AUNT ADELAIDE
The next morning Patty was making one of her "peregrinating toilettes."
She could dress as quickly as any one, if occasion required; but, if
not, she loved to walk slowly about as she dressed, pausing now and
then to look out of a window or into a book. So she dawdled through her
pretty rooms, brushing her curly golden mop, and singing softly to
herself.
"Come in," she said, in answer to a tap at her door, and Mona burst in,
in a wild state of excitement.
"Aunt Adelaide has arrived!" she exclaimed.
"Well, that isn't a national calamity, is it?" returned Patty. "Why
this look of dismay?"
"Wait till you see her! SHE'S a National Calamity!"
"Well, then, we must get Susan back again! But what's wrong with your
noble aunt?"
"Oh, Patty, she's so queer! I haven't seen her for some years, but
she's not a bit as I remembered her."
"Oh, don't take it too seriously. Perhaps we can make her over to suit
ourselves. Did you expect her so early?"
"No; but she said she came early to avoid the midday heat. It's almost
eleven. Do finish dressing, Patty, and come down to see her."
"Hasten me not, my child. Aunt Adelaide will keep, and I'm not in rapid
mood this morning."
"Oh, bother; come on down as you are, then. That negligee thing is all
right."
"No; Aunt Adelaide might think me a careless young person. I shall get
into a tidy frock, and appear before her properly."
"Well, go on and do it, then. I'll wait for you." Mona sat down to
wait, and Patty dropped into a chair before her dressing-table, and
soon twisted up her curls into presentable shape.
"I declare, Patty," Mona said, "the quicker you twist up that yellow
mop of yours, the more it looks like a coiffure in a fashion paper."
"And, as a rule, THEY look like the dickens. But describe the visitor
to me, Mona."
"No; I'll let you get an unbiased first impression. Here's Janet, now
DO get dressed."
Except on occasions of haste, or elaborate toilette, Patty preferred to
dress herself, but she submitted to Janet's ministrations, and in a few
minutes was hooked into a fresh morning dress of blue and white mull.
"On, Stanley, on!" she cried, catching Mona's hand, and dancing out
into the hall. "Where is the Calamity?"
"Hush, she'll hear you! Her rooms are just over here. She told me to
bring you."
As Patty afterward confided to Mona, she felt, when introduced to Mrs.
Parsons, as if she were making the acquaintance of a ghost.
The little lady was so thin, so pale, and so generally ethereal
looking, that it seemed as if a strong puff of wind would blow her away.
Her face was very white, her large eyes a pale blue, and her hair that
ashen tint which comes when light hair turns grey. The hand she
languidly held out to Patty was transparent, and so thin and limp that
it felt like a glove full of small bones. Her voice was quite in
keeping with her general air of fragility. It was high, thin and
piping, and she spoke as if every word were a tax on her strength.
"How do you do, my dear?" she said, with a wan little smile at Patty.
"How pretty you are! I used to be pretty, too; at least, so they told
me." She gave a trilling little laugh, and Patty said, heartily, "I'm
sure they were right; I approve their opinion."
This pleased Mrs. Parsons mightily, and she leaned back among her chair
cushions with a satisfied air.
Patty felt a distinct liking for the little lady, but she wondered how
she expected to perform a chaperon's duties for two vigorous, healthy
young girls, much inclined to gaieties.
"I am not ill," Mrs. Parsons said, almost, it seemed, in answer to
Patty's unspoken thought. "I am not very strong, and I can't stand hot
weather. But I am really well,--though of a delicate constitution."
"Perhaps the sea air will make you stronger after a time," suggested
Patty.
"Oh, I hope so; I hope so. But I fear not. However, I am trying a new
treatment, combined with certain medicines, which I am sure will help
my failing health. They tell me I am always trying new remedies. But,
you see, the advertisements recommend them so highly that I feel sure
they will cure me. And, then, they usually make me worse."
The little lady said this so pathetically that Patty felt sorry for her.
"But you have a doctor's advice, don't you?" she asked.
"No; I've no faith in doctors. One never knows what they put in their
old prescriptions. Now when I buy one of these advertised medicines,
they send me a lot of little books or circulars telling me all about
it. This last treatment of mine sends more reading matter, I think,
than any of the others, and their pamphlets are SO encouraging."
"But, Aunt Adelaide," broke in Mona, "if you're somewhat of an invalid,
how did you come to promise father that you'd look after us girls this
summer?"
"I'm not an invalid, my dear. I'm sure a few more weeks, or perhaps
less, of this cure I am trying now will make me a strong, hearty woman."
Patty looked at the weak little creature, and concluded that if any
medicine could make her strong and hearty, it must indeed be a cure-all.
"May I call you Aunt Adelaide, too?" she said, gently, for she wanted
to be on the pleasantest possible terms with Mrs. Parsons, and hoped to
be able to help her in some way.
"Yes, yes, my dear. I seem to take to you at once. I look upon you and
Mona both as my nieces and my loved charges. I had a little daughter
once, but she died in infancy. Had she lived, I think she would have
looked like you. You are very pretty, my dear."
"You mustn't tell me so, Aunt Adelaide," said Patty, smiling at her.
"It isn't good chaperonage to make your girls vain."
"Mona is pretty, too," went on Mrs. Parsons, unheeding Patty's words.
"But of a different type. She hasn't your air of refinement,--of class."
"Oh, don't discuss us before each other," laughed Mona, good-naturedly.
"And I'm jealous and envious enough of Patty already, without having
those traits fostered."
"Yes," went on Aunt Adelaide, reminiscently, "my little girl had blue
eyes and golden hair,--they said she looked like me. She was very
pretty. Her father was a plain-looking man. Good as gold, Henry was,
but plain looking. Not to say homely,--but just plain."
A faraway look came in the speaker's eyes, and she rambled on and on
about her lost husband and daughter, until Patty looked at Mona
questioningly.
"Yes, yes, Aunt Adelaide," Mona said, speaking briskly; "but now, don't
you want to change your travelling gown for something lighter? And then
will you lie down for a while, or come with us down to the west
veranda? It is always cool there in the morning."
"No, I don't want to lie down. I'll join you girls very shortly. I
suppose you have a maid for me, Mona? I shall need one for my exclusive
service."
"Oh, yes, Auntie; you may have Lisette."
"Not if she's French. I can't abide a French maid."
"Well, she is,--partly. Then I'll give you Mary. She's a good American."
"Americans have no taste. Is there a Norwegian girl on the place? I had
a Norwegian maid once, and she--"
"No, there isn't," said Mona, deeming it wise to cut short another
string of reminiscences. "You try Mary, and if you don't like her,
we'll see what we can do."
"Well--send her to me--and we'll see."
Mona rang for Mary, and then the two girls went down to the pleasant
and cool veranda.
"It's lucky you have such shoals of servants," said Patty. "At our
house, we couldn't give a guest a choice of nationalities."
"Oh, Patty, isn't she a terror?"
"Who, Mary?"
"No! Aunt Adelaide! It gives me the creeps to look at her. She's so
slight and fragile, I expect to see her go to pieces like a soap
bubble."
"She IS like a soap bubble, isn't she! But, Mona, you mustn't talk
about her like that. I feel sorry for her, she looks so ill and weak. I
think we ought to do all we can to cheer her up, and to restore her
health and strength. I'm sure she's refined and dainty in her way."
"Yes, she's all of that. But I don't see how she can do the chaperon
act."
"Oh, well, there isn't much to do. It's only the idea of having a
matronly lady here to observe the proprieties."
"But I don't believe she can do that. I think she'll take to her bed
soon. She ought to go to a good sanitarium."
"Nonsense, Mona, she isn't as ill as all that! Can't you see through
her? She's the sort of lady who likes to fancy she's ill, and likes to
try all sorts of quack medicines."
"Well, you can look after her, Patty; you seem to understand her so
well."
"All right, I will. Hush, here she comes."
Mrs. Parsons came slowly out to the veranda. She was followed by Mary,
carrying a fan, a light wrap, a book, a thermometer, and a glass of
lemonade.
"Sit here, won't you, Aunt Adelaide?" said Mona, politely offering a
comfortable wicker chair.
"I'll try this, my dear, but I fear it's too low for me. Can you get
another cushion or two?"
Mona went for more cushions, and then Aunt Adelaide had to have the
chair moved, for fear of a possible draught,--though there wasn't a
breath of wind stirring. Then a table must be moved nearer for the book
and the lemonade, and the thermometer placed where it would get neither
sun nor wind.
"I ALWAYS keep a thermometer near me," she explained, "and I always
bring my own, for otherwise I can't feel sure they are accurate."
Mrs. Parsons wore a dress of light grey lawn. Though cool looking, it
was unbecoming, for it had no touch of black or white to relieve its
monotony, and on the colourless lady it had a very dull effect. But,
though languid, Aunt Adelaide was quite able to give orders for what
she wanted. She sent Mary for another book, and for more sugar for her
lemonade. Then she fidgeted because a stray sunbeam came too near her.
"Mary," she said, petulantly. "Oh, I sent Mary away, didn't I? How long
she's gone! Mona, can't you find a screen somewhere to shade that sun a
little?"
"There are screens to roll down from the veranda roof, Aunt Adelaide;
but it is so shady here, and they cut off the breeze so. However, if
you want them down---"
"I certainly do," said the lady, and as Mary returned then, she lowered
the rattan blinds.
But they were no sooner down than Aunt Adelaide wanted them up again,
and when at last she became settled in comfort, she asked Mona to read
aloud to her.
"Please excuse me," said Mona, who was thoroughly annoyed at the
fussing and fidgeting ways of her aunt, "I am a very poor reader."
"I can read fairly well," said Patty, good-naturedly. "Let me try."
She picked up Mrs. Parson's book, secretly amused to find that its
title was "The Higher Health," and she began to read as well as she
could, and Patty really read very well.
"Don't go so fast," commanded her hearer; "valuable information like
this must be read slowly, with intervals for thought." But when Patty
provided pauses for thought, Aunt Adelaide said, petulantly, "Go on,
do; what are you waiting for?"
At last, Patty purposely let her voice grow monotonous and low, and
then, as she had hoped, Aunt Adelaide dropped into a doze.
Seeing that she was really asleep, Patty beckoned to Mona, and the two
girls slipped away, leaving Mary in charge.
"Oh, Patty!" cried Mona, as soon as they were out of hearing. "Isn't it
awful! How CAN we stand having such a horrid old fusser around?"
"Whoopee! Mona! moderate your language! Mrs. Parsons isn't so very old,
and she isn't horrid. If she's a fusser, that's just her way, and we
must politely submit to it."
"Submit, nothing! If you think, Patty Fairfield, that I'm going to be
taken care of by that worry-cat, you're greatly mistaken!"
"Stop, Mona! I won't let you call her such names; it isn't nice!"
"She isn't nice, either!"
"She's your aunt, and your guest; and you must treat her with proper
respect. She isn't an old lady; I don't believe she's fifty. And she IS
ill, and that makes her querulous." "Well, do you want to wait on her,
and read to her, and put up with her fussiness all summer?"
"It doesn't matter whether we want to or not. We have to do it. Your
father sent for her, and she's here. You can't send her away."
"I suppose that's so. But, oh, Patty, how I do dislike her! She's
changed so. When I saw her some years ago, she was sweet and gentle,
but not so fidgety and self-centred."
"You were so young then, Mona. You probably thought little about her
character. And, too, her ill health has come, and that has undoubtedly
ruffled her disposition."
"Well, she'll ruffle mine, if she stays here long."
"Of course she'll stay here, and we must make the best of it. Perhaps
we can train her to be a little less exacting. And then, too, you can
arrange to have the servants wait on her. You needn't do it yourself,
always."
"Patty, you're a great comfort. If anybody can train that woman, you
can. So please try, for as you say, she'll have to stay, I suppose,
until father comes home. Just think, she's father's own sister! But she
isn't a bit like him. Dad isn't fussy at all."
"No, your father is of a lovely disposition. And so kind and indulgent
to you, Mona."
"Yes; Dad is a darling. But we don't seem to get into the best society,
as he expected, when he built this big house. I wonder why."
"Don't bother about that now," said Patty, who was going to talk to
Mona some time on that very subject, but was not ready yet. "Now, as to
Aunt Adelaide, for I may as well call her that since she wishes it. I
think, Mona, the only way to manage her is to be always kind and sweet
to her, but not to let her impose upon us. I can see she is rather
exacting, and if we always give in to her whims, she will always expect
it. So let's start out, as we mean to continue. I'll read to her
occasionally, but I can't always be at her beck and call. Perhaps Janet
can do it."
"Yes, Janet is a good reader. But, of course, Aunt Adelaide would find
fault with her reading, as she did with yours."
"Yes, I expect that's her nature. But she'll be easy enough to get
along with, if we all play fair. We'll have to give and take. And don't
judge her by this morning. She was tired and worn, and, as yet, unused
to her new surroundings. She'll feel more at home to-morrow."
"She can't ACT more at home! Well, I'll give her a trial, Patty, but I
warn you, if she DOESN'T get placider, I'll suit myself with another
chaperon, that's what I'll do!"
The girls did not see their visitor again until luncheon time, and then
it was the same situation repeated. But few of the viands served at
table were acceptable to Aunt Adelaide. She provided the butler with
certain "health foods" of her own, and gave him elaborate instructions
for preparing them, and then found much fault with the results of his
labours. Patty had to laugh when Mrs. Parsons tasted, critically, a
dish the butler anxiously offered.
"You've cooked it too much!" she exclaimed; "or, no,--you've not cooked
it enough! I can scarcely tell WHICH it is,--but it isn't RIGHT!"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," said the surprised James. "Shall I cook another
portion?"
"No," said Mrs. Parsons, resignedly. "I'll make out with this, though
it is very distasteful."
As she had really eaten a hearty luncheon, Mona said only, "I am sorry,
Aunt Adelaide; but perhaps you will enjoy the ice cream." At which she
brightened perceptibly, saying:
"Yes, ice cream is my favourite dessert, and I hope, Mona, you will
have it often."
After luncheon the visitor departed for her own rooms, saying, "I hope,
my dears, you will excuse me now. I always take a nap at this hour, and
as it is so warm I will not reappear until about dinner time."
"Very well, Aunt Adelaide," said Mona, greatly pleased at the plan.
"Ring for Mary when you want her. Patty and I are going out this
afternoon, so we'll all meet at dinner time."
"Yes, my dear. And will you please order iced tea sent to me at four
o'clock, and have the house kept as quiet as possible during my nap
hour?"