CHAPTER XI
IN THE VALLEY.
"No, dear. I shall not wear myself out," said Mrs. Carruth, gently,though firmly. "I want you to go back to the house to look after themaids and Jean----"
"Oh, I don't want to go back! Please, please let me sleep in theBee-hive, mother. Please, please do," begged Jean, clasping her armsabout her mother's waist. Constance interrupted:
"Yes, mother, do. I will go back if you are determined not to, for Idare say the maids would be panic-stricken if left alone; but Jean mightjust as well remain here with you," for into Constance's active brainhad sprung an idea which she wished to carry out, and she knew she couldcount upon Jean's co-operation.
"But you and the maids would be quite alone in the house," demurred Mrs.Carruth.
"And do you think Jean would be big and valiant enough to protect mefrom prowlers?" smiled Constance. "It would be a hard-pressed burglarwho would venture forth this night, I'm thinking."
Just then a sound overhead caused Mrs. Carruth to raise her hand toenjoin silence, and Mammy was heard to say soothingly:
"Dar, dar, honey, jis' let me raise an' ease yo' up a leetle, so's yo'hits de sof'est fedders in de baid," and quickly upon the softer, moresoothing tones followed: "Yit what in de name o' man ever done teken yo'out of dis house yistiddy's mo'n I can tell. Ef yo'd done taken heed terma' wo'ds yo' wouldn' never come ter dis hyer pass."
Then followed a series of groans from the patient.
"Mammy is getting worn out and consequently irritable," said Mrs.Carruth. "Yes, you may remain, Jean, but Constance must go back, and Imust go to Charles. If Mammy has much more to tax her strength and mindshe will be ill, and she is in no mood to care for Charles now; she willdo more harm than good. Good-night, darling. Don't worry about me I will'phone over to the house if I need anything in the night." And Mrs.Carruth hurried upstairs.
"Come into the Bee-hive, Jean," whispered Constance. The little girlfollowed.
"Now, dear," said Constance, earnestly, "you and I have got to takematters into our own hands. Can I trust you, Jean?" Constance droppedupon a chair, and placing both arms about the little sister lookedstraight into her eyes.
The look was returned as steadfastly, and the fine little head poised ina manner which would have delighted an artist's soul, as Jean asked:
"Don't you know you can, Connie?"
"Yes, I do! And here is the situation: Before we came over here I triedto 'phone over to mother, but even our wire is out of order. I dare sayevery wire is, and that the trouble is in the central office, owing tothis storm. I did not tell mother because it would only alarm her, andshe may not have occasion to use the 'phone at all; I earnestly hope shewill not until it is repaired. I shall go home, but I shall not go tobed. You stay here in the Bee-hive, but don't undress, Jean; roll thiswarm rug around you and cuddle down on the couch. I know you will dropasleep, but I know you will not sleep so soundly that you will be lostto the world altogether. I shall be on the couch in the library and cansee this window from there. If Charles grows worse, or you think motheris worn out and needs me, will you flash the electric light three times?I shall know what it means and come straight over." Constance spoke veryquietly, but very earnestly.
"I'll do it. I may go to sleep, but somehow I know I shall wake up if Iam needed, Connie. Even if I am only fourteen years old I can be alittle woman, as mother so often says I am."
"I know you can, dear, and you are, Jean; even if in many ways you areyounger than most girls of your age. I don't think any of us have grownup quite so fast as the girls around us. Mother says we have not, andshe does not wish us to, because there are so many more years in whichwe must be old than in which we can be young; but I reckon we can riseto a situation when occasion demands, and, somehow, I feel that we willboth be needed to-night. Dear old Charles, he is pretty sick, I know, ormother would not look so anxious, and _such_ a night as this is. Why,Jean, we could not get a message to Dr. Black however badly we mightneed him. We must depend entirely upon ourselves."
"I wonder Champion did not come over."
"He 'phoned mother this morning, but before she got all his message theconnection broke, and, I dare say, the roads have been almostimpassable."
"Impassable roads would never keep him from coming," cried the"Champion's" champion. "There must have been something worse than theroads. I don't know what, but I know it was something," insisted Jean.
"Yes, I am sure there must have been, he is always so thoughtful forus," replied Constance, a soft light springing into her eyes as sherecalled Hadyn's unvarying kindness from the first moment she knew him."Now, good-night, honey. I hope you won't need me at all, but I know youwill be on the lookout if you do."
A moment later Constance was struggling back to the house through theblinding storm and snowdrifts. As she entered the back door the frontone opened to admit a snow-covered, panting figure, and Hadyn confrontedher.
"Great Scott! Where have you come from?" he demanded.
"I might ask the same question," panted Constance, divesting herself ofher cloak, and shaking it to free it from the snow which covered it."Get out of your coat, quick, and give it to Lilly to hang in thekitchen until it is dry. What under the sun possessed you to try to comehere to-night, you madman?"
"Under the sun? Nay, lady, neither sun nor moon. I fear you arewandering. Is it a case of blizzard-madness?" answered Hadyn, as heslipped off his big ulster and cap and gave them to the maid.
"Now, come along in here and tell me all the little mother couldn't tellme. Where is she, and where is my little sister?"
"Lilly, please bring some more logs for the library fire. Come in here,Hadyn, and I'll tell you all about it. Mother and Jean are over WithCharles and Mammy, and I'm here to mount guard over the house and maids,who, luckily, are storm-bound."
"But why on earth aren't you all here? The little mother and Jean haveno business to be anywhere else on such a villainous night. Let me goright over after them," and Hadyn turned toward the door.
"Stop! Wait! Listen to me!"
"Oh, of course, Mademoiselle la General," laughed Hadyn, as Constancelaid a detaining hand upon his arm. "I'm listening."
"Then sit down to do it and hear the whole story. When you really knowall about it you can help me; but you might as well whistle to the windout yonder as to hope to get mother back here to-night. Yes, Lilly, putthe logs in the basket, and you and Rose please stay in the kitchenuntil eleven. I will be out to speak to you when Mr. Stuyvesant goes."
"When he _does_," said Hadyn, under his breath, then louder: "It must berather satisfying to have such a flower-garden right indoors when it iswhooping things up so outside," and he nodded toward the maid justleaving the room. "If you could only have a 'Violet' and a 'Pansy,' andone or two other blossoms, you'd have a whole greenhouse."
Constance laughed outright as she answered:
"We've had wood nymphs, and some of the months--May and June, forinstance--and several jewels, to say nothing of a few royalties, sonothing will surprise us now; but Mammy seems equal to all of them puttogether. And apropos of Mammy, let me tell you all about her andCharles."
They sat down before the blazing logs while Constance told of theexperiences of the past twenty-four hours. Hadyn listened with atroubled face.
"I'd no idea it was so serious," he said, when she finished, "but I ammighty glad I came over to-night. And now you are to heed what _I_ say:you may sit here with me until eleven if you will. I'll be right glad ofyour company. _Then_ you are going upstairs to bed--_yes_, you are, too.Now, it is no use 'argifyin',' to quote Mammy. I'll stay here in thelibrary snug, warm, and as comfortable as any man could wish to be. Ishall see Jean's light if she signals, and I'll be good--yes, honest Iwill. You doubt it, I know, and you think I will sneak over yonder andbe more bother than I am worth; but I give you my word I won't. I'll doexactly as you would do if you were here alone."
Constance raised her eyes to his, and little guessed how hard it was forthe ma
n who looked into their pure, trustful depths to refrain fromholding out his arms to the girl who had grown so dear to him during thepast three and a half years.
"I'll take you at your word," she answered.
"Good. Now sit down and toast your toes before this blaze. By Jove, isthere anything like blazing logs and soft lamplight? They spell_h-o-m-e_, don't they?" and Hadyn glanced around the cosy room as thoughto him, at least, it held the sweetest elements of home a man could askfor.
Softly the little clock ticked the moments and hours away as they satthere together, talking over a hundred little happenings of the pastyears, now and then glancing over to the Bee-hive. But all was quiet. Adim light shone in Mammy's bedroom, and in the Bee-hive Jean's shadedelectric light cast a faint halo upon the snow which continued to whirlby the window, although the wind had died down a little and the stormseemed less violent. Shortly after ten Constance went out to the kitchento see that the storm-bound maids were comfortable. Cots had been placedin the laundry for them, and they were probably far better off than theywould have been in their own home.
"Now, are you sure _you_ will be comfortable?" she asked Hadyn when shereturned to the library. He glanced about the room, at the cheerful fireand the divan, with its numberless pillows, and smiled significantly."Only trouble is, I may be _too_ comfortable," he said. "But you neednot worry," as a slight shade of doubt crossed Constance's face. "Iwon't go to the Land o' Nod. But _you_ must, so good-night, little girl.Go on upstairs and sleep well. I know just what that room looks like; Ishall never forget the night you gave it up to me. If I had known it alittle sooner, I should not have let you do so, although the memory ofit has been one of the sweetest ones of my life. Good-night."
"Good-night, Hadyn, and--thank you a thousand times."
If Haydn held the slender fingers an extra moment, and looked earnestlyinto the beautiful eyes raised to his, he was hardly to be blamed.
Turning to the book shelves, he selected a book and went back to hischair before the fire. Eleven and twelve were struck by the clock on themantle shelf, but all was quiet in the little cottage at the foot of thegarden. Then came three single strokes in succession; twelve-thirty,one, one-thirty. Hadyn remembered no more. His wild struggle through thestorm earlier in the evening, the silent house, the warmth, theluxurious depth of the Morris chair had all conspired against hisresolutions, and three o'clock was striking when he started wide awakewith a sense of calamity at hand and the deepest contrition in hisheart--an hour and a half blotted out as though they had never been!