Part 6 (1/2)

Catherine sighed. The library was to be cleaned that morning as soon as the girls could be spared by their respective mothers. She had been waiting for Algernon to bring the key, and had counted on his muscular a.s.sistance in the labor before her. Now, instead, she had only the key, and that almost as hopelessly affixed to Elsmere as it had been before she cut it loose. She took up her bundle of rags, scrubbing-brush and soap resignedly, and calling ”Good-by” to Dr. Helen started off down the hill. On the way she stopped for Agnes, who came out with a broom.

Polly, bearing a pail, met them at the corner. At the library they found Bertha, mop-laden, pressing her nose against the pane to see inside.

”h.e.l.lo!” she called to them. ”How can we get hot water?”

”Let's go over to Henderson's and borrow a little oil stove for a few hours, and we'll heat the water in this pail. One of you might go to the pump in the park and get it full now. Whose broom?” touching one, leaning by the window.

”Dot's. She came and went off again. Bert pa.s.sed, driving a ten-cent express and she hailed him and they've gone over to Mr. Kittredge's to get the books he promised.”

”The crazy children! Where will we ever put books to-day, with the room in such a state?”

Catherine fitted the key to the lock, and the band of cleaners entered, unrolled their big ap.r.o.ns and began, with much energy and good nature, to sweep down the walls and ceiling and gather the milliner's rubbish into two big baskets found in the shed. Elsmere picked over the pile, making rapturous discoveries.

”Aren't these very small bushel baskets?” asked Agnes. ”They fill up so fast.”

”They're just about the average size, I think,” remarked Catherine.

”They don't vary much more than yardsticks do in length! But I do wish some of those lazy boys were here to carry them out and empty them for us.”

”What's that?” asked Max's voice in the doorway. Immaculate in white flannels, with Bess by his side, bewilderingly beruffled, he viewed the scene before him dispa.s.sionately.

Catherine and Agnes, red and warm and somewhat dishevelled, returned the gaze for a moment silently. In that moment an entirely natural resentment was forced into outward pleasantness.

”We were just wis.h.i.+ng some one was here to make a bonfire of this _debris_ for us,” said Catherine cheerfully, ”but never mind. There comes Polly with a man from Henderson's, and he'll take it out.”

”All right. Wish you luck. We'd stop and help, only we've got to meet Arch and Win, and we're late already. So long!” and Max lifted his cap, Bess waved her sunshade, and the two went around the corner out of sight.

The man from Henderson's did some lifting very willingly, rescued what was left of the water Bertha was tugging from the park, lighted the stove and even stayed to poke the bonfire he made for them in the street, and keep it from spreading.

”It's a good thing,” he said, as he went away amid a chorus of ”Thank you.” ”Everybody'd ought to help all they can.”

”I'd like to make him a member of the club,” growled Polly, ”and turn one or two people I could mention out.”

”Dorcas doesn't seem so zealous as she did yesterday,” remarked Catherine. ”I hope she isn't angry, because we didn't fall in with her suggestions.”

Bertha looked conscious, and stole a glance at Agnes, but said nothing.

Catherine, catching the look, laughed.

”Father says Dorcas does us all a lot of good, as a counter-irritant.

Whenever we begin to feel a little cross with each other, we all turn in and feel very cross with Dorcas. I was simply raging when Max and Bess sailed by in their purple and fine linen, but at least they hadn't pretended to be interested, and Dorcas--”

”She may be busy,” said Agnes. ”There's a lot of work at their house, and Dorcas usually does her share. I'll say that much for her, though she does make me awfully angry sometimes. Where is Elsmere? He might go over to the store and get something to polish this window-gla.s.s with.”

”I don't know. Elsmere! Elsmere! Where are you? Come here, dear.” No response.

”O, never mind,” sighed Catherine wearily. ”I'm not responsible for him.

It is a relief to have him out of the way for a while. I wanted to send him home before, but he had such a sweet lady-like way with him this morning, I couldn't bring myself to. Girls! Hark!”

The four laborers had dropped upon a long box to rest a few minutes from their toil. Their low voices had been the only sound. Now distinctly, in a remote corner of the room, could be heard a little scratch, scratch.

Then across the floor, serene and fearless, ”right where I had been sweeping,” Catherine said later with a s.h.i.+ver, ran a small gray mouse.