CHAPTER X. WANTED--A HOUSEKEEPER
Meanwhile Colonel Wainright was facing a new problem. While living alonehe had needed very little waiting on, a faithful Chinese cook hadprovided his meals, and the wife of his hired man had come in daily fromtheir quarters over the stables to clean the house, but the O'Haras haddecided to return to Ireland. Geraldine, of course, was absolutelyhelpless and the Colonel decided that what he needed was a refined andsomewhat elderly housekeeper, one who would be a good influence in thehome. Just where to find such a person he could not think at first, buthe happened to recall his old friend Mrs. Thompson, who had transformedher fine house on Hickory lane, not far from the girls' seminary, into ahome for old ladies. It wasn't a charitable plan, exactly; it was a homefor homeless old ladies of some means whose last days would be made farhappier there than they could be elsewhere. Mrs. Thompson, herself,retained a large front room overlooking the beautiful grounds, and spenther summers there; winters she lived either in Europe or with her son inNew York. But only that day he had seen in the paper that for some reasonMrs. Thompson was spending a few weeks at her country home, and thecourtly old gentleman decided to visit her and ask her advice about howbest to solve the problem with which he was confronted.
An hour later he was walking under the leafless hickory trees that formeda veritable grove surrounding a very large turreted wooden house, one ofthe oldest in the village. A pleasant-faced little old woman answered hisring, ushered him into the small reception room, and went to summon Mrs.Thompson. He had not long to wait, for his elderly friend, dressed in asimple black silk, as she had been all through the years since herhusband had died, soon appeared and greeted him graciously. Afterexplaining that her return had been because of a need for quiet andsimpler fare than she could obtain easily in her son's New York home, theold gentleman explained his mission, telling how he had unexpectedlyacquired a family and so had need of a housekeeper. Before his story wasfinished, he knew by the brightening expression in the fine face of theold lady that she had someone in mind to suggest. Nor was he wrong.
"I believe Mrs. Gray is just the one for you," she told him. "Sheadmitted you just now." Then before Mr. Wainright could reply, Mrs.Thompson continued: "Mrs. Gray came to us recently, during my absence. Iknow nothing at all about her past life; we ask no questions here. It is,as you know, merely a home boarding-house for gentlewomen. I asked Mrs.Gray this morning if she were happy with us, and she said, with a wistfulexpression on that unusually sweet face of hers, that she was afraid shenever would be entirely contented without a home to keep, and she askedme if she might go down in the kitchen now and then and stir up a puddingor something. Now my theory is that she is a born housekeeper and justthe one you need."
Colonel Wainright agreed, and the little old lady who longed to putterabout a kitchen was called and the proposition was made to her. The othertwo knew by the brightening of her softly wrinkled face that she wasdelighted to accept. The Colonel had told about the two Morrison"children," as he called them, who had come to spend the winter with him,and by the tender light that glowed in her eyes he was assured that sheloved young people and would have for them an understanding sympathy.
"Mrs. Gray," he said, when the arrangements had been completed, "there isabout you a haunting suggestion of someone whom I once knew. Ever sinceyou admitted me an hour ago I have been trying to think who it is thatyou resemble, but I have given it up."
The little old lady smiled pleasantly as she replied: "It does seem thateverywhere I go, folks think I look like somebody they've known."
"Well, that's about all there is to it," the old man acknowledged. "Ihave had the same thing happen to me. Judge Crow, up in Dorchester, and Iare supposed to be doubles." Then, holding out his hand, first to one andthen another of the old ladies, he expressed his deep gratitude to themboth, ending with a promise to send for Mrs. Gray and her baggage thatvery afternoon.
And so it happened that on the third day after the arrival of the youngpeople, another member was added to their household. Colonel Wainrighthad welcomed the little old lady and had at once introduced her toGeraldine and Alfred, then he had walked to town, leaving them to theirown devices.
It was quite evident that Geraldine's good humor of the day before haddeparted, for she acknowledged the introduction with a barely perceptiblenod and had risen at once to go to her own room. Never before had shebeen _introduced_ to a housekeeper as though she were one of her ownclass. Colonel Wainright was certainly old-fashioned. Servants wereservants, she considered, whatever they were called.
Alfred, who had promised to go skating with Jack and Bob, had welcomedthe old lady in the friendliest manner, and she knew at once that she wasgoing to love the boy, but the girl--that was quite a different matter.
The Colonel had shown the housekeeper to her pleasant room overlookingthe orchard when her trunk and bags had been taken there; he had alsointroduced her to Ching Lee, the plump, smiling Chinaman in the kitchen.When she was quite alone, the old lady stood by a window in her roomgazing out at a sparkling snow-covered scene, and her eyes were misty.How happy she had been when the Colonel had told her she was to make ahome, a real home, for a boy and girl. One of the unfulfilled desires ofher life was to have had grandchildren. She blinked a bit, then wiped hereyes with her handkerchief and smiled at the scene before her. "Well,"she comforted herself by thinking, "I'll pretend these two are mygrandchildren, and I'll treat them just as lovingly as though they reallywere, and I'll begin that game right now."
Putting a clean white apron over her soft grey dress, she went down thewide upper hall toward the front room, which was Geraldine's.
Meanwhile that rebellious girl was unpacking her trunk in a manner whichshowed that it was a most distasteful task. Never before had she liftedher finger to wait on herself. Susan, her maid, had always doneeverything for her. She had asked her father to permit her to bring Susanto Sunnyside with her, but he had said that he could not ask his oldfriend to take three people into his home. As she thought of thisinjustice, her anger mounted higher and higher, and she took things fromher trunk and actually threw them over the bed, chairs and lounge. Everyconceivable spot was littered when there came a tap on the door.
"Come in!" the girl said sullenly, supposing that it was her brother whowished to speak with her. Instead a smiling little old lady opened thedoor.
"Why, Geraldine, child," she said kindly, "you _are_ busy, aren't you?Unpacking and hanging things up is quite an undertaking, but I thinkfolks like to do it themselves, then they know where things were put."
The girl's face reddened in very evident displeasure. "Well, _I_ don'tlike it," she said coldly, "and I don't see why I should have to. I've_always_ had a maid to wait on me, and I've simply got to have one. Nowthat you've come, I suppose you'll make my bed and keep my room inorder."
The old lady had had a talk with the Colonel about this very matter, andhe had definitely said that waiting on the girl was _not_ one of herduties, explaining that Mr. Morrison had especially requested that shelearn how to care for herself. Very quietly Mrs. Gray replied: "No,little girl, that is _not_ one of my duties."
Then, as the front door bell was ringing, the housekeeper went to answerit. Geraldine, standing among the confusion and litter, watched theretreat with flashing eyes.
"Little girl, indeed! Our housekeeper always addressed me as MissGeraldine. Country ways and country servants are certainly hard tounderstand."
Her torrent of angry thoughts was interrupted by a sweet voice calling:"Geraldine, two girls are coming up to see you."
Geraldine looked around the room wildly, but before she had time todecide what she could do to prevent the girls from entering, they werestanding in the open door.
"Oh, good morning, Miss Drexel and Miss Lee," the unwilling hostessexclaimed, with a quickly assumed graciousness which had been acquired atthe young ladies' select seminary. "Wait until I remove a few dressesfrom the chairs and
I will ask you to be seated."
Doris and Merry exchanged puzzled glances. They felt Geraldine's trueattitude of mind, and the former said: "Oh, Miss Morrison, we reallyought not to have made so early a morning call, but we have decided to goto the Drexel Lodge on Little Bear Lake tomorrow, and there are so manythings to talk about. We did try to telephone, but the line is out oforder, but first do let us help you put away your things."
To Geraldine's amazement, the two girls removed their wraps, laughing andchatting the while in a most social fashion.
"I'm going to suggest that we drop formality," Merry said, "and call eachother by our first names; and now, Geraldine, I just know that you areever so tired with unpacking, so you sit here and tell us where you wantthese dresses hung, and presto, we'll have them up in a twinkling."
"But I cannot permit you girls to wait upon me!" the hostess protested.
"Why not?" Doris inquired. "My mother says that the most beautiful thingthat we can do is loving service for one another. Oh, what a darlingdress this is! It glows like jewels, doesn't it, Merry?"
The city girl was rather pleased to be showing off her elaborate wardrobeto these village girls, who were evidently quite impressed.
"Oh, that's just one of my party gowns," she said indifferently. "I haveseveral." Then she confessed: "I honestly don't know how to go abouthanging them up. I have just stepped out of my clothes and Susan, mymaid, has put them away."
"My, how I would hate to have anyone tagging _me_ around all the timelike that," Merry exclaimed, not any too tactfully. "It would get on mynerves."
Geraldine drew herself up haughtily and bit her lip to keep fromreplying. Her two guests, with many exclamations of admiration for thedresses, hung them up in the long closet, and then, when that task wasfinished, Merry announced: "Now I will show you my latest accomplishment,of which I am real proud."
Her chum laughed as she explained: "You see, Geraldine, my mother has acompanion, who is also a trained nurse, and last week she taught Merryhow to make a bed in hospital fashion, and the next day when I went overto the Lees', Merry had made and unmade her bed seven times trying to getit perfect."
"There's quite a knack to it," that maiden smilingly declared, as shestretched, smoothed and tucked in sheets and blankets. Then as she stoodback proudly and surveyed her accomplishment, she said, "Mother thinks mybed-making is a work of art."
Geraldine wanted to say that she did not consider menial labor of anykind an art, but she refrained from making the comment.
Merry sank down in an easy chair by the fireplace and looked around witha radiant smile. "Everything was cleared away like magic, wasn't it?" shesaid sociably; then she added philosophically: "If one dreads a thing,that makes the doing of it doubly hard, but when one pretends that it isgoing to be great fun, it gets done much more quickly; don't you thinkso, Geraldine?"
Poor Geraldine's head was in a whirl. Somehow she could not adjustherself to the view of things held by these country girls.
The Colonel had told her that Mr. Lee was the wealthiest man in thecountryside, and, of course, she knew the financial and social standingof the Drexel family, and yet these girls had been taught that it was aprivilege to render loving service and that bed-making was an art.
"Now, we must tell you all of our grand and glorious plans for tomorrow'slark," Doris began as she drew her chair up cosily. Then they chatteredabout the sleigh ride and the skating party, and when at last the littleclock on the mantle chimed the hour of twelve, Merry sprang up and lookedout of the window. "Here come the boys!" she said. "I made them promisethat they would call for us at noon. They've been down to the lake toclean off a space on the ice for our skating party."
"I'm so glad, Geraldine, that you like to skate," Doris exclaimed as sheslipped on her fur coat. "You'll want to wear your heaviest shoes andleggins on the sleigh-ride party and your oldest, warmest clothes. Youwon't need to bring anything toward the picnic part. You and Alfred areto be our guests of honor tomorrow. Good-bye."
That night the Colonel, finding Geraldine standing alone in front of thefireplace in the living-room, slipped a fatherly arm about her, saying:"Little girl, I know how hard it is going to be for you to get used toour country ways, and I was just thinking that perhaps you would like togo to Dorchester with me tomorrow and spend the day with your friends."
"Oh, but I couldn't, Uncle-Colonel!" was the unexpected reply, brightlygiven. "The girls and boys of Sunnyside are giving a welcome party forAlfred and me. It's a sleigh ride out the lake road to the Drexel lodge;then there is to be skating, and a ride home in the moonlight. I neverwas so interested in anything before in all my life."
"That's good news!" the Colonel replied, deeply touched because the girlhad, almost unconsciously, used the name which he had taught her when shewas very small. "Well, some other time you may go with me to the city. Igo there often to attend to business matters."
That night after the young people had retired to their rooms, the Coloneland Mrs. Gray exchanged confidences and each felt hopeful that theunfortunate motherless girl was soon to have a change of heart.