CHAPTER XV
A RIDE IN MAY
At the breakfast table, the next morning, Grandma Maynard announced herintention of keeping her oldest grandchild with her as her own.
Marjorie's mother looked up with a frightened glance at this declaration,and she turned her face appealingly toward her husband. But when shesaw the twinkle in his eye, she knew at once there was not the slightestdanger of her losing her oldest daughter in this way.
But, apparently by way of a joke, Mr. Maynard saw fit to pretend toapprove of his mother's plan.
"Why, Mother," he said, "wouldn't that be fine! This big house needs ayoung person in it, and as we have four, we ought to be able to spareone. You'll have grand times, Midget, living here, won't you?"
If Marjorie had not been so overcome at the very thought of leaving herown family, she would have realized that her father was only joking; butshe had been so truly afraid that her grandmother's wishes might possiblybe granted that she couldn't realize her father's intent.
"Oh, Father!" she cried, with a perfect wail of woe; and then, jumpingfrom her seat at the table, she ran to her mother's side, and flungherself into her arms, where she gave way to one of her tumultuous cryingspells.
Poor little Marjorie was not greatly to blame. She had lain awake thenight before, fearing that this thing might happen, and so was in no moodto appreciate a jest on the subject.
Unwilling to have such a commotion at the breakfast table, Mrs. Maynardrose, and with her arm round the sobbing child, drew her away to anadjoining room, where she reassured her fears, and told her that herfather did not at all mean what he had said.
"Now, you see, Mother," Mr. Maynard went on, "how Midget feels about thematter. Well, my feelings are exactly the same, only I choose a differentmode of expression. I'm sorry the child is so upset because I jokinglyagreed to the plan, but she'll get over it in a few minutes, with hermother's help. And as you must know, Mother, we appreciate how fine itwould be for Marjorie to live here, and be the petted darling of you twodear people, but you must also know that it is just as much out of thequestion for us to give you one of our children as it would be to giveyou the whole four!"
"That's a gift I wouldn't care for," said Grandma Maynard, smiling at theother three; "but I have taken a great fancy to Marjorie, and I know Icould make her love me."
At this moment Marjorie and her mother returned, both with smiling, happyfaces. Marjorie heard her grandmother's last words, and running to her,she threw her arms around the old lady's neck.
"I do love you, Grandma," she cried, "but of course you must know that Icouldn't leave my own Maynards. Why, we're the 'votedest family you everdid see! We couldn't spare any one of each other! And, Grandma, when youwere a little girl twelve years old, you wouldn't have gone away fromyour father and mother to live, would you?"
"No, Marjorie, I don't suppose I would," admitted Grandma Maynard,patting the little girl's cheek; "but perhaps when you're older, dear,you may change your mind about this."
Marjorie looked thoughtful a moment, and then she said, "Grandma, I don'ttruly think I will, but if I _should_ I'll let you know."
"I hadn't an idea the child would come to live with us," said GrandpaMaynard, "but how's this for a suggestion? Let her come to visit us for atime every year. I believe she makes long visits to her othergrandmother."
Marjorie smiled involuntarily at the thought of the difference betweenthe homes of the two grandmothers, but she said nothing, knowing fromwhat her mother had told her that she would not be sent away from homeunless she chose.
"Oh, Midget doesn't visit Grandma Sherwood every year," said Marjorie'sfather. "She only goes there once in four years. So to even matters up,suppose we let Marjorie come here and make a little visit next winter,with the understanding that if she gets homesick, she's to be sent homeat once."
Everybody agreed to this, and though Marjorie felt a positive convictionthat she would get homesick about the second day, yet Grandma Maynardmade a silent resolve that she would make everything so attractive toMarjorie that the visit would be a long one.
So the matter was settled for the present, and if King and Kitty felt alittle chagrined at Grandma Maynard's preference for Marjorie's companyover their own, they said nothing about it.
* * * * *
That same afternoon, directly after luncheon, the Maynard family startedonce more on their automobile trip.
As the big car drew up in front of the house, the children saw it withjoy, but they did not express their feelings, as that would not be politeto their grandparents.
But they were secretly delighted to see the big car again, with Pompton,whom they had not seen since they had been in New York, in his seatwaiting for them.
Then good-byes were said, and Grandma affectionately reminded Marjoriethat she was to visit her in the winter, and then in a few moments themotor party was speeding away.
They were scarcely a block from the house before the children began toexpress their relief at being released from the uncongenial atmosphere oftheir grandparents' home.
"I do declare," said King. "It was just like being in jail!"
"Have you ever been in jail?" asked Kitty, who was nothing if notliteral.
"Well, no," returned her brother, "and I hope I never shall be after thisexperience. Grandpa and Grandma Maynard are the limit! If I had stayedthere another day, I should have run away!"
Mr. Maynard, who was sitting in front with Pompton, turned round to thechildren.
"My dear little Maynards," he said, "unless you want to hurt yourfather's feelings very badly indeed, you will stop this severe criticismof your grandparents. You must remember that they are my father andmother, and that I love them very dearly, and I want you to do the same.If their ways don't suit you, remember that children should not criticisetheir elders, and say nothing about them. If there is anything aboutthem that you do like, comment on that, but remain silent as to thethings that displeased you."
The Maynard children well knew that when their father talked seriouslylike this, it was intended as a grave reproof, and they always took itso.
"Father," said King, manfully, "I was wrong to speak as I did, and I'msorry, and I won't do it again. We didn't any of us like to be at GrandmaMaynard's, but I was the only one who spoke so disrespectfully. Midge andKitty were awfully nice about it."
"No, we weren't," confessed Kitty. "At least, I wasn't. Midget said lotsof times that we oughtn't to be disrespectful, but I guess I was. But,you see, Father, it was awfully hard to please those people."
"We didn't understand them," said Marjorie, thoughtfully. "When I triedto be good I got scolded, and when I cut up jinks they gave me a presentfor it! Who could know what to do in a house like that?"
Mr. Maynard smiled in spite of himself.
"I think you've struck it. Midget," he said. "Grandma and Grandpa Maynard_are_ a little inconsistent, and don't always know exactly what they dowant. But that is largely because they are not very young, and they livealone, and are all unused to the vagaries of children. But these factsare to be accepted, not criticised, and I want you to remember, once forall, that you're not to say anything further disrespectful or unkindabout your grandparents. And I think I know you well enough to know thatyou'll understand and obey these instructions without any more scoldingon my part."
"We will, Fathery," said Midget, pounding on his arm with her littlefists, by way of affectionate emphasis.
"Yes, we will!" agreed King, heartily. "And so now let's cut it out andhave a good time."
And have a good time they did. Swiftly traversing the upper part of NewYork City, they continued along delightful roads; sometimes passingthrough towns, sometimes getting views of the shining waters of LongIsland Sound, and sometimes travelling through the green, open country.
Partly because of the repression of the past few days, and partly becauseof the exhilaration of the fresh spring air and the fast speeding motor,the four young Maynards w
ere in a state of hilarity. They sang and theyshouted and they laughed, and often they would grab each other withaffectionate squeezes from sheer joy of living.
"I guess we couldn't let old Mopsy go out of this bunch!" exclaimed King,as with a clever agility he pulled off both Midget's hair-ribbons atonce.
This called for retaliation, and in a flash, Marjorie tweaked off hisnecktie.
Nobody knew exactly the particular fun in this performance, for it onlymeant an immediate readjustment of the same ribbons, but it was afrequent occurrence, and usually passed unnoticed.
"And old Mopsy couldn't stay away from this bunch, either," returnedMarjorie, in response to her brother's remark. "Why, if I just tried it,I'm sure it would kill me!"
"I'm sure so, too," agreed Kitty. "We just have to have each other allthe time, _we_ do! Oh, Mops, there are some marshmallows; mayn't we getsome, Mother?"
Sure enough, the big pink blooms showed on the marshmallow bushes, and ina minute the children had scrambled out to get some.
It was a muddy performance, for marshmallows have a way of growing invery swampy places, but the little Maynards didn't mind that, or atleast, they didn't stop to think whether they did or not. Splash andpaddle they went into the mud, but they succeeded in getting several ofthe beautiful flowers, and returned with them in triumph.
"Those are fine specimens," said Mr. Maynard, "but I can't possibly letthose six muddy shoes get into this car that Pompton keeps so beautifullyclean! Would you mind walking on to New Haven?"
The three looked at their shoes, and discovered that they were simplyloaded with mud. Even when wiped off on the grass, they presented a mostuntidy appearance.
But King came to his sisters' rescue.
"I'll tell you what," he said. "You girls take off your shoes as you getin, and I'll take off mine as I get in, and then I'll take somenewspaper, and polish them all up."
This really was a good idea, and King worked diligently away until he hadrubbed the muddy shoes into a fair state of civilization.
Mr. Maynard, as he often did, composed a song for the occasion, and afteronce hearing it, the children took up the strain and sang heartily:
"Old King ColeRubbed a muddy old sole And a muddy old sole rubbed he;For he polished each shoeOf his sisters two, And his own shoes, they made three!Hurray, hurroo, hurree! And his own shoes, they made three!"
Mr. Maynard's doggerel was always highly appreciated by the children, andthey sang the pleasing ditty over and over, while King rubbed away at theshoes in time to the chorus.
The sun was setting as they neared New Haven. The approach, along theshores of the beautiful harbor, was most picturesque, and both thechildren and their parents were impressed by the beauty of the scene. Thesetting sun turned the rippling water to gold, and the shipping loomedagainst the sky like a forest of bare tree-trunks.
"Oh," exclaimed Marjorie, clasping her hands, "isn't it lovely to gomotor-carring with your own dear family, and see such beautifullandscapes on the river?"
"Your expressions are a little mixed," said her father, laughing, "but Iquite agree with your sentiments. And, now, who is ready for a gooddinner?"
"I am," declared Kitty, promptly; and they all laughed, for Kitty wasalways the first in the dining-room.
The automobile stopped in front of a large hotel which overlooked theCollege Green. While Mr. Maynard was engaging rooms, Mrs. Maynard and thechildren lingered on the veranda. The beautiful trees of the City of Elmswaved high above their heads, and across the Green they could see thestately college buildings.
"Can we go over there?" asked King, who was interested, because he hoped,himself, some day to go to college.
"Not to-night," said his father, who had just rejoined the group;"to-morrow morning, King, we will all go through the college grounds andbuildings. But now we will go to our rooms and freshen up a bit, and thenwe must get some dinner for our poor, famishing Kitty."
Kitty laughed good-naturedly, for she was used to jokes about herappetite, and didn't mind them a bit.
They went upstairs to a pleasant suite of rooms, one of which was for theuse of Midge and Kitty.
"You must change your frocks for dinner," said Mrs. Maynard to the girls."The suitcases will be sent up, and you may put on your light challies."
So Marjorie and Kitty made their toilettes, stopping now and then forfrantic expressions of joy and delight at the fun they were having; andsoon, with ribbons freshly tied, and dainty house slippers, they wereready to go downstairs.