Three Little Women Part 7

"Have you brought the necessary papers with you? Have we a record in this office?"

"Don' know nuffin' 'tall 'bout no papers nor no records. Jist knows dat Miss Jinny's insured fer $15,000," said Mammy, causing the youth confronting her to open his eyes. "Dis hyer letter what she done wrote dis mawn'in tells all 'bout it I 'spec'. She tol' me pos' it ter de comp'ny an' I reckons _yo'll_ do fer de comp'ny _dis_ time when de time's pressin' an' der ain't nuffin' _better_ ter han'."

The contempt in Mammy's tone was tangible, as she held the letter as far from her as possible. Mr. Sniffins took it, noted the address and broke the seal. When he had read the letter he said with no little triumph in his voice:

"But in this letter Mrs. Carruth says distinctly that she is not prepared to pay the sum which falls due day after to-morrow, and asks for an extension of time. I am not prepared to make this extension.

_That's_ up to the company," and he held the letter toward Mammy as though he washed his hands of the whole affair.

Mammy did not take it. Instead she said very much as she would have spoken to a refractory child who was not quite sure of what he could or could _not_ do: "La Honey, don' yo' 'spose I sensed _dat_ long go?

Co'se I knows _yo'_ cyant do nuffin' much; yo's only a lil' boy, an'

der cyant no boy do a man's wo'k. Yo's hyer fer ter tek in de _cash_, an' so _dat's_ what I done come ter pay. Miss Jinny she done mek up her mine dat she better pay dat policy dan use de money fer frolic'in'. I reckons yo' can tek cyer of it an' sen' it long down yonder whar de big comp'ny 's at. Dat's all I want _yo'_ ter do, so now go 'long an' git busy an' _do_ it. _Dere's_ thirty dollars; count it so's yo's suah. Den write it all out crost de back ob Miss Jinny's letter so's I have sumpin fer ter show dat it's done paid."

"But I'll give you a regular receipt for the amount," said the clerk, now eager to serve a customer whose premium represented so large a policy.

"Yo' kin give me dat too if yo' wantter, but I wants de sign on de letter too, an' yo' full name, Mr. Elijah Sniffins, ter boot, you knows what yo' jist done said 'bout trus'in' folks, an' _yo'_ don'

berlong ter de Rogersers, ner de Wellmans, ner de Stuyvesants, but _I_ berlongs ter de _Blairsdales_!"

Mammy grew nearly three inches taller as she made this statement, while her hearer seemed to grow visibly shorter. The receipt was duly filled out, likewise an acknowledgment written upon the blank side of Mrs. Carruth's letter and Elijah Sniffins' name signed thereto. Mammy took them scrutinized both with great care (she could not read one word) nodded and said:

"Huh, Um. Yas, sir. I reckon _dat_ all squar'. If de house burn down ter night _we_ all gwine git de 'surance sure 'nough. Yas--yas."

"You certainly could collect whatever was comin' to you," Mr. Sniffins a.s.sured her, his late supercilious smile replaced by a most obsequious one for this representative of the possessors of the dollars he worshiped. Mr. Sniffins meant to have a good many dollars himself some day and the luxuries which dollars stand for.

Mammy nodded, and placing the receipt and letter in her bag gave a slight nod and turned to leave the office. Mr. Sniffins hurried to open the door for her. As she was about to cross the threshold she paused, eyed him keenly from the crown of his smoothly brushed head to his patent-leather-shod feet and then asked:

"Hucc.u.m yo' opens de do' fer n.i.g.g.e.rs? Ef yo' b'longed ter de quality yo'd let de n.i.g.g.e.rs open de do's fer _yo_. Yo' better run 'long an'

ten' yo' ma's sody foun'in 'twell yo' learns de quality manners."

An hour later Mammy was busy in her kitchen, the receipts safely pinned within her bodice and no one the wiser for the morning's business transaction.

CHAPTER VIII

Chemical Experiments

"Eleanor! Eleanor! where are you?" cried Constance at the foot of the third-story stairs the following day after luncheon.

Blue Monday had pa.s.sed with its dull gray clouds and chill winds to give place to one of those rare, warm days which sometimes come to us late in October, as though the glorious autumn were loath to depart and had turned back for a last smile upon the land it loved.

The great river lay like shimmering liquid gold, the air was filled with the warm, pungent odors of the late autumn woods, and a soft haze rested upon the opposite hills.

"Here in my room," answered Eleanor. "What is it? What do you want? I can't come just this minute. Come up if it's important." The voice was somewhat m.u.f.fled as though the speaker's head were covered.

Constance bounded up the stairs, hurried across the hall and entered the large third-story front room which Eleanor occupied. There was no sign of its occupant.

"More experiments I dare say," she murmured as she entered, crossed the room and pushed open the door leading into a small adjoining room whereupon her nostrils were a.s.sailed by odors _not_ of Araby--the blessed.

"Phew! Ugh! What an awful smell! What under the sun are you doing? If you don't blow yourself to glory some day I shall be thankful," she ended as she pinched her nostrils together.

"Shut the door quick and don't let the smell get through the house or mother will go crazy when she gets home. Yes, it _is_ pretty bad, but tie your handkerchief over your nose and then you won't mind it so much. As for blowing myself to glory, perhaps that will be my only way of ever coming by any, so I ought to be willing to take that route.

But what do you want?" concluded Eleanor, pouring one smelly chemical into a small gla.s.s which contained another, whereupon it instantly became a most exquisite shade of crimson.

Constance watched her closely without speaking. Presently she said:

"Well I dare say it is 'everyone to her fancy,' as the old lady said when she kissed her cow (Jean could appreciate that, couldn't she? She kisses Baltie often enough) but _I'd_ rather be excused when chemical experiments are in order. Don't for the life of me understand how you endure the smells and the mess. What is _that_ horrid looking thing over there?" and Constance pointed to a grewsome-looking object stretched upon a small gla.s.s table at the farther side of the room.

"My rabbit. I got it at the school laboratory and I've been examining its respiratory organs. They're perfectly wonderful, Constance. Want to see them? I'll be done with this in just a minute."

"_No I don't!_" was the empathic negative. "I dare say it's all very wonderful and interesting and I ought to know all about breathing apparatus----_es_, or apparatti, or whatever the plural of our wind-pump machine _is_, but if I've got to learn by hashing up animals I'll never, _never_ know, and that's all there is about it. I'll take my knowledge on theory or supposition or whatever you call it. But I've nearly forgotten to tell you the news. I've had a letter from Mrs.

Hadyn, Mr. Stuyvesant's aunt, the one he is named for you know, asking me to help at the candy counter at the Memorial Hospital Fair, week after next, and, incidentally, contribute some of my 'delicious pralines and nut fudge'--that's in quotes remember,--and remain for the dance which will follow after ten-thirty on the closing evening. She will see that I reach home safely. How is _that_ for a frolic? I've been wild for a dance the past month."

"Is mother willing? What will you wear?" was the essentially feminine inquiry which proved that Eleanor, even though absorbed in her sciences and isms, was a woman at heart.

"What is the use of asking that? You know I've got to wear whatever is on hand to be utilized into gay and festive attire. I can't indulge in new frocks now-a-days when the finances are at such a low ebb. Need all we've got for necessities without thinking of spending money for notions. But I'll blossom out gloriously; see if I don't. That was one reason I came up to talk to you. Can you tear yourself away from your messes long enough to come up to the attic with me? I've been wanting to rummage for days, but haven't been able to get around to it. So tidy up, and come along. You've absorbed enough knowledge to last you for one while."

Eleanor wavered a moment and then began to put aside her materials, and a few moments later the two girls were up in the attic.

"Do you know what I believe I'll do?" said Constance, after a half hour's rummaging among several trunks had brought forth a perplexing array of old finery, winter garments and outgrown apparel. "I believe I'll just cart down every solitary dud we've got here and have them all aired. I heard mother say last week that they ought to be, and she would have it done the first clear, dry day, and this one is simply heavenly. Come on; take an armful and get busy. They smell almost as abominably from tar camphor as your laboratory smells of chemicals."

"Think I'd rather have the chemicals if my choice were consulted,"

laughed Eleanor as obedient to instructions, she gathered up an armful of clothing and prepared to descend the stairs.

"Thanks, I'll take the tar. Go on; I'll follow."

Little was to be seen of either girl as she moved slowly down the stairs. At the foot stood Mammy.

"Fo' de Lawd sake wha' yo' chillen at _now_?" she demanded as she stood barring their progress.

"Bringing out our winter wardrobes, Mammy. Good deal of it as to quant.i.ty; what it will turn out as to quality remains to be seen,"

cried Constance cheerily.

"Lak' 'nough mos' anyt'ing if yo' had de handlin' ob it. Yo' sartin'

_is_ de banginest chile wid yo' han's," was Mammy's flattering reply.

"Perhaps if I could 'bang' as well with my brains as with my hands I might amount to something, Mammy. But Nornie has all the brains of the family. _She_'ll make our fame and fortune some day; see if she doesn't."

"Guess I'll have to do something clever then if I am to become famous in _this_ day and age," said Eleanor, as she made her way past Mammy.

"Thus far I haven't given very n.o.ble promise."

"Who sesso?" demanded Mammy. "Ain' yo' de fust and fo'most up dere whar de school's at? What fur ole Miss sendin' yo' dar fer den? Huh, I reckon _she_ know whar ter spen' her money, an' Gawd knows she ain'

spendin' none what ain' gwine ter pintedly make up fer all she gin out. _She_ no fool, I tell yo'."

The girls broke into peals of laughter, for Mammy's estimation of "ol'

Miss," as she called Mr. Carruth's aunt by marriage, was a pretty accurate one, "Aunt Eleanor" being a lady who had very p.r.o.nounced ideas and no hesitation whatever in giving expression to them, as well as a very strong will to back them up. She also had a pretty liberally supplied purse, the supply being drawn from a large estate which she had inherited from her father, a Central New York farmer, who had made a fortune in fruit-growing and ended his days in affluence, although he had begun them in poverty. She had no children, her only son having died when a child, and her husband soon afterward. Bernard Carruth had always been a favorite with her, although she never forgave him for what she p.r.o.nounced his "utter and imbecilic folly." It was Aunt Eleanor who made the seminary possible for the niece who had been named for her; a compliment which flattered the old lady more than she chose to let others suspect, for the niece was manifesting a fine mind, and the aunt had secretly resolved to do not a little toward its development although she took pains to guard the fact.

"Go along up-stairs and get an armful of things, Mammy. That will keep you from flattering me and making me conceited," cried Eleanor, when the laugh ended.