A House Party with the Tucker Twins Part 15

"Certainly, Mr. Pore," he said politely, if a little distantly. "Just give me your bill of lading and I will look into the matter for you."

In my mind's eye I saw the five pounds of candy. I had certainly won.

But was it fair of me to take advantage of poor Zebedee's tender heart?

Certainly not!

"Shall it be chocolates?" he asked, when Mr. Pore had finished his transaction and taken himself off.

"It shall be nothing!" I exclaimed. "Don't you know I know why you were decent to the old fish? It was not just plain politeness that made you do it, it was your feeling for Annie, poor little thing!"

"How do you know so much?"

"Why, I saw you change your mind the moment he dragged in Annie, and I knew what you were thinking just as much as though you had said it aloud: 'Don't do anything to make things hard for Annie.' Now isn't that so?"

"Page, you are uncanny! Can you read everybody's mind?"

"Of course not! Only yours," I laughed.

"Do you know what I am thinking now?" He looked at me very intently. The light from the hall was flooding the gallery and I could see way down into his clear blue eyes.

"N-o!" I hesitated, and I am afraid blushed, too. "But I wish you would think that it would be nice to go try that new wiggly dance Jessie Wilc.o.x has just brought from New York."

"I see, if you can't read my mind all the time, you can at least make me think what you want me to. Come on, honey, and show me the dance."

I got the candy in spite of my protestations of not deserving it.

The picnic was to be at Croxton's Ford, a beautiful spot about three miles down the river. The naphtha launch held eight quite comfortably and the rest were to go in rowboats. Mary and Shorty insisted upon paddling the canoe, although they were warned that it would be a tiring job, especially coming back.

Miss Maria had planned to go with us although an all day picnic was a great undertaking for one of her shape, but she was very particular with girls intrusted to her and chaperoned most religiously. On the very morning of the picnic, sciatica seized her and she simply could not get out of bed. The general had business at the court-house and was off very early in the morning, so his going was out of the question. Miss Maria lay there groaning and moaning, miserable that her conscience could not consent to our going on such a jaunt, unchaperoned. As Tweedles and I had never been overchaperoned, in fact knew very little about such necessities, it seemed absurd to us.

"Do you really mean we can't go without a chaperone?" wailed Dum, who had set her heart on a long row in a little red boat that appealed to her especially.

"My dear, I am so sorry! I would get up if I could."

"But I wouldn't have you get up, dear Miss Maria. I just want you to lie still and get well. We don't need a chaperone!"

"I know you don't need one, my child, but I have never heard of a picnic at Croxton's Ford without a chaperone."

"But Zebedee's a grand chaperone," put in Dee. "He is that particular!

Why, Dum and Page and I have never been chaperoned in our lives."

"Zebedee's the strictest thing!" maintained Dum.

"So he may be," smiled the old lady, although one could see that the twinges in her poor hip were giving her great agony, "but as perfect as he is, he is not a woman."

"No,--he is certainly not that."

"Jessie Wilc.o.x has never been on a picnic in her life without a chaperone, and I could not consent to one from Maxton unless it was perfectly regular."

A tap on the door disclosed the sympathetic Zebedee.

"Please let me come in," he begged.

After a hasty donning of boudoir cap and bed sacque, he was admitted.

"Mr. Tucker, I am so sorry, but I cannot let the girls go on a picnic without a chaperone," said the old lady.

"Of course not!" and his eyes twinkled. "I'm going, though, and I am a perfect ogre of a chaperone, eh, Page?"

"Yes, something fierce, but Miss Maria says you are not a woman."

"That's so!" he said, puckering up his brows. We were mortally sure he was going to find a way. He always did. "How about Aunt Milly? She is perfectly respectable and would guard the young ladies like gold, I am sure."

"We-ll, I remember before the war we often went great distances with our maids. I think she would do. Please send her to me."

Zebedee rushed to do her bidding, but he evidently had an interview with Aunt Milly before he sent her to Miss Maria, as that old darky entered the bed chamber in a broad grin, tying something up in the corner of her bandanna handkerchief as she came.

"Milly, I want you to chaperone for me to-day," said the poor invalid, groaning as she tried to move a bit in her great mahogany bed.

"Sho', Miss Maria! Does you want me to do it wif goose grease? Or maybe you'd like dat mixture er coal ile an' pneumonia? Dat's a great mixture.

'Twill bun you up but it sho' do scatter de pain."

"I don't mean ma.s.sage, I said chaperone," and Miss Maria laughed in spite of her sciatic nerve.

"Ya.s.sum! I 'lowed you meant rub, an' I's mo'n willin' to rub. You'll hab to 'splain. I ain't quite sho' in my min' what shopper-roonin' is, but if it'll ease yo' pain, you kin jes' call on ol' Milly."

"It would ease my pain greatly if you would go with the young ladies on the picnic."

"Cook for 'em?"

"Oh no, Aunt Milly," I interrupted, "we never let the chaperone cook,--just to look after us and keep us straight."

"Lawsamussy, chile! You all don't need n.o.body to keep you straight. Th'

ain't nothin' wrong wid you all but jes' you's a little coltish."

"I know they don't need anyone, Milly, but I have never heard of a picnic at Croxton's Ford without a chaperone, and I wouldn't be willing for them to go without one."

"All right, Miss Maria! But you ain't thinkin' 'bout sendin' me nowhar in one er them thar skifty boats, is you?"

"Oh no, Aunt Milly!" said Dee rea.s.suringly. "You must have a comfortable seat in the stern of the naphtha launch. We will give you the place Miss Maria would have had could she have gone."

"Well, Gawd save us! I ain't nebber set foot on or in the ribber in all my life an' I been born an' bred on its banks, too," and the old woman drew forth a big red bandanna handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

As she did so she came upon the something round and hard tied up in its corner, and at the same time she glanced up at Mr. Tucker. He, in a seemingly absent-minded way, put his hand in his pocket and jingled his keys and coin.

"Well, all right, Miss Maria! If you say I mus' go, I reckon 'tain't fer me to gainsay you. Who gonter do my wuck at home?"

"There won't be much work to do, Milly, since all of the young people are going away, and the general has planned to spend the day at the court-house. The lunch baskets are ready, are they not?"