Three Little Women's Success: A Story for Girls Read online

  CHAPTER II

  THE SILENT PARTNER AND OTHERS.

  "Mother, have you seen Jean?" asked Constance, popping her head into hermother's room shortly after breakfast one glorious October morning.

  "She was here but a few moments ago, dear," answered Mrs. Carruth,looking up from her desk at which she sat writing out the marketing listfor Mammy.

  "I want her to leave this parcel at Mrs. Morgan's on her way to school,and, by the same token, she ought to be on her way there this veryminute. I wonder where she has gone?"

  "Not very far, I think. She knows she must start at once."

  Constance laughed as she replied: "I wonder if she ever will know? Timedoesn't exist for her, or perhaps I would better say that it exists onlyfor her; she so calmly takes all she wishes. But she really must startnow. I'll go hunt her up and get her headed in the right direction."

  "Yes, do, Honey," urged Mrs. Carruth, as Constance hurried away in questof the youngest member of the household.

  Mrs. Carruth resumed her writing. The past three years had dealt kindlywith her: Mammy and the daughters of the home had seen to that. Nothingcould ever alter the gentle expression of her eyes, or change the tendercurves of her lips. Each told its story of love for those nearest anddearest to her, as well as her sympathy and interest in herfellow-beings. Mrs. Carruth had passed her forty-seventh birthday, butdid not look more than thirty-eight. The hardest years of her life werethose following upon her husband's death, and the serious financiallosses she was then forced to meet. Since Constance's venture and thesuccess which had almost immediately attended it, the outlook for allhad been more hopeful, and if now living less pretentiously than she hadlived during her husband's lifetime, she was none the less comfortable.Upon Hadyn Stuyvesant's advice Mrs. Carruth had not rebuilt the oldhome, although by careful economy she could have done so. But Hadyn waslooking farther into the future than Mrs. Carruth looked. Perhaps hiswish had some bearing upon the thought, for from the moment HadynStuyvesant had met Constance Carruth _his_ future was settled so far ashe was concerned. But he was too wise to let the sixteen-year-old girlguess his feelings. The gulf between sixteen and twenty-three is a wideone. As the years advance it mysteriously narrows. At nineteen Constanceoften wondered why Hadyn seemed younger to her in his twenty-sixth yearthan he had at twenty-three. Never by look or word had he betrayed anywarmer feeling for her than the good-comradeship established at thebeginning of their acquaintance. He was like a brother in that dearhome. Mrs. Carruth consulted him freely upon all occasions. Eleanoraccepted him as a matter-of-course; that was Eleanor's way. Constancefound in him the jolliest companion. Jean adored him openly, and he washer valiant champion whenever she needed one. From the day he had takenhis first meal in her home she had been to him the "Little Sister," andhe never called her by any other name. Not long after that event she hadcoined a name for him--a funny enough one, too. Rushing into Constance'sroom in her impetuous way one day, she demanded: "Connie, when knightsused to fight for their ladies, ever ever so long ago, what did theycall them?--the knights I mean."

  "Do you mean Knight Errant?" asked Constance, looking up to smile at theeager little girl.

  "Knight Errant? Knight Errant?" repeated Jean, doubtfully. "No, somehowthat doesn't fit him. I couldn't call him that, it's too long."

  "Call whom, Jean?" Constance began to wonder what was simmering in thislittle sister's head.

  "Mr. Stuyvesant. He calls me 'Little Sister,' and I want a name forhim."

  "Do you think mother would approve of your calling him by a nickname?"

  "'Tisn't going to be a nickname; it's going to be a _love_ name for him,just like his for me is," was Jean's curious distinction.

  "Oh!" The tone did not imply deep conviction.

  "Now, Connie, you don't understand at all. You think I'm going tobe--be--, well, you don't think I'm respectful, but I _am_. I don't knowanyone that I feel more respectfuller to than Mr. Stuyvesant. He's justlovely. Only just plain Mr. Stuyvesant keeps him such a long way off,and he mustn't be. Mother has adopted him, you know, 'cause we allagreed to lend part of her to him. So I must have a homey name for him.What were the other names they gave those old knights?"

  "They were often called 'champions of their fair ladies,'" answeredConstance, slipping her arm about Jean and drawing her close to herside.

  "That's it! That just suits him, doesn't it? He was my champion the dayJabe Raulsbury turned old Baltie out to die in the road, and he has beena heap of times since when I've got into scrapes. So that's what I'mgoing to call him. He is down on the piazza talking with mother aboutthe new fence, and I'm going right straight down to ask him if I maycall him Champion," ended Jean, delighted with her new acquisition andbounding away.

  "Don't interrupt Mother," warned Constance, always a little doubtful ofthe outbreaks of the fly-away.

  Hadyn Stuyvesant had not only approved the name, but was delighted withthe idea, and vowed from thenceforth to guard his "lady fair." So"Champion" he was from that moment on, and, long as the name was, it hadclung. The three years had not lessened Jean's love for him or hisdevotion to her.

  As Constance descended the stairs in quest of Jean she met Mammy at thefoot.

  "Is yo' Ma up in her room, Baby?" she asked.

  "Yes, Mammy, and just finishing the marketing list. Have you seen Jean?It is high time she started for school."

  "Dat's de livin' truf, an' it's what I done tol' her a'reddy, but sheboun' ter go out yonder to see dat hawse."

  "Then I'm bound to go out yonder after her," laughed Constance, as sheran briskly down the hall, passed through the door which led to thepiazza and opened upon the lawn. There was no sign of Jean, butConstance crossed the velvety turf to the stable at the further side ofthe grounds, passing on her way the candy kitchen, and calling cheerilyto Mary Willing, who was already busy within: "Polly's got her kettle onfor our candee," to be promptly answered by: "Yes, and it's a-boiling,if you will come and see."

  "Good! I will be there in just a minute. I'm hunting for Jean." A momentlater she turned the corner of the stable and came upon Jean and OldBaltie.

  To say that Old Baltie had become almost human during the four yearsspent in this home conveys very little idea of the mutual understandingexisting between him and his friends, Jean and Mammy were, of course,his joint owners; but since his marriage to Mammy, Charles also claimedownership. No one would have recognized the old horse for the onerescued by Jean. His coat was now as sleek as satin, his old body roundand plump, his manners those of a thoroughly spoiled thoroughbred horse.It had not required all the four years spent with the Carruths to blotout the effects of Jabe's harsh treatment, or to revive in Baltie thememory of his earlier days as Grandfather Raulsbury's pet. The intervalin which he had fallen upon evil days had vanished as an ugly dream, andwith nobility's inherent qualities, whether manifested in man or beast,he had dismissed the memory, risen above it, and with all of hisnoblesse oblige was helping others to do likewise.

  His wonderfully attuned ears were quick to catch the sound ofConstance's footfalls upon the soft turf, and he greeted her with astifled nicker, for his position made a gentlemanly greeting well-nighimpossible: he was lying at full length upon a bed of sweet clover, hishead in Jean's lap. These two were never in the positions or situationsof their kind if they could possibly achieve others.

  "Hello!" called Jean, glancing up from pressing her cheek against onelarge satiny ear which she held against it.

  "Thought I'd find you here, Honey; but I've got to hustle you off toschool. Do you know what time it is?"

  "Only half-past eight, and we're having a beau-ti-ful time, aren't we,Baltie, dear?"

  "Hoo-hoo-hoo!" fluttered the delicate nostrils. Constance dropped downbeside Jean and ran her hand along the warm, sleek neck. Another nickeracknowledged the caress, but the great horse did not stir. The clearmorning sunshine flooded the paddock, Baltie's little kingdom, andfiltered through the gorgeous sugar maples overhead. The air was clearand crisp
, the ground dry as though night dews were unknown. Off at theedge of the paddock a cricket shrilled his monotonous little song of thecoming winter--a snug stable for the old horse and a warm fireside forhis friends.

  "You really must go now, dear," urged Constance, rising to her feetafter a final caress.

  "Oh, dear, and he is so big and so warm and so soft and so good,"protested Jean. "But I s'pose I must. Come, Baltie, you've got to getup. Now! All together!" and placing her arms beneath the great neck Jeangave the preliminary heave-ho! necessary to start the old horse. Fouryears before it would have been impossible for him to get to his feet,but, as Mammy insisted:

  "Charles Devon hadn't been Massa Stark's groom fer nothin'," and sheherself was a master hand at "mashargin" (Mammy's pronunciation ofmassaging), a course of treatment to which Baltie had been mostvigorously subjected, to the wonderful rejuvenation of his old bones andmuscles.

  A horse, even in his most nimble days of colthood, does not rise from aprone position with any great degree of grace; yet Baltie might havegiven points to some of his younger brethren. Up came his head, theslender forefeet were braced, there was a mighty heave and hoist, andBaltie stood upon all-fours, shaking clover leaves from his flanks.

  "Now fly, Jean! Be sure to take the parcel for Mrs. Morgan. I'll stop amoment with Baltie to make your peace for your abrupt departure," saidConstance, gayly, well knowing that Jean's leave-taking from her pet wasusually a prolonged ceremony.

  Away hurried the little girl, leaving the older sister to spend theensuing five minutes with the old horse, who nozzled and fussed overher, as only a petted horse knows how.

  "Now, old silent partner, I must run away and look after my forewomanand get busy myself. Goodness, how the Carruth family is developing!Eleanor already offered a position at Sunnymeade for next fall, myhumble self a full-fledged business woman with a flourishing trade; Jeanjunior partner with a private following of her own, and you, you dear,blind, faithful old creature, setting us all an example of faithfulnessand devotion; Mammy and Charles the biggest hit of the wholeestablishment with their lunch counter, and yonder the little girl whomMother has made over brand new! No wonder I'm proud; no wonder I'msometimes afraid my head will be turned by all our good fortune andsuccess. Keep me headed right, Baltie. If you, without sight, can steera straight course, surely I, with both my eyes to the good, ought to beable to. Good-bye, dear," and clasping her arms around the sleek, warmneck, Constance stood perfectly still for a moment or two, her headpillowed upon the silky mane, her thoughts traveling rapidly back acrossthe intervening years--years so full of effort, anxiety, hope,disappointment, love and faith. The one which was beginning with thisOctober--for it was in October that she had begun her work four yearsbefore--was bidding fair to prove a crisis in all their lives.Instinctively the girl felt this. Girl in years, yes, but a little womanin executive ability, foresight and execution, withal, still sweet andtrue, and retaining her faith in her fellow-beings. Never had she lookedlovelier than at this moment standing there in the glorious Octobersunlight, her arms clasped about the big bay horse, her eyes shiningwith hope, health, courage, her cheeks glowing. She was dressed for hermorning's work, her gown a simple tan-colored linen with white collar,cuffs and belt, a soft tie of brown silk at her throat. She was good tolook at this girl of nineteen, as she stood with such unstudied grace,the very personification of hope. Presently, with a little start, shecame back to a realization of things around her, and with a partingcaress for the blind horse ran lightly from the paddock across the lawnto the little candy kitchen, and entered with a cheery greeting.