AN AXE TO GRIND.
Harvie and Shorty came in that afternoon with a great basket of crabs
for supper and countenances like boiled lobsters. Sunburn is as much a
part of the seashore as sand and water, and sometimes it is even more in
evidence. You can escape from the sand and water by going indoors and
pulling down the blinds, but your sunburned nose you have to take with
you.
The boys also brought the mail, a letter for Annie and one for me. My
letter contained the bad news that my dear father could not come to the
beach, after all, as Sally Winn was trying in dead earnest to die, and
could not do it without Dr. Allison. Annie's letter had, I am ashamed to
say, not such very good news, either, as it said that Mr. Pore had
decided to come to Willoughby for a few days. We girls secretly dreaded
this visit. We could not help knowing that Mr. Pore was very stiff and
strait-laced, and we feared the effect he might have on poor little
Annie. Annie was having such a good time and it did seem a pity to
interrupt it.
"I do wish Zebedee would not be so promiscuous with his invitations,"
stormed Dum, who was escorting me as far as the hotel where I was going
to pay a duty call on Cousin Park. "He was certainly not called on to
ask this old dried-up Englishman down here. He could have been polite
without being so effusive. It is going to ruin things for Annie, I just
know."
"Maybe it won't," I suggested, speaking for moderation that I did not
feel. "Harvie Price says he is a very cultivated, interesting man."
"Oh, yes, I know the kind! I bet you he says position for job; and
rabble for mob; retires when he goes to bed; and arises when he gets up;
calls girls, maidens; women, females; ladies, gentlewomen; birds,
feathered songsters; and dogs, canines. Ugh! I just know he is going to
be a wet blanket."
"Well, Dum, your father got on with him and seemed to like him very
much. Maybe we can hit it off with him, too."
"Oh, that's nothing! Zebedee can get on with human oysters and clams and
make animated pokers unbend. Why, that young father of ours is such a
mixer he could even make ice cream and crabs agree. But that's no sign
that Annie's paternal parent is not going to be a difficult guest. If it
only had been dear Dr. Allison coming instead!"
I agreed with her there, but I tried to make impulsive, hot-headed Dum
feel that the best thing we could do was to try to see the good in Mr.
Pore for Annie's sake if not for his own. I was dying to tell her of the
interesting things that Annie had divulged to me about her family, but a
confidence is a confidence and must be respected as such. For my part,
it seemed foolish to keep such an item as being kin to the nobility so
strictly a secret. I don't believe that many Virginians would feel that
being granddaughter to a baronet and great-granddaughter to an earl,
something to be hid under a bushel. I fancy that Annie felt her clothes
and general manner of living to be rather incongruous to such
greatness.
We found Cousin Park ensconsed on the porch in a steamer chair, knitting
an ugly grey shawl with purple scallops, while Mabel Binks, who had
returned from her expedition to Newport News with Wink, danced
attendance on the pompous lady.
"I bet she's got an axe to grind!" muttered Dum. "What do you fancy
Mabel wants to get out of your cousin?"
"I can't imagine, but I'll take my hat off to her if she gets it," I
laughed. "Please come on and call with me. I can't face Mabel and Cousin
Park at the same time," I begged Dum, and she good-naturedly complied,
although I know she hated it.
Cousin Park greeted us with what was meant to be a cordial manner, and
Mabel was almost effusive as she got us chairs and took upon herself to
do the honours of the hotel porch.
"I rather expected you this morning, Page," said Cousin Park, looking
over her spectacles at me. This habit of my relative of looking over
her spectacles at you would have made a person as mild as a May morning
appear fierce, and its effect on Cousin Park's far from mild countenance
was disconcerting in the extreme; but I did not feel nearly so
uncomfortable with her as I had heretofore. Had I not seen her tap Judge
Grayson with her turkey-tail fan, and listen with a pleasure that seemed
almost human to the old man's recitation of the poem?
"We slept so late after the dance that there was no time to do anything
this morning, and then Judge Grayson came to luncheon and that kept us
all the early part of the afternoon. I also had a letter to write
today."
"Ah, a very pleasant, well-mannered man, the Judge," said Cousin Park.
"The legal profession should be proud of such a representative." Dum and
I smothered a giggle at this, as Zebedee had confided to us that our
charming old friend was only judge by courtesy. We said nothing,
however. Far be it from us to lessen his dignity by one jot or tittle.
"We are to have another guest tomorrow," broke in Dum, in order to
change the subject from Judge Grayson's doubtful legal rights. "Mr.
Pore, Annie's father, is coming to visit us."
Mrs. Garnett snorted and Mabel's lip curled, but they said nothing to
Dum. However, the minute my friend left us, which she did after a moment
to speak to an acquaintance she spied at the other end of the long
porch, their eloquence was opened up on me.
"I can't see why Jeffry Tucker should ask such a man to stay in the
house with an Allison. I am told he is nothing but a little country
store-keeper, just the commonest kind of Englishman, lower middle class,
no doubt. It is bad enough to have his daughter, although she is very
pretty and seems well mannered; but such acquaintances that cannot be
continued in later life should be discouraged. I never did approve of
your going to Gresham, but Sue Lee, with the democratic notions that she
has picked up in Washington, insisted that it would be best for you to
make a wide acquaintance. I thought a select home school where there
were accommodations for very few girls would be much more desirable. One
would at least know who the persons were you were meeting and you would
be spared such embarrassing situations as you are now finding yourself
in. I think you had better excuse yourself and come to the hotel and
visit me. I could take you in my room without much inconvenience to
myself."
"Thank you, Cousin Park! I would not inconvenience you even a little bit
for the world, nor would I leave my friends until my visit with them is
finished. Annie Pore is as much my friend as she is the Tuckers', and I
love her dearly and have found her a perfect lady on all occasions. Mr.
Tucker is acquainted with Mr. Pore and his judgment as to who is a
suitable person to introduce to us is to be relied on implicitly. Mr.
Pore is not a common Englishman at all but a very cultivated,
highly-educated gentleman." How I did long to spring Sir Isaac Pore and
the Earl of Garth on them! There are times when I wish I did not have
such a keen sense of honour. It certainly does restrict your actions and
words at very inconvenient moments.
"He may be educated but hardly a gentleman," said Cousin Park, dropping
stitches in her indignation. "One would hardly find a gentleman
weighing out lard and drawing kerosene from a barrel for his darkey
customers, and that is what Miss Binks tells me this Pore is accustomed
to do."
"Ah!" I thought, "I fancied I could see Mabel Binks' fine Italian hand
in this. She has never forgiven Annie since the Seniors gave her a cheer
when she arrived at Gresham, all because the shy little English girl
stood up for herself and downed the dashing Mabel with the retort
courteous."
"I quite agree with you, Mrs. Garnett, about Gresham's being entirely
too democratic. My mother was shocked when I told her of some of the
ordinary looking, badly dressed girls Miss Peyton had allowed to enter.
It used to be quite select. I am glad I am through. I am dying to come
out this next winter," continued Mabel. "Richmond society is so
charming. I envy these girls who can come out there. I have a cousin who
lives there but she is not one bit sociable and it is not very much fun
to visit her." I was beginning to see Mabel's axe as her grinding was
quite evident.
"I shall be glad to have you visit me," said Cousin Park. "I have not
chaperoned a girl for some years, but no doubt I could make you have a
very nice time."
"Oh, how lovely of you!" and Mabel's expression was indeed triumphant as
she picked up Cousin Park's ball of purple yarn and restored it to that
lady's rather precarious lap. I could have told Mabel that it was not
such a sweet boon as she fancied: to visit the grand Garnett mansion. I
thought of Jeremiah, the blue-gummed butler, with his solemn air of
officiating at a funeral; of the oiled walnut furniture with its heavy
uncomfortable carving, sure to hit you in the small of the back if you
sought repose in one of the stiff hair cloth covered chairs, or to find
a tender place on your shins when you passed a bureau or bed. I thought
of the interminable, heavy dinners: roast mutton and starchy vegetables
topped off with plum pudding or something equally rich and filling. I
could fancy the line of family portraits, hung high against the ceiling,
looking their disapproval at the far from dignified Mabel and plainly
showing their wonderment that she should have found her way into their
august presence.
Those old portraits will little dream how much Mabel had fetched and
carried for that invitation; how many cushions she had arranged and
rearranged behind the plump back of the present owner of the portraits;
how many tiresome moments she had spent holding the skeins of grey and
purple yarn for Mrs. Garnett to wind her fat knitting balls. She had
also gathered bits of pleasing gossip to retail to the willing ear of my
relative. Cousin Park was the type ever ready and delighted to be
scandalized. The day after the sail that we had spent in dough masks,
Mabel had evidently spent in the mask of a lively, agreeable, obliging
girl, doing everything in her power to make herself attractive to her
possible hostess. Success was hers! A long visit in Richmond in her
debutante winter with one of the wealthiest members of society meant a
good deal to that young lady. Mabel's mother belonged to a very good
family but her father's name, Binks, is enough to show that at least he
was not of the F. F. V's. Wink White, who was a cousin of Mrs. Binks,
had confided to me that he rather preferred Mr. Binks to Mrs.
"The fact that she married old Binks for his money and now is ashamed of
him shows about what kind Cousin Florence is," he had said.
Having said all I could say in defense of Mr. Pore, and having played so
well into Mabel's hands that, by giving her a chance to agree so readily
and heartily with Cousin Park, her invitation had come much more easily
than she had dared to hope, I felt sure, I now took my departure with
Dum. It should have made no difference to me how many visits Mabel Binks
would pay in Richmond, but it did. I well knew what her game was there:
she was determined to attract Mr. Jeffry Tucker, and had been from the
moment she had seen him at Gresham, when he took Tweedles there to enter
them at school. I well knew that Zebedee gave her not a moment's
thought, but if she pursued him enough he might change his mind about
her. She was certainly handsome and quite bright and entertaining.
Tweedles would not be there to protect their young father and he was but
human, very human, in fact. I felt depressed on the way back to our
cottage, so much so that Dum noticed it and begged me to cheer up.
"Your cousin is enough to make you blue, but remember that everyone has
some scrubby kin. Just think of poor Annie and what oceans of spirits we
will have to produce to drown her sorrow and depression when her
respected parent arrives!"
I threw off my gloom the best I could and let Dum go on thinking it was
Cousin Park who had cast the spell over me. I knew quite well that if I
even hinted at Mabel and her machinations, Tweedles would refuse to go
back to Gresham but stay in Richmond all winter to guard their precious
Zebedee.