Part 11 (2/2)

”It saves the house if you can do most of your work in the open,” Mrs.

Buck had said.

Judith had stretched a hammock across the corner of the porch, and now she was allowing herself to relax for awhile before going to bed. She pushed herself gently to and fro with one slender foot on the porch floor, and looked out dreamily over the fields flooded with moonlight--fields bought by her grandfather Knight from her grandfather Buck, inherited by him from his father, who had inherited from his father. Each generation had done what it could to impoverish the land and never to improve it. Now it was up to her, nothing but a slip of a girl nineteen years old, to buy guano and bring the land back to its original value.

”Ho, hum! If Grandfather Buck hadn't wasted so much and Grandfather Knight hadn't saved so much I could put my earnings in a new georgette dress to wear to the old men's debut ball,” she sighed.

A few vehicles pa.s.sed the house--now an old-fas.h.i.+oned buggy, now a stylish touring car--each one leaving a trailing cloud of limestone dust.

”Listen, Judith, I heard the gate click.”

”Nothing but an owl clucking, Mumsy. I heard it, too, but n.o.body would be coming to see us this time of night.”

”It might be some young beaux coming to see you,” suggested Mrs. Buck.

”You'd have plenty of them if you weren't so--so--businesslike.”

Judith laughed merrily. ”Well, I reckon they'd come anyhow if they wanted to, but I must say, Mumsy, I'm kind of sn.o.bbish about your so-called beaux. I might like the boys if they would only stop being so silly and understand that I'm a human being with a mind and soul. I reckon I've always been too busy to play much with the boys around Ryeville. The old men like me though.”

”That's not getting anywhere,” complained Mrs. Buck, who frankly hoped for a husband for her daughter, although her own matrimonial venture had not been any too successful.

”That was a knock!” insisted the mother a moment later. Judith jumped up from the hammock. ”I'll go outside and see who it is.”

”Indeed you won't! If it's callers you've got to receive them in the house. Just light the lamp in the parlor and then open the door. I ain't fit to see anybody so I won't go in.”

Judith did as her mother directed, lit the lamp in the parlor and then cautiously opened the door. n.o.body was there, but a large dress box was leaning against the door and fell into the hall when the door was opened. The girl picked it up and carried it into the parlor.

”Mumsy! Come quick! I don't know what it is but it isn't a beau. Never mind your dress, but just come!”

The string was broken by eager young hands, although Mrs. Buck begged to be allowed to pick out the knots. The top of the box was s.n.a.t.c.hed off, disclosing much white tissue paper with a folded note pinned in the center.

”It must be flowers,” cried Judith. ”I'm so excited I can't make up my mind to take off the wrappings.

”Well, read the note! It's addressed to you,” said Mrs. Buck.

”It says: 'To Miss Judith Buck, from her old fairy G.o.d-fathers.' Oh, Mumsy, my old men are sending me some flowers, to wear to the ball, I guess. I'll clip the stems to keep them fresh.”

”Well, why don't you open 'em up?”

Layer by layer Judith removed the tissue paper. At last the precious contents of the box were revealed--a white chiffon dress, delicately broidered with tiny gold beads, with a twisted girdle of blue with cloth of gold, a dainty blue comb set with brilliants. In a separate wrapper at one end of the box, gold slippers and stockings were discovered.

”Oh, Mumsy! I'm going to cry,” and Judith did shed a few tears and sob a few sobs.

”Surely you are not going to accept clothes from any man, Judith.”

Mrs. Buck's tone was stern and disapproving.

”Of course not from any one man, but this is from about ten men--the dear old men who are giving the ball! I wouldn't be so mean as not to accept this gift. What's more, I'm going to try the things on this minute. Look! There's even a silk slip to wear under it. Whoever bought this outfit knew how to buy. Mumsy, Mumsy! The slippers fit.

Oh, I'm a real Cinderella, but the best thing about it is that the old men must truly love me, the dears.”

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