PROBLEMS AND HEARTS
The storm had passed almost as abruptly as it had come. The rain ceased
as if a trap-door in the heavens had been suddenly closed. The wind had
gone when the rain came, so that the moment the downfall was over the
whole affair was ended. It had not occupied the space of more than four
minutes, but it had managed to make as complete a wreck of the sleeping
arrangements in the pine grove as if it had been of an hour's duration.
"The stars are shining!" announced Bob, putting his head under the edge
of the canvas the moment the rain had stopped. "The show is over."
"So is the tent--and sleep," added Alec. Crawling along under the
wreckage, he had encountered Bob's heel. "This is a nice mess! What on
earth are we to do now?"
"Get everybody out under the sky," commanded Jarvis, working his way out.
He ran round to the back of the tent and found Sally emerging. He gave
her a hand.
"Why, you're wet!" he said, as his hand touched the sleeve of the blue
kimono she had been wearing when she sat in the open doorway.
She felt of his sleeve in turn. "I'm not a circumstance to you," she
answered. "You must be soaked to the skin, you and Bob."
"That's no matter, this warm night. Mother, Jo, where are you? Max, lend
a hand here, and let's lift this canvas so they can get out."
"But it's not a warm night now," declared Mrs. Burnside, when she had
reached the open air, and had found out for herself how wet at least
three of the party were. "We must manage to dry you all, somehow."
"I hope you people are satisfied," Max reiterated. It was the fourth time
he had said it.
"Of course we're satisfied!" cried Sally, with spirit. "Who wants a
camping party without any adventures? We can't have bears here in our
pine grove, so we have thunderstorms."
"Thunderstorms! That was a cyclone, if it was anything!" growled Max.
"If it was, we're safe from ever having another!" cried Bob. "They never
hit the same place twice, I'm told. Hello, there comes a lantern through
the hedge. Thought Mr. Ferry'd be looking us up."
"Ship ahoy!" called a hailing voice. "All hands on deck? Shall I man a
lifeboat? Well, well," in astonishment, as he came nearer, "where are
you, anyhow? Where's the tent?"
"Don't look so high up!" Jarvis called back. "Lower your glass to the
horizon line. We're out in the open sea!"
Ferry surveyed the group by the light of his lantern. "Anybody get wet?"
he asked. "Yes, I should say you did. See here, you wet ones, don't delay
a minute, for the storm has made the air twenty degrees cooler. Run over
to our house. Mother's expecting you all."
"We can't all get inside your house!" chuckled Bob.
"Let's go into our own," urged Sally. "Max has the key, and we can carry
in the cots--they're not wet--and have a fire in the big fireplace--"
Bob pinched her arm. "Say, Sis, it's a chance for you to get into
the house."
"Of course it is," Sally whispered back, her eyes dancing in the light
from the lantern.
"I think that is the best plan, don't you, Max?" questioned Jarvis.
Max nodded reluctantly. No matter how hospitably the tiny cottage might
be thrown open for their reception, it would certainly be overtaxing its
capacity to attempt to make nine extra people comfortable there for the
remainder of the night--it was barely one o'clock.
"We'll gladly stretch the walls to take you all in," said Donald Ferry,
"but perhaps the big house plan is the better. Suppose you ladies go over
and let mother satisfy her longing to be of use by making Miss Sally dry,
while we fellows get the cots into the house, and bring over some wood
from our pile for the fireplace. It will need open windows and a rousing
fire in there to freshen the musty air."
"Jarvis, you must come, too--you and Bob. You're both very wet," urged
Mrs. Burnside.
"Yes, go over, Burnside, and ask mother for some dry clothes of mine,"
said Ferry. "Bob--"
"I've got some dry clothes packed away somewhere in the tent, if I can
only find where they've gone to," answered Bob.
"I'll work myself dry," and Jarvis suited the action to the word by
beginning to unfasten the guy ropes.
"Jarvis!" It was his mother's voice. At the note in it, he stood up
again, laughing. "All right, mother," he agreed, and walked away with her
toward the cottage.
"These people who have been so anxious to camp," said Max to Ferry, "I
hope they're satisfied now."
"Oh, such experiences are a part of the fun of camping," asserted Ferry.
"Mr. Rudd certainly looks cheerful," and he held up his lantern so that
its rays illumined Uncle Timothy's face.
The elder man smiled. "It seems to me we are fortunate to have had
no worse happen," said he. "That was the most violent wind I have
ever known."
"It shook our little house to its foundations," replied Ferry. "I think
it took down a chimney, but I didn't stop to find out. Mother was certain
your camp must be blown over into the next township, and could hardly
wait for me to get out and see. Well, shall we go to work? Tent down
first--and that will take all hands, for wet canvas is heavy."
They fell to, Jarvis soon returning to join them. It took considerable
time to remove the tent from its position, for much care was necessary to
prevent its dampening the tent furniture beneath. But after that it was
easy to move the cots and bedding to the house, the hallway of which was
now lighted by two lamps brought over from the cottage.
"We'll make up the beds!" cried Sally, appearing with Josephine in
the big hall, her face radiant. "I can't lose any more time tamely
discussing this event over there, when I can be here in the midst
of things."
"Good for you! Now, Bob, suppose you and I leave the others to bring over
the rest of the stuff, while we haul some wood for the fireplace," and
Ferry beckoned Bob away to the next job. He was smiling back at Sally as
he went, for her joy, though he did not quite understand its cause, was
contagious.
So it was not long before a cheerful blaze was throwing grotesque lights
and shadows down the hall, showing up the odd array of cots and beds
which had been brought, without regard to final disposition, into the
hall. Sally selected the long room on the left of the hall, its doorway
directly opposite the fireplace, for the feminine portion of the family,
announcing that the others could sleep in the hall itself. Into this room
she directed Uncle Timothy and Alec to move four of the cots, and set
Mary Ann at work making up the beds in the hall.
"Isn't this more fun than the jolliest picnic you ever went to?" exulted
Sally, as she and Josephine spread sheets and blankets upon the beds.
"It's great! I'm so glad it happened to-night, when we were here.
Sally, do you suppose they can dry the tent and get it up again by
to-morrow night?"
"I hope not! If it would only rain again to-morrow! I'd give worlds to
be forced to stay here in the house, much as I've enjoyed sleeping in
the tent. If I could only make Max take a little liking to the
house--and I could if I just had our things out here from town. But of
course he'll never let me. Hasn't he been funny to-night, with his
solemn 'hoping we're satisfied'? Oh, if the poor dear only had just a
tiny sense of humour!"
"I'm sure he has, if we could wake it up. This scene ought to do it, if
anything would," agreed Josephine. "Look at Mr. Rudd, with his hair all
rumpled and his sleeping-cap still on. See Mary Ann out there; doesn't
she look dazed and serious? Here I am, with my hair in two tails down my
back--and it's the first time I've thought of it. As for you, in that red
sweater jacket, with your curly mop of hair, you look more like a lively
small boy than ever before."
"I'd like to be one. Do you suppose we can ever settle down to slumber
again to-night? I'd like to have larks the rest of the time, till
morning. We will have them to-morrow night, Joey Burnside, if we can
manage to stay in this house."
It certainly was hard to get to sleep under these new conditions. Even
after everybody was quiet, there were still sources of amusement for
Sally. The sound of a low growl in the hall was enough to set her off,
and she leaned over to Josephine's cot to whisper: "That's Max,
muttering, 'I hope you're satisfied!'"--at which Josephine began to
laugh, and the two shook together for some time thereafter.
The first thing in the morning of which Josephine was conscious was Sally
again, breathing joyously in her ear, "Jo, Jo--it's raining!"
So it was. The long dry spell had been broken by the severe storm of the
night, and a heavy rain was now falling. As she dressed, Sally gazed out
upon it with satisfaction.
"How on earth are we to have any breakfast?" came booming from the hall,
as Max, reluctantly getting to his feet, took in the situation.
"Mr. Ferry and I brought all the kitchen tent stuff into the back of this
house," said Bob. "He said it was best in time of peace to prepare for
war, and we might get another storm before morning. So we're all fixed."
"Very nice for those who can stay here, but not so fine for the ones who
have to catch the trolley." Max applied himself discontentedly to the
business of dressing.
"Oh, what's that! Who minds a little walk in the rain? I wouldn't be
such a granny. You've done nothing but fuss ever since the tent came
down. Nobody else has howled a minute. You must enjoy being everlastingly
in a grouch."
It was not often that Bob's good humour forsook him to the point of
addressing his elder brother in such disrespectful terms, and Max glared
at him wrathfully.
"Cut that! I'm a few years older than you are, and you've no business to
be impudent. When you work the way I do, you'll earn the right to have
your rest undisturbed."
"Yes, grandpa," mocked Bob. Alec, sitting on the edge of his cot,
laughed. This was too much for Max. He seized his younger brother by the
collar and attempted to shake him. But Bob was more athletic than Max had
realized. The sturdy young figure resisted doughtily, and Max, who was by
no means muscular, found his hands full. Uncle Timothy and Alec looked on
in amusement as the battle raged, and when Bob finally succeeded in
depositing Max on the latter's own cot, back downward, the victor's knee
on the conquered one's chest, they applauded heartily.
"Take it good-naturedly, nephew," advised Mr. Rudd, catching sight of
Max's angry countenance. "It was a fair encounter, and the lad is
stronger than you."
"If there was any way of pounding a laugh into Maxwell Lane, I'd tackle
him myself," declared Alec.
"Boys, what are you doing?" called Sally. "Are you dressed? May we come
through? We want to help Mary Ann about breakfast."
Max rose to his feet, his face red and his collar awry. As the girls
appeared he strode away up the stairs affecting not to see them.
"Max, are you going up to find out if any burglars got in overnight?"
called Sally after him, "If you are, please see if my jewel case is
undisturbed."
To Sally's intense gratification, it rained all day. To be sure, she had
invited her friends to a tent party, not to stay in an empty house, but
it seemed to be so much more fun for everybody to roam about the house,
exploring it from attic to cellar, suggesting what could be done to make
it all inviting and attractive, that the hours by no means dragged. Mrs.
Burnside, especially, seemed to take deep interest in every detail of the
rooms, declaring them to be susceptible to treatment which should easily
make them homelike and beautiful.
The rugs from the tent had been laid in the hall, by the fireplace,
where a small fire burned, its cheer and warmth grateful to those who
gathered round it, for the change in the weather had become more
pronounced as the day advanced, and a north-east wind was doing its part
in making indoors desirable. Such of the camp furniture as fitted the
uses of a sitting-room had also been placed in the hall, and the result
was that at least one spot in the big house presented a highly inviting
appearance.
"I wish we had some books and magazines now," said Josephine, disposing
herself comfortably in a steamer chair, with her back toward the fire.
"I've read all those we had in the tent."
"I'll find you some," and Sally disappeared--by way of the kitchen, where
Mary Ann was sure to need coaching from time to time. Thence she ran up a
back stairway to the floor above, and on to the small flight of steps
which led to the door opening on the stairway between the walls, above
which was the old library. She meant to make a selection of volumes for
Josephine's delectation, more as a joke than as an offer of reading
matter, for she did not suppose there was much in the collection which
might serve to entertain her friend. To her surprise, she found it
unnecessary to use her key, and went on up the stairs, remembering that
she had not seen Jarvis for the last hour. If he should be up here
reading, it was well that she had come, for the fine print of the old
books was the worst thing possible for his eyes.
But Jarvis was not reading. Instead, she found him standing by one of the
windows, staring out through the curious old wrought-iron latticework,
which, after the fashion in many old houses, made the upper windows
impregnable. His hands were in his pockets, his eyes were fixed on the
outlook of field and meadow stretching away up the slope of the hillside
to the woods beyond. It was a fine prospect, even through the falling
rain, and Jarvis appeared to be fascinated by it, so that he did not hear
the light fall of Sally's footsteps on the stairs.
She came softly up and stood beside him. "Isn't that lovely off there?"
she asked, and Jarvis started. Then he laughed, bringing his gaze back to
rest with a look of pleasure upon the girl at his side.
"It certainly is. From this height one gets a better idea of the way the
farm lies than from below."
"Do you wonder I want to live here?"
"Not a bit. The idea of it grows more attractive to me every time I come
here. If it were any place but yours, I should be strongly tempted to
buy it myself--mother and I, of course, I mean. She would jump at the
idea, I fancy, of this for a summer home."
"Oh, Jarvis!" Sally looked so dismayed that he reassured her in haste:
"Of course I'd never mention such a thing unless you yourself wanted to
sell. But you can see I'm in sympathy with your longing to live here. I
only wish I could see you carry out your plan. If there were anything I
could do to bring it about, I certainly would do it. Look here." He
paused to consider an idea which had just occurred to him. "Do you
suppose if I were seriously to talk of buying the place it might make Max
want to keep it? By all the laws of human nature, the thing ought to work
that way."
"I don't know. You never know how Max is going to take things. If you
offered a good price he might jump at it."
"I wouldn't offer a good price--that is, not the price I would give if I
were very anxious to get it."
Sally thought it over. "I don't know," she said again. "You told me you
were thinking of offering to rent a few acres of us and try some market
gardening."
"I have thought of that. If I could only get 'the leader of the
opposition' interested to go in with me, your case would be won."
"You never can. He'll have to see somebody making a success of it before
he will think of it for a minute. There's nothing anybody can do before
spring, I suppose."
"There's considerable to be done in winter, I understand. And the spring
work begins so early it's practically winter then."
"You can't think how I want to stay here this winter!" sighed Sally.
"You really mean it? Snow-drifts and isolation, empty rooms and cold
winds, and all?"
"The Ferrys don't think it isolated. When they came, they expected to go
back to rooms in town for the winter, but they've fallen so in love with
their cottage they're going to stay. This isn't the country; it's only
the suburbs, eight minutes' walk from the electrics."
"True enough. It depends upon one's point of view, doesn't it? There's a
lot of fun made of the commuters, but they're not by any means to be
placed all in the same class. To people who genuinely love the country
it's a delight to get out here, no matter how many minutes it takes to
make the run. And it really takes only about twenty-five minutes to get
into the heart of the city. So you honestly want to stay here, do you,
Sally Lunn? From this hour I'm committed to the task of trying to bring
that thing about."
"Jarvis! That's lovely of you! You did bring about my getting out here in
the tent. Yes, I've heard the whole story from Jo--I know what a
strategist you were. You're such a good friend, to take so much trouble."
"Am I? There's nobody I'd rather take trouble for. You know that,
don't you?"
If there were more than friendship in his eyes and voice, Sally did not
perceive it. She was so accustomed to kindness and consideration from
this young man, who had grown up only a few years ahead of her, and who
had been her champion so long that she had never thought of him in any
other light, that no such declaration of his friendly feeling for her was
likely to impress her as at all out of the ordinary. The eyes behind the
blue goggles were hidden from her, the voice to her ear had merely its
usual warm ring of comradeship, and she did not note the fact that upon
the smooth, dark cheek a touch of unwonted colour spoke of feeling deeper
than that hinted at in the simple words.
"I know you're my stand-by, and you know I appreciate it. If you can
possibly bring such a thing about, I'll bless you forever. Now help me
find some books that will entertain Jo and your mother, for I must go
down to them."
He pointed out a number of quaint volumes whose contents he thought might
prove interesting, and she selected several, with which she departed,
taking a gay farewell of him and adjuring him not to use his eyes.
"Thank you, I'll use my brains instead," he answered.
"It will take all you've got!" she called back.
"I wonder if hearts are any help in solving problems?" Jarvis thought,
half-smiling to himself when she had gone. "Hers certainly isn't
concerned with anybody at present. But I wonder if I'm a wise fellow to
be plotting to help her spend the winter next door to the finest chap I
know. I wonder! But I'm certainly committed to the endeavour."
Whatever was the result of his use of the brains with which he had been
endowed, he lost no time in making his first effort. That evening, as the
company finished their dinner and strolled back into the hall, Jarvis
challenged Max to a walk up the cartpath toward the timber tract.
"Too wet," objected Max. "The rain stopped only an hour ago;
everything's soaking."
"I know it, but we've both been shut up all day in-doors, and need the
exercise. Besides, while we were at dinner I saw Ferry making for the
woods with his axe over his shoulder. We'll find him there and have a
jolly visit. He's great company when he's at work--which is saying a good
deal, for better company at any time I don't know of."
Max reluctantly submitted, turned up his trousers widely, shouldered an
umbrella, and the two set out. Sally looked after them, her hopes
following them, for she had received a meaning look from Jarvis which
told her that his schemes were already on foot. She had seen him in
conference with his mother that afternoon, and was sure the two were
agreed upon whatever suggestion of purchase Jarvis might be about to
make. Yet Sally held her breath. What if--what if--Max should, after all,
jump at the offer?