The Merriweather Girls and the Mystery of the Queen's Fan Part 4

Who ever heard of such a thing? Bet found her crying because she didn't have room enough to breathe. Mark my words, she's not very bright. Something very queer about a girl who thinks like that.

'Tisn't natural. I really shouldn't allow her to stay and a.s.sociate with Bet."

"We'll leave that to Colonel Baxter, he'll know what to do."

"Him? He'll shake hands with that girl as if she were the Queen of Sheba or that Mary Antynetty he talks about. And after that she can have the run of the house."

"That's so, that's so!" agreed Nat Gibbs from long habit of agreeing with his wife. But while Auntie Gibbs stormed, and at times, raged over the way the Colonel was training his daughter, she never did try to take matters into her own hands, as she often threatened to do.

"'Tain't his system that's working, let me tell you. It just happens."

Then after having had her say, the old woman dropped the subject to bustle about her kitchen and prepare a special supper for Bet and her chums, a thing she loved to do.

When Kit was led into the great entrance hall, she could only stare in amazement. It was as grand as she had imagined the palace of a king might be. The stained-gla.s.s windows that usually sent shafts of colored light across the floor, now gave a somber effect as of a dimly-lighted cathedral. A broad, winding stairway led to the floor above.

Kit stood in the center of the hall transfixed by what she saw. It was not the statue of Youth that held her attention. From a golden frame on the wall a face smiled down upon her and it was hard for the girl to believe that it was only a portrait. A fleeting smile seemed to play about the mouth, the delicately curved lips almost quivered and the brown eyes sparkled with joy.

Kit's hands instinctively went out toward the beautiful woman. She stood there smiling up at the portrait, and forgot the girls as they chattered about her.

Bet, who had been watching her closely, ran impulsively to her and threw both arms around the girl's neck.

"Oh you dear, darling thing! I knew you would! You love her already just the same as Shirley and Joy and I do."

"Who is she?" Kit's voice was hardly more than a whisper, she acted as if she had suddenly been brought back to earth after a flight in the clouds.

"It's our Lady of the Manor, Lady Betty Merriweather!"

"O--oh!" gasped Kit, without taking her eyes from the smiling eyes in the picture.

"Come along upstairs, Kit," called Joy as she took the steps two at a time. But the stranger felt that she was on sacred ground and could not have romped as Joy did. She lingered, looking up into the beautiful face.

"I feel just as if she wanted to say something to me," Kit said, as she reluctantly followed Bet.

"I think she does, probably. I know she tells _me_ things sometimes,"

replied Bet seriously. "I love to lie on that divan in the hall and watch her. And she tells me all about the good times they used to have in these very rooms." Bet had dreamed so often beneath the vivacious, smiling face that she had come to believe that Lady Betty really did talk to her.

"It almost seems wicked to live in these rooms after her," murmured Kit, as the two girls went up the stairs slowly, their arms around each others' waists.

"I used to think that, too, until she laughed at me and said, 'Don't be silly, Bet.'"

Shirley and Joy's laughter floated down the stairway. "She really believes all that, Kit. She thinks that Lady Betty comes alive and talks to her."

"Well, I used to think that when I was a little, little girl," laughed Bet.

"And do you remember the day you told me she had called you Betty, and you didn't know whether to be angry or not?" asked Joy.

Bet turned to Kit. "You see I don't like to be called Betty. That name doesn't suit me at all. It's a lovely name for her, but for me it's ridiculous."

"And you'd better remember that, Kit Patten, for she gets angry if anyone calls her that," said the quiet Shirley.

"There's one girl who does it, and she's no friend of Bet's," laughed Joy.

"Oh, that Edith Whalen! She's always horrid, I wish she wouldn't call me anything. I get angry--so angry that I----"

"Ssh! I'll tell you what she does," whispered Joy. "She scratches!"

"I really don't, but I'd like to."

When the new friend was introduced to Auntie Gibbs she made such a good impression that the old lady's heart opened at once and took her in.

But she wouldn't have told Uncle Nat or Bet that for the world.

"Can't we help?" asked Kit.

Bet was about to object but the old woman spoke up quickly. "Of course you can all help. Bet, you and your new friend set the table. And I'll find something for Shirley and Joy to do." Auntie Gibbs was never so happy as she was at times when she had several people to keep busy.

Kit was afraid to touch the exquisite gla.s.sware and silver and beautiful dishes that Bet handled with unconcern.

"Aren't you afraid you'll break them, Bet?" asked the girl.

"I used to be terribly afraid, but now I am used to them and I'm very careful. I just keep my mind on them until I get them on the table.

Dad doesn't like to have anything broken, for all this table stuff is very old."

"Aren't the lights beautiful?" exclaimed Kit gazing up at the old candelabra.

"These lights are the pride of Dad's heart. I have never seen a more beautiful specimen."

"Are they very old?" asked Kit.

"As old as this house and then some, I guess. You see they used to have candles in them for lighting and Dad had electric lights made to look like the candles. I love them. Look at the ones on the walls.

Those are old sconces. They match the chandelier."

Kit looked at the wall brackets as Bet switched on the lights.

"Oh, Bet, I've never seen anything so beautiful. See how that little light is reflected in the mirror behind it."

Bet suddenly rushed to the door. "Oh, Auntie Gibbs," she called. "Has Dad telephoned today?"

"No, not a word."

"Good! That means he'll come home to dinner. I just can't wait another week to have him see Kit."

"And I was mean enough to wish that he would be detained in the city.

My dress looks so badly, I don't like to meet anyone."

"Now never you mind, Kit, my Dad wouldn't care at all," a.s.serted Bet.

"Isn't there a dress of yours she can wear?" asked Auntie Gibbs.

"No, we've tried everything, she's about an inch broader than I am, and she can't get into anything except my bathrobe. Her own dress will look better than that, especially as Dad doesn't like to see girls sitting around in bath robes."