CHAPTER III
AIR CASTLES WITH FOUNDATIONS
Aunt Jane said Helen must stay home from church Sunday morning, and helpwith the dinner. Joe Northrup and two cousins were coming to visit. Inthe afternoon all the younger portion went to Sunday School, and thelittle leisure Helen had afterward was devoted to reading aloud theirlibrary books. And when she came down Monday morning, Aunt Jane said inher brisk, authoritative fashion:
"Now, Helen, you fly 'round and get at the washing. See if you can'tlearn something useful in vacation. A big girl like you ought to knowhow to do 'most everything. I washed when I had to stand up on a stoolto reach the washboard."
Considering that for the last two months Helen had helped with thewashing before school time, and had often run every step of the waybecause she was late, the request did not strike her as pertainingstrictly to vacation. She went about her work cheerily. Uncle Jason hadwhispered in her ear, "Don't you worry. I guess it will all come outright."
Then the clothes were folded down, and after clearing the dinner away,Helen began to iron. Aunt Jane dropped on the old lounge and took herforty winks, then changed her gown, put on a clean white apron, whichHelen knew was for company, and the thought added to her blitheness.Between three and four Mrs. Dayton drove up in the coupe with Mrs. VanDorn, who continued her journeying around. The Mulfords' front-yard wasrather pretty, with two borders of various flowers in bloom, and, as theyounger children had gone over to the woods, it was quiet and serene allabout. Helen glanced out of the side window, and gave thanks for thedecent appearance of the place.
The conversation seemed to be not altogether dispassionate. She heardAunt Jane raise her voice, and talk in her dogmatic manner. Oh! what ifshe couldn't go! She clasped her hot hands up to her face, and the ironstood there on the cloth and scorched, a thing Aunt Jane made a fussabout.
Truth to tell, Mrs. Mulford had two minds pulling her in oppositedirections. It would just spoil Helen to go. She would hate working inthe shop afterward. She would be planning all the time to get to theHigh School. She knew enough for ordinary girls. She would have to workfor her living, and she couldn't spend three years getting ready. Therewas a little feeling, also, that she didn't want Helen any nicer orfiner than her own girls. They had a father who could help them along.Helen hadn't. And if education shouldn't do more for her than it had forher father!
But there was the money, and any kind of work that made actual money wasa great thing in Mrs. Mulford's estimation. Nine or ten weeks.Twenty-seven or thirty dollars!
"You see, I'd counted on giving Helen a good training in housework thisvacation. When girls go to school they aint good for much that way. And'long in October she's going in the shop, and then she won't have muchchance to learn. An' I d' know as it'll be a good thing for her to spendher time readin' novels an' settin' 'round dreamin' and moonin'."
"She'll read a good deal beside novels. Mrs. Van Dorn is a veryintelligent woman, and keeps up to the times. She has all the magazines,and the fine weekly papers, and she knows more of what is going on inthe big world than most of the men. Then Helen would assist me in manythings. Oh! I would see that she'd learn something useful every day,"Mrs. Dayton declared, with a bright smile.
"Then she aint fixed up. She's outgrown most of her clothes, an' I'd'lotted on having her sew some. She can run the machine, and I don'tbelieve in girls who can't do any sewing. I'd be ashamed to bring up oneso helpless. Here's my Jenny making most of her weddin' things. We don'tcount on having a dressmaker till the last, to put on the finishingtouches."
"About the clothes," began Mrs. Dayton in a persuasive tone, "I have twoor three lawn dresses that would make over nicely for Helen. And youknow I did quite a bit of dressmaking through Mr. Dayton's long illness.And there's my machine. She would have some time to sew. Oh, you coulddepend on me not to let her waste her time."
Mrs. Dayton had certainly been a thrifty woman, if it was on higherlines than anything Mrs. Jason aspired to. She had money in the bank,beside getting her house clear.
Aunt Jane's arguments seemed over-ruled in such a pleasant yet decisivemanner that she began to feel out-generaled. Uncle Jason had saidyesterday, "You'd better let her go. If they wanted her in the shopright away you'd send her. So what's the difference!"
"There's a great deal of difference," she answered sharply, but shecouldn't quite explain it. For Helen the three dollars a week really wonthe day. Aunt Jane tried to stand out for the rest of the week, but Mrs.Dayton said she would come over on Wednesday, and she knew she could fixHelen up, without a bit of trouble.
"Don't let her fool away her money," said Aunt Jane. "You'd better keepit until the end of the month."
Mrs. Dayton nodded and rose. The carriage was coming slowly up the road.
Aunt Jane did not go out in the kitchen, but upstairs, and looked overHelen's wardrobe. A white frock, a cambric, blue, with white dots, and aseersucker, trimmed with bands of blue. Then, there was the stripedwhite skirt of Jenny's she meant to make over. They could do thatto-morrow. She could conjure some of it out before supper-time, and putin the shirts and collars, though at fourteen Helen ought to know how toiron them. She would forget all she had learned. It really wasn't thething to let her go.
Helen went on ironing. 'Reely's white frock fell to her share; indeed,it seemed as if 'most everything did to-day. She was hot and tired, and,oh! if she could not go!
"I don't see why those young ones don't come back. 'Reely hasn't a bitmore sense than Fan. She needs a good trouncing, and she'll get it, too.You leave off, Helen, and shell them beans; they ought to have been onhalf an hour ago. And lay the two slices of ham in cold water to drawout some of the salt; then the potatoes. I'll iron."
She did not ask, and Aunt Jane did not proffer her decision. Helenfeared it was adverse, then she recalled the fact that Aunt Jane alwaystold the unpleasant things at once. Ill tidings with her never lagged.So she took heart of hope again. Then there were raspberries to pick.And supper, and children scolded and threatened.
"Well?" said Uncle Jason inquiringly.
"She was here, but I haven't just made up my mind. She'll be hereWednesday."
"Whew!" ejaculated Uncle Jason.
She went down the garden path to meet Jenny, who took the shortest wayacross lots.
"I'm goin' to sleep on it," she said, after she had told Jenny.
"But you'll let her go! Why, it would be foolish!"
"I s'pose I shall. But I'll keep her on tenter hooks to-night. Rightdown to the bottom I don't approve of it. She'll be planning all summerto get to that High School. Three years is too much to throw away whenyou're dependent on other folks."
So Helen had to go to bed unsatisfied, for Uncle Jason wouldn't bewaylaid.
"I've cut you a frock out of that striped muslin of Jenny's," Aunt Janeannounced, the next morning. "Sew up the seams, and put in the hem, andthen I'll fix the waist."
Aunt Jane was "handy," as many country women have to be.
"You were mighty close about that business of Sat'day afternoon," AuntJane flung out when she could no longer contain herself. "I s'pose itdon't make much difference whether you go or not?"
"Oh, I should like to go." Helen's voice was unsteady. "But Mrs. Daytontold Uncle Jason to talk it over with you, and then she would come andsee you, and he said--that it would be as--as--and it seemed as if Ihadn't much to do with it until----"
"Well, I've decided to let you go and try. They may not like you. Richold women are generally queer and finicky, and don't keep one mindhardly a week at a time. So it's doubtful if you stay. Then it is a gooddeal like being a servant, and none of the Mulfords ever lived out, asfar as I've heard."
Helen colored. She had not thought of that aspect. Neither had sheconsidered that her dream might come to an untimely end.
"And it seems a shame to waste the whole summer when there's so much todo."
"But if they had wanted me in the shop you would have let me go,wouldn't you?" Helen said in a tone t
hat she tried hard to keep frombeing pert.
"That would have been different. A steady job for years, and gettinghigher wages all the time. I've told Jenny to engage the chance."
Years in a shop, doing one thing over and over! She recalled a sentenceshe had heard Mr. Warfield quote several times from an English writer,"But that one man should die ignorant who had a capacity for knowledge,this I call tragedy!" She was not very clear in her own mind as to whattragedy really was, but if one had a capacity for wider knowledge, wouldit not be tragedy to spend years doing what one loathed? She hated thesmells of the shoe shop, the common air that seemed to envelop everyone,the loud voices and boisterous laughs. And she wouldn't mind helpingsomeone for her board, and going to the High School. Why, she did agreat deal of work here, but it seemed nothing to Aunt Jane.
The frock was finished, and she washed it out, starched it, and wouldiron it to-morrow morning. Then there were stockings to mend, althoughthe two younger boys went barefoot around the farm. And she worked up tothe very moment the carriage turned up the bend in the road, when sheran and dressed herself while Aunt Jane packed the old valise. Thechildren stood around.
"Oh, Mis' Dayton, can't I come some day?" cried Fanny. "How long areyou going to keep Helen?"
"Till she gets tired and homesick," was the reply.
A smile crossed Helen's lips and stayed there, softening her facewonderfully.
They shouted out their good-bys, and asked their mother a dozenquestions, receiving about as many slaps in return. For the remainder ofthe day, Mrs. Jason was undeniably cross.
"That girl'll turn out just like her father," she said to Jenny. "Shehasn't a bit of gratitude."
"And I hope the old woman will be as queer as they make them," returnedJenny with a laugh.
In the few years of her life, Helen had never been visiting, to stayaway over night. This was like some of the stories she had read andenvied the heroine. There was a small alcove off Mrs. Dayton's room,with a curtain stretched across. For now the house was really full,except one guest chamber. There was a closet for her clothes just offthe end of the short hall, that led to the back stairs, which ran downto the kitchen, a spacious orderly kitchen, good enough to live inaltogether, Helen thought.
She helped to take the dishes out to Joanna, and begged to wipe them forher.
"If you're not heavy handed," said Joanna, a little doubtful.
"Or butter-fingered," laughed Helen. "That's what we say at home. Butthese dishes are so lovely that it is like--well it's like readingverses after some heavy prose."
"I'm not much on verses," replied Joanna, watching her new help warily.She did work with a dainty kind of touch.
Mrs. Dayton came, and stood looking at them with a humorous sort ofsmile.
"She knows how to wipe dishes," said Joanna, nodding approvingly.
"It is a good deal to suit Joanna. No doubt she will excuse you thistime from wiping pots and pans, and you may come out of doors with me."
The lawn--they called it that here at North Hope--presented apicturesque aspect. A party were playing croquet. Mrs. Disbrowe waswalking her twenty-months'-old little girl up and down the path. Mrs.Van Dorn sat in a wicker rocking chair that had a hood over the top toshield her from the air. Her silk gown flowed around gracefully, and herhands were a sparkle of rings.
"Oh, how sweet the air is," said Helen. "There's sweet-clover somewhere,and when the dew falls it is so delightful."
"They have it in the next-door lawn and the mower was run over it awhileago."
Helen drew long delicious breaths. No noisy children, and the softlaughs, the gay talk was like music to her. She walked across the porch.
"Mrs. Dayton said you were fond of reading aloud," began Mrs. Van Dorn."Your voice is nice and smooth."
"Your voice is like your father's, Helen! I had not remarked it before.Only it is a girl's voice," Mrs. Dayton commented.
"I am glad it suggests his," exclaimed Helen with a pleasurable thrill.
"Where is your father?" asked Mrs. Van Dorn.
"He is dead," said Mrs. Dayton. "Both father and mother are dead."
"I was an orphan, too," continued Mrs. Van Dorn. "And I had no nearrelatives. It is a sorrowful lot."
"Helen has had good friends, relatives."
"That's a comfort. I heard, we all did, that you were one of the bestspeakers at the closing of school. It was in the paper."
"Oh, was it?" Helen's eyes glowed with gratification.
"Yes. So Mrs. Dayton suggested you might be as good as some grown-upbody. That was Robert Browning's poem you recited."
"It is a splendid poem," cried Helen enthusiastically. "You can see itall; the squadron--what was left of it after the battle--and the 'briefand bitter debate,' and the order to blow up the vessels on the beach.And then Herve Riel, just a sailor, stepping out and making his daringproposal, and going 'safe through shoal and rock!' Oh, how the captainmust have stood breathless! And the English coming too late! I'm gladsomeone put it in stirring verse."
Helen paused with a scarlet face. She never talked this way to anyoneexcept Mr. Warfield.
"Yes," said Mrs. Van Dorn, "I have seen the man who wrote it, talkedwith him and his lovely wife, who wrote verses quite as beautiful. Ithink you like stirring poems," in a half inquiry.
"Yes, I do," she replied tremulously, and in her girlish enthusiasm shethought she could have fallen down at the feet of the man who wroteHerve Riel. She never had thought of his being an actual living man.
"And do you know Macaulay's 'Horatius'?"
"Oh, I don't know very much--only the poems in the reading books, and afew that Mr. Warfield had. I know most of Longfellow."
"The Center is rather behind the towns around, although it is the oldestpart; settled more than a hundred years ago. But it is largely farms.The railroad passed it by some fifteen years ago, and the stations haveimproved rapidly. Why, we have quite a library here, and the High Schoolfor more than a half the county," explained Mrs. Dayton.
"It's not as pretty as this Hope. And the range of hills to thenortheast--I suppose you call them mountains--and the river, add so muchto it."
Helen put her head down suddenly, and pressed her lips onthe jewelled hand.--_Page 55._]
"And we have only a little creek that empties into Piqua River, and apond in a low place, that we skate on in the winter," said Helenrather mirthfully. "I can't help wondering what the ocean is like, andthe great lakes, and Niagara Falls, and the Mississippi River with allits mouths emptying into the Gulf of Mexico. And the Amazon, and theAndes."
"And Europe, and the Alps, and the lovely lakes, and the Balkans, andthe Gulf of Arabia, and India, and the Himalayas, and Japan----"
"Oh, dear, what a grand world!" exclaimed Helen, when Mrs. Van Dornpaused. "I don't suppose anyone has ever seen it all," and her tone wasfreighted with regret.
"I have seen a good deal of it. I have been round the world, and livedin many foreign cities."
"Oh! oh!" Helen put her head down suddenly and pressed her lips on thejeweled hand. The unconscious and impulsive homage touched the oldheart.
"And people who have done wonderful things, who have painted pictures,and made beautiful statues, and built bridges and churches and palaces,"the girl assumed.
"Most of them were built before my time, hundreds of years ago. But Ihave been in a great many of them."
"And seen the Queen!"
"If you mean Queen Victoria, yes. And other queens as well. And theEmpress of the French when she had her beauty and her throne."
"Oh, dear!" sighed Helen with a long breath. And Aunt Jane had calledher a queer old woman; Aunt Jane, who had never even been to New York.
It was getting too dark to play croquet. Mrs. Disbrowe had gone in sometime ago with her baby in her arms, and somehow it had suggested theMadonna picture to Helen. The gentlemen smoked and talked. Then Mrs. VanDorn rose and bade them good-night, and pressed Helen's hand.
"I think I shall like your little g
irl very much," she said to Mrs.Dayton, in the hall. "She's modest and not at all dull."
Mrs. Van Dorn stepped off, as if she was still at middle life. She waswonderfully well preserved, but then, for almost forty years she hadtaken the best of care of herself. She wouldn't have admitted to anyonethat she was past eighty. Sometimes in her travels she had a maid, oftenwhen she was abroad she had both a maid and a man. For two years shehad been traveling about her own country, and seeing the changes.
Yet her life had not been set in rose leaves in her youth. She hadworked hard, had a lover who jilted her for a girl not half as prettybut rich. And when she was thirty-five, a rich old man married her, andgave her a lovely home; then, ten years afterward, left her a richwidow, and told her to have the best time she could. If she could onlyhave had one little girl! She thought she would adopt one, but the childwith the lovely face had some mean traits, and she provided for herelsewhere. She traveled, she met entertaining people; she liked refinedsociety; she acquired a good deal of knowledge with her pleasure.
But to grow old! And one had to some time. At ninety perhaps. What didNinon de l'Enclos do, and Madame Recamier? Plenty of fresh air, as muchexercise as she could stand, bathing and massage, cheerfulness, keepingin touch with the world of to-day, and once-in-a-while a long, quietrest, and early to bed as she was doing here. Ah! if one could be setback twenty years even, twenty real years, and have all that much longerto live!
The child's admiration had touched her. It was not for her diamonds andemeralds, for her Chantilly lace, nor for the fact that she had moneyenough to buy costly things. Helen Grant was ignorant of the value ofthese adornments. It was for the understanding of something finer andlarger, experiences garnered up, real knowledge. How odd in a littlecountry maiden! And this was sweeter than any of the ordinary flatteriesoffered her.
Helen thought her little bed delightful, and she was not sure but it wasall a dream. She was still more bewildered when she opened her eyes.Someone was gently stirring about. She sprang out on the floor.
"You needn't get up just yet," said Mrs. Dayton.
"Oh, I am used to it," with a bright smile. "And maybe I can help."
She did find many little things to do. It was so pleasant to be allowedto see them herself, and do them without ordering. Mrs. Dayton said"Will you do this or that," as if she _could_ decline, but she was veryglad to be of service.
Then the boarders sauntered in to breakfast, and that was done with.Helen dusted the parlor, she had swept the porch and the paved walkdown to the street before the boarders were up. Then she helped with thedishes.
"That girl knows how to work," and Joanna nodded approvingly.
"Perhaps you would like to go to market with me," suggested Mrs. Dayton."It would be well for you to learn your way about in case I wanted tosend you out of an errand."
"Oh! it would be splendid! But Mrs. Van Dorn----"
Mrs. Dayton laughed. "There comes Miss Gray, and the fussing will take agood hour. Though I think it pays, even at a dollar an hour."
Helen was silent from amazement.
"Oh, she has patients at three dollars an hour, real invalids. And shecould get more in the city. Joanna knows about the breakfast. Mrs. VanDorn is wise enough not to gorge her stomach with useless and injuriousfood. I never saw a person take better care of herself."
It was a very pleasant walk under maples and elms, with here and therean old-fashioned Lombardy poplar; lindens with their fringy tassels, andhorse-chestnuts with their dense, spreading leaves. There was but onereal market in Hope, but numerous smaller attempts. Mrs. Dayton gaveher orders for the day's provision.
"Now, we will go around the longest way," smilingly. "There's the HighSchool. It calls in quite a number of winter boarders, and sometimes thelarge boys prove very troublesome. And here is the Free Library, thoughthere is quite a tax to support it, and numerous contributions. There isa fine reference-room for the scholars. Education seems to be made easynow-a-days. Let us go in."
The lower floor was devoted to the library. A large room was shelvedaround in alcoves, reserved for some particular kind of books. History,biography, science, music, discoveries and travels, as well as novels.The reading-room was at one end, the reference department at the other.Just now it was very quiet, being rather dull times.
Up on the next floor was a fine auditorium for amusements and lectures.In the wings were small rooms used for lodge meetings and such purposes.Helen was very much interested. Oh, what a happy time! And yet she felta little conscience-smitten, as if she wasn't doing her whole duty.
The papers had come, and presently Mrs. Van Dorn took her accustomedseat. Mrs. Pratt was at the corner of the piazza doing needlework. MissLessing was sketching from nature. The younger girl was out hunting wildflowers.
Helen read the home news, then the foreign news. It seemed queer to knowwhat they were doing in London, and Paris, and Rome, that hitherto hadbeen merely places on the map to her. And then what financiers in NewYork were talking of, which really was an unknown language to her, butnot to Mrs. Van Dorn, who for years had held the key.
Perhaps the charm in Helen was her interest in what she was doing.Sometimes she made quite a fanciful thing of her work at home, thoughshe was not what you would call a romantic girl. And now most of thetime she was reading, she put life into her tones. Mrs. Van Dorn hadbeen here and there, and she wanted the descriptions of things to seemreal to her.
"You're a very good reader," she said approvingly. "You must not letanyone cultivate you on different lines with their elocutionary ideas,or you will be spoiled. Who taught you?"
"Mr. Warfield. He was principal of the school. I was in his class lastyear."
"He has some common sense. When you go to an opera you expect to hearranting and sighing, and sobbing, but sensible people do not talk thatway about the every-day things of life."
"I don't know what an opera is like," said Helen with a kind of brightmirthfulness at her own ignorance.
"I suppose not. Men and women singing the love, and sorrow, and woe, andtrials of other men and women, long ago dead, or perhaps never aliveanywhere but in the composer's brain. It is the exquisite singing thatthrills you. But you wouldn't want it for steady diet."
Miss Lessing spoke of two famous singers who had been in New York duringthe winter. And she had heard the Wagner Trilogy, which she thoughtmagnificent.
"Yes. I've heard it at Beyreuth." Mrs. Van Dorn nodded, as if it mightbe an ordinary entertainment.
"Oh, it has been my dream to go abroad some time," and Miss Lessingsighed.
And there was a girl in the world who loved her own folks quite as wellas a journey abroad. There was pure affection for you! Miss Lessingwould jump at the offer she had made Clara Gage.
They were summoned in to luncheon. Mr. Conway was the only man of theparty, not much of a talker, but the ladies loved to sit and talk overtheir morning's adventures, or their afternoon's intentions. Mrs. Daytonnever hurried them. They all considered it the most home-y place atwhich they had ever boarded.
Mrs. Van Dorn went off for her nap. So did several of the others. Mrs.Dayton took Helen up-stairs. She had exhumed two of her old lawns, andthought they could modernize them into summer frocks. They were veryfine and pretty, and Helen was delighted.
It was four o'clock when the coupe came, and Mrs. Van Dorn rang forHelen to come up to her room, and carry her shawl, and her dainty casewith the opera glass in it for far sights, and a bottle of lavendersalts. And then the driver helped them in, and away they started.
"One could almost envy that girl!" said Daisy Lessing. "I don't see whysome of us couldn't be as good company."
They paused at the Public Library.
"Will you go in, Helen, and ask for 'Lays of Ancient Rome,' Macaulay's,"said Mrs. Van Dorn. "I hope it won't be out."
Helen came back with the book, and sparkling eyes.