Mr. Pat's Little Girl Part 31

By this time Mr. Whittredge had arrived on the scene and was introduced.

"So this is the detective," he said.

The culprits looked at each other and meditated flight, but changed their minds when Dr. Hollingsworth shook hands with them, and said he knew how it was to have a new camera and want to take everything in sight, and that he really felt complimented.

Belle thought she wouldn't have minded, except for the detective part of it, over which Mr. Whittredge made so much fun.

The ring was exhibited, and the whole matter made clear after a while, and Dr. Hollingsworth said he was glad to have figured in any capacity in such an interesting occurrence.

"And how in the world did it get in the spinet?" asked Miss Betty. "I believe Cousin Thomas put it there himself, as a practical joke."

Miss Betty might have been holding a reception that morning, so full of people did her small porch appear, and so continuous was the hum of voices.

Dr. Hollingsworth, it seemed, had been in the habit of visiting in Friends.h.i.+p twenty years ago, and finding himself in the vicinity, he had made it convenient to call upon his old friends; but, as he said, things had been rather against him. His college friend, the Presbyterian minister, was away on his vacation, Miss Bishop out of town for the day, and Rosalind, he did not know where.

"And so there was nothing for me to do but loaf about that first afternoon," he explained, "but little did I think to what dark suspicions I was laying myself open," and he smiled at Belle.

"Cousin Betty, you never told me you knew our president," Rosalind said reproachfully.

Miss Hetty laughed. "You see it had been such a long, long time, Rosalind--"

"That she had forgotten me," added the president.

"Oh, no, I hadn't," she insisted.

They all felt that they should like to see more of him, and that it was too bad he had to leave on the five o'clock train. The last hour was spent with the Whittredges, and Rosalind and Allan accompanied him to the station. Here, while they waited, Rosalind had an opportunity to tell him about the society of Arden Foresters, in which he seemed greatly interested, and was saying he should like to belong, when the gong sounded the approach of the train, and there was only time for good-by.

"I shall be in this part of the country late in October, and may look in upon you again," the president put his head out of the window to say, as the conductor called, "All aboard."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURTH.

AT THE AUCTION.

"a.s.suredly the thing is to be sold."

Although the September days were warm, it was plain that summer was departing. The flutter of yellow b.u.t.terflies along the road told it, so did the bursting pods of the milkweed, and the golden-rod and asters, wreathing the meadows in royal colors.

The potting of plants began in the gardens, housewifely minds turned to fall cleaning, the spicy odor of tomato catsup pervaded the atmosphere, and the sound of the school bell was heard in the land.

It was always so, Belle groaned. Just when out of doors grew most alluring, lessons put in their superior claim. To be sure, there were some free afternoons and always Sat.u.r.days, but one did not want to lose a moment of the fleeting beauty.

Rosalind missed somewhat the constant companions.h.i.+p of her friends. Mrs.

Whittredge thought it hardly worth while to enter her in school for two months, but at the instigation of Miss Herbert some home instruction was begun. This Uncle Allan had no conscience about interrupting whenever he wanted Rosalind for a drive or walk. As yet he said nothing about leaving Friends.h.i.+p. A few brief sentences had been exchanged with his mother upon the subject that weighed most heavily on his mind.

"Has anything ever been done, any step taken, to correct the unfounded report which got out at the time of my father's death, in regard to Dr.

Fair's treatment of the case?" he asked abruptly one evening.

The color rose in Mrs. Whittredge's face, and she looked up from her work.

"I do not understand you. How do you know it was unfounded?"

"For one thing, because I have taken pains to investigate. I saw Dr. Bell in Baltimore."

"May I ask why this sudden zeal?" His mother went on taking careful st.i.tches in a piece of linen.

"For the reason that until a few weeks ago I knew nothing about it. Now I cannot rest till the cruel wrong has been in some measure righted."

"And you conclude without question, at once, that all the wrong is on one side. But I should not be surprised. I have ever been the last to be considered by my children."

"You are not quite fair, mother," Allan answered gently, touched by the unhappy bit of truth in this remark; "but I'll not defend myself more than to say that I am not judging any one. I only wish the wrong on our side made right." And he added, what he realized afterward had the sound of a threat, "Unless it is done, I can never call Friends.h.i.+p my home."

Here it ended for the time.

And now, after a week of rain, October began with perfect weather, and from the strangers who flocked to the auction, attracted by reports of Lowestoft plates and Sheraton furniture, were heard many expressions of delight at the beauty of the old town.

For two hours before the sale began, a stream of people pa.s.sed through the house, examining its contents, or wandered about the grounds, admiring the view and the fine beech trees. Friends.h.i.+p itself was well represented in the throng, but rather in the character of interested onlookers than probable purchasers.

Miss Betty was there to watch the fate of her silver, and Allan Whittredge had brought Rosalind, who was eager to see for herself what an auction was like. She hung entranced over Patricia's miniature, which with some other small things of value had been placed in a gla.s.s case in the library, until her uncle told her if she would select some article of furniture that particularly pleased her, he would try to get it for her. This delighted her beyond measure, and after much consideration she chose a chest of drawers, with a small mirror above it, swung between two sportive and graceful dolphins. "The little dolphin bureau," she called it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SHE CHOSE A CHEST OF DRAWERS."]

The sale was to begin at eleven o'clock, and silverware and china were first to be disposed of. The long drawing-room was full of camp chairs, and the audience had begun to a.s.semble when Rosalind entered and sat down in a corner to wait for her uncle, who was interviewing the auctioneer.

Two rows in front of her she saw Miss Betty, with Mrs. Parton and Mrs.

Molesworth.

"Do you expect to bid on your cream-jug and sugar-bowl when they are put up, Betty?" asked Mrs. Parton; adding, "How this chair squeaks! I wonder if it will hold me."

"I haven't made up my mind," was the answer. "It goes against the grain to give money for what is really mine already. I can't get over the impression that this is a funeral instead of a sale."

"I wonder if the Whittredges will buy anything. I saw Allan in the hall,"

said Mrs. Molesworth. She was a tall, angular person, with a severe manner, a marked contrast to Mrs. Parton, with her ample proportions and laughing face. "By the way, Betty," she continued, "what has become of the ring?"

"I know no more than you."

The entrance of several strangers and some confusion about seats, kept Rosalind from hearing any more of the conversation for a time. A portly man completely blocked the way, and she began to wonder if her uncle would be able to get to the chair she was keeping for him.

When things were quiet again, she heard Mrs. Molesworth say, leaning over Miss Betty and speaking to Mrs. Parton, "Why, she was an actress, wasn't she?"

"I don't see that that was such an insuperable objection," Mrs. Parton replied, "In point of family she was just as good as he, perhaps a little better. The colonel and I met a lady at Cape May who knew them well. This girl was left an orphan early, and through the rascality of her guardian found herself penniless at seventeen. She had inherited the artistic gift of her family, only in her it took the dramatic turn, and necessity and her surroundings all combined to lead her in that direction. Then just as she was making a success she gave it up to marry--" Another interruption, and Rosalind did not hear whom she married.

Her uncle now managed to join her by stepping over the backs of chairs, and it was not long before the sale began.

From the start it was evident the city people had not come to look on.