A WELCOME SHELTER
A piano stood open, and Daisy sat at it, striking a few chords of
"Home, Sweet Home."
This made them all laugh, but Farnsworth said, reprovingly, "Come away
from that, Daisy. We have to enter this house to shelter ourselves, but
we needn't spoil their belongings unnecessarily."
Daisy pouted, but she came away from the piano, having already left
many drops of water on its keys and shining rosewood case.
Patty smiled appreciatively at Bill's thoughtfulness, but said, with
growing alarm:
"Where DO you suppose the people are? They MUST have heard us come in,
even if they were sound asleep."
"It's pretty queer, I think," said Jack.
"Oh!" cried Daisy, "what do you mean? Do you think there's anything
WRONG?" and she began to cry, in sheer, hysterical fright and
discomfort.
"It IS queer," agreed Bill, looking out into the hall, and listening.
Then Patty's practical good sense came to her aid.
"Nonsense!" she said. "You're an ungrateful bunch! Here you have
shelter from the storm, and you all begin to cry! Well, no," she added,
smiling, "you boys are not exactly crying,--but if you were girls, you
WOULD be! Now, behave yourselves, and brace up to this occasion! First,
there's a fireplace, and here's a full woodbox. Build a roaring fire,
and let's dry off a little. Meantime, I wish you two men would go over
the house, and find out who's in it. Daisy and I will stay here."
"_I_ won't stay here alone with Patty," sobbed Daisy, who was shaking
with nervous fear.
"There, there, Daisy," said Bill, "don't cry. I'll fix it. Miss
Fairfield, you're a brick! Your ideas, as I shall amend them, are fine!
Pennington, you stay here with the girls, and build the biggest fire
you can make. I'll investigate this domicile, and see if the family are
really the Seven Sleepers, or if they're surely afraid to come
downstairs, for fear we're burglars."
Patty flashed a glance of admiration at the big fellow, but she only
said:
"Go along, Little Billee; but hurry back and dry yourself before you
catch pneumonia."
Bill went off whistling, and Jack and Patty built a rousing fire. The
woodbox was ample and well filled, and the fireplace, a wide one, and
the crackling flames felt most grateful to the wet refugees. Jack
wanted to go after Farnsworth, but Daisy wouldn't hear of it, so he
stayed with the girls. Soon Big Bill returned, smiling all over his
good-natured face.
"Not a soul in the whole house!" he reported. "I've been all over it,
from attic to cellar. Everything in good order; beds made up, and so
forth. But no food in the larder, so I assume the family has gone away
for a time."
"Well, of all funny situations!" exclaimed Patty. Cheered by the
warmth, her face was smiling and dimpling, and her drying hair was
curling in soft tendrils all over her head.
"Come to the fire, Little Billee, and see if you can't begin to
commence to dry out a little bit."
"I've just washed my hair, and I can't do a thing with it!" said Big
Bill, comically, as he ran his fingers through his thick mane of brown,
wavy hair. "But, I say, this fire feels good! Wow! but I'm damp! I say,
Pennington, I've been thinking."
"Hard?"
"Yes, hard. Now you must all listen to me. I expect opposition, but it
doesn't matter. What I'm going to say now, GOES! See?"
Bill looked almost ferocious in his earnestness, and Patty looked at
him with admiration. He was so big and powerful, physically, and now
his determined face and strongly set jaw betokened an equal mental
power. "I'm at the head of this expedition, and in the present
emergency, my word is law!" He banged his clenched fist on the mantel,
as he stood before the fire, and seemed fairly to challenge a reply.
"Well, go on," said Patty, laughing. "What's it all about?"
"It's just this. You two girls have got to stay in this house, ALONE,
while Pennington and I walk back to Spring Beach, NOW!"
"Good gracious! What for?" exclaimed
Patty, while Daisy screamed, "I WON'T do it! I WON'T stay here alone!"
"Be quiet," said Bill, looking at Daisy sternly. "You MUST do as I say."
"You're right, Farnsworth," said Jack Pennington. "It's nearly one
o'clock, and we must start right off."
"Yes," agreed Bill. "Now, Miss Fairfield, I assure you, you will be
perfectly safe here. It isn't a pleasant prospect, but there's nothing
else to be done. The house is securely fastened against intruders. You
can lock the drawing-room doors on this side, so the broken window need
cause you no uneasiness. We will walk back to 'Red Chimneys,' unless we
can get a lift somehow. But, at any rate, we will send a car back here
for you at the earliest possible moment."
"It IS the only thing to do," agreed Patty; "but I hate to have you
boys start out so wet. Can't you borrow from your host's wardrobe?"
"Good idea!" laughed Bill. "I saw some men's raincoats in the hall. I
think we will appropriate them, eh, Pennington?"
With very few further words, the two men took possession of raincoats,
rubbers, and umbrellas belonging to their unknown hosts, and went out
through the open, broken window into the night. It was still raining,
but not so hard, and Bill called back cheerily, "Good-night, ladies,"
as they tramped away.
"It's awful," Daisy whimpered, "to leave us two girls here alone and
unprotected! I know we'll be robbed and murdered by highwaymen!"
"You're talking nonsense, Daisy," said Patty, sternly. "Now, look here,
if you'll just be friendly and decent, we needn't have such a bad time,
but if you're going to be cross and cry all the time, I shall simply
let you alone, and we'll have a horrid, uncomfortable time."
This straightforward, common-sense talk brought Daisy to her senses,
and though she still looked petulant, she made no more cross or unkind
speeches.
"What are you going to do?" she enquired as Patty took off her chiffon
gown, and held it carefully before the fire. "That frock is ruined."
"Yes, I know, but I'm going to pick it out and make it look as decent
as I can. I suppose I'll have to wear it home when I go. Take off
yours, and I'll dry them both nicely. I'm good at this sort of thing.
Here, I'll unhook it."
Daisy dropped her own party frock on the floor and showed little
interest as Patty picked it up and daintily fingered its frills into
something like shapeliness.
"Hunt around, Daisy," Patty said, knowing it best to keep the girl
occupied. "Surely you can find something to put round our shoulders. An
afghan or even a table cover would do for a dressing jacket."
Slightly interested, Daisy went into the next room and returned with
two lengths of brocaded silk.
"They're bookcase curtains," she explained. "I slipped the rings off
the pole. See, we can each have one."
"Good!" said Patty, draping the curtain round her shoulders, sontag
fashion. "These are fine. Now, see, I'm getting your dress quite fluffy
again."
"So you are. I'll finish it, and you do your own. Aren't you going to
bed, Patty?"
"No, not exactly. Suppose we sleep here. You take the couch, and I'll
doze in this big armchair."
"Are you--are you frightened, Patty?"
"N--no; NO! Of course I'm not! What's there to be afraid of?"
"Well--I am," and Daisy began to whimper, and then to cry.
"Daisy Dow! You stop that! I'd be all right if you'd behave yourself!
Now, don't you get hysterical! If you do, I'll--I'll telephone for the
doctor! Oh, Daisy! the TELEPHONE! WHY didn't we think of that before?
There MUST be one! Let's hunt for it."
Spurred by this new thought, Patty ran through the rooms in search of a
telephone. She found one in the back part of the hall, but, alas, it
had been disconnected and was useless.
"Bill must have found that out," Patty said, thoughtfully; "and he
didn't tell us."
"Why not?" demanded Daisy. "Why wouldn't he tell us?"
"Because he's so thoughtful and considerate. I feel sure he thought it
would make us feel more lonely if we knew the telephone was there, but
wouldn't work."
"Well, it does!" declared Daisy. "I'm so lonely and frightened and
miserable, I believe I'll die!"
"Oh, no, you won't," said Patty, cheerfully. "Now, I'll tell you what,
Daisy. You lie down on the couch,--here's a nice afghan to put over
you,--and I'll sing a little."
This sounded comfortable, so Daisy, now quite warm and dry, lay down,
and after tucking the afghan over her, Patty went to the piano. She
played a few soft chords, and then sang, softly, a crooning lullaby. It
is not surprising that under the influence of the soothing music, the
warm fire, and her own fatigue, Daisy soon fell sound asleep.
Assured of this, Patty left the piano, and sat in the big easy-chair in
front of the fire. She thought over their escapade, and though it was
certainly serious enough, she smiled to herself as she thought of the
humorous side of it. It certainly seemed funny for Daisy and herself to
be alone in a big, handsome, strange house,--wrapped in other people's
bookcase curtains! Then she thought of Big Bill and Jack trudging miles
and miles through the storm. What a splendid fellow Bill Farnsworth
was, anyhow! He had left no room for argument or even discussion; he
had decided there was but one way out of this situation, and he took
it. Jack had acquiesced, and had done as he was told, but Bill had been
the moving spirit. What good sense he had shown! And with what
forgetfulness of self he had accepted his own hard part of the
performance. Of course the boys wouldn't have to walk all the way to
Spring Beach. Of course they would manage somehow to get a conveyance,
but Bill had not bothered about such details; he had seen his way, and
had walked straight out into it. Surely he was a splendid man,--a big,
fine man,--and--he had taken her apple-blossom wreath,--and he had put
it in his pocket,--because--because--
And even as she thought of Bill's confiscation of her flowers, Patty's
golden head drooped a little, the long lashes fell over her blue eyes,
and in the sheltering depths of the soft-cushioned chair, she fell
sound asleep.
A few hours later she awoke. At first she couldn't realise where she
was, then, like a flash, the truth came to her. Greatly refreshed by
her nap, she jumped up, smiling.
The fire was out, so she rekindled it, and proceeded to don her dried
but sadly wilted looking party dress. She hesitated a moment, and then
concluded to wake Daisy, as a rescuing party might arrive at any minute.
Daisy sat up on her couch, and rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?" she
asked, not yet fully awake.
"I've no idea," said Patty, laughing. "I never wear my watch in the
evening. But," and she looked from the window as she raised the blind,
"I see streaks of pink, so that must be the east, and the sun is about
ready to rise. So up, up, Lucy, the sun is in the sky, or will be soon.
And I'm sure our deliverers will soon come to rescue us from this
durance vile!"
Patty was in high spirits now, and danced about the room while she
urged Daisy to get into her frock.
"Bookcase curtains are all very well for boudoir jackets," she said,
"but not fit for appearance in polite society. See, your frock looks
fairly well; a lot better than mine."
Sure enough the soft silk of Daisy's gown had stood its wetting much
better than Patty's chiffon, but they were both sad wrecks of the
dainty costumes they had been the evening before.
Patty flung open the windows, and let in the cool morning air, and as
she stepped out on the veranda she cried, "Oh, Daisy, here they come!"
A big touring car was visible at a distance, and in a moment Patty saw
that Farnsworth himself was driving it.
"Hooray!" he called, as he came nearer, and Mona, who sat beside him,
cried out, "Oh, Patty, Patty! Are you safe?"
"Safe? Of course I'm safe," said Patty, who despite her draggled dress,
looked like the incarnation of morning as she stood on the veranda, her
sweet face glad and smiling beneath its cloud of golden curls.
"Thank Heaven!" cried Big Bill, as he fairly flung himself out of his
driver's seat and rushed up to her. He almost took her in his arms, but
just checked his mad impulse in time, and grasping both her hands,
shook them vigorously up and down as he whispered, "Oh, my little girl!
You never can know what it cost me to go off and leave you here alone!"
His frank, honest blue eyes looked straight into her deep violet ones,
and his glance told eloquently of his remorse and regret for the
mischief he had thoughtlessly brought about.
Patty understood at once all his unspoken message, and smiled a full
and free forgiveness.
"It's all right, Little Billee," she said, softly. "You were a brave,
true friend, and I shall never forget your chivalry and true kindness."
A moment more he held her hands, gazing deep into her eyes, and then
turned abruptly to greet Daisy.