CHAPTER VIII
THE TURN OF THE LANE
Jessamy and Barbara were ready for their expedition in search ofpeace by nine o'clock the next morning. Phyllis had solemnly promisedto prepare for herself and her aunt alternate cups of beef-tea andmalted milk for every two hours of their absence, a task to which sheprotested she was quite equal, especially as she would be sustained bythe remembrance of the errand on which they were bound. If they weredetained over lunch-hour, the willing but overworked maid was engagedto serve them, a provision for possibilities suggested by Phyllis,who realized that Harlem was a long distance away and flat-seekingconsuming of time.
"Phyllis is rather like the centurion in the gospel: she tells one togo, and she goeth, and another to do this, and she doeth it. That isn'tirreverent, because the centurion was only a Roman soldier, not evena prophet," said Bab, as she and Jessamy toiled up the elevated-roadsteps at Thirty-third Street. "I wonder what it is about Phyl that weall yield to?"
"She is very decided, with all her quiet manner, for one thing," saidJessamy; "and we have learned that she is generally right, and pulls usout of difficulties for another. Wait till I get up, Bab; I think I'vetwo tickets."
"What does it matter? Keep them; we shall need them when we've moved uptown," said Bab, airily, as she dashed ahead and deposited ten cents atthe ticket-seller's window.
They had a list of apartments to rent, cut from the paper, and theydecided, after consulting it, to make One Hundred and Fourth Streetwhat Bab called "their distributing-point," whence they would scatterthemselves impartially over the neighborhood.
It is not wholly an attractive section of the city; Jessamy andBab felt their ardor somewhat dampened after they had rung severaljanitors' bells, in uniformly small vestibules decorated withstencil-work on the ceilings and walls, and with little brassspeaking-tubes, and electric bells, and, in many cases, with severalsmall children munching cookies and staring, round-eyed, at thestrangers. The apartments they were shown were not what they haddreamed of the previous night. They were tiny, with chambers "justabout large enough to iron a pocket handkerchief on the floor," saidJessamy, forlornly.
But Barbara said, "Where there's scope there's hope, and New York islarge," and kept on cheerfully. At last they discovered a house furtherup, but still below the bend of the elevated road, around which, thegirls felt sure, they would never be able to persuade their mother totravel. It looked very neatly kept; the janitor's wife, a ruddy German,showed them the rooms, up two flights, with no elevator, it was true,but the stairs were not steep ones. There were seven rooms in thelittle place, not large, but not as small as the others they had seen;the outlook was on a quiet street, the chambers were not all dark andaired from a well, and the upper entrance to Central Park was but twoblocks away. The rent of the apartment, they were told, was forty-fivedollars a month; but, since it was February, the janitor thought itcould be had for forty. Jessamy and Barbara were unversed in the waysof landlords, and did not know that this was a method frequentlyresorted to in trying to enhance the attractiveness of unrentedproperty; it had its desired effect in their case, and they quitetrembled lest some one else should secure their bargain before they hadtime to report it to their mother.
"We will go to see the landlord," said Jessamy, making a note of hisaddress, and hoping she did not seem too eager.
They got home, tired but triumphant, to be greeted by two faces so muchbrighter than the ones they had left that they were amazed, until Mrs.Wyndham and Phyllis told them in a breath that Mrs. Van Alyn had comehome, and had been to see them.
THE EXPEDITION IN SEARCH OF PEACE.]
"And, oh, girls!" cried Phyllis, giving them each a rapturous squeeze."I got her in this room all alone and told her our plan, and whereyou had gone, and she thought it the wisest move we could make.And--and--oh, Jess--oh, Bab, I'm half crazy! She's had some of ourdearest things stored away for us, and we never knew it! Uncle's bigchair, Bab's piano, our desks, tables--oh, I don't know what theyare--and photographs and casts out of our own dear, lovely old rooms;and now they will be all ready for this little home!"
Bab turned white, then took a header into the pillows to smother thecry of joy which she could not keep back, but which her mother must nothear, while Jessamy, who had silently mourned her lost treasures asneither of the others had, dropped into the rocking-chair, crying forjoy.
Mrs. Van Alyn had advised the girls to settle the matter withoutconsulting their mother. She was so weak, so dead to all interestaround her, that her friend thought it would be better to take her intothe little apartment when it was ready to receive her, without givingher a chance to worry over the difficulties in their path--difficultieswhich, in her condition, would impress her more than the advantages ofthe plan.
Jessamy took Mrs. Van Alyn to see their discovery, and she approved;that made it somewhat better if matters went wrong later, for Jessamydid not like to assume all responsibility for such a radical change ofwhich her mother was to be ignorant.
So the flat was taken, and then arose the question of "Onlynecessities, dear girls, at first, if you are guided by my advice,"said Mrs. Van Alyn; "but buy good things, and select wisely. Thearticles I have saved for you out of your old home are rather of thenature of luxuries, so you will have almost as much as your little nestwill hold of pretty things, which is fortunate."
The new apartment was repapered from front to back, and the girls hadthe pleasure of selecting the colors. A soft gray-green in the parlor,a rich red, olive, and brown tapestry in the dining-room, light, cheerypapers in the darker bedrooms were their choice, and entirely changedthe effect given by the ugly papers which had preceded them. The floorswere stained in the parlor and dining-room, and for the floors of thelittle chambers Jessamy bought tasteful denims, which were not onlypretty, but would save labor in sweeping. The three-feet-wide hallrunning through the apartment was stained also, and black goatskin rugsbought to lay at intervals; they were real of their kind, and Jessamyabhorred imitations. The parlor had a pretty Wilton rug to coverit, and the dining-room likewise. Curtains were not among the firstnecessities, though the girls thought longingly of their softeningeffect against the woodwork, which was not of the best quality.However, there must be many things left for time to supply; the outlayfor dining-room and chamber furniture was all their first quarter'sincome could spare.
Ruth was called into consultation for the kitchen; she and Barbarahad a delightful morning in a hardware shop, buying bright tins andfascinating japanned boxes, and all the other homely articles--homelyin the English sense, for they looked beautiful to the homesickgirls--which go to furnish the most important room in the house.
Jessamy, Phyllis, and Bab were wild with delight during these lastdays; they hardly knew how to get through them, so impatient werethey for the day to come when they should take possession of theirkingdom. Tom was not less excited than they. Not a day passed withouthis bringing home some wonderful contribution to the co?perativehousekeeping, in which he claimed his full share of co?peration. Andat last, on the day before the Wyndhams were to move up town, Mrs. VanAlyn carried Tom off with her to the apartment, forbidding the girlsentrance to their own precincts, and with his help set in place thepriceless treasures of old association which her kindness had kept forthem from a past more splendid, but which the present promised to equalin happiness.
And so the great day came. Mrs. Wyndham had been told only two daysbefore of the home awaiting her, and received the news with rather moreapprehension than pleasure.
Aunt Henrietta had been to see them, and had scolded the girls roundlyfor their madness, prophesying utter failure and expense far beyondtheir calculations, and telling them that it was quite evident theymeant to kill their poor mother, putting a burden upon her she was sounequal to bearing, for of course it was ridiculous to consider them,inexperienced, spoiled children, as either housekeepers or cooks.
But though there was a little time after this interview that Jessamyespecially, having been the o
ne who was inclined to doubt, felt herardor somewhat dampened, it passed quickly, for Tom came, bringing ina patent washboard which did everything but iron the clothes laid ina tub in which it stood; and in the nonsense talked over it, and thelecture Tom gave on its merits, Aunt Henrietta was forgotten.
Phyllis had given up her position with Mrs. Haines. They hoped tosave as much as she had earned there under the new arrangements, andher services were needed at home to do this. "Besides, you couldn'tpossibly be a nursery governess, Phyllis Wyndham," said Bab. "Won't itbe blissful if we can earn money by saving it, and by making a home forourselves into the bargain?"
Mrs. Van Alyn sent her carriage once more for her old friend's service.Mrs. Black "assembled," Tom said, to see them off; this time it wasPhyllis who accompanied her aunt, and the two invalids were furnishedwith refreshments for the drive, and the coachman was ordered to takethem up through the park at an easy pace. And so, in the carriage whichhad borne her away from her first home, poor Mrs. Wyndham, full of therecollection, too ill and too sad to share the girls' enthusiasm, rodeaway to her new one.
The trunks and all Tom's mad contributions to the apartment had goneaway early, and as soon as the door had closed on their mother andPhyllis, Jessamy and Barbara tore up the long flights to get their hatsand jackets and hasten after them.
Bab seized Jessamy around the waist and waltzed her all over bothempty rooms, singing at the top of her voice. The chambermaidpushed her reddish bang out of her eyes to see better, and grinnedsympathetically; she liked the Wyndhams, who had been considerate ofher, and she would have been glad to escape bondage herself.
"Oh, Nellie, here is our parting gift to you," said Jessamy. "We'remuch obliged to you for what you have done for us since we came here."
"Sure, 'twa'n't anything to thank me for, miss, thanks to you; an'it's sorry I am to see you goin'," said Nellie, wiping her foreheadwith her apron, for she knew from long experience that it was dustywithout looking to see.
"Don't say it, Nellie, don't say it," cried Bab, wriggling into herjacket, both arms at a time. "I'm so glad I think I shall die beforeI get home--home, Nellie, home! Only think of that--_home_, and wehave been boarding here since September! Come on, Jess! Don't stop forgloves; put them on in the train! Got everything? Oh, hurry! We mustbe there to look after Madrina and Phyl, and I'm wild to see what Mrs.Van Alyn and that boy did up there yesterday. Don't stop for gloves;I'm going crazy."
"You're crazy now," said Jessamy, but she tucked her gloves into hercoat pocket, and her voice shook, and her cheeks were crimson. "Come,then. Good-by, Nellie; I hope you will be well and happy. Good-by, oldroom; we might have left you sorrowful instead of rejoicing, and Ithank you for that."
Barbara was already half way down-stairs; Jessamy ran after her, andthey reached the front door breathless, to find Mrs. Black and Mrs.Hardy waiting to say farewell.
"I wish you luck," said Mrs. Black, with an air that seemed to imply itwas a hopeless desire for any one mad enough to leave her shelteringroof. "You'll find housekeeping very different from having no caresand being free to enjoy yourself. I hope you may be happy, and your mawon't break down under the strain; she can't stand much."
"Good-by, Miss Wyndham and Miss Barbara," said Mrs. Hardy. "I thought,maybe, the young medical student might board with you. I hope you won'tforget to send us cards to your wedding, my dear. I think you make amistake to leave here, but I hope you know best."
"Did you ever dream of such a horrible old woman?" said Bab, walkingindignantly down the street to Sixth Avenue. But these last shafts fromthe quiver which had pricked them so often in the past months could notannoy Jessamy and Barbara long, because they were the last; were theynot going home, home, and is not home a word to conjure evils away?
The ride seemed endless to the two girls, feverish with impatience;the train dragged around the curve at Fifty-third Street, and loiteredas it had never done before at each station. But at last--at last thetedious journey ended, and once they had turned east out of crowdedColumbus Avenue, Jessamy and Bab fairly ran down the street where theirapartment waited them.
They let themselves into the house with their own latch-key; thejanitor's wife was cleaning brasses, and said good morning pleasantly,but with no notion of what a great event was happening before herSwabian eyes. How could she have, poor soul, since people move in andout of apartments every day, and few of them are young exiles, hungryfor a home, come to take possession of their Land of Promise?
Jessamy's heart beat so she could hardly get up the stairs, but Babhonorably waited for her, and would not put the key in the lock--notthe general, common lock of the outer door, solemn as that ceremony hadbeen, but the sacred, blessed lock of their own private-hall door.
She threw the door open, clutched Jessamy's hand, who returned thepressure with interest, and together they entered their home.
How beautiful, peaceful, homelike everything looked! There stood Bab'spiano, Jessamy's desk, and the pictures they had loved welcomed themfrom the walls like living things.
They ran from room to room, calling to each other, sobbing andlaughing and kissing the inanimate things like crazy girls. Phyllis'sdesk stood in her room, and the little rocking-chair Bab loved bestheld out its arms to her beside her bed. In the dining-room they foundsilver they had thought never to see again, and dishes which, empty orfull, they knew would be equal to food to their mother.
They made their excited way back to the parlor finally, and Jessamydropped exhausted in the window, which was mysteriously draped withwhite lace, though they had made up their minds to self-denial in thematter of curtains. Her eyes rested on her father's chair, and herlips trembled with joy and gratitude. "Oh, God bless that dear, dearMrs. Van Alyn!" she said, though she usually found such expressionimpossible.
Barbara opened the piano, and laid her hands on the keys. She strucktwo or three chords of "Home, Sweet Home," and then laid her head downon the pretty case to cry the happiest tears she had ever shed.
It was fortunate that Jessamy and Barbara had more than half an hour toawait the arrival of the invalids, for neither Phyllis nor their motherwas strong enough to encounter them while their excitement was at itsheight. When they arrived the girls had calmed down enough to open thedoor quietly and say, with only a little tremor in each voice: "Welcomehome, mama and Phyllis!"
Phyllis looked white after her drive, but the color rushed from herthroat to her short hair at the sight that met her eyes. She did notattempt to go further than the parlor sofa, where Bab led her, andlet her cousin take off her wraps without an effort to help herself.She lay still in a trance of delight, looking from one dear pictureto another, letting the soothing green tone of the room sink into herbrain and rest her as if a quiet hand had been laid upon her nerves.
Mrs. Wyndham got no further than her husband's chair. She sank intoit, laid her tired head against its cool leather, and burst into quiettears. But even the girls, inexperienced as they were, recognizedthat they were tears which would restore her, that they stood for thebreaking up of the apathy which had been the worst phase of theirmother's illness, over which Doctor Jerome had looked gravest. And theyfelt certain that they had done well in taking matters into their ownhands, and giving the frail little mother a home once more.
Bab, getting to herself again, saw that the taking possession must bekeyed lower, and that they must get into the commonplace as quickly aspossible if they wanted their mother and Phyllis to feel no ill effectof the drive.
"We shall now proceed, Miss Wyndham and I, to prove to you that we canbuild a fire and cook," she said. "We are going into our kitchen, andshall turn on our gas, which is the way we always build a fire, andlight it with a safety match, and we shall take our new saucepan andheat for both of you ladies a fresh glass of milk. You will perceive,without my mentioning it, that everything we propose to do is new andup-to-date. You shall be served within fifteen minutes, Mrs. Wyndham,ma'am, with crisp, fresh crackers, hot milk, and a thimbleful ofbrandy, then you a
nd your niece will be mildly but firmly compelled tolie down on your beds until luncheon." A program which was carried outto the letter.
Oh, the joy of preparing that luncheon, when for the first time Jessamydeposited the carefully measured tea--measured by the old rule ofa teaspoonful to each cup and one for the pot--into the fat littleJapanese teapot, and the unutterable bliss of peeping in afterward,with an air of experience, to see if it had "drawn" sufficiently! Andthe happiness of broiling the chops on the broiler of the gas-range,new and lovely to behold, if it was black! And the greater happiness ofmaking cocoa for the invalids in the alluring agate saucepan, broughtforth from the under part of the kitchen closet, to be useful for thefirst time in its gray, satin-finish life!
Bab was delirious, cut a slice of bread, and flew off to turn thechops; cut two more slices, and ran away to hug her mother. She setthe cold water running, and Jessamy just stopped her afterward fromfilling the water-pitcher from the hot-water faucet. She set the tablein a whirl, darting here and there with rapturous squeals at thediscovery of some treasure she had not yet seen; on the whole, didall a mad child could do to prove that Aunt Henrietta was right, andthat she was "flighty" and unreliable.
Jessamy took her happiness in another way. She went about with anuplifted look on her lovely face, touched everything with a kind ofreverence, brooding over the teacups and lifting the butter-jar as ifthey were little babies. She forgot nothing, left nothing undone, andwhen she went in to say, with an assumption of what she intended fora commonplace manner, though her voice would quiver: "Lunch is ready,mama; come, Phyllis," she called them to a meal perfect, so far as itwent, thanks to her and in spite of Bab's temporary insanity.
Tom and Ruth came to that first dinner. Tom had camped out, andinsisted on cooking the steak. Ruth showed the girls how to boilpotatoes so that they would neither crumble to bits nor emergewater-soaked from the hot water. Ruth also taught them to prepare thecanned peas so that the flavor of the tin would be taken from them;and more than this they did not attempt, beyond cutting oranges intoflower shapes for dessert, and making black coffee, which the girls hadsupposed a simple accomplishment until Ruth explained to them the manyways in which they could spoil it.
Nixie had a brilliant red bow, which he despised, on his collar for theoccasion, and was fed in turn by every one till he could eat no moreand retired to the front of the radiator to meditate on the advantagesof housekeeping.
Mrs. Wyndham made an effort, and took her place at the head of hertable to please the girls, and really showed such an improved appetitethat Jessamy and Barbara forgot theirs in the joy of watching her. AndPhyllis did her duty by the tender steak as only fever and half a yearof "Blackboard" steaks could make her. Jessamy and Bab made a dinnerchiefly of rapture; it was all so wonderful, so blissful, that they didnot crave ordinary food, but beamed on their family in satisfactionthat was as nourishing--for once--as steak.
Tom donned one of the new plaid gingham aprons provided for the younghousekeepers and helped with the dishes. It was only a game, new andfascinating, this first time to wash even the greasy broiler; but Ruthhad shown them the charm of ammonia and a patent preparation of potash,and even dainty Jessamy faced the prospect of future pans fearlessly.
"Now, I've one more contribution to this mansion," said Tom. "I wantedto show it to you when I came, but I feared for my dinner. Your motherhas it in the parlor. It's for you, Phyllis."
"Is it--" began Phyllis, but Tom interrupted her. "Don't guess; comeand see, all of you."
Phyllis fairly jumped from the rocking-chair, where she had beeninstalled in range of the kitchen door to watch the dish-washing, andran, as if she had never been ill, into the parlor. There sat her aunt,and in her lap, curled up like a powder-puff, the tiniest, whitestkitten ever seen. Phyllis had it in her hands and cuddled in her neckin a moment. "Oh, Tom, it's lovely! Oh, if you only knew how I'vebeen wanting a kitten! How did you get such a white one?" she criedrapturously.
"I've had it engaged for you for ten days; we've been waiting for itto learn to eat; it's only a month old," said Tom, looking very happyat Phyllis's pleasure. "His mother is a white lady of most honorablereputation and perfect manners; they say all her kittens are models inevery way. Hope he'll do you credit."
"He shall be called Truce," cried Phyllis; "because he's all white andwe're at peace."
"Truce is not peace; however, it's a jolly name," said Tom. "I calledhim Antiseptic Cotton, but I don't mind if you change the name. Helooks precisely like the little packages of cotton we use in thehospital."
"Horrid!" said Bab, decidedly. "Truce is pretty. I think you might letsome one else see just the tip of his tail, Phyl. We like kittens, too."
"He adds the very last touch to the hominess of everything," saidPhyllis, generously handing the kitten over to Bab. "Bless you, Tom,for getting him!"