The Spanish Chest | Page 4

lodgers and his presence might be objectionable
to them. You will excuse me now, as I have an engagement. I will ring
for Nurse to show you out."
"Well, really, Miss Pearce," began the voice, but Nurse appeared on the
scene so promptly that one might have suspected her of being all the
time within hearing distance. Edith scuttled into the drawing-room, just

avoiding a very large, over-dressed person, who came ponderously
down the stairs, a moppy white dog festooned over one arm. Her face
was red and perspiring and she seemed to be indignantly struggling
with feelings too strong for words. Edith could not suppress a stifled
laugh as she was ushered from the house in Nurse's grandest manner.
Emerging from her refuge, Edith saw Estelle on the landing, her face
pale except for a tiny red spot on either cheek, her eyes unnaturally
bright.
"My word, Star!" said Edith, giggling, "didn't you get rid of her finely?
What a fearful person!"
"She was impossible," said Estelle. "Oh, Nurse," she exclaimed
impetuously, seeing the old family servant still lingering in the hall, "do
you suppose only people like that will want lodgings?"
"No, indeed, my lamb," replied Nurse, casting a glance of satisfaction
after the cab disappearing from the terrace. "Don't you fret, Miss Star,
and don't you take the first people who come. Just bide your time, and
there'll be some quality who will be what you ought to have."
"Mr. Angus thought Americans might be rather desirable," said Estelle
hesitatingly. To prepare Nurse for such a possibility might be wise.
Nurse pursed her lips significantly. "Well, it's not for me to disagree
with the reverend gentleman," she remarked. "And I haven't been in
contact with Americans. No doubt they're well enough in their country,
but I hope, Miss Star, it'll be some of our people that want to come.
Now an elderly couple or some middle-aged ladies would be quite
suitable and proper, but Americans--Well, I don't know."
Nurse shook her head dubiously as she left the room. Edith came to put
her arms about Estelle.
"What a fearful woman that was!" she repeated, drawing her sister
toward the window. "Poor Star, I'm sorry you had to talk to her. Rooms
underfurnished, indeed! And you tried so hard not to have them

crowded and messed with frightful crocheted wool things. She'd want a
tidy on every chair and extra ones for Sunday. And you've made things
so pretty, Star!"
"We think so, don't we!" replied Estelle, kissing her little comforter.
"Somebody may yet come who will agree with us. We won't give up
hope."
Estelle was silent for a moment. She did not want Edith to suspect how
very necessary it was that those rooms should prove attractive to
somebody.
"Is that the Southampton boat just rounding the point?" she added.
"She's extremely late."
"They must have had a rough passage," agreed Edith, looking at the
steamer ploughing into the smooth water of St. Aubin's bay. "Let's put
a wish on her, Star. Let's wish, hard, that she has on board the nicest
people that ever were and that they're coming straight out here and say
they'd like to spend the winter with us!"
CHAPTER II
FRAN ENGAGES LODGINGS
"I positively refuse," said Mrs. Thayne, "to go out again to-day. And I
wish you wouldn't go either, Wingate," she added to her older son.
"That steamer trip was frightful. What a night we did have! As for you
two," she went on to Frances and Roger, "I suppose you won't be happy
until you are off for an exploring expedition, but I don't see how you
can feel like it."
"Why, Mother, I wasn't seasick," said Roger, a handsome,
mischievous-looking boy about twelve. "I slept like a log till I heard
Win being--hmm--unhappy. That woke me but I turned over and didn't
know anything more till daylight."
"I shouldn't have been sick if you hadn't begun it, Mother," observed

Frances, turning from the window overlooking the esplanade. "I feel all
right now. Mayn't Roger and I go down on the beach or take a car
ride?" she asked, eagerly.
"I don't imagine there are any electric cars on the island," said Mrs.
Thayne.
"But out here is a funny little steam tram marked St. Aubin's,"
interposed Frances. "It's going somewhere. Look at the dinky cars with
a kind of balcony and that speck of an engine."
"That's a pony engine for sure," drawled Win, joining his sister at the
window. Except that he was thin and fragile no one could have known
from Win's clever, merry dark face, how greatly he was handicapped
by a serious heart trouble. But the contrast between his tall, loosely-knit
figure and Fran's compact little person brought a wistful expression into
Mrs. Thayne's observant eyes.