Miss Gibbie Gault | Page 9

or hell to get rid of her, but you can't trust them. How about Mr. Chinn?"
"Hardest of all. He can't speak correctly, and has never been out of Yorkburg a week in his life. And yet he says we've got as good streets as we need, and he doesn't approve of all this education, anyhow."
"Naturally. People are generally opposed to things they know nothing about. Here, Hedwig, take my hat and bring me some iced tea--and next time your Fraulein hides in the orchard you can find her and not send me there."
Blowing somewhat from her walk, Miss Gibbie dropped in a chair in the hall, unfastened the strings of her broad-brimmed hat and handed it to Hedwig. Spreading out her ample skirts, she pulled off her white cotton gloves, opened the bag hanging from her waist, took from it a handkerchief of finest thread, and with it wiped her face. After a moment she glanced around. "A house knows when it is occupied. Sleeping here has given things a different air." She looked at the girl standing in front of her, hands clasped behind, and the turkey-wing fan stopped on its backward motion. "You are sure you will not be lonely? Sure you will not be afraid?"
"Afraid! I'm not just Mary Cary, I'm Martha Cary also. Martha has never been afraid, and Mary has never been lonely in her life. And I love it so, my little Harmony House! Oh, Miss Gibbie, you have been so good, so precious good!" The strong young arms reached down, and on her warm breast she drew the anxious face of the older woman, kissed it swiftly, then pushed her back against the cushions. "If only you would let me tell how good you've been!"
"If only you would behave yourself and get me some tea I would think more of you. There are many things I might forgive, but never the telling of my private affairs. Where is that list of City Fathers? Here, get me another chair. One feels like a kitty puss on a feather-bed in a thing of this kind. I prefer to sit like a human being."
With an effort she extricated herself from the depths of the big chintz-covered chair and took a tall straight one near the table on which Hedwig was placing iced tea and sandwiches, and as she reached for the tea with her right hand, she held out her left for the paper Mary Cary was bringing to her.
She glanced down its length, and for some moments drank her tea in silence save for an occasional grunt which was half sniff, half snort; then as she put down her glass and took up a sandwich she waved the paper in good-natured derision.
"And that's what governs us--that!
"Oh, august body of assembled men, The gods in thee have come to earth again!"
She bit into the sandwich and again skimmed the paper. "These are the individuals who make our local laws and do with our taxes what they will. Listen:
"'1. Josiah Chinn, Undertaker.' Deals with the dead. An eye single to the grave.
"'2. Franklin Semph, Machine Agent.' Travels. Sleeps home two nights in the week. Drinks.
"'3. Richard Moon, President Woolen Mills.' In council as matter of conscience. Only attends when Mary Cary makes him.
"'4. Jefferson Mowry. Chewer and spitter.' Livery business. Reads less than he writes--never writes.
"'5. Jacob Walstein, born Pawnbroker, now Banker.' Rich and rising.
"'6. Williamson Brent, General Merchandise.' Votes as he's told by the last person who tells. Putty man.
"'7. Blacker Ash, Secretary and Treasurer of Yorkburg Shoe Factory.' Sensible and good worker. Bachelor. Does as Miss Cary tells him.
"'8. John Armitage. Soap-box politician.' Clerk in Mr. Blick's grocery store. Salary eight dollars per week. When it's ten he will marry; told me so.
"'9. Robertson Grey, Lawyer.' Well born and lazy.
"'10. Patrick Milligan.' Whiskey business and good talker. Slippery."
She crumpled the paper and threw it at the girl standing in front of her. "There," she said, "there's the list of your Yorkburg Fathers. I hope Hedwig will fumigate you when you get home to-night."
"She will if necessary." The crumpled paper was smoothed and folded carefully. "But I don't believe it will be. I've taken tea with most of their families."
"You've taken what?" Miss Gibbie bounced half-way out of her chair.
"Tea." Mary Cary's head nodded affirmatively. "That's what I said, tea--I mean supper. I invited myself to some of the places, but some of the people invited me themselves. I'm afraid I did hint a little. But we had a good time, and I've got my little piece of paper--see!"
She held a note-book toward Miss Gibbie, but the latter waved it back. "Do you mean you sat down at the table and ate with them?"
"That's what I did. It would have been better could they have sat