"Miss Jinny, is dat de solemn prar-book truf?"

"It surely is Mammy. We are not quite so degenerate as you think us,"

answered Mrs. Carruth soberly, although her eyes twinkled in spite of her.

"Well! Well! Jes so; Jes so. I sutin'ly is behine de times. I speck I ain' unnerstan dese yer new-fangled wo'ds no mor'n I unnerstan de new-fangled stoves. If coachin' done tu'ned ter meanin' school marmin'

I hatter give up. Now go on wid yo' talkin': I gwine tek a back seat an' listen twell I knows sumpin'," and, wagging her head doubtingly, Mammy went back to her ha.s.sock.

"Well _two_ of us have settled upon our plan of action, now what are _you_ going to do, Connie? You said you were determined to make your venture a paying one. What is your plan?" asked Eleanor, turning to Constance, who thus far had said very little.

"I can't tell you right now. I've had so many plans simmering since I began to make my candy, but Mammy has always set the kettle on the back part of the stove just as it began to boil nicely, haven't you Mammy?" asked Constance, smiling into Mammy's face.

"'Specs I's 'sponsuble fer a heap o' unbiled kittles, dough hits kase I hates p'intedly ter see de Blairsdales fixin' ter bu'n dey han's,"

was the good soul's answer.

"Our hands can stand a few burns in a good cause, Mammy, so don't worry about it. We're healthy and they'll heal quickly," was Constance's cheerful reply.

"Mebbe so," said Mammy skeptically.

"Seriously, Constance, what have you thought of doing, dear?" asked Mrs. Carruth, a tender note coming into her voice for this daughter who had been the first to put her shoulder to the wheel for them all.

"Well, you let me answer that question day after to-morrow, Mumsey?

Or, perhaps, it may take even a little longer. But I'll tell you all about my simmering ideas when I have had time to make a few inquiries.

Don't grow alarmed, Mammy; I'm not going to apply for a position as motor-girl on a trolley car," said Constance, as she laughingly nodded at Mammy.

"Aint nothin' ever gwine 'larm me no mo', I reckons. Speck some day I fin' dat chile stanin' down yonder on de cawner sellin' candy an'

stuff. Mought mos' anyt'ing happen," answered Mammy, as she rose from her ha.s.sock. "Well, if _yo'_-all gwine go inter bisness, I specs _I_ gotter too, so don' be 'sprised ef yo' see me. Now I'se gwine ter get a supper dat's fitten fer ter _eat_; dat lunch weren't nothin' but a disgrace ter de hull fambly," and off she hurried to the kitchen to prepare a supper that many would have journeyed far to eat.

"Children," said Mrs. Carruth, as Mammy disappeared, "whatever comes we must try to keep together. We can meet almost any difficulty if we are not separated, but _that_ would nearly break my heart, I believe; father so loved our home and the companionship of his family, that I shall do my utmost to keep it as he wished. We may be deprived of the major portion of our income, and find the path rather a stony one for a while, but we have each other, and the affection which began more than twenty years ago, when I came North to make my home has grown deeper as the years have pa.s.sed. Each new little form in my arms made it stronger, and the fact that father is no longer here to share the joys or sorrows with us can never alter it. In one sense he is always with us. His love for us is manifested on every hand. We will face the situation bravely and try to remember that never mind what comes, we have each other, and his 'three little women,' as he used to love to call you, are worthy of that beautiful name. He was very proud of his girls and used to build beautiful 'castles in Spain' for them. If he could only have been spared to realize them." Mrs. Carruth could say no more. The day had been a trying one for her, and strength and voice failed together as she dropped upon a settee and the girls gathered about her. Jean with her head in her lap as she clasped her arms around her; Eleanor holding her hands, and Constance, who had slipped behind the settee, with the tired head clasped against her breast and her lips pressed upon the pretty hair with its streaks of gray.

For a few moments there was no sound in the room save Mrs. Carruth's rapidly drawn breaths as she strove to control her feelings. She rarely gave way in the presence of her children, but they knew how hard it was for her to maintain such self-control. It was very sweet to feel the strength of the young arms about her, and the presence of the vigorous young lives so ready to be up and doing for her sake.

"Come up-stairs and rest a while before supper," said Constance, softly. "Will you? Do, please. We'll be your handmaidens."

"Yes do, Mumsey, dear. I'll tuck you all up 'snug as a bug in a rug,'"

urged Jean.

"And I'll go make you a cup of tea just as you love it," added Eleanor hurrying from the room. As Mrs. Carruth rose from the settee Constance slipped her strong arm about her to lead her up to her own room, Jean running on ahead to arrange the couch pillows comfortably. Presently Mrs. Carruth was settled in her nest with Jean upon a low ha.s.sock, at her feet, patting them to make her "go byelow," she said. In a few moments Eleanor came back with a dainty little tray and tea service, which she set upon the taborette Constance had placed for it, and proceeded to feed her mother as she would have fed an invalid.

"Do you want to quite spoil me?" asked Mrs. Carruth, from her nest of pillows.

"Not a bit of it! We only want to make you realize how precious you are, don't you understand?" said Eleanor, kissing her mother's forehead. "There! That is the last bite of cracker and the last drop of tea. Now take 'forty winks' and be as fresh as a daisy for supper.

Come on, Jean, let Mumsey go to sleep."

"Oh, please let me stay here cuddling her feet. I'll be just as quiet as a mouse," begged Jean.

"Please _all_ stay; and Connie, darling, whistle me to the land o'

nod," said Mrs. Carruth, slipping one hand into Constance's and holding the other to Eleanor, who dropped down upon the floor and rested her cheek against it as she nestled close to the couch.

Only the flickering flames of the logs blazing upon the andirons, lighted the room as the birdlike notes began to issue from the girl's lips. She whistled an air from the Burgomeister, its pretty melody rippling through the room like a thrush's notes.

Presently Mrs. Carruth's eyelids drooped and, utterly wearied by the day's exciting events, she slipped into dreamland upon the sweet melody.

CHAPTER XVIII

"Save Me From My Friends"

"Miss Jinny! Miss Jinny! Wait a minit. Dar's a man yander at de back do' dat wants fer ter ax yo' sumpin' he say," called Mammy, as she hurried through the hall just as Mrs. Carruth was leaving the house upon the following Monday morning.

"What is it, Mammy?" asked Mrs. Carruth, pausing.

"He say he want ter see yo' pintedly."

Mrs. Carruth retraced her steps and upon reaching the back porch found Mr. Pringle waiting to see her.

"Hope I haven't delayed you, Mrs. Carruth, but I wanted to see you on a matter of business which might help both of us, you see. Ah, I thought--I thought mebbe you'd like to hear of it."

"I certainly should like to if it is to my advantage, Mr. Pringle,"

replied Mrs. Carruth, with a pleasant smile for the livery stable keeper, who stood self-consciously twirling his cap.

"Yes, ma'am. I thought so, ma'am. Well it's this: Your stable, ma'am, up at the old place, are you usin' it at all?"

"Not as a stable. It is more like a storehouse just now, for many things saved from the fire are stored there."

"Could you put them somewhere else and rent the stable to me, ma'am?

I'm much put to it to find room for my boarding horses, and the carriages; my place is not big, and I thought could I rent your stable I'd keep most of my boarding horses up there; it's nearer to their owners you see, ma'am."

Mrs. Carruth thought a moment before replying.

"I shall have to think over your proposal, Mr. Pringle. There is a great deal of stuff stored in the stable and I am at a loss to know what we could do with it. However, I will let you know in a day or two if that will answer."

"Take your own time, ma'am. Take your own time. There's no hurry at all. I'll call round about Thursday and you can let me know. I'd be willing to pay twenty-five dollars a month for it, ma'am."

Pringle did not add that the step had been suggested to him by Hadyn Stuyvesant, or that he had also set the figure.

When they were all gathered in the pleasant living-room that evening, she spoke of the matter, ending with the question:

"But _where_ can we put all that furniture? _This_ house will not hold another stick I'm afraid; we are crowded enough as it is."

For a few moments no one had a suggestion to offer, then Constance cried:

"Mother couldn't we _sell_ a good many of the things? People do that you know. The Boyntons did when they left Riveredge."

"Yes, they had a private sale and disposed of many things. They advertised for weeks. I am afraid that would delay things too much."

"Why not have an auction then? _That_ moves quickly enough. The things go or they _don't_ go, and that is the end of it."