The Carter Girls' Mysterious Neighbors Part 17

"Has the lighting system come yet?" asked Mr. Carter. "It should have been here by now."

"Did you order one?" asked the count. "I understood I was to send the order and have done so. You sent it off, did you not, Herz?"

"Certainly! A week ago!"

"But you told me to order it," insisted Mr. Carter. "I am sure you did."

"Why, that is all right, my dear fellow," said the count very kindly.

"If both of them come it will make no difference. I can install one of them in the barn and garage."

"Oh, but I cannot let you have the expense of both if I was at fault,"

and Mr. Carter looked distressed. Was his head not behaving as it should, after all?

"Why, my dear Mr. Carter, it might easily have been my mistake and I cannot have you bothered about it. The expense is trifling. Miss Helen, help me to persuade your father that it is nothing."

The count's manner was so kindly and he seemed so anxious to make Mr.

Carter feel that if any mistake had been made he, the count, had made it that Helen was deeply grateful. How much she liked this foreign n.o.bleman, anyhow. He was always so gracious, so suave, so elegant. His heart must be tender, his disposition good, or how could he make all of the poor colored people like him so much? Helen was fully aware of the fact that the count was attracted by her, but there had been times when she was sure he was equally taken with Douglas, and certainly his manner to Nan on several occasions had been one of devotion. He always seemed to be coming out on the train with Nan and Lucy, and Lucy had intimated that he had caused Billy Sutton many sad hours by "hogging"

the seat by Nan. Could he be a flirt? Helen put the thought from her.

She hated a male flirt. Nevertheless she was conscious of the fact that she had a little tiny twinge of jealousy, so tiny that it was only a speck, but it was there.

"It's Douglas's hair and Nan's eyes," she thought. "I believe he thinks I'm more interesting than they are, though," and then she took herself to task for a foolish, vain girl. "What difference does it make to me, anyhow? What do we know of this stranger and what is he to us?"

Now the girls gave their attention to the estate, for they were naturally interested in the work their father had undertaken. The workmen were through, carpenters, plasterers and painters, and the place had been turned over to Count de Lestis. Very beautiful it was and one for any owner to be proud of. The s.p.a.cious hall, with its waxed floor and beautiful stairway with mahogany treads and bannisters, was as fine an example of southern colonial as one could find in the whole of Virginia. The furnis.h.i.+ngs were in keeping with the general plan of the house, as at Mr. Carter's suggestion an antique dealer and decorator from Richmond had had his finger in the pie. Much of the furniture had been bought with the house, being old mahogany that had been at Weston for more than a century.

"How lovely it is!" gasped Helen as the doors to the great dining-room were thrown open.

"I am so glad you like it," whispered the count in a very meaning tone.

"I have your father to thank for its being so complete. Never have I seen work carried on so rapidly. I was afraid I would be living in the discomfort of shavings and mortar beds for months to come."

"Daddy is always like that," said Helen smiling. Nothing pleased Helen so much as praise of her father. "He can always make workmen work. They say in Richmond that not even plumbers disappoint him. He always turns over his houses on time unless there is something absolutely unforeseen, like a strike or something."

"I am indeed fortunate in having prevailed upon him to do this for me."

"But he has enjoyed doing it so much. You see Daddy has not been able to work for so long and I think he had begun to feel that maybe he had lost out, and this proves that he hasn't. He does not know how to be idle.

Why last summer when he was supposed to do nothing but rest he drew the plans and built bird houses for Bobby."

"Ah, indeed! I am so glad you reminded me of something. Mr. Carter," he called to that gentleman who was critically examining some electric wiring recently put in ready for the Delco batteries which were on the way, "I want now some plans for bird houses if such trivial work is not beneath you. I want bird houses for every kind of feathered songster that can be attracted and persuaded to live at Weston."

"How wonderful!" cried Helen and Douglas in chorus. Douglas had been engaged in conversation by the secretary, who was limbering up in an amazing manner. He was most attentive, showing her into every nook and cranny of the old house. He opened sideboards and cabinets to reveal the exquisite finish of the satinwood drawers and shelves; he took down bits of rare old china from the plate rack in the dining-room, explaining the marks on the bottoms. He was so kind that Douglas almost liked him, but not quite.

"Adolph Herz is too German in sound," the Anglo-Saxon in her cried out.

"And then his mouth! It is so red!"

"Certainly I'll enjoy drawing plans for bird houses," laughed Mr.

Carter. "I shall even take pleasure in carpentering them. They are really lots of fun to make."

"I agree with you," said Herz. "Simply drawing a design is never so much pleasure as carrying it out. How a sculptor can be willing to do only the clay modeling of his statue and then let someone else carve the marble is more than I can understand. When I think of something to be done, I must do it myself--trust it to no one."

"Well, I am a lazy bones myself and anyone can do my work," laughed the count. "Now Adolph here has drawn the plan for a pigeon house and he wants to build it himself. I tell him it is absurd, that any carpenter can carry out his ideas, but he will not listen to me. Adolph is a very stubborn man, Miss Carter." He addressed this remark to Douglas who smiled at the young secretary. He was frowning heavily and his full lips were drawn into a hard red line. The count caught his eye and gave him a bantering look in return.

"Come on, Adolph, and show Mr. Carter your plans for the pigeon house!"

"They are not completed," he answered sullenly.

"I am quite a pigeon fancier," went on the master of Weston. "They are charming birds to raise and one can make much money on squabs. We are going into pigeon raising quite seriously. I think we shall build a very large house. Eh, Adolph?"

"Where will you put the pigeon house?" asked Mr. Carter.

"Right there on the roof, about in the centre of the house," said the count, pointing to the top of the mansion.

"Not there! Surely you would not do such a thing!" cried Helen incredulously.

"Why not?"

"It would ruin the architectural effect of Weston," declared Mr. Carter.

"I think not!"

"Well, I know it would," maintained the architect stoutly. "Why, de Lestis, all of my work would be as nothing if you should put a pigeon house there. I beg of you not to!"

"But, my dear Mr. Carter, I am a pigeon fancier and want my pigeons at a point where I can watch them twirling and dipping. I love their cooing, too."

"All right! It is your house and you can do as you choose with it, but please do not mention me as the architect who restored the place. I cannot stand for such a piece of Philistinism." Mr. Carter laughed as he made the above remark, but his daughters knew by a certain look in his eyes that he was angry.

"Are you to have carrier pigeons?" asked Douglas, hoping to relieve the company of an embarra.s.sment that seemed to have fallen upon it.

The secretary still had his mouth drawn in a stern line although he had smoothed his frowning brow. Helen was plainly put out at the count's daring to go against her father's artistic taste, while Count de Lestis seemed to be taking a kind of delight in teasing everybody.

"If you will promise to send me a message, I will," he answered gallantly.

"Oh, that would be great fun! I have never seen a carrier pigeon."

The count then devoted himself to Douglas for the rest of the visit, showing her the pantry shelves that he had on one occasion expressed himself as desirous for Helen to pa.s.s on.

"All we need now is a lady of the manor," he said in a low tone. "It is not meet for man to live alone."

Douglas looked at him quite frankly, her blue eyes steady as she gazed into his black ones. "Can't your mother come and keep house for you?"

she asked quite simply.

There was no flirting in Douglas Carter's make-up. Herz, who refused to go far from her in spite of the count's sudden devoted attentions, relaxed his grim expression that he had held ever since the pigeon house had been the subject of conversation. His mouth broke into a smile and his easy manner returned.

The Carters soon took their departure, although the master of the house was insistent that they should stay to tea with them.

"We must get back to Valhalla," declared Douglas.

"Valhalla! Is that the name of your place?" asked Herz.

"That is the name my sister Nan gave it. She says we are all more or less dead warriors when the day is over. I don't like giving it such a German name myself, but Nan says poetry is universal and---- Oh! I beg your pardon!" The girl had forgotten that her companion was of German birth.