Janice Day, the Young Homemaker Part 12

Delia threw open the door as Mr. Day dropped his paper to look up. Her fat face was wreathed in a triumphant smile, and she said:

"It's the nice lady from nex' door. I guess she come to see your paw about them cats."

Mr. Day looked puzzled.

Janice could have screamed as Miss Peckham marched in. Delia apparently intended to stand in the doorway and enjoy whatever there was to enjoy; but as Mr. Day rose from his seat to welcome the neighbor, he said firmly:

"Thank you, Delia. We shall not need you in here at present.

You may go."

The giantess tossed her head and lumbered out of the room, slamming the door behind her with unnecessary violence.

"Good-evening, Miss Peckham," said the man, offering the spinster a chair. "I don't know just what Delia meant about cats; but I presume you will explain."

"Huh!" snapped Miss Peckham, "I guess that girl of yours hasn't told you about what she done to my Sam. No, indeed! I guess not!"

She was evidently working herself up into a violent state of mind, and Mr. Day, who knew his next door

neighbor very well, hastened to smooth the troubled waters.

"I had not heard anything about cats, Miss Peckham, save the misfortune of a cat convention in our back kitchen yesterday morning. Janice told me about that, of course; but she could scarcely be blamed for it."

"I don't know why she shouldn't be blamed!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the angry woman. "And my Sam's got a broken leg."

"I am sorry if any of the cats were injured. It was a thoughtless joke of--" he caught Janice's eye and understood her meaning, "of one of the neighbor's boys He meant no particular harm, I fancy."

"You needn't try an' lay it on no boy!" exclaimed Miss Peckham.

'"Twas a girl done it. My Sam--"

"You mean that a girl broke the cat's leg?" queried Mr. Day, quietly.

"I mean just that. 'Twas a girl. And that is the girl!" and she pointed an accusing finger at the flushed Janice.

"Oh, I never!" exclaimed the latter under her breath, and shaking her head vigorously.

Mr. Day gave her a smiling look of encouragement.

"I feel sure," he said, to Miss Peckham, "that if Janice had by chance injured an animal--a cat, or any other--she would have told me. But although it may have been a girl who broke your cat's leg, it was not Janice."

"You don't know anything about it!" cried Miss Peckham angrily.

"You don't know what goes on here all day long while you are gone. I pity you, Mr. Day--I pity you from the bottom of my heart. You ought to have a woman here to manage this girl of yours. That's what you need!"

"Oh!" gasped Janice, her color receding now. She was very angry.

"Ah! don't you flout me, Janice Day!" exclaimed the spinster, eyeing Janice malevolently. "I know how bad you act. I don't live right next door for nothin'. An' 'tisn't only at home you act badly, but on the street. Fighting with boys like a hoodlum.

Oh, I heard about it!"

"Wait! Wait!" exclaimed Mr. Day, with sternness. "I think you are out of bounds, Miss Peckham. I do not ask you to tell me how to take care of my little daughter. And I am sure I do not believe that you are rightly informed about her actions, even if you do live next door."

Miss Peckham sniffed harder and tossed her head. "Let us get back to the cats," he went on quietly. "Have you found that one of your cats has been hurt?"

"His leg's broke. The doctor said it was a most vicious blow.

He's put it in a cast, and poor Sam is quite wild."

"But why do you blame Janice?"

"She done it!" exclaimed the spinster nodding her shawled head vigorously. "She ought to be looked after."

"No, Janice did not hurt the cat," said Mr. Day with a.s.surance, "unfortunately the cat was hurt on our premises. But it was the girl working for us, not my little girl, who injured your cat."

"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Peckham sharply. "Not this big thing you've got here--the one that let me in?"

"The Swedish girl," explained Mr. Day. "The cats were shut into our back kitchen, and before Janice could open the door to let them out, Olga, I believe, pelted them with coal."

"But what did she shut 'em up in the kitchen for?' demanded Miss Peckham, still pointing and glaring at Janice.

"Oh, I didn't!" exclaimed the latter, shaking her head vigorously.

"That was not my daughter's doings," Mr. Day repeated. "As I tell you, your cat was undoubtedly hurt on our premises. If I can do anything to satisfy you--pay the doctor's bill, or the like--"

"I don't want money from you, Broxton Day," exclaimed

the woman rising. "I didn't come here for that purpose. I came here to tell you that your house is goin' to rack and ruin and that your girl needs a strong hand to manage her. That's what she needs. You ain't had no proper home here since your wife died."

"I fear that is only too true, Miss Peckham," replied Mr. Day.

"If Mrs. Day knew how things was goin' she'd turn in her grave, I do believe," went on the neighbor, perhaps not wholly in bitterness.

The man's face paled. Miss Peckham did not know how much she was adding to the burden of sorrow in the hearts of Broxton Day and his little daughter. Janice was sobbing now, with her face hidden.

"What you need is an intelligent woman to take hold," went on the neighbor, warming to her subject. "Take this creature you got now. Ugh! Big elephant, and don't scarcely know enough to come in when it rains, I do believe."

"The cla.s.s of people one finds at the agencies is admittedly not of a high order of intelligence," said Mr. Day softly.

"I should say they weren't--if them you've had is samples,"

sniffed Miss Peckham. "Why don't you get somebody decent?"

"I wish you would tell me how to go about getting a better houseworker," sighed Mr. Day.

"Get a working housekeeper--one that's trained and is respectable. Somebody to overlook--"

"But I cannot afford two servants," the man hastened to submit.

"I ain't suggesting another servant. Somebody that respects herself too much to be called a servant. Of course it's hard to find the right party.

"However, some women can do it. And that is the kind you need, Broxton Day. Somebody who will be firm with your girl, here, too."

"I am afraid," said Janice's father quietly, "that the sort of person you speak of is beyond my means; perhaps such a marvel is not in the market at all," and he