Part 8 (1/2)

We ran out the great back door which opened on the formal garden.

”My, I'm glad we waked! I was nearly dead to sit up all night,” said Dum.

”Me, too! Mary and I were awake very late. Did you hear anything?”

”Did I!”

”What did you hear?”

”A strange scratching along the wall,--I thought it was a whole lot of snakes climbing up to our window. There is only one thing in the world I am afraid of, and that is snakes.”

”Mammy Susan says that 'endurin' of the war, they is sho' to be mo'

snakes than in peaceable times.' Of course she has no idea that this war is away off across the water, and if it were inclined to breed snakes, it wouldn't breed them over here. But that snake you heard last night was Mary Flannagan scaling the wall. She is practicing all the time for the movies.”

”Pig, not to call us!”

”I was dying to, but was afraid of raising too much rumpus.”

The garden was beautiful at all times, but at that early hour it was so lovely it made us gasp. A row of stately hollyhocks separated the flower garden from the vegetables. Banked against the hollyhocks were all kinds of old-fas.h.i.+oned garden flowers: bachelor's b.u.t.tons, wall-flowers, pretty-by-nights, love-in-a-mist, heliotrope, verbena, etc. There was a thick border of periwinkle whose glossy dark green leaves enhanced the brilliancy of the plants beyond. One great strip was given up entirely to roses,--and such roses!

”Gee! This is the life!” cried Dum, kneeling down among the roses, going kind of mad as usual over the riot of color. Dum's love of color and form amounted to a pa.s.sion. ”Only look at the shape of this bud and at the color way down in its heart. Oh, Page, I am so glad we came out!

Only think, this rosebud might have opened and withered with not a soul seeing it if we had not happened along:

”'Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear-- Full many a flower is born to blush unseen And waste its sweetness on the desert air.'”

”I wonder where the servants are?” I queried. ”At this hour in the country they are usually beginning to get busy. I tell you, Mammy Susan has 'em hustling by this time at Bracken.”

”I'm hungry as a bear! Don't you think we might get the old cook to hand us out a crust?” suggested Dum. ”Getting up early always makes me famished.”

”Sure! She is a nice-looking old party and no doubt would be as pleasant as she looks. Her name is Aunt Milly.”

We made our way to the kitchen, determined to return to the garden to enjoy the crust or whatever the cook might see fit to give us. A covered way connected the summer kitchen with the wing of the house where the dining-room was. This open pa.s.sage was covered with a lovely old vine, one not seen in this day and generation except in old places: Was.h.i.+ngton's bower. It is a very thick vine that sends forth great shoots that fall in a shower like a weeping willow. It has a dainty little purple blossom that the bees adore, and these turn later into squishy, bright red berries. The trunk of this vine is very thick and st.u.r.dy and twists itself into as many fantastic shapes as a wisteria.

The kitchen was built of logs; in fact it was the original homestead of the family, having been erected by the earliest settlers at Price's Landing. Later on it had been turned into a kitchen when the mansion had been built. The great old fireplace with its crane and Dutch oven was still there, although the cooking was now done on a modern range. This black abomination of art, but necessity of the up-to-date housekeeper, was smoking dismally as we came in.

”Aunt Milly, please give me a biscuit!” cried Dum to a fat back bending over the table.

The owner of the back straightened up and turned. It was not Aunt Milly, but Miss Maria Price!

”Oh!” was all we could say.

The sedate black-silked and real-laced lady of the day before presented a sad spectacle when we made that early morning raid on the Maxton larder. In place of the handsome black silk she wore a baggy lawn kimono, and the fine lace cap had given place to a great mob cap that set off her moon-like face like a sunflower. Her countenance was so woebegone that it distressed us and two great tears were squeezing their way from her sad eyes.

”Why, Miss Price! Please excuse us,” I said, seeing that Dum was speechless.

”Oh, my dear, it is all right now that you have seen me out here in this wrapper. These good-for-nothing darkies have one and all sent me word they are sick this morning and cannot come to work, and here I am with no breakfast cooked. I am so distressed that Harvie's friends should not be well served. What shall I do? What shall I do?”

”Do! Why, let all of us help,” exclaimed Dum.

”Let his guests help! Why, my dear, I could not bear to do such a thing.”