A Woman Named Smith Read online

  CHAPTER III

  THE DEAR LITTLE GOD!

  When we went over Hynds House the next morning and took stock, Ibegan to entertain very, very peculiar feelings toward Great-AuntSophronisba Scarlett, who, it would appear, had given me a whiteelephant which I could neither hire out for its keep, nor yet sellout of hand. I had to live in Hynds House, and Hynds House as itstood wasn't to be lived in.

  The rain had ceased, and from the outside jungle came innumerablecalls of birds, and fresh and woodsy odors; but the whole aspect ofthe place was grim and forbidding. At the back, where there wasn'tsuch an overgrowth, the lane had been closed, barricaded withbarbed-wire entanglements, and fairly bristled with thistles and "NoTrespassing" signs.

  "All this house needs is a mortuary tablet set up over the frontdoor."

  But Alicia demurred.

  "I'm not a bit disheartened," she declared stoutly. "There's justone thing to be done to this house--first make it beautiful, andthen make it pay. It can be done. It's going to be done. It's _got_to be done. And when it's done--we'll have a home. Vision it as it'sgoing to be, Sophy--rosewood and mahogany and walnut, old brass andchina and prints and portraits, the sort of things we've only beenable to dream of up to now. Why, this house has been waiting for us!We were born to come here and make it over: it's _our_ house!"Alicia, has the gay courage of the Irish.

  The heavy iron knocker on the front door resounded clamorously.

  "Uncle Adam thinks we've been ha'nted out of existence, and he'shammering to wake the dead," said I.

  But it wasn't Uncle Adam to whom we opened the door. An enormous,square-shouldered man stood there, looking from me to Alicia withbright, keen blue eyes behind glasses. He was so big, somagnificently proportioned, that he held one's attention, at first,by mere size. Then one had time to observe that although he hadn'tthe sleek and careful grooming of successful New Yorkers, he worehis clothes as, say, Coeur de Lion must have worn mail. He hadn'tthe brisk business manner, either; but there radiated from him anassured authority, as of one used to having his orders obeyedwithout question. No one could pass him over with a casual eye. Ihave known people who hated him frankly and heartily; I have knownpeople who adored him. I have never known any one who was lukewarmwhere he was concerned.

  "Which of you is Miss Smith?" he asked, in a very pleasant voice."Miss Smith, I'm your next-door neighbor, house to the right:Doctor Richard Geddes, at your service."

  We gave him to understand, with the usual polite commonplaces, thatwe were pleased to make his acquaintance, and ushered him into thedilapidated drawing-room.

  "I'd have come over yesterday, when I learned you'd arrived, exceptthat my cook was suddenly seized with the notion she'd beenconjured, and I had to--er--stand by and persuade her she wasn't.Swore she had my lunch ready, as usual; swore she'd placed it on atray, left it on the kitchen table for a few minutes, and when shecame back from the pantry, not ten feet away, the tray was gone.Vanished. Disappeared. Nowhere to be found. She flopped on the floorand howled. She weighs two hundred and forty pounds and I hadn't aderrick handy. I had to roll her up on bed-slats. You've never had aconjured two-hundred-and-forty-pounder on your hands, have you? No?Well, then, don't. _But_ if you ever do, try a bed-slat. Thismorning she discovered the tray in its usual place, dishes andsilver intact, nothing missing. She's looking for the end of theworld."

  "O-o-h!" quavered Alicia, while I could feel my knees knockingtogether. "O-o-o-h! How very, very singular! And--and was that all?"

  "All! Wasn't that enough? I've had burned biscuit and muddy coffee,because my cook's got liver and nerves, and insists it's her soul,"said the doctor, grimly. "I've given her to understand that if shehasn't got her soul saved before to-night, I'll physic it out of herand hang her hide on the bushes, inside out, _salted_." He added,hastily: "In the meantime, I hope you haven't fared too badly inthis mildewed jail?"

  "Thank you, no," Alicia said demurely. "We have fared very well."

  "Glad to hear it." The big man looked at her with the frank pleasureall masculinity evinces at sight of Alicia. And then he asked,abruptly:

  "Has Jelnik called yet?--gray house on the other side of you.--No? Idare say he's off on one of his prowls then. A bit of a lunatic, buta very charming fellow, Jelnik, though your amiable predecessor,Miss Smith, chose to consider him a sort of outlawed tom-cat, andwarned him off with a shot-gun." The doctor paused, stroked hisbeard, and regarded me earnestly.

  "Having heired the old girl's domain, I hope you won't consider itnecessary to heir her--er--prejudices," he remarked hopefully. "Badlot, Sophronisba. Very bad!"

  "Mrs. Scarlett," I reminded him gently, "was my relative only bymarriage."

  "Cousin of mine; mother's relative. Not on speaking-, only onfighting-terms," he interjected.

  I remembered what Uncle Adam had told us; and I'm afraid I eyed hima bit harder than politeness warranted.

  "I discern by your eye, Miss Smith," said the doctor, "that youthink a blood relation is more likely to walk in that old demon'sfootsteps than an outsider is. My dear lady, under ordinarycircumstances and with _human_ neighbors, I'm as meek as Moses; I ama lamb, a veritable lamb! As for your aunt, she was a man-eating,saber-toothed tigress!"

  "Not my aunt, Doctor Geddes; your cousin."

  "Your aunt-by-marriage. It's just as bad. Anyhow, she preferred youto any of us, didn't she?"

  "Perhaps because she didn't know _me_."

  "Have it so. _But_ she did whatever she did because she was an olddevil of a woman, and an old devil of a woman can give points toSatan. If," cried the doctor, vehemently, "there is one great reasonwhy a man should be glad he's a man, it is because he will neverlive to be an old woman!"

  "That depends upon one's point of view," I told him firmly. "Now,I'm glad I'm a woman because I shall never live to be an old man.Old ladies are far, far nicer. Have you ever known an old lady whothought herself captivating? Have you ever known any old man whodidn't think he could be if he wished?"

  "Yes," shouted the doctor, "and no!--in both cases! There is no sexin fools. There is no age limit, either."

  "The Talmud says: 'An old woman in the house is a blessing; but anold man is a nuisance.'"

  "I don't give a bobtailed scat what the Talmud says. I know what Iknow.--Miss Gaines, I leave it to you."

  "Why, I like them both, when they're nice; and I'm sorry for themboth when they're not." And she added, with a naive air ofconfidence: "But I think I like young men better than either, as arule."

  The doctor removed his hat again, and sat down. His eyebrows wentup, his eyes crinkled.

  "Miss Alicia Gaines," he said genially, "I perceive you are agirl-child of fine promise.--As for us, Miss Smith, what have we todo with age and foolishness, who, as yet, have neither? Let's getdown to business. What are you going to do about the lane behindHynds House? We had the use of that lane this hundred years andmore, until the devil got too strong in Sophronisba and she shut itup. Now, shall you keep the lane closed, or shall you dismiss theinjunctions?"

  "I shall have to consult Judge Gatchell."

  "Gatchell's a fossilized remains. He's got no more blood in hisliver than a flea. Gatchell would hang his grandmother on a point oflaw. Why should you, or any other ordinarily intelligent person, beguided by Gatchell?"

  "By whom, then, shall I be guided? You?" I wondered.

  "That's not in my line," replied the doctor, shortly, and thrust hishands into his gloves. "In the meantime, ladies, I'm your next-doorneighbor; I have no wife to gossip about you, no children to annoyyou; I'm far enough away to keep you from smelling my pipe; and Ishall quarrel with you only when I can't help it. In return, I havebut one favor to beg of you: don't use a shot-gun on my prizechickens! Get a dog and train him to chase them home, if they getinto your yard. Or catch them and throw them over the hedge. I'llpay any damages within reason. And please send for your cat."

  "We have a cat?"

  "You have. After Sophronisba's death, Mandy took her in; or rather,Mand
y was afraid to turn her out, for it's bad luck to cross awitch's cat. In return for this charity the hussy immediatelyfoisted upon us two wholly unnecessary kittens. Mandy wouldn't allowthem to be decently drowned, for it's worse luck yet to tamper witha witch's cat's kittens, particularly when they're as black as thehinges of Gehenna. Mandy thinks their mother had them black as adelicate mark of respect for the late crone."

  "Send them over, please. Black cats will just go with this house. Itwas very thoughtful of that cat to have two black kittens ready forus, and very kind of you to let them stay with you until we came."

  "I? I abhor the whole tribe of cats!" cried the doctor. "Don't thankmy kindness: thank Mandy's idiocy, of which she has more than herjust share. To my mind, the best place for cats is under the grapearbor."

  "Let us strike a bargain. You keep your chickens in your own yard,and we'll keep our cats in our own house."

  "Compromise: you get a dog," suggested the doctor.

  "Perhaps I may. I've always wanted a poodle."

  "I said a _dog_!" said the doctor, lifting his lip. "A poodle! InHynds House! The lamented Sophronisba had a bloodhound."

  "The lamented Sophronisba could have what she chose. ThisSophronisba prefers a poodle."

  "_Sophronisba?_ What! Another one? Good God!" cried the doctor. "Allright! Get a poodle. Keep the cats. Get a parrot--and an orphanwith the itch--and a hyena--and a blunderbuss! _Her name isSophronisba_!--I--oh, Lord, where's Jelnik? I have got to go andwarn Jelnik!" And he made for the door.

  At that Alicia laughed. Peal upon peal, like silver bells,irrepressibly, infectiously, irresistibly, Alicia laughed. She crieswith her eyes open and her mouth shut, and she laughs with her eyesshut and her mouth open. The effect is beyond all words enchanting.The doctor paused in his headlong flight.

  "All right: laugh!" he said, darkly. "But I shall warn Jelnik, nonethe less!" And muttering: "_Sophronisba!_ Lord have mercy on us!_Sophronisba!_" he departed hastily.

  "What a nice neighbor!" commented Alicia. She added, musingly:"Sophy, this is an enchanted place--a place where one has goodmeals, bad advice, and black cats showered on one, free and gratis.All one has to do is to stand still and take things as they come!"

  "And hope one won't follow in the footsteps of one's predecessor,who was an unmitigated old devil."

  "At least," said Alicia, laughing, "_he_'ll never live to be an oldwoman, will he, Sophy?"

  "The man has the tact of a cannibal--"

  "The shoulders of a Hercules--"

  "An abominable temper--"

  "And a beautiful beard. Somehow, Sophy, I rather approve of a beard,on somebody his size. I decidedly approve of a beard!"

  "If his miserable hens come over here, I shall most certainly--"

  "Keep the eggs. We'll tell him so when he comes again."

  "Comes again? What, and my name Sophronisba?"

  "My own grandmother had the second sight; and _I_ don't needspectacles," said Alicia. "Sophy, that man has come into our livesto stay. I feel it in my bones! It's not an unpleasant feeling," shefinished gracelessly.

  When Unc' Adam presently put in his appearance, he was profoundlyimpressed and respectful: we were brisk, unhaunted, and unafraid,after a night in Hynds House! The three colored women who had comewith him, induced by cupidity and curiosity to enter ol' Mis'Scarlett's ill-omened domain, at first hung back. They were plainlyprepared to bolt at the first unusual noise.

  Of the three, one--by name Mary Magdalen--proved to be aheaven-born, predestinated cook; and her we persuaded, by bribery,cajolery, and subornation of scruples, to remain with uspermanently. Only, she flatly refused to stay on the placeovernight. Darkness shouldn't catch Mary Magdalen under the ScarlettWitch's roof-tree.

  There are certain gifted beings who possess the secret of bringingorder out of chaos; for them the total depravity of inanimateobjects has no terrors; inanimate objects become docile to theirwill. Such a one was Mary Magdalen. In two days she had transformeda sooty cavern into a clean and orderly kitchen. For she was asinging and a scourful woman, and her Sign was the speretual and thescrubbing-brush. It is true that she put a precious old Spodetea-pot on the stove and boiled the tea in it; that she hung her wigand the dish-towel on the same nail; and that she immediately askedfor a white stocking foot to use as a coffee-bag.

  "But don't you-all go bust no new pai'h," she advised economically."Ah 'd rathah make mah coffee in a ol' white stockin' foot any day,jes' so you ain't done wo' out de toes too much."

  "Sophy," said the horror-struck Alicia, "that woman must be watcheduntil we can buy a percolater. Suppose she's got 'a ol' whitestockin' foot' of her own!"

  Despite which there never was, never will be, such another cook asMary Magdalen. It is true she wasn't amenable to discipline, andreason wasn't her guiding-lamp. And nothing--not bribes, threats,entreaties, prayers, orders, commands, moral suasion--could breakher of doing just what she wanted to do just when and how she wantedto do it. You'd be entertaining your dearest enemies, serene in theconsciousness that your house was a credit to your good management;and behold, Mary Magdalen in the drawing-room door, with her wigaskew and her hands rolled in her apron:

  "Oh, Miss Sophy!"

  "Well?" say you, resignedly, with a feigned smile; "what is it, MaryMagdalen?"

  "Miss Sophy, you know we-all's sugah?"

  "Yes."

  "Wellum, Miss Sophy, 't ain't any."

  "I have already ordered more, Mary Magdalen."

  "An' you know ouah flouah, Miss Sophy?"

  "I--"

  "Us ain't got a Gawd's speck!"

  Then she would beam upon the visitors, all of whom were known toher.

  "Howdy, Miss Sally! How you-all comin' on? Ah comin' 'round to seede baby soon 's Ah gits chanst." Or, "Lawsy me, Miss Jinny, dat boyo' yo's is jes' natchelly bustin' outer da clo'es wid growin', ain'the? He jes' de spit o' he pa, bless 'im!"

  Which untoward confidence didn't seem to surprise our visitors. Theyhad Mary Magdalens of their own.

  A few days later Doctor Geddes sent us Schmetz, the gardener, agnarled little man with a peppery temper, a torrential flow ofAlsatian French, and a tireless energy. I don't know why nor howSchmetz had come to Hyndsville, except that somehow he had acquireda small farm near by and couldn't get away from it. He explained tous, gently but firmly, that if we wouldn't meddle after the mannerof women, but would leave his job in his own hands, it would bebetter for us, and for the garden. We meekly acquiescing, he calledin helpers and with a wave of his hand set hoe and ax and spade towork.

  The weather had changed into days of deep blue skies, splendid daysfull of the warmth of potential power; and nights filled withfragrance, nights of fierce beauty, and the glamour of golden moons,and the thrilling melody of that feathered Israfel, themocking-bird. Through our open windows immense moths, spirits of thesummer nights, drifted in on enameled and jeweled wings and circledin a fire-worshiping dance around our light.

  Those were wonderful days. For that was a house of surprises, ahouse full of laid-by things. One never knew what one was going tofind. One morning it might be a Ridgway jug all delicate vine leavesand faun heads, or an old blue-and-white English platter, or a pieceof fine salt-glaze. On the top shelf of a long-locked closet, pushedback in the corner, you'd discover a full set of the most beautifulsapphire glassware, and a pagoda work-box with ivory corners; and ona lower shelf, wrapped in half a moth-eaten shawl, two glowingluster jugs in proof condition. Mary Magdalen salvaged a fine chinasillabub stand, with little white-and-gold covered cups on it, froma sooty box under a kitchen cupboard. A back drawer of the dustyoffice desk yielded up half a dozen exquisite prints. And I'm sureAlicia will remember even in heaven the ecstasy she experienced whena battered bureau gave into her hands the adorable Bow figures ofKitty Clive and Woodward the actor, she pink-and-white, petticoatedand furbelowed, lovely as when London went mad over her, and hecocked-hatted and ruffled and dandified; and neither with so much asthe least littlest chip to mar their
perfection.

  Or a hair trunk would reveal little frocks stitched by hand, and apair of tiny flat slippers with strings gone to dust like the littlefeet that had worn them. With these were two dolls, one dressed insprigged India muslin and lace, with a shepherdess hat glued on herpainted head; the other dressed in a poke-bonnet, a satin sack, anda much-flounced skirt. They had evidently belonged to "Lydia, ourDarling Child," whose name, in unsteady letters, was painfully setdown in the printed picture-books at the bottom of the trunk. Thesethings that had belonged to a "darling child" so long dead lent thegrim old house a softening touch. Poor old house, whose littlechildren had all gone, so long ago!

  It was the day we were taking up the beautiful old carpet in theback drawing-room. Alicia was rejoicing for the thousandth time overthis treasure of hand-woven French art. Of a sudden, horrible yellsrose from the garden, and a shrieking negro went by the window likean arrow. We caught "Murder!--Ol' Witch!--Corpses!" as hedisappeared. Uncle Adam, catching his panic, bolted with him; thetwo negro women followed. Only Mary Magdalen, amazonian arms bare, arolling-pin grasped in a formidable fist, stood like a rock ofdefense behind us.

  "Ah jes' wants to catch any ol' corpses trapesin' 'round mahkitchin, trackin' up mah clean flo', an Ah 'll suah settle day hashonce fo' all!" trumpeted Mary Magdalen.

  Outside, Schmetz was jumping up and down, flapping his arms, andscreaming in voluble French:

  "Name of a dog! Senseless Senegambians, remain! Iron-skulledoffspring of the union of a black mule and a pickax, cease to fly!"

  "What is the matter? For heaven's sake? what is the matter?" Ishouted.

  "We done dig up de corpses! We done fin' wha'h dat ol' witch 'omanbury de bodies!" howled a workman in reply.

  "Imbeciles, asses, beings without brains, listen to me!" shriekedSchmetz, this time in good English. "This corpse is not alive! Neveryet was he alive! Return, sons of perdition, and assist me to raisehim--may he fall upon your brain-pans of donkeys!"

  As if that had been all that was needed, the last wavering workmanflung down his shovel and took to his heels, running like a rabbitand roaring as he ran.

  "Schmetz!" called a clear and peremptory voice. "Schmetz! what's thematter over there?"

  "Ah! It is Monsieur Jelnik!" bawled Schmetz. "_Nom de Dieu_,Monsieur Jelnik, come with a great quickness! I have dug from theearth the leetle boy of stone--you know him, _hein_? Those niggers,_sacrement_! they think they have uncovered the deceased corpse, thevictim of Madame the late mistress, with which she made her spellsof a sorceress."

  "What!" said the voice. "You've found the statue, Schmetz? Ask, mygood fellow, if it is permitted that I come and view it."

  "Why, of course!" said I, quickly.

  "Thank you," said the voice.

  There had been a great space cleared in our garden, and on the edgeof this, in removing a stubborn gum-tree, the negroes had uncoveredwhat they supposed to be the body of one murdered. Upon our knees,with Schmetz helping us, we were trying to tear away the rottencoverings, and the dirt and mold. And there, beautiful despite thestains disfiguring him, lay the boy Love. The marble pedestal fromwhich he had been removed lay near him. On the base, decipherable,was the sculptor's name, and on one side, in small letters,"_Brought from Italy, 1803, by R.H._"

  "Why, he is perfect!" cried Alicia, joyfully. "Oh, who could havebeen so stupid and so cruel as to hide away something so lovely?Poor dear little god, aren't you glad to get out of that grave andcome back to the sun? Aren't you grateful, little god, that Sophyand I came to Hynds House?"

  And at that moment a tall, slim, dark-skinned young man walked up,hands behind his back, and stood there regarding us with eyes asclear and cool as mountain water when the sunlight is upon it andgolden flecks come and go in its brown depths. The exquisitelyaquiline features, the small black mustache, an indescribably proudand high-bred ease and grace of manner and bearing, were oddlyexotic and even more oddly fascinating. His slenderness was asstrong as a tempered sword-blade, his quietness was trained power inrepose. And the hair of his head was so black that a purplish shadowrested upon it, and so thick that one was minded of Absalom:

  ... in all Israel there was none to be so much praised as Absalom for his beauty: from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head there was no blemish in him.

  And when he polled his head (for it was at every year's end that he polled it: because the hair was heavy on him, therefore he polled it:), he weighed the hair of his head at two hundred shekels after the king's weight.

  He was so vivid and so new to me that my whole being was breathlesswith the wonder of him. I knew, of course, that he did not belongto _my_ world at all. King's sons are for princesses, for thosehuman birds of paradise that flash, beautiful and fortunate, inlarger spheres than those prosaic paths trodden by a workaday womannamed Smith.

  "What have you found?" he asked, in a delightful voice.

  Alicia looked up. Her face was like the break of day for youngnessand freshness, and a wisp of a bright curl misbehaved itself on hercheek, a flirtatious curl that knew exactly how to make the most ofits opportunities. The young man's eyes approved of it.

  "We have found Love!" cried Alicia, breathlessly. "Sophy and I havefound Love in our garden! Isn't it wonderful and impossible andexciting and delightful? But it's true! And it just goes with thiswhole place!" cried Alicia, morning-eyed and May-faced.

  The young man's glance came back to me. I should hate to beuntruthful, and have to meet so straight a glance!

  "Why, yes. It is impossible, and, like all impossible things,perfectly true," he agreed, with the golden flecks dancing in andout of his eyes and a slow and lazy smile, a sort of secret smile,curving his beautiful, mocking mouth. "Fancy finding Love, of allthings, in Sophronisba's garden!" A fine black line of eyebrow wentup whimsically. "And now that you have found him," said Mr. Jelnik,"hadn't you better let me help you set him up?"