The routine of college classes became settled at last, and gradually
the young people found bits of leisure for the family life which they
craved and loved. Allison came in one day, and announced that he had
bought a canoe.
"It's a peach, Cloudy, and I got it cheap from a fellow that has to
leave college. His father has got a job out in California, and they
are going to move, and want to transfer him to a Western college so he
won't be so far away from them. I got it for fifteen dollars with all
the outfit, and it's only been used one season. But he couldn't take
it with him. There are three paddles and two cushions and some rugs
belonging to it, and I've arranged to keep it down behind the inn so
it won't be far for us to go to it. Now, I want you to be ready to
take a trial trip this afternoon at three when Leslie and I get
through our classes."
With much inward questioning but entire loyalty Julia Cloud yielded
herself to the uncertainties of canoeing, but it needed but that first
trip to make her an ardent admirer of that form of recreation.
Re-creation it really seemed to her to be, as she sank among the
pillows in the comfortable nest the children had prepared for her, and
felt herself glide out upon the smooth bosom of the creek into the
glow of the autumn afternoon. For in the shelter of the winding ravine
where the creek wandered the frost had not yet completed its work, and
the trees were still in glowing colors, blending brilliantly with the
dark green of the hemlock. A few stark trunks were bare and bleak
against the sky in unsheltered places, but for the most part the banks
of the creek still set forth a most pleasing display to the
nature-lover who chose to come and see. Winding dark and soft and
still, with braided ripples here and there, and little floating brown
leaves that slithered against the boat as they passed, the creek
meandered between the hills, now turning almost upon itself around a
mossy, grassy stretch of meadow-land, skirting a chestnut-grove, or
slipping beneath great rocks that cropped out on the hillside, where
moss had crept in a lovely carpet, and graceful hemlocks found a
foothold and leaned over to dip in the water and brush the faces of
those who passed. Up, up, and up, through the frantic little rapids
that bubbled and fought and were conquered, into the stiller waters
above, between banks all dark and green and quiet, most brilliantly
and cunningly embroidered with exquisite squawberry vines and scarlet
berries. It was most entrancing, and Julia Cloud was reluctant to come
home. No need ever to coax her any more. She was ready always to go in
that canoe, jealous of anything that prevented a chance to go.
Often she and Cherry, instead of getting a hot lunch at home, would
put up the most delectable lunch in paper boxes, and when the children
came home she would be ready to go right down to the canoe and spend
two delightful hours floating up and down the creek and eating an
unconscionable number of sandwiches and cakes. This happened most
often on Wednesdays, when the children had no classes from eleven
o'clock until three and there was time to take the noon hour in a
leisurely way. Not even cool weather coming on could daunt them.
Steamer-rugs and warm sweaters and gloves were requisitioned, and the
open-air lunches went on just the same. One day they took a pot of hot
soup and three small bowls and spoons. They landed at the great rocks,
and, climbing up, built a fire and gave their soup another little
touch of heat before they ate it. Such experiences welded their hearts
more and more together, and Julia Cloud came to be more and more a
part of the lives of these two young people who had taken her for
their mother-in-love.
It was on these outings that they talked over serious problems:
whether Leslie should join one of the girls' sororities, what they
should do about the next Christian Endeavor meeting, why it was that
Howard Letchworth and Jane Bristol were so much more interesting than
any of their other friends, why Cloudy did not like to have Myrtle
Villers come to the house, and what Allison was going to do in life
when he got through with college. They were absolutely one in all
their thoughts and wishes just at this time, and there was not
anything that any one of them would not willingly talk over with the
others. It was a beautiful relation, and one that Julia Cloud daily,
tremblingly prayed might last, might find nothing to break it up.
By this time the young people had begun to bring their college mates
to the house, and everybody up there was crazy for an invitation to
the little lunches and dinners and pleasant evening gatherings that
had begun to be so popular. There were not wanting the usual
"boy-crazy" girls, who went eagerly trailing Allison, literally
begging him for rides and attention, and making up to Julia Cloud and
Leslie in the most sickening of silly girl fashions.
And of these Myrtle Villers was at once the most subtle and least
attractive. Julia Cloud had an intuitive shrinking from her at the
start, although she tried in her sweet, Christian way to overcome it
and do as much for this girl as she was trying to do for all the
others who came into their home. But Myrtle Villers was quick to
understand, and played her part so well that it was impossible to
shake her off as some might have been shaken. She studied Leslie like
an artist, and learned how to play upon her frank, emotional,
impulsive nature. She confided in her, telling the sorrows of an
unloved life, and her longings for great and better things, and fell
to attending Christian Endeavor most strenuously. She was always
coming home with Leslie for overnight and being around in the way.
Allison did not like her in the least, and Julia Cloud barely
tolerated her; but, as the weeks went by, Leslie began to champion
her, to tell the others they were unfair to the girl, and that she
really had a sincere heart and a lovely nature, which had been crushed
by loneliness and sorrow. Allison always snorted angrily when Leslie
got off anything like that, and habitually absented himself whenever
he knew "the vamp," as he called her, was to be there.
It was one day quite late in the fall, almost their last balmy picnic
before the cold weather set in, that they were sitting up on the rocks
around a pleasant, resinous pine-needle fire they had made, discussing
this. Allison was maintaining that it was not good for Leslie to go
with a girl like that, that all the fellows despised; and Leslie was
pouting and saying she didn't see why he had to be so prejudiced and
unfair; and Julia Cloud was looking troubled and wondering whether
her heart and her head were both on the wrong side, or what she ought
to do about it, when a step behind them made them all turn around
startled. It was the first time they had been interrupted by an
intruder in this retreat, and it had come to seem all their own.
Moreover, the cocoa on the fire was boiling, and the lunch was about
to be served on the little paper plates.
There stood a tall man with a keen, care-worn face, a scholarly air,
and an unmistakably wistful look in his eyes.
"Why, is this where you spend your nooning, Cloud? It certainly looks
inviting," he said with a comprehensive glance at the wax-papered
sandwiches and the little heap of cakes and fruit.
Allison arose with belated recognition.
"O Dr. Bowman," he said, "let me introduce you to my aunt, Miss Cloud,
and my sister Leslie."
The scholarly gentleman bowed low in acknowledgment of the introduction,
and fairly seemed to melt under the situation.
"Well, now, this certainly is delightful!" he said, still eying the
generously spread rock table. "Quite an idea! Quite an idea! Is this
some special occasion, some celebration or something?" He glanced
genially round on the group.
"Oh, no, we often bring our lunch out here," said Julia Cloud in a
matter-of-fact tone. "It keeps us out-of-doors, and makes a pleasant
change." There was finality in her tone, and a sensitive-minded
professor would have moved on at once, for the cocoa was boiling over,
and had to be rescued, and he might have seen they did not want him;
but he lingered affably.
"Well, that certainly is an original idea. Quite so. It really makes
one quite hungry to think of it. That certainly looks like an
attractive repast."
There was nothing for it but to invite him to partake, which Allison
did as curtly as he dared, considering that the intruder was one of
his major professors, and hoping sincerely that he would refuse. But
Professor Bowman did not refuse. No such good chance, and quite to
Julia Cloud's annoyance--for she wanted to have the talk out with her
children--he sat himself down on the rock as if he were quite
acclimated to picnics in November, and accepted so many sandwiches
that Leslie, seated slightly behind and out of his sight, made mock
signs of horror lest there should not be enough to go around.
It appeared that he had started out to search for his pocket-knife,
which his young son had borrowed and lost somewhere in that region as
nearly as he could remember, and thus had come upon the picnickers.
"Old pill!" growled Allison gruffly when at last the unwelcome guest
had departed hastily to a class, with many praises for his dinner and
a promise to call to see them in the near future. "Old pill! Now we'll
never dare to come here again as long as he's around. Bother him. I
wish I'd told him to go to thunder. We don't want him. He lives right
up here over that bluff. His wife's dead, and his sister or aunt or
something keeps house for him. She looks like a bottle of pickles!
Say, Cloudy, we'll just be out evenings for a while till he forgets
it."
But Dr. Bowman did not forget it as Allison had hoped. He came the
very next week on a stormy night when no one in his senses would go
out if he could help it; and there were the gay little household, with
the addition of Jane Bristol and Howard Letchworth, down on their
knees before the fire, roasting chestnuts, toasting marshmallows,
and telling stories. His grim, angular presence descended upon the
joyous gathering like a wet blanket; and the young people subsided
into silence until Leslie, rising to the occasion, went to the
piano and started them all singing. A wicked little spirit seemed
to possess her, and she picked out the most jazzy rag-time she
could find, hoping to freeze out the unwelcome guest, but he sat
with patient set smile, and endured it, making what he seemed to
think were little pleasantries to Julia Cloud, who sat by, busy with
some embroidery. She, poor lady, was divided between a wicked
delight at the daring of the children and a horror of reproach
that they should be treating a college professor in this rude manner.
She certainly gave him no encouragement; and, when he at last rose to
go, saying he had spent a very pleasant and profitable evening getting
acquainted with his students, and he thought he should soon repeat
it, she did not ask him to return. But he was a man of the kind who
needs no encouragement, and he did return many times and often,
until he became a fixed institution, which taxed all their faculties
inventing ways of escape from him. The winter went, and Dr. Bowman
became the one fly in the pleasant ointment of Cloud Villa.
"We'll just have to send Cloudy away awhile, or put her to bed and
pretend she is sick every time he comes, or something!" said Leslie
one night, after his departure had made them free to express their
feelings. "We've tried everything else. He just won't take a hint!
What do you say, Cloudy; will you play sick?"
"My dear!" said Julia Cloud aghast, "he doesn't come to see me! What
on earth put that in your head?" Her face was flaming scarlet, and
distress showed in every feature.
The children fairly shouted.
"You dear, old, blind Cloudy, of course he does! Who on earth else
would he come to see?"
"But," said Julia Cloud, tears coming into her eyes, "he mustn't. I
don't want to see him! Mercy!"
"That's all right, Cloudy; you should worry! I'll go tell him so if
you want me to."
"Allison! You wouldn't!" said Julia Cloud, aghast.
"No, of course not, Cloudy, but we'll find a way to get rid of the old
pill if we have to move away for a while."
Nevertheless, the old pill continued to come early and often, and
there seemed no escape; for he was continually stealing in on their
privacy at the most unexpected times and acting as if he were sure of
a welcome. The children froze him, and were rude, and Julia Cloud
withdrew farther and farther; but nothing seemed to faze him.
"It's too bad to have so much sweetness wasted," mocked Leslie one
night at the supper-table when their unwelcome visitor had been a
subject of discussion. "Miss Detliff is eating her heart out for him.
She's always noseying round in the hall when his class is out, and
it's about time for hers to begin, just to get a word with him. She
kept us waiting for our papers ten whole minutes the other day while
she discussed better classroom ventilation with him. 'O Doctah, don't
you think we might do something about this mattah of ventilation?'"
she mimicked, convulsing Allison with her likeness to her English
teacher.
"That's an idea!" said Allison suddenly. "No, don't ask me what it is.
It would spoil things. Cloudy, may I bring a guest to dinner to-morrow
night?"
"Certainly, anybody you please," replied Julia Cloud innocently; and
the incorrigible Allison appeared the next afternoon with Miss
Detliff, smiling and pleased, sitting up in the back seat of the car.
Julia Cloud received her graciously, and never so much as suspected
anything special was going on until later in the evening, when Dr.
Bowman arrived and was ushered in to find his colaborer there before
him. He did not look especially pleased, and Julia Cloud caught a
glance of intelligence passing between Leslie and Allison, with a
sudden revelation of a plot behind it all. During the entire evening
she sat quietly, saying little, but her eyes dancing with the fun of
it. What children they were, and how she loved them! yes, and what a
child she was herself! for she couldn't help loving their pranks as
well as they did.
However, though Dr. Bowman had to take Miss Detliff home, and got very
little satisfaction out of his call that evening, it did not
discourage him in the least, and Julia Cloud decided that extreme
measures were necessary to rid them of his presence.
"We might go away during Thanksgiving week; only there's the Christian
Endeavor banquet," said Leslie. "We couldn't be away from that. And
then I wanted to have Jane to dinner. She's gone up to college this
week to live. She's doing office work there, and she'll be alone on
Thanksgiving Day."
"Yes, and there's Howard. I thought we'd have him here," put in
Allison dubiously.
"Of course!" said Julia Cloud determinedly. "And we don't want to go
away, anyway. You children run up to your rooms this evening and
study. Stay there, I mean, no matter who comes. Do you understand?"
With a curious look at her they both obeyed; and a little later, when
the knocker sounded through the house, they sat silently above, not
daring to move, and heard their aunt open the door, heard Dr. Bowman's
slow, scholarly voice and Julia Cloud's even tones, back and forth for
a little while, and then heard the front door open and shut again, and
slow steps go down the brick terrace and out to the sidewalk.
What passed in that interview no one ever knew. Julia Cloud came to
the foot of the stairs, and called them down, and her eyes were
shining and confident as she sat by the lamp and sewed while they
studied and joked in front of the fire; but the unwelcome guest came
no more, and whenever they met him in the street, or at receptions, or
passing at a college game, he gave them a distant, pleasant bow; that
was all. Julia Cloud had done the work well, however she had done it.
The little Bowmans need not look to her to fill their mother's place,
for she was not so minded.
Meantime, the winter had been going on, and the little pink-and-white
house was becoming popular among the students at college as well as
among the members of the Christian Endeavor Society of the little
brick church. Many an evening specially picked groups of girls or boys
or both spent before that fire, playing games, and talking, and
singing. Sometimes the college glee-club came down and had dinner.
Again it was the football team that was feasted. Another time
Allison's frat came for his birthday, aided and abetted by his sister
and aunt.
Jane Bristol became a frequent visitor, though not so frequent as they
would have liked to have her, for her time was very much taken up with
her work and her studies. Julia Cloud often wished she might lift the
financial burden from the young shoulders and make things easier for
her, both for her own sake and Leslie's, who would have liked to make
her her constant companion; but Jane Bristol was too independent to
let anybody help her, and there seemed no way to do anything about it.
Meantime, Myrtle Villers improved each idle hour, and kept Leslie busy
inventing excuses to get away from her, and Julia Cloud busy worrying.
Leslie was so dear, but she was also self-willed. And she would go off
with that wild girl in the car for long rides. Not that Julia Cloud
worried about the driving; for Leslie was most careful, and handled a
car as if she had been born with the knowledge, as indeed she did all
things athletic; but her aunt distrusted the other girl.
And then one clear, cold afternoon in December Leslie went off for a
ride in the car with Myrtle. Of course Julia Cloud did not know that
the girl had pestered the life out of Leslie for the ride, and had
finally promised that, if she would go, she would stop going with a
certain wild boy in the village of whom Leslie disapproved. Neither
did she know that Leslie had resolved never to go again without her
aunt along. So she sat at the window through the short winter
afternoon, and watched and waited in vain for the car to return; and
Allison came back at half-past six after basket-ball practice, and
still Leslie had not appeared.