Three Women

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18. Save Me From My Friends



"Miss Jinny! Miss Jinny! Wait a minit. Dar's a man yander at de back do' dat wants fer ter ax yo' sumpin' he say," called Mammy, as she hurried through the hall just as Mrs. Carruth was leaving the house upon the following Monday morning.

"What is it, Mammy?" asked Mrs. Carruth, pausing.

"He say he want ter see yo' pintedly."

Mrs. Carruth retraced her steps and upon reaching the back porch found Mr. Pringle waiting to see her.

"Hope I haven't delayed you, Mrs. Carruth, but I wanted to see you on a matter of business which might help both of us, you see. Ah, I thought--I thought mebbe you'd like to hear of it."

"I certainly should like to if it is to my advantage, Mr. Pringle," replied Mrs. Carruth, with a pleasant smile for the livery stable keeper, who stood self-consciously twirling his cap.

"Yes, ma'am. I thought so, ma'am. Well it's this: Your stable, ma'am, up at the old place, are you usin' it at all?"

"Not as a stable. It is more like a storehouse just now, for many things saved from the fire are stored there."

"Could you put them somewhere else and rent the stable to me, ma'am? I'm much put to it to find room for my boarding horses, and the carriages; my place is not big, and I thought could I rent your stable I'd keep most of my boarding horses up there; it's nearer to their owners you see, ma'am."

Mrs. Carruth thought a moment before replying.

"I shall have to think over your proposal, Mr. Pringle. There is a great deal of stuff stored in the stable and I am at a loss to know what we could do with it. However, I will let you know in a day or two if that will answer."

"Take your own time, ma'am. Take your own time. There's no hurry at all. I'll call round about Thursday and you can let me know. I'd be willing to pay twenty-five dollars a month for it, ma'am."

Pringle did not add that the step had been suggested to him by Hadyn Stuyvesant, or that he had also set the figure.

When they were all gathered in the pleasant living-room that evening, she spoke of the matter, ending with the question:

"But where can we put all that furniture? This house will not hold another stick I'm afraid; we are crowded enough as it is."

For a few moments no one had a suggestion to offer, then Constance cried:

"Mother couldn't we sell a good many of the things? People do that you know. The Boyntons did when they left Riveredge."

"Yes, they had a private sale and disposed of many things. They advertised for weeks. I am afraid that would delay things too much."

"Why not have an auction then? That moves quickly enough. The things go or they don't go, and that is the end of it."

"Oh, I should dislike to do that. So many of those things hold very tender associations for me," hesitated Mrs. Carruth.

"Yet I am sure there are many things there which can't possibly have, mother. That patent washing machine, for example, that is as big as a dining-room table, and Mammy 'pintedly scorns,'" laughed Eleanor.

"And Jean's baby carriage. And the old cider-press, and that Noah's ark of a sideboard that we never can use," added Constance.

"And my express-wagon. I'll never play with that again you know; I'm far too old," concluded Jean with much self-importance.

"I dare say there are a hundred things there we will never use again, and which would better be sold than kept. Come down to the place with us to-morrow afternoon, Mumsey, and we will have a grand rummage," said Eleanor. And so the confab ended.

The following afternoon was given over to the undertaking, and as is invariably the case, they wondered more than once why so many perfectly useless articles had been so long and so carefully cherished.

Among them, however, were many which held very dear memories for Mrs. Carruth, and with which she was reluctant to part. Among these was a small box of garden-tools, which had belonged to her husband, and with which he had spent many happy hours at work among his beloved flower beds. Also a reading lamp which they had bought when they were first married, and beneath whose rays many tender dreams had taken form and in many instances become realities. To be sure the lamp had not been used for more than ten years, as it had long since ceased to be regarded as either useful or ornamental, and neither it nor the garden tools were worth a dollar.

But wives and mothers are strange creatures and recognize values which no one else can see. The girls appreciated their mother's love for every object which their father's hands had sanctified, and urged her to put aside the things she so valued, arguing that the proceeds could not possibly materially increase the sum they might receive for the general collection. But Mrs. Carruth insisted that if one thing was sold all should be, and that her personal feelings must not influence or enter into the matter. So in time all was definitely arranged; the auctioneer was engaged and the sale duly advertised for a certain Saturday morning. No sooner were the posters in evidence than Miss Jerusha Pike, likewise, became so. She swept in upon Mrs. Carruth one morning when the latter was endeavoring to complete a much-needed frock for Jean, as that young lady's elbows were as self-assertive as herself, and had a trick of appearing in public when it was most inconvenient to have them do so. Between letting down skirts and putting in new sleeves Mrs. Carruth's hands were usually kept well occupied.

"Morning, Mammy," piped Miss Pike's high-pitched voice, as Mammy answered her ring at the front door. "What's the meaning of these signs I see about town. You don't mean to tell me you are going to sell out? I couldn't believe my own eyes, so I came right straight here to find out. Where is that dear, dear woman?" "She up in her room busy wid some sewin'," stated Mammy, with considerable emphasis upon the last word as a hint to the visitor.

"Well, tell her not to mind me; I'm an old friend, you know. I'll go right up to her room; I wouldn't have her come down for the world."

"Hum! Yas'm," replied Mammy, moving slowly toward the stairs. Too slowly thought Miss Pike, for, bouncing up from the reception-room chair, upon which she had promptly seated herself, she hurried after the retreating figure saying:

"Now don't you bother to go way up-stairs. I don't doubt you have a hundred things to do this morning, and I've never been up-stairs in this house, anyway. Go along out to your kitchen, Mammy, and I'll just announce myself." And brushing by the astonished old woman she rushed half way up the stairs before Mammy could recover herself. It was a master coup de main, for well Miss Pike knew that she would never be invited to ascend those stairs to the privacy of Mrs. Carruth's own room. Mammy knew this also, and the good soul's face was a study as she stared after her. Miss Pike disappeared around the curve of the stairs calling as she ascended:

"It's only me, dear. Don't mind me in the least. Go right on with your work. I'll be charmed to lend you a hand; I'm a master helper at sewing." Mammy muttered:

"Well ef yo' aint de banginest han' at pokin' dat snipe nose o' yours inter places whar 'taint no call ter be I'd lak ter know who is. I'se jist a good min' ter go slap bang atter yo' an' hustle yo' froo' dat front door; I is fer a fac'."

Meanwhile, aroused from her occupation by the high-pitched voice, Mrs. Carruth dropped her work and hurried into the hall. She could hardly believe that this busy-body of the town had actually forced herself upon her in this manner. She had often tried to do so, but as often been thwarted in her attempts.

"Oh, why did you get up to meet me? You shouldn't have done it, you dear thing. I know how valuable every moment of your time is now-a-days. Dear, dear, how times have changed, haven't they? Now go right back to your room and resume your sewing and let me help while I talk. I felt I must come. Those awful signs have haunted me ever since I first set my eyes upon them. Don't tell me you are going to sell anything! Surely you won't leave Riveredge? Why I said to Miss Doolittle on my way here, well, if the Carruths have met with more reverses and have got to sell out, I'll clear give up. You haven't, have you? But this house must be an awful expense, ain't it? How much does Hadyn Stuyvesant ask you for it anyway? I'll bet he isn't giving it away. His mother was rather near, you know, and I dare say he takes after her. Do you pay as much as fifty a month for it? I said to Miss Doolittle I bet anything you didn't get it a cent less. Now do you? It's all between ourselves; you know I wouldn't breathe it to a soul for worlds."

If you have ever suddenly had a great wave lift you from your feet, toss you thither and yonder for a moment, and then land you high and dry upon the beach when you have believed yourself to be enjoying a delightful little dip in an apparently calm ocean, you will have some idea of how Mrs. Carruth felt as this tornado of a woman caught her by her arm, hurried her back into her quiet, peaceful bedroom, forced her into her chair, and picking up her work laid it upon her lap, at the same time making a dive for an unfinished sleeve, as she continued the volley.

"Oh, I see just exactly what you're doing. I can be the greatest help to you. Go right on and don't give this a thought. I've been obliged to do so much piecing and patching for the family that I'm almost able to patch shoes. Now what did you say Haydn Stuyvesant charged you for this house?"

The sharp eyes were bent upon the sleeve.

"I don't think I said, Miss Pike. And, thank you, it is not necessary to put a patch upon the elbow of that sleeve as you are preparing to do; I have already made an entire new one. As to our leaving Riveredge I am sorry you have given yourself so much concern about it. When we decide to do so I dare say you will be the first to learn of our intention. Yes, the auction is to take place at our stable as the announcement states. You learned all the particulars regarding it from the bills, I am sure. If you are interested you may find time to be present that morning. And now, since I am strongly averse to receiving even my most intimate friends in a littered-up room I will ask you to return to the reception room with me," and rising from her chair this quiet, unruffled being moved toward the door.

"But your work, my dear. Your work! You can't afford to let me interrupt it, I'm afraid. Your time must be so precious."

"It seems to have been interrupted already, does it not? Sometimes we would rather sacrifice our time than our temper, don't you think so?" and a quizzical smile crept over Mrs. Carruth's face.

"Well, now, I hate to have you make company of me. I really do. I thought I'd just run in for a little neighborly chat and I seem to have put a stop to everything. Dear me, I didn't think you'd mind me a mite. Are you going to sell this set of furniture? 'Taint so very much worn, is it? Only the edges are a little mite frayed. Some people mightn't notice it, but my eyesight's exceptional. Well, do tell me what's goin'."

As though fate had taken upon herself the responsibility of answering that question, the door-bell rang at the instant and when it was answered by Mammy, Mrs. Eleanor Carruth stalked into the hall. Mrs. Carruth rose to greet her. Miss Pike rose to go. If there was one person in this world of whom Jerusha Pike stood in wholesome awe it was Mrs. Eleanor Carruth, for the latter lady had absolutely no use for the former, and let her understand it. Madam Carruth, as she was often called, shook her niece's hand, looked at her keenly for a moment and then said:

"My stars, Jenny, what ails you? You look as though you'd been blown about by a whirlwind. Oh, how do you do, Miss Pike. Just going? You're under too high pressure, Jenny. We must ease it up a little, I guess. Good-bye, Miss Pike. My niece has always been considered a most amiable woman, hasn't she? I think she hasn't backbone enough at times. That is the reason I happen along unexpectedly to lend her some. Fine day, isn't it?"

Two minutes later Miss Pike was in close confab with her friend Miss Doolittle.

Aunt Eleanor was up in her niece's room putting in the neglected sleeve and saying:

"If I'd been in that front hall I'll guarantee she would never have clomb those stairs. Now tell me all about this auction."