CHAPTER XXIII
A MYSTERY SOLVED
Several hours later, Nathalie, Nita, Sheila, the three boys, and Mrs.Van Vorst were seated in that lady's sitting-room on the second floor ofthe Sunset Hill House, overlooking the roof of the front veranda.Nathalie was nervously tapping the floor with her foot, as, with aperplexed, uneasy expression in her eyes, she watched Mr. Grenoble, thesecret-service man, who had been employed to fathom the strange mysteryof the many jewelry thefts that had occurred at the hotel within thelast few weeks.
She had told her story, not only to the detective, but to the manager ofthe hotel, explaining how she had come to discover the man digging inthe woods the night that Sheila had wandered away. She had told also howthey had all dug under the rock, to find the pieces of missing jewelry,and how she and the boys had hid in the woods, and finally had seen theman again digging by the rock. She had verified her story in itsdetails, and, although sharply questioned by the detective and themanager, she had stoutly maintained that the man whom she had seen wasMr. Keating, known as the Count. But her intuition immediately revealedto her that they were not inclined to accept her theory as to theidentification of the thief.
The manager immediately protested that she _must be_ mistaken, that hisguest was too well known, his position too assured, to identify him inany way with the man at the rock. As the girl realized that her storywas doubted, a strange numbness seized her, and she had a paralyzingpremonition that not only would her well-founded suspicions provefutile, as well as her long, watchful hours, and her many efforts toclear Philip, but that possibly these things would increase thecircumstantial suspicions already directed towards him.
Seeing the apparent uselessness of further conversation the girl rose,oppressed by the dread that if she remained in that room a moment longershe would burst into tears. But no, _she would not give up_! She wouldgo somewhere and think it all over, to see if there was not some way ofascertaining who the man was. Perhaps she could go again to thewoods,--she would try and get behind that rock,--and make sure--
At this moment Sheila, who was standing with Jean by the window,watching the automobiles constantly coming and going in front of thehotel, uttered a sharp cry. As Nathalie turned towards the child as ifto still her, she heard her exclaim: "Oh, Jean, there's the funny 'phoneman! See, there he is! Don't you remember, he's the man who put theblack trumpet on top of his head when he was in the 'phone-box?" Sheilaalways called the receiver a "black trumpet."
Nathalie, aroused by the remark, mechanically allowed her glance tofollow the direction of the child's finger, as she pointed towards Mr.Keating, who was coming up the walk leading to the hotel. Unconsciouslyshe bent forward, and with alert eyes watched the man, for she had againseen that peculiar motion of the head that had identified him as the manwhom she had seen digging in the woods.
But Sheila's exclamation had been overheard by the detective, whostepped quickly to the child's side, crying: "What was that you said,little girl, about a funny 'phone man? Tell me about him."
The man's manner was so abrupt and commanding, that Sheila shrank backagainst Nathalie, and shyly hid her face. But the girl, startled also byMr. Grenoble's abruptness, with a quick glance at his face, cried, "Yes,Sheila, tell the gentleman what you saw." Oh, yes, she remembered nowthat the two children had told her about this "funny 'phone man" whomthey had seen at the hotel one day, but she had paid no attention totheir prattle at the time.
Sheila, with a quick upward glance into the girl's face, as if instantlydivining the seriousness of the situation, answered, "Why, that's theman I saw in the 'phone-box," again pointing towards the Count, who hadstopped to chat with a lady on the walk. "He put the black trumpet rightup on top of his head, like this,"--she imitated the man'smotion,--"when he was talking through the 'phone."
"Did you see him, too?" questioned the detective, turning towards Jean,his eyes suddenly illumined with an odd gleam. Jean nodded silently, andthen, seeing that further confirmation was needed, in his odd,hesitating English, repeated the same words, accompanied by the samemotion, as the little girl.
The detective nodded absently, still with that odd gleam in his eyes,and then walked hastily towards the door. As he reached it, as ifsuddenly remembering their former conversation, he turned towards theoccupants of the room and, with slow deliberation, said, "Well, ladies,I think our problem is still unsolved; however, I will look into thematter and let you know the result in a few days." With an abrupt nod hemotioned to the manager, whose kindly face was strangely perturbed, ashe quickly followed him from the room.
Nathalie and the children, a few mornings after the conference at theSunset Hill House, were standing in front of the big white Roslinwoodbarn watching Teddy and Billy, two little black pigs that were thedelight of Sheila's heart. But they were tantalizing joys, for as soonas they caught sight of their admirer, as they peered out of the bigbarn-door, with their bright, bead-like eyes, they would scurry away asquickly as their round, shiny black bodies would permit, greatly to thatyoung lady's disappointment.
As Sheila ran to gather a roadside nosegay, and the boys hurriedhomeward, for Philip had promised to teach them some new militarytactics in their soldier-drill at the Liberty Fort, Nathalie, beguiledby the calm stillness of the woods, sat down on the seat under the treeswhere the sign, "Hit the Trail," showed that was where the path startedthat led through Lovers' Lane.
The woods, aglow with the yellow and reds of the maples, were strangelystill that beautiful September morning, save for the occasional chirp ofsome belated songster, or the loud caw of a crow as he signaled to hismates, who were making a noisy clatter in some leafy retreat of thegreenwood.
To Nathalie, the crimson branches of the reddening maples, showingvividly bright from among the green leaves of the spruce, fir, oak, orbeech, softened with the glow from the silver poplars as they quiveredin the wind, seemed like red banners. As they swayed in undulatingmotion, to her they were flags, curling and beating the air for thatwhich is every man's right, liberty.
The girl felt a little depressed at the thought that the summer wasover, for the crumpled and autumn-hued leaves, as they fell from thetrees, or swept by on the wings of the wind in their dying splendor,seemed to be calling a sad and mournful farewell. Oh, how she would hateto leave these rocky heights that rose in such statuesque grandeurbefore her, the splendors of the sky with its glory of sunset, theforest gnomes in their crooked and gnarled ugliness, and the greenfields, now starred with the yellow beauty of our national flower, thegoldenrod!
What an odd summer it had been! So different from what she had expected.How she would miss her beautiful companions on her morning walks, theblue-hazed mountains! And yet she had made friends. Ah, there was thesoldier-boy. She wondered if he would write to her. Then there wasJanet. Well, she was never going to let her go out of her life, for shewas to visit them next winter.
Her eyes saddened as she thought of the Sweet-Pea ladies. Oh, how sorryshe would be to bid them good-by, for Miss Whipple seemed to growfrailer every day, and then what would become of poor Miss Mona? And herqueer little old friend in the red house? Well, she didn't suppose thatshe would ever see her again, for she said that she never wrote topeople. Yes, it was depressing to think that you had to meet people youliked, and then go away and just have to forget them, because theypassed out of your life.
And the kiddies? She hated to think of their going back to that slumlife again. She wondered if any of the country people up in themountains would like to take them to live with them, for, yes, Tony andDanny could learn to be very useful. But poor Jean--and Sheila! Then shewondered if her trying to make them Sons of Liberty would help them tobe good and honorable men. Sometimes it seemed as if she hadn'taccomplished much, and then again she could see how different they werefrom what they had been when they came to her. O dear! they _were_problems.
And Philip de Brie? Surely she had made a friend of him, at least he wasmore th
an a friend to Janet, who--the perverse thing!--was so carefulnot to let her know if she really cared for him or not. Perhaps it wason account of Cynthia, for she had overheard that young lady tellingJanet that Philip was an impostor, and that he had fooled her the way hehad Nathalie Page and her mother. The story of his being a Britishsoldier, and that story, too, about his grandmother, was all folderol.
And poor Janet had meekly made no reply to this tirade, but Nathalie, inimagination, saw the red mount into her cheeks, and knew how humiliatedshe felt. Well, he was better than that funny little Mr. Buddie anyway.She believed it was _just_ jealousy on Cynthia's part, for she herselfhad tried to be very nice to Philip, but somehow he didn't seem tounderstand her,--no sensible person could,--and although he had alwaysbeen very courteous to her, he had never made a friend of her.
Well, she had done her best to clear him of the horrible suspicion thathad lost him his pupils; but, alas, she seemed to have made the matterworse, or, at least, she had not done him any good, for when his cabinon the mountain had been burned one night, people had declared that hehad set it afire himself to destroy evidences of his guilt.
And then, when the manager of the hotel had the ground dug up, where sheand the children had discovered those pieces of jewelry, nothing hadbeen found. And Mr. Keating, alias the Count, had gone, called toChicago, he claimed, the very night before they dug up around therock,--the very night, too, that the cabin had been burned. No, Philiphad not been arrested, for certainly the evidence was not strong enoughto warrant such action. And then the detective had disappeared, althoughNathalie had a feeling at times that he was hanging around somewherenear the place, in disguise, perhaps, watching Philip.
And the people who had been so nice to Philip, now acted very queerlywhenever they saw him, and Philip, the poor fellow, had said nothing,although Nathalie was afraid that he suspected that something was wrong.Her mother had persuaded him to come down to Seven Pillars after theburning of the cabin, and although he had accepted their kindhospitality for the time being, he chafed under the favors showered uponhim, and showed that he was inwardly suffering to have to be placed insuch a position, for Janet said he resented charity. Yes, and ten dayshad passed, and Nathalie had not heard one word from the detective. Odear! the world was a queer place to live in, anyway.
Just after luncheon, as Nathalie and her mother sat knitting on theveranda, a loud "Honk! Honk!" announced the arrival of Nita, who, withher cheeks red with excitement, burst upon the group like a youngwhirlwind.
"Oh, Blue Robin," she cried, as she caught sight of Nathalie, "I havethe most wonderful news for you." And then, without waiting to bequestioned by her friend, who had risen to her feet in nervousexpectancy, she added excitedly, "Philip has been cleared!"
"Oh, Nita, how do you know?" cried Nathalie, her face turning white, asshe nervously clutched at her chair.
"The news came this morning from the detective, and the manager toldmother. He said Mr. Grenoble got his clew from Sheila. You just comeright here, little girl," broke off Nita abruptly, as she beckoned forSheila to come to her, "so I can kiss you for a blessed dear." Sheseized the somewhat astonished child and began to hug her with excitedexuberance.
"But who is the thief?" exclaimed Nathalie breathlessly. "Oh, do tellus!"
"The thief? Why, Mr. Keating, the Count, of course," laughed Nitagleefully; "and he was caught all through Sheila's crying out about thefunny 'phone man. When she spoke of the man in the booth placing thereceiver on his head when telephoning, it gave Mr. Grenoble a big clew.It seems that the detective-bureau had been on the lookout for some timefor a gentleman burglar who had the peculiar eccentricity of holding thereceiver on the top of his head, as Sheila stated. He was born withoutany folds to his ears,--no, that isn't the word; I guess it was ganglioncells. No, _that_ isn't right--Well, anyway he had something the matterwith his auditory nerve, so that his hearing was defective. By placingthe receiver on the top of his head, as he had very goodbone-conduction,--yes, that's right,--he could hear better.
"As soon as the detective heard what Sheila said he began to shadow ourfriend, the Count. He saw him do the same thing that Sheila told about,and _that_, with certain other clews, led to his arrest. He was not _theMr._ Keating from Chicago that he claimed to be, whom the managerasserted had spent a summer at the hotel two years ago. That gentlemandied this spring, and this 'count' fellow impersonated him, so as togain a social standing in the hotel.
"The manager now admits that at times he had been puzzled by certainchanges in Mr. Keating's appearance, but he attributed it to the factthat he was older, and was now clean-shaven, when two years ago he worea mustache. The detective thinks that the Count burned the cabin up inthe woods so as to deepen the suspicion already fostered in regard toPhilip."
"But he got away with the jewelry," exclaimed that young gentleman, who,with Janet, had just stepped up to the edge of the veranda, while Nitahad been talking.
"But he did not get far," rejoined Nita, "for when he walked into theNew York station a few days ago,--that was just a ruse, talking aboutbeing called to Chicago,--he simply walked into the net that thedetectives had spread for him, and he is now in jail."
"I saw that the detective doubted my story," remarked Nathalie, "and itmade me feel unpleasant. But, oh, I am so glad the thief has beencaught--and--"
"That Philip is cleared," interrupted that young man. "Yes, MissNathalie, you have added to the store of kind things that you have donefor me. But wait," Philip's eyes glowed, "some day,--well, perhaps I canrepay every one. And little Blue Robin," he continued, laughingly, "Iknew that I was the suspected one, although you were all so careful notto let anything slip out that would tell me, so as to save mysensitiveness, but as I was innocent I knew that things would clear upsomehow."
And then he and Janet returned to their seats under the trees, wherePhilip had been reading to her, while Nathalie, with a glad light in hereyes, continued to discuss the many details of the affair. As Nita roseto go she suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, there, I forgot to tell you that weare going home in a couple of days. Mother is anxious to get back to thecity."
"Oh, I shall miss you terribly," cried her friend, as she placed her armaffectionately around the little hunchback; "but then I presume we shallbe going soon ourselves. But, Nita," she added abruptly. "I came verynear forgetting to tell you that we have all handed our diaries to Mr.Banker, and I am so glad that irksome task is over, for I hated to haveto write in it every day. We are to meet Mr. Banker in the mystery-roomto-morrow afternoon. It all sounds very thrilling, doesn't it? We areall very curious to know what is hidden there."
"Oh, I am just dying to know, too," cried Nita. "Well, come over to teato-morrow, and then perhaps the mystery will be a mystery no longer."
"But have you selected the _valuable thing_?" asked the girl laughingly,after she assured her friend that she would surely accept herinvitation.
"Why, no, not as yet," returned Nathalie, "for I am swayed by two loves.But it is all nonsense anyway, so I don't think it will make muchdifference what any of us select. Cynthia will probably win the prize,as the kiddies say, for she has chosen a very valuable painting. Janethas selected a most curious thing,--a necklace. It came from China, andhas a series or chain of heads; they say every one is a likeness of someold mummified mandarin. When you touch a spring--Janet didn't know thisuntil mother showed it to her, for she saw this necklace years ago, whenMrs. Renwick brought it home with her from one of her Orientaltrips--each one of these mummified Chinamen sticks out his tongue."
"Well, good-by until to-morrow," cried Nita, and then she was in her carand a moment later went whizzing along the road towards Sugar Hillvillage.
Nathalie had just finished putting her boys through their morning drillthe following day, and seen them hurry away with Janet to do someweeding and hoeing for her in her garden, when she was joined by Philip.As he finished telling her a bit of war news,--she was industriouslytrying to finish a sweater for Dick,--his glance was arre
sted by thelittle Bible lying on the chair by her side, for Nathalie had continuedher Scripture readings to the children.
Picking the book up, he began to turn over its leaves carelessly, almostmechanically, as if his mind was occupied with some other matter, whensuddenly Nathalie heard a surprised exclamation, and looked up to seePhilip staring at the fly-leaf of the Bible, with an odd, curiousexpression on his face.
"Where did you get this Bible?" he asked hurriedly, turning towards thegirl.
"In one of the upper rooms of the house. I think it must have belongedto Mrs. Renwick's son, Philip. Why, your name is Philip, too," she criedsmilingly. "Why, I never thought of that before."
"Yes, my name is Philip, and this Bible belonged to my father--"
"Your father?" repeated the dazed girl. But before Philip could answerher, in a quick revelation she cried, "Why, is your name Renwick?"staring at him with wide-open eyes.
"Yes, Philip de Brie Renwick."
"And Mrs. Renwick, who used to live here?"
"Was my grandmother!"
CHAPTER XXIV
THE WINNER OF THE PRIZE
As Nathalie sat in dazed surprise upon hearing Philip's announcement, hewent on and told her of the early life of his father, of his going toEurope, of his marriage with Marie de Brie, a French girl, of his returnto America, and of his subsequent quarrel with his mother, who hadrefused to receive his wife, a story that the girl had already heard,but not in detail, from Mrs. Page.
When his father left his grandmother, Philip stated, he was in a mood ofmingled anger and humiliation, while his heart had been deeply searedwith disillusioned love. He could not realize that the mother who hadmade him her idol, the mother whom he adored, could, from mere motivesof false pride, wound him so deeply by refusing to receive the girl towhom he had given the affections of his young manhood.
On leaving his mother, Philip Renwick had remained at the hotel for atime, vainly hoping that she would attempt a reconciliation, but when noword came from her, he took his wife to a southern town, where, a fewmonths later, he, Philip the second, had been born. A couple of yearslater the young couple had returned to England, where they had liveduntil his father's death. Shortly after losing her husband, young Mrs.Renwick had returned to France, and had become the home-keeper for abachelor brother. On his death she was left a small annuity on thecondition that she retain her maiden name of de Brie; hence the reasonthat Philip had become known by his mother's maiden name.
"But did you know that it was _here_, at Seven Pillars, that yourgrandmother used to live?" asked Nathalie, as Philip finished.
"Yes, and that was why I felt that I could not refuse your mother's kindinvitation to spend a short time here as her guest, for the house had somany associations for me, for my father, as well as my grandmother, werevery fond of this old place up here in these mountains.
"The night you found me in the cabin, Miss Nathalie," resumed the youngman, "I had become tired of life, for it seemed as if there was nothingfor me to live for, for I hadn't enough ambition to try to better mycondition. I could only face the fact that mother was gone, that I hadnot a cent in the world, as my mother's annuity ceased with her life,and my soldier's pension was only a few dollars a week. I realized thatI would probably lose my arm, for I knew that it should have a surgeon'scare and I had no money to pay one. And it is right here, Miss Nathalie,that I want you to understand my deep appreciation of, and my heartythanks for, what you have done for me; also the kindness of Miss Janet,"a sudden light flamed in the young man's eyes, "and the thoughtfulnessof your mother, and your friends, Mrs. Van Vorst and Miss Nita.
"The companionship of you all, even of the kiddies, your Liberty boys,has put new life into me. I did become a little discouraged, it is true,when I began to lose my French pupils, and surmised the reason, fromvarious hints that were dropped by some of the people, who were thevictims of the thief, for it is not an enlivening thought to fear thatyour _only_ and very best friends might grow to think you a rascal.
"But you all proved so true to me, especially _you_, little Blue Robin,I call you that name, as the bluebird is a bird of cheer, and certainlyyou have inspired me with the ambition for a new career-to-be, as youhave proved yourself such a loyal little comrade in my time of need.Remember, Nathalie, I shall never forget you, or what you have done forme."
Nathalie, her face a wave of color from the unexpected warmth ofPhilip's praise, in hasty confusion, as if to change the subject toanother one than herself, cried, "But why did you not go, when you werein Boston, to Mrs. Renwick's trustees, and make yourself known to them?For, if you are her grandson, you are entitled to some of her money."
"For two reasons," replied Philip slowly. "One was that, in my hastydeparture from England it slipped my mind to bring my credentials withme. And then, again,--perhaps my grandmother's pride has descended tome,--I felt that if she did not love my father,--she had let him go soeasily,--that I could have pride, too, and did not care to accept hermoney. If I could have met her when alive, and had learned that she didhave some love for my father, why, then I would have revealed myself toher, and naturally would have felt differently in regard to acceptingher money. But I have one thing by which I could have proved my identityto her if she had been still alive. See, it is this little ring. Shegave it to my father, who always wore it, as I have done, ever since itcame into my possession."
Philip took from one of his little fingers an odd, peculiar-looking sealring. After showing his father's and his grandmother's initials and thedate of its presentation, he touched a tiny spring back of the stone,and Nathalie saw a miniature picture of Mrs. Renwick. She knew itimmediately from its resemblance to several pictures of her that werescattered about the house.
At this moment there was a loud wail from Sheila, who, in pickingflowers in the meadow where Sam was mowing, had been injured by themower. It was some time before her cries were stilled, and her woundproperly bandaged, so that, for the time being, the wonderful news thatPhilip had told was forgotten.
When it finally came to mind, Nathalie was tempted to run and claim himas her cousin, to tell him about Mrs. Renwick's peculiar letter, andwhat was expected to take place there that afternoon. But after somethought she wisely concluded to remain silent until after she had talkedwith Mr. Banker and her mother. Not but that she had faith in Philip'sstory, but because it seemed the most prudent thing to do.
These thoughts were hasty ones, for the girl had suddenly rememberedthat she had not selected the valuable thing as yet, and that it wasalmost four o'clock, the hour of Mr. Banker's arrival. She had partlydecided to select a set of rubies,--a necklace and pair ofbracelets,--and then a Russian curio had made its appeal, but somehowshe bordered upon a state of indecision that was becoming intolerable.
As she turned to enter the house, her eyes fell on the little Biblethat, in her hasty rush to Sheila, when she appeared with her bleedingfoot, she had left lying on the chair under the trees. She ran hastilyacross the lawn and picked it up. As she did so, the book flew open andher attention was arrested by the name, _Philip Renwick_, on thefly-leaf, and its connection with what Philip had just told her. Andthen, she stood a minute, pondering. Why had not she thought of thatbefore? and then, with a dimpling face, she closed the book and hurriedback to the veranda, almost knocking down Tony, who stood wistfullyregarding her.
"Pleass, scusa, Mees Natta, haf you gotta da theeng for depreez?--Mister Banka, hees com' bimeby to looka for eet." Tony's big,velvety eyes were mutely pleading as he looked up at Nathalie.
The girl laughingly mimicked the boy as she patted him on the head,understanding that he was worried because she had not selected the thingthat the children were so anxious should "win the prize," as they calledit, for her. Then her eyes sobered, and, drawing the little lad to her,she showed him the Bible she held in her hand, explaining that she hadselected it, as it told about Christ the Savior, and contained God'swonderful message to His people,
telling them how to love Him and begood. "Yes, Tony," she added solemnly, "the Bible is the most preciousthing to everybody in the world. And then, as _this_ little Bible usedto belong to Mrs. Renwick's only son, I am sure that it would be themost valuable thing to her, so I am going to select it."
As the girl saw the child's eyes light up, as if he comprehended whatshe meant, she laid the Bible on a chair and ran hastily up to her roomto hunt for some white paper and blue ribbon. In a moment or so she wasback, wrapping up the book, and then, to Tony's infinite delight, sheslipped her card under the blue ribbon and gave the book to him, toplace at the door of the mystery-room with the other packages.
Some time later, Nathalie, in company with her mother, Janet, Cynthia,and Mr. Banker, entered the mystery-room, no one perceiving as theyentered that the children had slyly followed them, and were staringabout with wondering, curious eyes. Ah, so this was the room they hadall been so curious about; and Nathalie smiled as she saw that it was ahomey, cozy room, suggestive of feminine tastes and occupations, but,after all, it was just nothing but Mrs. Renwick's sitting-room, the roomwhere she had sewed, read, and wrote her letters.
The low book-cases lining the wall, the hardwood floor with its costlyPersian rug, the open fireplace set with fagots ready to light on a coolmorning, the desk in one corner, with the Victrola near, and the antiquefurniture, all of solid mahogany, certainly did not savor of a mysteryor anything uncanny. In fact, the little table in the center of theroom, with its shaded lamp, books, and magazines, and the little uprightwork-basket near, rather intimated that the owner of the room had justleft it for a moment or so.
But Mr. Banker was speaking. He stood by the little center-table onwhich lay the three valuable things. He held up Cynthia's selection ashe said: "I have here a picture, a most valuable painting, as it is aVan Dyke. It has been selected by Miss Cynthia Loretto Stillwell, as Isee by the name on the card. This little box bears the name of MissJanet Page, and is a curio from China. And here is a Bible," thegentleman's voice deepened as he held up Nathalie's selection. Thegirl's heart, notwithstanding her indifference to the outcome of theselection, was beating against her side in a very annoying way.
"It is a curious selection," continued Mr. Banker, "and--oh, what isthis?" as something round and glittering fell from the book. "A goldcoin," he commented with some surprise; "yes, a Roman coin, for it bearsthe head of Caesar, and I should imagine he turned the coin over as itlay in his palm, that it was of considerable value, as, from what I candecipher between the obliterations, it has a very ancient date. But I donot understand," he glanced inquiringly, "which is the article that hasbeen selected as the valuable thing, the coin or the Bible? The card onthe letter bears the name of Nathalie Page," turning as he spoke, andlooking at the girl, who was staring at him, with mystified, bewilderedeye, "A coin!" she finally managed to gasp. "Why, I didn't see--"
"Pleass 'scusa. Mister Banka," cried Tony's soft, musical voice at thispoint, "da coin eet belona to Mees Natta,--she fina eet wan day een abox." The liquid black eyes of the boy were brilliant with a strangeglow of joy.
"Oh, no, Tonio, the coin is not Miss Natta's," cried Nathalie, a suddenlight breaking in upon her bewilderment. "It is your coin. Don't youremember, I found it in the mustard-box the day you were ill? But it isyours, Tony; you placed it there for Miss Natta to find." The girl,strangely amused, smiled down at the lad.
"You bet my life, Mees Natta, Tonio, no, hees neva hada coin. Eet verraold, da coin, eet com' f'om a beeg keeng wat liva een da Roma lan'. Eesbelonga to Mees Natta," the boy ended persistently.
"Oh, Tony, you are in the wrong," pleaded the girl, suddenly feelingthat she wanted to cry, as she saw that the child was determined topersist in his untruth. "_You know_ it is _your coin_, for Danny foundit one day for you when it had dropped from your embroidered vest.Didn't you, Danny?"
And Danny, with a troubled look in his blue eyes,--he, too, wanted MissNatta to have that prize,--mutely nodded in confirmation of her word.But Tony, with a sudden tightening of his red lips, again protested in asullen tone, "No, eet ees no Tonio's coin. Eet belona to Mees Natta."
"Oh, Tony," exclaimed the girl, as the tears swelled up into her eyes,"you hurt 'Mees Natta.' 'Mees Natta' rather not have the prize than haveTonio tell what is not so."
Tony's eyes fell, as he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, andthen, glancing up, still with that stubborn look on his face, and seeingthe tears in the girl's eyes, he dropped his face into the curve of hisarm. Not a sound came from him, but the long, convulsive shivers of theslim little body told that the lad was crying.
Nathalie turned towards Mr. Banker, distress depicted on her face, asshe cried, "Oh, Mr. Banker, I am so sorry, but _I_ selected the Bible."
Mr. Banker hesitated a moment, and then his sharp eyes softened, as hesaw the mute anguish of the little Italian lad and realized his keendisappointment, for he had often commented upon the boy's affection forthe girl. Stepping to his side, he patted him on the head, as he saidcheerily: "Never mind, son; don't cry. Who knows, perhaps 'Mees Natta'may win the prize, as you call it, even without the coin. Here, lad,take what belongs to you, and mind you," he added in a sterner tone,"never again be tempted to tell an untruth, even for 'Mees Natta.'" Withanother pat on the bowed head he stepped back beside the table, where hehad been standing.
"I have gone over these diaries," said the gentleman, as he picked upone of the three books that lay on the table, "and I find that MissCynthia Loretto Stillwell has not passed a day in this house, within thelast two months in which she has not searched for the valuable thing.Certainly her diligence should be rewarded," ended the gentleman, as hebowed ceremoniously to that lady, whose eyes radiated with triumphantjoy.
"Miss Janet, I find," his eyes gleamed pleasantly at that winsome youngwoman, "has been somewhat of a delinquent at times, for there areseveral entries missing in her diary. But as its reading shows that herheart is a kindly one, as shown by her careful nursing of the youngBritish soldier, I certainly think that she should be well favored.
"Miss Nathalie, I am afraid, has not done her duty as faithfully as shemight have, in looking for the valuable thing"; he spoke somewhatseverely as he peered over his glasses at the girl, whose cheeksflushed, their red deepening, as she caught a gleam of satisfactionemanating from Cynthia's eyes.
"But her negligence has been more than compensated for,"--there was aqueer note in the gentleman's voice, "as this record of two months is sofilled with kind acts for others, that-- Well, ladies, possibly you havebegun to sense that it is not the finding of the valuable thing that isto win out, but the acts it typifies. Each day has been conscientiouslynoted in Miss Nathalie's diary, and almost every day bears a record ofsome good work done for others. I think--well--I am inclined to believethat the young lady--"
Mr. Banker paused abruptly, for at this moment a loud knocking soundedon the door. Cynthia, who was standing near it, with a frown on herface, stepped impatiently forward, and with a hasty movement threw itopen.
On the threshold stood Mrs. Carney, who, the next moment, with her sharpgray eyes peering defiantly out from under the queer poke-bonnet, whilethe basket on her arm stuck out aggressively, brushed quickly pastCynthia and into the room. But that lady, with two red spots on hercheeks, seized her by the arm, crying, "You can't come in here now; wehave company," turning the old lady, as she spoke, and roughly shovingher towards the door.
"Oh, Cynthia, don't be rude to Mrs. Carney!" pleaded distressedNathalie, as she sprang to the side of her queer little friend. "How areyou, Mrs. Carney?" she asked gently, smiling at the face under thebonnet. "We are very glad to see you. You don't mind Mrs. Carney joiningus, do you?" continued the girl, looking at Mr. Banker. "If you do," sheadded quickly, "and will excuse me, I will go down-stairs with her, sowe can have a little chat."
"No, Miss Nathalie, we do not mind Mrs. Carney joining us; in fact,"again that queer little note in Mr. Banker's voice, "I was just about toask you to go and bring her he
re." He advanced as he spoke and cordiallyshook the hand of the old lady, who pressed his warmly, but saidnothing.
"Ah, here is your favorite seat," continued the gentleman; "perhaps youwould like to sit down in it. But I forgot, ladies; perhaps you have notmet Mrs. John Renwick," he had turned towards the occupants of the roomsmilingly, "the lady who has allowed you the privilege of summering inher house for the last two months, your neighbor of the little redhouse. As you see, Mrs. Renwick is alive, and I will ask her to takecharge of her own letter of instruction, and see that the reward isgiven to the right one--and--"
The gentleman paused, for Mrs. Page, with a glad light in her eyes, wasalready at the lady's side, crying, "Oh, sister Mary, it was kind of youto take this way of giving us such a lovely summer. And I am so gladthat you are alive and well." She kissed Mrs. Renwick with warmcordiality. "Do you know," she continued smilingly, "I was rathersuspicious that you were up to one of your--"
"Eccentricities," interrupted the old lady pleasantly, with an oddtwinkle in her eyes. "Well, I was anxious to know these young ladies.Yes, I guess I know them now, one of them at least." She glancedwrathfully at Cynthia, who stood with down-cast eyes, her face ascrimson as a poppy, and her heart in a strange tumult of amazement,anger, and regret.
But Nathalie, in her quick, impulsive way, had thrown her arms aroundMrs. Renwick's neck and was giving her a good hug, as she cried, "Oh! mydear little lady of the red house, I am so glad you are Aunt Mary, fornow you will _have to be my friend_, and answer my letters whether youwant to or not."
The old lady's gray eyes softened, as she bent forward and kissed thegirl softly on each cheek as she answered gently, "Nathalie, you arejust like your father,--he was my favorite brother,--but it is foryourself, child," she added gravely, "that I have learned to love you.But who has won the prize?" she inquired abruptly, smiling down at thechildren who were staring at her uncomprehendingly, recognizing her asthe inmate of the red house, who seemed to have suddenly assumed a newcharacter.
"Come over here and look them over,--I mean the valuable things,"advised Mr. Banker, at this moment, as he led Mrs. Renwick to the table,"for the diaries you saw last night." And then he pointed out in quicksuccession the three articles of value that were grouped on the table.
Mrs. Renwick glanced carelessly at the picture. "Yes, it is mostvaluable," she assented quietly, "a Van Dyke. And so is this"; shefingered Janet's choice. "But what is this?" she added suddenly, as hereyes fell on the little Bible that lay at her elbow.
"This is Philip's Bible," said the gentleman, "and it was selected byMiss Nathalie--"
"Why, Nathalie, my child, did you select my dear son's Bible?" AsNathalie mutely assented, Mrs. Renwick motioned for her to come and tellher why she had made this choice. With some embarrassment the girl gaveher reasons. As she finished, her aunt said: "Yes, my dear child, thereis nothing in the house I value as highly as Philip's Bible. Nathalie,you have won the prize, and you deserve it, my dear, for you have notonly selected the most valuable thing, but you have learned what is themost valuable thing in life." The old lady drew Nathalie close to her,as she again kissed her on both of her flushed cheeks.
But Nathalie drew quickly away, for a sudden thought had come to her."Oh, wait a moment!" she exclaimed hurriedly. "I'll be back presently,"and then, without waiting to be excused, she flew from the room.
"Oh, Philip!" screamed the girl a moment or so later, as she rushed upto her friend, who was reading in the hammock, "I want you to come withme--quick! Oh--I--" she paused as if at a loss to explain, and thenadded hurriedly, "Oh, do come! I have something to show you!"
Philip looked up at the girl in surprise, but, instantly perceiving fromher bright, shining eyes, that she was more than usually excited, hejumped from the hammock crying, "All right, Blue Robin, you look veryhappy, so I suppose it is something very good to see, or good to eat."
"Oh, it is Philip, my son!"--_Page 377._]
Two minutes later the girl had pushed open the door of the mystery-room,and was trying to pull Philip in with her, but that gentleman, on seeingthat strangers were present, had stepped back.
"No, no, you _must come in_," cried the girl in happy excitement. Theyoung man, seeing the determination on his companion's face, somewhatpuzzled, silently followed her into the room. And then Nathalie swirledhim about so that he faced Mr. Banker, crying, "Mr. Banker, this isPhilip de Brie Renwick!" And then, without waiting for that gentleman toacknowledge the introduction, she took Philip's hand and led him towardsMrs. Renwick, who, as she saw the young man approaching, tremblinglyarose, and, with clasped hands, cried, "Oh, it is Philip, my son!"
"No it is not Philip, your son," quickly answered the young man, who hadinstantly divined who the old lady was, "but Philip's son, yourgrandson, Philip de Brie Renwick."
The next moment Philip was holding the old lady in his arms, while hequietly tried to soothe her sobs, as she wept in happy joy on hisbreast. As her sobs subsided somewhat, Philip said gently, "MotherMine,"--it used to be his father's pet name for his mother,--"here isthe ring you gave father when at college." He drew the seal ring fromhis finger and held it up before his grandmother, who, with one look atit, cried, "Yes, grandson, I know _he_ has gone, for he promised me--"there was a quiver in her voice--"that the ring should never be removeduntil--" she drew a deep breath that threatened to turn into asob--"until he was no more. But he has given me--you, his son. Oh, mydear boy, my own grandson!"
* * * * *
Nathalie sat by her little sewing-table under the trees, gazing off ather grand old friends, the purple-misted mountains. It had seemed hardto do anything, this her last day at Seven Pillars, but gaze at thelofty heights that stood forth so calm and beautiful in their mysticalsplendor on this gloriously White Mountain day. But she _must_ read overthat letter to see if it was all right, so, in soft, low tone she readslowly,
"Dear Helen:
"I have such good news to tell you that I can hardly write,--for, oh, Helen! the little old lady who lived in the red house is Mrs. Renwick, and Philip de Brie, the British soldier whom we found up in the cabin on the mountain, is her grandson! And I have won the prize. No, of course, it is not really a prize, but the good-will and affectionate regard of Aunt Mary, because--well--I made her happy by selecting her son's Bible as the most valuable thing in her house. And now I have dandy news to tell. She is going to send me to college. I have just lived in a dream ever since I heard the good news. Yes, and I have one hundred dollars for my _very own_, to do just as I like with--no restrictions, reparations, or indemnities, but just for _wee little me_. I think that blessed sum was given to me, because the boys, when told I had won the prize, could not understand anything so vague as going to college, but they did finger that crisp bank-note with eager, curious little fingers when I showed it to them. Sometimes I feel a little guilty, for _really_ Cynthia's selection, a Van Dyke painting, was the most valuable from a certain point of view.
"And, oh, what I told you would happen about Philip and Janet is true, for they are engaged, and go about looking into each other's eyes in a state of beatific happiness. Now she will be a grand lady, for she to live with her new husband, and mother, in a beautiful mansion in Boston. And Cynthia. Well, Mrs. Renwick was quite angry with her, but finally, after mother and I had talked to her, and told her the disadvantages she labored under, and how she wanted to marry Mr. Buddie, why she partly relented, for she is to set Cynthia up in a studio in Boston, and try to get her friends to buy her pictures, for she insists that Cynthia is a real artist.
"And Mrs. Renwick--mother says I must learn to call her Aunt Mary--wanted Sheila to live with her, and as there was no question of separating her from Danny, he goes to Boston with her and is to be educated, and I know he will grow to be just a splendid man. Mrs. Van Vorst has taken another one of my kids, Tony. She has always be
en in love with those black eyes of his, and she insists that he is going to be a great musician. Then there was dear little Jean. Yes, he had to have something good come into his life, too, so mother and I have decided to take him to live with us.
"And now for another bit of news. I had a nice, long letter from the soldier-boy, Van Darrell, and isn't it too funny, but that Blue Robin girl of his was just _me_ all the time. Now for the fairy-tale part of my story. Do you remember my telling you about writing a letter to a soldier-boy, and slipping it into a comfort-kit that, with a lot of others, was to be given to the boys at Camp Mills?
"Well, Van got it. He says that it set him to thinking, and made him realize that we were not only going into this war of wars to get even with the Huns, but because it is our duty to give the liberty that we enjoy in our country to all the nations in the world. And he has been ordered overseas. Yes, and he says he's going, ready to make the sacrifice if necessary, and to give his life that all men may be free. Oh, I'm so glad I wrote that letter, and to think it has done some one some good. Yes, and I'm going to pray as hard as I can that the soldier-boy will come back to his mother, and to his friend, Blue Robin. Yes, indeed, I am glad that he is not just a conceited boy, as I at one time feared.
"So good-by, you dear little maid, serving the Lord so faithfully with those busy fingers of yours. I think of you every day, and pray for you every night, so, with a bushel of love, I am, as ever,
"Your own "Blue Robin."
THE END
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DOROTHY BROWN
By NINA RHOADES
Illustrated by Elizabeth Withington
Large 12mo Cloth $1.50 net
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This is considerably longer than the other books by this favoritewriter, and with a more elaborate plot, but it has the same winsomequality throughout. It introduces the heroine in New York as a littlegirl of eight, but soon passes over six years and finds her at a selectfamily boarding school in Connecticut. An important part of the storyalso takes place at the Profile House in the White Mountains. The charmof school-girl friendship is finely brought out, and the kindness ofheart, good sense and good taste which find constant expression in thebooks by Miss Rhoades do not lack for characters to show these best ofqualities by their lives. Other less admirable persons of course appearto furnish the alluring mystery, which is not all cleared up until thevery last.
"There will be no better book than this to put into the hands of a girlin her teens and none that will be better appreciated by her."--KennebecJournal.
MARION'S VACATION
By NINA RHOADES
Illustrated by Bertha G. Davidson 12mo $1.25 net
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This book is for the older girls, Marion being thirteen. She has for tenyears enjoyed a luxurious home in New York with the kind lady who feelsthat the time has now come for this aristocratic though lovable littlemiss to know her own nearest kindred, who are humble but most excellentfarming people in a pretty Vermont village. Thither Marion is sent for asummer, which proves to be a most important one to her in all itslessons.
"More wholesome reading for half grown girls it would be hard to find;some of the same lessons that proved so helpful in that classic of thelast generation 'An Old Fashioned Girl' are brought home to the youthfulreaders of this sweet and sensible story."--Milwaukee Free Press.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston
------------------------------------------------------------------------
JEAN CABOT SERIES
By GERTRUDE FISHER SCOTT
Illustrated by Arthur O. Scott 12mo Cloth
Price, Net, $1.35 each
JEAN CABOT AT ASHTON
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Here is the "real thing" in a girl's college story. Older authors caninvent situations and supply excellently written general delineations ofcharacter, but all lack the vital touch of this work of a bright youngrecent graduate of a well-known college for women, who has lost none ofthe enthusiasm felt as a student. Every activity of a popular girl'sfirst year is woven into a narrative, photographic in its description ofa life that calls into play most attractive qualities, while at the sametime severely testing both character and ability.
JEAN CABOT IN THE BRITISH ISLES
This is a college story, although dealing with a summer vacation, andfull of college spirit. It begins with a Yale-Harvard boat race at NewLondon, but soon Jean and her room-mate sail for Great Britain under thechaperonage of Miss Hooper, a favorite member of the faculty at AshtonCollege. Their trip is full of the delight that comes to the travelerfirst seeing the countries forming "our old home."
JEAN CABOT IN CAP AND GOWN
Jean Cabot is a superb young woman, physically and mentally, butthoroughly human and thus favored with many warm friendships. Her finalyear at Ashton College is the culmination of a course in which study,sport and exercise, and social matters have been well balanced.
JEAN CABOT AT THE HOUSE WITH THE BLUE SHUTTERS
Such a group as Jean and her most intimate friends could not scatter atonce, as do most college companions after graduation, and six of themunder chaperonage of a married older graduate and member of the samesorority spend a eventful summer in a historic farm-house in Maine.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. Boston
------------------------------------------------------------------------
HANDICRAFT FOR HANDY GIRLS
By A. NEELY HALL
Author of "The Boy Craftsman," "Handicraft for Handy Boys," "The Handy Boy"
AND DOROTHY PERKINS
Illustrated with photographs and more than 700 diagrams and working drawings
8vo Cloth Price, Net, $2.00 Postpaid, $2.25
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With the aid of an experienced craftswoman, A. Neely Hall, who is in aclass by himself as a thoroughly reliable teacher of handicraft, everyoperation that he describes being first practically worked out byhimself, and every working drawing presented being original, new, andactual, has opened the door for the great and constantly increasingnumber of girls who like to "make things." Such girls see no reason whythe joy of mechanical work should be restricted to their brothers, andwith this book it need no longer be. The first part of the book isdevoted to a great variety of indoor craft that can be followed inautumn and winter, while the second part, "Spring and SummerHandicraft," deals with many attractive forms of outdoor life, includingan entire chapter on the activities of "Camp Fire Girls."
"This book will be hailed with delight by all girls who have amechanical turn."--Watchman-Examiner.
"Girls will love just such a book and will find interest for every dayof the year in it."--St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
"Triumphs of ingenuity never dreamed of are to be found in this volumeof handicraft that girls can make, but its chief charm is to be found inthe practical value of most of the things to be made."--LexingtonHera
ld.
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BOOKS BY RENA I. HALSEY
Illustrated Cloth $1.50 each
BLUE ROBIN, THE GIRL PIONEER
Nathalie Page is just such a girl of sixteen as one likes to read about.Obliged to exchange affluence in a large city for a modest home in asmall one, she develops into capable young womanhood by becoming amember of The Girl Pioneers of America.
"Any girl of a dozen years or more, or even less, will enjoy thisthoroughly, and anyone, young or old, will be the better for having readit."--Pittsburgh Times-Gazette.
AMERICA'S DAUGHTER
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This is a rarely good and inspiring story of girls in a select school inBrooklyn who organize a club called "Daughters of America," and underthe care of a well-liked teacher take a trip to points on the NewEngland coast made famous in our history. One of the girls has beenbrought up without knowledge of her own family, and so is called"America's Daughter." In the course of the trip she unravels the mysteryof her birth and all ends happily and profitably.
"It is an inspiring story, well told and will be appreciated by girlswho love an active, out of doors life."--Daily Press, Portland, Me.
THE LIBERTY GIRL
Nathalie Page, seventeen, bright and popular with all her mates, forms aclub called the "Liberty Girls" and enthusiastically does her bit tohelp win the war. A surprising invitation to the White Mountains takesher from organized activity with her companions, but a girl likeNathalie will not be idle wherever she goes, and in carrying out theprinciples of patriotic service she wins great and deserved credit.
Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. Boston
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber's Notes
1. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
2. Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation in the original document have been preserved.
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