Dorothy at Skyrie Part 21

"All right," cheerfully answered the girl, not at all offended by his rebuff of her attentions. "We'll find a place for my Portia and your phaeton, and I think it's perfectly lovely for us to have them, half-and-half, that way, Jim, just think! How little we dreamed of such splendid times together when we were at Miranda Stott's!"

Old "Si Waterman's Folly," as the rumored "mine" was called, seemed to be coming into sudden prominence. For years it had lain unnoticed, but some recent excavations on the other side of the mountain had recalled to the public this long abandoned one at Skyrie. The very first time that Dorothy had the delight of driving her father out in the phaeton, which was so low and comfortable for him to use, they met Friend Oliver Sands upon the road, and he brought up the subject by a roundabout manner all his own.

He had not been present at the "Bee." He had even expressed his disapproval of such an affair, affirming that "n.o.body should undertake to run a farm unless he knew he could do it." Which might be good sense but influenced few. Indeed, when hearing afterward of the sale whereby Daisy-Jewel was metamorphosed, so to speak, into a pony, he had been angry--as angry as such a benign old gentleman could be.

He had made an unnecessary gift to an unappreciative girl and _she_ had made money out of it; whereas, if things had gone as he expected, it would have been himself who should make it. Hannah had been transformed into a model cow by the simplest of methods, one that he should have been wise enough to try for himself only--he hadn't thought of it. Of course, it was a good thing for him who had advanced money upon the land that Skyrie should be put into good condition, even though it were as temporary as but one day's labor would make it. But he had heard things.

Rumors were afloat. He hoped these rumors had not yet reached the ears of Skyrie's owners; but if they had he had still time to forestall them and reap his own advantage. Altogether, a thrifty soul was Oliver, the good; though his tones were sweetly sympathetic as he now brought his own smart team to a standstill in the very path of Portia and the phaeton.

"Don't stop, Dolly, if you can help it, but drive straight past the miller who's coming. Exchange bows, of course, if a Quaker will bow; but I'm too happy to-day to be disturbed by talk with him. Ever since he loaned us that money, 'payable on demand,' I've felt uncomfortable. It's wretched enough to owe money to anybody, but I'd have felt safer if we'd borrowed from Mrs. Calvert or even from a bank. Oh, dear! He's going to stop and we will have to!" had been Mr. Chester's hurried comments, so soon as from a little distance they saw Mr. Sands approaching.

It was a rare bit of confidence and Dorothy looked at him in some surprise. She did not share in her father's prejudice against the kind gentleman who had given her the pretty calf, and indeed was doubly grateful to him now that she had exchanged his gift for Portia. So it was in all sincerity that she returned his pleasant:

"I am glad to see thee again, little Dorothy. Thee has a bonny face that should win thee many friends."

"And I am glad to see you, Mr. Sands. I wish I understood the 'plain language,' too, then I could answer 'thee' after thy own fas.h.i.+on. Do you--does thee see my pretty pony? Her name is Portia. I bought her with the money paid for the calf you gave me. The pony is more useful to us, 'cause my father's lame, and so I am twice pleased. This is the first time he has ridden out with me, but I can drive real well already."

"For a beginner thee does very well, and the plain speech is the sweetest in the world--heard on the lips of pretty girls. By the way, John, I was on my way to see thee about a little matter of business.

Thee may have heard that I like to acquire and hold land?"

The statement was in the form of a question, to which the ex-postman rather coldly replied: "Yes, so I have heard." He resented the familiar "John" on this "plain" speaker's lips, though he had never felt otherwise than complimented by Mrs. Cecil's even more familiar "Johnnie." It was a case of like and dislike, and as inconsistent as most such cases are.

"Can you speak freely before the little maid, John Chester?"

"With perfect freedom. There are no secrets in our household----" At which remark Dorothy slightly winced, remembering that dreadful "secret"

of the "ghost," which she had hidden from her parents. "We are a united family in all respects and Dorothy fully understands our circ.u.mstances."

"Very well. That is a good thing. It speaks well for thy household.

Regarding that little loan of mine, 'payable on demand,' I have considered the matter well. Thee needs money, I want land. If thee will sell me a portion of Skyrie farm that transaction should offset the other. That south meadow, for instance, known by the name of 'Si Waterman's Folly,' is worth, at ruling prices for waste mountain land, about two hundred dollars. I loaned thee three hundred; but on account of thy affliction I would pay thee more than I would another man. What does thee say?"

"I say that the property is my wife's; just as I told you before. My affliction does not enter into the case, but I shall certainly advise her against such an unfair transaction as that. There are ten acres in that south meadow, and I have learned that mountain land is not so cheap as you would have me think."

"Thee may have been misinformed. Ground suitable for fancy building lots may command a slight advance upon the ruling price, but not an overgrown piece, half-woods, half-rocks, like that misnamed 'south meadow.' Meadow stands for rich and profitable land; not such as the 'Folly.' Why, friend John, it would take all of that three hundred dollars I offer thee to fill up that hole which required several years of Simon Waterman's life to dig. The 'love of money is the root of evil,' the Good Book tells us, and it was an undue love of money which sent friend Simon to that hopeless task. A dream misled him--Thee has heard the story, John?"

"No, nor care to. We are going for a drive--my first, as Dolly explained--and a storm threatens. I will add my thanks to hers, and do appreciate the fact that but for your gift of the calf we should not now own this pretty pony."

"I trust thee may long enjoy the luxury. 'Calico' ponies are as pretty as uncommon, and there is a superst.i.tion in the neighborhood that they bring 'good luck.' Some even fancy that to 'wish upon one' has the same result. I will not detain thee from thy recreation, but will pa.s.s on to Skyrie and talk matters over with Martha herself."

With a click of his unctuous lips the miller started his team into swift motion and vanished from sight: but he left discomfort behind him and had effectually spoiled that ride for father John. Also the few clouds which had been gathering grew heavier with each pa.s.sing moment and, as the invalid was careful never to expose himself to a drenching, Dorothy soon turned Portia's head homeward and arrived there just in time to escape the slight summer shower.

Martha met them with a brighter countenance than she had shown for many days, and the exclamation:

"Good news, dear ones! That splendid old Quaker gentleman has just left here, and has made me such a generous offer. He says, since we so dislike debt, that he will take that worthless south meadow off our hands and call it an equivalent for the money he advanced. Farming is hard enough, but farming free from debt would be lessened of half its worries."

"Martha, I hope you didn't tell him you would sell!" protested Mr.

Chester, alarmed.

Her brightness faded into that unhappy sharpness which was becoming habitual and she returned, sarcastically:

"Of course, I didn't promise. A good wife never does dare promise anything without consulting her husband, even about her own property.

I'll come with you, Dorothy, and help put up the pony."

"O mother! Now you've hurt father's feelings and it isn't like you to do that! I--I begin to understand why he dislikes that miller and his money business, for he makes you disagree so. That's something never used to be at dear old 77 Brown Street!"

"Dorothy Chester! How dare you speak to me like that?" demanded the overtired housemistress, with an asperity rarely shown to her beloved child.

"Beg pardon, mother. It was wrong. I only felt--I wish father liked Mr.

Sands as well as you and I do, but don't let's talk of him any more. No, thank you, I don't need you to help with Portia. I'm proud to know how to harness and unharness all by myself. It was good of Jim and old Ephraim to teach me, and Mrs. Calvert says she is going to give me a little side-saddle to fit the pony. She has ordered it made in Newburgh from measures Ephraim took one day. Isn't she the dearest? Please, sit down and rest, mother dear. I'll do whatever's needed as soon as I've put Portia under cover."

There were both balm and bane in Dorothy's words. Martha was soothed by the child's sweet affection and jealous that that other richer woman had the power to bestow gifts such as she could not. She had now learned of the offer of Mrs. Cecil to adopt Dorothy and this had not diminished her jealousy; but, at the same time, the longer and better she knew the lady of Deerhurst the more she was forced to admire and respect her.

As soon as Dorothy had driven toward the barn and Mr. Chester had entered the kitchen his wife returned to the subject of that south meadow.

"That field is the laughing-stock of the whole town, John, and I can't see why you should object to my selling it. To keep it would, it seems to me, make it 'Chester's Folly,' as well as 'Waterman's.'"

He answered rather sadly:

"I have no right to object, Martha, and I will not if your heart is set upon the deed. Yet I should not be loyal to your interests, if I did not caution prudence. Wait a bit. Take advice upon the matter. Of that wise Seth Winters, or Mr. Smith, or even of the best lawyer in Newburgh.

There----"

"Lawyers! We've no money to waste upon lawyers, John."

"I know. Still, there is such a thing as being 'penny wise and pound foolish.' Oliver Sands is a long-headed, shrewd old chap. He sees money, more of it than he suggested, in that south meadow, else he would never try to buy it. As for that extra hundred dollars he proposes to give--Pooh! He plans to more than reimburse himself. As Mrs. Calvert saw he did in that smaller affair of the calf. That he was outwitted then was due to Mrs. Cecil's knowledge of his character."

"You've just had a ride behind a horse we shouldn't have owned except for him," she reminded.

"I know, and I give him all credit due. Only I do not want you to agree to anything unfair to yourself. Why, Martha, we do not even know what that 'mine' is like. We have seen that the top of the 'hole' is covered, in part, by a sort of trap door, more than half-hidden by vines and bushes, and almost half decayed away. I peered down under what was left of the trap, that time I went there with Dorothy: but I was far too tired with my crutch-walk to do more than that, even if I had not feared some unseen danger. She was eager to slip under the trap and find out for both of us, but, of course, that was out of the question. Probably, it _is_ just a piece of 'Folly'; yet in other things Simon Waterman had the reputation of being a sane, sensible man. He proved himself such by willing so much of his property to you, my dear."

"Humph! I don't see just now that it's so valuable. I feel as if Skyrie farm was a burden that would crush the life out of me yet," she returned, in that discouraged tone it was so painful to hear, and which always stirred his deep regret for that affliction which had thrust upon a woman's shoulders that weight of care which only the man's should have borne. "He said that he wanted that meadow merely because it would 'square' out his own property. He holds a mortgage on land lying between his Heartsease and Skyrie, of which our south meadow is the limit. He's to foreclose that mortgage and longs to own that one field of ours just to complete the shape of his farm. That's natural, isn't it?"

"Wholly and entirely natural to him, from what I've heard the neighbors say. But let him go. All I ask is that you should wait a little, until you can make inquiries of persons wiser than we are in land-lore, before you take a step you cannot retrace. Now, kiss me, my wife, and don't let's allow the portly shadow of Oliver Sands to fall across our peace again."

She did kiss him, and she did feel so impressed by his wisdom that she promised to follow his advice and "wait" before deciding the question of the south meadow: which strangely enough seemed so much more important to him than to her.

So, coming in from the barn and Portia, "running between drops" as she expressed it, Dorothy found happiness restored and hastened to unfold a plan which Helena and she had thought out and to which her parents gave a ready a.s.sent.

"You see, mother, the summer is going very, very fast, and before we know it, almost, Deerhurst and the Towers and all the big houses will be closed and the families gone away for the _long_ winter. We haven't yet had even that camp-picnic Herbert planned. First he was away, or Helena sick, or something or other all the time kept happening. Now she wants to give a picnic herself and ask all the young folks 'up-mounting' to it. We made out a list the last time I went to see her, and first she had written only the names of the rich young folks on the Heights. Then I coaxed her and told her how much more it would mean to the poor ones, like myself, than it possibly could to those others. Then she was as nice as nice! and wrote down every name I said. Mrs. Smith's boys, and every Babc.o.c.k except Claretta and Diaretta. Jim, too, of course, if he'll go. Helena is to provide the eating part of the picnic and I am to provide the place, if you'll let me. That's the south meadow that so many people are talking about, Herbert says, just now. Oh! I do hope you won't sell it to Mr. Sands before we have the party!"

"Not likely, unless you put it off too long," answered Mrs. Chester, quietly. "Do you mean that Miss Montaigne is willing, can afford, to provide food for a large company like that? Because, though I might----"

"O mother! Don't you worry about that. Of course she can 'afford'--why, anything in the world she wants, I reckon. The people at the Towers seem to think as lightly about spending money as we would about using the water from our well. I'm to take Portia to the Towers in the phaeton and bring back Helena and the baskets. Funny! How that girl who has so many faster horses of her own likes to ride behind my darling pet! But Portia _can_ travel, too, if she takes a notion. Why, the other morning when you sent me to Eliza Jane's store of an errand and an automobile was going down the mountain behind us, she just picked up her little heels and raced that auto--My! how she did run! But--the auto beat.

Wasn't it too bad? Portia was so disgusted. It must be awfully trying to waste all one's breath racing an automobile and then get beaten."

"It must, indeed; but I hope that's the last time you'll ever let her enter such a race as that. Child, you might be killed! An accident to either pony or machine--Dolly, never do it again!" cried father John, alarmed by the danger already safely pa.s.sed.

"When do you want this picnic?" asked Mrs. Chester, with interest, and feeling somewhat flattered that the chosen ground for it should be on her own premises.

"Why, Sat.u.r.day, if it's fine. If not, then the next Monday. We want to go early, in the morning sometime, and stay the whole day. We mean to explore that mine they call the 'Folly,' and who knows? I may bring home a nugget of pure gold! Wouldn't that be fine? I'm so glad you are willing. I think I'll harness Portia again and ride to tell Helena, after dinner; and I'll get that now. I can do it all alone if you'll only trust me. You rest, mother dear, and read your Baltimore weekly. It came last night and yet you haven't even taken the wrapper off."

The dinner was to be a simple one and well-trained Dorothy was capable of preparing it; so Mrs. Chester did take the proffered rest and was deep in the home news which interested her so greatly when a shadow fell upon the threshold and she glanced up to see two men who appeared to be surveyors, for they carried the instruments of such over their shoulders; and the announcement made by the elder of the two fairly took her breath away: