The Carter Girls' Mysterious Neighbors. Speed Nell

in the Orient and many were the teakwood cabinets and jade ornaments; curious Japanese prints; Chinese embroidered fans and screens; bronze Buddhas; rare vases with inlaid flowers and birds; Toby jugs and lacquered teapots; quaint armor, swords and daggers; everything in fact that might be found in an old house that a traveler had once called home.

      “Does Tempy dust all these beautiful things?” asked Mrs. Carter, who was quite carried away by the wonders in her landladies’ home.

      “Bless you, no! She doesn’t dare to touch a one of them,” laughed Miss Louise. “Ella dusts the high ones, I dust the low.” She said it quite with the air of the song:

      “You take the high road,

      I’ll take the low.”

      With all of its beauties, Grantly was undergoing a process of slow decay. Lack of paint and neglected leaks were getting in their insidious work. There never seemed to be money enough for the owners to afford the needed repairs, and if there ever was any money at all, they could never come to an agreement on which repairs were the most urgent.

      The overseer’s house was suffering in the same way. A kind of dry rot had attacked portions of it. Weather-boarding was so loose in places that Bobby could pull it off. Steps groaned and floors creaked; shutters had lost fastenings; putty had dropped from the window panes, which were insecurely held in place with tacks; mop-boarding and floors had parted company many years before. All of these little details had escaped the inexperienced eyes of Douglas and Helen when they decided that this was the place of all others to spend the winter. Dr. Wright, who had accompanied them, had been more noticing, but had wisely decided to say nothing, as he wanted his patient to become interested in tinkering at small jobs, and he could see that this little farm would keep Mr. Carter busy.

      The ladies of Grantly had promised to have everything in order before the tenants should arrive, but disagreeing on which workman they should employ, the time had slipped by and nothing had been done.

      The pump to the well had lost its sucker and had to be primed before water could be got. This meant that the person who pumped must remember to fill a can of water and leave it for the next pumper. The yard gate shut with difficulty and opened with more. The stovepipe in the kitchen had a large hole in one side and if the wind shifted, so did the smoke, seeking an outlet through the nearest aperture.

      All of these disagreeable features dawned gradually on our girls. They saw nothing to be complained of in those rare October days. Accustomed as they had become to camp life, they made light of any inconveniences. Their father was happy and getting better every day, so any small hardships that might fall to their share were to be lightly borne.

      CHAPTER V

      VALHALLA

      That was the name Nan gave to the little winter home.

      “Valhalla is the place where the dead warriors go, and that is what we all of us are after the day’s work is done.”

      Commuting at first was very tiring for both Nan and Lucy. Catching trains was hard on their nerves and the trip seemed interminable, but in a few weeks they fell into the attitude of mind of all commuters and just accepted it as part of the daily routine. It became no more irksome than doing one’s hair or brushing one’s teeth.

      The girls made many friends on the train and before the winter was over really enjoyed the time spent going to and from school. Billy Sutton was Nan’s devoted cavalier. He managed, if possible, to sit by her and together they would study. He helped her with her mathematics, and she, quick at languages, would correct his French exercises. Those were sad mornings for Billy when the seat by Nan was taken before they reached Preston. He cursed his luck that Preston should not have been beyond Grantly instead of a station nearer to town. Coming home he always saw to it that no “fresh kid” got ahead of him in the choice of seats. He would get to the station ahead of time and watch with eagle eye for Nan’s sedate little figure; then he would pounce on her like a veritable eagle and possess himself of her books and parcels. Thereafter no power could have separated him from her short of the brakeman who cruelly called out: “P-errr-reston!”

      Billy’s younger sister Mag was of great assistance to her big brother in his manœuvres. She struck up a warm friendship with Lucy, and since the two younger girls were together, what more natural than that he and Nan should be the same?

      “How would you like me to run you over to see Lucy for a while this afternoon?” he would ask in the lordly and nonchalant manner of big brothers, and Mag would be duly grateful, all the time laughing in her sleeve, as is the way with small sisters.

      The only person who ever got ahead of Billy on the homeward voyage was Count de Lestis. That man of the world with lordly condescension permitted Billy to carry all the books and parcels and then quietly appropriated the seat by Nan. That was hard enough, but what was harder was to see how Nan dimpled under the compliments the count paid her, and how gaily she laughed at his wit, and how easily she held her own in the very interesting conversation into which they plunged. Billy, boiling and raging, could not help catching bits of it. Actually Nan was quoting poetry to the handsome foreigner. With wonder her schoolboy friend heard her telling the count of how she had gone up in an aeroplane the preceding summer and what her sensations were. She had never told him all these things.

      “And why is it you like so much to fly?” the count asked. “Is it merely the physical sensation?”

      “Oh no, there is something else. I’ll tell you a little bit of poetry I learned the other day from a magazine. That is the way I feel, somehow:

      “‘Well, good-by! We’re going!

      Where?

      Why there is no knowing

      Where!

      We’ve grown tired, we don’t know why,

      Of our section of the sky,

      Of our little patch of air,

      And we’re going, going!

      Where?

      “‘Who would ever stop to care? —

      Far off land or farther sea

      Where our feet again are free,

      We shall fare all unafraid

      Where no trail or furrow’s made —

      Where there’s room enough, room enough, room enough for laughter!

      And we’ll find our Land o’ Dreaming at a long day’s close,

      We’ll find our Land o’ Dreaming – perhaps, who knows?

      To-morrow – or the next day – or maybe the day after!

      “‘So good-by! We’re going!

      Why?

      O, there is no knowing

      Why!

      Something’s singing in our veins,

      Something that no book explains.

      There’s no magic in your air!

      And we’re going, going!

      Where?

      “‘Where there’s magic and to spare!

      So we break our chains and go.

      Life? What is it but to know

      Southern cross and Pleiades,

      Sunny lands and windy seas;

      Where there’s time enough, time enough, time enough for laughter!

      We’ll find our Land o’ Dreaming, so away! Away!

      We’ll find our Land o’ Dreaming – or at least we may —

      Tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe the day after!’”

      Nan Carter was a very charming girl at any time, but Nan Carter reciting poetry was irresistible. So the count found her. Her eyes looked more like forest pools than ever and the trembling Billy was very much afraid the handsome nobleman was going to fall into said pools.