The Pleasant Street Partnership Part 25

"Why, grandfather," cried Alex, "I shall be afraid to bring you again."

"I expect to wake some morning and find the shop has disappeared, leaving no trace of itself," Miss Sarah remarked.

"I trust not," exclaimed Norah. "Where would we be?"

"An enchanted prince would have carried you off," laughed Charlotte.

"Two princes," suggested Miss Virginia.

A sudden gravity fell on Norah, so noticeable that Miss Sarah said, as she turned away, "She seems not to like the idea of the prince."

The days grew long, the air soft and warm; the Terrace gardens bloomed again and the rich foliage of summer succeeded the delicate lace-work of spring. The Russell house was again a Palace Beautiful in its mantle of vines, and the judge sat on the rustic bench beneath the Ginkgo tree, his hands on his stick and a faraway look in his eyes.

Every moment that could be spared from the shop found Marion and Norah off to the country, to return laden with fragrant trophies. The delicate look had gone from Marion's face, and the disfiguring gla.s.ses were rarely seen.

One evening in May an unexpected visitor appeared in the shop. A tall, wiry man, past middle age, with a keen, kindly face.

"Why, Dr. Baird!" cried Norah, "I was just wishing for you."

"You were?" he said, shaking hands. "Anything wrong with my patient?"

"Here she is, to speak for herself," said Marion, entering from the next room.

The physician looked at her long and intently. "I give up," he said at length. "It has worked. You are all right, and"--turning to Norah--"I suppose you think you are very clever, miss. Your wild-goose scheme has been a success."

"You shall not call it names, for it has been the happiest winter of my life," said Marion.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENTH

AN ANNIVERSARY

"Miss Marion, are you here? I am so glad to see you! I have something to show you. Where is Miss Norah?" Charlotte punctuated her breathless remarks with an ardent embrace.

"Why, Charlotte, how rosy you look, and I believe you have grown two inches!" Miss Carpenter had risen to meet her, and now took the brown face in both her hands and smiled into the blue eyes. "It is good to see you again. When did you get home?"

"Early this morning; and now Aunt Virginia has everything out of our trunks--you would think there had been ten instead of two--and she and Martha are putting away, so I ran," Charlotte answered gayly.

It was September again. The shop, which had been closed for a month while its proprietors took a holiday, had reopened, but the days were still warm, and little was doing. This afternoon, with its shaded windows and its autumn decorations of goldenrod and asters, it looked cool and inviting.

Marion, who had been reading when Charlotte entered, laid her book on the table and motioned to a place beside her in the window-seat. "What have you to show me?" she asked.

"You'll never guess, so I shall have to tell you. And, oh, Miss Marion, I want to ask you something, but I'm afraid."

"Am I so very formidable? I can't imagine what it can be. I'll promise not to answer if I do not like the question."

"It isn't that," cried Charlotte. "It is nothing I want you to tell me, it is something I want you to do."

"Then I am more puzzled than ever. Do let me see what you have. Is it a book?"

For answer Charlotte slipped the outer cover from a small green and gold volume and put it into Marion's hand, drawing near and leaning against her shoulder as she did so. "It is Cousin Frank's book," she said. "It came while he was with us at Rocky Point. He gave me the very first. Isn't it a dear?"

Marion turned the leaves in silence. "Love's Reason, and Other Poems,"

the t.i.tle-page said. She turned another leaf, "To One Far Away," was the dedication. She paused here for a moment, then went on turning the pages.

"It is a very pretty little book," she said, in a tone that seemed to Charlotte less interested than the occasion called for.

"I thought you'd like it, because I have talked to you so much about Cousin Frank. And, oh, Miss Marion, it is about Miss Carpenter I want to ask you." Charlotte's head was against Marion's arm, and she did not lift her eyes.

"It was one evening when Cousin Frank and I were sitting on the sand in the moonlight. Some man--I forget his name, but at any rate he is a great critic--stopped us as we were leaving the hotel, to say something very nice about the poems; and I asked Cousin Frank if he were not pleased. He said he was glad, of course, to have it liked, and he valued this man's judgment; but that after all it was for the opinion of just one person he cared the most. I was certain it must be Miss Carpenter, because of the dedication,--that couldn't mean any one else; so I said I knew she must like it. He looked at me in such a funny way and asked what I meant. So I told him what I had guessed, and he did not seem to mind.

"I asked if he had sent her a book, but he said he did not know where she was, and the only person who did know was away, too. Then for a long time he did not say anything; but after a while I slipped my hand in his, and told him I knew she must care,--she couldn't help it,--although I hadn't any idea why she had gone away without letting him know where she was.

"He said if he were sure she did not care at all, he would give it up, for that would be the only manly thing; but until he was sure, he must hope. It was then I began to wonder if you knew where she was, Miss Marion. If you do, couldn't you tell her how much he cares? I don't see why she went away; but Cousin Frank said she had a reason, although he didn't think it was a good one. Could you tell her, Miss Marion?"

"Did you ever say anything to Mr. Landor about the shop or--" Marion left the question unfinished.

"Yes, that very evening I told him I was certain my Miss Carpenter was lovelier than his." Charlotte squeezed the hand she held. "He smiled, and asked a great many questions. But could you tell her?" Charlotte was nothing if not persistent.

This Miss Carpenter, of whom she had grown so fond, was a quiet person, not given to demonstration of any sort, but Charlotte suddenly felt herself drawn into a close embrace, while a very gentle voice said in her ear: "Charlotte, you may tell him I _know_ she cares. I think she was right to go away--she had a reason, but--"

"What is going on here?" broke in Norah's gay tones. "Why, Charlotte, how are you? You two look as if you had been in mischief."

A moment later who should walk in but Mrs. Leigh, looking like an old ivory portrait, her apple-blossom face framed in silver puffs and white frills. "Are you at home, and ready to show your pretty things?

Upon my word, I am glad to see the shop open again. We have missed you."

"Thank you, dear Mrs. Leigh; we are glad to be back again," said Norah, greeting her cordially, while Marion pushed forward a chair and Charlotte brought a cushion.

Mrs. Leigh adored to be waited upon; she beamed graciously on the three. "Thank you, my dears. This is a charming place, and I must say I didn't expect to see you here again."

"Why not? We had no idea of not coming back," Marion said.

"Oh, I have never believed it would last," Mrs. Leigh's bright eyes twinkled. "You are too--well, there is a mystery about you, you know."

"I didn't know. How interesting!" exclaimed Norah, laughing.

"Well, I suppose there is no use in talking about it. You won't tell me. Charlotte, when is your Aunt Caroline expected?"

"They were looking for her in a day or two," Charlotte replied, putting on her hat as she spoke. She did not care to stay and listen to Mrs. Leigh just now.

Marion caught her hand. "May I have the little book for a while?" she whispered.

"I have a piece of news for you," announced the old lady, as Charlotte disappeared.