The Pleasant Street Partnership Part 17

Of course Giant Despair had no idea of going to the party, yet, strange to relate, he went. Miss Sarah Leigh met him striding down the street with two long, gray flannel ears and a beady eye visible above a bulging overcoat pocket. She turned to look after him, and was much amazed to see him disappear presently within the shop.

It was Jack, the flannel donkey, who really won the day. After the visitors had left, Giant Despair stumbled over him as he lay forgotten on the floor. The strange object was at first puzzling. He turned and twisted and felt it, until at length getting the right point of view he recognized it to be a donkey.

A toy animal was no less out of place in that house than a birthday cake. He was going out for his daily walk; he would leave it at the shop door. But once at the door he was lost, for James Mandeville seized upon him joyfully and would not be denied.

It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon, and so a half holiday in the shop; and it seemed to Giant Despair, as he stumbled in looking anything but festive, yet unable to resist his small captor, that there were a great many people a.s.sembled.

It turned out that the only guest was Charlotte Creston, who had been the first to discover James Mandeville bewailing the disappearance of his cake before Mr. Goodman's gate, some hours earlier, and after trying to console him had taken him back to his friends. This seemed to ent.i.tle her to an invitation, which she delightedly accepted. Mammy Belle and Susanna were there, also, to look on.

It is certain that never before in his life had Giant Despair partic.i.p.ated in a scene of such childish gayety. He was exceedingly gruff and awkward, but no amount of gruffness could dismay James Mandeville.

The sight of Giant Despair seated at the small table, personating the fifth guest for whom Miss Pennington a.s.sured him they had been on the lookout, and drinking a cup of tea in lieu of the goodies the young host pressed upon him, was one not soon to be forgotten. After a time he succ.u.mbed to the humor of it, and blew out his candle with the rest.

James Mandeville did his best to be entertaining. He sang, and recited Mother Goose, after which he climbed on Giant Despair's knee and asked for a story.

This was something Giant Despair couldn't do, but he showed the big seals on his watch chain, and dropped some bright new five-cent pieces into the chubby hand.

The old man walked home in a somewhat dazed condition. He told himself roughly that he had turned fool; and yet more than once that evening, as he sat by his lonely fireside, he felt again the pressure of James Mandeville's warm little body upon his knee and heard the childish voice, prompted by Mammy Belle, saying, "Thank you for coming to my party, Mr. Goodman."

CHAPTER NINETEENTH

TEA AND TALK

"I used to think if ever I kept a shop there would be a bell on the door to jingle cheerily whenever a customer entered." Norah spoke from the window where she was occupied in making some changes. Outside the rain fell steadily, the terrace gardens had a soaked, dismal look, and the street was almost deserted, except for an occasional wagon.

"If it will add to your happiness, we will have it put in; but I doubt if you would be able to find one that would ring cheerily,--they usually jangle."

"I suppose that depends somewhat on the hearer; however, we must confine ourselves for the present to the strict necessities of life.

Did it ever occur to you, Marion, how the old-fashioned bell is pa.s.sing? When I was a child, the milkmen heralded their approach with bells; and maids would appear with bowls and pitchers and have the milk measured out to them from large tin cans."

"Your youth must have been in the Dark Ages. I never heard of such a thing."

"I am often impressed by your ignorance of simple matters. Yesterday, out in the southwestern part of this very town, where I went to look for a seamstress, I heard again one of those bells rung l.u.s.tily, and there was the tin can, as of old, riding majestically on the front seat of the wagon; but probably as a concession to modern prejudice the milkman was supplied with bottles, too. Come and tell me what you think of my rainy-day window."

Marion crossed the room. "It looks cheerful," she said, "but I hardly think it will bring us many customers to-day. It is too bad even for James Mandeville."

Norah had ransacked their stock for the brightest draperies, gayest baskets, and oddest jars, making of them a sort of barbaric medley not ungrateful to the eye, which she regarded with satisfaction.

"Well," she said, "if we have no customers, I shall have all the more time to give to collars. I am sorry I could not find a seamstress. I did not dream there would be such a demand."

"And there is probably some one who would be glad to do them if we only knew," said Marion. "Would it be worth while to advertise?"

Not troubled with much custom, the shopkeepers were working and chatting in the south window that afternoon, when Miss Sarah Leigh put her head in at the door.

"I hate to come in, I'm so wet," she said; "I'll leave my umbrella outside."

"You need not mind," said Norah, rising. "As you see, we have a large rubber mat and an umbrella-stand, and this is the first time we have needed them."

"Thank you. I had to go to the grocery, and as Aunt Sally was out of knitting cotton, I dropped in to get some. It is a dreadful day."

Norah pushed a chair to the fire, "Sit down and have a cup of tea.

Miss Carpenter and I are just going to have some."

Miss Sarah accepted the chair. "I have no business to,--I have a thousand things to do; but this seems a veritable haven of rest."

Susanna now entered, a model of the respectable, elderly maid, carrying a tray which she placed before Marion.

"Another cup please, Susanna," said Marion; and while she poured the tea, Norah coaxed the fire into a blaze, remarking that it had fallen into the way of sympathizing with the weather.

"Are you in the habit of treating your customers in this fashion?"

Miss Sarah asked, accepting the cup and helping herself from the plate of warm tea-cakes with which Susanna returned.

"This is a reward to rainy-day callers," answered Marion, smiling.

"Well, you are the most astonishing people I ever came in contact with. I hope you don't mind my saying it," Miss Sarah spoke confidentially. "I don't mean in respect to tea."

"Not at all," laughed Norah. "We, too, have our impressions of the neighborhood."

"I shouldn't be surprised if you had." Miss Sarah joined in the laugh.

"Of course it is no secret to you that the neighborhood did not very much want you, and the way in which you are winning us over is a miracle. Miss Wilbur, Charlotte, Alex, and now you have captured Mr.

Goodman. Charlotte told me about the party. How do you do it?"

"It has all come about through the merest accident," Marion explained.

"Such accidents don't happen to everybody. I think you practise witchcraft."

"James Mandeville and the birthday cake captured Giant Despair," said Norah, the name slipping out before she thought.

"So that is what you call him! Have you named us all? It suits him, too; but poor man, he has had his troubles, as have some of the rest of us." Miss Sarah looked meditatively into the fire. "Soon after he built his house in the Terrace," she continued, "his daughter, an only child, was burned to death. It was a sad thing,--she was just eighteen. Then a nephew whom he adopted turned out a scamp, and now he has lost faith in everything."

While she was speaking the shop door opened to admit Alexina and Charlotte, rosy and wet from a walk in the rain.

"I want a spool of twist," Charlotte announced merrily.

"Won't a cup of tea do? We are serving that at present," Norah asked.

"How pleasant!" Alex exclaimed as they slipped off their wet waterproofs. "Are you always cheerful over here?"

Charlotte sought Miss Carpenter's side. "I like tea," she said, the blue eyes showing, however, a fondness for something more than that innocent beverage. Just now this young lady had a profound fascination for her. Miss Alex and Aunt Virginia might prefer Miss Pennington, Miss Carpenter had her admiration.

"If you need anything more in the way of cheer, I will bring forth the grab-bag," said Norah, as she handed Alex some tea.

"That sounds interesting; do let us have it," begged Miss Sarah.