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Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work
CHAPTER XIII
THE BOOMERANG
The lawn fjte was a tremendous success, and every farmer's wife was proud of her satin badge bearing the monogram: "W. P. L.," and the words: "FORBES FOR REPRESENTATIVE."
Certain edibles, such as charlotte-russe, Spanish cream, wine jellies and mousses, to say nothing of the caviars and anchovies, were wholly unknown to them; but they ate the dainties with a wise disregard of their inexperience and enjoyed them immensely.
The old butler was a general in his way, and in view of the fact that the staff of servants at Elmhurst was insufficient to cope with such a throng, he allowed Louise to impress several farmers' daughters into service, and was able to feed everyone without delay and in an abundant and satisfactory manner.
After luncheon began the speech-making, interspersed with music by the band.
Louise made the preliminary address, and, although her voice was not very strong, the silent attention of her hearers permitted her to be generally understood.
She called attention to the fact that this campaign was important because it promised more beautiful and attractive houses for the farmers and townsmen alike.
"We had all grown so accustomed to advertising signs," she said, "that we failed to notice how thick they were becoming or how bold and overpowering. From a few scattered announcements on fence boards, they had crowded themselves into more prominent places until the barns and sheds and the very rocks were daubed with glaring letters asking us to buy the medicines, soaps, tobaccos, and other wares the manufacturers were anxious to sell. Every country road became an advertising avenue. Scarcely a country house was free from signs of some sort. Yet the people tamely submitted to this imposition because they knew no way to avoid it. When Mr. Forbes began his campaign to restore the homesteads to their former beauty and dignity, a cry was raised against him. But this was because the farmers did not understand how much this reform meant to them. So we gave them an object lesson. We painted out all the signs in this section at our own expense, that you might see how much more beautiful your homes are without them. We believe that none of you will ever care to allow advertising signs on your property again, and that the quiet refinement of this part of the country will induce many other places to follow our example, until advertisers are forced to confine themselves to newspapers, magazines and circulars, their only legitimate channels. This much Mr. Forbes has already done for you, and he will now tell you what else, if he is elected, he proposes to do."
Kenneth then took the platform and was welcomed with a hearty cheer. He modestly assured them that a Representative in the State Legislature could accomplish much good for his district if he honestly desired to do so. That was what a Representative was for – to represent his people. It was folly to elect any man who would forget that duty and promote only his own interests through the position of power to which the people had appointed him. Mr. Forbes admitted that he had undertaken this campaign because he was opposed to offensive advertising signs; but now he had become interested in other issues, and was anxious to be elected so that he could carry on the work of reform. They needed more school-houses for their children, and many other things which he hoped to provide as their Representative.
During this oration Beth happened to glance up at the house, and her sharp eyes detected the maid, Eliza, standing shielded behind the half-closed blind of an upper window and listening to, as well as watching, the proceedings below. Then she remembered how the girl had been laughing and talking with Mr. Hopkins, when she first saw her, and with sudden dismay realized that Eliza was a spy in the service of the enemy.
Her first impulse was to denounce the maid at once, and have her discharged; but the time was not opportune, so she waited until the festivities were ended.
It had been a great day for the families of the neighboring farmers, and they drove homeward in the late afternoon full of enthusiasm over the royal manner in which they had been entertained and admiration for the girls who had provided the fun and feasting. Indeed, there were more kindly thoughts expressed for the inhabitants of Elmhurst than had ever before been heard in a single day in the history of the county, and the great and the humble seemed more closely drawn together.
When the last guest had departed Beth got her cousins and Kenneth together and told them of her discovery of the spy.
Kenneth was at first greatly annoyed, and proposed to call Martha and have the false maid ejected from the premises; but Patsy's wise little head counselled caution in handling the matter.
"Now that we know her secret," she said, "the girl cannot cause us more real harm, and there may be a way to circumvent this unscrupulous Hopkins and turn the incident to our own advantage. Let's think it over carefully before we act."
"There's another thing," said Beth, supporting her cousin. "I'm interested in the mystery surrounding the girl. I now think I was wrong in suspecting her to be the lost Lucy Rogers; but there is surely some romance connected with her, and she is not what she seems to be. I'd like to study her a little."
"It was absurd to connect her with Lucy Rogers," observed Kenneth, "for there is nothing in her character to remind one of the unhappy girl."
"Except her looks," added Beth. "She's the living image of Mrs. Rogers."
"That isn't important," replied Louise. "It is probably a mere coincidence. None of us have ever seen the real Lucy, and she may not resemble her mother at all."
"Mrs. Rogers claims she does," said Beth. "But anyhow, I have a wish to keep this girl at the house, where I can study her character."
"Then keep her, my dear," decided Kenneth. "I'll set a couple of men to watch the gates, and if she goes out we'll know whom she meets. The most she can do is to report our movements to Mr. Hopkins, and there's no great harm in that."
So the matter was left, for the time; and as if to verify Beth's suspicions Eliza was seen to leave the grounds after dusk and meet Mr. Hopkins in the lane. They conversed together a few moments, and then the maid calmly returned and went to her room.
The next day Mr. Hopkins scattered flaring hand-bills over the district which were worded in a way designed to offset any advantage his opponent had gained from the lawn fjte of the previous day. They read: "Hopkins, the Man of the Times, is the Champion of the Signs of the Times. Forbes, who never earned a dollar in his life, but inherited his money, is trying to take the dollars out of the pockets of the farmers by depriving them of the income derived by selling spaces for advertising signs. He is robbing the farmers while claiming he wants to beautify their homes. The farmers can't eat beauty; they want money. Therefore they are going to vote for the Honorable Erastus Hopkins for Representative." Then followed an estimate of the money paid the farmers of the district by the advertisers during the past five years, amounting to several thousands of dollars in the aggregate. The circular ended in this way: "Hopkins challenges Forbes to deny these facts. Hopkins is willing to meet Forbes before the public at any time and place he may select, to settle this argument in joint debate."
The girls accepted the challenge at once. Within two days every farmer had received a notice that Mr. Forbes would meet Mr. Hopkins at the Fairview Opera House on Saturday afternoon to debate the question as to whether advertising signs brought good or evil to the community.
The campaign was now getting hot. Because of the activity of the opposing candidates every voter in the district had become more or less interested in the fight, and people were taking one side or the other with unusual earnestness.
Mr. Hopkins was not greatly pleased that his challenge had been accepted. He had imagined that the Forbes party would ignore it and leave him the prestige of crowing over his opponent's timidity. But he remembered how easily he had subdued Kenneth at the school-house meeting before the nominations, and had no doubt of his ability to repeat the operation.
He was much incensed against the girls who were working for Kenneth Forbes, for he realized that they were proving an important factor in the campaign. He even attributed to them more than they deserved, for Uncle John's telling activities were so quietly conducted that he was personally lost sight of entirely by Mr. Hopkins.
Mr. Hopkins had therefore become so enraged that, against the advice of his friends, he issued a circular sneering at "Women in Politics." The newspapers having been subsidized by the opposition so early in the game, Mr. Hopkins had driven to employ the circular method of communicating with the voters. Scarcely a day passed now that his corps of distributors did not leave some of his literature at every dwelling in the district.
His tirade against the girls was neither convincing nor in good taste. He asked the voters if they were willing to submit to "petticoat government," and permit a "lot of boarding-school girls, with more boldness than modesty" to dictate the policies of the community. "These frizzle-headed females," continued the circular, "are trying to make your wives and daughters as rebellious and unreasonable as they are themselves; but no man of sense will permit a woman to influence his vote. It is a disgrace to this district that Mr. Forbes allows his girlish campaign to be run by a lot of misses who should be at home darning stockings; or, if they were not able to do that, practicing their music-lessons."
"Good!" exclaimed shrewd Miss Patsy, when she read this circular. "If I'm not much mistaken, Mr. Hopkins has thrown a boomerang. Every woman who attended the fjte is now linked with us as an ally, and every one of them will resent this foolish circular."
"I'm sorry," said Kenneth, "that you girls should be forced to endure this. I feared something like it when you insisted on taking a hand in the game."
But they laughed at him and at Mr. Hopkins, and declared they were not at all offended.
"One cannot touch pitch without being defiled," said Mr. Watson, gravely, "and politics, as Mr. Hopkins knows it, is little more than pitch."
"I cannot see that there is anything my girls have done to forfeit respect and admiration," asserted Uncle John, stoutly. "To accuse them of boldness or immodesty is absurd. They have merely gone to work in a business-like manner and used their wits and common-sense in educating the voters. Really, my dears, I'm more proud of you today than I've ever been before," he concluded.
And Uncle John was right. There had been no loss of dignity by any one of the three, and their evident refinement, as well as their gentleness and good humor, had until now protected them from any reproach. It had remained for Mr. Hopkins to accuse them, and his circular had a wide influence in determining the issue of the campaign.
CHAPTER XIV
LUCY'S GHOST
Kenneth had sent word to Tom Gates, asking the young man to come to Elmhurst, but it was not until two days after the lawn party that Tom appeared and asked permission to see Mr. Forbes.
Beth and Louise were with Kenneth at the time, and were eager to remain during the interview, so the young man was shown into the library.
Beth could scarcely recognize in him the calm and cheerful Tom Gates they had visited in the county jail; for his face was drawn with care and anxiety, eyes were bloodshot, and his former neat appearance was changed to one careless and untidy.
Kenneth scrutinized him closely.
"What have you been up to, Tom?" he asked.
"I've been searching for Lucy, sir, night and day. I haven't slept a wink since I heard the awful news of her sickness and escape. Where do you think she can be, sir?"
His question was full of agonized entreaty, and his manner pitifully appealing.
"I don't know," answered Kenneth. "Where have you searched?"
"Everywhere, sir, that she might be likely to go. I've inquired in every town, and along every road leading out of the county. She didn't take a train, because poor Lucy hadn't any money – and I've asked at all the stations. And – and – along the river they say no girl answering her description has been seen."
"It's strange," remarked Kenneth, thoughtfully, while the girls regarded the youth with silent sympathy.
"If you knew Lucy, sir, you'd realize how strange it is," went on young Gates, earnestly. "She was such a gentle, shrinking girl, as shy and retiring as a child. And she never did a thing that would cause anyone the least worry or unhappiness. But she was out of her head, sir, and didn't know what she was about. That was the reason she went away. And from the moment she left her home all trace of her was lost."
"One would think," observed Kenneth, "that a poor, demented girl, wandering about the country, would be noticed by scores of people. Did she take any clothing with her?"
"Only the dress she had on, sir, and not even a hat or a shawl."
"What was her dress like?" asked Beth, quickly.
"It was a light grey in color, and plainly made. She wore a white collar, but that is all we can be certain she had on. You see her mother is blind, and old Will doesn't observe very closely."
"Does Lucy resemble her mother?" inquired Beth.
"Very much, miss. She was a beautiful girl, everyone acknowledged. And it's all my fault – all my fault. I thought to save her, and drove her mad, instead!"
"You might have known that," declared Kenneth. "A girl of her character, sensitive to a fault, would be greatly shocked to find the man she loved a criminal."
"It was for her sake."
"That is a poor excuse. If you had waited Lucy would have proved her innocence."
"They threatened to arrest her, sir. It would have killed her."
"They wouldn't dare arrest her on suspicion."
"The Squierses would dare do anything. You don't know old Mrs. Squiers."
"I know the law, sir, and in any event it was a foolish thing, as well as criminal, to forge a check to get the money they demanded."
"You are right, sir," replied Tom Gates, despondently. "It was foolish and criminal. I wouldn't mind my own punishment, but it drove my Lucy mad."
"See here," said Kenneth, sternly, "you are getting morbid, young man, and pretty soon you'll be mad yourself. If Lucy is found do you want her to see you in this condition?"
"Can she be found, sir, do you think?"
"We are trying to find her," replied Kenneth. "You have failed, it seems, and Will Rogers had failed. I've had one of the cleverest detectives of Chicago trying to find her for the last three days."
"Oh, Kenneth!" exclaimed Beth. "I didn't know that. How good of you!"
"It must have been the detective that came to see Mrs. Rogers," said Tom, musingly. "She told me a strange man had been there from Mr. Forbes, to inquire all about Lucy."
"Yes; he makes a report to me every evening," remarked Kenneth; "and Mr. Burke says this is the most mystifying case he has ever encountered. So far there isn't a clew to follow. But you may rest assured that what any man can do, Burke will do."
"I'm so grateful, sir!" said Tom.
"Then you must show it by being a man, and not by giving way to your trouble in this foolish manner."
"I'll try, sir, now that there's something to hope for."
"There's a good deal to hope for. Despair won't help you. You must go to work."
"I will. It won't be very easy to get work, for I've disgraced myself in this neighborhood, and I can't leave here till something is known of Lucy's fate. But I'll do something – any kind of work – if I can get it."
"I need someone to assist me in my correspondence," said Kenneth. "Would you like to be my secretary?"
"Me, Mr. Forbes – me!"
"Yes, Tom. I'll pay you twenty dollars a week to start with, and more if you serve me faithfully. And you'll board here, of course."
Then Tom Gates broke down and began to cry like a child, although he tried hard to control himself.
"You – you must forgive me, Mr. Forbes," he said, penitently; "I – I've been without sleep for so long that I haven't any nerves left."
"Then you must go to sleep now, and get a good rest." He turned to Beth. "Will you see Martha," he asked, "and have her give Tom Gates a room?"
She went on her errand at once, and gradually the young man recovered his composure.
"I can do typewriting and stenography, Mr. Forbes," he said, "and I can keep accounts. I'll serve you faithfully, sir."
"We'll talk of all this by and by, Tom," replied Kenneth, kindly. "Just now you must have some sleep and get your strength back. And don't worry about Lucy. Burke will do everything that can be done, and I am confident he will be able to trace the girl in time."
"Thank you, sir."
Then he followed the butler away to his room, and after the girls had discussed him and expressed their sympathy for the unfortunate fellow, they all turned their attention to the important matter of the campaign. The debate with Hopkins was the thing that occupied them just now, and when Patsy joined the group of workers they began to discuss some means of scoring a decisive victory at the Fairview Opera House. The Honorable Erastus still insisted upon making the anti-sign fight the prominent issue of the campaign, and they must reply forcibly to the misleading statements made in his last hand-bill.
Meantime Tom Gates was sunk in the deep sleep of physical exhaustion, and the day wore away before he wakened. When at last he regained consciousness he found the sun sinking in the west and feared he had been guilty of indiscretion. He remembered that he was Mr. Forbes's secretary now, and that Mr. Forbes might want him. He was not yet thoroughly rested, but night was approaching and he reflected that he could obtain all the sleep that he needed then.
So, greatly refreshed, and in a quieter mood than he had been for days, the young man dressed and entered the hall to find his way downstairs.
It happened that Beth, whose room was near this rear corridor, had just gone there to dress for dinner, and as she was closing her door she heard a wild, impassioned cry:
"Lucy!"
Quickly she sprang out into the hall and turned the corner in time to see a strange tableau.
Young Gates was standing with his arms outstretched toward Eliza Parsons, who, a few paces away, had her back to the door of her own chamber, from which she had evidently just stepped. She stood motionless, looking curiously at the youth who confronted her.
"Lucy! don't you know me?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion.
"To begin with," said the girl, composedly, "my name happens to be Eliza. And as we've not been properly introduced I really don't see why I should know you," she added, with a light laugh.
Tom Gates shrank away from her as if he had been struck.
"You can't be Lucy!" he murmured. "And yet – and yet – oh, you must be Lucy! You must know me! Look at me, dear – I'm Tom. I'm your own Tom, Lucy!"
"It's very gratifying, I'm sure, young man," said the girl, a touch of scorn in her tones. "If you're my own Tom you'll perhaps stand out of my way and let me go to my work."
Without another word he backed up again; the wall and permitted her to sweep by him, which she did with a gesture of disdain.
When Eliza Parsons had disappeared down the back stairs Beth drew a long breath and approached Tom Gates, who still stood by the wall staring at the place where the girl had disappeared.
"I overheard," said Beth. "Tell me, Tom, is she really like Lucy?"
He looked at her with a dazed expression, as if he scarcely comprehended her words.
"Could you have been mistaken?" persisted the questioner.
He passed his hand over his eyes and gave a shudder.
"Either it was Lucy or her ghost," he muttered.
"Eliza Parsons is no ghost," declared Beth. "She's one of the maids here at Elmhurst, and you're quite likely to see her again."
"Has she been here long?" he asked, eagerly.
"No; only a few days."
"Oh!"
"When I first saw her I was struck by her resemblance to Mrs. Rogers," continued the girl.
"But she's so different," said Tom, choking back a sob. "Lucy couldn't be so – so airy, so heartless. She isn't at all that style of a girl, miss."
"She may be acting," suggested Beth.
But he shook his head gloomily.
"No; Lucy couldn't act that way. She's quick and impulsive, but she – she couldn't act. And she wouldn't treat me that way, either, Miss Beth. Lucy and I have been sweethearts for years, and I know every expression of her dear face. But the look that this girl gave me was one that my Lucy never could assume. I must have been mistaken. I – I'm sure I was mistaken."
Beth sighed. She was disappointed.
"I suppose," continued Tom, "that I've thought of Lucy so long and so much, lately, and worried so over her disappearance, that I'm not quite myself, and imagined this girl was more like her than she really is. What did you say her name was?"
"Eliza Parsons."
"Thank you. Can you tell me where I'll find Mr. Forbes?"
"He's getting ready for dinner, now, and won't need you at present."
"Then I'll go back to my room. It – it was a great shock to me, that likeness, Miss DeGraf."
"I can well believe it," said Beth; and then she went to her own apartment, greatly puzzled at a resemblance so strong that it had even deceived Lucy Rogers's own sweetheart.
