BETH MEETS A REBUFF
The campaign was now growing warm. Mr. Hopkins had come to realize that
he had "the fight of his life" on his hands, and that defeat meant his
political ruin. Close-fisted and miserly as he was, no one knew so well
as the Honorable Erastus how valuable this position of Representative
was to him in a financial way, and that by winning re-election he could
find means to reimburse himself for all he had expended in the fight.
So, to the surprise of the Democratic Committee and all his friends, Mr.
Hopkins announced that he would oppose Forbes's aggressive campaign with
an equal aggressiveness, and spend as many dollars in doing so as might
be necessary.
He did not laugh at his opponents any longer. To himself he admitted
their shrewdness and activity and acknowledged that an experienced head
was managing their affairs.
One of Mr. Hopkins's first tasks after calling his faithful henchmen
around him was to make a careful canvass of the voters of his district,
to see what was still to be accomplished.
This canvass was quite satisfactory, for final report showed only about
a hundred majority for Forbes. The district was naturally Republican by
six hundred majority, and Hopkins had previously been elected by a
plurality of eighty-three; so that all the electioneering of the girl
politicians, and the expenditure of vast sums of money in painting
fences and barns, buying newspapers and flaunting Forbes banners in the
breezes, had not cut into the Hopkins following to any serious extent.
But, to offset this cheering condition, the Democratic agents who made
the canvass reported that there was an air of uncertainty throughout the
district, and that many of those who declared for Hopkins were lukewarm
and faint-hearted, and might easily be induced to change their votes.
This was what must be prevented. The "weak-kneed" contingency must be
strengthened and fortified, and a couple of hundred votes in one way or
another secured from the opposition.
The Democratic Committee figured out a way to do this. Monroe County,
where both Forbes and Hopkins resided, was one of the Democratic
strongholds of the State. The portions of Washington and Jefferson
Counties included in the Eighth District were as strongly Republican,
and being more populous gave to the district its natural Republican
majority. On the same ticket that was to elect a Representative to the
State Legislature was the candidate for Sheriff of Monroe County. A man
named Cummings was the Republican and Seth Reynolds, the liveryman, the
Democratic nominee. Under ordinary conditions Reynolds was sure to be
elected, but the Committee proposed to sacrifice him in order to elect
Hopkins. The Democrats would bargain with the Republicans to vote for
the Republican Sheriff if the Republicans would vote for the Democratic
Representative. This "trading votes," which was often done, was
considered by the politicians quite legitimate. The only thing necessary
was to "fix" Seth Reynolds, and this Hopkins arranged personally. The
office of Sheriff would pay about two thousand a year, and this sum
Hopkins agreed to pay the liveryman and so relieve him of all the
annoyance of earning it.
Reynolds saw the political necessity of this sacrifice, and consented
readily to the arrangement. Mr. Cummings, who was to profit by the deal,
was called to a private consultation and agreed to slaughter Kenneth
Forbes to secure votes for himself. It was thought that this clever
arrangement would easily win the fight for Hopkins.
But the Honorable Erastus had no intention of "taking chances," or
"monkeying with fate," as he tersely expressed it. Every scheme known to
politicians must be worked, and none knew the intricate game better than
Hopkins. This was why he held several long conferences with his friend
Marshall, the manager at the mill. And this was why Kenneth and Beth
discovered him conversing with the young woman in the buggy. Mr. Hopkins
had picked her up from the path leading from the rear gate of the
Elmhurst grounds, and she had given him accurate information concerning
the movements of the girl campaigners. The description she gave of the
coming reception to the Woman's Political League was so humorous and
diverting that they were both laughing heartily over the thing when the
young people passed them, and thus Mr. Hopkins failed to notice who the
occupants of the other vehicle were.
He talked for an hour with the girl, gave her explicit instructions,
thrust some money into her hand, and then drove her back to the bend in
the path whence she quickly made her way up to the great house.
Louise was making great preparations to entertain the Woman's Political
League, an organization she had herself founded, the members of which
were wives of farmers in the district. These women were flattered by the
attention of the young lady and had promised to assist in electing Mr.
Forbes. Louise hoped for excellent results from this organization and
wished the entertainment to be so effective in winning their good-will
that they would work earnestly for the cause in which they were
enlisted.
Patsy and Beth supported their cousin loyally and assisted in the
preparations. The Fairview band was engaged to discourse as much harmony
as it could produce, and the resources of the great house were taxed to
entertain the guests. Tables were spread on the lawn and a dainty but
substantial repast was to be served.
The day of the entertainment was as sunny and mild as heart could
desire.
By ten o'clock the farm wagons began to drive up, loaded with women and
children, for all were invited except the grown men. This was the first
occasion within a generation when such an entertainment had been given
at Elmhurst, and the only one within the memory of man where the
neighbors and country people had been invited guests. So all were eager
to attend and enjoy the novel event.
The gardens and grounds were gaily decorated with Chinese and Japanese
lanterns, streamers and Forbes banners. There were great tanks of
lemonade, and tables covered with candies and fruits for the children,
and maids and other servants distributed the things and looked after the
comfort of the guests. The band played briskly, and before noon the
scene was one of great animation. A speakers' stand, profusely
decorated, had been erected on the lawn, and hundreds of folding chairs
provided for seats. The attendance was unexpectedly large, and the girls
were delighted, foreseeing great success for their fête.
"We ought to have more attendants, Beth," said Louise, approaching her
cousin. "Won't you run into the house and see if Martha can't spare one
or two more maids?"
Beth went at once, and found the housekeeper in her little room. Martha
was old and somewhat feeble in body, but her mind was still active and
her long years of experience in directing the household at Elmhurst made
her a very useful and important personage. She was very fond of the
young ladies, whom she had known when Aunt Jane was the mistress here,
and Beth was her especial favorite.
So she greeted the girl cordially, and said:
"Maids? My dear, I haven't another one to give you, and my legs are too
tottering to be of any use. I counted on Eliza Parsons, the new girl I
hired for the linen room and to do mending; but Eliza said she had a
headache this morning and couldn't stand the sun, So I let her off. But
she didn't seem very sick to me."
"Perhaps she is better and will help us until after the luncheon is
served," said Beth. "Where is she, Martha? I'll go and ask her."
"I'd better show you the way, miss. She's in her own room."
The housekeeper led the way and Beth followed. When she rapped upon the
door, a sweet, quiet voice said:
"Come in."
The girl entered, and gave an involuntary cry of surprise. Standing
before her was the young girl she had seen riding with Mr. Hopkins--the
girl she had declared to be the missing daughter of Mrs. Rogers.
For a moment Beth stood staring, while the new maid regarded her with
composure and a slight smile upon her beautiful face. She was dressed in
the regulation costume of the maids at Elmhurst, a plain black gown with
white apron and cap.
"I--I beg your pardon," said Beth, with a slight gasp; for the likeness
to Mrs. Rogers was something amazing. "Aren't you Lucy Rogers?"
The maid raised her eyebrows with a gesture of genuine surprise. Then
she gave a little laugh, and replied:
"No, Miss Beth. I'm Elizabeth Parsons."
"But it can't be," protested the girl. "How do you know my name, and why
haven't I seen you here before?"
"I'm not a very important person at Elmhurst," replied Eliza, in a
pleasant, even tone. "I obtained the situation only a few days ago. I
attend to the household mending, you know, and care for the linen. But
one can't be here without knowing the names of the young ladies, so I
recognize you as Miss Beth, one of Mr. Forbes's cousins."
"You speak like an educated person," said Beth, wonderingly. "Where is
your home?"
For the first time the maid seemed a little confused, and her gaze
wandered from the face of her visitor.
"Will you excuse my answering that question?" she asked.
"It is very simple and natural," persisted Beth. "Why cannot you answer
it?"
"Excuse me, please. I--I am not well today. I have a headache."
She sat down in a rocking chair, and clasping her hands in her lap,
rocked slowly back and forth.
"I'm sorry," said Beth. "I hoped you would be able to assist me on the
lawn. There are so many people that we can't give them proper
attention."
Eliza Parsons shook her head.
"I am not able," she declared. "I abhor crowds. They--they excite me, in
some way, and I--I can't bear them. You must excuse me."
Beth looked at the strange girl without taking the hint to retire.
Somehow, she could not rid herself of the impression that whether or not
she was mistaken in supposing Eliza to be the missing Lucy, she had
stumbled upon a sphinx whose riddle was well worth solving.
But Eliza bore the scrutiny with quiet unconcern. She even seemed mildly
amused at the attention she attracted. Beth was a beautiful girl--the
handsomest of the three cousins, by far; yet Eliza surpassed her in
natural charm, and seemed well aware of the fact. Her manner was neither
independent nor assertive, but rather one of well-bred composure and
calm reliance. Beth felt that she was intruding and knew that she ought
to go; yet some fascination held her to the spot. Her eyes wandered to
the maid's hands. However her features and form might repress any
evidence of nervousness, these hands told a different story. The thin
fingers clasped and unclasped in little spasmodic jerks and belied the
quiet smile upon the face above them.
"I wish," said Beth, slowly, "I knew you."
A sudden wave of scarlet swept over Eliza's face. She rose quickly to
her feet, with an impetuous gesture that made her visitor catch her
breath.
"I wish I knew myself," she cried, fiercely. "Why do you annoy me in
this manner? What am I to you? Will you leave me alone in my own room,
or must I go away to escape you?"
"I will go," said Beth, a little frightened at the passionate appeal.
Eliza closed the door behind her with a decided slam, and a key clicked
in the lock. The sound made Beth indignant, and she hurried back to
where her cousins were busy with the laughing, chattering throng of
visitors.