When Friday night came, Miss Virginia did not see her way clear to oppose the basket lessons, and in consequence found herself one of a merry party in the shop. Alex had come over with them, and presently Miss Sarah ran in.
Alex was in one of her bright moods, and Miss Sarah kept them laughing over her first experiences in paying her taxes. Miss Carpenter, as she separated long strands of raphia and initiated her pupils into the art of twisting and st.i.tching, was almost as merry as Miss Pennington, whose infectious laugh, as she related James Mandeville"s latest speeches, kept them all in a gale.
Once in the course of the evening, Norah said, in reference to a remark of somebody"s, "That reminds me of our friend the rich Miss Carpenter." And when the lesson was over, and Miss Virginia, beginning to murmur something about its being late, Charlotte suddenly announced, "I know a Miss Carpenter in Philadelphia."
There was an odd silence for a moment until she added: "At least, I don"t exactly know her, but I have heard a great deal about her. She lives across the street from my uncle, and last spring when I was there I used to see them take her out to drive. She had been ill, and I never really saw her. _She_ is rich, and I wondered if she could be the Miss Carpenter you spoke of, Miss Norah."
It was Marion who answered the question. "She is the very one. Norah thinks a great deal of her, in fact,--is a little absurd about her."
"Why shouldn"t I be? Hasn"t she done everything for us?" cried Norah, stoutly.
"Then you have seen her," said Charlotte, delightedly. "Is she beautiful and--everything--as Mrs. Wellington said?" she looked at Marion.
"Ask Miss Pennington."
"I consider her handsome and charming, but Marion is a connection and ought to be able to tell you more than I."
"I am glad you know her, for I am very much interested in her because of a special reason."
"Charlotte, my dear," Miss Virginia spoke warningly, "it is really time we were going."
The discovery that Miss Carpenter of the shop was a relative of the Philadelphia Carpenters relieved Miss Virginia beyond measure. She sat down at once to finish her letter and convey the news to her sister. She was vindicated; once more her conscience was easy.
The Terrace in general received the news with approval. That the shopkeepers were not exactly ordinary persons had been felt all along.
Everybody had heard of Peter Carpenter. Possibly the shop was simply another manifestation of family eccentricities on the part of this cousin. It was easily settled that Miss Marion was a cousin,--probably a second or third cousin; for Miss Virginia knew about the family, and Peter Carpenter had had but one son.
Mrs. Russell, who went to the shop with Alex one day, was greatly impressed with Marion"s bearing. "Any one can see she is not an ordinary person," she said.
"That must be because you know she is well-connected, mother," Alex replied. "Mrs. Millard could not see it."
"I trust I am not quite so prejudiced," Mrs. Russell said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND
VALENTINES
"Undoubtedly our connection with the rich Miss Carpenter has affected our social position. The air is full of affability. Before we know it, we shall be in society." Norah looked up from her account-book to make this remark.
"As it is all your doing, I trust you are pleased," returned Marion.
"That pretty fraud, Madelaine Russell, asked me yesterday if she might not come with Alexina to the basket making next Friday," continued Norah. "Of course I had to say "yes." Now I think I"ll ask that little type-writer girl I met at the mission. She is really a neighbor, for she boards in that tall, dreary house on the corner of Walnut and Pleasant streets."
"Why not ask her to dinner? I should really enjoy some company."
"A good idea, Marion. She looks hungry,--I don"t mean for dinner, but for something besides work. She is from the country. What have you in that bag, Infinitesimal James?--some more "finger ladies"?"
James Mandeville, who had at that moment entered, nodded his head, speech being for obvious reasons out of the question.
"Eating in the shop is against the rule, except at afternoon tea,"
said Marion. "You must go outside, or join Susanna in the kitchen."
"Did you happen to meet Mr. Goodman this morning?" asked Norah.
"Yes, he buyed the finger ladies," answered James Mandeville, helping himself again from the bag, and then pa.s.sing it around. "I am going to buy him a valentine," he added.
"To be sure, he deserves one. We"ll go down town this very afternoon and select it."
"Goody!" said James Mandeville, and in great spirits he carried his cakes out of doors, and was presently busily engaged in playing conductor on the doorstep, calling out in stentorian tones at intervals, "All on a board!"
Norah found the business of selecting valentines in company with a small boy, a lengthy one. James Mandeville"s taste was exacting. At first the comic ones caught his eye, and he was with difficulty induced to consider more worthy specimens of art; then he bestowed his favor upon an elaborate white satin heart, a combination sachet and valentine, and again had to be diverted. At length his selection was made,--a gilt and lace affair with a border of roses and the touching motto, "To my own true love."
On their way home they stopped in a large jewelry store where Norah had left her watch to be repaired, and while she waited she saw Wayland Leigh bending in an absorbed manner over a collection of fans,--delicate mother-of-pearl and lace trifles, as frail as they were pretty. What business had he with such expensive things? she wondered. It was quickly forgotten, however, in the difficulties involved in making headway past the show windows, James Mandeville wishing to exhaust the beauties of each one before moving on.
[Ill.u.s.tration: JAMES MANDEVILLE"S TASTE WAS EXACTING.]
The afternoon was nearly over when, after leaving her companion at his home, she entered the shop, where Marion was busy folding and putting away. Norah stood before the table, pulling off her gloves.
Suddenly she stooped and picked up an envelope from the floor. "Did you get a letter from Dr. Baird?" she asked, as she read the address.
Marion"s face flushed oddly. "No," she said, "it was just an enclosure."
"A valentine?" cried Norah; but Marion went on with her folding, and did not reply.
Norah walked to the window and looked out through the screen of plants at the Terrace and the faint rosy glow that lingered in the southwest.
She guessed what it was her friend had received, and for a moment she was not quite happy. Then she asked herself inwardly, but sternly, "Are you a selfish beast, Norah Pennington?"
Presently Marlon came behind her and put an arm around her. "You don"t mind my not showing it to you, Norah. It was only a--"
Norah turned, and with a sudden motion stopped the word on her lips.
"Child, what is friendship worth if one minds things--like that? I invited Miss Martin," she added.
Louise Martin was a fair, fresh-looking girl, who had come from a country town several years before, and after a course in a business college had found a position as stenographer in a real estate office.
Her gentle, refined manners had attracted Norah, who, persisting in the effort to make friends with her, had at length broken through the distant reserve with which she met all advances. The girl hesitated over the invitation, saying she did not often go anywhere; but Norah"s friendly manner won the day, and promptly at half past six on Friday evening Susanna ushered her into the shop.
Norah met her and presented her to Marion. "And now you are to come upstairs to take off your things, for that always seems the sociable way to begin," she said.
Miss Martin looked about her in surprise. "When you said you kept a shop, I did not dream it was like this."
"We pride ourselves on not keeping an ordinary shop, but a most unpretentious one, as you see."
"And this is where you live?" Miss Martin exclaimed with a sigh of admiration, as she followed her guide into a very simple bedroom.
"We live all over the house. This is my room, however."