The Green Dolphin
was loaded with ’em, Sarah just up an’ told Jabez he’d have to choose
’twixt them an’ her. Either they went out of the house or she did.”
“Land alive! She did bring him up with a sharp turn,” ejaculated
Rebecca.
“He had to be brought up,” was the brief response.
“Somehow such decisiveness don’t sound like your sister Sarah,”
ventured Lemuel Gill after a pause. “’Twarn’t one of them times when
you went up to sorter advise her, was it?”
A flush crept into the woman’s cheek, and seeing it Lemmy smiled.
“Wal’,” drawled he, “don’t worry, Althea. I won’t give Asaph no
dahlias. Then he’ll be saved the trouble of choosin’ ’twixt ’em an’
you.” And feeling he had repaid in full the taunts that had been heaped
upon him, the Captain rose, and chuckling to himself, departed down the
lane.
CHAPTER XV
Monday proved to be a record-breaking afternoon at the Dolphin. Golden
with sunshine and cooled by a gentle southwest wind, it was one of
those rarely beautiful days that seldom fail to lure pleasure-seekers
out into its glory. Never had the sky arched over a bluer sea, or
meadow and marsh been clothed in more vividly resplendent green.
Through the wee Cape villages motor cars raced this way and that, and
long before tea time every table on the Holmes’s piazza brimmed with
guests.
All the morning Althea and Rebecca had been preparing for the rush
experience had taught them such weather was sure to bring, and the
reluctant Asaph, who had sneaked surreptitiously away to dig a bit of
bone meal in around his hollyhocks, was promptly recalled from this
congenial task and set to gathering fresh bayberry for jars and baskets.
He lent his services grudgingly. The fascinations of tea drinking were
beginning to pall on him, and now that his wife had a competent helper
he had fallen into the habit of letting one after another of his
former duties slip off on to Rebecca’s willing shoulders.
Today he obeyed Althea’s summons with even less alacrity than usual,
causing her to exclaim with impatience:
“Do hurry up, Asaph. Seem’s if it’s the least you can do to fetch the
greens if ’Becca an’ I ’tend to the rest of the work. Since you’re
bound to potter with flowers anyhow, why not do it to some purpose? All
that diggin’ don’t amount to anything except to make the hollyhocks
shoot up higher, an’ goodness knows we can hardly see the tips of ’em
as ’tis.”
“Cultivatin’ keeps ’em bloomin’.”
“I wouldn’t have the face to urge human plants to blossom more’n they
have,” was the curt retort. “Ain’t they crowded with buds this minute?”
“That’s ’cause I’ve put fertilizer on ’em,” returned the man with
triumph.
“Pooh! How can you be sure they wouldn’t ’a’ bloomed that way anyhow?”
Asaph sighed. To prove horticultural truths to one as skeptical as
Althea was well-nigh hopeless.
“Here’s a basket to gather the bayberry in,” went on his wife, in no
mind to abandon her purpose until she beheld her victim safely on his
way. “An’ before you go, do move these cloth-covered boxes off the back
steps. Somebody’s goin’ to break their neck over ’em if you don’t. I
thought I asked you yesterday to tote ’em round behind the house.”
“These are others.”
“What’s in ’em?”
“Young asters, a new kind. I got the seed from a New Jersey nursery an’
am tryin’ it.” Asaph bent tenderly over his treasures. “They ain’t very
strong yet, so I’m protectin’ ’em from the sun for a few days.”
“You ain’t got my cheese-cloth duster over ’em!”
“I don’t know. It’s a piece of thin stuff I found lyin’ round.”
“It is my duster--one of my weddin’ ones--all feather-stitched round
the edge. I hunted high an’ low for it yesterday,” announced Althea.
“An’ that muslin--if it ain’t the shed sash curtain that I took down to
wash!”
“Is it?” The florist, interested in his plants, spoke with indifference.
“Yes, it is!” reproached Althea. “Now, you can’t have either of
those things. The very idea! A good sash curtain to cover over your
boxes of dirt. It’s a wonder you wouldn’t take the parlor draperies.
Why don’t you ask me when you want somethin’ instead of catchin’ up
whatever’s in sight without so much as lookin’ to see what it is? My
nice scrim curtain--an’ scrim costin’ what it does today!” She sighed
a disheartened sigh. “Likely it’s torn, stained, an’ good for nothin’
now.”
“I’m sorry,” murmured the penitent. “I’d no idea ’twas of any account.”
“Nothin’s of account to you ’cept that garden,” flared Althea in an
outburst of indignation. “I’m actually gettin’ so I dare not put a
thing out of my hand lest it be grabbed up an’ used for plant growin’.
Every tin in the pantry would ’a’ had poison mixed in it if I hadn’t
set my foot down. As ’tis it’s a marvel we ain’t all been killed long
before this with your blue sprays, brown sprays, an’ yaller sprays. Now
you take my sash curtain straight off that soap box; an’ the duster,
too.”
“But, Althea, I’ve got to have somethin’ thin to shade them seeds,”
protested her husband.
At precisely this juncture Rebecca Crosby, bearing a basketful of
freshly washed silver towels, sauntered carelessly out the door.
“My, what a day!” exclaimed she, breaking cheerily in on the scene.
“These towels will dry in no time.” Then glancing down she remarked
casually: “What you got there, Mr. Holmes? The new pink asters? I’d
no idea they were up so far. Ain’t they a mite young for the bright
sunlight? I’ve a scrap or two of muslin you might spread over ’em if
you’d like it. ’Twas an apron I thought mebbe I’d take a stitch in
sometime; but it’s really too old to mend.”
“I’d admire to have it.” There was no mistaking Asaph’s gratitude.
“You would? Well, well! I hardly thought you’d care for it. I’ll run
an’ fetch it. Goodness knows I’ll be only too thankful to have it used
an’ out of the way.”
In a trice Rebecca returned, the cobweb of cloth in her hand.
“It don’t look worn,” commented Althea as she stooped to reclaim her
property.
“I know it,” agreed ’Becca, her cheeks turning pink. “But for all that
it’s rotten as can be. A touch would send it into ribbons. However, I
guess ’twill serve to shade these seedlin’s till they’re big enough to
do without protection.” Then addressing Asaph she said in a lower tone:
“Why don’t you lay a board or two out beyond the currant bushes an’ put
your boxes there? Then they’ll be out of harm’s way an’ certain not to
get stepped on.”
“I s’pose I might.”
“Here’s Captain Gill a-comin’,” proceeded the diplomatist swiftly.
“Like’s not he’ll help you move ’em an’ help about gettin’ the
bayberry, too.” As she spoke she whisked about and caught up her basket.
“’Mornin’, Miss Rebecca,” called the new arrival when he was within
hailing distance.
“Good-mornin’, Cap’n.”
“Not leavin’ us, are you?”
“Yes, I must go an’ hang out my towels. We’ve a busy day ahead.”
“Expectin’ lots of folks for tea?” It was a foolish question and Lemuel
knew it, but at the moment it was the only one he could think of to
arrest Rebecca’s departing footsteps.
Miss Crosby, however, was not to be detained by so transparent a ruse.
She even scorned to reply to it. Instead she nodded over her shoulder
and moved unrelentingly off in the direction of the clothes yard.
“What’s she always in such a damned hurry for?” Lemmy interrogated.
“Has things to do, I reckon,” was his crony’s guarded answer.
“So do I,” grumbled Lemuel. “I have oceans of things to do. So does
everybody. All the same I don’t set about ’em as if I’d been shot out
of a gun.”
“Mebbe you’d have more to show for it if you did,” grinned the other
man. “Come, bear a hand an’ help me h’ist these boxes, will you, Lemmy?
I’m goin’ to move ’em over beyond the currants.”
“What for? I thought we decided yesterday this exposure would be--”
“Althea says--”
“Oh!”
Without further argument Lemuel rolled up his sleeves and the two
confederates tugged the offending seedlings away.
When they were well out of sight Rebecca came with deliberation back
from behind the house. She was humming softly and the sunshine or some
other agency as potent had brought a flush of rose into her cheeks. If
she had previously been in haste, her hurry was to all appearances now
forgotten, for she stopped and, as if she had the whole day before her,
centred her attention on fastening into her crisp print gown a spray
of heliotrope she had gathered. It was while she was thus engaged that
Eric Hollingsworth turned in at the gate.
Rebecca greeted him with a welcoming smile.
“A glorious mornin’, Doctor.”
“M--yes. The weather’s all right.”
“Where’s Peggy?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“You’ve not seen her today?”
“Oh, I’ve seen her. She’s got company though.”
The newcomer gazed moodily out to sea.
“Company! Now that’s nice,” returned Miss Crosby, with instant
interest. “I was thinkin’ only the other day how pleasant ’twould be if
there were more young folks over at the Inn. Some friend of hers from
Cambridge?”
No answer came from the Doctor.
“I reckon it must be,” soliloquized Rebecca, after having waited a
second and received no reply. “Likely it’s some girl from Cambridge--or
mebbe Boston.”
“It isn’t a girl,” burst out Eric irritably. “It’s some darn navy chap
plastered all over with brass buttons.”
“My soul an’ body! An’ when did he arrive?”
“Saturday night, just before the dance.”
“You don’t say! He was a dancin’ man, I s’pose.”
“All those popinjays dance,” growled the physician.
“Prob’ly they do,” came serenely from Rebecca, who bent to smooth out
the hem of her apron. “They’re taught on shipboard most likely to make
themselves agreeable no matter what.”
“Well, they can be agreeable for all me,” sneered Doctor Hollingsworth
with a short laugh. Nevertheless the rebuke had its effect, for the
frown furrowing his brow lessened and he contrived to direct toward the
woman at his elbow a wry smile.
Faint as was this apology, it had upon Rebecca, accustomed habitually
to go more than her half way, immediate effect.
“Prob’ly he won’t stay long,” soothed she in a voice reassuring with
comfort and sympathy. “Those officers only have short spells of shore
leave. They always have to get back to their ships within a few days.”
The Doctor did not appear to have heard the words, but the viciousness
with which he kicked the turf abated noticeably.
Rebecca eyed him from under her lashes.
“I don’t s’pose you’d have the leisure to stay an’ help us a bit
today,” ventured she presently. “I’ve no business to ask you, an’
Althea’ll likely trounce me for doin’ it. But we’re kinder put to it to
get ready for the throngs of folks we’re expectin’ this afternoon, an’
if you could give us a little lift--”
“I’ve all the time in the world.”
“Really? You’re sure I’m not takin’ you away from somethin’ you’d
planned on doin’?”
“Certain sure!”
“Now ain’t that lucky! You couldn’t ’a’ happened along at a better
time. With the weather what it is another pair of hands will be a
positive blessin’.”
The subtle implication that somebody was eager for his society
flattered the disheartened lover, who brightened very considerably.
“I’ll do anything you order--gather greens or slice lemon,” laughed he
magnanimously.
“Gather greens! Now how did you come to think of that? Mr. Holmes an’
Cap’n Gill are settin’ out this very minute to cut bayberry an’ cedar.
If only you’d go along with ’em an’ see they get the right sort of
sprays it would be the biggest comfort. You know what we want so much
better’n they do.”
Ah, Eric knew! Had he not helped Peggy arrange the decorations scores
of times?
“You can take my basket,” pursued Rebecca, giving him the empty one
that was in her hand. “Get cedar that has berries on it if you can;
it’s so much prettier.”