Part 22 (1/2)
”No, Baltie belongs to you and Mammy. By-the-way, how did you get on at the school to-day? You haven't told me yet.”
”Just _splendiferous_! The boys bought every bit I took; I mean every bit that was _left_ after Professor Forbes got all _he_ wanted. He was at the gate when I drove up, and what do you think he did? Made me stop until he had bought six packages of fudge and six packages of pralines, and then made me promise always to save them for him. My goodness if that man doesn't have _one_ stomachache,” ended this sage young lady speaking from bitter experiences of her own.
”Jean!” cried Eleanor.
”Well, it's true. Twelve whole packages of candy all for _himself_, greedy old thing! And he asked me if I couldn't come _twice_ a week. I told him I guessed not, and if he wanted it oftener than once a week he'd have to come after it. And he said that was precisely what he _would_ do, and to ask my sister to please to have twelve packages for him on Wednesday afternoon. _That_ man's teeth will need a dentist just you see if they don't,” ended Jean with an ominous wag of the head for the sweet-toothed professor, while the rest of the family shrieked with laughter.
”What do _you_ suggest for my boxes, mother?” asked Constance, when the laugh had subsided.
”How about little white moire paper boxes with some pretty flower on the cover?”
”Pretty, but not very distinctive I'm afraid,” said Constance, doubtfully.
”How about those pretty j.a.panese boxes they have at Bailey's?”
ventured Eleanor.
”Still less distinctive. No; I must have some design that suggests _me_. Don't think me conceited, but I want people to know that the candy is made and sold by a school-girl, who cannot be there to look after her counter, and must trust to their honesty. I've got an idea about my _sign_, but, somehow, I don't seem to be able to get one that is worth a straw for the boxes, yet I've been thinking as hard as I could think.”
”Wait a minit, Baby,” said Mammy, and hurried from the room. She came back in about ten minutes holding a small box in her hand. Placing it upon the table before Constance, she said: ”Now, Honey, mebbe dis yere idee ob mine ain' nothin' in de worl' but foolishness, but seems ter me ef yo' want distincshumness you's got hit _dar_. I ain' half lak ter let yo' _do_ hit, but dey's _yo'_ candies, so I spec' yo' might as well let folks unnerstan' hit.”
The box was one which Jean had given Mammy the previous Christmas. It was made of white moire paper with a small medallion in gilt in the left-hand upper corner, the medallion being in the shape of a little gold frame formed of gold beads. Originally there had been a colored picture of Santa Claus's face within it, but over this Mammy had carefully pasted a small photo of Constance; one taken several years before. In the center of the box was written in gold script ”Merry Christmas,” and just beneath that the word ”bonbons.”
”Couldn't you have yo' name whar de Merry Christmas stan' at an'
'candies' whar de bong bongs is?” asked Mammy.
”Mammy, you old dear!” cried Constance, springing to her feet to throw her arms about the wise old creature. ”You've hit it exactly. Why I couldn't have anything better if I thought for a whole year. I'll have some pictures taken right off and the boxes shall be just exactly like this. Hurrah for 'Constance B.'s Candies!' Come on Mammy, we've got to celebrate the brilliant idea!” and catching the astonished old woman by the arms, Constance whirled her off on a lively two-step, whistling the accompaniment, while Mammy cried:
”Gawd bress my soul, is yo' gone stark crazy, chile!” and at length broke away to vanish protesting within the privacy of her kitchen.
CHAPTER XXII
First Steps
During the ensuing week it would have been hard to find a busier household than the Carruths'. Instead of telephoning to Mr. Porter on Monday morning, as he had suggested, Constance wrote a long letter Sat.u.r.day evening, giving accurate directions for the boxes, and enclosing a paper design to be sent to the manufacturers.
The letter reached him by the early mail, causing him to exclaim: ”George, what a level little head she _has_ got! She shall have those boxes before next Sat.u.r.day, if I have to go after them myself. Why the idea is simply great!”
Going to his 'phone he called up Mrs. Carruth's home. Constance had already gone to school, but Mrs. Carruth answered the 'phone. She was quite as delighted as Constance would have been, and promised to deliver the message to her upon her return. When she heard it Constance's cheeks glowed.
”Isn't he a _dear_, mother, to take so much trouble for me? And now I must get _busy, busy, busy_. I've pounds and pounds of candy to make between this and Sat.u.r.day, and I must make it afternoons.”
”I can not bear to think of you doing this, dear,” said Mrs. Carruth, laying her hand tenderly upon the soft brown hair.
”Why not, I'd like to know?” cried Constance.
”Because it takes the time you should spend in outdoor exercise. You work hard in school, and that has always seemed to me to be quite enough for any girl to undertake. Yet here you and Eleanor are about to give up your afternoons for this work and the coaching.”
Mrs. Carruth sighed, for it was hard for her to adjust herself to the new order of things in her family. Raised upon a large plantation, where she, the only daughter, was her father's idol, for whom everything must be done, and whose every wish must be considered, she shrank from the thought of her girls laboring for their daily bread, or stepping out into the world beyond their own thresholds. Her father would have felt that the world was about to cease revolving had _she_ been obliged to take such a step. Indeed it would have quite broken his heart, for never had any woman of _his_ household been forced to do aught toward her own maintenance. But times had changed since Reginald Blairsdale had been laid away in the little burial plot upon the plantation, where his wife had slept for so many years, and his daughter had lived to see many changes take place which would have outraged all his traditions.
”Now, mother, _please_ listen to me,” said Constance, earnestly, as she slipped her arm about her mother's waist. ”I am _not_ going to give up all my afternoons, and neither is Eleanor. As to the exercise, we each have a pretty long walk to and from school mornings and afternoons, and, in addition to that, Eleanor will go to her pupils'