Part 23 (1/2)

CHAPTER XI

Mother and Son

Miss Upton had looked upon the parting amenities of the two young people with beaming approval; and Geraldine's first words when they were alone astonished her.

As soon as they were inside the shop and the door closed, the young girl looked earnestly into her friend's eyes. Miss Mehitable returned her regard affectionately. The golden hair had been wound up and secured with Mrs. Barry's hairpins.

”I wish there were some way by which I need never see him again,” she said.

”Why, Miss Melody, child, what do you mean? Every word I told you in my letter was true. Perhaps you never got it, but I told you that he is the _finest_--”

”Yes, yes, I believe it,” was the hasty reply. ”I did receive your letter, and some time I'll tell you how, and what a comfort it was to me. Oh, Miss Upton”--the girl threw her arms around the stout figure--”I can't tell you what it means to me for you to take me in; and this is your shop you told me of--” she released Miss Mehitable and looked about--”and I'm going to tend it for you and help you in every way I can. It is paradise--paradise to me, Miss Upton.”

Her fervor brought a lump to her companion's throat, but she knew that Mrs. Whipp was listening from the sitting-room, and Miss Mehitable did love peace.

”Yes, yes, dear child; it'll all come out right,” she said vaguely, patting the white shoulder. ”I have another good helper and I want you to meet her. Come with me.” She led the girl through the shop.

Mrs. Whipp had retreated violently from the front window when she saw the closed car drive up, and now she was standing, at bay as it were, with eyes fixed on the doorway through which her employer would bring the stranger. Pearl was placidly purring in the last rays of the sinking sun, her milk-white paws tucked under her soft breast, the only unexcited member of the family.

Mrs. Whipp had excuse for staring as the young girl came into view.

Short wisps of golden hair waved about her face. Her beauty struck a sort of awe to the militant woman, who was standing on a mental fence in armed neutrality holding herself ready to spring down on that side which would regard the stranger as an interloper come to sponge on Miss Upton, or possibly she might descend upon the other side and endure the newcomer pa.s.sively.

”This is our little girl, Charlotte,” said Miss Mehitable; ”our little girl to take care of, and who wants to take care of us. This is Mrs.

Whipp, Geraldine.”

Charlotte blinked as the newcomer's face relaxed in her appealing smile, and she came forward and took Mrs. Whipp's hard, unexpectant hand in her soft grasp. ”Such a fortunate girl I am, Mrs. Whipp,” she said, ”I'm sure I shall inconvenience you at first (this fact had been too plainly legible on the weazened face to be ignored), but I will try to make up for it--try my very best, and it may not be for long.”

Charlotte mumbled some inarticulate greeting, falling an instant victim to the young creature's humility and loveliness.

”I look very queer, I know,” continued Geraldine, ”but you see I just came down out of the sky.”

”She really did,” put in Miss Upton. ”She came in Mr. Barry's areoplane.”

”Shan't I die!” commented Mrs. Whipp, continuing to stare with a pertinacity equal to Rufus Carder's own. ”I believe it. She looks like an angel,” she thought. Miss Mehitable watched her melting mood with inward amus.e.m.e.nt.

”What a beautiful cat!” said Geraldine. ”She's tame, isn't she? Will she let you touch her?”

”Well,” said Charlotte with a broader smile than had been seen on her countenance for many a day, ”I guess they don't have cats in the sky.”

She lifted Pearl and bestowed her in Geraldine's arms.

The girl met the lazy, golden eyes rather timorously, but she took her.

”All the cats where--where I was--were wild--and no one--no one fed them, you see.”

”Well, this cat is named Pearl,” said Miss Mehitable. ”She's Charlotte's jewel and you can bet she does get fed. How about us, Charlotte?” She turned to the waiting table. ”I want to give Miss Melody her supper and put her to bed, and after she has slept twelve hours we'll get her to tell us how it feels to fly. Thank Heaven, she's here with no broken bones.”

Meanwhile Ben Barry had reached home and made a rather formal toilet for the evening meal. Even before his mother saw it, she knew she was going to be disciplined. While the waitress remained in the room the young man's gravity and meticulous politeness would have intimidated most mothers with a conscience as guilty as Mrs. Barry's. She was forced to raise her napkin several times, not to dry tears, but to conceal smiles which would have been sure to add fuel to the flame.