Peggy-Alone Part 14

Laura gave a backward glance at the haughty little maid hurrying along as fast as she could, while the wind sent the mop of curls flying around her head in all directions.

For a few moments she stared blankly down the street, half expecting Ivy to turn around, but she failed to do so, and Laura, with a heightened sense of injury, went on her way intending to take the first side-street home.

But the longer the distance grew between herself and Ivy, the unhappier she became, the more she repented her harsh words. It was really no wonder that Ivy had thought them unfeeling at a time, especially, when she was already upset by her encounter with Lafe. Perhaps, too, this was one of Ivy's bad days when the least contradiction irritated her.

In this strain ran Laura's thoughts and the longer she pondered, the slower she walked until at last she came to a standstill.

It was right at the top of a hilly street which commanded a fine view.

In the distance were the blue shadows of mountains; the river swept along between green-verdured hills; a steamboat with lowered stacks was pa.s.sing beneath the bridge that hung like a black line connecting the east and west sides of the town. Overhead shone the midday sun in a sky of cloudless blue, but nature spread her canvas all in vain for Laura. Another time she would have paused to drink in the beauty of the scene, to follow with admiring eyes the movements of the boat which, brave in a new coat of paint, swept along in a wake of billowing foam, but to-day she stood unheeding. All that she saw was the pathetic figure of a little girl with crutches receding in the distance.

Something clutched at Laura's throat. Her resentment against Ivy died away, leaving only blame for herself. With a sudden resolve she turned and hurriedly retraced her steps.

"Nothing but a cross cat would act the way I did!"

Faster and faster she went until, as she came around a corner, she almost collided with someone hastening up the street. A little hot hand clutched her arm--

"Oh, Lol, is it you? I came back to make up! Someway I can't bear to be on the outs with you!"

Ivy was breathless and perspiring and her hat was blown all to one side.

Laura reached over and set it straight carefully, almost caressingly.

"Oh, Ivy-vine, neither can I--Isn't it funny? Shall we go on?"

Laughing softly and blinking back the tears of which they were half ashamed, they continued up the street, happy in the reconciliation, so facile and so complete in childhood, when bygones are bygones, and there is no danger of ghosts, once laid, ever rising up again to give added rancor to future disagreements.

What a beautiful day it was and how the sun shone and how blissfully they drank in the air!

"Oh, Lol, see, there's a wagon in front of Jarrett's Hall! I do believe those men belong to the show!" cried Ivy.

"Let's go up and look round," proposed Laura.

They had reached a long building fronting on Main Street, the first story of which was occupied by a half dozen stores. They climbed a covered stairway that led to the second story. At the top of the "hall stairs," as they were called, was the main entrance to the hall which occupied the second story of the edifice. These stairs also opened upon a sort of court, from which a broad flight of stone steps led to an upper street.

By walking along the court, the girls were on a level with the inner windows of the hall. The outside shutters stood wide open to admit light, and a few children were peering curiously through the dusty panes. Further away was a narrow door sacred to the use of actors or employes of the hall.

Laura observed that this door was closed when she and Ivy first appeared upon the scene; but after a time, leaving Ivy at a good position at the window with her inquisitive eyes pressed against the gla.s.s, Laura strayed back and found the door open.

She hastened to the threshold and took a long, eager look into the dingy hall, from the curious little box-like office at the "grand entrance," as the double wooden door was styled, past the rows of rough benches to the stage at the upper end of the hall, where some carpenters and other employes were busy making arrangements for the evening's performance.

Neither the dust nor the dinginess was seen by Laura. A subtle fascination held her in thrall--she saw everything through a golden light.

She, who had been stage manager so often under the disadvantages of improvised platforms and home-made curtains, could appreciate a real hall and a real stage with a real curtain, were they ever so crude.

She was on the point of returning to fetch Ivy to view the magic scene and share her joy, when one of the men, who appeared to be a personage of authority, left the stage where he had been directing the movements of everybody, and proceeded down the aisle.

His coat brushed against a bench and sustained a smudge of dust which he viewed with an exclamation of disgust.

Returning to the dressing-room, he hunted round and found a feather-duster which he carried away in triumph.

He came down the aisle for the second time, wielding the brush with vigor, making frantic dabs at the benches on each side, and raising great clouds of dust that rose and enveloped him, and settled back again on the furniture.

Laura was so interested in his movements that she forgot her manners, and stood watching his ineffectual efforts at cleaning up, with a smile of amus.e.m.e.nt mingled with compa.s.sion.

At length the stranger was seized with a fit of coughing as the dust invaded his throat, and he stood for a moment to rest from his labors.

Then for the first time he noticed the little girl standing smiling in the doorway.

He gave her an answering smile, lifted his hat and, to Laura's dismay, crossed over to her side.

He was very dark and foreign looking; she recognized him as one of the gentlemen whom she and Ivy had noticed on the street.

"Pardon, _mademoiselle_," he said; "but perhaps you are the good fairy to help me out!"

Laura answered him with a blush and a look of inquiry.

"The dust, _c'est_ terrible," he went on to explain; "but there is no one to remove it from the seats. The ladies will have fear for their beautiful costumes. Can you not direct me to someone who will manipulate this woman's weapon? I confess it is beyond my powers!"

He glanced so ruefully at the feather brush that Laura laughed aloud.

"Why, I can dust the benches in a little while, if you wis.h.!.+"

"Did not my heart tell me you were my good angel? Oh, _mademoiselle_, if you will be so kind!"

He handed the duster to Laura with a sigh of relief and returned to the overseeing of things in another part of the hall.

"Why, Lol, it's like belonging to the troupe," cried Ivy, who came at her friend's call and seated herself on a back seat where she could see everything that went on, while Laura gave the benches a careful overhauling.

Meanwhile the open doorway was filled with a group of curious children, wide-eyed and smiling, among whom were Nettie Lee and little Claude Bonner.

Laura's task completed, she placed the duster upon a front seat and turned to go away with Ivy. They had almost reached the door when they heard a voice:

"_Merci, mademoiselle_," cried the foreign gentleman, overtaking them; "may I prevail upon you to accept this ticket to the performance, as a slight acknowledgment of my obligations--or, better still," as he glanced at Ivy, "come to the side door tonight and ask for Mr. Edmonds and bring your sister and," his eyes strayed to the line of wondering childish faces at the door, "the rest of your little brothers and sisters!"

Laura's surprised and happy look and Ivy's gasp of pleasure gave testimony to their delight, and the man smiled as he watched them going away joyfully.

"_Merci, mademoiselle!_" cried Ivy, with a t.i.tter of delight, "Oh, Lol, isn't it lovely to be able to go after all!"

"Yes, it's fine! But I shall have to hurry home; there will be so much to do. I must help Nettie to get ready."

That little girl who was walking behind them clapped her hands.

"What are you going to wear, Laura?"

"Me? My white, I guess--"

"I'll wear my old standby--the dotted lawn."

They went down the street chatting gaily but presently Ivy's enthusiasm died away; her mind seemed intent on something else. At last she turned to Laura, saying in a rather choked voice: