CHAPTER IV
TRANSPLANTED
Sometimes a plant in its own habitat Is overcrowded, starved, oppressed and daunted; A palely feeble thing; yet rises quickly, Growing in height and vigor, blooming thickly, When far transplanted.
The days between Vivian's decision and her departure were harder thanshe had foreseen. It took some courage to make the choice. Had shebeen alone, independent, quite free to change, the move would havebeen difficult enough; but to make her plan and hold to it in the faceof a disapproving town, and the definite opposition of her parents,was a heavy undertaking.
By habit she would have turned to Mrs. St. Cloud for advice; butbetween her and that lady now rose the vague image of a young boy,dead,--she could never feel the same to her again.
Dr. Bellair proved a tower of strength. "My dear girl," she would say toher, patiently, but with repressed intensity, "do remember that you are_not_ a child! You are twenty-five years old. You are a grown woman, andhave as much right to decide for yourself as a grown man. This isn'twicked--it is a wise move; a practical one. Do you want to grow up likethe rest of the useless single women in this little social cemetery?"
Her mother took it very hard. "I don't see how you can think ofleaving us. We're getting old now--and here's Grandma to take careof----"
"Huh!" said that lady, with such marked emphasis that Mrs. Lanehastily changed the phrase to "I mean to _be with_--you do like tohave Vivian with you, you can't deny that, Mother."
"But Mama," said the girl, "you are not old; you are only forty-three.I am sorry to leave you--I am really; but it isn't forever! I can comeback. And you don't really need me. Sarah runs the house exactly asyou like; you don't depend on me for a thing, and never did. As toGrandma!"--and she looked affectionately at the old lady--"she don'tneed me nor anybody else. She's independent if ever anybody was. Shewon't miss me a mite--will you Grandma?" Mrs. Pettigrew looked at herfor a moment, the corners of her mouth tucked in tightly. "No," shesaid, "I shan't miss you a mite!"
Vivian was a little grieved at the prompt acquiescence. She feltnearer to her grandmother in many ways than to either parent. "Well,I'll miss you!" said she, going to her and kissing her smooth palecheek, "I'll miss you awfully!"
Mr. Lane expressed his disapproval most thoroughly, and more thanonce; then retired into gloomy silence, alternated with violentdissuasion; but since a woman of twenty-five is certainly free tochoose her way of life, and there was no real objection to thischange, except that it _was_ a change, and therefore dreaded, hisopposition, though unpleasant, was not prohibitive. Vivian'sindependent fortune of $87.50, the savings of many years, made thestep possible, even without his assistance.
There were two weeks of exceeding disagreeableness in the household,but Vivian kept her temper and her determination under a rain of tears,a hail of criticism, and heavy wind of argument and exhortation. All herfriends and neighbors, and many who were neither, joined in the effortto dissuade her; but she stood firm as the martyrs of old.
Heredity plays strange tricks with us. Somewhere under the girl's dumbgentleness and patience lay a store of quiet strength from somePilgrim Father or Mother. Never before had she set her will againsther parents; conscience had always told her to submit. Now consciencetold her to rebel, and she did. She made her personal arrangements,said goodbye to her friends, declined to discuss with anyone, wassweet and quiet and kind at home, and finally appeared at theappointed hour on the platform of the little station.
Numbers of curious neighbors were there to see them off, all who knewthem and could spare the time seemed to be on hand. Vivian's mothercame, but her father did not.
At the last moment, just as the train drew in, Grandma appeared,serene and brisk, descending, with an impressive amount of handbaggage, from "the hack."
"Goodbye, Laura," she said. "I think these girls need a chaperon. I'mgoing too."
So blasting was the astonishment caused by this proclamation, and soshort a time remained to express it, that they presently foundthemselves gliding off in the big Pullman, all staring at one anotherin silent amazement.
"I hate discussion," said Mrs. Pettigrew.
* * * * *
None of these ladies were used to traveling, save Dr. Bellair, who hadmade the cross continent trip often enough to think nothing of it.
The unaccustomed travelers found much excitement in the journey. Aswomen, embarking on a new, and, in the eyes of their friends, highlydoubtful enterprise, they had emotion to spare; and to be confrontedat the outset by a totally unexpected grandmother was too much forimmediate comprehension.
She looked from one to the other, sparkling, triumphant.
"I made up my mind, same as you did, hearing Jane Bellair talk," sheexplained. "Sounded like good sense. I always wanted to travel, always,and never had the opportunity. This was a real good chance." Her mouthshut, tightened, widened, drew into a crinkly delighted smile.
They sat still staring at her.
"You needn't look at me like that! I guess it's a free country! Ibought my ticket--sent for it same as you did. And I didn't have toask _anybody_--I'm no daughter. My duty, as far as I know it, is_done_! This is a pleasure trip!"
She was triumph incarnate.
"And you never said a word!" This from Vivian.
"Not a word. Saved lots of trouble. Take care of me indeed! Lauraneedn't think I'm dependent on her _yet_!"
Vivian's heart rather yearned over her mother, thus doubly bereft.
"The truth is," her grandmother went on, "Samuel wants to go toFlorida the worst way; I heard 'em talking about it! He wasn't willingto go alone--not he! Wants somebody to hear him cough, I say! AndLaura couldn't go--'Mother was so dependent'--_Huh!_"
Vivian began to smile. She knew this had been talked over, and givenup on that account. She herself could have been easily disposed of,but Mrs. Lane chose to think her mother a lifelong charge.
"Act as if I was ninety!" the old lady burst forth again. "I'll show'em!"
"I think you're dead right, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Dr. Bellair. "Sixtyisn't anything. You ought to have twenty years of enjoyable life yet,before they call you 'old'--maybe more."
Mrs. Pettigrew cocked an eye at her. "My grandmother lived to be ahundred and four," said she, "and kept on working up to the last year.I don't know about enjoyin' life, but she was useful for pretty near asolid century. After she broke her hip the last time she sat still andsewed and knitted. After her eyes gave out she took to hooking rugs."
"I hope it will be forty years, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Sue, "and I'mreal glad you're coming. It'll make it more like home."
Miss Elder was a little slow in accommodating herself to this newaccession. She liked Mrs. Pettigrew very much--but--a grandmother thusairily at large seemed to unsettle the foundations of things. She waspolite, even cordial, but evidently found it difficult to accept thefacts.
"Besides," said Mrs. Pettigrew, "you may not get all those boarders atonce and I'll be one to count on. I stopped at the bank this morningand had 'em arrange for my account out in Carston. They were somesurprised, but there was no time to ask questions!" She relapsed intosilence and gazed with keen interest at the whirling landscape.
Throughout the journey she proved the best of travelers; was nevercar-sick, slept well in the joggling berth, enjoyed the food, andcontinually astonished them by producing from her handbag the mostdiverse and unlooked for conveniences. An old-fashioned traveller hadforgotten her watchkey--Grandma produced an automatic one warranted tofit anything. "Takes up mighty little room--and I thought maybe itwould come in handy," she said.
She had a small bottle of liquid court-plaster, and plenty of thesolid kind. She had a delectable lotion for the hands, a real treasureon the dusty journey; also a tiny corkscrew, a strong pair of"pinchers," sewing materials, playing cards, string, safety-pins,elastic bands, lime drops, stamped envelopes, smelling salts, troches,needles and thread.
"Did you bring a trunk, Grandma?" asked Vivian.
"Two," said Grandma, "excess baggage. All paid for and checked."
"How did you ever learn to arrange things so well?" Sue askedadmiringly.
"Read about it," the old lady answered. "There's no end of directionsnowadays. I've been studying up."
She was so gleeful and triumphant, so variously useful, so steadilygay and stimulating, that they all grew to value her presence longbefore they reached Carston; but they had no conception of theultimate effect of a resident grandmother in that new and bustlingtown.
To Vivian the journey was a daily and nightly revelation. She had readmuch but traveled very little, never at night. The spreading beauty ofthe land was to her a new stimulus; she watched by the hour theendless panorama fly past her window, its countless shades of green,the brown and red soil, the fleeting dashes of color where wildflowers gathered thickly. She was repeatedly impressed by seeingsuddenly beside her the name of some town which had only existed inher mind as "capital city" associated with "principal exports" and"bounded on the north."
At night, sleeping little, she would raise her curtain and look out,sideways, at the stars. Big shadowy trees ran by, steep cuttings roselike a wall of darkness, and the hilly curves of open country rose andfell against the sky line like a shaken carpet.
She faced the long, bright vistas of the car and studied people'sfaces--such different people from any she had seen before. A heavyyoung man with small, light eyes, sat near by, and cast frequentglances at both the girls, going by their seat at intervals. Vivianconsidered this distinctly rude, and Sue did not like his looks, so hegot nothing for his pains, yet even this added color to the day.
The strange, new sense of freedom grew in her heart, a feeling oflightness and hope and unfolding purpose.
There was continued discussion as to what the girls should do.
"We can be waitresses for Auntie till we get something else," Suepractically insisted. "The doctor says it will be hard to get goodservice and I'm sure the boarders would like us."
"You can both find work if you want it. What do you want to do,Vivian?" asked Dr. Bellair, not for the first time.
Vivian was still uncertain.
"I love children best," she said. "I could teach--but I haven't acertificate. I'd _love_ a kindergarten; I've studied that--at home."
"Shouldn't wonder if you could get up a kindergarten right off," thedoctor assured her. "Meantime, as this kitten says, you could helpMiss Elder out and turn an honest penny while you're waiting."
"Wouldn't it--interfere with my teaching later?" the girl inquired.
"Not a bit, not a bit. We're not so foolish out here. We'll fix you upall right in no time."
It was morning when they arrived at last and came out of the cindery,noisy crowded cars into the wide, clean, brilliant stillness of thehigh plateau. They drew deep breaths; the doctor squared her shoulderswith a glad, homecoming smile. Vivian lifted her head and faced thenew surroundings as an unknown world. Grandma gazed all ways, stillcheerful, and their baggage accrued about them as a rampart.
A big bearded man, carelessly dressed, whirled up in a dusty runabout,and stepped out smiling. He seized Dr. Bellair by both hands, andshook them warmly.
"Thought I'd catch you, Johnny," he said. "Glad to see you back. Ifyou've got the landlady, I've got the cook!"
"Here we are," said she. "Miss Orella Elder--Dr. Hale; Mrs.Pettigrew, Miss Susie Elder, Miss Lane--Dr. Richard Hale."
He bowed deeply to Mrs. Pettigrew, shook hands with Miss Orella, andaddressed himself to her, giving only a cold nod to the two girls, andquite turning away from them.
Susie, in quiet aside to Vivian, made unfavorable comment.
"This is your Western chivalry, is it?" she said. "Even Bainville doesbetter than that."
"I don't know why we should mind," Vivian answered. "It's Dr.Bellair's friend; he don't care anything about us."
But she was rather of Sue's opinion.
The big man took Dr. Bellair in his car, and they followed in astation carriage, eagerly observing their new surroundings, andsurprised, as most Easterners are, by the broad beauty of the streetsand the modern conveniences everywhere--electric cars, electriclights, telephones, soda fountains, where they had rather expected tofind tents and wigwams.
The house, when they were all safely within it, turned out to be "justlike a real house," as Sue said; and proved even more attractive thanthe doctor had described it. It was a big, rambling thing, at homethey would have called it a hotel, with its neat little sign, "TheCottonwoods," and Vivian finally concluded that it looked like aseaside boarding house, built for the purpose.
A broad piazza ran all across the front, the door opening into a bigsquare hall, a sort of general sitting-room; on either side were fourgood rooms, opening on a transverse passage. The long dining-room andkitchen were in the rear of the hall.
Dr. Bellair had two, her office fronting on the side street, with abedroom behind it. They gave Mrs. Pettigrew the front corner room onthat side and kept the one opening from the hall as their own parlor.In the opposite wing was Miss Elder's room next the hall, and thegirls in the outer back corner, while the two front ones on that sidewere kept for the most impressive and high-priced boarders.
Mrs. Pettigrew regarded her apartments with suspicion as being too"easy."
"I don't mind stairs," she said. "Dr. Bellair has to be next heroffice--but why do I have to be next Dr. Bellair?"
It was represented to her that she would be nearer to everything thatwent on and she agreed without more words.
Dr. Hale exhibited the house as if he owned it.
"The agent's out of town," he said, "and we don't need him anyway. Hesaid he'd do anything you wanted, in reason."
Dr. Bellair watched with keen interest the effect of her somewhat daringdescription, as Miss Orella stepped from room to room examiningeverything with a careful eye, with an expression of growinggeneralship. Sue fluttered about delightedly, discovering advantageseverywhere and making occasional disrespectful remarks to Vivian aboutDr. Hale's clothes.
"Looks as if he never saw a clothes brush!" she said. "A finger out onhis glove, a button off his coat. No need to tell us there's no womanin his house!"
"You can decide about your cook when you've tried her," he said toMiss Elder. "I engaged her for a week--on trial. She's in the kitchennow, and will have your dinner ready presently. I think you'll likeher, if----"
"Good boy!" said Dr. Bellair. "Sometimes you show as much sense as awoman--almost."
"What's the 'if'" asked Miss Orella, looking worried.
"Question of character," he answered. "She's about forty-five, with aboy of sixteen or so. He's not over bright, but a willing worker.She's a good woman--from one standpoint. She won't leave that boy norgive him up to strangers; but she has a past!"
"What is her present?" Dr. Bellair asked, "that's the main thing."
Dr. Hale clapped her approvingly on the shoulder, but lookeddoubtingly toward Miss Orella.
"And what's her future if somebody don't help her?" Vivian urged.
"Can she cook?" asked Grandma.
"Is she a safe person to have in the house?" inquired Dr. Bellairmeaningly.
"She can cook," he replied. "She's French, or of French parentage. Sheused to keep a little--place of entertainment. The food was excellent.She's been a patient of mine--off and on--for five years--and I shouldcall her perfectly safe."
Miss Orella still looked worried. "I'd like to help her and the boy, butwould it--look well? I don't want to be mean about it, but this is avery serious venture with us, Dr. Hale, and I have these girls with me."
"With you and Dr. Bellair and Mrs. Pettigrew the young ladies will bequite safe, Miss Elder. As to the woman's present character, she hassuffered two changes of heart, she's become a religious devotee--and aman-hater! And from a business point of view, I assure you that ifJeanne Jeaune is in your kitchen you'll never have a room empty."
&
nbsp; "Johnny Jones! queer name for a woman!" said Grandma. They repeated itto her carefully, but she only changed to "Jennie June," and adheredto one or the other, thereafter. "What's the boy's name?" she askedfurther.
"Theophile," Dr. Hale replied.
"Huh!" said she.
"Why don't she keep an eating-house still?" asked Dr. Bellair rathersuspiciously.
"That's what I like best about her," he answered. "She is trying tobreak altogether with her past. She wants to give up 'publiclife'--and private life won't have her."
They decided to try the experiment, and found it worked well.
There were two bedrooms over the kitchen where "Mrs. Jones" as Grandmagenerally called her, and her boy, could be quite comfortable and bythemselves; and although of a somewhat sour and unsociable aspect, andfiercely watchful lest anyone offend her son, this questionablecharacter proved an unquestionable advantage. With the boy's help, shecooked for the houseful, which grew to be a family of twenty-five. Healso wiped dishes, helped in the laundry work, cleaned and scrubbedand carried coal; and Miss Elder, seeing his steady usefulness,insisted on paying wages for him too. This unlooked for praise andgain won the mother's heart, and as she grew more at home with them,and he less timid, she encouraged him to do the heavier cleaning inthe rest of the house.
"Huh!" said Grandma. "I wish more sane and moral persons would worklike that!"
Vivian watched with amazement the swift filling of the house.
There was no trouble at all about boarders, except in discriminatingamong them. "Make them pay in advance, Rella," Dr. Bellair advised, "itdoesn't cost them any more, and it is a great convenience. 'Referencesexchanged,' of course. There are a good many here that I know--you canalways count on Mr. Dykeman and Fordham Grier, and John Unwin."
Before a month was over the place was full to its limits with what Suecalled "assorted boarders," the work ran smoothly and the business endof Miss Elder's venture seemed quite safe. They had the twenty Dr.Bellair prophesied, and except for her, Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss Peeder, ateacher of dancing and music; Mrs. Jocelyn, who was interested inmining, and Sarah Hart, who described herself as a "journalist," allwere men.
Fifteen men to eight women. Miss Elder sat at the head of her table,looked down it and across the other one, and marvelled continuously.Never in her New England life had she been with so many men--except inchurch--and they were more scattered. This houseful of heavy feet andbroad shoulders, these deep voices and loud laughs, the atmosphere ofinterchanging jests and tobacco smoke, was new to her. She hated thetobacco smoke, but that could not be helped. They did not smoke in herparlor, but the house was full of it none the less, in which constantpresence she began to reverse the Irishman's well known judgment ofwhiskey, allowing that while all tobacco was bad, some tobacco wasmuch worse than others.