The Poor Little Rich Girl Read online

  CHAPTER II

  The nursery was on the top-most floor of the great stone house--this forsunshine and air. But the sunshine was gone when Gwendolyn returned fromher drive, and a half-dozen silk-shaded lights threw a soft glow overthe room. To shut out the chill of the spring evening the windows weredown. Across them were drawn the heavy hangings of rose brocade.

  There was a lamp on the larger of the nursery tables, a tall lamp,almost flower-like with its petal-shaped ruffles of lace and chiffon. Itmade conspicuous two packages that flanked it--one small and square; theother large, and as round as a hat-box. Each was wrapped in white paperand tied with red string.

  "Birthday presents!" cried Jane, the moment she spied them; and sprangforward. "Oh, I wonder what they are! What do _you_ guess, Gwendolyn?"

  Gwendolyn followed slowly, blinking against the light. "I can't guess,"she said without enthusiasm. The glass-fronted case was full of toys,none of which she particularly cherished. (Indeed, most of them werecarefully wrapped from sight.) New ones would merely form an addition.

  "Well, what would you _like?_" queried Jane, catching up the smallpackage and shaking it.

  Gwendolyn suddenly looked very earnest.

  "Most in the whole _world?_" she asked.

  "Yes, what?" Jane dropped the small package and shook the large one.

  "In the whole, whole big world?" went on Gwendolyn--to herself ratherthan to her nurse. She was not looking at the table, but toward acurtained window, and the gray eyes had a tender faraway expression.There was a faint conventional pattern in the brocade of the heavyhangings. It suggested trees with graceful down-growing boughs. Sheclasped her hands. "I want to live out in the woods," she said, "atJohnnie Blake's cottage by the stream that's got fish in it."

  Jane set the big package down with a thump. "That's _awful_ selfish ofyou," she declared warmly. "For you know right well that Thomas and _I_wouldn't like to leave the city and live away out in the country._Would_ we, Thomas?"--for he had just entered.

  "Cer-tain-ly _not_," said Thomas.

  "And it'd give poor Miss Royle the neuralgia," (Jane and Miss Roylemight contend with each other; they made common cause against _her_.)

  "But none of you'd _have_ to" assured Gwendolyn. "When I was at JohnnieBlake's that once, just Potter went, and Rosa, and Cook. And Rosabuttoned my dresses and gave me my bath, and--"

  "So Rosa'll do _just_ as well as me," interrupted Jane, jealously.

  "--And Potter passed the dishes at table," resumed Gwendolyn, ignoringthe remark; "and _he_ never hurried the best-tasting ones."

  "Hear that will you, Thomas!" cried Jane. "Mr. _Potter_ never hurriedthe best-tastin' ones!"

  Thomas gave her a significant stare. "I tell you, a certain person isgrowin' keen," he said in a low voice.

  Jane took Gwendolyn by the arm. "Put all that Johnnie Blake nonsense outof your head," she commanded. "Folks that live in the woods don't knownothin'. They're silly and pokey."

  Gwendolyn shook her head with deliberation. "Johnny Blake wasn't pokey,"she denied. "He had a willow fishpole, and a string tied to it. And hecaught shiny fishes on the end of the string."

  "Johnnie Blake!" sniffed Jane. "Oh, I know all about _him_. Rosa toldme. He's a common, poor little boy. And"--severely--"I, for _one_, can'tsee why you was ever allowed to play with him!...

  "Now, darlin',"--softening--"here we stand fussin', and you ain't evenguessed what your presents are. Guess something that's real fine:something you'd like in the city, pettie." She began to unwrap thelarger of the packages.

  "Oh," said Gwendolyn. "What I'd like in the _city_. Well,"--suddenlybetween her brows there came a curious, strained little wrinkle--"I'dlike--"

  The white paper fell away. A large, round box was disclosed. To it wastied a small card.

  "This is from your papa!" cried Jane. "Oh, let's see what it is!"

  The wrinkle smoothed. A smile broke,--like sudden sunlight after clouds,and shadow. Then there poured forth all that had filled her heart duringthe past months:

  "I'd like to eat at the grown-up table with my fath-er and my moth-er,"she declared; "and I don't want to have a nurse any more like a baby!and I want to go to _day_-school."

  Jane gasped, and her big hands fell from the round box. Thomas stared,and reddened even to his ears, which were large and over-prominent. Toboth, the project cherished so long and constantly was in the nature ofa bombshell.

  "Oh-ho!" said Jane, recovering herself after a moment. "So me and Thomasare to be thrown out of our jobs, are we?"

  Gwendolyn looked mild surprise. "But you don't _like_ to be here," shereminded. "And you and Thomas wouldn't have to work any more; you couldjust play all the time." She smiled up at them encouragingly.

  Thomas eyed Jane. "If we ain't careful," he warned in a low voice, "andlet a certain party talk too much at headquarters--"

  The other nodded, comprehending "I'll look sharp," she promised. "Roylewill, too." Whereupon, with a forced change to gayety, and a toss of thewhite card aside, she lifted the cover of the box and peeked in.

  It was a merry-go-round, canopied in gay stripes, and built toaccommodate a party of twelve dolls. There were six deep seats, eachlined with ruby plush, for as many lady dolls: There were six prancingArab steeds--bay and chestnut and dappled gray--for an equal number ofmen. A small handle turned to wind up the merry-go-round. Whereupon theseats revolved gayly, the Arabs curvetted; and from the base of thestout canopy pole there sounded a merry tune.

  "Oh, darlin', what a grand thing!" cried Jane, lifting Gwendolyn tostand on the rounding seat of a white-and-gold chair (a position atother times strictly forbidden). "And what a pile of money it must'vecost! Why, it's as natural as the big one in the Park!"

  The music and the horses appealed. Other considerations movedtemporarily into the background as Gwendolyn watched and listened.

  Thomas broke the string of the smaller package. "This is the Madam'spresent," he declared. "And I'll warrant it's a beauty!"

  It proved a surprise. All paper shorn away, there stood revealed a greencabbage, topped by something fluffy and hairy and snow-white. This was arabbit's head. And when Thomas had turned a key in the base of thecabbage, the rabbit gave a sudden hop, lifted a pair of long ears,munched at a bit of cabbage-leaf, turned his pink nose, now to theright, now to the left, and rolled two amber eyes.

  "And look! Look!" shouted Jane "The eyes light up" For each was glowingas yellowly as the tiny electric bulbs on either side of Gwendolyn'sdressing-table.

  "Now what _more_ could a little lady want!" exclaimed Thomas. "It's aswonderful, _I_ say, as a wax figger."

  The rabbit, with a sharp click of farewell, popped back into thecabbage. Gwendolyn got down from the chair.

  "It _is_ nice," she conceded. "And I'm going to ask fath-er and moth-erto come up and see it."

  Neither Thomas nor Jane answered. But again he eyed the nurse, this timeflashing a silent warning. After which she began to exclaim excitedlyover the rabbit, while he wound up the merry-go-round. Then the rubyseats and the Arabs careened in a circle, the music played, the rabbitchewed and wriggled and rolled his luminous eyes.

  An interruption came in the shape of a ring at the telephone, whichstood on the small table at the head of Gwendolyn's bed. Jane answeredthe summons, and received the message,--a brief one. It worked, however,a noticeable change. For when Jane turned round her face was sullen.

  Gwendolyn remarked the scowls. Also the fact that the moment Jane madeThomas her confidant--in an undertone--he showed plain signs of beingannoyed. Gwendolyn saw the merry-go-round--cabbage and all--disappearinto the large, round box without a trace of regret. So much ill-feelingon the part of nurse and man-servant undoubtedly meant that somethingof a decidedly pleasant nature was about to happen to herself.

  It was a usual--almost a daily--occurrence for her to visit the regionof the grown-ups at the dinner-hour. On such occasions she saw one,though more often both, of her parents--as well as a varying number ofguests
. And the privilege was one held dear.

  She coveted a dearer. And her eyes roved to the larger of her twotables, where stood the tall lamp. There she ate all her meals, in thecondescending company of Miss Royle. What if the telephone message meantthat henceforth she was to eat _downstairs?_

  Standing on one foot she waited developments, and concealed hereagerness by snapping her underlip against her teeth with one busyforefinger.

  Her spirits fell when Thomas appeared with the supper-tray. And she atewith no appetite--for all that she was eating alone--alone, that is,except for Thomas, who preserved a complete and stony silence. MissRoyle had not returned. Jane had disappeared toward her room, grumblingabout never having a single evening to call her own.

  But at seven cheer returned with the realization that Jane was notgetting ready the white-and-gold bed. Still in a very bad humor, andtouched up smartly by a fresh cap and a dainty apron, the nurse putGwendolyn into a rosebud-bordered mull frock and tied a white-satin bowatop her yellow hair.

  "Where am I going, Jane?" asked Gwendolyn. (She felt certain that thiswas one of the nights when she was invited downstairs: She hoped--with athrob in her throat that was like the beat of a heart--that the supperjust past was only afternoon tea, and that there was waiting for her atthe grown-up table--in view of her newly acquired year and dignity--_anempty chair_.)

  "You'll see soon enough," answered Jane, shortly.

  Next, a new thought! Her father and mother had not seen her for twowhole days--not since she was six. "Wonder if I show I'm not taller,"she mused under her breath.

  At precisely fifteen minutes to eight Jane took her by the hand. And shewent down and down in the bronze cage, past the floor where were theguest chambers, past the library floor, which was where her mother andfather lived, to the second floor of the great house. Here was themusic-room, spacious and splendid, and the dining-room. The doors ofthis latter room were double. Before them the two halted.

  Not only the pause at this entrance betrayed whereto they were bound,but also Jane's manner. For the nurse was holding herself erect andproper--shoulders back, chin in, heels together. Gwendolyn had oftennoted that upon both Jane and Thomas her parents had a curiousstiffening effect.

  The thought of that empty chair now forced itself uppermost. The grayeyes darkened with sudden anxiety.

  "Now, Gwendolyn" whispered Jane, leaning down, "put your best footforward." Her face had lost some of its accustomed color.

  "But, Jane," whispered Gwendolyn back, "which _is_ my best foot?"

  Jane gave the small hand she was holding an impatient shake. "Hush yourrubbishy questions," she commanded "We're goin' in!" She tapped one ofthe doors gently.

  Gwendolyn glanced down at her daintily slippered feet. With so littletime for reflecting, she could not decide which one she should putforward. Both looked equally well.

  The next moment the doors swung open, and Potter, white-haired, graveand bent, stepped aside for them to pass. They crossed the threshold.

  The dining-room was wide and long and lofty. Its wainscot was somberlystained. Above the wainscot, the dull tapestried walls reached to aceiling richly panelled. The center of this dark setting was a longtable, glittering with china and crystal, bright with silver and roses,and lighted by clusters of silk-shaded candles that reflectedthemselves upon circular table mirrors. At the far end of the table satGwendolyn's father, pale in his black dress-clothes, and haggard-eyed;at the near end sat her mother, pink-cheeked and pretty, with jewelsabout her bare throat and in her fair hair. And between the two, fillingthe high-backed chairs on either side of the table, were strange men andwomen.

  Gwendolyn let go of Jane's hand and went toward her mother. Thither hadgone her first glance; her second had swept the whole length of theboard to her father's face. And now, without heeding any of the others,her look circled swiftly from chair to chair--searching.

  Not one was empty!

  The gray eyes blurred. Yet she tried to smile. Close to that dearpresence, so delicately perfumed (with a haunting perfume that was avery part of her mother's charm and beauty) she halted; andcurtsied--precisely as Monsieur Tellegen had taught her. And when thewhite-satin bow bobbed above the level of the table once more, sheraised her face for a kiss.

  A murmur went up and down the double row of chairs.

  Gwendolyn's mother smiled radiantly. Her glance over the table wasproud. "This is my little daughter's seventh birthday anniversary," sheproclaimed.

  To Gwendolyn the announcement was unexpected. But she was quick. Verycautiously she lifted herself on her toes--just a little.

  Another buzz of comment circled the board. "_Too_ sweet!" said one; and,"_Cunning!_" and "Fine child, that!"

  "Now, dear," encouraged her mother.

  Gwendolyn would have liked to stand still and listen to the chorus ofpraise. But there was something else to do.

  She turned a corner of the table and started slowly along it, curtseyingat each chair. As she curtsied she said nothing, only bobbed the satinbow and put out a small hand. And, "How do you do, darling!" said theladies, and "Ah, little Miss Gwendolyn!" said the men.

  The last man on that side, however, said something different. (He, shehad seen at the dinner-table often.) He slipped a hand into a pocket.When it came forth, it held an oblong box. "I didn't forget that thiswas your birthday," he half-whispered. "Here!"--as he laid the box uponGwendolyn's pink palm--"that's for your sweet tooth!"

  Everyone was watching, the ladies beaming, the men intent and amused.But Gwendolyn was unaware both of the silence and the scrutiny. Sheglanced at the box. Then she looked up into the friendly eyes of thedonor.

  "But," she began; "--but which _is_ my sweet tooth?"

  There was a burst of laughter, Gwendolyn's father and mother joining in.The man who had presented the box laughed heartiest of all; then rose.

  First he bowed to her mother, who acknowledged his salute graciously;next he turned to her father, whose pale face softened; last of all, headdressed her:

  "Miss Gwendolyn," said he, "a toast!"

  Gwendolyn looked at those bread-plates which were nearest her. There wasno toast in sight, only some very nice dinner-rolls. Moreover, Potterand Thomas were not starting for the pantry, but were standing, the onebehind her mother, the other behind her father, quietly listening. Andwhat this friend of her father's had in his right hand was not anythingto eat, but a delicate-stemmed glass wherein some champagne wasbubbling--like amber soda-water. She was forced to conclude that he wasunaccountably stupid--or only queer--or else indulging in another ofthose incomprehensible grown-up jokes.

  He made a little speech--which she could not understand, but whichelicited much laughter and polite applause; though to her it did notseem brilliant, or even interesting. Reseating himself, he patted herhead.

  She put the candy under her left arm, said a hasty, half-whisperedThank-you to him, went to the next high-backed chair, curtsied, bobbedthe ribbon-bow and put out a hand. A pat on the head was dismissal:There was no need to wait for an answer to her question concerning hersweet tooth. Experience had taught her that whenever mirth greeted aninquiry, that inquiry was ignored.

  When one whole side of the table was finished, and she turned a secondcorner, her father brushed her soft cheek with his lips.

  "Did your dolls like the merry-go-round?" he asked kindly.

  "Yes, fath--er."

  "Was there something else my little girl wanted?"

  Now she raised herself so far on her toes that her lips were close tohis ear. For there was a lady on either side of him. And both wereplainly listening.

  "If--if you'd come up and make it go," she said, almost whispering.

  He nodded energetically.

  She went behind his chair. Thomas was in wait there still. Down here heseemed to raise a wall of aloofness between himself and her, to wear amagnificent air, all cold and haughty, that was quite foreign to thenursery. As she passed him, she dimpled up at him saucily. But it failedto slack the
starchy tenseness of his visage.

  She turned another corner and curtsied her way along the opposite sideof the table. On this side were precisely as many high-backed chairs ason the other. And now, "You _adorable_ child!" cried the ladies, and"Haw! Haw! Don't the rest of us get a smile?" said the men.

  When all the curtseying was over, and the last corner was turned, shepaused. "And what is my daughter going to say about the rabbit in thecabbage?" asked her mother.

  There was a man seated on either hand. Gwendolyn gave each a quickglance. At Johnnie Blake's she had been often alone with her father andmother during that one glorious week. But in town her littleconfidences, for the most part, had to be made in just this way--underthe eye of listening guests and servants, in a low voice.

  "I like the rabbit," she answered, "but my Puffy Bear was nicer, only hegot old and shabby, and so--"

  At this point Jane took one quick step forward.

  "But if you'd come up to the nursery soon," Gwendolyn hastened to add."_Would_ you, moth--er?"

  "Yes, indeed, dear."

  Gwendolyn went up to Jane, who was waiting, rooted and rigid, close by.The reddish eyes of the nurse-maid fairly bulged with importance. Herlips were sealed primly. Her face was so pale that every freckle shehad stood forth clearly. How strangely--even direly--the greatdining-room affected _her_--who was so at ease in the nursery! No smile,no wink, no remark, either lively or sensible, ever melted the ice of_her_ countenance. And it was with a look almost akin to pity thatGwendolyn held out a hand.

  Jane took it with a great show of affection. Then once more Potter swungwide the double doors.

  Gwendolyn turned her head for a last glimpse of her father, sitting,grave and haggard, at the far end of the table; at her beautiful,jeweled mother; at the double line of high-backed chairs that showed,now a man's stern black-and-white, next the gayer colors of a woman'sdress; at the clustered lights; the glitter; the roses--

  Then the doors closed, making faint the din of chatter and laughter.And the bronze cage carried Gwendolyn up and up.