Part 30 (1/2)

Charlotte smiled with as soft an expression as the unaccustomed lips could reveal, and nothing but stamping her aristocratic foot could have expressed Mrs. Barry's exasperation.

”I am quite sure my son would not take any absurd and unnecessary step,”

she said, with such hauteur that Mrs. Whipp came out of her day-dream and realized that the great lady's eyes were flas.h.i.+ng. Without another word the visitor turned and left the shop, her black and violet cape sweeping through living-room and kitchen and back into her machine.

The rest of the day was spent by the lady in alternations of scorn, vexation, and anxiety.

Late in the afternoon she heard a motor enter the grounds, and hurrying to the door saw with a happy leap of the heart that it was Ben's roadster. Her relief drove her to forgive and forget and to hurry out to the piazza. The machine came on and she saw that her son was not alone.

A boy sat beside him.

The roadster stopped. Ben jumped out and kissed his mother, then beckoned to Pete, who obediently drew near and stood on his curved legs, his hat in his hand. He looked up at the queenly lady, and his eyes which had ceased to wonder were still seeking.

”Is she here, Master?” he asked.

”No, but near by,” replied Ben.

”Mother, I've engaged a new boy. His name is Pete. He is here for general utility. He is very willing.”

Mrs. Barry gazed in disapproval at the quaint, clean figure in his brand-new clothes. Pete's rough hands constantly twirled his straw hat.

”You should have asked me,” she said. ”We don't need any more help.”

Ben put his arm around her and drew her close to him. ”Yes, we do,” he replied cheerfully, ”down at Keefeport. Pete will go there and keep things in shape. You will wonder how you ever got along without him; but I need him first. He was one of the hands at the Carder farm--has been there from a child and he knows more about his master's devilment than anybody else.”

”Ben!” His mother looked up reproachfully into the young fellow's happy eyes. ”Why did you need to risk your life again--”

”Oh, not a bit of that,” laughed Ben. ”I picked Pete out of a grocery store--”

”Where is she, Master?” The voice of the boy was pleading again.

”Pete was a good friend to Miss Melody, the only one she had, and now his reward is going to be to see her.”

”You don't mean,” exclaimed Mrs. Barry, ”that you have spent a couple of days to get this boy and dress him up in order to allow him to see Miss Melody?”

”No, not exactly. I kidnapped him as an information bureau.”

”Why can't you let that disgusting farmer alone?” asked the lady despairingly.

”Because if I do, he won't let us alone,” returned Ben shortly. ”Well, now, we've shown ourselves to you and we'll be off to keep my word to Pete. Hop in, boy.”

Miss Upton and Geraldine had reached home, hatbox and all, and were in the dismantled shop answering Charlotte's questions when they heard an automobile stop before the door and a cheery whistle sounded. The repellent shades were still down at the windows.

”That's Ben Barry!” exclaimed Miss Mehitable. ”Don't you dare to touch that hat!” she added severely to Geraldine, whose cheeks flushed deeply as a tattoo began on the locked door.

So the girl was standing in the middle of the room wearing the droopy hat when Ben came in, followed by the dwarf at whom Miss Mehitable and Charlotte stared.

Geraldine forgot her hat, and Ben Barry--forgot everything but the eager adoration in the face of the transformed slave. ”Why, Pete, Pete!” she cried joyously, running to meet him.

The boy bit his lips to keep back the tears and his clumsy fingers worked nervously as his G.o.ddess rested both her hands on his shoulders.