Happy House Page 4

  CHAPTER IV

  AUNT MILLY

  "So this is Anne Leavitt!"

  But Aunt Milly did not say it at all like Aunt Sabrina, or evencrisply, like B'lindy's "so _you're_ the niece," but with a warm,little trill in her voice that made Nancy feel as though she was very,very glad to have her there!

  Two frail little hands caught Nancy's and squeezed them in such a humanway that Nancy leaned over impulsively and kissed Miss Milly on hercheek.

  "I am so very glad to know you." Aunt Milly dashed a tear away fromher cheek. "I've counted the hours--after Sabrina told me you werecoming. To-day I lay here listening for Webb and then must have fallenasleep, so that when you really came I didn't know it. Wasn't thatsilly? Sit right down, dear--no, not in that old chair, it's souncomfortable--pull up that rocker. Let me get a good look at you!"

  Nancy did not even dread Miss Milly's "good look"--she was sodelightfully human! She pulled the rocker close to the lounge andstretched out in it with a happy little sigh.

  "I thought _I'd_ never get here! It seems as though this is way off inthe corner of the world. And I'm just tired enough to find the--the_quiet_ downright restful."

  Aunt Milly laughed. "I've been worrying over the 'quiet.' It's sodreadfully quiet here--for young folks. I was afraid it would make youhomesick. Now tell me all about your trip and your Commencement. I'vebeen going over in my mind just what your Commencement must have beenlike--ever since Sabrina told me we had a niece who was a Senior incollege. It must be wonderful!" she finished, with just the tiniestbit of a sigh.

  Suddenly Nancy realized that here was someone hungry to know all thatwas going on in the world outside of North Hero--not the world of menand women, but her girl's world--that world that had ended CommencementDay. She told a few little things about Senior Week, then, a littlehomesick for all that had just been left behind, she rattled off onerecollection after another with an enthusiasm that kindled an answeringfire in Miss Milly's eyes.

  "I can't _bear_ to think it's all over--except that life itself is onegrand adventure and probably, after a little, I'll look back on theschool days and think how empty they were of--real things!" ThenNancy, looking down at the frail white hand that clasped her own,thought with a sort of shock that life was scarcely an adventure forpoor Miss Milly. But Miss Milly answered contentedly. "I love to hearall about it. I'm glad you had it, my dear. I hope you'll come in andtalk with me often--it's like sunshine hearing your young voice!"

  "Oh, I shall _like_ to. You won't think I'm dreadful, will you, if Itell you that Aunt Sabrina frightens me awfully and so doesB'lindy--just a little. But you don't seem a bit like them."

  Miss Milly laughed outright--a laugh that had a silver tinkle in it."No, I suppose I'm not--a bit like them."

  "So when I'm so frightened I don't know what to do I shall comestraight to you. And, please, Aunt Milly, will _you_ call me Nancy?No one has ever called me anything but that and it makes me feel--likesomeone else--when they call me Anne. Aunt Sabrina was horrified whenI asked her."

  "Yes--she would be! Of course I shall call you Nancy--or anything thatyou wish! I can't be much company for you, dear, tied to this couch,but you can bring a great deal of happiness to me."

  A wistful gleam in Aunt Milly's eyes made Nancy lean over and kiss heragain. At that moment the door opened and Aunt Sabrina walked in.Then it seemed to Nancy as though a shadow crossed Miss Milly's face.The glow in her eyes died completely. She seemed to shrink back amongthe cushions.

  "Oh, you have met our niece," Aunt Sabrina said in her cold voice andwith no curiosity as to how it had happened.

  Nancy looked at Aunt Milly and Aunt Milly's glance seemed to say:"Please don't tell her I peeked through the blinds." Aloud sheanswered meekly: "I told her we were glad she had come!"

  Aunt Sabrina nodded as though to approve such action. Her eyes turnedaround the room.

  "Is there anything you want done? B'lindy's washed the other coversfor your cushions, but they aren't dry enough to iron. The colordidn't run a bit--they'll be more sensible than those white ones, forthey won't be needing washing all the time, and B'lindy has enough todo!"

  "Oh, yes, they'll be more sensible," Miss Milly agreed wearily. "No, Idon't want anything."

  There were two or three moments of silence. Aunt Sabrina went aboutthe room straightening a picture here, a "tidy" there. Nancy watchedher with angry eyes--what _was_ there about her that had killed thatprecious glow in poor little Miss Milly?

  She rose abruptly. "May I go to my room? I want to write a letter."Miss Sabrina said, "Why, of course, Anne," and Miss Milly flashed alittle ghost of a smile that entreated: "You see what life is like forme, so please, _please_ come again."

  Upon Nancy's face, as she closed her own door behind her, was a mixtureof relief, indignation and apprehension. And a little of each of theseemotions crept into the lines of the letter that--to give vent to allthat was bursting within her--she dashed off to Claire.

  "---- You'd just better believe that if I had that precious darling,Anne Leavitt, back in our beloved tower room I'd tell her that all thefortunes in the world and all the suffering Russians wouldn't hire meto spend one more day with her 'family.'

  "And yet, Claire, darling, it's so _dreadful_ that it's funny. I justwonder that I haven't been scared _pink!_ Can you picture your littleNancy surrounded by mahogany, so old that it fairly screams at you,that it was brought over on the _Mayflower_ and walls as high as theLibrary tower (please subtract poetical license) and just oodles ofLeavitt traditions--though I'll admit, just being a plain human mortal,I don't know yet quite _what_ the Leavitt traditions are, but believeme, I expect to, very soon, for Aunt Sabrina talks of nothing else!

  "Of course, sweet child, you can't make head or tail to all myjibberish, so I'll write lucid English now. The Island is wonderfullybeautiful, everything about it seems different from any other part ofthe world--the trees are bigger and the grass is greener and every nowand then you catch a glimpse of Lake Champlain as blue as Anne'ssapphire ring and hazy purple mountains beyond. And the whole place isbrimming with all kinds of historical stories.

  "They call this house Happy House. It was named that by the first AnneLeavitt, and she had a mantel made in England with the letters carvedon it, and the day after it was put up she died in the very room I'mwriting in! Isn't that tragic and exciting? I can't make a story outof that, though, for it's been all written up in a book they sell atNorth Hero.

  "The house is big and built of stone that was quarried on the Island,and it's all covered with vines and is beautiful--outside. It hastrees all around it that meet overhead like a canopy, and instead of aregular garden in beds the ground's all covered with tiger lilies andSweet William and phlox and lots of flowers I don't know the name of,that look as though they'd spilled out over their gardens and greweverywhere. And there's a darling old gardener who is a descendant ofEthan Allen.

  "In fact, everyone I've seen is old and, Webb said, is descended from'somebody or other.'

  "But the inside of the house--oh, horrors! I don't believe a ray ofsunshine has gotten into it since the year one, and if it did, it wouldbe shut out mighty fast. Dad would go wild with delight over the oldfurniture, and the dishes are beautiful, but the wallpaper looks likegreen lobsters crawling all around, and you walk on brown-red roses asbig as cabbages. Does it torture my artistic soul? Oh, ye gods! Andmy own room! No wonder that other Anne Leavitt died! I never saw somany tidies in my life--I shall never draw a happy breath among them.Oh, I can shut my eyes, right now and see the dear old tower room--yousitting in the middle of the bed (unmade, of course), playing your uke,Anne digging at her French Four on the window seat along with the fudgedishes which I forgot to wash, and a week's muss all around us. Oh,Claire, _weren't_ we happy, though? And to think it's all over.

  "Aunt Sabrina is very handsome and very Leavitty. I think Anne, in hermanner, when we've done something she doesn't approve of, is like herAu
nt Sabrina. She's very tall and parts her hair straight in themiddle and has the longest, straightest nose and a way of talking toyou that makes you feel like an atom. B'lindy, who is thewoman-of-all-work around Happy House, but Somebody, just you believe,is very much like Aunt Sabrina and looks at you as if she could see thelittlest thought way back in your mind. And, of course, with me actinga part and feeling as guilty as can be, you can imagine that I don'tenjoy B'lindy's searching glance! However, I asked her some questionsabout the Leavitts and it warmed her up a little.

  "But there is an Aunt Milly that Anne didn't seem to know about and,Claire, _she_ is human--the dearest, sweetest, prettiest, timidestlittle thing. You can't tell, looking at her, whether she is old ornot, but being my great-aunt--or Anne's--I suppose she is. But she isan invalid and evidently can't walk. There's something about her thatmakes you feel dreadfully sorry for her and like taking care of her,and I sort of imagine that for some reason or other Aunt Sabrina treatsher horridly. When Aunt Sabrina comes into the room, poor Aunt Millyacts scared to death.

  "Just how I'll come out of it all I can't guess. I've got to keep myhead and see the thing through for Anne's sake. But--so far--I don'tlike it a bit. It was easy enough planning it all with Anne back incollege, but somehow, now that I'm here, I feel so underhanded,deceiving these people. And Miss Sabrina talks so much about theLeavitt honor that it makes me feel like thirty cents. There is a lotof mystery about the place, but I feel as though I had no right to tryand find it out, though I'll admit I'm dreadfully curious. I rode overfrom North Hero with the funniest old man--his name is Webb and he saidhe was one of Freedom's 'first citizens.' Modest--yes. Well, with avery little encouragement he would have poured out the entire Leavitthistory, only it didn't seem nice to let him talk. But he spoke abouta 'Leavitt trouble,' and he said something about Miss Milly being'happier in the grave.' Isn't that interesting? And the verystrangest thing of all is that Aunt Sabrina has forbidden me to ever_mention_ my father--or Anne's father and grandfather! Of course Annewill want to know all about it, and maybe it is my duty to find outwhy! Anyway, if the chance comes to me, well, I won't shut my ears.

  "Speaking of Webb and riding over from North Hero, Claire, I did themost dreadful thing, and if I tell you, you must swear that you won'tever tell Anne, though goodness knows when either of us will see dearold Anne again. We'd driven along for miles and hadn't seen asoul--even the cows in the pastures weren't moving--when suddenly,around a corner, dashed a man on horseback. He went by us like aflash, but I could tell even with all the dust, that he rode well andwas very handsome and sort of different from--well, Webb, and thepeople you'd _expect_ to see on North Hero Island. I was curious--youknow, I always am--and I turned around. And what do you think hedid--he wheeled that horse around and stopped dead still to stare atus, and caught me turning, of course, though I was just curious becausehe seemed different. And that isn't all--he had the nerve to wave hishand and here's the confession! _I nodded back to him!_ I always amso impulsive and it seemed so good to see someone that was young. Andhe did have the grandest eyes even through the dust. But here's theworst--I asked Webb who he was, and Webb said he was '_Judson's hiredman!_' Oh, Claire, what would Anne have said!

  "Well, of course, the fellow had his nerve, and if I ever see him againI shall show him his place and make him understand that I am adignified, unapproachable young person.

  "Oh, Claire, dearest, I wish I was with you at Merrycliffe. You don'tknow how lucky you are to have a jolly home and a jolly mother whoknows how to love! That's the trouble here--they act as though it wasa crime to show a spark of affection. Aunt Milly comes the nearest toit, but I don't believe the others _know_ what love is.

  "Write to me often, for it will help keep up my courage, and I willkeep you posted as to all that happens to poor me--especially about thehired man. I can't wait to see him.

  "Once your happy and now your perfectly miserable used-to-be Nancy.

  "To be known for the present as,

  "ANNE LEAVITT."