An Alabaster Box Part 26

The two girls still sat on the high front seat of the carryall; both were gazing at Lydia in her simple morning frock. There were no flowers on Lydia's Panama hat; nothing but a plain black band; but it had an air of style and elegance. f.a.n.n.y was wishing she had bought a plain hat without roses. Ellen tossed her dark head:

"I don't know," she said. "You aren't going to stay long; are you, mother?"

"For pity sake, Ellen!" expostulated Mrs. Dodge briskly. "Of course you'll get out, and you, too, f.a.n.n.y. The horse'll stand."

"Please do!" entreated Lydia.

Thus urged, the girls reluctantly descended. Neither was in the habit of concealing her feelings under the convenient cloak of society observance, and both were jealously suspicious of Lydia Orr. f.a.n.n.y had met her only the week before, walking with Wesley Elliot along the village street. And Mrs. Solomon Black had told Mrs. Fulsom, and Mrs. Fulsom had told Mrs. Deacon Whittle, and Mrs. Whittle had told another woman, who had felt it to be her Christian duty (however unpleasant) to inform f.a.n.n.y that the minister was "payin' attention to Miss Orr."

"Of course," the woman had pointed out, "it wasn't to be wondered at, special, seeing the Orr girl had every chance in the world to catch him--living right in the same house with him." Then she had further stated her opinions of men in general for f.a.n.n.y's benefit. All persons of the male s.e.x, according to this woman, were easily put upon, deceived and otherwise led astray by artful young women from the city, who were represented as perpetually on the lookout for easy marks, like Wesley Elliot.

"He ain't any different from other men, if he _is_ a minister," said she with a comprehensive sniff. "They're all alike, as far as I can find out: anybody that's a mind to soft-soap them and flatter them into thinkin' they're something great can lead them right around by the nose. And besides, _she's_ got _money!_"

f.a.n.n.y had affected a haughty indifference to the doings of Wesley Elliot, which did not for a moment deceive her keen-eyed informer.

"Of course, anybody with eyes in their heads can see what's taken place," compa.s.sionated she, impaling the unfortunate f.a.n.n.y on the p.r.o.ngs of her sympathy. "My! I was telling George only yesterday, I thought it was a _perfect shame!_ and somebody ought to speak out real plain to the minister."

Whereat f.a.n.n.y had been goaded into wishing the woman would mind her own business! She did wish everybody would leave her and her affairs alone! People had no right to talk! As for speaking to the minister; let any one dare--!

As for Ellen Dix, she had never quite forgiven Lydia for innocently acquiring the fox skin and she had by now almost persuaded herself that she was pa.s.sionately in love with Jim Dodge. She had always liked him--at least, she had not actively disliked him, as some of the other girls professed to do. She had found his satirical tongue, his keen eyes and his real or affected indifference to feminine wiles pleasantly stimulating. There was some fun in talking to Jim Dodge.

But of late she had not been afforded the opportunity. f.a.n.n.y had explained to Ellen that Jim was working terribly hard, often rising at three and four in the morning to work on his own farm, and putting in long days at the Bolton place.

"She seems to have most of the men in Brookville doing for her,"

Ellen had remarked coldly.

Then the girls had exchanged cautious glances.

"There's something awfully funny about her coming here, anyway," said Ellen. "Everybody thinks it's queer."

"I expect she had a reason," said f.a.n.n.y, avoiding Ellen's eyes.

After which brief interchange of opinion they had twined their arms about each other's waists and squeezed wordless understanding and sympathy. Henceforth, it was tacitly understood between the two girls that singly and collectively they did not "like" Lydia Orr.

Lydia understood without further explanation that she was not to look to her nearest neighbors for either friendship or the affection she so deeply craved. Both Ellen and f.a.n.n.y had pa.s.sed the place every day since its restoration began; but not once had either betrayed the slightest interest or curiosity in what was going on beyond the barrier of the hedge. To be sure, f.a.n.n.y had once stopped to speak to her brother; but when Lydia had hurried hopefully out to greet her it was only to catch a glimpse of the girl's back as she walked quickly away.

Jim Dodge had explained, with some awkwardness, that f.a.n.n.y was in a hurry....

"Well, now, I'll tell you, Miss Orr," Mrs. Dix was saying, as all five women walked slowly toward the house. "I was talking with Abby Daggett, and she was telling me about your wanting to get back the old furniture that used to be in the house. It seems Henry Daggett has put up a notice in the post office; but so far, he says, not very many pieces have been heard from. You know the men-folks generally go after the mail, and men are slow; there's no denying that. As like as not they haven't even mentioned seeing the notice to the folks at home."

"That's so," confirmed Mrs. Dodge, nodding her head. "I don't know as Jim would ever tell us anything that happened from morning till night. We just have to pump things out of him; don't we, f.a.n.n.y? He'd never tell without we did. His father was just the same."

f.a.n.n.y looked annoyed, and Ellen squeezed her arm with an amused giggle.

"I didn't know, mother, there was anything we wanted to know, particularly," she said coldly.

"Well, you know both of us have been real interested in the work here," protested Mrs. Dodge, wonderingly. "I remember you was asking Jim only last night if Miss Orr was really going to--"

"I hope you'll like to see the house," said Lydia, as if she had not heard; "of course, being here every day I don't notice the changes as you might."

"You aren't living here yet, are you?" asked Mrs. Dix. "I understood Mrs. Solomon Black to say you weren't going to leave her for awhile yet."

"No; I shall be there nights and Sundays till everything is finished here," said Lydia. "Mrs. Black makes me very comfortable."

"Well, I think most of us ladies had ought to give you a vote of thanks on account of feeding the men-folks, noons," put in Mrs.

Dodge. "It saves a lot of time not to have to look after a dinner-pail."

"Mother," interrupted f.a.n.n.y in a thin, sharp voice, quite unlike her own, "you know Jim always comes home to his dinner."

"Well, what if he does; I was speaking for the rest of th' women,"

said Mrs. Dodge. "I'm sure it's very kind of Miss Orr to think of such a thing as cooking a hot dinner for all those hungry men."

Mrs. Dodge had received a second check from the a.s.signees that very morning from the sale of the old bank building, and she was proportionately cheerful and content.

"Well; if this isn't handsome!" cried Mrs. Dix, pausing in the hall to look about her. "I declare I'd forgotten how it used to look. This is certainly better than having an old ruin standing here. But, of course it brings back old days."

She sighed, her dark, comely face clouding with sorrow.

"You know," she went on, turning confidentially to Lydia, "that dreadful bank failure was the real cause of my poor husband's death.

He never held up his head after that. They suspected at first he was implicated in the steal. But Mr. Dix wasn't anything like Andrew Bolton. No; indeed! He wouldn't have taken a cent that belonged to anybody else--not if he was to die for it!"

"That's so," confirmed Mrs. Dodge. "What Andrew Bolton got was altogether too good for him. Come right down to it, he wasn't no better than a murderer!"

And she nodded her head emphatically.

f.a.n.n.y and Ellen, who stood looking on, reddened impatiently at this:

"I'm sick and tired of hearing about Andrew Bolton," complained Ellen. "I've heard nothing else since I can remember. It's a pity you bought this house, Miss Orr: I heard Mr. Elliot say it was like stirring up a horrid, muddy pool. Not very complimentary to Brookville; but then--"

"Don't you think people will--forget after a while?" asked Lydia, her blue eyes fixed appealingly on the two young faces. "I don't see why everybody should--"

"Well, if you'd fixed the house entirely different," said Mrs. Dix.

"But having it put back, just as it was, and wanting the old furniture and all--whatever put that into your head, my dear?"

"I heard it was handsome and old--I like old things. And, of course, it was--more in keeping to restore the house as it was, than to--"

"Well, I s'pose that's so," conceded Mrs. Dodge, her quick dark eyes busy with the renovated interior. "I'd sort of forgot how it did look when the Boltons was livin' here. But speaking of furniture; I see Mrs. Judge Fulsom let you have the old sofa. I remember she got it at the auction; she's kept it in her parlor ever since."

"Yes," said Lydia. "I was only too happy to give a hundred dollars for the sofa. It has been excellently preserved."

"A hundred dollars!" echoed Mrs. Dix. "Well!"

Mrs. Dodge giggled excitedly, like a young girl.

"A hundred dollars!" she repeated. "Well, I want to know!"

The two women exchanged swift glances.

"You wouldn't want to buy any pieces that had been broke, I s'pose,"