OCR Text |
Show , 1 v . L v X.;.. i vps, resting on Pike's feak, saw ""l.v n closet 111 loci will, dancing rooks, una a while fur wrap that slio had never worn. She had to while to keep thf tears out or her r.V's ns she vowed audibly: "I'll write tuninht and' tell Dad everything. Didn't lie say that homesickness might as well be fatal? He'll understand. He'll send for mo If he has to borrow the money for the ticket. Jack will call me a slacker, but who cares? I Just can't stand It here. I'd almost rather die than slay. What can there possibly bo to Interest a girl like me in a dreadful, ramshackle, down-at-the-heel settlement like 1'ine Ridge, Colorado?" Col-orado?" Later Nancy was to realize that as she stood there, oblivious to everything save self-pity, she hadn't known what sort of girl she was. exclaimed: "You really lived through things like that?" "Why nut?" asked the old lady calmly. "This was nothing but wilderness wil-derness wheu I was born. As you've heard tell, my first home was a covered cov-ered wagon which, naturally, I don't remember. I do remember a house with a dirt floor and a stone fireplace fire-place In one comer, however; and dimly recall the furniture made from poles and rough-hewn lumber. It was home, and nothing to be ashamed of, because no one else nearby bad anything better." "Eut wasn't It frightfully cold?" said Nancy. "A dirt floor, I mean?" "I suppose it must have been at this altitude; but Mother took care that I shouldn't suffer, of course. I was warm and cozy 1 It was my mother who suffered. Men caii stand hardships better than women; : , 1 j CHAPTER IV Continued 6 ., nlP married to Victor Tubhs -W' years? You should be Matthew Adam. I don't o in divorce; and I wouldn't vour brother if I was a Ionian ami he the only male l;e lD i'ine KiJse. lie's got a oiture, jinrk Adam has; and v,;s said, give me a faithful V'none at all. Help your-another your-another slice, Matthew, If ' .' co hungry you have to lick "wtli'g off your fingers. And ''toii'd better be starting along ;',' fhese young folks will want '".a unpacking; and If you've .;-3:e good, thick cotton stock- Nancy, I advise you getting ; .ju double quick. Did you .jail the way from Massachu-!,?in Massachu-!,?in that dress? It looks real you'll give me your trunk lj admire to unpack for you." v.-, doubt you would," spoke up l-j Columbine, "but it's high '.'jco were thinking about our r Aurora. Better take more i to munch on the way home, j-i-and here's a couple of dollars i owe you." -JM for?" asked Mark, puzzled od the proffered money. -.r carting those trunks and us, i donkey," she replied. vest thundering prairie dogs !" r:,ied Mark. "Do you take us pair of gyps, Miss Columbine? ion, Matt, we better get going, i, :ady wants to pay us for a lit-! lit-! latter of lifting trunks !" i.e cake was pay enough, Miss .rJjne," Matthew assured her j a shy smile. "We wouldn't j:S of taking any money. Good-fi-er good-night, everybody," Tike's Teak stood out gloriously clear against the sky. "it's gorgeous, isn't' it?" breathed Nancy, truly impressed. "I rm sure I'm going to love this room." Cousin Columbine smiled. "It's our best, and I'm glad to see that you appreciate ' it. Jack will be next to you with only n door between. be-tween. I sleep downstairs; and as I stated In my letter, Aurora goes home at night. Victor Tubbs is an invalid, or thinks he is, which amounts to the same thing, and his wife has supported him for years; a state of affairs that satisfies them both, though it makes me furious. However, it's none of my business; and if Aurora wants to work her fingers to the bone for such a lazy specimen, why worry, as Mark Adam would say? Now I'll leave you in peace." The old lady moved toward the door, then stopped to add: "If you need a lamp, the matches are in that tin box on the wall. Supper's at six sharp, so Aurora can get home to feed her precious Victor. There's water in the pitcher, but you may wash in the bathroom If you prefer." pre-fer." She was gone at last, leaving Nance rather breathless with instructions. Jack had departed to his own quarters, quar-ters, and the girl stood quite still, looking about curiously. She had meant the view, of course, when she told Cousin Columbine that she loved the room. Now, sitting down suddenly on a straight, uncomfortable uncomfort-able "bedroom chair," she wondered how it was possible to get so many ugly things into one place. The bed ! Towering black walnut, ornately carved. It was cold comfort com-fort to remember that her grandfa- There's nothing," observed Jack from the door of his northeast bedroom, bed-room, "like good, thick, sirloin steak to bolster up a morale that's slipping. Remember that, Sis." It was eleven at night, and Nancy, attired in a wadded dressing gown of crimson silk, turned from the bureau bu-reau to ask coldly: "May I inquire whose morale you have in mind?" Her brother smiled as he investigated inves-tigated the patent rocking chair. "I'm no moron, Nance. I knew when I found you staring out of the window in the dusk, that you were planning your escape. That's why I opened the door into this frigid hall. The aroma of broiling steak was In the air and I felt sure it would revive that fainting spirit-stiffen spirit-stiffen the backbone stir your pioneer pio-neer blood " "Hush up," warned Nancy. "Our voices will disturb Cousin Columbine, Colum-bine, and she admitted sitting up to an unheard of hour. Say I" the girl came nearer, whispering: "Did you ever see anything more more soul destroying than this room?" Jack grinned, gesturing with a thumb toward his own quarters. "You should see mine! Not even a view, niy dear; and It lacks this' handsome walnut furniture!" The boy's eyes shone with merriment; and though she wouldn't have believed be-lieved such a proceeding possible a few hours earlier, Nance laughed a little. She didn't realize that after a leave of absence her sense of humor hu-mor was returning, but she knew that something made her feel better. bet-ter. "It was a wonderful supper, wasn't it?" she murmured. "Trust you to appreciate it! And "You Really Lived Through Thirds Like That?" and even In those rough days Father Fa-ther seemed always to be well, my dears, to express it as you would, he seemed to be having the time of his young life." "Did that cabin stand where this house does now?" Jack questioned. "Very nearly. It was a bleak spot then. Except for the big pine beside be-side the barn, Father planted every tree himself after he built the mansion." man-sion." "But why, when there was plenty of land to choose from, didn't von i THE STORY FROM THE BEGINNING Ruined, financially, by the stock market crash, James Nelson, Boston merchant, breaks the news to his household. Nance, his daughter, nineteen, Is on the verge of her introduction to society. A short time before, an elderly cousin of Nelson's, Columbine, had written suggesting that Nance come to her at Pine Ridge, Colo., as a paid companion. The offer had been regarded as a Joke. Jack, Nancy's seventeen-year-old brother, urges her to accept Cousin Columbine's proposition, thus relieving their father of a certain financial burden, and offering to go with her so that she will not feel too lonely. The girl does not like the idea, but agrees that Jack write to Cousin Columbine, and they will await her answer. Columbine wires welcome to both of them, and despite some misgivings it is arranged that the two shall go. At the railroad station they are welcomed by Cousin Columbine. Somewhat dismayed by her unconventional attire and mannerisms, man-nerisms, they realize she has character. The driver of their car is a young friend of the old lady, Mark Adam. The desolation (to Nance's city ideas) of Pine Ridge appalls the girl. The newcomers meet Aurora Tubbs, Cousin Columbine's cook and housekeeper, and Matthew Adam, Mark's older brother. build back in the woods where It was more sheltered?" "Fear of two things," responded Cousin Columbine. "Fire, and Indians. In-dians. If the savages were to attack at-tack us, we at least had a chance to see them approaching If we were in the open. And a forest fire's a terrible thing In the wilderness, Jack. I recall when I was a tiny girl, watching one at night with my courageous little mother. We were all alone, father having gone to Call-ifornia Call-ifornia Gulch in search of gold. That fire was a terrifying sight, my dears. It must have been miles off, but looked almost near enough to touch. The growth was very thick and tall just there, and the flames seemed to leap from tree to tree, and as they reached the top, shoot up into the air, far up, higher than you'd believe possible, before subsiding. sub-siding. I have never forgotten it." Nancy shivered ; and Cousin Columbine Co-lumbine continued : "So you see why we built in this bare place." "And did your father find the gold?" Jack questioned. "Not then. Not ever, to any great amount. It was Leadville silvor which built this mansion; but poor Mother never saw it. She died in 1874, when I was fifteen. A wonderful won-derful woman, my dears. She had the true pioneer spirit, but not the body to stand up under the pioneer hardships. She was only thirty-five when she left us to join my little brother who died in infancy." There followed a silence until Cousin Columbine exclaimed: "Dear me! Here I am dwelling on the past like an old woman ; when what I started out to tell you was why I wrote that idiotic letter. You see, my mother instilled into me the knowledge that we came of gentle people finer people, perhaps, than some of our good neighbors. She was an orphan, with no near relatives rela-tives of her own; but she was very proud of the Nelson connections, and always kept us up to certain standards. If we lived in a cabin with a dirt floor, at least, there were spotless curtains at the windows, win-dows, and we ate off a white cloth a clean one, tool I think her dream was to send me Fast for nn education; edu-cation; and long as they lived she corresponded with Father's parents, par-ents, something he might have neglected to do himself. L.n.!er she wrote down the names of the younger members of his family, among them your Grandfather Nelson's, Nel-son's, Father's half-brother, telling me that If I were left alone and needed help, I was to appeal to them." 'It must seem strange never to have seen any of your own penpie," commented Jack. "Not only strange," :M Co!in Columbine, "but sad, In a way. . It was that sadness which c.niM-d me to make a refoiii.n to see .:re one belonging to me ?t:;e one of my own blood, before I !d." (TO r:E CONT:XfEL.) Med, and hurrying to escape, : led with Aurora at the door, ij caused still further confute confu-te voting man apologizing, his i-scarlet; and Aurora demanding L'in why he didn't look where as going. "Lud knows I'm not so small he ' lo miss me In the landscape," I i complained as Matthew van- !'J, his ears pink with embar- feat, a wedge of the precious . i! In hand. "If that's a third of cake you're cutting for your-1 your-1 i'. Hark Adam, you'd better go V on your supper or I won't be I f rotable for how you'll feel come ' 'yM- That's a rich cake ; rich- i common because of company. If don't hurry Matthew will get first with all the news." 'I'" sure do speed the parting ' K Aurora," he commented, "but ' li row worry about that news. ;wtake poor Matt before that V Wsb has had time to subside. ' 'night, Miss Columbine. The ip was bully." (-fre was surely nothing shy i H this young man, thought ; '"'7, as he extended a friendly lo all of them (not omitting '' D; lifted his third slice of from 'he platter, and said: '; H In tomorrow and see if ?I( sot acclimated." " "PPearances he was ad- ;slS Jack; but his eyes were on hand Aurora burst out as the n closed; "I warn you straight : Nelson, that you must 'WWng Mark Adam says to ' grnln of lt. He's as as an April snow storm ; I 2 more Pine Ridge lino anyone on record up to ' , ero's a" innocent look ,; ? 'hat makes me tremble, , " m.v duty-" (, j f P!" commanded Cousin j,; while Jack found sudden ... . nil'e landscape. So Nance rk r,nt! That wns a WVe t0 write tllflt to j rsw- And wasn't It distinctly if'Z 1 tllerewere to be no ( TK'niKi' was m!Shty queer t, 1 Columbine, mused the s;w le window. She was i ft thin J'0U d eXpeCt fr0m hpr 0 U. There was certainly rl fm'prislng rolat've. Tme eil0l,Kh : S,?VPike's Peak iS ! n Ud- 1 wa"t to show ijrT lt -ts too -rHt VaKS nl0"S an(1 10 ct c l1.Hare,Snyyou're f ; bl lamps II '"'h. Ti ! 1 can Provide 1 Nwiiin airs are stepp; bS1"?8 Were stylish when the !,!? nmnsin, and he (:,, t. There, ,T1 like y and I hope '"'"Hullo, 6 lsn't a fincr fNiiSlUUl,1Ce(i Columbine 1Pt"v :3,.!f value of :' la V hervlew- Even fl, st deepening twilight, i ther had had one almost as hideous at Edgemere. A bureau to match; even a washstand, behind which hung a square of linen to protect the wallpaper. Hadn't she heard somewhere that they were called "splashers" in the dark ages when people used such things? Nancy arose to regard this curious cu-rious antique on which, embroidered in red cotton, was an Infant splashing splash-ing happily in a wash bowl, with the words, "Our Darling," below It. Horrors ! Must she live with this monstrous baby for months and months? Must she wash in that bowl even brush her teeth Into it? The girl could have wept for her own tiled dressing room ; then remembered re-membered that it was hers no longer long-er anyway. She turned slowly to observe a marble-topped table between be-tween the windows a patent rocking rock-ing chair upholstered in flowered carpet a shelf above the air-tight stove on which stood two blue vases and what appeared to be a mound of mineral specimens mysteriously glued together, with a clock in the center, a silent timepiece now, probably prob-ably useless save as an "ornament." Nancy's eyes lifted to the wall paper, a nondescript, faded tan, which, she decided, "might be worse." But the pictures (only two, thank goodness!) were simply terrible: ter-rible: an oil painting of a deformed looking kitten playing with a ball of yarn, nnd a steel engraving of General Grant. Could anything be more depressing? As if to get away from all these objects, Nance moved to a window, half sick at thought of the Jong weeks ahead. Night was descending, descend-ing, and even the Peak, rising now against a gloomy sky, looked austere and forbidding. All the excitement of their arrival the elation she had felt during the wonderful ride in Mark Adam's flivver her Interest in this new part of her own countryeven coun-tryeven the girl's sense of humor, were lost in an attack of overwhelming overwhelm-ing homesickness. Aunt Louise had been right, she told herself. They shouldn't have come so far. This terrible room! And what In the world was she going go-ing to do with herself when the duties du-ties that Cousin Columbine imposed were .finished? There would be nothing absolutely no way to lull time. This thought, to pleasure-loving pleasure-loving Nancy Nelson, was appalling not to be endured. Her unhappy what swell china! I wish Aunt Lou could see it." "It came from Denver in 18 well eighteen-something-or-oth-er, anyway. There's a complete dinner din-ner set. Imagine choosing that awful aw-ful green-brown pattern ! And Cousin Columbine's so proud of it, too. now on earth does she remember re-member the date that everything was purchased?" Jack shook his head, remarking in muffled tones: "She's a wonder, isn't she? Who else would have thought of cooking up that letter as a what did she call it? Character test? You've got an awful lot to live up to, Sis, if you ask me. Hop Into bed. I'll open the windows. And don't forget that breakfast's at seven sharp." Sleep did not come quickly to Nance that night. She lay there under a patchwork quilt (whose weight, she wrote Aunt Judy later, was "almost crushing"), and thought about the evening that had just passed. There must bo some truth In Jack's statement regarding the sirloin steak. What else could account ac-count for her more cheerful frame of mind? There was no doubt that Aurora could cook a steak; and with unexpected un-expected tact, Jack had done most of the talking, leaving his sister free to get herself In hand after what she now called her "brain storm." And when Aurora had gone, Jack carried that awful lamp into the sitting room and Cousin Columbine remarked casually, cas-ually, though her eyes twinkled: "I suppose you're thinking nie an outrageous out-rageous humbug. Sit down, my dears, while I confess." This confession with Its illuminating illuminat-ing detours into the past had kept Columbine Nelson talking until long after her customary bedtime. "I'm going clear back to the beginning," be-ginning," she explained, "so you'll understand, if possible, just why I posed ns a tottering old relic, too frail to stay alone at ivight. The truth is, there's nothing to be afraid of here, and if there were I wouldn't turn a hair. To one who can remember re-member the Indian troubles of 1M"S. and as a child has hidden for hours in fear of hostile savages, well yon can readilv see why an ordinary prowler would be tame in comparison compari-son !" She looked up smiling; w.u.c Jack, eyes popping out of his Hcn.l, |