Book: A Spinner in the Sun

M >> Myrtle Reed >> A Spinner in the Sun




Where was the divinity that had shaped her course hither? Why had she
been driven back to the place of her crucifixion, to stand veiled in
the road while he drove by and splashed her with mud from his wheels?

Out in the garden, the Piper still strove with the weeds. He had the
place nearly half cleared now. The space on the other side of the
house was, as yet, untouched, and the trees and shrubbery all needed
trimming. The wall was broken in places, earth had drifted upon it,
and grass and weeds had taken root in the crevices.

Upon one side of the house, nearly all of the bare earth had been raked
clean. He was on the western slope, now, where the splendid poppies
had once grown. Pausing in his whistling, the Piper stooped and picked
up some small object. Miss Evelina cowered behind her shielding
shutters, for she guessed that he had found the empty vial which had
contained laudanum.

The Piper sniffed twice at the bottle. His scent was as keen as a
hunting dog's. Then he glanced quickly toward the house where Miss
Evelina, unveiled, shrank back into the farthest corner of an upper
room.

He walked to the gate, no longer whistling, and slowly, thoughtfully,
buried it deep in the rubbish. Could Miss Evelina have seen his face,
she would have marvelled at the tenderness which transfigured it and
wondered at the mist that veiled his eyes.

He stood at the gate for a long time, leaning on his scythe, his back
to the house. In sympathy with his master's mood, the dog was quiet,
and merely nosed about among the rubbish. By a flash of intuition,
Miss Evelina knew that the finding of the bottle had made clear to the
Piper much that he had not known before.

She felt herself an open book before those kind, keen eyes, which
neither sought nor avoided her veiled face. All the sorrow and the
secret suffering would be his, if he chose to read it. Miss Evelina
knew that she must keep away.

The sun set without splendour. Still the Piper stood there, leaning on
his scythe, thinking. All the rubbish in the garden was old, except
the empty laudanum bottle. The label was still legible, and also the
warning word, "Poison." She had put it there herself--he had no doubt
of that.

The dog whined and licked his master's hand, as though to say it was
time to go home. At length the Piper roused himself and gathered up
his tools. He carried them to a shed at the back of the house, and
Miss Evelina, watching, knew that he was coming back to finish his
self-appointed task.

"Yes," said the Piper, "we'll be going. 'T is not needful to bark."

He went down-hill slowly, the little dog trotting beside him and
occasionally licking his hand. They went into the shop, the door of
which was still propped open. The Piper built a fire, removed his coat
and hat, took off his leggings, cleaned his boots, and washed his hands.

Then, unmindful of the fact that it was supper-time, he sat down. The
dog sat down, too, pressing hard against him. The Piper took the dog's
head between his hands and looked long into the loving, eager eyes.

"She will be very beautiful, Laddie," he sighed, at length, "very
beautiful and very brave."




IX

Housecleaning

The brisk, steady tap sounded at Miss Evelina's door. It was a little
after eight, and she opened it, expecting to find her breakfast, as
usual. Much to her surprise, Miss Mehitable stood there, armed with a
pail, mop, and broom. Behind her, shy and frightened, was Araminta,
similarly equipped.

The Reverend Austin Thorpe, having carried a step-ladder to the back
door, had then been abruptly dismissed. Under the handle of her
scrubbing pail, the ministering angel had slipped the tray containing
Miss Evelina's breakfast.

"I've slopped it over some," she said, in explanation, "but you won't
mind that. Someway, I've never had hands enough to do what I've had to
do. Most of the work in the world is slid onto women, and then, as if
that wasn't enough, they're given skirts to hold up, too. Seems to me
that if the Almighty had meant for women to be carrying skirts all
their lives, He'd have give us another hand and elbow in our backs,
like a jinted stove-pipe, for the purpose. Not having the extra hand,
I go short on skirts when I'm cleaning."

Miss Mehitable's clean, crisp, calico gown ceased abruptly at her
ankles. Araminta's blue and white gingham was of a similar length, and
her sleeves, guiltless of ruffles, came only to her dimpled elbows.
Araminta was trying hard not to stare at Miss Evelina's veil while Aunt
Hitty talked.

"We've come," asserted Miss Mehitable, "to clean your house. We've
cleaned our own and we ain't tired yet, so we're going to do some
scrubbing here. I guess it needs it."

Miss Evelina was reminded of the Piper, who was digging in her garden
because he had no garden of his own. "I can't let you," she said,
hesitating over the words. "You're too kind to me, and I'm going to do
my cleaning myself."

"Fiddlesticks!" snorted Miss Hitty, brushing Miss Evelina from her path
and marching triumphantly in. "You ain't strong enough to do cleaning.
You just set down and eat your breakfast. Me and Minty will begin
upstairs."

In obedience to a gesture from her aunt, Araminta crept upstairs. The
house had not yet taken on a habitable look, and as she stood in the
large front room, deep in dust and draped with cobwebs, she was afraid.

Meanwhile Miss Mehitable had built a fire in the kitchen stove, put
kettles of water on to heat, stretched a line across the yard, and
brought in the step-ladder. Miss Evelina sat quietly, and apparently
took no notice of the stir that was going on about her. She had not
touched her breakfast.

"Why don't you eat?" inquired Miss Hitty, not unkindly.

"I'm not hungry," returned Miss Evelina, timidly.

"Well," answered Miss Mehitable, her perception having acted in the
interval, "I don't wonder you ain't, with all this racket goin' on.
I'll be out of here in a minute and then you can set here, nice and
quiet, and eat. I never like to eat when there's anything else going
on around me. It drives me crazy."

True to her word, she soon ascended the stairs, where the quaking
Araminta awaited her. "It'll take some time for the water to heat,"
observed Miss Hitty, "but there's plenty to do before we get to
scrubbing. Remember what I've told you, Minty. The first step in
cleaning a room is to take out of it everything that ain't nailed to
it."

Every window was opened to its highest point. Some were difficult to
move, but with the aid of Araminta's strong young arms, they eventually
went up as desired. From the windows descended torrents of bedding,
rugs, and curtains, a veritable dust storm being raised in the process.

"When I go down after the hot water, I'll hang these things on the
line," said Miss Mehitable, briskly. "They can't get any dustier on
the ground than they are now."

The curtains were so frail that they fell apart in Miss Hitty's hands.
"You can make her some new ones, Minty," she said. "She can get some
muslin at Mis' Allen's, and you can sew on curtains for a while instead
of quilts. It'll be a change."

None too carefully, Miss Mehitable tore up the rag carpet and threw it
out of the window, sneezing violently. "There's considerable less dirt
here already than there was when we come," she continued, "though we
ain't done any real cleaning yet. She can't never put that carpet down
again, it's too weak. We'll get a bucket of paint and paint the
floors. I guess Sarah Grey had plenty of rugs. She's got a lot of rag
carpeting put away in the attic if the moths ain't ate it, and, now
that I think of it, I believe she packed it into the cedar chest.
Anyway I advised her to. 'It'll come handy,' I told her, 'for Evelina,
if you don't live to use it yourself.' So if the moths ain't got the
good of it, there's carpet that can be made into rugs with some fringe
on the ends. I always did like the smell of fresh paint, anyhow.
There's nothin' you can put into a house that'll make it smell as fresh
and clean as paint. Varnish is good, too, but it's more expensive.
I'll go down now, and get the hot water and the ladder. I reckon she's
through with her breakfast by this time."

Miss Evelina had finished her breakfast, as the empty tray proved. She
sat listlessly in her chair and the water on the stove was boiling over.

"My sakes, Evelina," cried Miss Hitty, sharply, "I should think
you'd--I should think you'd hear the water fallin' on the stove," she
concluded, lamely. It was impossible to scold her as she would have
scolded Araminta.

"I'm goin' out now to put things on the line," continued Miss Hitty.
"When I get Minty started to cleanin', I'll come down and beat."

Miss Evelina made no response. She watched her brisk neighbour
wearily, without interest, as she hurried about the yard, dragging
mattresses into the sunlight, hanging musty bedding on the line, and
carrying the worn curtains to the mountain of rubbish which the Piper
had reared in front of the house.

"That creeter with the red feather can clean the yard if he's a mind
to," mused Miss Hitty, who was fully conversant with the Piper's work,
"but he can't clean the house. I'm going to do that myself."

She went in and was presently in her element. The smell of yellow soap
was as sweet incense in the nostrils of Miss Hitty, and the sound of
the scrubbing brush was melodious in her ears. She brushed down the
walls with a flannel cloth tied over a broom, washed the windows,
scrubbed every inch of the woodwork, and prepared the floor for its
destined coat of paint.

Then she sent Araminta into the next room with the ladder, and began on
the furniture. This, too, was thoroughly scrubbed, and as much paint
and varnish as would come off was allowed to come. "It'll have to be
painted," thought Miss Hitty, scrubbing happily, "but when it is
painted, it'll be clean underneath, and that's more than it has been.
Evelina 'll sleep clean to-night for the first time since she come
here. There's a year's washin' to be done in this house and before I
get round to that, I'll lend her some of my clean sheets and a quilt or
two of Minty's."

Adjourning to the back yard, Miss Mehitable energetically beat a
mattress until no more dust rose from it. With Araminta's aid she
carried it upstairs and put it in place. "I'm goin' home now after my
dinner and Evelina's," said Miss Hitty, "and when I come back I'll
bring sheets and quilts for this. You clean till I come back, and then
you can go home for your own lunch."

Araminta assented and continued her work. She never questioned her
aunt's dictates, and this was why there was no friction between the two.

When Miss Mehitable came back, however, half buried under the mountain
of bedding, she was greeted by a portentous silence. Hurrying
upstairs, she discovered that Araminta had fallen from the ladder and
was in a white and helpless heap on the floor, while Miss Evelina
chafed her hands and sprinkled her face with water.

"For the land's sake!" cried Miss Hitty. "What possessed Minty to go
and fall off the ladder! Help me pick her up, Evelina, and we'll lay
her on the bed in the room we've just cleaned. She'll come to
presently. She ain't hurt."

But Araminta did not "come to." Miss Mehitable tried everything she
could think of, and fairly drenched the girl with cold water, without
avail.

"What did it?" she demanded with some asperity. "Did she see anything
that scared her?"

"No," answered Miss Evelina, shrinking farther back into her veil. "I
was downstairs and heard her scream, then she fell and I ran up. It
was just a minute or two before you came in."

"Well," sighed Miss Hitty, "I suppose we'll have to have a doctor. You
fix that bed with the clean things I brought. It's easy to do it
without movin' her after the under sheet is on and I'll help you with
that. Don't pour any more cold water on her. If water would have
brung her to she'd be settin' up by now. And don't get scared. Minty
ain't hurt."

With this comforting assurance, Miss Hitty sped down-stairs, but her
mind was far from at rest. At the gate she stopped, suddenly
confronted by the fact that she could not bring Anthony Dexter to
Evelina's house.

"What'll I do!" moaned Miss Hitty. "What'll I do! Minty'll die if she
ain't dead now!"

The tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks, but she ran on, as fast as
her feet would carry her, toward Doctor Dexter's. "The way'll be
opened," she thought--"I'm sure it will."

The way was opened in an unexpected fashion, for Doctor Ralph Dexter
answered Miss Hitty's frantic ring at his door.

"I'd clean forgotten you," she stammered, wholly taken aback. "I don't
believe you're anything but a play doctor, but, as things is, I reckon
you'll have to do."

Doctor Ralph Dexter threw back his head and laughed--a clear, ringing
boyish laugh which was very good to hear.

"'Play doctor' is good," he said, "when anybody's worked as much like a
yellow dog as I have. Anyhow, I'll have to do, for father's not at
home. Who's dead?"

"It's Araminta," explained Miss Hitty, already greatly relieved. "She
fell off a step-ladder and ain't come to yet."

Doctor Ralph's face grew grave. "Wait a minute." He went into the
office and returned almost immediately. As luck would have it, the
doctor's carriage was at the door, waiting for a hurry call.

"Jump in," commanded Doctor Ralph. "You can tell me about it on the
way. Where do we go?"

Miss Hitty issued directions to the driver and climbed in. In spite of
her trouble, she was not insensible of the comfort of the cushions nor
the comparative luxury of the conveyance. She was also mindful of the
excitement her presence in the doctor's carriage produced in her
acquaintances as they rushed past.

By dint of much questioning, Doctor Ralph obtained a full account of
the accident, all immaterial circumstances being brutally eliminated as
they cropped up in the course of her speech. "It's God's own mercy,"
said Miss Hitty, as they stopped at the gate, "that we'd cleaned that
room. We couldn't have got it any cleaner if 't was for a layin' out
instead of a sickness. Oh, Ralph," she pleaded, "don't let Minty die!"

"Hush!" said Doctor Ralph, sternly. He spoke with an authority new to
Miss Hitty, who, in earlier days, had been wont to drive Ralph out of
her incipient orchard with a bed slat, sharpened at one end into a
formidable weapon of offence.

Araminta was still unconscious, but she was undressed, and in bed, clad
in one of Miss Evelina's dainty but yellowed nightgowns. Doctor Ralph
worked with incredible quickness and Miss Hitty watched him, wondering,
frightened, yet with a certain sneaking confidence in him.

"Fracture of the ankle," he announced, briefly, "and one or two bad
bruises. Plaster cast and no moving."

When Araminta returned to consciousness, she thought she was dead and
had gone to Heaven. The room was heavy with soothing antiseptic
odours, and she seemed to be suspended in a vapoury cloud. On the edge
of the cloud hovered Miss Evelina, veiled, and Aunt Hitty, who was most
assuredly crying. There was a stranger, too, and Araminta gazed at him
questioningly.

Doctor Ralph's hand, firm and cool, closed over hers. "Don't you
remember me, Araminta?" he asked, much as one would speak to a child.
"The last time I saw you, you were hanging out a basket of clothes.
The grass was very green and the sky was a bright blue, and the petals
of apple blossoms were drifting all round your feet. I called to you,
and you ran into the house. Now I've got you where you can't get away."

Araminta's pale cheeks flushed. She looked pleadingly at Aunt Hitty,
who had always valiantly defended her from the encroachments of boys
and men.

"You come downstairs with me, Ralph Dexter," commanded Aunt Hitty.
"I've got some talking to do to you. Evelina, you set here with
Araminta till I get back."

Miss Evelina drew a damp, freshly scrubbed chair to the bedside. "I
fell off the step-ladder, didn't I?" asked Araminta, vaguely.

"Yes, dear." Miss Evelina's voice was very low and sweet. "You fell,
but you're all right now. You're going to stay here until you get
well. Aunt Hitty and I are going to take care of you."

In the cobwebbed parlour, meanwhile, Doctor Ralph was in the hands of
the attorney for the prosecution, who questioned him ceaselessly.

"What's wrong with Minty?"

"Broken ankle."

"How did it happen to get broke?" demanded Miss Hitty, with harshness.
"I never knew an ankle to get broke by falling off a ladder."

"Any ankle will break," temporised Dr. Ralph, "if it is hurt at the
right point."

"I wish I could have had your father."

"Father wasn't there," returned Ralph, secretly amused. "You had to
take me."

Miss Hitty's face softened. There were other reasons why she could not
have had Ralph's father.

"When can Minty go home?"

"Minty can't go home until she's well. She's got to stay right here."

"If she'd fell in the yard," asked Miss Hitty, peering keenly at him
over her spectacles, "would she have had to stay in the yard till she
got well?"

The merest suspicion of a dimple crept into the corner of Doctor
Ralph's mouth. His eyes danced, but otherwise his face was very grave.
"She would," he said, in his best professional manner. "A shed would
have had to be built over her." He fancied that Miss Hitty's constant
presence might prove disastrous to a nervous patient. He liked the
quiet, veiled woman, who obeyed his orders without question.

"How much," demanded Miss Mehitable, "is it going to cost?"

"I don't know," answered Ralph, honestly. "I'll have to come every day
for a long time--perhaps twice a day," he added, remembering the curve
of Araminta's cheek and her long, dark lashes.

Miss Hitty made an indescribable sound. Pain, fear, disbelief, and
contempt were all mingled in it.

"Don't worry," said Ralph, kindly. "You know doctoring sometimes comes
by wholesale."

Miss Hitty's relief was instantaneous and evident. "There's regular
prices, I suppose," she said. "Broken toe, broken ankle, broken
leg--each one so much. Is that it?"

Doctor Ralph was seized with a violent fit of coughing.

"How much is ankles?" demanded his inquisitor.

"I'll leave that all to you, Miss Hitty," said Ralph, when he recovered
his composure. "You can pay me whatever you think is right."

"I shouldn't pay you anything I didn't think was right," she returned,
sharply, "unless I was made to by law. As long as you've got to come
every day for a spell, and mebbe twice, I'll give you five dollars the
day Minty walks again. If that won't do, I'll get the doctor over to
the Ridge."

Doctor Ralph coughed so hard that he was obliged to cover his face with
his handkerchief. "I should think," said Miss Mehitable, "that if you
were as good a doctor as you pretend to be, you'd cure your own
coughin' spells. First thing you know, you'll be running into quick
consumption. Will five dollars do?"

Ralph bowed, but his face was very red and he appeared to be struggling
with some secret emotion. "I couldn't think of taking as much as five
dollars, Miss Hitty," he said, gallantly. "I should not have ventured
to suggest over four and a half."

"He's cheaper than his father," thought Miss Hitty, quickly suspicious.
"That's because he ain't as good a doctor."

"Four and a half, then," she said aloud. "Is it a bargain?"

"It is," said Ralph, "and I'll take the best possible care of Araminta.
Shake hands on it." He went out, his shoulders shaking with suppressed
merriment, and Miss Hitty watched him through the grimy front window.

"Seems sort of decent," she thought, "and not too grasping. He might
be real nice if he wasn't a man."




X

Ralph's First Case

"Father," said Ralph at breakfast, "I got my first case yesterday."

Anthony Dexter smiled at the tall, straight young fellow who sat
opposite him. He did not care about the case but he found endless
satisfaction in Ralph.

"What was it?" he asked, idly.

"Broken ankle. I only happened to get it because you were out. I was
accused of being a 'play doctor,' but, under the circumstances, I had
to do."

"Miss Mehitable?" queried Doctor Dexter, with lifted brows. "I
wouldn't have thought her ankles could be broken by anything short of
machinery."

"Guess they couldn't," laughed Ralph. "Anyhow, they were all right at
last accounts. It's Araminta--the pretty little thing who lives with
the dragon."

"Oh!" There was the merest shade of tenderness in the exclamation.
"How did it happen?"

"Divesting the circumstance of all irrelevant material," returned
Ralph, reaching for another crisp roll, "it was like this. With true
missionary spirit and in the belief that cleanliness is closely related
to godliness, Miss Mehitable determined to clean the old house on the
hill. The shack has been empty a long time; but now has a tenant--of
whom more anon.

"Miss Mehitable's own mansion, it seems, has been scrubbed inside and
out, and painted and varnished and generally torn up, even though it is
early in the year for such unholy doings. Having finished her own
premises, and still having strength in her elbow, and the housecleaning
microbe being yet on an unchecked rampage through her virtuous system,
and there being some soap left, Miss Mehitable wanders up to the house
with her pail.

"Shackled to her, also with a pail, is the helpless Araminta. Among
the impedimenta are the Reverend Austin Thorpe and the step-ladder, the
Reverend Thorpe being, dismissed at the door and allowed to run amuck
for the day.

"The Penates are duly thrown out of the windows, the veiled chatelaine
sitting by mute and helpless. One room is scrubbed till it's so clean
a fly would fall down in it, and the ministering angel goes back to her
own spotless residence after bedding. I believe I didn't understand
exactly why she went after the bedding, but I can doubtless find out
the next time I see Miss Mehitable.

"In the absence of the superintendent, Araminta seizes the opportunity
to fall off the top of the ladder, lighting on her ankle, and fainting
most completely on the way down. The rest is history.

"Doctor Dexter being out, his son, perforce, has to serve. The ankle
being duly set and the excitement allayed, terms are made in private
with the 'play doctor.' How much, Father, do you suppose I am to be
paid the day Araminta walks again?"

Doctor Dexter dismissed the question. "Couldn't guess," he grunted.

"Four and a half," said Ralph, proudly.

"Hundred?" asked Doctor Dexter, with a gleam of interest. "You must
have imbibed high notions at college."

"Hundred!" shouted Ralph, "Heavens, no! Four dollars and a half! Four
dollars and fifty cents, marked down from five for this day only.
Special remnant sale of repaired ankles!" The boy literally doubled
himself in his merriment.

"You bloated bondholder," said his father, fondly. "Don't be
extravagant with it."

"I won't," returned Ralph, between gasps. "I thought I'd put some of
it into unincumbered real estate and loan the rest on good security at
five per cent."

Into the lonely house Ralph's laughter came like the embodied spirit of
Youth. It searched out the hidden corners, illuminated the shadows,
stirred the silences to music. A sunbeam danced on the stair, where,
according to Doctor Dexter's recollection, no sunbeam had ever dared to
dance before. Ah, it, was good to have the boy at home!

"Miss Mehitable," observed Doctor Dexter, after a pause, "is like the
poor--always with us. I seldom get to a patient who is really in
danger before she does. She seems to have secret wires stretched all
over the country and she has the clinical history of the neighbourhood
at her tongue's end. What's more, she distributes it, continually,
painstakingly, untiringly. Every detail of every case I have charge of
is spread broadcast, by Miss Mehitable. I'd have a bad reputation,
professionally, if so much about my patients was generally known
anywhere else."

"Is she a good nurse?" asked Ralph.

"According to her light, yes; but she isn't willing to work on
recognised lines. She'll dose my patients with roots and herbs of her
own concocting if she gets a chance, and proudly claim credit for the
cure. If the patient dies, everybody blames me. I can't sit by a case
of measles and keep Miss Mehitable from throwing sassafras tea into it
more than ten hours at a stretch."

"Why don't you talk to her?" queried Ralph.

"Talk to her!" snorted Doctor Dexter. "Do you suppose I haven't
ruptured my vocal cords more than once? I might just as well put my
head out of the front window and whisper it as to talk to her."

"She won't monkey with my case," said Ralph. His mouth was firmly set.

"Won't she?" parried Doctor Dexter, sarcastically. "You go up there
and see if the cast isn't off and the fracture being fomented with
pennyroyal tea or some such mess."

"I always had an impression," said Ralph, thoughtfully, "that people
were afraid of you."

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