Aunt Crete's Emancipation (9 page)

Thus by devious and back ways they descended to a late breakfast, and scuttled up again without being molested.

Luella wrote the note on her card as her mother dictated, and a small boy all brass buttons was
despatched
with careful directions; and then the two retired behind their ramparts, and waited.

Time went by, until half an hour had elapsed since they came back from breakfast. They had listened anxiously to every footfall in the hall, and part of the time Luella kept the door open a crack with her ear to it. Their nerves were all in a quiver. When the
chambermaid
arrived, they were fairly feverish to get her out of the way. If Aunt Crete should come while she was in the room, it might get all over the hotel what kind of relatives they had.

Mrs. Burton suggested to the
chambermaid
that she leave their room till last, as they wanted to write some letters before going out; but the maid declared she must do the room at once or not at all. The elevator slid up and down around the corner in the next hall. They heard a footfall now and then, but none that sounded like
Aunt Crete's
. They rang again for the
office-boy
, who declared he had delivered the message in the second floor, front, and that the lady and gentleman were both in and said, "All right." He vanished impudently without waiting for Luella's probing questions, and they looked at each other in anxiety and indignation.

"It is too mean, ma, to lose this whole morning. I wanted to go in bathing," complained Luella, "and now no telling how long I'll have to stick in this dull room. I wish Aunt Crete
was
in Halifax. Why couldn't I have had some nice
relatives
like that lovely old gray-silk lady and her son?"

Just
then
the elevator clanged open and shut, and steps came down the hall. It certainly was not Aunt Crete. Luella flew to the door at the first tap; and there, submerged in a sheaf of American Beauty roses, stood the functionary from the lower floor, with a less pompous manner than he had worn before. The roses had caused his respect for the occupants of the fourth floor, back, to rise several degrees.

Luella stood speechless in wonder, looking first at the roses and then at the servant. Such roses had never come into her life before. Could it be —must it be—but a miserable mistake?

Then the servant spoke.

"Miss Ward sends de flowers, an' is sorry de ladies
ain't
well. She send her regrets, an' says she can't come to see de ladies 'count of a drive she'd promised to take to-day, in which she'd hoped to have de ladies'
comp'ny
. She hopes de ladies be better
dis
even'n
'."

He was gone, and the mother and daughter faced each other over the roses, bewilderment and awe in their faces.

"What
did he say, Luella?
Who
sent those roses? Miss
Ward?
Luella,
there's
some mistake. Aunt Crete
couldn't
have sent them. She
wouldn't
dare!
Besides, where would she get the money?
It's
perfectly impossible. It
can't
be Aunt Crete, after all. It must be
some one
else with the same name. Perhaps Donald has picked up some one here in the hotel; you
can't
tell; or perhaps it isn't our Donald at all.
It's
likely there's other Donald Grants in the world. What we ought to have done was to go down at once and find out, and not skulk in a corner.
But
you're always in such a hurry to do something, Luella.
There's
no telling at all who this is now. It might be those folks you admired so much, though what on earth they should have sent their cards to us for—and those lovely roses—I'm sure I don't know."

"Now, ma, you needn't blame me. It was you proposed sending that note down; you know it was, mother; and of
course
I had to do what you said. I was so
upset,
anyway, I didn't know what was what.
But now
, you see, perhaps you've cut me out of a lovely day. We might have gone on a ride with them."

"Luella," her mother broke in sharply, "if you talk another word like that, I'll take the next train back home. You
don't
know what you are talking about. It may be Aunt Crete, after all, and a country cousin for all you know; and, if it is, would you have wanted to go driving in the face of the whole hotel, with like as not some old shin
-
and-bones horse and a broken-down carriage?"

Luella
was silenced
for the time, and the room
settled into gloomy meditation.

CHAPTER VI

AN EMBARRASSING MEETING

Meantime Aunt Crete in the whitest of her white was settling herself comfortably on the gray cushions of the fringed phaeton again, relief and joy mingled in her countenance. It was not that she was glad that Carrie's ankle was so bad, but that she was to have another short reprieve before her pleasure
was cut off
.
Soon enough, she thought, would she be destined to sit in the darkened room and minister to her fussy sister, while Luella took her place in the carriages and automobiles with her handsome young cousin, as young folks should do, of course; but O, it was good, good, that a tired old lady, who had worked hard all her life, could yet have had this bit of a glimpse of the brighter side of life before she died.

It would be something to sit and think over as she scraped potatoes for dinner, or picked over blackberries for jam, or patiently sewed on Val lace for Luella. It would be an event to date from, and she could fancy herself mildly saying to Mrs. Judge Waters, when she sat beside her some time at missionary meeting, if she ever did again, "When my nephew took me down to the
shore," etc. She never knew just what to talk about when she sat beside Mrs. Judge Waters, but here was a topic worth
laying
before such a great lady.

Well, it was something to be thankful for, and she resolved she just would not think of poor Carrie and Luella until her beautiful morning was over. Then she would show such patience and gratitude as would fully make up to them for her one more day of pleasure.

It was Donald, of course, who had suggested the roses. When the message came from the fourth floor back, Aunt Crete had turned white about the mouth, and her eyes had taken on a frightened, hunted look, while the double V in her forehead flashed into sight for the first time since they had reached the Atlantic coast. He saw at once in what terror Aunt Crete held her sister and niece, and his indignation arose in true Christian fashion.
He resolved to place some nice hot coals on the heads of his unpleasant relatives, and run away with dear Aunt Crete again; hence the roses and the message, and Aunt Crete was fairly childish with pleasure over them when he finally persuaded her that it would be all right to send these
in place of going up herself as she had been bidden.

She listened eagerly as Donald gave careful directions for the message, and the stately functionary respectfully repeated the words with his own high-sounding inflection. It made the pink come and go again in Aunt Crete's cheeks, and she felt that Luella and Carrie could not be angry with her after these roses, and especially when everything was being done up in so nice, stylish a manner.

The drive was one long dream of bliss to Aunt Crete. They went miles up the coast, and took lunch at a hotel much grander than the one they had left, so that when they returned in the afternoon Aunt Crete felt much less awe of the
Traymore
, her experience in hotels having broadened. They also met some friends of Donald's, a professor from his alma mater, who with his wife was just returning from a trip to Europe.

The bathers were making merry in the waves as they returned, and Aunt Crete's wistful look made Donald ask whether she felt too tired to take another dip, but she declared she was not one bit tired.

She came from her bath with shining eyes and triumphant mien. Whatever happened now, she had been in bathing twice. She felt like quite an experienced bather, and she could dream of that wonderful experience of
being lifted
high above the swells in Donald's strong young arms.

She obediently took her nap, and surrendered herself to the hands of the
maid
to have the finishing touches put to her toilet. It was the soft gray voile that she elected to wear to-night, and Donald admired her when she emerged from her room in the dress, looking every inch a
lady
.

A knock sounded at the door before he had had time to give Aunt Crete a word of his admiration; but his eyes had said enough, and she felt a glow of humble pride in her new self, the self that he had created out of what she had always considered an unusually plain old woman. With the consciousness of her becoming attire upon
her
she turned with mild curiosity to see who had knocked; and, behold, her sister and niece stood before her!

The day
had been passed
by them in melancholy speculations and the making and abandoning of many plans of procedure. After careful deliberation they at last concluded that there was nothing to be done but go down and find out who these people really were, and if possible allay the ghost of their fears and set themselves free from their dull little room.

"If it should be Aunt Crete and Donald, we'll just settle them up and send them off at once, won't me, mother?"

"Certainly," said Mrs. Burton with an angry snap to her eyes. "Trust me to settle with your Aunt Crete if it's really her.
But
I can't think it is. It
isn't
like Crete one bit to leave her duty.
She's got
a lot of work to do, and she never leaves her work till it's done. It must be
some one
else.
What if it should be those folks you admire so much?
I've
been thinking. We had some New York cousins by the name of Ward. It might be one of them,
and Donald
might have gone to them first, and they've brought him down here. I
can't
think he's very much, though.
But
we'll just hope for the best, anyway, till we find out. If
it's
Aunt Crete, I shall simply talk to her till she is brought to her senses, and make her understand that she's got to go right home. I'll tell her how she's mortifying you, and spoiling your chances of a good match, perhaps
---
"

"O ma!" giggled Luella in admiration.

"I'll tell her she must tell Donald she's got to
go right home, that the sea air don't agree with her one bit—it goes to her head or something like that; and then we'll make him feel it wouldn't be gallant in him not to take her home.
That's
easy enough, if 'tis them."

"But ma, have you thought ab
out your sprained ankle?
How '
ll
they think you got over so quick?
S'posing
it shouldn't be Aunt Crete."

"Well, I'll tell her the
swelling's
gone down, and all of a sudden something seemed to slip back into place again, and I'm all right."

This was while they were buttoning and hooking each other into their best and most elaborate garments for the peradventure that the people they were to meet might prove to be of patrician class.

They had been somewhat puzzled how to find their possible relatives after they were attired for the advance on the enemy, but consultation with the functionary in the office showed them that, whoever Miss Ward and Donald Grant might be, they surely were at present occupying the apartments on the second floor front.

For one strenuous moment after the elevator had left them before the door of the private parlor they had carefully surveyed each other, fastening a stubborn hook here, putting up a stray rebellious lock there,
patting
a puff into subordination. Mrs. Burton was arrayed in an elaborate tucked and puffed and
belaced
lavender muslin whose laborious design had been attained through hours of the long winter evenings past. Luella wore what she considered her most "fetching" garment, a long, scant, high-
waisted
robe of fire-red crape, with nothing to relieve its glare, reflected in staring hues in her already much-burned nose and cheeks. Her hair had been in preparation all the afternoon, and looked as if it was carved in waves and puffs out of black walnut, so closely was it beset with that most noticeable of all invisible devices, an invisible net.

They entered, and stood face to face with the wonderful lady in the gray gown,
whose
every line and graceful fold spoke of the skill of a foreign tailor.
And then
, strange to say, it was Aunt Crete who came to herself first.