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"I simply can't stand it!" exploded Dum as soon as she got out of earshot. "It will give me apoplexy."
Luncheon was a merry meal that day as Zebedee was in an especially delightful mood and Mary Flannagan had many funny new stories to tell.
She was an indefatigable reader of jokes and could reel them off by the yard, but all the time our romantic souls were atremble to see how Miss c.o.x would take the news of the proposed visit of her one-time lover. We half hoped and half feared that Zebedee would mention the fact that he had extended this invitation to Mr. Gordon, and perhaps she might faint.
We did not want her to faint, but if she did faint we hoped we would be there to see it. We kept wondering why Zebedee did not tell her and finally quite casually he asked:
"Where do you think we had better put Gordon, Jinny?"
"Gordon? Gordon who?"
"Why, Bob Gordon! Didn't the girls tell you he is coming out to stay over Sunday?"
"No--we--we--you--we thought----" but no one ever found out what we did think nor did we find out what Miss c.o.x thought of the return of her supposed lover, for just at this juncture Blanche came into view ready for the "hysterics of domestic servitude." In taking off her "begalia of travel" she had also removed the large, s.h.i.+ny pompadour and disclosed to view a woolly head covered with little tight "wropped" plaits. She had on a blue checked long-sleeved ap.r.o.n made by what is known as the bungalow pattern, her expression was quite meek and she looked very youthful and rather pathetic. I realized that her vast amount of a.s.surance had come entirely from her fine clothes, and now that she had taken them off she was nothing more nor less than a poor, overgrown country darkey who had been sent to school and taught a lot of stuff before she had any foundation to put it on. It turned out later that she could neither read nor write with any ease, and all of her high-sounding, misp.r.o.nounced words she had gathered from lectures she had attended in the school. She was suffering from this type of schooling as I would have suffered had I gone straight from Bracken to college without getting any training at Gresham.
The effect was so startling, to see this girl whom we had left only a few minutes ago arrayed in all her splendor, now looking for all the world like a picked chicken, that Miss c.o.x and her romance were for the moment forgotten and all our energies were taken up in trying to compose our countenances. Then Mary Flannagan swallowed a sardine whole and had to be well thumped, and by that time Miss c.o.x was able to control her voice (if she had ever lost control of it), and she asked, in a most matter-of-fact way, questions about the expected guest; and if her colour was a little heightened, it might have been Blanche who had caused it. Were we not all of us as red as roses?
CHAPTER VII.
OH, YOU CHAPERONE!
Dum and Dee were to take turns keeping house but I had a steady job as the Advisory Board and we hoped to manage without worrying Miss c.o.x. The girls had tossed up to find out who should begin, and Dee had first go, which meant breaking in Blanche. We were glad to see that she seemed to understand dish was.h.i.+ng and that she moved rapidly considering her size and shape.
"Now, Blanche," said Dee with a certain pardonable importance, "my father is to have a guest this evening and we want to have a very nice supper, so you must tell us what are the dishes you can make best."
"Well, Miss Tucker, I is had great successfulness with my choclid cake and blue mawnge."
"Oh, I did not mean dessert but the substantial part of the supper,"
gasped Dee. Blanche was always making us gasp, as she was so unexpected.
"Well, as for that my co'se is not took up many things as yit, but I is mastered the stuffin' of green peppers and kin make a most appetizement dish. Up to the presence, the the'ry of domesticated silence has been mo' intrusting to me than the practization."
Dee looked forlornly to me for help and indeed I felt it was time for the Advisory Board to step in.
"Blanche," I said, rather sternly, "did you ever cook any before you went to school?"
"Cook? Of co'se I did, Miss Page. I'se been a-cookin' ever sence I could take a ask cake out'n the fire 'thout burnin' myse'f up."
"Good! Now see here, Blanche, we want you to cook for us the way you cooked before you ever went to school. Just forget all about domestic science and cook."
"Don't you want no choclid cake an' no blue mawnge?"
"Not tonight," said Dee gently as Blanche's countenance was so sad. "We want some fried fish and some batter bread and perhaps some hot biscuit or waffles. There are some beautiful tomatoes in the refrigerator and some lettuce and we can have peaches and cream for dessert."
"'Thout no cake?"
"Well, I tell you what you can do," said the tender-hearted Dee. "You can make us a chocolate cake for Sunday dinner if your supper turns out well this evening."
"Oh, thank you, Miss Tucker. I is got so much sentiment fer cake. Now which do you choose to have, biscuit or waffles?"
We thought biscuit would be best to start Blanche on and after cautioning her to call us if she was in doubt about anything, we left her to work her own sweet will.
Her own sweet will turned out to be a pretty good one and we were wise to leave her to it. I did get out in the kitchen just in time to keep her from putting sugar in the batter bread, something she had picked up in school from her Northern teachers. I thought it best to take the batter bread in my own hands after that, and to Zebedee's great comfort, made it until I felt sure Blanche could do it as well as I could.
Zebedee and I were on the porch waiting for supper and Mr. Gordon to arrive, while Dee went out to put the finis.h.i.+ng touch to her housekeeping. Dum and the two other girls had strolled in the direction of the trolley to meet the guest whom we rather expected to come on the next car. Miss c.o.x had not yet made her appearance after the second dip we had had that day.
"Have you known Mr. Gordon very long?" I queried.
"Ever since our first year at the University. He's a bully good fellow but awfully queer in a way. Used to be very quick-tempered, but I fancy all these years of teaching have rather toned down his temper. Jinny c.o.x used to be a perfect pepper pot; but temper and teaching don't go very well together and she is as mild as a May morning now."
"Did Miss c.o.x know Mr. Gordon very well in those old days?"
"Why, bless me if I remember. We all of us ran in a crowd. As well as I can recall, it seems to me that Bob Gordon and Jinny c.o.x were always rowing about one thing or another. You see I was so in love with my little Virginia that all I can remember of those days is just what touched us," and Zebedee wiped his eyes, which had filled with tears as they always did when he spoke of his little wife who had lived such a short time. "I do kind of half remember that one day we spent at Montecello on a picnic when it rained cats and dogs, Jinny and Bob had such a row they could not go back together although he was her escort.
That was the time Jinny and I made up the tune and danced the Lobster Quadrille," and Zebedee was laughing before he had quite dried his tears, as was the way with all the Tuckers. "Bob left the University soon after that,--some financial difficulties at home because his father had lost his fortune,--and then I believe old Bob got a job in a district school and has been teaching ever since--Look here, Page, do you know I believe my soul Bob and Jinny were engaged then! I have a kind of half memory that my little Virginia told me they were, on the way home from Montecello. Well, if I'm not an a.s.s! Why, it was not poor, dear Blanche, after all, that was scaring off Gordon, but Jinny c.o.x!
Well, well!"
I couldn't help smiling in rather a superior way and Zebedee exclaimed:
"I believe you knew it all the time," but just then the girls returned, bringing Mr. Gordon with them and what I knew or did not know had to keep for another time.
Mr. Gordon was very much spruced up and did not look nearly so old and tired as he had in the morning. His light grey suit and hat were in excellent taste, setting off his iron-grey hair and moustache, and on the whole his appearance was so distinguished that we were more thrilled than ever at the thought of just how Miss c.o.x was going to treat him.
I fancy there is no human so romantic as a sixteen-year-old girl and here were five girls all in the neighbourhood of sixteen and all simply bubbling over with sentimentality. Miss c.o.x came out on the porch and there we stood fully prepared for any outburst. We all of us noted that Miss c.o.x looked remarkably well in a blue and white lawn that showed off her really very good figure to perfection. I had long ago found out that Miss c.o.x was not so very homely, after all. To be sure her face was rather crooked, and her smile very twisted, but her head was well set, and her hair thick and glossy, and her figure athletic and graceful.
"h.e.l.lo, Bob!"
"h.e.l.lo, Jinny!" and that was all! They shook hands in quite a matter-of-fact way.
"I believe we were mistaken," whispered Dum to me.
"Wait and see," I cautioned, "they could not fall on each other's necks right before all of us."
"Maybe not, but they need not greet each other like long lost fish,"
grumbled Dum.
But I knew very well if they had been nothing at all to each other but just acquaintances who had not met for about seventeen years, they would have had some conventional remarks to make and not just said "h.e.l.lo!"
At this crucial moment poor, dear Blanche appeared announcing supper:
"Your repast is reserved, Miss Tucker," and in we went to a very good meal. Blanche had evidently found it no trouble to forget what she had learned at school in the way of domestic science and she had cooked as good a Virginia supper as one could wish. The Hampton spots were done to a turn; the biscuit were light and fluffy, and as I had seen to the batter bread, if I do say it who shouldn't, it was about perfect.
Mr. Gordon may have been suffering with lovesickness of seventeen years'
standing, but he certainly proved himself a good trencher knight.
"All of you have some excuse for appet.i.tes as I wager anything you have been in the water twice today, but I have no excuse except that the food is so good and I am so tired of boarding," said our guest as he helped himself to another fluffy biscuit that poor, dear Blanche was handing around with an elegant air like a d.u.c.h.ess at a tea.