THE VISIT
The morning after Rod's visit to Miss Arabella's, Mrs. Britt was busy
in the kitchen making doughnuts. The scouts were coming that
afternoon, and once a week, at least, she had some treat for them, and
she knew what they liked. Mrs. Britt's interest in the boys was as
keen as her husband's, and it gave her great pleasure to have them
about the house. Her home life had been very lonely since Jimmy went
away, so the shouting of the scouts and their merry laughter brought
back other days.
She had just completed frosting a number of doughnuts, and had them all
heaped upon a large plate, when the kitchen door was suddenly thrust
open, and Miss Arabella burst into the room. Though the morning was
very warm, a thick shawl enwrapped her shoulders, and she wore a heavy
winter dress. Her eyes were wide with fright, and she was trembling so
violently that she was forced to sink into the nearest chair.
"Why, Miss Arabella!" Mrs. Britt exclaimed, "are you sick? You must
lie down at once."
"No, no, I'm not sick," and the visitor flapped her hands in despair.
"But your husband, Mrs. Britt, your husband, oh, oh!"
"What's the matter with him?" Mrs. Britt enquired, while her face
turned suddenly pale. "Has anything happened to him? Tell me quick."
"Yes, I'm afraid so. It's awful. I didn't know he was that way. Has
he been troubled long? You should take him away at once. I always
knew he was queer, but I had no idea he was so bad."
"Will you please tell me what is the matter?" Mrs. Britt demanded. "I
don't understand you. Joshua was all right a few minutes ago."
"Was he?" and Miss Arabella looked her surprise. "But you should see
him now. He's out there in front of the house waving his arms up and
down just like this," and the visitor, forgetting her weakness, leaped
to her feet and imitated what she had seen the captain doing. "He was
looking up at the window," she continued, "and saying things I could
not understand. It sounded as if he was going over his letters, and
every once in awhile he would clasp his hands before him like this, and
cry 'brute.' Oh, it is terrible!"
Mrs. Britt gave a deep sigh of relief, while an amused twinkle shone in
her eyes.
"Sit down, Miss Arabella," she ordered. "There is nothing wrong with
Joshua. He is practising signalling, that's all. Whyn is helping him
from her window. He has to teach the scouts this afternoon, and is
brushing up a little. You see, every time he moves his arms he makes a
letter. The alphabet is divided into groups, and at the end of each
group he stops swinging his arms, and clasps his hands before him
before making the next group. That is what Joshua must have been doing
which frightened you so much."
"Oh, dear me!" and Miss Arabella began to fan herself with an old
newspaper she picked up from off the table. "I never got such a shock
in all my life. I don't know what people are coming to these days when
an old man like your husband will act in such a way. I came over on
purpose to see that girl you have here, and it has nearly cost me my
life."
"Have one of these doughnuts, dear," Mrs. Britt soothed. "I shall get
you some of my home-made wine, which will make you feel better." And
the good woman bustled off to the pantry, from which she shortly
emerged with a well-filled glass.
"That does make me feel better," Miss Arabella remarked, after she had
drunk the wine and eaten two doughnuts. "That walk has certainly given
me an appetite."
"And I guess you'll feel better still when you see Whyn," Mrs. Britt
replied, as she led her visitor into the front bedroom.
The invalid girl was sitting by the open window in the big chair the
captain had fitted up for her. Her cheeks were flushed with
excitement, and her eyes were sparkling with animation. She was
holding a small signalling chart in her hands, at the same time giving
instructions to the captain outside.
"Try that again," she was saying. "Don't hold your arms so stiff.
There, that's better."
Hearing the sound of footsteps, she turned suddenly and her eyes fell
upon Miss Arabella's lank form and thin face. For an instant only she
hesitated before reaching out her delicate white hand.
"Oh, you're Miss Arabella," she exclaimed. "I'm very glad to see you,
and it's so good of you to come. Sit down, please."
"For pity's sake, how do you know who I am?" was the astonished reply.
"A little bird told me," and Whyn gave a merry laugh.
"H'm. I guess it was a bird without any feathers, and a little red
head."
"Yes, that's who it was. You see, I know most of the people in this
place, though I have met only a few. Rod told me that you were sick,
and what you look like."
"He did, did he? And I suppose he told you that I had a long nose
which was always poking into other people's business."
"Why, no!" and Whyn's face grew suddenly sober. "He never told me
anything like that. He only said that you were thin, with a sad face,
and that you were very lonely, with no one to love you."
"So he said that, did he?" and a softer expression came into the
woman's grey eyes. "But I suppose he told you a whole lot more,
though?"
"Only about how he put the key down your neck," and again Whyn smiled.
"Wasn't it a funny way to do a good turn?"
"Not very funny for me, Miss," and the visitor tossed her head. "But
tell me, how old are you?"
"Just sixteen," was the reply.
"What's wrong with you, anyway? You don't look very sick."
"It's my back. I am not able to walk, and can sit up only for a little
while each day."
"My, it must be hard for you to be that way. I know something about it
myself," and Miss Arabella gave a deep sigh.
"I try to forget my troubles, though, by thinking of bright things,"
Whyn explained. "And now that I have so much to do with the scouts I
have scarcely any time left to think about myself. Every night my back
aches so much that I cannot sleep for several hours. But last night I
was thinking about Rod, and didn't mind the pain hardly at all."
"Why, what's wrong with Rod?" the visitor inquired. "I don't see why
you should lie awake thinking about him."
"No, perhaps you don't, and maybe it was foolish of me, but I couldn't
help it. You see, it had to do with his scout suit. Each boy must
earn the money to buy his own suit, and when the scouts were talking
about it, they all told how they were going to raise the money except
Rod. He didn't say anything, and I knew by the look on his face that
he hadn't the least idea where he was going to get the money for his
suit. I felt so sorry for him. When Rod is thinking hard he is very
quiet. He was just like that yesterday, and he didn't even say a word
to me when he left. Oh, I wish that I could think of some way to help
him."
"Who are the other scouts?" Miss Arabella asked.
"Well, there's Jimmy Perkins. He's corporal, and----"
"Old Ezry Perkins' son, eh? I guess I know his pa, a mean old
skinflint, if ever there was one. But he dotes on that boy of his, and
he'll get him the suit all right. Who else?"
"Then, there's Tommy Bunker, the boy with a face like the full moon."
"Yes, I know the Bunkers only too well. Stuck up people, they are, who
think they own the whole parish. You ought to see Mrs. Bunker come
into church. She holds her head so high, and steps so big and mighty,
that she thinks she's doing the Lord a great service by coming.
Tommy'll get his suit, never fear. Mrs. Bunker will see to that."
"Billy Potter comes next," Whyn hastened to explain, "and Joe Martin,
and Phil Dexter, and----"
"There, that will do," and Miss Arabella sniffed in a most significant
manner. "I know the whole tribe. Nothing but trash, every one of
them. Queer scouts, I call them. Yes, they'll all have suits, and my,
how they'll strut around."
"I'm afraid Rod will not get his for some time," and Whyn sighed.
"He's patrol leader, too, and I am sure he will feel very badly."
"No doubt he will. But, there, I must be off," and Miss Arabella rose
suddenly to her feet. "Good-bye. I'll be over to see you again soon,"
and with that, she whisked out of the room.