CHAPTER XX THE TEMPERANCE CLUB AGAIN

The boys sat in the buckboard and talked earnestly while Lyddy and ’Phemie Bray “visited” with the Widow Harrison. She was a tall, gaunt, sad woman–quite “spry,” as Lucas had said; but she was evidently troubled about her future.

Her poor sticks of furniture could not bring any great sum at the auction, which was slated for the next Monday. She admitted to the Bray girls that she expected the money raised would all have to go to the mortgagee.

“I did ’spect I’d be ’lowed to live here in Bob’s place till I died,” she sighed. “Bob was hard to git along with. I paid dear for my home, I did. And now it’s goin’ to be took away from me.”

“And you have no relatives, Mrs. Harrison? Nobody whose home you would be welcome in?” asked Lyddy, thoughtfully.

“Not a soul belongin’ to me,” declared Mrs. Harrison. “An’ I wouldn’t ask charity of nobody–give me my way.”

“You think you could work yet?” ventured Lyddy.

“Why, bless ye! I’ve gone out washin’ an’ scrubbin’ when I could. But folks on this ridge ain’t able to have much help. Still, them I’ve worked for will give me a good word. No young woman can ekal me, I’m proud to say. I was brought up to work, I was, an’ I ain’t never got rusty.”

Lyddy looked at ’Phemie with shining eyes. At first the younger sister didn’t comprehend what Lyddy was driving at. But suddenly a light flooded her mind.

“Goody! that’s just the thing!” cried ’Phemie, clasping her hands.

“What might ye be meanin’?” demanded the puzzled Mrs. Harrison, looking at the girls alternately.

“You are just the person we want, Mrs. Harrison,” Lyddy declared, “and we are just the persons you want. It is a mutual need, and for once the two needs have come together.”

“I don’t make out what ye mean, child,” returned the old woman.

“Why, you want work and a home. We need somebody to help us, and we have plenty of space so that you can have a nice big room to yourself at Hillcrest, and I know we shall get along famously. Do, do, Mrs. Harrison! Let’s try it!”

A blush rose slowly into the old woman’s face. Her eyes shone with sudden unshed tears as she continued to look at Lyddy.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, child!” she finally declared, hoarsely.

“Yes, dear Mrs. Harrison! We need you–and perhaps you need us.”

“Need ye!” The stern New England nature of the woman could not break up easily. Her face worked as she simply repeated the words, in a tone that brought a choking feeling into ’Phemie’s throat: “Need ye!”

But Lyddy went on to explain details, and bye-and-bye Mrs. Harrison gained control of her emotions. Lyddy told her what she felt she could afford to pay.

“It isn’t great pay, I know; but we’re not making much money out of the boarders yet; if we fill the house, you shall have more. And we will be sure to treat you nicely, Mrs. Harrison.”

“Stop, child! don’t say another word!” gasped the old woman. “Of course, I’ll come. Why–you don’t know what you’re doing for me—”

“No; we’re doing for ourselves,” laughed Lyddy.

“You’re givin’ me a chance to be independent,” cried Mrs. Harrison. “That’s the greatest thing in the world.”

“Isn’t it?” returned Lyddy, sweetly. “I think so. That’s what we are trying to do ourselves. So you’ll come?”

“Sure as I’m alive, Miss,” declared the old woman. “Ye need have no fear I won’t. I’ll be over in time to help ye with supper Monday night. And wait till Tuesday with your washin’. I’m a good washer, if I do say it as shouldn’t.”

The young folks drove back to Hillcrest much more gaily than they had come. At least, ’Phemie and Lucas were very gay on the front seat. Harris Colesworth said to Lyddy:

“Lucas has been giving me the full history of the Widow Harrison’s troubles. And her being sold out of house and home isn’t the worst she’s been through.”

“No?”

“The man she married–late in life–was a Tartar, I tell you! Just as cranky and mean as he could be. Everybody thought he was an old soldier. He was away from here all during the Civil War–from ’61 to ’65–and folks supposed he’d get a pension, and that his widow would have something for her trouble of marrying and living with the old grouch.

“But it seems he never enlisted at all. He was just a sutler, or camp follower, or something. He couldn’t get a pension. And he let folks think that he had brought home a lot of money, and had hidden it; but when he died two years ago Mrs. Harrison didn’t find a penny. He’d just mortgaged the old place, and they’d been living on the money he got that way.”

“It seems too bad she should lose everything,” agreed Lyddy.

“I am going to stay over Monday and go to the vendue,” said Harris. “Lucas says she has a few pieces of furniture that maybe I’d like to have–a chest of drawers, and a desk—”

“Oh, yes! I saw them,” responded Lyddy, “And she’s got some kitchen things I’d like to have, too. I need her Dutch oven.”

“Oh, I say, Miss Lyddy!” he exclaimed, eagerly, yet bashfully, “you’re not going to try to cook over that open fire all this summer? It will kill you.”

“I do need a stove–a big range,” admitted the young girl. “But I don’t see how—”

“Let me lend you the money!” exclaimed Harris. “See! I’ll pay you ahead for father and me as many weeks as you like—”

“I most certainly shall not accept your offer, Mr. Colesworth!” declared Lyddy, immediately on guard again with this too friendly young man. “Of course, I am obliged to you; but I could not think of it.”

She chilled his ardor on this point so successfully that Harris scarcely dared suggest that they four go to the Temperance Club meeting at the schoolhouse that night. Evidently Lucas and he had talked it over, and were anxious to have the girls go. ’Phemie welcomed the suggestion gladly, too. And feeling that she had too sharply refused Mr. Colesworth’s kindly suggestion regarding the kitchen range, Lyddy graciously agreed to go.

Mr. Somers, the school teacher, was possibly somewhat offended because Lyddy had refused to accompany him to the club meeting; but for once Lyddy took her own way without so much regard for the possible “feelings” of other people. The teacher could not comfortably take both her and ’Phemie in his buggy; and why offend Lucas Pritchett, who was certainly their loyal friend and helper?

So when the ponies and buckboard appeared after supper the two girls were in some little flutter of preparation. Old Mr. Colesworth and Grandma Castle (as she loved to have the girls call her) were on the porch to see the party off.

The girls had worked so very hard these past few weeks that they were both eager for a little fun. Even Lyddy admitted that desire now. Since their first venture to the schoolhouse and to the chapel, Lyddy had met very few of the young people. And ’Phemie had not been about much.

Since Sairy Pritchett and her mother had put their social veto on the Bray girls the young people of the community–the girls, at least–acted very coldly toward Lyddy and ’Phemie. The latter saw this more clearly than her sister, for she had occasion to meet some of them both at chapel and in Bridleburg, where she had gone with Lucas several times for provisions.

Indeed she had heard from Lucas that quite a number of the neighbors considered ’Phemie and her sister “rather odd,” to put it mildly. The Larribees were angry because Mr. Somers, the school teacher, had left them to board at Hillcrest. “Measles,” they said, “was only an excuse.”

And there were other taxpayers in the district who thought Mr. Somers ought to have boarded with them, if he had to leave Sam Larribee’s!

And of course, the way that oldest Bray girl had taken the school teacher right away from Sairy Pritchett—

’Phemie thought all this was funny. Yet she was glad Lyddy had not heard much of it, for Lyddy’s idea of fun did not coincide with such gossip and ill-natured criticisms.

’Phemie was not, however, surprised by the cold looks and lack of friendly greeting that met them when they came to the schoolhouse this evening. Mr. Somers had got there ahead of them. There was much whispering when the Bray girls came in with Harris Colesworth, and ’Phemie overheard one girl whisper:

“Guess Mr. Somers got throwed down, too. I see she’s got a new string to her bow!”

“Now, if Lyddy hears such talk as that she’ll be really hurt,” thought ’Phemie. “I really wish we hadn’t come.”

But they were in their seats then, with Harris beside Lyddy and Lucas beside herself. There didn’t seem to be any easy way of getting out of the place.