The Green Dolphin
however, the absurdity of the idea put her terror to flight. Of course
nobody could proceed with such a function without her. Furthermore, the
gathering had not a funereal atmosphere. Fashionably gowned women with
gay parasols loitered on the lawn or paused on the steps to exchange
laughing gossip. There were men about, too, in sporting togs. The
verandas swarmed with people.
Then it flashed upon her that the moving crowd with its kaleidoscopic
dashes of color was the fulfillment of her dream. It was the Green
Dolphin!
Yes, it was the Dolphin as she had in her maddest moments pictured
it--the Dolphin a-hum with life and joviality!
As she passed in between the little tables and beheld them tempting
with roses and her treasured green china, it seemed as if the vision
could not be real, the beauty of it so far outstripped her ideal. There
were flowers everywhere and masses of bayberry in bowls, in hanging
baskets, and in nice old blue jars. Oh, the place had an air, she
realized that immediately. But how in the world had Asaph managed it?
He had scarcely mentioned the tea-house in the one hurriedly scrawled
postal he had sent her, and from his silence she had gathered that the
enterprise had gone to rack and ruin, and been the more impatient to
get back and grasp the tiller before the chance of salvaging the wreck
had vanished forever.
Could the shop have been going on like this all the while she had been
away? Oh, it was impossible. Asaph and that blundering Lemmy Gill could
never have contrived such a triumph.
For it was a triumph--every step she took convinced her of that. She
had thought Mattie Bearse’s Yaller Fish the pinnacle of elegance. But
her own Green Dolphin--!
Dragging her suitcase after her she went on through the house. Nobody
heeded her coming. It was too busy a spot for one more visitor to be
noticed. The tables were crowded, and as she passed along she glimpsed
her husband and Lemmy Gill moving in and out the room bearing aloft
trays laden with her precious china tea-sets. There was a stranger,
too, hovering about, a handsome young city man in conventional summer
garb, who was collecting money in a smart little wicker basket. She
should never have thought of using a basket; but how nice it was! She
speculated as to who this cashier could be. Apparently he was entirely
at home, for he chatted right and left with the guests and seemed to
be a general favorite with them. For that matter, Asaph and Lemmy were
gossiping and joking with people as if they had met them times without
number, especially a wizened old man in the corner whose daughter was
objecting:
“Now, Pa, I wouldn’t drink a second glass of that iced tea if I were
you. It will surely keep you awake.”
“Didn’t I have two yesterday, Sophie, and sleep like a top afterward?
Keep me awake! I guess not!”
So there had been a yesterday and perhaps a day before! The marvel was,
then, nothing new.
Althea threaded her way on into the kitchen and there on the threshold
stood transfixed, the enigma that had baffled her plain to her quick
understanding.
Amid a methodically arranged collection of tea bags, boiling kettles,
and moistly wrapped sandwiches was a young girl, bewilderingly pretty,
placing frosted cakes on a plate with a deftness that bespoke the
practised hand.
Althea had but to look at her and the mystery was solved.
Asaph had been compelled to summon professional aid! That explained
everything.
It was just as this answer to the conundrum flashed upon her that the
creature in the ridiculous apron turned and confronted her.
“Oh,” cried she, with a smile that fairly dazzled, “are you Mrs.
Holmes?”
“I am,” was the stiff response.
“How splendid to see you home again! I’m Peggy Davidson.”
Althea scanned her critically. She was not of the cheap class of
wage earner, that was evident. Doubtless she was some domestic
science graduate who commanded a fabulous price. Poor Asaph! He was
so impractical. Likely as not he had plunged helplessly in and hired
her without so much as referring to wages. That would be his way. He
wouldn’t have an idea whether her fee was large or small or whether he
was making money or losing it. It was safe to assume he was losing it.
The establishment was without question swamped, this very minute, with
debts. She ought never to have gone away and left such a project in his
hands and in the hands of that scatter-brained Lemuel Gill.
“I don’t believe I shall need you after today,” announced she to the
girl in her loftiest tone. “Now that I’m home I can look after things
myself.”
“Of course you can,” was the cordial reply. “Mr. Holmes will be
thankful enough to have you, too. Does he know you’re here?”
“No. He was busy when I came in.”
“It’s been frightful today,” said the sprite in the wee apron. “We have
been rushed to death. If the popularity of the Dolphin continues we
shall have to be putting tables on the lawn.”
The use of the word we indicated so obvious a participation in the
Dolphin’s affairs and familiarity with its interests that Althea once
more stole a sharp glance at the girl’s face.
She had finished with the cakes now and stood idly fanning herself with
a newspaper, and every time this improvised weapon swayed it set in
motion myriad soft little curls that clustered about her forehead. Oh,
her hair was pretty, very pretty--almost too pretty, thought the elder
woman with resentment.
“How did you leave Teddie?” Peggy suddenly inquired.
So she knew about Teddie, too! Probably Asaph, simple-minded and
confiding, had told her everything. Men were weak as dish-water when a
pretty girl was concerned.
“My nephew is better,” was her chilly response.
“I am glad! Mr. Holmes will be relieved. He has been worried about
the little chap. He is so sympathetic, he can’t bear to have a child
suffer.”
Then, beaming guilelessly at Althea, she added, “What a dear he is!”
At the audacity of the compliment the woman caught her breath. Oh, it
was full time she came home, thought she to herself. Not but that she
trusted Asaph. She would have trusted him to the other end of the world
if he were let alone. But men were human and none of them proof against
the wiles of a fascinating female, especially one that talked of books,
flowers, and favorite nephews.
It should be said to Althea’s credit that so tremendously proud was she
of Asaph, it never occurred to her there was anything incongruous in a
girl, however young, being attracted to her husband. He was one man in
a thousand, and such being the case was it to be expected all the world
but herself would be blind to his exceptional qualities? This minx in
the absurd apron, for example, had evidently already discovered what a
paragon he was.
Nevertheless, commendable as was her taste, some sort of rebuke was
certainly due her, and as Althea stood hesitating whether to put the
upstart in her place or ignore her brazen observation, Asaph himself
came hurrying into the kitchen.
“More cakes, Miss Davidson!” cried he. “They’re disappearin’ like live
bait. Haven’t we had a crowd, though?”
It was then he turned and caught sight of his wife.
“Althea! In all my born days I never was so glad to see a human bein’!
When did you get here?”
“Just now.”
“I didn’t notice you comin’ in.”
“You were too busy.”
Had she cherished a shadow of doubt as to her welcome it was forever
banished by the eagerness with which the great fellow seized her bag
and kissed her. They never had been much given to demonstrative
greetings, and for a person of his New Englandism to so far forget
his reserve as to embrace her in public caused her to flush like a
schoolgirl.
“I see you’ve made Miss Davidson’s acquaintance already,” he continued.
“She’s been my mainstay--she an’ Lemmy. I’d have sunk plumb to the
bottom but for them.”
“Oh, no, you wouldn’t, Mr. Holmes,” Peggy protested. “You and the
Dolphin were getting on perfectly well before I butted in.”
“Butted in!”
“Well, that is what I did, you know. I came over here from the hotel
all uninvited, Mrs. Holmes, just for the lark of it. I’ve always wanted
to try my luck with a tea-room.”
“You could run one to the queen’s taste!” came enthusiastically from
Asaph.
Light was breaking in on Althea’s confused mind.
“Was it you, Miss Davidson, fixed the tables, flowers an’ all?” asked
she.
“I helped. I enjoy doing such things.”
“You do them well.”
Althea might have said more but she was not given to slopping over;
perhaps for that very reason her praise, scantily doled out, carried
the more significance.
“Where’s the cakes you came after?” broke in Lemmy Gill, appearing in
the doorway. “Mr. Haverford an’ his old maid daughters are beat to a
frazzle waitin’ for ’em.”
“My soul! I clean forgot,” gasped the delinquent.
“No matter, Mr. Holmes. The Haverfords will be all the better for
digesting their tea,” laughed Peggy. “Here are the cakes, Captain Gill.
You take them in.”
Lemuel, born with a sweet tooth, looked longingly down on the freshly
filled plate.
“Ain’t they cute!” observed he. “How you ever contrived to frost ’em so
smooth I don’t see. I’ll bet, too, they’re good as they look. I could
swaller the dishful at one gulp.”
“You needn’t do it, though,” ordered Peggy, holding up a warning
finger. “Wait until by and by and you shall have some. I’ve a panful
tucked away on purpose for you.”
“That’s welcome tidin’s. And--my soul an’ body--if here ain’t Althea!
That tidin’s better yet. Oh, if we ain’t prayed night an’ day for your
comin’, Althea.”
“You seem to be makin’ out pretty well without me,” smiled the woman.
“We’re makin’ out,” granted Lemmy, “with the help of Miss Peggy here,
an’ Doctor Hollingsworth; we’re doin’ fine!”
“Doctor Hollingsworth?” repeated Althea, vaguely.
“He’s number four of the crew. Guess you ain’t met him yet.”
“An’ what is he doin’ here?” demanded the still puzzled sponsor of the
Green Dolphin.
Glancing furtively at Peggy, Lemuel cocked his head and with solemnity
winked one of his sharp little eyes.
“We found ’twas safer to keep a physician on the premises,” drawled he.
CHAPTER XI
That evening when the grey cottage had resumed its tranquillity; when
the sea flickered silver and a broad moonglade shimmered from the
doorway straight up to heaven, Asaph, seated on the rose-scented piazza
with his wife and Lemuel Gill, told Althea the story of the Dolphin. He
spun the yarn graphically with all a seafarer’s love of the dramatic,
and Althea laughed at its lights and shadows as she had not done in
years. Then, the tale finished, he went indoors and returned carrying a
cracked blue sugar-bowl from whose azure depths resounded the tinkle of
coins.
“Here’s what we’ve made,” announced he. “I’ve been too busy to figure
out what it comes to, but you’ll find it all in here.”
“How much do you reckon ’twill add up?” speculated Lemmy Gill, the
financial angle of the venture for the first time stirring his
interest. “We’d oughter counted it an’ found out. But we were so dead
beat when night come we didn’t care. Had we taken in a million dollars
I wouldn’t ’a’ turned my hand over for it. Still ’twill be amusin’ now
to find out. Let’s give a guess.”
“Twenty-five dollars,” hazarded Asaph.
“Nonsense!” jeered the more worldly-minded Captain. “It’s nearer
seventy-five.”
“Oh, it couldn’t be so much as that, Lemmy,” contradicted Althea.
“Have a look an’ see if ’tain’t,” urged Lemuel.
“Seventy-five dollars is a mint of money, Lemmy. It would never come to
that,” rejoined Asaph. “Tip it out, Althea, an’ give us the total. Then
we’ll know without doin’ more guessin’.”
Obediently his wife tumbled the disputed contents of the sugar-bowl