The Story of the Big Front Door | Page 6

"Mrs. Ford isn't a bit like you, Aunt Zélie; she was dreadfully mad at
Ikey, and said he must stay in his room all day," remarked Louise.
"I am sorry for Mrs. Ford. I rather think I should be dreadfully mad too,
if I were in her place. She is an old lady and is used to having her
household affairs move on smoothly, and one day she finds her
servants upset and some of her property missing, all because certain
naughty children cared more for a little fun than for her comfort."
Aunt Zélie spoke gravely, and her audience looked very much subdued.

In the course of the day Joanna, one of the maids, was sent over to the
Brown house to inquire about the things left by the children in the
garden. She returned with the missing articles, which had been carried
into the house by the man who cut the grass.
"Did you see anybody, Jo? Are there any children?" were the questions
she met with. But she had only seen a middle-aged woman who was
cleaning the hall, and had learned nothing about the new occupants.
"It is very stupid of Joanna," said Carl as he rolled up the rug and the
clothes-pins and marched over to apologize to Mrs. Ford for their share
of the mischief. He did this so meekly and with such evident sincerity
that the old lady was greatly mollified, and sent him up to tell Ikey he
might consider himself released from the day's confinement in his
room.
For the rest of the week the children were models of propriety. No one
would have dreamed that they had been outlaws so short a time before.
From the star chamber windows Robin and his merry men looked down
on the transformation which was taking place in their old domain.
The long grass was cut down, and with it those patches of pepper grass
that had seasoned many a feast. The bushes and vines were trimmed,
the walk was reddened, the shutters were thrown open. Every day
added something to the change, yet, besides the servants, no one had
been seen about the house.
Who could their new neighbors be? The subject was discussed morning,
noon, and night, till their father said he would have to tell them the
story of the man who made a fortune minding his own business. Uncle
William, who was there at the time, said that probably the man was too
stupid to enjoy his fortune after he made it, and he pretended to be
willing to go over and inquire at the door, if Louise would go with him.
"At least we know there can't be any children," said Bess, "for they
couldn't stay in the house all the time."

"Please tell us the story about the man, Father," asked little Helen, and
couldn't understand why they all laughed.
CHAPTER III.
THE LADY OF THE BROWN HOUSE.
Bang! went the door, and away they rushed, like a small tornado, across
the porch, down the walk and over the street.
They seemed to be running away from Helen, for a second after they
had vanished behind Mrs. Ford's oleanders she came around the house.
Indignant tears were in her eyes; it was hard not to be wanted, to be
thought too little to play with. Bess and Louise had such good times
with the boys and she had nothing in the world to do this afternoon. To
be sure they had been very gracious all morning, and had even allowed
her to listen to a thrilling chapter in the history of the Carletons, but this
was too good to last.
At lunch certain signs passed back and forth across the table arousing
her curiosity, and afterwards when she found them laughing on the
stairs and begged to know what they were going to do, Carl had replied
provokingly, "What do you suppose?" and now they had run away with
Ikey somewhere. The house was very quiet; Carie was taking her nap,
Aunt Zélie dressing to go out. Helen sat down on the top step of the
porch and wiped her eyes, saying to herself, "They are just as mean as
anything, but I don't care--I'll have a good time too. I think I'll ask Aunt
Zélie to let me go with her."
It happened that as the runaways reached the gate Aunt Marcia's coupé
turned the corner, and her horrified eyes beheld their flight. When she
stepped from her carriage her lips were firmly closed in a manner
which indicated that they would be opened presently for somebody's
benefit. She was so absorbed that she almost fell over the woebegone
little figure on the step.
"You have been crying--what is the matter?" she demanded.

"Oh, Aunt Marcia, I didn't see you--please