CHAPTER XXI. A SECOND MEETING
"Lenora, dearie, can you spare Jenny a spell! I want her to tote a basketof fresh eggs over to Poindexter Arms, and a few jars o' honey. Like asnot the poor sick missus will be glad of somethin' different and tasty.Don't let her pay for 'em, Jenny-gal. Tell her they're a welcome-homepresent from all of us. Tell her how we're hopin' the sea air'll bringback her strength soon, and that ol' Susan Warner will pay her respectsas soon as she's wanted. Jenny, dearie, can you recollect all that?"
The girl, who had been seated on the top step of the seaward verandashelling peas and reading to her best friend, had leaped up when her dearold grandmother had appeared. Laughingly she slipped an arm about her,when she finished speaking, and kissed both of her cheeks. Then shepeered into the faded blue eyes that were smiling at her so fondly as sheentreated, "Granny Sue, wouldn't it do as well if I left the basket atthe kitchen door and asked a maid to give the message?"
The old woman looked inquiringly into the flower-like face so close toher own. "Would you mind seein' the missus, if you was let to? I'dpowerful well like to hear the straight of how she is, and when she'dlike to have me pay my respects. You aren't skeered of her, are you,dearie?"
"Of course not, Granny Sue. Although I must confess I was terribly scaredof her when I was little. I thought she was an ogress. I do believe Iwill put in some of our field poppies to golden up the basket. Would shelike that, Granny, do you think? I gathered ever so many this morning."
"I reckon she'd be pleased, an' if I was you. I'd put on that freshyellow muslin. You look right smart in it."
Lenora was an interested listener. She had heard all about the proud,haughty woman who was owner of the farm, and mother of the disagreeableGwynette and of the nice Harold. She knew _he_ must be nice by the wayall three of the Warners spoke of him.
She now put in: "O, Jenny, do wear that adorable droopy hat with thebuttercup wreath. You look like a nymph of sunshine when you're all inyellow."
"Very well, I will! I live but to please." This was said gaily. "Beprepared now for a transformation scene: from an aproned sheller of peasto a nymph of sunshine."
In fewer minutes than seemed possible, Jenny again appeared, andspreading her fresh yellow muslin skirt, she made a minuet curtsy. Thenshe asked merrily, "Mistress Lenora, pray tell how a nymph of sunshineshould walk and what she should say when she calls upon the most Olympianperson she knows. Sort of a Juno."
"Just act natural, dearie," the proud grandmother had appeared with thebasket of eggs, poppies and honey in time to reply to this query, "and nonymphs, whatever they be, could be sweeter or more pleasin'." Then sheadded, "Your grandpa's got Dobbin all hitched an' waitin' for you.Good-bye, dearie! Harold'll be glad to have you kind to his ma. He sets astore by her."
It was the last remark that gave Jenny courage to ask if she might seeMrs. Poindexter-Jones, twenty minutes later, when she had driven aroundto the side door of the mansion-like stone house. Cecile looked doubtful."Ef eets to give the basket, the keetchen's the place for that."
Jenny smiled on Cecile, and the maid found herself staring in puzzledamazement. Who was this girl who looked like that other one who had justleft; looked like her and yet didn't, for she was far prettier and withsuch a kindly light in her smiling brown eyes. "Please tell Mrs.Poindexter-Jones that Susan Warner, on the farm, sent me over and wouldlike me to deliver a message myself if she wishes to see me."
There was nothing for Cecile to do but carry the message, and, to heramazement, Mrs. Poindexter-Jones looked pleased and requested that themaid show the girl at once to the pond-lily garden.
Almost shyly Jenny Warner went down the box-edged path. The elderly lady,not vain and proud as she had been in her younger days, lying back onsoft silken pillows, watched her coming.
How pretty the girl looked in her simple yellow muslin frock, with herwide drooping hat, buttercup wreathed, and on her arm a basket, goldenwith field poppies.
As she neared, Mrs. Poindexter-Jones felt a mist in her eyes, for thisgirl looked very like the other only there was such a sweet, lovingexpression in the responsive face, while Gwynette's habitual outlook onlife had made her proud, critical and cold. The woman impulsively heldout a hand. "Jenny Warner," she said as she lifted the mist-filled eyes,"won't you kiss me, dear?"
Instinctively Jenny knew that this invalid mother of Harold was in realneed of tenderness and love. Unhesitatingly she kissed her, then took theseat toward which Mrs. Poindexter-Jones motioned. The basket she placedon the table. "Grandmother wished me to bring you some of our strainedhoney and fresh eggs and to ask you when you would like her to come andpay her respects."
The woman smiled faintly. She seemed very very tired. Thoughtfully shereplied, "Tomorrow, at about this hour, if the day is as pleasant asthis. I will again be in the garden here. Tell Susan Warner I very muchwant to see her. I want to ask her a question." Then she closed her eyesand seemed to be resting. Jenny wondered if she ought to go, but at herfirst rustle the eyes were opened and the woman smiled at the girl."Jenny," she said, somewhat wistfully, "I want to ask your grandmother_how_ she brought you up."
The girl was puzzled. Why should Mrs. Poindexter-Jones care about thesimple home life of a family in her employ.
But, before she had time to wonder long, the invalid was changing thesubject. "Jenny, do you like to read aloud?" she asked.
There was sincere enthusiasm in the reply. "Oh, Mrs. Poindexter-Jones, Ilove to! I read aloud every day to my dear friend Lenora Gale, who isvisiting me. We are reading poetry just now, but I care a great deal forprose also. Books and nature are the two things for which I care most."
As she spoke Jenny glanced at the book lying on the small table where shehad placed her basket. Almost shyly she asked. "Were you reading thisbook before I came?"
"My nurse, Miss Dane, was reading it to me. She is a very kind, goodwoman, but her voice is rasping, and it is hard for me to listen. Mynerves are still far from normal and I was wishing that I had some younggirl to read to me." Jenny at once thought of Gwynette. Surely she wouldbe glad to read to her mother while she was ill. As though she had heardthe thought, the woman answered it, and her tone was sad. "My daughter,unfortunately, does not like to read aloud. She does not care forbooks--nor for nature--nor for----" the woman hesitated. She did not wantto criticize Gwynette before another, and so she turned and looked withalmost wistful inquiry at the girl. "Jenny Warner, may I engage yourservices to read to me one or two hours a day if your grandmother canspare you that long?"
Jenny's liquid brown eyes were aglow with pleasure. This was Harold'smother for whom she could do a real service. "Oh, may I read to you, Mrs.Poindexter-Jones? I would be so glad to do something--" she hesitated anda deeper rose color stole into her cheeks. She could not say for"Harold's mother." Mrs. Poindexter-Jones would not understand the depthof the girl's gratitude toward the boy who was making it possible for herdear old grandparents to remain on the farm. And the woman, gazing ather, found that just then she could not mention remuneration.
"Suppose you come to me day after tomorrow at ten." Miss Dane hadappeared to say that it was time for the invalid to go into the house.
"Is it noon so soon?" the woman inquired, then turning back toward thegirl who had risen, she added: "Seeing you has done me much good.Good-bye. Tell Susan Warner I want to see her tomorrow."
Jenny returned home, her heart singing. She was to have an opportunity tothank Harold, and she was glad.
When Jenny reached the farmhouse she found her family in the kitchen, andby the way they all stopped talking when she entered, she was sure thatsomething had happened during her absence which they had been discussing,nor was she wrong.
She looked from one interested face to another, then exclaimed: "You'rekeeping a secret from me. What is it, please tell!"
Lenora, who had been made comfortable with pillows in grandfather's easychair, drawn close to the stove, merrily replie
d: "The secret is in plainsight. You must hunt, though, and find it."
Jenny whirled to look at the table, already set with the supper things,but nothing unusual was there; then her glance traveled to the oldmahogany cupboard, where, behind glass doors, in tidy rows, the bestchina stood. There, leaning against a tumbler, was an envelope bearing aforeign stamp.
With a cry of joy Jenny leaped forward. Instinctively she seemed to knowthat it was the long watched-for letter from Etta Heldt, nor was shewrong.
With eager fingers the envelope was opened. A draft fluttered to thefloor. Jenny picked it up, then, after a glance at it, turned a glowingface toward the others.
"I knew it!" she cried joyfully. "I knew Etta Heldt was honest! This isevery penny that she owes us."
The handwriting was difficult to read and for a silent moment Jennystudied it, then brightly she exclaimed: "Oh, such wonderful news!" Thenshe read:
"Dear Friend:
"I would have written long ago, but my grandpa took sick and was like to die when I got here, and my grandma and I had to set up nights, turn about, and days I was so tired and busy. I didn't forget though. Poor grandpa died after a month, but I'm glad I got here first. He was more willing to go, being as I'd be here with grandma.
"Now I guess you're wondering where I got the money I'm sending you. I got it from Hans Heldt. He's sort of relation of mine, though not close, and he wanted me to marry him and I said no, not till I paid the money I owed. He said he'd give it to me and then we'd make it up working grandpa's farm together. So we got married and here's the money, and my grandma wishes to tell your grandma how thankful she is to her and you for sending me home to her. I guess that's all. Good-bye.
Your grateful friend,
Etta Heldt."
There were tears in Jenny's eyes as she looked up. "Oh, Grandma Sue," sheran across the room and clung to the dear old woman, "aren't you glad,glad, glad we brought so much happiness into three lives?" Later, whenthey were at supper, Jenny told about her visit to Poindexter Arms.
There was a sad foreboding in the hearts of the old couple that evening.Although they said little, each was wondering what the outcome of their"gal's" daily readings would be. "Whatever 'tis, 'twill like to be forthe best, I reckon," was Susan Warner's philosophic conclusion, and theold man's customary reply, "I cal'late yer right, Ma! Yo' be mos'allays."