Chapter XXII: Vexations and Consolations

Ivy turned disconsolately from the window. She had waved good-by to Laura and Alene when they had looked round at the corner ere passing from view on their way to the glass-boat.

The trip had been postponed from day to day in the hope of her being able to go along, and even at the last moment her friends had wished to give it up and devote the afternoon to an indoor meeting of the Happy-Go-Luckys; but Ivy would not have it so; she insisted on their going, she vetoed every argument to the contrary, but now that they were beyond recall and she faced the empty room she almost regretted her persistence.

And yet it was a pleasant room enough, with nothing of luxury to recommend it but having an air of quiet comfort. An unobtrusive wall paper, a green-and-oak carpet, a bright rug before the fire-place, which was filled with tall ferns; a picture of the "Mammoth Trees of California," above the mantel, a lamp with a green globe hanging over the center-table, a few chairs, and Ivy's couch drawn close to the two windows with their snowy curtains--all beautifully neat and clean, but alas, so tiresomely familiar to the little prisoner. Even the sight of her books piled at the foot of the lounge wearied her!

She threw aside the beloved Sunset Book after vainly trying to get interested in it. How flat and unprofitable it seemed! Why could she never write anything but the trite and useless things that almost anyone who was able to hold a pen could say as well or better? The verses about the four o'clocks, which the other day had seemed a pretty conceit, to-day sounded silly, fit only for the little waste-basket at her side, where she threw them with disdain.

Life was unprofitable, friends noticeable only by their absence; even the faithful Hugh had deserted her. He had made no motion toward "making up" since the day they went blackberrying--it would have served him right if the bull had put an end to her! If that boy Mark Griffin hadn't interfered--and why he had she didn't know, what business was it of his?--Hugh, instead of wearing his air of indifference, would be crying his eyes out beside her dead body--or rather her grave, for she would be buried and done with by this time. But no; here she herself, instead of Hugh, was crying over it! For the last week he had been even less attentive than ever; he was up and out long before she awoke in the mornings, came home at noon to snatch a hasty lunch and was off again after supper until bedtime, with only a careless nod to her, Ivy, whom he had hitherto allowed to claim all his attention and the little leisure time he could spare from his work as office-boy and assistant clerk in a real-estate firm down street.

Heigho! Who was that coming? Claude and Nettie, hand in hand, with beaming faces and crumby lips!

"Oh, you greedy youngsters, where do you put all the cake and things you devour, anyway?"

Simultaneously two mouths were opened wide.

"They are big enough naturally, you needn't stretch them! No wonder you are both noted dunces in your class--you are nothing but mouth and stomach! Come here, I've a little time. Let's see what you can do!"

"I can figure!" said Nettie proudly, but she eyed the slate upon which Ivy had written, half abashed.

"Three plus two equals what?" said Ivy.

"Six!"

"No, try again!"

"Six!" cried Nettie decidedly again.

"No; five, stupid!"

"Six," reiterated Nettie, "Teacher says so!"

"That's three multiplied by two; I said three _plus_--"

"Well, it's six at our school," declared Nettie doggedly, her eyes half filled with tears.

"To think you are any relation to Laura! Why, she's as bright--"

"She's big, and awful old, and not half as nice as Nettie!" cried Claude.

"Indeed, no wonder you stand up for her! You don't even know the alphabet!"

"Yes, I do!"

"Well, see here!" Ivy picked up his primer.

"I don't want to study--it's vacation!" said Claude, drawing back.

"He may injure his brain by overstudy; such a precocious scholar!"

Nettie pursed out her lip. "Precious scolder herself!" she muttered.

"Come, Claude, I'll give you this big red apple if you say it correctly," urged Ivy.

"A--B--C," commenced Claude bravely, "A--B--C--Poke Bonnet."

"No, that's D!"

"Well, it looks like a poke," returned Claude.

"How funny! It only needs a bow and string, see?" cried the little girl.

Claude proceeded with the letters:

"L--M--N--the same old hoop--I ought to know its name."

"O," whispered Nettie.

He turned upon her indignantly--

"I was just going to say O--that's easy! P--Q--R--little wormy thing--Oh, bother T--U--V--W--let's see, see-saw, X--wizie!" he concluded triumphantly and with a sudden movement he snatched the apple from Ivy's lap.

"Come back, you didn't earn it!" commanded Ivy.

"I did, didn't I, Nettie?" he cried, digging his uneven little teeth into the rosy cheek of the apple.

"Come here at once!"

Ivy reached for her crutches but Nettie, too quick for her, grabbed one and fled with Claude, while Ivy in a rage threw the other after them. Across the floor it sailed and hit against the wall with a resounding clap.

"That's the end of my teaching, and everything I do trying to help others ends just that way! Now in the story-books the children are good and no matter how dull, anxious to learn and thankful to be taught, and the teacher gets some satisfaction out of it! I believe the only respectable children are in books; the others are imps! Dear me! I feel like knocking my head against the wall!" She threw herself upon the sofa and pressed her face against its fir-scented cushions.

Presently soft footsteps were heard. A lady entered the room, and glancing from the discarded crutch to the couch, crossed the floor and placed her hand caressingly on the curly mop of hair.

"Are you asleep, Ivy?" she inquired gently.

"No, mamma, just thinking."

"Is there anything I can do? Here is a cool drink."

"No, thank you--yes, I guess I will, I am rather thirsty!" She sat up and eagerly drank the lemonade.

"Were the children naughty? I thought they might amuse you for a while--"

"They were simply diabolical--but just on a par with all the rest! The girls gone to enjoy themselves--and that hateful Hugh running away every day as though afraid I might encroach on his valuable time--and--"

"Hugh? Why, what has he done?"

"He's not been the same since that day we went blackberrying."

"'We have pleasant words for the stranger,
And smiles for the sometimes guest;
But for our own the bitter tone
Though we love our own the best,'"

quoted Mrs. Bonner. "I'm afraid that's your way with Hugh, sometimes, Ivy, and as for the girls leaving you alone, you almost ran them out of the house!"

"They might as least have called in on their way home!"

"Have they gone past?"

"I haven't seen them, but they were to be back about half past four and see, it's nearly six--Ah, here they are now!"

The girls came bustling in.

"All the way from China!" cried Laura breathlessly.

Ivy listened to their adventures with glowing eyes.

"So the buccaneers took you captive for ransom and carried you across the ocean; but a gallant ship, flying the American colors and commanded by a brave knight, came to your relief, swept the pirate fleet from off the sea and brought you away, leaving the waves red with gore!"

"And here we are with all our valuables intact, even to this little vase of purest amethyst," said Alene, handing Ivy the blue glass goblet, while Laura gave a package to Mrs. Bonner, saying impressively:

"And these tumblers of priceless glittering crystal are yours, dear madame; here's your change--fifteen cents--they only cost a nickle apiece."

This called forth a chorus of mirthful exclamations, in the midst of which two little figures came quietly in. Emboldened by Ivy's smiling countenance, they stole to her side and displayed a collection of bright pebbles which they had picked up from the flat, tar-coated roof of the foundry, which, being built against a hill, was easily reached from the upper street.

"We gathered them for you," said Nettie shyly.

"Oh, girls, while you were in China, these tots journeyed to the sea-shore in search of treasure, and I'm the Princess Lazybones who sits at home, and receives her subjects' peace-offerings."

"There, Alene has forgotten something," said Mrs. Bonner, picking up a small bundle from the table. Laura reached for it, intending to overtake Alene who had gone away a few minutes before, but a glance showed that it was marked in pencil, "For Laura," in Alene's handwriting.

"For me, and she didn't buy a single thing for herself," grumbled Laura, untying the cord. "Isn't it just too sweet!" She held up a dish of pale pink glass with a knot of blue forget-me-nots in the corner.

"It's beautiful!" exclaimed Ivy. "I was just going to say that somebody else forgot to buy a single thing for herself, but I see Alene didn't forget her!"

"That little sly piece, and I never noticed her at it!" Laura said, secretly hoping that a certain quaint amber-colored bowl which she had deftly tucked away among Alene's purchases would prove as pleasant a surprise to Alene.

Hugh, coming in to supper just before Laura went home, peeped into the room in time to hear Ivy's laughing remark,

"We should confer upon Sir Mark the title of 'Rescuer-in-Chief to the Happy-Go-Luckys!'"

Hugh, with a hasty nod to the girls, turned away.

"Don't be in such a hurry, Hugh! I've just been telling Ivy how thrilling it was, when just in our moment of despair, Mark Griffin appeared--"

"Like the hero on a stage," interrupted Hugh.

"No, in a skiff," corrected Laura.

"I've no time for rhapsodies now," said Hugh curtly. He turned away with Ivy's voice, "Hear! Hear!" ringing mockingly on the air.

* * * * * *

Through the open window came the sound of children's voices,

"Here comes an old woman from New Foundland.
With all of her children in her hand,"

shrill and clamoring, but powerless to disturb Ivy who, seated beside the window with her blue goblet beside her and a pad of writing paper on her lap, was busy writing.

After a series of brow puckerings and erasures, she gave a sigh of contentment.

"There it's finished! I'll read it over and put it in the Sunset Book to-morrow!"

The old woman from New Foundland had gone home to bed, and Claude, one of her shrill-voiced children, had rushed in sleepily and thrown himself upon the rug, where he lay oblivious to all things, when the absent-minded Ivy came out of her trance; the first thing she saw was his chubby, outstretched form with both arms flung above the touzled head from which his cap had partly fallen.

The smile of sisterly love and pride with which she enveloped him, must have pierced the vale of unconsciousness, for the lad stirred and smiled in his sleep.

Ivy took the goblet and poured the pebbles into her lap. They fell against one another with a velvety sound, and gave forth a rainbow of color, like precious stones in the light of the lamp.

She mused happily over them, the children's treasures, gathered so carefully and given so generously.

"How cross I was to-day and all for nothing! I must be one of those 'hirelings' who are always 'looking for consolations' for I feel consoled to-night; if only Hugh--"

A noise was heard in the little entry; footsteps and voices, and then a pushing as of something being moved up the steps.

"What's that? It's Hugh's voice and there's someone with him!"

Ivy glanced expectantly toward the open doorway. Presently Hugh and another boy, their faces reddened with exertion, appeared carrying some object between them. Could it be--yes, it was a writing desk, such as Ivy had often seen in dreams and store windows, but never hoped to possess! Her heart gave a sudden jump and then seemed to stand still.

"Bub, be careful you don't scrape it against the side of the door! Hello, sis--where's the best place to put it?"

Hugh tried to speak in a careless tone, but Ivy's scream of pleasure, the sudden crimson roses that bloomed in her thin cheeks, and the shower of stars which flashed through and dried the mist in her eyes, brought a funny grip to his throat; he gulped and made a wry face.

"Say, Fatty, look out! You knocked my hand against the wall!"

Attracted by the noise, Mrs. Bonner came in, Claude awoke and everybody crowded round to see the new article of furniture.

It was placed where Ivy could admire it at leisure, and the strange boy having said good-night, Hugh displayed a lovely bronze key, unlocked the lid and disclosed all its attractions.

"See this little drawer and the shelves, and the place for your ink and paper, and the large drawer below, and then there's a secret drawer I'll show you when the rest are not here," Hugh whispered the latter part.

A secret drawer! Ivy clapped her hands--what a heavenly culmination of attractions! And the desk as a whole, of quartered-oak with bronzed handles and a shelf with a tiny mirror above, was indeed a beauty.

"Oh, Hugh, how--where did you get it?"

"I've been working overtime nights at Pearson's furniture store. The old man's sick and his son had to stay home evenings. I bargained to stay in his place and take it out this way! I kind of thought you'd like it," Hugh explained breathlessly, glancing from his auditors to the desk.

"Oh, Hugh!" cried Ivy deprecatingly.

"It was dead easy! Hardest part was to keep it quiet so to surprise you. It wouldn't do to get too friendly or I'd a blurted it out!"

Hugh's head was bending over the desk, dangerously close to Ivy as it proved, for she gave his hair a sudden pull.

"Oh, Hugh, you good-for-nothing!" she cried.