Polly of Pebbly Pit Part 36

"You can depend upon it, I covered all I could think might come within a mile of gold!" laughed Polly.

"Well, girls, listen to some good advice on this! Not a word to be said about this cave--not even among yourselves until the claim is filed and investigated! You see, the walls have ears when any one speaks of gold!

Then, having attended to the legal aspects of the mine, we will all ride over to remain a few days, as visitors to Old Mr. Grizzly! When we get back we ought to have some information worth while!"

"And what about sending for John's friend to come and go with us? If he knew enough to tell you about the lava, he will surely be able to judge about the gold!" ventured Polly, eagerly.

"I think that is a splendid idea, Sam! When we go in to Oak Creek to-morrow, let us send John a day-letter explaining about this cavern,"

added Mrs. Brewster.

"Hain't you-all comin' to supper? Har hev Ah ben and wukked all day hopin' fer a night off to-night!" said Sary, suddenly appearing at the doorway between the living-room and the kitchen.

Every one started for she had not made a sound before speaking, so no one knew how much she had over-heard. Mrs. Brewster quickly replied, however.

"Why, Sary! I didn't know you wished to go out! I could have attended to supper myself, had you asked me!"

"Ah hain't planned to go out--Ah said a 'night off,' Mis' Brewster,"

said Sary, hardly deigning to wait for an answer, but looking at the girls with an impatient frown.

"Mother, we really must wash before supper!" said Polly.

Sary tossed her head. Mrs. Brewster knew what that meant, so she urged the girls to forego any lengthy toilets and merely wash away the worst signs of travel.

Sary was pacified when Eleanor came out of the room and handed her a large paper bundle.

"Sary, I have a little present for you because we made so much trouble to-night."

"Oh, Miss Nolla, Ah'm much obleeged t' you-all. Ah don' mind trouble, onny yoh see Ah expec' comp'ny to-night."

It took Sary but an instant to open the package and when she beheld a ruffled organdy dress discarded by Barbara the previous season and accidentally packed in the trunk with other clothes, she rolled her eyes heavenward.

"Miss Nolla! Is this fine gown'd fer me?"

Eleanor stifled a laugh but Sary made as if she would clasp the girl in her powerful arms, so discretion was needed. Eleanor backed behind the kitchen chair.

"Miss Nolla, Ah wonder ef a widder of seven months' standin' mought wear little yaller rose-buds on a dress, like-ez-how this is?"

"Certainly, Sary," came from Mrs. Brewster, who now joined the two.

"It's not the color or quant.i.ty of clothes as much as the sincerity of one's mourning."

Quite unintentionally, Mrs. Brewster touched upon a tender spot. In fact, so tender was it, that Sary blamed Bill for having died so recently instead of two years back. She might have now been ending her second year of mourning!

Eleanor being trained to the wiles of polite society, saw and understood Sary's flash of resentment, so she turned to Mrs. Brewster with the remark:

"I've heard said, that the highest regard a widow can pay her departed, is, to take a second husband. It speaks well for her happiness with the first one, you see."

Mrs. Brewster stared at Eleanor but Sary smirked and quickly replied:

"You-all is right, Miss Nolla! A widder what hez ben _so_ happy that she gits lonesome whiles thinkin' of her departed, hez a right t' find a second husban'."

Mrs. Brewster choked a laugh as she saw the sublime look in the help's eyes, and hurried out. Eleanor then suggested:

"Now you run away and beautify yourself, Sary, and I will wash the dishes to-night."

Sary needed no second invitation and in another moment she had disappeared to her "boudoir" back of the b.u.t.tery.

Eleanor was as good as her word, for she was soon busy with dish-water and mop, rattling the china, and banging pans about as if noise and bustle were sure signs of hard work and energy. Polly laughed as she cleared away the remains of the meal and then caught up a towel to dry the dishes. As they worked the two girls talked.

"Poll, now that you have this gold mine, what will you do with all the wealth that is yours?" asked Eleanor.

Polly held a decorated plate in front of her face to hide her smile, and pretended to be looking for grease on its surface. When she had straightened her face again, she said: "Oh, I'm going away to school, first of all. I'm not so sure that I want to stay in Denver, now that you have told me all about Chicago. I'll write for catalogues of schools there; and then I can see John quite often during the school year."

"Just what I would have suggested, Poll! Then you can live at home with me. Dad and you and I will have the best times!"

To accentuate her approval of Polly's premature plans, Eleanor swished the dish-mop wildly up and down in the soapy water, but the suds flew up lightly, as soapsuds will, and a bubble burst in Polly's eye.

"Oo-h! Stop throwing dish water in my face, Nolla!" cried Polly, with eyes screwed shut and one free hand trying to rub the smarting lye from her eye.

"I never did, Polly! It must have splashed accidentally when I was washing the pan."

"You have done nothing since you began the dishes, but rattle and swash that mop about in the pan as if you were mining the ore from the cave,"

complained Polly, as she managed to open her eyes again.

"I suppose it is because we are so excited over the find, and all it means for you, Polly," explained Eleanor, contritely.

"It doesn't mean much more, now, than before. The thing I am most happy over, is that Old Man Montresor will be vindicated, and people will stop jeering at me, and at what they called his locoed ideas."

The conversation was interrupted at this moment by the appearance of Sary. She first poked her head from the partly opened door of her room and then said: "Is any one about to see me?"

Polly turned to make sure that they were alone in the kitchen, and Eleanor replied: "No, what is it, Sary?"

Then the maid stepped forth and such a vision! She had curled her red hair on a pair of old-fashioned tongs. The curling irons were but a quarter of an inch in diameter and they were heated by thrusting them into the living embers of the kitchen fire. When Sary drew the comb through her scanty tresses they took on the appearance of carrot-colored cotton threads which had just been ripped out of an old garment--so crinkly and frizzed were the strands of hair. The flowered organdy dress that Eleanor had given Sary to wear for the great occasion of receiving a caller, was much too small for the buxom widow, and she was in great distress about it. This brought her out to ask advice of the girls.

"Why bother to wear the dress, Sary, until you have had time to alter it for yourself?" asked Polly.

"Why, Polly! Ah has to keep up my looks now that comp'ny is lookin' my way again. Ef you-all hadn't such fine city gals at home, what wears th' latest fashions so that Jeb can't help but see what's what, Ah woulden' have to worry so much about looks. But a woman has to keep up when other women set the pace, 'specially ef she is a widow, like-as-how Ah am now."

Eleanor laughed appreciatively and said: "Sary is just like Bob, when it comes to that! It is the eternal feminine, Poll, that drives both Bob and Sary to the verge of tears, because they cannot catch their beaux with their good looks."

Sary smirked self-consciously at Eleanor's words, for she thought she was being coupled with Barbara and her attractions. Sary felt quite sure that she was good-looking and winsome, but she had to hear Eleanor's words to make her believe she was fascinating.

"If I was Sary, I'd wear a nice clean blouse and a linen skirt. It would be far more comfortable than that awfully tight gown," remarked Polly.

But the help scorned such simplicity and turned to Eleanor for further advice about her appearance. The latter, wise in her years, turned her head on one side and appeared to be debating.

"Seems to me, Sary, that putting on that organdy just as it is, without fixing it over a bit, may make Jeb suspicious of its not being made for you. He may even go so far as to wonder if Bob handed it down to you.

Now you do not want him to dream that you did not have it made to order for yourself, so why not take it off until you can remodel it to fit yourself, like new?"

Sary pondered this suggestion for a few moments, and then said: "Ah ain't got no fancy dress to wear, onny this, Miss Nolla. Ef Ah puts on my black alpaky, he'll remember 'bout Bill, and sech memories allus dampen a man's plans to pop th' question."