Kitabı oku: «Nan of the Gypsies», sayfa 9
CHAPTER XXIX.
FAITHFUL FRIENDS
A week had passed and it was nearing the end of June when Miss Dahlia and Nan arrived at the little station of San Seritos. They found Mr. Sperry, the gardener, waiting to take them home in the Barrington car, which had the family coat of arms emblazoned on the door.
Nan had written a long letter to this faithful servant and his kindly wife, telling of Miss Ursula’s death and also informing them that Miss Dahlia had but little money left, and, would be obliged to dispense with the services of so expert a gardener as Mr. Sperry. Nan had then added that since Miss Dahlia was very frail, she thought best not to tell her of the changed financial conditions, but if Mr. Sperry would accept a position elsewhere, Miss Dahlia would suppose that to be the reason he was leaving her service.
When Mr. Sperry read this letter to his wife, he removed his spectacles and wiped them as he said, “Nell, Miss Dahlia is one of God’s good women if there ever was one. Mind you the time little Bobsy had diphtheria and you couldn’t get a nurse? You’d have died yourself with the care of it all if it hadn’t been for that blessed woman coming right down here and staying quarantined in this lodge house where there weren’t any comforts such as she had been used to, and now, that she’s in trouble, it isn’t likely we’re going to desert her. No, sir, not us! The Baxters have been at me this month past to work on their place half time, and I’ll do it. Then we can raise our own vegetables and plenty for Miss Dahlia besides, in the kitchen garden here and she’ll never know but what Miss Nan is paying us a salary regular, just as we always had.”
“You are right, Samuel,” Mrs. Sperry said wiping her eyes with the corner of her blue apron. “We’re not the sort to be forgetting past kindness. I’ll go up to the big house this minute with Bertha and we’ll air it out and have Miss Dahlia’s room cheerful and waiting for her.”
And so when Mr. Sperry saw Nan assisting Miss Barrington to the platform, he hurried forward, and, snatching off his cap, he took the hand the little lady held out to him. It was hard for him to steady his voice as he said, “Miss Dahlia, it’s good to see your kind face again. It’s been lonesome having the big house closed for so long and it’s glad I am to have it opened.”
Tears rolled down the wrinkled cheeks of the little old lady. This home-coming was hard, for, during the last two years Miss Ursula had been much changed, more of a loving sister and a comrade.
When they reached the house, Mrs. Sperry was on the veranda and Bertha, now a tall girl of eleven, was standing shyly at her mother’s side.
The doors were wide open, and Nan, glancing in, saw that there were bowls of ferns and flowers in the hall and library. As she greeted Mrs. Sperry, she said softly, “It was very kind of you to do all this.”
Then the girl assisted Miss Dahlia up the wide front stairs. The gardener’s wife called after them “when you’ve laid off your wraps come down to the dining room. It’s nearly noon and I thought you might be hungry after traveling so far.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sperry, we will,” Nan replied, and tears sprang to her eyes as she thought how loyal these kind people were and with no hope of remuneration.
Later, while they were eating the appetizing luncheon which the gardener’s wife was serving, Miss Dahlia asked, “Mrs. Sperry, will you see about hiring maids and a cook for us as soon as possible?”
The woman glanced at Nan questioningly and that girl hurried to say:
“Oh, Aunt Dahlia dear, please don’t let’s have any just yet. I do want to learn to keep house and the best way to learn, you know, is really to do it. Don’t you think so, Mrs. Sperry?”
“Indeed I do, Miss Nan,” that little woman replied with enthusiasm, “and I’ll be right handy by, whenever you need help extra, for cleaning days and the like.”
Miss Dahlia smiled. “Well dearie,” she said, “you may try for a week or so, but at the end of that time, I’m pretty sure that you will be glad to hire a cook and at least one maid.”
The next morning, when Miss Dahlia awakened, it was to see a smiling lassie in a pretty ruffled white apron approaching her bedside with a tray on which was a cup of steaming coffee and a covered plate of delicately browned toast.
“Top o’ the morning to you, Aunt Dahlia,” the girl laughingly called as she brought a wash cloth and towel and then a dainty lavender dressing jacket and cap. A few minutes later when the pleased little old lady was sitting up among comfortably placed pillows, Nan with arms akimbo, inquired, “Is there anything more ye’ll be afther wantin’ this mornin’, Miss Barrington?”
“Oh, Nan darling,” the little woman replied brightly, “I truly did think that I wouldn’t be able to get on without Norah, but I believe that after all my new maid is going to prove a much handier young person. Have you breakfasted, my dear?”
“That I have, Aunt Dahlia, and my head is as full of delightful plans as a Christmas pudding is of plums, but first I wish to ask if I may have your permission to play the game just as I wish.”
“Indeed you have it without the asking. Get all the amusement that you can get of the experiment, but, Nan dearie, don’t you think that you would better reconsider and have at least one house maid?”
The girl shook her head and her dark eyes danced merrily as she again returned to Norah’s brogue. “And is it discharging me, ye are, on the very fust day of me service wid ye? Arrah, and oi’ll not be goin’ till ye’ve given me a fair two weeks’ triol.”
Miss Dahlia smiled happily. What a comfort this gypsy girl was to her. Then suddenly the little woman realized that she had not thought of Nan as a gypsy for a long time. It did not seem possible that this loving and lovable girl could be the same little wild waif who had climbed out of an upper window nearly four years ago because she did not want to be civilized.
When the tray was ready to be carried away, the audacious maid stooped and kissed the smiling face of the little old lady as she inquired, “Will ye dress now, or will ye be staying’ in bed for the mornin’, Miss Dahlia?”
“I’d like to remain in bed, dearie, if you are sure that you don’t need me to help you around the house. It was a long journey across the continent and now that we are really home it seems so nice to just rest and look out of the window at the garden and the sea.”
“Good! I’m glad!” Nan exclaimed as she drew the downy quilt over the frail shoulders. “Perhaps you’ll return to dreamland awhile. Now, don’t forget that you have granted me permission to carry out my plans in my own sweet way.”
When Nan was gone, the little old lady, resting luxuriously, wondered what her dear child might be planning, and then, truly weary, she again fell into a refreshing slumber.
Meanwhile Nan had donned her riding habit and, having visited the barn, she found her Binnie in fine trim. The small horse whinnied joyfully when he beheld his mistress, and Nan, putting her arms about him, caressed him lovingly. Two years before she had written Mrs. Sperry, telling her to permit the children to ride Binnie, and so the small horse had had many a merry canter and had not been lonely.
Saddling and mounting her mottled pony, Nan rode down the circling drive to the lodge house. She was about to carry out a plan, which was merely another way to economize and not let Miss Dahlia recognize it as such.
CHAPTER XXX.
NAN AS HOUSEKEEPER
“Good morning, Mrs. Sperry,” Nan called as she drew rein at the door of the lodge. “Could Bertha go up to the house and stay until I have cantered into town and back? Miss Dahlia is still in bed and I have a few purchases to make.”
Then Nan told her new plan and the gardener’s wife replied, “Bertha and Bobsy are in school. They take their lunch and stay all day and my husband works over at Baxters’ now till mid-afternoon, so I’ll take my basket of darning and go right up to be near Miss Dahlia if she should call.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sperry, I won’t be gone long and you’ll find my room just flooded with sunshine.”
An hour later Nan returned and soon thereafter a delivery wagon left a bundle at the kitchen door. Mrs. Sperry declared that she could stay all the morning just as well as not.
Miss Dahlia did not awaken. Now and then Mrs. Sperry heard the tapping of a hammer from the ground floor where the kitchen and maid’s dining room were and she wondered what Miss Dahlia would think of the new plan.
At about noon, Nan tiptoed upstairs and the gardener’s wife looked up with a welcoming smile. “I’m on the last hole in the last stocking,” she said softly. “I’m so glad to have them all done.” Then she added, “Is the new plan finished?”
The girl nodded. “I do hope Aunt Dahlia will like it,” she said.
“Nan, dearie,” a sweet voice called from the next room, and Mrs. Sperry taking her basket of darned stockings, nodded goodbye and tiptoed away while the girl went to answer the call.
“I’ve had such a restful sleep, dear,” the little old lady said, “and now I’ll dress and help you prepare our lunch. Really, Nan, I shall enjoy being allowed to go into a kitchen again. You know when I was a girl it was considered both proper and fashionable for a young lady to learn how to cook that she might direct her servants intelligently, if for no other reason, and many times I’ve wished I might slip down, when the cook was away, and see if I could still make some of the things as my dear mother taught me, but Sister Ursula did not approve. She said one of the maids might see me and think that I was queer.”
Nan laughed. “What fun we will have, Aunt Dahlia,” she declared as she assisted the little old lady to dress, “for, if you will, I would like to have you teach me to cook as your mother taught you.”
Then, when they were ready to go down stairs, Miss Dahlia said with almost girlish eagerness, “This afternoon we’ll go up in the attic. There’s a box somewhere up there which is filled with books, and in one of them my mother kept her tried recipes.”
Nan led the way past the cold, formal dining room, with its polished table and high-backed carved chairs. The little old lay shuddered as she glanced in. “It will be hard to get used to having Sister Ursula’s place always vacant,” she said.
“I knew it would, dear Aunt Dahlia,” the girl replied, as she put an arm about the little lady, “and that’s why I have planned to have our dining room somewhere else.”
They had reached the ground floor and the girl opened a door. Miss Dahlia glanced in and then she exclaimed with real pleasure, “Nan, how charmingly you have arranged this little room!”
It had formerly been the maids’ dining room. It was on a level with the ground. The wide windows opened upon the garden, a lilac bush, close to the house was fragrant with bloom, and a mocking bird, somewhere near, was singing joyously. But it was the inside which had been transformed as though by magic. Nan had scrubbed the creamy walls and woodwork and had hung blue and white draperies at the sunny windows, while at one side stood a high long basket-box of drooping ferns. The table was daintily set with blue bird dishes which Nan had used in boarding school when she had a spread for her friends. There were only two chairs, and, since Miss Ursula had never dined in this room, the loneliness of one gone could not be so keenly felt.
“Be seated, my lady,” the merry girl said as she drew out the chair that faced the garden. “You are now to partake of the very first meal that your new cook has ever prepared.” Miss Dahlia was delighted with the dainty luncheon. Nan chatted joyously, although whenever she was alone, she pondered deeply on how to solve the serious problem that was confronting them.
CHAPTER XXXI.
NAN’S PROBLEM
That morning when Nan had been in the village of San Seritos, she deposited in the bank the money which Miss Ursula had left in her keeping. The interest from the few thousand dollars would be sufficient, the girl thought, to provide comforts and even some luxuries for Miss Dahlia, but the necessities Nan wished to earn, knowing that if they used the principal, it would soon be necessary to tell Miss Dahlia of the lost fortune, and the home which the little old lady so dearly loved, would have to be sold.
Before leaving Pine Crest Nan had talked the matter over with Mrs. Dorsey and that kindly woman had written a letter telling whoever might be interested that in her opinion Nan Barrington was competent to teach the younger children all of the required studies, as well as languages and the harp.
The girl was confident that she could obtain a position as governess but that would necessitate hiring a maid or leaving Miss Dahlia alone, and neither of these things did she wish to do.
A week had passed when one morning Nan sitting on the sunny veranda reading the paper chanced to see in the want column something which she thought that she would like to investigate.
Miss Dahlia was still asleep and Mrs. Sperry gladly took her sewing up to the big house while Nan rode away on Binnie.
She had not far to go, for a quarter of a mile down the coast highway was a group of picturesque bungalows about a small hotel called Miracielo. Here each summer wealthy folk from the inland country came and took up their abode. This year it chanced that there were many young children among the tourists, and Mrs. Welton, manager of the exclusive hotel, had advertised for someone who would both instruct and entertain the little guests.
Nan was admitted to Mrs. Welton’s reception room and almost immediately a pleasant woman of refinement appeared and graciously welcomed the visitor. Nan explained her mission and showed the letter from Mrs. Dorsey.
“This is indeed interesting,” Mrs. Welton exclaimed. “My niece, Daisy Wells, attends that school and in her letters she has often mentioned Nan Barrington.” Then the kindly woman hesitated as though not quite certain that she ought to voice the thought that had come to her. Finally she said: “You will pardon me, I know, for mentioning a matter so personal, but I have always understood that your aunt possessed great wealth. Will she be willing that you entertain these little ones?”
Nan, after a moment’s thought, decided to tell Mrs. Welton the whole truth and that good woman was much impressed in favor of the girl who was trying in every way to keep the frail Miss Dahlia Barrington from a knowledge of the loss.
“It would not be possible for me to come each day to Miracielo,” Nan said, “but we have such a delightful rustic house in our garden; do you suppose, Mrs. Welton, that the children might come there each afternoon if I can persuade Aunt Dahlia to think favorably of my plan?”
“I do indeed,” the pleased woman smilingly agreed. “That is the time when many of my guests desire to rest, and they would be glad to have the children away. If their mothers consent, I can send the little ones to you in our car every day.”
Nan arose, her dark eyes glowing. “I thank you Mrs. Welton,” she said, “and tomorrow I will let you know if I have won my aunt’s consent to the plan.”
That afternoon the gypsy girl broached the subject of the little class almost timidly, and her aunt said lovingly, “But, Nan, darling, don’t you realize that all I have is also yours? You do not need to earn money.”
“Dear Aunt Dahlia,” the girl replied with sudden tears in her eyes, “I well know that whatever you have, you wish to share with me, but truly I would just love to try teaching for a short time.”
“My Nan seems to wish to make many experiments,” the little old lady said merrily. “Is not housekeeping enough?” Then, noting an expression of disappointment in the face of the girl, she added, “Bring your flock of children to our garden, if you wish dearie, I, too, will enjoy having them here.”
And so, the very next afternoon a dozen boys and girls, the oldest not seven, appeared, and though, for a time, some of them seemed shy, Nan soon won their confidence and had them merrily romping on a velvety stretch of lawn which she had chosen for a playground. Then when they were weary, they went into the vine-covered rustic house, and, sitting about the long table, they played quiet games that were both instructive and amusing.
After receiving her first week’s check, Nan visited the town and purchased books and materials that would assist her in teaching and entertaining her little “guests.”
Happy times Miss Dahlia and Nan had in the long evenings as they sat in the cheerfully lighted library reading these books, and then they would try to weave a pattern from gaily colored wools or bright strips of paper according to the instructions. The next day that particular pattern would be the one that Nan would show the children how to make.
One afternoon Miss Dahlia wandered out to the rustic house during this rest period, and, sitting at one end of the table she assisted a darling five-year-old to make a paper mat of glowing colors.
“See, Miss Nan,” the little fairy called joyously when the task was done, “see my pitty mat! May I take it home to show muvver?”
“Yes indeed, dearies, you may all take home whatever you make,” their young teacher told them.
“I wish we could make doggies or elphunts,” one small boy said. And that night Miss Dahlia and Nan hunted through the books for instructions on “elphunt” making, but failed to find them. Then Nan, not wishing to disappoint the little lad, brought forth scissors and cardboard and after many amusing failures, at last cut out a figure which Miss Dahlia laughingly assured the artist could be recognized as an “elphunt” at a single glance. They then cut out a dozen that the children might each have a pattern.
The little boy was delighted because his suggestion had been followed. Nan showed them how to make their card-board animals stand, and soon they had a long procession of rather queerly shaped “elphunts” and dogs all the way down the length of the table. The pleased children clapped their hands gleefully, and one little girl looked up with laughing eyes as she said: “Miss Nan, it’s as nice as a party every day, isn’t it?”
Sometimes the older girl, watching these children of the rich as they romped about on the velvety lawn, recalled another picture of the long ago. A group of dark-haired, dark-skinned, fox-like little creatures scrambling and rolling over each other as puppies do, but, when Nan had appeared, they had left their play and raced to meet her with outstretched arms.
How she would like to see them all again. Nan’s life was happy but uneventful. The beautiful sunny, summery days passed and Nan’s little class never wearied of the “Party-school.”
Then all at once unexpected and surprising, events followed close, one after another.
CHAPTER XXXII.
SURPRISING THINGS HAPPEN
It was Autumn once more. The children with their parents had returned to inland homes and the garden no longer echoed with their shouts and laughter.
Mrs. Welton had told Nan that the winter tourists from the snowy East would arrive in January and that she would re-engage her at that time if she cared to continue her little class, which the eager girl gladly consented to do. The remuneration had been excellent, and, during the intervening months, Nan planned keeping happily busy with sewing and home-making.
The garden was again glowing with yellow chrysanthemums as it had been on that long ago day when the gypsy girl and the little lad Tirol had first found the beach gate and the home which Nan had little dreamed was to be her own.
During the summer there had been many letters from Phyllis who was traveling abroad and from Robert Widdemere. Upon leaving the military academy, the lad’s first desire had been to cross the continent at once, but, when he found many tasks waiting in his father’s office, he believed that he ought not to start on a pleasure trip until these had been in some measure accomplished and it was November before he decided that he could start on the long planned journey. When he told his mother of his decision, she announced that she intended accompanying him and remaining during the winter at their San Seritos home.
This was a keen disappointment to the lad, who believed that his mother merely wished to try to prevent, if she could, his friendship with Nan Barrington, but Robert was too fine a lad to be discourteous, and so, on a blustery day, they left the East, and, in less than a week, they arrived in the garden village of San Seritos that was basking in the sunshine under a blue cloudless sky.
An hour later, Robert leaped over the little gate in the hedge and raced like a schoolboy across the wide velvety lawns of the Barrington estate.
He saw Nan and dear Miss Dahlia in the garden. At his joyous shout, they both looked up and beheld approaching them a tall lad who was jubilantly waving his cap.
“It’s Robert Widdemere!” Nan said, and then, as he came up and greeted them, she added, “But only yesterday I had a letter from you and in it you said nothing about coming.”
“I wanted to surprise you, Lady Red Bird,” the lad exclaimed. “Isn’t it grand and glorious, Nan, to be once more in this wonderful country. I wish we could start right now for a ride up the mountains.”
“I couldn’t go today,” the gypsy girl laughingly told him, “for I have something baking in the oven and it cannot be left.”
“I could tend to it,” Miss Dahlia said, but Nan shook her head.
“It’s a surprise for tomorrow,” she merrily declared, “and I don’t want even you, Aunt Dahlia, to know what it is.”
Then turning happy eyes toward the lad, she said, “Think of it, Robert Widdemere, tomorrow will be Thanksgiving day and five years since you and I rode to the mountain top.”
“Nan, comrade,” the boy said eagerly, “let’s take that ride again tomorrow, dressed gypsy-wise as we were before, shall we?”
“As you wish, Robert Widdemere,” Nan laughingly replied. “Thanksgiving seems to be a fateful day for us.”
A happy hour the young people spent together. Robert wished to hear all that happened and when Nan protested that she had written every least little thing, he declared that it had all been so interesting, it would bear repeating.
Suddenly the girl sprang up, holding out both hands as she exclaimed, “Robert, I shall have to ask you to come at some other time. I must look after that something which is baking for tomorrow.” The lad caught the hands as he said, “Good-bye, then, I’ll reappear at about ten.”