Part 21 (1/2)

”I did think of it but I knew she wouldn't be willing to have Sir Arthur go alone,” I said, rather proud of myself for being the first one to give him his t.i.tle.

”How much more suited he is to being a member of English aristocracy than engaging in mercantile pursuits in America,” laughed the general.

”I only wish his lovely wife might have shared the honor with him. Ah me, what a woman she was!”

”He was mighty cold and clammy about his brother's death,” said Dee.

”When Annie asked if it was bad news he had he said he might call it bad news; but his tone was far from convincing.”

”He hasn't seen his brother for over twenty years and he rowed with all his family before he left England, so I reckon it was hard to squeeze out many tears over his death. I felt awful bad about the poor young son,” and Dum looked ready to shed tears herself without having to resort to the squeezing process. ”'An untimely death in the Dardanelles!' That sounds so tragic.”

”Yes, that made me feel like crying, too,” said Dee. ”Just think of a splendid young Englishman, handsome and brave and charming, being shot to pieces by German bullets! I have an idea he had succeeded to the t.i.tle and estates only a few days before, and while he was sad about his father, he still was looking forward to being the baronet when he got home.”

”What makes you think he was handsome?” put in the more matter-of-fact Mary.

”I am sure he must have looked like Annie, and just think what a wonderfully handsome man he must have been! He had her lovely hair, I almost know he did, and great blue eyes and a strong, straight back,”

and Dum wiped her own eyes that would fill when she thought of the splendid young Englishman gone to his death.

”I don't like to break in on this grand orgy of feeling,” I said, ”but you must remember that Annie got her looks from her mother, as her father had none to spare. This poor young man may have been all the things you girls picture him to be, but he is just as likely to have inherited his looks from Uncle Arthur Ponsonby. He may have had no chin at all and have had champagne-bottle shoulders and a long neck.”

”Page, how can you? Don't you know that people who meet untimely deaths in the Dardanelles are always brave and handsome?” teased Zebedee. ”For my part, I am sorrier for the present baronet, Sir Arthur, than for the late lamenteds. Only think how far the poor man has drifted from all the manners and customs of his race!”

”Not manners, maybe customs! His manners are quite the thing to go with t.i.tles, I think. As for Annie,--she has a way with her that will make her s.h.i.+ne in any society,” I a.s.serted.

Everyone agreed with me audibly but Jessie. She had not yet adjusted herself to look upon Annie as anything but the badly-dressed daughter of a country storekeeper, who could sing better than she could and had attracted three out of the nine beaux on the house-party.

CHAPTER XV

SLEEPY WAKES UP

HOUSE-PARTIES have to end sometime and the one at Maxton was no exception. We had been invited for two weeks, and although Miss Maria graciously asked us to extend the time of our stay, we felt that the old lady had had enough of high jinks for a while. We had become very fond of her and I think she liked us, too. The general was in love with the whole bunch, he declared. He made his gallant, bromidic speeches to each one in turn, playing no favorites.

”If I were fifty years younger I would show these chaps a thing or two,”

he would say.

My private opinion was that the chaps did not need a thing or two shown them, as they seemed quite on to the fact that Maxton was a romantic spot and that there is no time like the present for getting off tender nothings. There being Jacks to go around for the Jills and some to spare, if there were any heartaches they were among the males, as there were no wallflowers among the girls.

If the death of Sir Isaac Pore and his son and heir did not cause overmuch grief in the heart of the storekeeper at Price's Landing, it had a dire effect on three young men in the great house on the hill. The only way in which they could give vent to their feelings was in heroic attempts to a.s.sist in the inventory of the stock. That meant at least that they could be near Annie and gain her grat.i.tude. Annie's grat.i.tude was not a difficult thing to gain. She was in a state of perpetual astonishment that all of us loved her so much.

”What have I done to make all of you so kind to me?” she would ask. And the answer would be:

”Everything, in that you are your own sweet self.”

Mr. Pore, or rather Sir Arthur, seemed to think we were helping in the shop because of our admiration and respect for him, and since he thus flattered himself we let him go on thinking so, and even encouraged him in this delusion since it simplified matters for all of us. Sleepy even sneaked the daughter off on a lovely long buggy ride while Dum checked up a shelf full of dry-goods, supposed to be done by Annie.

The seemingly impossible was accomplished and that before we left Maxton: a complete inventory of the stock of a crowded country store was made and in order, all because of the many helpers. A purchaser was found by the expeditious Zebedee, and everything, including the good will, sold, lock, stock, and barrel, at a very good price considering the haste of the transaction.

Annie and her father actually did get off within the week. How it was accomplished I can't see, and as we had left Maxton before they made their getaway I shall never know. Harvie, who was the only one of us left, said that Sir Arthur was as standoffish and superior as ever. He started on his journey with the same old Gladstone bag and, as far as Harvie could make out, the same English clothes he had brought to Price's Landing all those years and years ago.