CHAPTER VI
GLAMOURY
Alicia insisted that we were living in a fairy-story, and had betterenjoy every shining minute while it lasted. But, as I pointed out,the cost of restoring Hynds House was appallingly real, so real thatit left a big, big hole in the bank-account. It is true that we whonever really had had a home since we were little children, and thenthe most modest sort, had gotten such a home as comes to but few.But--one doesn't get something for nothing!
We had done our part for Hynds House; now Hynds House had to do itspart for us. It had to earn its keep, and ours. We had known thatfrom the beginning, and Alicia mapped out the entire plan of howit was to be done; a plan which I at first looked upon as thefairy-storiest part of the whole thing!
To-night we sat facing each other across the library table, with agreat pile of receipted bills between us, the total of which made mefeel pale. Alicia, however, was cheerfully figuring away on her ownhook; and presently she shoved a list of addresses across to me.
The first two were the head of our old firm, and the one celebrityI had ever seen or spoken to, a novelist and lecturer withrecord-breaking best sellers to his account. He once had somebusiness dealings with our firm, and I attended to the details,thereby winning his cantankerous approval. He had very bad manners,of which he was totally unashamed, and very good morals, of whichhe was somewhat doubtful, as they didn't smack of genius; a notionthat he was a superior sort of Sherlock Holmes, having thetruffle-hound's flair for discovering and following up clews andunraveling mysteries, most of which didn't exist outside of his owneager mind; and such a genuine passion for old and beautiful thingsas Balzac had. It was upon this last foundation that Alicia wasbuilding.
"He has written that the average wealthy modern home is acombination of Pullman Palace Car and Gehenna. And that theso-called crime wave which sweeps recurrently over American cities,is very likely nothing more than the inevitable reaction of ourdamnable house decorations upon our immature intellects." Aliciarepeated it dreamily. "I have chosen for him the upper southwesternroom with the sunset effect and the pineapple four-poster. It has aclaw-footed desk of block mahogany, three hand-carved walnut chairs,two Rembrandt prints, and a French prie-dieu with a purple velvetcover embroidered with green and gold swastikas. He has a purplesoul with gold tassels on it, himself, Sophy, and he should bewilling to pay a thumping price for it. That room is worth at leasttwo lectures and one best seller, not to mention what he'll get outof the rest of the house."
"First catch your hare," I reminded her skeptically.
"First set your trap, and you can reckon on hare nature to do therest. A few good photographs of this house, along with theinformation that it runs back to the beginning of things Americanand has never been exploited, will fetch him at a hand-gallop. Add ahint that we have our own brand of family spook, and you couldn'tkeep him away if you tried. The only trouble is that he may walk offwith your brass tongs up his trouser-leg, or a print or two tuckedunder his shirt."
We had decided that we would have a series of photographs of thehouse, with all particularly good points stressed; such as, say, thelibrary fireplace, the fan-light window at the end of the upperhall, the pillared front porch, and a corner of the drawing-room.
Also--and this was the great thing, calling for a heavy outlay--wewould advertise in some two or three of the ultra periodicals, theadvertisement to carry a stunning little cut of our front porch. Wedecided to run the risk of expending more money than we could reallyafford, because the people that advertisement was meant to attractwould in the long run pay for it.
"Our prices will be predacious, piratical, prohibitive, andprofitable. We shall stop just this side of highway robbery.Therefore our demands will be cheerfully, nay, willingly met; andeverybody, including you and me, Sophy, will be satisfied andhappy!"
"_Boarders!_" said I, limply, "_boarders_--in Hynds House!"
"Perish the thought! We have possibly the most interesting andbeautiful old house in America. It's one of the few really historichouses left in the whole South. It has seen the Indians, it has seenthe British, it has seen Sherman's men, and escaped them all. Well,then, we propose to allow certain of the elect, who can afford it,to come and live in Hynds House for a while. They will be willing topay a round sum for the privilege. That's all."
"Oh, is it, indeed! And will they?"
"Won't they, though!" Alicia spoke confidently. "Now draft me aletter to the Head, setting forth the many reasons why himself, hiswife, their car, and her Chow, can't afford to miss Hynds House ontheir trip South this season. You might explain that Mary Magdalenis our cook, and the Queen of Sheba our hand-maid. Also, please helpme decide in which of these magazines we had better advertisefirst."
"But the cost!" I wailed. "We have spent so sinfully much already!And the place is eating its head off, with nothing coming in. SinceI took down those bill-boards, actually the price of that LafayetteStreet lot has gone down. Nobody seems anxious to buy it any more."
"Change your mind about selling it; hint that you're considering anice-cream parlor and a movie theater," said the girl who'd been theworst file-clerk. "In the meantime, Sophy, you have sense enough tounderstand that we've spent so much money we've got to spend more toget some of it back.--I vote we start in this one, Sophy," and shelaid her finger upon the most expensive and ultra of all themagazines!
"But that is for _millionaires_!" said I, aghast.
"So is Hynds House," insisted Alicia, coolly. "How much did you saywas in the bank?"
I was afraid to hear my own voice mention that insignificant sum;for, when one considered Hynds House, the little we had wasbeggarly; so I wrote it down, and pushed the paper across to her.Instead of looking scared, Alicia Gaines looked delighted!
"All that?" And round chin on pink palm, she fell to studying mewith as much curiosity as if she had just met me and were puzzled toget at the real Me. Then she nodded, and snatching a sheet of paper,began to figure again, pausing every now and then to regard me withslitted eyes. At the end of ten strenuous minutes she pushed thepaper over to me, and watched me grow all but apoplectic as Istudied it. It was an entertaining list, beginning with a hat andending with silk stockings. With all sorts of wonderful things inbetween--for me, you understand. Things like "One brown frock, withsomething cloudy-yellow about it." ("Sophy, blondes can stand yellowwonderfully well; I suggest a bronze, instead of a duller brown.")
"Why, I have plenty of clothes!" I protested.
"Business-woman-of-a-certain-age, general-utility,will-stand-wear-and-tear clothes. Not a stitch of Hyndshouseyclothes among them. No _happy_, glad-I'm-alive-and-a woman clothes.Here's where you cease to look merely useful, respectable, andresponsible, and begin to look the Lady of the Castle. There's quiteas much philosophy and good morals in looking like a butterfly asthere is in resembling a caterpillar."
"_Why_ should I have more clothes?" I demanded.
"Because." And she added, with a fleeting smile, "And then catchyour hare."
"Alicia!" said I, scandalized. "Alicia Gaines, do you realize I amthirty-six years old?"
"You wouldn't be if you just had sense enough to forget to rememberit." This resentfully.
"No? Would you mind telling me how I might become such anaccomplished forgetter?"
"Why, there's nothing easier! When you really wish to forget toremember something, Sophy, all you have to do is to remember toforget it!" And then, with real earnestness: "Sophy, it's the betterpart of wisdom to look like the job you want to hold down. Your jobis holding down Hynds House. And we are up against things, Sophy,you and I. We have got to win out because it means--all this." Hereyes swept over the beautiful old room with an immense pride andaffection.
"We have just _got_ to keep Hynds House, if only to teach theseHyndsville women a lesson." She spoke after a pause. "Sophy, theyflatten their ears and arch their backs at sight of us; and wheneverthere's a good chance for a wipe of a paw, why, we catch it acrossthe nose. Now I," she admitted frankly, "
am naturally full of catfeelings myself. I will not do what _you_ want to do--walk offlooking aggrieved, after the fashion of Old Dog Tray. I will repayin kind, retaliate in true lady-cat manner. And these,"--she beganto smile--"these shall be our weapons of offense and defense. Itwill be a gorgeous struggle; however, my forebears came fromKilkenny!"
I laughed, but indeed I did not feel any too optimistic. Holdingdown Hynds House was no easy task, and the town was not disposed tomake it easier for us. While we had been busy renovating, while ourhands were so full of work that every minute was occupied, we hadn'tfelt our isolation. It was only when we had time to pause and lookaround us, that the stubborn, quiet hostility of the town's attitudeto the new owner of Hynds House was borne in upon us.
Not that anything overt was done by any one. Nor was there theslightest breach of politeness: they were as punctiliously politewhen chance brought us into contact with them, as well-bred folk areto strangers whose further acquaintance they have no desire tocultivate. The vestrymen of St. Polycarp's had expressed theirappreciation of Miss Smith's action in promptly dropping the suitagainst them; she was welcome to come and worship God in theirchurch, and to do her duty by the heathen. Such ladies as happenedto belong to the missionary society spoke to us pleasantly in thechurch vestibule. The minister and his wife were as sincerely,duteously courteous. But that was all. Not a house in Hyndsvilleopened its doors to us. They simply would not accept the interloperthat the malignity of the Scarlett Witch had put in possession ofthat which should have gone back to Richard's last heir, or failinghim, to Richard Geddes.
The fact that these two descendants of the Hyndses did not seem tosee and do their duty as members of that illustrious family, butshamelessly made friends with the aliens, did not raise us in thetown's estimation. Quite the contrary. Nor were they even faintlyangry with Mr. Jelnik and Doctor Geddes, who were, so to say,unsuspicious Israelites coaxed into the Canaanitish camp.
I admit that I considered Doctor Richard Geddes undiplomatic in hisbehavior. It never once occurred to that lordly gentleman, who hadhad his own way ever since he was born, that he should stop now toconsider the feelings or the prejudices of Hyndsville. It wasn'tthat he meant to champion _us_. It never occurred to him that weneeded championing. He simply liked us because he liked us. Wepleased him. That sufficed, so far as he was concerned.
I had begun really to like the doctor, myself. But I wished toheaven he weren't, at that critical time, so tactless. For instance,I have been peremptorily taken by an elbow and led willy-nilly tohis waiting car, on Lafayette Street, which is our principalthoroughfare, under the calm, appraising, watching eyes of allfeminine Hyndsville. Not one of whom would fail to remark, casually:
"Oh, _did_ you see that Miss Smith with Doctor Geddes this morning?Men are so unsuspicious, aren't they!"
I couldn't explain the situation to him, of course, any more than Icould explain to Mr. Nicholas Jelnik that _his_ presence in HyndsHouse, while pleasing to us, was disquieting and displeasing toothers.
It was to be expected that this handsome young man, who kept hisaffairs so strictly to himself that nobody knew anything about them,should arouse the avid curiosity and hold the breathless interest ofa little town where everybody had always known everybody else'sbusiness.
Why had he come to Hyndsville? To find the Hynds jewels, after acentury? Didn't he know that the Scarlett Witch had the eye of aneagle for the glitter of gold and would long since have discoveredwhatever of value had been in Hynds House? Why didn't he consultolder members of the community, who could furnish him withimmensely interesting side-lights on the Hyndses?
Mr. Jelnik never explained. He didn't ask anybody anything. Hedidn't even employ Hyndsville negroes, who could be expected togossip: his household consisted of a stately bronze-coloredman-servant who was reputed to be a pagan, and the huge wolf-hound,Boris, his constant companion.
When Doctor Geddes was delicately sounded, the big man explainedthat he himself had but recently made the acquaintance of his youngkinsman; Jelnik was a first-rate chap, declared the doctor;immensely clever, as befitted his father's son; altogether likeable,but a bit of a lunatic, like all the Hyndses.
It was natural, too, that the young ladies in a small town whereyoung men are at a premium should have noticed this one particularlyand expected a like interest on his part. The inexplicable Jelnikfailed to exhibit it. There was but one house that he visited, andthat was Hynds House.
Whatever his reasons for this may have been, and the town namedseveral, the fact remains that Hynds House would never have been sobeautiful, the restoration wouldn't have been so nearly perfect, hadit not been for the critical taste of Mr. Jelnik. He had theEuropean knowledge of beautiful things, and, toward the finer gracesof life, the attitude of Paris, of Rome, of Vienna, rather than ofNew York, of Chicago, or of, say, Atlanta.
There was a glamour about the man. Whatever he did or said had anindefinable, delightful significance; what he left undone was fullof meaning. His mere presence ornamented and colored common momentsso that they glowed, and remained in the memory with a rainbow lightupon them. He was never hurried or flurried, any more than sun andsky and trees and tides are; and he was just as vital, and quite asbaffling.
We accepted him at first as part of the fairy-story into whichDestiny had pitchforked us. He belonged to Hynds House, so to speak,and there one might meet him upon common ground. But sometimes whenI happened to glance up I would find him watching us with thosereflective eyes that were so full of light and at the same time soinscrutable. And then he would smile, his Dionysiac smile that madehim all at once so far off and so foreign that I knew, with asinking heart, that he didn't belong at all; that this beautiful andbrilliant bird of passage was lightening for but a very brief spacemy sober skies.
Alicia said he made her think of peacocks and ivory. He delightedand dazzled her, though he did not disquiet her as he did me,perhaps because she, too, was young and beautiful, and I--wasn't.
It will be seen, then, that our position, take it by and large,wasn't one that called for flags and buntings. Life didn't look abit rose-colored to me as I sat there that night, drafting a letterto the Head. Of a sudden arose clamor in the hall, and howls,hideously loud at that hour and in that quiet house. There came thenoise of running feet, and there burst into the lighted library,with gray faces and rolling eyes, our two lately acquired coloredmaids, Fernolia the thin one, and Queen of Sheba, fat and brown.
"Good heavens! What's the matter?" I asked, fearfully. It had been aterrible task to break in those two handmaids, to train them _not_to take part in the conversation at table, _not_ to take off cap,and hair, not to do the thousand and one undisciplined anddisorderly things they did do.
"Ghostes! Sperets! Ha'nts!" chattered the colored women. "Ol' Mis'Scarlett's walkin' in de ca'iage house!"
"Nonsense!" At the same time I felt myself turning pale, andgoose-flesh coming out on my spine.
"No, ma'am, Miss Sophy, 't ain't nonsense. It's ha'nts!" protestedFernolia. She was the brighter of the two, but given to embroideringher facts.
"Yessum, I done saw 'er," corroborated Queenasheeba. (That's how onepronounced her name.)
The two occupied a very pleasant room above the carriage house, aroom that had overcome their unwillingness to stay overnight atHynds House. Queenasheeba was just dozing, when she was awakened byFernolia, who had been sitting by the window. Both of them, peeringthrough the scrim curtains, saw a tall white figure disappear intothe spring-house. A few minutes later, to their horror, they heardSomething moving downstairs in the carriage house--Something likethe clank of a chain--footsteps--and then silence. Almost paralyzedwith terror, the two women clung together. _Anything_ might beexpected of ol' Mis' Scarlett! However, nothing further happened.With shaking hands Queenasheeba relighted the lamp. Then, snatchingup such clothes as they could grab, the two fled to us.
Mary Magdalen and Beautiful Dog always departed after dinner. Exceptfor the Black family and the two canaries, Alicia and
I had big,lonesome Hynds House to ourselves. Mr. Jelnik's gray cottage, setamid Lombardy poplars and thick shrubberies, was some distanceaway, and we didn't know whether Doctor Geddes was at home or not.It is true we had firearms, a pair of pistols having been literallyforced upon us by the doctor, who fretted and fumed about ourstaying there alone. Both of us were more afraid of those pistolsthan of any possible ghostly intruder.
Nevertheless, I went up-stairs and fetched them. Alicia took one asshe might have taken a rattlesnake, and I held the other. Armedthus, carrying torch-light and lantern, and with the two gray-faced,half-clad negro women following us, one carrying our brass poker andthe other the tongs, we marched upon the carriage house.
The big barnlike place, lately cleaned and whitewashed, lookedpainfully empty. In one of the stalls the hay purchased for ourrecently acquired Jersey cow gave off a pleasant odor. Over in onecorner, in a neat, clean, orderly array, were Schmetz's tools. Alittle farther on was our chicken feed, in covered barrels.
We went from empty stall to empty stall, to reassure the women;there wasn't so much as a cobweb in any of them. All the down-stairswindows were heavily barred with iron and further protected, likethe doors, with heavy oaken shutters studded with iron nail-heads.The two small rooms in the rear had once been used as a jail forrecalcitrant slaves; they held now nothing deadlier than Schmetz'sflower pots and seedlings. Every shutter was closed, and the ironbars looked reassuringly strong; also, the walls are three feetthick.
"You were dreaming, you silly women! I told you you were dreaming!"said I, and had turned to go, reassured and relieved, when Alicia'snose wrinkled. I could hardly keep from sniffing, myself.
In the carriage-house was a faint, indeterminable scent, the ghostof the ghost of fragrance, so elusive that one sensed rather thansmelled it, so pervasive and haunting that one could not miss it.And it certainly had nothing to do with the wholesome odor of hayand cow feed, or the smell of whitewash and oiled tools.
"Yes, you were dreaming." Alicia began to edge the colored womentoward the doors. "But as you've had a scare," she added pleasantly,"I'll give you a new lace collar, Queenasheeba, and you a redribbon, Fernolia, to wear to church next Sunday, just to prove toyou that being awake is heaps better than having nightmares."
We padlocked the big doors after us, and went through the roomsup-stairs. They, too, had been freshly cleaned and calcimined. Andthey, too, were quite empty.
Despite which, Fernolia and Queenasheeba were firmly, tearfully,shiveringly certain they had seen nothing less than ol' Mis'Scarlett's ha'nt. They had the worst possible opinion of ol' MissScarlett: she had been bad enough living--but as a spook! We had tolet them lug their bedding over and sleep in the room next to ours;we had to give them sweet lavender to quiet their nerves. I am surethey would have bolted incontinently if they hadn't been too scaredto venture outside.
"If I could catch that ghost I'd shake it!" declared Alicia. And wewent back to our figuring, with a sort of desperate courage. "_Now_will you get those clothes, Sophy Smith?" she resumed, through herteeth, and the pink came back to her cheek, and her eyes deepened."And do you agree to stick it out, you and I shoulder to shoulder,town or no town, ha'nts or no ha'nts; and win out?"
"Yes!" said I.