Ann Crosses a Secret Trail Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  WHISK!--NEW ENGLAND AGAIN

  How differently Ann felt this time as she approached the now dear homeof her Grandmother on her trip from the West, no one but Ann herselfcould have told. Then, the mystery of her Grandmother’s attitude towardher mother was to be solved; now, her mother and grandmother were withher, peacefully talking of their plan to go South after Christmas, hermother showing nothing of any strong feeling which may have at timespossessed her when she thought of it all. Then, Ann was wondering whowould meet her, how her aunt’s family would regard her; now, she wasreturning and would count upon a warm welcome from Roy and Madge,Maurice, Suzanne, and perhaps her Uncle Tyson, though she was not surebut he might consider her responsible for any new attitude of hergrandmother in respect to finances. Uncle Tyson was next to the throne,thought Ann, the throne as expressed in Aunt Sue.

  Ann was eager to have her mother once inside of the old home andwatched her lovingly from time to time.

  “No,” her grandmother was saying, “I was not interested in Sue’s planto go abroad. I do not want to go myself, and I did not feel likesacrificing myself this time, probably financing the whole thing. Itwill be much better to have a Christmas reunion here, if William cancome on from Montana, as we hope; then we can spend the rest of theseason in Florida. I have not been there for years.”

  Ann wondered who would go, the older folks, of course, with, perhaps,Madge and Roy.

  “What do you think of the place?” asked Madam LeRoy, as the chauffeurdrove them into the drive.

  “Beautiful,” said Mrs. Sterling, a smile on her face, as she lookedat the familiar grounds, changed a little, to be sure, but the same,with the great trees, the old lilac and syringa bushes, the flowerbeds in much the same places. “There is more shrubbery and some of theyoung trees have grown into large ones,” Mrs. Sterling continued. “Butthere is the old arbor,--oh, it is good to see it again, Mother!” Mrs.Sterling’s eyes filled as she looked, and without apology she drew outher dainty handkerchief to wipe them.

  Madam LeRoy looked at her daughter with some tenderness. “All thisabsence and misunderstanding was needless. I hope that I may rememberthat, to keep me strong enough in dealing with Sue.” This she said in alow tone, not to be overheard by the chauffeur.

  Mrs. Tyson had had the good taste not to go to the station to meetthem, nor was she outside, nor in the hall. A beaming Munson was atthe door with a man and a maid or two to take the luggage and ordersfrom the travelers. “Mrs. Tyson was called to the village, Madam,” saidMunson, “on a matter of business. She left her apologies and said thatshe would be back before dinner.”

  “Thank you. You may send Rose to me, please. I left Nancy at herfriend’s in the village. Attend to her baggage, also, and did you seeto engaging a maid for Mrs. Sterling?”

  So Grandmother was going to have a maid for Mother, too! Would wondersnever cease! Ann looked on with interest, while the butler indicatedone of the maids at hand as the one recently engaged for Mrs. Sterling.If Mrs. Sterling were as surprised as Ann, she did not show it, andafter all, it is not so difficult to fall into ways to which you haveonce been accustomed.

  Everything was done in a matter of fact way, quiet, rather formal, yetAnn was conscious of a new feeling and atmosphere, of approval in theglances directed toward her pretty mother, so sweet, so dear, as Annthought. Then there came an interruption. Roy, unabashed, slid straightdown the stairs upon the “sacred bannister,” as Ann said afterward.

  “Hello, Gramma! Awful glad to see you back. It’s been a terribly longtime,--and Ann, I howled and yelled when I found out that they had goneand started for Montana without me! Old Maurice, too!”

  Ann wondered if Roy were in for a rebuke from Madam LeRoy, but none wasforthcoming. She bent over the little boy to kiss him. “Glad to see‘Gramma’ back, are you, dear? Well, that is good. Gramma is glad to seeyou, too. And I have a real wild West suit for you in my trunk.”

  “Oh, goody! You’re a good sport, Gramma,” he added, to the horrorof Munson. But Madam LeRoy only laughed. “As soon as the trunks arebrought up, Roy, come to my room. I have to rest and get ready fordinner now.”

  “All right. I’ll watch for the trunks.”

  Rose, who had given Ann a welcoming smile, in remembrance of one tryingday when she had served Ann to a lunch, eaten in worried loneliness, sofar as the family was concerned, respectfully followed the travelersupstairs and showed Mrs. Sterling, with her new maid, the room that wasto be hers. It was next to Ann’s, who was told that her mother’s maidwould also serve her. “I’ll not be much bother to you, Adeline,” saidAnn. “Take good care of Mother, for she is worn out.”

  This was luxury. Her own room, her own bath, a maid when she neededone,--and Mother next door! “I wonder,” thought Ann, “if it is theroom she used to have.” It was, as Ann found a little later.

  Suzanne was away with Madeline for a week end visit in Boston, itseemed. Maurice had driven his mother to the village. Madge, thinnerthan ever, and much taller, waited for Ann, sitting outside her door,as Ann found when she started out after dressing. “Why, Madge, dearchild! Why didn’t you knock?”

  “I promised I wouldn’t. But I was going to be right here, just thesame!”

  Ann embraced the child and accompanied her, down the stairs and outto the lawn, where they wandered around the walks a little while,Madge picking a few flowers for Ann. “You have grown so, Madge,” saidthe surprised Ann. “I have not seen you, though, for almost a year. Imissed seeing you at the spring vacation.”

  “Yes; why didn’t you stay, then, Ann? Miss White said that she saw youwhen you were leaving. Was it because Grandmother wasn’t here? Don’tyou care for the rest of us? I asked Mother about your coming, andshe wouldn’t tell. ‘Run along, Madge, and be a good girl,’ she said.And then they went out to your ranch and did not take us! But then,we ought to be used to that, I suppose. Mother does not like to bebothered with us.”

  All Madge’s grievances came out at once. Ann’s quick sympathy went outto the little girl who had so little real mothering.

  “There was a good reason for my not staying, Madge, that time I camefor such a short stay. Yes, I care a great deal for Grandmother, andthere was a reason why I had to see her, Madge; but I do care very muchfor you and Roy and I was sorry not to see you. Some day, Madge, I hopethat you may come with me out West and see our ranch and the lovelyplace in the mountains that my father gave me. But after all, it isnot good for little girls to travel so much. I could not when I was asyoung as you are.”

  “Couldn’t you? But then I think that your mother stayed with you,didn’t she?”

  “Yes. Mother and Father taught me my lessons.”

  Madge thought a little before she spoke. “Well, I’m rather glad thatMother does not teach me. I suppose that she knows a lot, but wecouldn’t tease her the way we tease Miss White and our other teachers.”

  “It doesn’t seem to me, Madge, that it is a very good thing to teaseyour governess. She can not teach you so much.”

  “Oh, it’s all so stupid anyhow. I learn more when I read in the librarythe things I want to read.”

  Ann said nothing to this, realizing that Madge’s teaching must be poorindeed, or Madge unusually hard to interest, if such were the case.

  As they walked along the hedge of shrubbery at the far side of thelawn, Mrs. Tyson’s small car, Maurice driving, came in and up to themanor. Maurice saw Ann, though she was at some distance from the drive,and saluted as he swept by. Mrs. Tyson looked out and bowed, as Mauricementioned the fact that Ann was there. “So they came,” she said.

  “As they telegraphed they would,” dryly remarked her son. He opened thedoor for his mother, assisted her out of the car and carried severalpackages up the steps, handing them to the butler. Then he rapidly leftthe verandah, crossed the lawn, and made his way to where Ann and hislittle sister were standing.

  “I would have met you, Ann, if Mother had not insisted on my drivingher to the bank. T
his is fine--having you here again.” It was acharming Maurice that met Ann without the familiarity that hadembarrassed her before, yet with a real warmth of feeling that Annenjoyed. He, at least, was glad to see her. Always clean and spotlessof attire, the fresh tints of youth were good to look upon in Maurice.This was not the Maurice it seemed, that said goodbye with such daringand impertinence upon the mountain heights!

  “We were well taken care of, Maurice. Yes, I am glad to be here again.I love this place, and it seems different now that Mother is here, too.”

  “I am glad that she is,” soberly said Maurice. “I want to getacquainted with my aunt Elizabeth. I see no reason why this should notbe a happy visit, do you, Ann?”

  Ann hesitated a moment. “Suppose that we try our best to make it so,Maurice?”

  “It is a bargain. Madge, will you be good, too?” Maurice rumpledMadge’s short locks with a brotherly hand.

  “Depends upon what you mean by being good. I find that the differentmembers of the family have different notions about that. If you mean bymy being good that I’m to let you and Ann visit, and go away, then I’mnot going to do it!”

  “Why Madge, do you think that your brother would be so impolite?”mockingly said Maurice. But he let Madge put her two arms through hisand lean on him, as they strolled along, and Ann liked him for it.

  “Do you remember that night when you and Ann and Roy and I playedGo-Bang and things?” inquired Madge.

  “_Do_ I? How could I forget it? Do you remember it, Ann?”

  “Yes, indeed,” laughingly said Ann. “There was a game of hide and seekon.”

  “Yes, and Maddy and Suzanne never found you either.”

  “No,” said Maurice. “But it would be safer if you would forget that,Madge.”

  Madge looked at Maurice with understanding, when she replied, “I’ll notmention it to the wrong people, Maury. But Suzanne is nicer than shewas. I don’t think that she is as crazy about Maddy, either.”

  “Is that so? Pretty good thing, then, don’t you think so?”

  “M-hm. Oh, bother,--there’s Miss White calling me!”

  Madge waited as long as she dared, then ran toward the house to joinher governess.

  “What have you been doing, Ann, since I saw you last?” asked Maurice.They had reached the little arbor among the evergreens by that timeand Maurice flicked away some leaves and twigs from the seat with hishandkerchief. “Sit down a bit, sweet cousin,--‘Gentle Hands,’ is it?”

  “So Never-Run called me; but you could hardly accuse that old Indian ofsentiment, could you?”

  “It is not misplaced this time,” said Maurice, sitting down beside Annand leaning back against the lattice, hands over his head. “Is that anew frock you have on?”

  “Same old one. I’ve had no time this summer to think of frocks.”

  “I don’t believe that you spend much time thinking of them anyhow.”

  “I wonder how I ought to take that, Maurice. A girl that doesn’t thinkof them at all is likely to be what the girls call ‘dowdy,’ and a girlthat thinks about them too much is usually frivolous.”

  “You are neither dowdy nor frivolous, Ann, and have so many good looksthat you need never worry.”

  “Thanks, kind cousin,” said Ann rather laconically, “this is so good ofyou! But what have you been doing yourself?”

  “You have not answered my question,” answered Maurice, “but I rathergot you off the subject by my remarks, so unresponsively received! Why,I finished up the camping trip, joined Mother, came home and have hungaround more or less ever since. Oh, yes, I went down to New York withRon on his yacht, but we were not gone long.”

  “That must have been fun. You mean Ronald Bentley?”

  “Yes, none other.”

  “I liked Ronald, as well as Jack Hudson; but ‘Beano’ Bates!”

  Maurice laughed. “Oh, Beano is a pretty good scout. He hasn’t a lot ofbrains, but he can spend his money.” Maurice looked teasingly at Ann.He had not known Ann this long without learning how to provoke her.

  “A noble thing to like him for!”

  “Your ideals, my dear cousin, are a wonderful thing in this world ofget and grab, but they won’t work in every day life, I am afraid.”

  “Mine have worked so far, Maury.”

  “But you have never had to dig for the simoleons.”

  “Have you, that you know so much?”

  “I can’t say that I have, and frankly, sweet Ann, I don’t want to.”

  Ann was a pretty picture as she sat looking at Maurice, thoughtfullyconsidering what he was saying.

  “I can see, Maurice, that it must be terribly hard not to have whatmakes one comfortable. And it would be awful to have somebody youlove working too hard, or not having the necessities, or even theopportunities! But I just know, Maury, inside of me, that it doesn’t dopeople any good to put so much stress on having a lot of money and--oh,‘slashing around,’ as Rita says, and trying to live at the top notch,better than anybody else.”

  “That is a fine theory, but how about yourself? Don’t you like prettyclothes and traveling and having fun with the girls at school?”

  “Yes. And that is one trouble here, Maurice. I’m afraid that I’ll getto liking to have a maid and not doing anything useful and wanting aspretty things as Suzanne has and getting lazy about school work andeverything.”

  “That last remark has no ‘pussonal’ application, has it, Ann?” Mauricewas looking at Ann with amusement.

  “I wasn’t thinking of anybody but myself in making it, Maurice. Butyou can’t believe how I hate to get to studying sometimes. Still, I’dhate to fall behind the rest, so I guess pride will keep me going thisyear, if nothing else does.”

  “Some have one sort of pride and some have another, Ann. If I ‘get by’at college, it’s enough for me. You haven’t any use for that kind of astudent, have you?”

  “I might be very _fond_ of one,” laughed Ann, “but I couldn’t admirethe attitude!”

  “Maybe I’ll turn over a new leaf this year, Ann, if I can, at thislate day. It _would_ be sort of a disgrace, wouldn’t it, if I found Icouldn’t get by?”

  “I’d be sorry for your father if you missed graduating.”

  “You wouldn’t care yourself, any?”

  “Certainly I would,” but Ann felt guilty at the thought of how littleinterest she had taken the previous year in what Maurice did. He was akind, agreeable cousin, in a family where she was having a hard time;that was all.

  “Ann, I have been wanting to apologize to you, ever since I came home,for the way I embarrassed you in saying goodbye. We boys had beenkidding each other about different things and were in wild spirits,more or less, and like an idiot I spoke impulsively, as usual, andspoiled it all. What are you smiling at?”

  “The ‘as usual.’ But Maurice, I think it good of you to explain. Itdid annoy me, more than you can imagine; but I concluded that you didnot mean to hurt me, for you have been lovely to me always. I haven’tbeen holding it against you.”

  “I don’t believe that you would hold it against me, Ann, but I wassorry,--not for what I said, but for the time and manner of it. And ‘asusual’ did not refer to a habit of proposing to girls, which is what Isuppose you smiled at?”

  “You are too much of a mind reader, Maury,” laughed Ann. “I told youthen that you were crazy, and I still think it a crazy idea, suggestedby your mother, perhaps, as you said,----”

  “Mother did not suggest it, Ann,” Maurice quickly interrupted Ann. “Itwas on the way out. I was expressing myself to Mother, in no uncertainterms, on visiting your mother and father at the ranch. I told her thatI would have nothing to do with it, and that after certain things thatI knew about had happened, she would show a good deal of ‘nerve’ towalk in on you there.

  “Mother was icy and cool, and told me what she thought of my opinion,and went on, as she does, about not deserting her dear mother, whoneeded her and all that! I may as well tell you, Ann, because you haveseen it.
Mother has her fine points, but when it comes to putting itover us children, as she used to, it simply can’t be done any more!”

  “Don’t, Maurice!” said Ann, her hand up to stop him, for well as sheknew what he said was true, she could not bear to have him say it. “Sheis your mother, at least.”

  “One thing that I like about you, Ann, is that you are so sincere. Ican’t imagine your deliberately trying to deceive me.”

  “Thank you, Maury. I never will.”

  “You might think that because we are her children we will try the samesort of thing. But some times it works the other way. Our Dad isn’thappy,--you can tell that. He has talked to me, Ann. I’m not much forhim to be proud of, but I’m square, Ann; and since I smashed that car Ihave tried to be easier on Dad.”

  Ann’s brows were knit as she listened. It was one thing to think whatshe thought of Aunt Sue and matters among the Tysons, and another thingto listen to Maurice tell about it. It jarred Ann’s feeling of fitness,if nothing else. Maurice went on.

  “Not that I’m trying to make myself out anything but an extravagantfellow. I like to have a good time all right. But I started to tellyou where you came into the conversation with Mother. When she startedtalking about Grandmother, I let her ‘rave on,’ and then I declaredwhat I thought where you were concerned, that you had just as muchright as the rest of us to have a share in Grandmother’s affectionsand money. It isn’t only the money, Ann, with Mother. She’s jealous.I don’t know what started it (Ann could have told him) but that isa fact. Then I said a few things about you and added that if youwere not my cousin I’d like to marry you some day. Mother took it uptoo quickly! She said that the relationship between us need make nodifference, and that she thought it an excellent idea. I wanted toclear up your notion that it was Mother’s first thought. Nobody canhelp loving you, Ann. Look at Clifford Hart and that Gordon man, andyou should have heard Jack go on about you. That is why I wanted to geta word in.”

  “Well, Maurice, if it is of any satisfaction to you to know it, I willsay,” laughed Ann, “that your amazing suggestion at the lodge was myfirst proposal!”

  “It will not be the last, and that is why I wanted your promise.”

  “So you said. But Maury, look here. It is going to be ages before I getout of school and finish what I am going to do. Why, Daddy and Motherthink that I am not anywhere near grown up yet. And I am going to beone of the world’s greatest pianists and have to study and play sixhours a day, after a while, and go abroad and everything!”

  “Go abroad with me after we are married. You can do the whole thingjust as well then. Let’s see. I finish this year. Then I’ll get myfather to give me some sort of an easy job. I’ll tell you; I’ll handlethe foreign end of it. That is the very thing!” Maurice slapped hishand upon his right knee with emphasis. “You will be through school, ifyou must finish it, in two years, though that is too long,--I mean intwo years after I am out of school. By that time, with a fat check fromGrandmother, we ought to get along.” Maurice looked at Ann with whatMadeline would have found an irresistible smile, as he leaned forward,in his earnestness, to take Ann’s hand.

  Ann patted her cousin’s hand with her free one, then withdrew both.“You are looking too far ahead, Maurice. Neither of us knows a thingabout real love. It is going to worry me too much to think about this._Please_, Maury, don’t!”

  Maurice straightened up and leaned back against the lattice again. “Nowisn’t she flattering? The prospect is so terrible that she begins tobeg for mercy!”

  “Not that, Maury,--oh, what shall I say to you!”

  Maurice saw that he was really distressing Ann and like the gentlemanthat he was he hastened to reassure her. “Well, Ann, if this reallyworries you, I will not talk about it. You understand what I think, atany rate. Think it over, but do _not_ let it spoil your good time. I’llnot remind you of it for some time,--unless some one of the boys getstoo deeply interested in you. I’m glad that you are going to a girls’school, anyhow.”

  “Meanwhile, you will find the _right_ girl, Maurice.”

  Maurice smiled. “We’ll go back to the old cousinly relation, if youlike,” said he, “but I claim all the privileges of affection.” Rising,he held out his hands to Ann, who put her own in them, letting him drawher to her feet. Then he took her arm lightly and led her along thewalks again, approaching the house. They talked of other things, butwhen Ann left Maurice at the foot of the stairs, he said. “Perhaps,after all, I’m not too closely related.”

  “The proverbial infant, changed in its cradle?” laughed Ann.

  “Something like that, perhaps.”

  Ann did not think that Maurice had any such idea, but still, when sheentered the drawing room and found no one but her mother present, sheasked, “Isn’t Maurice Aunt Sue’s son?”

  “Certainly.”

  “And isn’t Aunt Sue your own sister?”

  “Of course; why?”

  “I was just wondering.”

  At this moment Madam LeRoy and her daughter, Mrs. Tyson, entered, andwith profuse apologies on the part of Aunt Sue, who had purposelydelayed, Mrs. Sterling was welcomed by her older sister. But the effecthad been the opposite to that which was intended. Elizabeth Sterlingwas feeling very much at home in the familiar rooms of the old house.