ANOTHER BOARDER
Lyddy heard her sister and Harris Colesworth in the hall, and then in the
dining-room. The girls had not made a fire in any other room in the house.
It took too much wood, and the dining-room was large enough to be used as
a sitting-room "for company," too.
And with the fresh maple branches and arbutus decorating the space over
the mantel, and the great dish of violets on the table, and the odorous
plum branches everywhere, that dining-room was certainly an attractive
apartment.
The old-fashioned blue-and-white china and the few pieces of heavy
silverware "dressed" the table very nicely. The linen was yellow with
age, but every glass and spoon shone.
The sun streamed warmly in at the windows, the view from which was lovely.
Lyddy heard the appreciative remarks of the young man as 'Phemie ushered
him in.
But she ran out to greet the old gentleman. The elder Colesworth was sixty
or more--a frail, scholarly-looking man, with a winning smile. He, like
Mr. Bray, leaned on a cane; but Mr. Bray was at least fifteen years Mr.
Colesworth's junior.
"So _you_ are 'L. Bray'; are you?" asked the old gentleman, shaking hands
with her. "You are the elder daughter and head of the household, your
father tells me."
"I am older than 'Phemie--yes," admitted Lyddy, blushing. "But we have
no 'head' here. I do my part of the work, and she does hers."
"And, please God," said Mr. Bray, earnestly, "I shall soon be able to do
mine."
"Work is the word, then!" cried the old gentleman. "I tell Harris that's
all that is the matter with me. I knocked off work too early. 'Retired,'
they call it. But it doesn't pay--it doesn't pay."
"There will be plenty for you to do up here, Mr. Colesworth," suggested
Lyddy, laughing. "We'll let you chop your own wood, if you like. But
perhaps picking flowers for the table will be more to your taste--at
first."
"I don't know--I don't know," returned the old gentleman. "I was brought
up on a farm. I used to know how to swing an axe. And I can remember yet
how I hated a buck-saw."
They went into the house; but Lyddy slipped back to the kitchen and
allowed her father to follow Harris Colesworth and 'Phemie, with the old
gentleman, into the dining-room.
'Phemie soon came out to help, leaving their father to entertain the
visitors while dinner was being served. Lyddy had prepared a simple meal,
of which the staple was the New England standby--baked beans.
She had been up before light, had built a huge fire in the brick oven,
had heated it to a high temperature, and had then baked her pies, a huge
pan of gingerbread, her white bread, and potatoes for dinner. She had
steamed her "brown loaf" in a kettle hanging from the crane, and the
sealed beanpot had been all night in the ashes on the hearth, the right
"finish" being given in the brick oven as it gradually cooled off.
The girl had had wonderfully good luck with her baking. The bread was
neither "all crust" nor was it dough in the middle. The pies were flaky
as to crust and the apples which filled them were tender.
When Lyddy brought in the beanpot, wrapped in a blue and white towel to
retain the heat, she met Harris Colesworth for the first time. To her
surprise he did not attempt to appear amazed to see her.
"Miss Bray!" he cried, coming forward to shake hands with her. "I have
been telling your father that we are already acquainted. But I never _did_
expect to see you again when you sold out and went away from Trimble
Avenue that morning."
"Shows how small the world is," said Mr. Bray, smiling. "We lived
right beside the building in which Mr. Colesworth works, and he saw
our advertisement in the paper----"
"Oh, I was sure it was Miss Bray," interrupted young Colesworth, openly
acknowledging his uncalled-for interest (so Lyddy expressed it to herself)
in their affairs.
"You see," said this very frank young man, "I knew your name was Bray.
And I knew you were going into the country for Mr. Bray's health. I--I
even asked at the hospital about you several times," he added, flushing
a little.
"How very kind!" murmured Lyddy, but without looking at him, as 'Phemie
brought in some of the other dishes.
"Not at all; I was interested," said the young man, laughing. "You always
were afraid of getting acquainted with me when I used to watch you working
about your kitchen. But now, Miss Bray, if father decides to come out
here to board with you, you'll just _have_ to be acquainted with me."
Mr. Bray laughed at this, and 'Phemie giggled. Lyddy's face was a study.
It did seem impossible to keep this very presuming young man at a proper
distance.
But they gathered around the table then, and Lyddy had another reason for
blushing. The visitors praised her cooking highly, and when they learned
of the old-fashioned means by which the cooking was done, their wonder
grew.
And Lyddy deserved some praise, that was sure. The potatoes came out of
their crisp skins as light as feathers. The thickened pork gravy that
went with them was something Mr. Colesworth the elder declared he had
not tasted since he was a boy.
And when the beans were ladled from the pot--brown, moist, every bean
firm in its individual jacket, but seasoned through and through--the
Colesworths fairly reveled in them. The fresh bread and good butter,
and the flaky wedges of apple pie, each flanked by its pilot of cheese,
were likewise enjoyed.
"If you can put us up only half comfortably," declared the elder
Colesworth, bowing to Lyddy, "I can tell you right now, young lady, that
we will stay. Let us see your rooms, we will come to terms, and then
I'll take a nap, if you will allow me. I need it after this heavy dinner.
Why, Harris! I haven't eaten so heartily for months."
"Never saw you sail into the menu with any more enjoyment, Dad," declared
his son, in delight.
But Lyddy made her sister show them over the house. They were some time in
making up their minds regarding the choice of apartments; but finally
they decided upon one of the large rooms the girls proposed making over
into bed-chambers on the ground floor. This room was nearest the east
wing, had long windows opening upon the side porch, and with the two small
beds removed from the half-furnished rooms on the second floor of the
east wing, and brought downstairs, together with one or two other pieces
of furniture, the Colesworths declared themselves satisfied with the
accommodations.
Young Colesworth would come out on Saturdays and return Monday mornings.
He would arrange with Lucas to drive him back and forth. And the old
gentleman would come out, bag and baggage, on the coming Monday to take
possession of the room.
To bind the bargain Harris handed Lyddy fifteen dollars, and asked for a
receipt. Fifteen dollars a week! Lyddy had scarcely dared ask for it--had
done so with fear and trembling, in fact. But the Colesworths seemed to
consider it quite within reason.
"Oh, 'Phemie!" gasped Lyddy, hugging her sister tight out in the kitchen.
"Just think of _fifteen dollars_ coming in every week. Why! we can all
_live_ on that!"
"M--m; yes," said 'Phemie, ruminatively. "But hasn't he a handsome nose?"
"Who--what---- 'Phemie Bray! haven't you anything else in your head but
young men's noses?" cried her sister, in sudden wrath.
But it was a beginning. They had really "got into business," as their
father said that night at the supper table.
"I only fear that the work will be too much for us," he observed.
"For 'Phemie and me, you mean, Father," said Lyddy, firmly. "You are
not to work. You're to get well. _That_ is your business--and your only
business."
"You girls will baby me to death!" cried Mr. Bray, wiping his eyes. "I
refuse to be laid on the shelf. I hope I am not useless----"
"My goodness me! Far from it," cried 'Phemie. "But you'll be lots more
help to us when you are perfectly well and strong again."
"There'll be plenty you can do without taxing your strength--and without
keeping you indoors," Lyddy added. "Just think if we get the chicken
business started. You can do all of that--after the biddies are hatched."
"I feel so much better already, girls," declared their father, gravely,
"that I am sure I shall have a giant's strength before fall."
Aunt Jane had written them, however, certain advice which the doctor at
the hospital had given to her regarding Mr. Bray. He was to be discouraged
from performing any heavy tasks of whatsoever nature, and his diet was
to consist mainly of milk and eggs--tissue-building fuel for the system.
He had worked so long in the hat shop that his lungs were in a weakened
state, if not actually affected. For months they would have to watch him
carefully. And to return to his work in the city would be suicidal.
Therefore were Lyddy and 'Phemie more than ever anxious to make the
boarders' project pay. And with the Colesworths' fifteen dollars a week
it seemed as though a famous start had been made in that direction.
By serving simple food, plainly cooked, Lyddy was confident that she could
keep the table for all five from the board paid by Mr. Colesworth and
his son. If they got other boarders, a goodly share of _their_ weekly
stipends could be added on the profit side of the ledger.
Lucas helped them for a couple of hours Monday morning, and the girls
managed to put the room the newcomers had chosen into readiness for the
old gentleman. Lucas drove to town to meet Mr. Colesworth. Lucas was
beginning to make something out of the Bray girls' project, too, and he
grinned broadly as he said to 'Phemie:
"I'm goin' to be able to put up for a brand new buggy nex' fall, Miss
'Phemie--a better one than Joe Badger's got. What 'twixt this cartin'
boarders over the roads, and makin' Miss Lyddy's garden, I'm going to be
well fixed."
"On the road to be a millionaire; are you, Lucas?" suggested 'Phemie,
laughing.
"Nope. Jest got one object in view," grinned Lucas.
"What's that?"
"I wanter drive you to church in my new buggy, and make Joe Badger an'
that Nettie Meyers look like thirty cents. That's what _I_ want."
"Oh, Lucas! _That_ isn't a very high ambition," she cried.
"But it's goin' to give me an almighty lot of satisfaction," declared the
young farmer. "You won't go back on me; will yer, Miss 'Phemie?"
"I'll ride with you--of course," replied 'Phemie. "But I'd just as lief
go in the buckboard."
"Now _that_," said the somewhat puzzled Lucas, "is another thing that
makes you gals diff'rent from the gals around here."
Old Mr. Colesworth came and made himself at home very quickly. He played
cribbage with Mr. Bray in the evening while the girls did up the work and
sewed; and during the early days of his stay with them he proved to be a
very pleasant old gentleman, with few crotchets, and no special demands
upon the girls for attention.
He walked a good deal, proved to be something of a geologist, and pottered
about the rocky section of the farm with a little hammer and bag for hours
together.
As Mr. Bray could walk only a little way, Mr. Colesworth did most of his
rambling about Hillcrest alone. And he grew fonder and fonder of the
place as the first week advanced.
As far as his entertainment went, he could have no complaint as to that,
for he was getting all that Lyddy had promised him--a comfortable bed,
a fire on his hearth when he wanted it, and the same plain food that the
family ate.
The girls of Hillcrest Farm had received no further answer to their
advertisement, but the news that they were keeping boarders had gone
broadcast over the ridge, of course. Silas Trent would have spread this
bit of news, if nobody else.
But on Saturday morning, soon after breakfast, Mr. Somers's old gray mare
turned up their lane, and Lyddy put on a clean apron and rolled down her
sleeves to go out and speak to the school teacher.
"That's a very good thing about that lane," 'Phemie remarked, aside. "It
is just long enough so that, if we see anybody turn in, we can primp a
little before they get to the house."
"Miss Bray," said the teacher, hopping out of his buggy and shaking hands,
"you see me here, a veritable beggar."
"A beggar?" queried Lyddy, in surprise.
"Yes, I have come to beg a favor. And a very great one, too."
"Why--I----"
He laughed and went on to explain--yet his explanation at first puzzled
her.
"Where do you suppose I slept last night, Miss Bray?" he asked.
"In your bed," she returned.
"Wrong!"
"Is it a joke--or a puzzle?"
"Why, I had to sleep in the barn. You see, thus far this term I have
boarded with Sam Larribee. But yesterday his boy came down with the
measles. He had been out of school for several days--had been visiting the
other side of the ridge. They think he caught it there--at his cousin's.
"However," continued Mr. Somers, "that does not help me. When I came home
from school and heard the doctor's report, I refused to enter the house.
We don't want an epidemic of measles at Pounder's School.
"So I slept in the barn with Old Molly, here. And now I must find another
boarding place. They--er--tell me, Miss Bray, that you intend to take
boarders?"
"Why--er--yes," admitted Lyddy, faintly.
"You have some already?"
"Mr. Colesworth and his son. They have just come."
"Couldn't you put me--and Molly--up for the rest of the term?" asked the
school teacher, laughing.
"Why, I don't know but I could," said Lyddy, her business sense coming to
her aid. "I--why, yes! I am quite sure about _you_; but about the horse, I
do not know."
"You surely have a stall to spare?"
"Plenty; but no feed."
"Oh, I will bring my own grain; and I'll let her pasture in your orchard.
She doesn't work hard and doesn't need much forage except what she can
glean at this time of year for herself."
"Well, then, perhaps it can be arranged," said Lyddy. "Will you come in
and see what our accommodations are?"
And so that is how another boarder came to Hillcrest Farm. Mr. Somers
chose one of the smaller rooms upstairs, and agreed to pay for his own
entertainment and pasturage for his horse--six dollars and a half a week.
It was a little more than he had been paying at Larribee's, he said--but
then, Mr. Somers wanted to come to Hillcrest.
He drove away to get his trunk out of the window of his bedroom at the
measles-stricken farmhouse down the hill; he would not risk entering by
the door for the sake of his other pupils.
A little later Lucas drove up from town with Harris Colesworth and his bag.
"Say!" whispered the lanky farmer, leaning from his seat to whisper to
'Phemie. "I hear tell you've got school teacher for a boarder, too? Is
that so?"
"What of it?" demanded 'Phemie, somewhat vexed.
"Oh, nawthin'. Only ye oughter seen Sairy's face when maw told her!"