Drusilla with a Million Part 24

"I don't know what to do. Where'll we go if we don't go back?" She thought a moment. "I'll ask Joseph; he always knows everything." She turned to the waiting chauffeur. "Joseph, we don't want to go home.

Ain't there anything we can see?"

Joseph looked at the five old ladies, evidently at a loss as to what would please them; then a suggestion occurred to him.

"You might go to a moving-picture show."

"What's that?"

"It's--it's a kind of theater."

"Well, I ain't never seen one," said Drusilla; and turned to the old ladies, who were waiting patiently to learn of their final disposal.

"Do you want to go to a movin'-picture show?"

"What's that?" came in chorus.

"I don't know myself, but it's a sort of--sort of--"

"Never mind what it is, we want to go."

"Yes, let's go, Drusilla; let's not go home."

And the patrons of the moving-picture house had a view of six old ladies, piloted by a smartly dressed chauffeur, who saw them seated in a box and then left them. It was really a very good moving-picture, and if the actors could have seen the delight of the box party they would have felt they had not toiled in vain. They sat for two hours entranced by the scenes that pa.s.sed before them on the screen. One of the plays was a war-time drama, and the old ladies were quite likely the only ones in the house to whom the blue and the gray brought memories.

At the end of the reel, Drusilla decided that they should be leaving, as supper would be ready at the home. One of the old ladies objected.

"Let's not go home, Drusilla; let's miss supper."

"It's bean night, anyway," said another. "Let's stay."

Five pairs of dim old eyes looked at Drusilla beseechingly.

"Well, we'll stay just a little while longer," she concluded.

The little while quite likely would have been the rest of the evening if the performance had not finished for the afternoon. They rose with a sigh and left the theater. When they started to help Grandma Perkins into the car, she stopped with one foot on the step.

"Drusilla, I want to ride with the man," she said.

"Oh, but, Grandma, you'd catch cold," Drusilla objected.

"I wouldn't," she wailed, "and I want to. I might jest as well die fer a sheep as a lamb, and I won't never git no chance again to feel myself goin' through the air with nothin' in front of me."

"But, Grandma--"

The old lip quivered, and the eyes filled childishly.

"But I want to, Drusilla. I don't want to be all squshed up with a lot of old women where I can't see nothin'. I want to see, and I want to _feel."_

Drusilla turned helplessly to the other women, and then Joseph came to her aid.

"She can sit here, Ma'am. I'll fix the wind s.h.i.+eld so's she won't catch cold, and you can put this rug around her. She'll be warm."

Grandma Perkins was lifted into the seat by the driver, bundled up in a big fur rug so that only her bright eyes could be seen, and they were off. Twice on the way home Grandma Perkins was seen to lean towards the chauffeur and the car jumped forward until it seemed that they were flying. When at last they drove into the "home" grounds, they found a very anxious superintendent and John waiting for them, fearing something had happened.

As Drusilla took her leave, Grandma Perkins chuckled childishly.

"I always said, Drusilla, that I didn't want to die and go to Heaven; but I've changed my mind. I'll go any time now, 'cause I like flyin' and am willin' to be an angel."

The superintendent was inclined to be angry with Drusilla--as angry as she could be with a woman who possessed a million dollars. She said stiffly:

"I'm afraid the ladies will be ill to-morrow."

One of them, hearing it, spoke up.

"Of course we'll all be sick; but, then, it was worth it!"

And Drusilla left with those words ringing in her ears.

"John," she said, "perhaps all is vanity and a strivin' after wind; but the preacher didn't know much about women, or his wives didn't have motorcars."

CHAPTER VIII

One morning James came to Drusilla.

"There is a man downstairs who wishes to see you," he announced.

"What does he want?" asked Drusilla.

"He does not say; just says he wants to see you personally. He says he is from your home town or village."

Drusilla looked up, pleased.

"Is that so. Take him in one of the setting-rooms and I'll be right down."

James hesitated.

"What is it, James?"

"He, well, he is not exactly a gentleman; he looks like a man from the country."

"That ain't nothin' to disgrace him for life. I'm from the country too, and I'm real glad to see any one from the place where I was raised. I ain't seen no one from there for a long time."

When she went downstairs she found a rather florid man, about fifty years of age, dressed as a farmer would dress when out on a holiday.

She extended her hand cordially.

"James tells me you are from Adams," she said. "I'm real glad to see somebody from there. Set down. Won't you take off your coat?"