was doubtful if she wanted it after all.