Oh, Money! Money! Part 31

Mr. Smith shook his head.

"Well, she is," nodded Benny. "She tried to get Bess to go--Gussie Pennock's goin'. But Bess!--my you should see her nose go up in the air! She said she wa'n't goin' where she had to wear great coa.r.s.e shoes an' horrid middy-blouses all day, an' build fires an' walk miles an'

eat bugs an' gra.s.shoppers."

"Is Miss Mellicent going to do all that?" smiled Mr. Smith.

"Bess says she is--I mean, ELIZABETH. Did you know? We have to call her that now, when we don't forget it. I forget it, mostly. Have you seen her since she came back?"

"No."

"She's swingin' an awful lot of style--Bess is. She makes dad dress up in his swallow-tail every night for dinner. An' she makes him and Fred an' me stand up the minute she comes into the room, no matter if there's forty other chairs in sight; an' we have to STAY standin' till she sits down--an' sometimes she stands up a-purpose, just to keep US standing. I know she does. She says a gentleman never sits when a lady is standin' up in his presence. An' she's lecturin' us all the time on the way to eat an' talk an' act. Why, we can't even walk natural any longer. An' she says the way Katy serves our meals is a disgrace to any civilized family."

"How does Katy like that?"

"Like it! She got mad an' gave notice on the spot. An' that made ma 'most have hysterics--she did have one of her headaches--'cause good hired girls are awful scarce, she says. But Bess says, Pooh! we'll get some from the city next time that know their business, an' we're goin'

away all summer, anyway, an' won't ma please call them 'maids,' as she ought to, an' not that plebeian 'hired girl.' Bess loves that word.

Everything's 'plebeian' with Bess now. Oh we're havin' great times at our house since Bess--ELIZABETH--came!" grinned Benny, tossing his cap in the air, and dancing down the walk much as he had danced the first night Mr. Smith saw him a year before.

The James Blaisdells were hardly off to sh.o.r.e and camp when Miss Flora started on her travels. Mr. Smith learned all about her plans, too, for she came down one day to talk them over with Miss Maggie.

Miss Flora was looking very well in a soft gray and white summer silk.

Her forehead had lost its lines of care, and her eyes were no longer peering for wrinkles. Miss Flora was actually almost pretty.

"How nice you look!" exclaimed Miss Maggie.

"Do I?" panted Miss Flora, as she fluttered up the steps and sank into one of the porch chairs.

"Indeed, you do!" exclaimed Mr. Smith admiringly. Mr. Smith was putting up a trellis for Miss Maggie's new rosebush. He was working faithfully, but not with the skill of accustomedness.

"I'm so glad you like it!" Miss Flora settled back into her chair and smoothed out the ruffles across her lap. "It isn't too gay, is it? You know the six months are more than up now."

"Not a bit!" exclaimed Mr. Smith.

"No, indeed!" cried Miss Maggie.

"I hoped it wasn't," sighed Miss Flora happily. "Well, I'm all packed but my dresses."

"Why, I thought you weren't going till Monday," said Miss Maggie.

"Oh, I'm not."

"But--it's only Friday now!"

Miss Flora laughed shamefacedly.'

"Yes, I know. I suppose I am a little ahead of time. But you see, I ain't used to packing--not a big trunk, so--and I was so afraid I wouldn't get it done in time. I was going to put my dresses in; but Mis' Moore said they'd wrinkle awfully, if I did, and, of course, they would, when you come to think of it. So I shan't put those in till Sunday night. I'm so glad Mis' Moore's going. It'll be so nice to have somebody along that I know."

"Yes, indeed," smiled Miss Maggie.

"And she knows everything--all about tickets and checking the baggage, and all that. You know we're only going to be personally conducted to Niagara. After that we're going to New York and stay two weeks at some nice hotel. I want to see Grant's Tomb and the Aquarium, and Mis' Moore wants to go to Coney Island. She says she's always wanted to go to Coney Island just as I have to Niagara."

"I'm glad you can take her," said Miss Maggie heartily.

"Yes, and she's so pleased. You know, even if she has such a nice family, and all, she hasn't much money, and she's been awful nice to me lately. I used to think she didn't like me, too. But I must have been mistaken, of course. And 'twas so with Mis' Benson and Mis' Pennock, too. But now they've invited me there and have come to see me, and are SO interested in my trip and all. Why, I never knew I had so many friends, Maggie. Truly I didn't!"

Miss Maggie said nothing, but, there was an odd expression on her face.

Mr. Smith pounded a small nail home with an extra blow of his hammer.

"And they're all so kind and interested about the money, too," went on Miss Flora, gently rocking to and fro. "Bert Benson sells stocks and invests money for folks, you know, and Mis' Benson said he'd got some splendid-payin' ones, and he'd let me have some, and--"

"Flo, you DIDN'T take any of that Benson gold-mine stock!" interrupted Miss Maggie sharply.

Mr. Smith's hammer stopped, suspended in mid-air.

"No; oh, no! I asked Mr. Chalmers and he said better not. So I didn't."

Miss Maggie relaxed in her chair, and Mr. Smith's hammer fell with a gentle tap on the nail-head. "But I felt real bad about it--when Mis'

Benson had been so kind as to offer it, you know. It looked sort of--of ungrateful, so."

"Ungrateful!" Miss Maggie's voice vibrated with indignant scorn.

"Flora, you won't--you WON'T invest your money without asking Mr.

Chalmers's advice first, will you?"

"But I tell you I didn't," retorted Miss Flora, with unusual sharpness, for her. "But it was good stock, and it pays splendidly. Jane took some. She took a lot."

"Jane!--but I thought Frank wouldn't let her."

"Oh, Frank said all right, if she wanted to, she might. I suspect he got tired of her teasing, and it did pay splendidly. Why, 'twill pay twenty-five per cent, probably, this year, Mis' Benson says. So Frank give in. You see, he felt he'd got to pacify Jane some way, I s'pose, she's so cut up about his selling out."

"Selling out!" exclaimed Miss Maggie.

"Oh, didn't you know that? Well, then I HAVE got some news!" Miss Flora gave the satisfied little wriggle with which a born news-lover always prefaces her choicest bit of information. "Frank has sold his grocery stores--both of 'em."

"Why, I can't believe it!" Miss Maggie fell back with a puzzled frown.

"SOLD them! Why, I should as soon think of his--his selling himself,"

cried Mr. Smith. "I thought they were inseparable."

"Well, they ain't--because he's separated 'em." Miss Flora was rocking a little faster now.

"But why?" demanded Miss Maggie.

"He says he wants a rest. That he's worked hard all his life, and it's time he took some comfort. He says he doesn't take a minute of comfort now 'cause Jane's hounding him all the time to get more money, to get more money. She's crazy to see the interest mount up, you know--Jane is. But he says he don't want any more money. He wants to SPEND money for a while. And he's going to spend it. He's going to retire from business and enjoy himself."

"Well," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Smith, "this is a piece of news, indeed!"

"I should say it was," cried Miss Maggie, still almost incredulous.

"How does Jane take it?"

"Oh, she's turribly fussed up over it, as you'd know she would be. Such a good chance wasted, she thinks, when he might be making all that money earn more. You know Jane wants to turn everything into money now.