JUST FRIENDS
It was on the very day after the funeral that Miss Sophia had an
unexpected caller, in the person of Cynthia’s father, the proprietor of
the largest dry-goods and grocery store in Laurel. She privately wondered
what he had come for, but received him with a civility as chilling as the
atmosphere of her shrouded “best room,” and as unbending as the tall,
spare figure in its gloom of unrelieved black.
Mr. Parker was a man of business, and went straight to the point.
“I hope you’ll excuse my calling so soon, ma’am! I should be very sorry
to intrude, but the fact is, I am particularly interested in—ah!—in a
present member of your family.”
Here Miss Sophia visibly stiffened, and the gentleman cleared his throat,
and made a fresh beginning.
“If I may be allowed to refer to the prospects of your—ahem! of the late
Mrs. Waring’s charge, I understand that it is proposed to—that her return
to Dakota is—ah!—under consideration?”
“As to Stella,” reluctantly responded Miss Sophia, “I do not quite
see—begging your pardon, Mr. Parker—why my plans for the girl should be
of particular interest to my neighbors. However, I have no objection to
answering your question. Stella is sixteen—quite old enough to go to
work, and, thanks to my sister’s possibly mistaken kindness, has a far
better education than either her antecedents or her circumstances call
for. It is high time, in my opinion, that she was getting in touch with
her own people, and becoming accustomed to their mode of life, to which
she has so long been a stranger.
“Her own inheritance from an ancestry of savages, Mr. Parker, betrays
itself in such escapades as Stella indulged in on the night of my
sister’s death, when she ran away to the woods in a violent thunderstorm,
was found by your dog, I believe, and brought home after dark by Mr.
Silas Wolcott from his place on the Bay road. Such distressing outbreaks
render it desirable, certainly, from my point of view, that her return be
not delayed too long.”
“That’s about as I supposed, ma’am,” gravely assented Mr. Parker, “and it
is on that understanding that I have come here to-day to make a definite
proposition to Miss Stella, and to you, as her guardian. It is simply
this: that I offer her a home with me, as my daughter’s companion, for
the next two years, or until she graduates from Laurel academy. She will
be treated precisely like my own daughter, if she comes. I shall make
her an allowance for dress, and so forth, and of course pay all of her
expenses.”
Poor Miss Sophia was taken entirely by surprise, and had to moisten her
dry lips more than once before she could inquire:
“And what, may I ask, is your reason for this—this extraordinary offer?”
“Miss Stella, ma’am,” responded Mr. Parker, with unmoved politeness, “is,
as you are perhaps aware, my daughter’s most intimate friend. Cynthia is
an only child, and, I am sorry to say, rather a lonely one. She has her
little peculiarities, Miss Spellman, like the rest of us, and her mother
and I have every reason to be satisfied with your ward’s influence.”
(Here Miss Sophia indulged in an unmistakable sniff.)
“In addition to this, my daughter firmly believes that Miss Stella
saved her life from the Wolcott bull, not a great while ago, which of
course puts us all in her debt; and, in short, Cynthia says that she
will not graduate without her.” (Another sniff.) “And besides,” firmly
continued Mr. Parker, with perhaps a secret enjoyment of the situation,
“the fact is, ma’am, her friends all feel that Miss Stella is a girl
of—ahem!—unusual abilities, and ought by all means to complete her
education.”
“Of course, Mr. Parker, I shall require some time to think this matter
over.” Miss Sophia spoke rather feebly, after a long pause. “The
suggestion is an unexpected one, and—and—However, I shall mention it
to the girl, and—By the way, Mr. Parker, you may not be aware that
my sister left her by will all of her personal property, and a sum in
savings-bank amounting to something over three hundred dollars. Stella is
not exactly an object of charity.”
The storekeeper was quite aware of this fact, as was everybody else in
the village. The will had been drawn up by the local lawyer, who had
deemed it necessary to keep his counsel no longer than till the funeral
was over. However, Stella’s friends did not think the legacy of great
importance, as bearing on the question in hand. Three hundred dollars was
a nice little nest-egg for her, to be sure; but it would not cover her
board, clothing and school expenses for two years.
He simply bowed, therefore, and took up his hat as he replied, civilly:
“Certainly, certainly, ma’am; take all the time you wish to talk the
matter over with the young lady. When you and she have made up your
minds, may I ask that you will communicate with me?”
At Miss Sophia’s front door, the merchant encountered Doctor Brown.
Almost a personal encounter it was, for the big Doctor was in a hurry, as
usual, and had stopped in upon urgent business, on his way to a patient.
Miss Sophia was just on the point of escaping to her room, to consider
this unprecedented interference with her plans—rank impertinence, she was
inclined to call it—when he bluntly detained her.
“No, no; I can’t sit down. I sha’n’t keep you a minute. It’s just this.
Stella Waring must have her chance. She must graduate from the academy,
in the first place, and her little bit of money won’t do the trick. My
wife and I aren’t rich, as you know, but there’s room under our roof for
the child, especially if she’s willing to make herself useful—and I know
she is, bless her heart!
“She can come to-morrow; we need her to wait on mother, help my wife
about the house and be company for Doris, so she’ll give as much as she
gets. Stella’s proud, Miss Sophia, and wouldn’t consent to be a burden
to anybody. I want her to understand that she’ll be doing us a favor by
coming. Talk it over with her, and let me know. Good day!”
* * * * *
Well, there was no way out of it; the whole matter must be laid before
the girl herself. Distasteful as the task was, Miss Sophia must explain
to her both offers and give her her choice; yes, and the further
alternative of remaining where she was for two years longer. Upon mature
consideration, and with her eyes fully opened, at last, to Stella’s
position and value in the community, this stiff-necked elderly Puritan
was compelled to face the fact that the girl’s services were worth as
much to her as to any one else; and the further fact that it would not
“look well,” in the eyes of her lifelong neighbors and townsfolk, if her
dead sister’s foster-child should be obliged to find another home in
Laurel. She could scarcely be packed off to the reservation willy-nilly;
not with such influential friends on her side.
Besides, it would be _some_ satisfaction to get the better of that
scheming Mr. Parker. Let him take his own medicine, and see how he liked
it. And besides, when you really came down to it, what would she, Miss
Sophia, do without her light-handed and swift-footed little attendant?
Poor Lucy was gone, and Stella was the only one, now, who knew all their
ways. Must she be at the mercy of a Mrs. Maloney in her old age? So for
hours she sat and thought till her old head fairly spun, and the subject
was broached to a subdued and red-eyed Stella that very evening.
* * * * *
“Oh, Jibby darling! to think of your really and truly coming to live with
us! Oh, isn’t Daddy the very nicest man that ever lived? He never refused
me anything; not if I had set my heart on it, you know. And I told him
that if you didn’t graduate, then I wouldn’t, either; and the very day I
was eighteen I was going out to Dakota to join you on your own land, and
run that ranch we always talked about. He only said: ‘Tut, tut, daughter;
we’ll do better than that.’
“And even mother’s glad, because I do bother her sometimes when she has
a headache, and now she can play bridge all day, if she likes. You and
me’ll see to everything, won’t we, Jibby? You _are_ coming, aren’t you,
darling dear?”
Thus Cynthia in one breath, flinging herself upon her friend’s neck the
next morning, in the prim garden of the old Spellman homestead, among
the old-fashioned posies, day-lilies and bleeding-heart and wonderful
rose-hued peonies, while Scotty, with the demonstrative jealousy of his
kind, stood upon his gaunt hind legs and thrust his cold nose between the
loving pair.
Doris, prettier than ever in all the dignity of her ankle-long skirts and
“Psyche knot” of honey-colored hair, noted Stella’s hesitating silence
and cannily began, feeling her way:
“You know, Jibby, Grandma is getting old and feeble, and she does like
you better’n ’most any one. She won’t let even me do for her as she will
you, Stella Waring! I don’t see how you manage to bewitch everybody the
way you do.
“Uncle Si says, dummed if he wouldn’t like nothing better than for you
to come out there and be his little housekeeper. Think of that! He never
forgot that breakfast you got for him the day Cynthia was chased by the
bull; and he says that for nobody else in this endurin’ world would he
have hitched up the critters long after bed-time of a wet night. I don’t
know when he’s been out after eight o’clock ’cept that night he took you
home. Well, aren’t you ever going to speak? We _all_ want you, Stella;
now which is it going to be?”
Yellow Star faced her two friends with almost a tragic gesture of
out-flung arms, and the rare tears in her soft, black eyes.
“Darlings,” she cried, “you are all too sweet for anything, and I shall
never forget it as long as I live. To think that I have such friends!
But do you know, the most wonderful part of it all is, _Miss Sophia wants
me too_!
“She’s getting old, you see, and she isn’t used to doing for herself, and
she really does need me, girls. Don’t look like that, Cynthia; she’s my
dear, dear Mother Waring’s only sister—the only near kin she had in this
world—so she used to say. Girls, I know I should be perfectly happy with
either of you, but I can’t leave Miss Sophia—she’s _folks_. I know I can
take care of her, and here is where I _belong_.”
And, of course, that settled it.