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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

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BOOK: Spice Box
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“Brown,” said Janice promptly, smiling.

“And what next?”

“Blue. But you won’t be extravagant, will you—Martha?”

“I will if I like,” Martha said, smiling. “And now, little girl, it’s time for a rest, and after that we’ll have a talk about what we’re going to do. When you wake up you’re going to have ice cream. Do you like ice cream? And while you are eating it, I’ll tell you about all the bay windows we are going to build in the house, and you can help me decide what kind of curtains we’ll get.”


Oh
,” said the tempter. “
How foolish you are! You ought to have told her she could stay only a few days, at least until you find out what she is like. You may regret this bitterly.

But Martha paid no heed.

The next morning Janice announced she was going to get up and wanted to know what Martha had done with her clothes.

“No getting up till the doctor has been here,” said Martha firmly. “Remember, you promised to be good.”

“All right,” said the girl submissively. “But Martha, I’ve got a suitcase down at the Central Station. It has a few clean things, underwear and a clean blouse. I had to check it, I was so tired, and then I didn’t have the five cents to get it out again.”

“Get out the ticket and I’ll send Ronald for it this afternoon when he comes by. Now I’ll get your breakfast. Ernestine can keep you company while I’m gone.”

That was a breakfast fit for a king. There was oatmeal cooked all night; rich, top-of-the-bottle cream; orange juice that had stood in the ice all night; and a tiny omelet. Martha brought her own breakfast upstairs, too, and while they ate, they talked.

Afterward, Janice took a nap. Martha went up to the telephone and called two or three of her former colleagues at the store, asking them to select such things as she wanted for a girl friend and have them sent out by special messenger that day. With her knowledge of the store it was easy for her to make selections from the saleswomen’s descriptions.

She came back to Janice when she awoke with a smile on her lips and her eyes dancing. She had had the time of her life buying all those outfits. There was a brown-and-white tweed suit with a brown velvet collar, and several blouses to wear with it. There was a leaf-brown cape and another of aquamarine blue; a few cotton prints for warm mornings, with brown and blue for the predominant colors; a lovely brown wool jersey for cool mornings. That was enough for a brief trip. She also had a warm tweed coat sent up and a small, soft brown felt one that was sure to be becoming. Some underwear and stockings from her old department, gloves and collars and handkerchiefs. She gave her friends in the store carte blanche and knew their selections would be in good taste. There would also be needed shoes, but a local store would send those up to be tried on, and Ronald could take an old shoe to them to size. She could hardly wait for afternoon and the things to arrive.

The doctor’s visit gave them promise. Janice might try sitting up in a chair that afternoon. Ronald came in early, attended to getting the suitcase, and brought up several pairs of shoes to be tried on. Everything was moving fast.

Then the things from the store began to arrive and had to be opened and admired. Martha would allow no trying on till the next day, but Janice was delighted with everything, and so excited she had to be put to bed and made to take a nap.

They had a jolly supper together, the three, for Ronald invited himself. He was wild with delight over a package that Martha had ordered for him. Two new neckties and some colorful handkerchiefs.

“Some class!” he said as he strung both neckties around his neck and cocked a red handkerchief in his grubby front pocket. “I’ll be dressed up and pretty as a red wagon.”

When he finally went home, slamming the kitchen door happily, they looked after him lovingly.

“Isn’t he a dear boy?” said Janice, and a warm glow came into Martha’s heart as she assented.

But Janice could not go to sleep that night till she had thrown her arms around Martha’s neck, showered her face with kisses, and murmured many thanks for the lovely garments.

They were awake early the next morning, and Janice tried to make Martha let her get up and get breakfast, but Martha was firm. Ronald rushed in for a minute or two at quarter to eight. He had been up since half past five working in the grocery. The store boy was away and he had the job of sweeping and straightening up for the day. Ronald had designs of his own, and he wanted money for his trip. Money that did not come from Martha Spicer. He meant to be a bit independent.

It was a happy day, and one by one the new garments were tried on, and fitted beautifully. Janice was very happy, though still hesitant about accepting all this generosity.

But Martha went about her work, putting things in order for leaving with a song on her lips, something that she could not remember ever having done before. Singing at her work!

“Children of the Heavenly King,

As ye journey, sweetly sing!”

Ernestine couldn’t understand it and looked at her inquiringly. It was quite a relief to have Ronald come in for a few minutes. But then she heard them talking. They said she, Ernestine, was to be left with Ronald’s mother, who had once thrown a brick at her for sitting down on a clean dishcloth that was bleaching on the grass! How was she to know the woman would object? No indeed! Ernestine had no intention of being left in a fix like that. She would hide in the cellar the morning they left, and live on mice. She knew where there were plenty, nice tender, juicy ones. And now and then a dusty little city bird for a change. But they wouldn’t put anything like that woman over on her, not on your life!

Martha did some packing the next day after the doctor had been in and said that Janice would be able to go for the weekend. That would allow for Ronald to finish his school week if they took the afternoon train. Then Martha went over to see Ronald’s mother and arrange for Ernestine’s care, promising that she would look after the boy to the best of her ability while they were gone.

The cat was sitting trustingly in the window, blinking and watching for her return when she got back, and Martha almost felt a pang of remorse for this poor creature who was not going along. Fancy Martha Spicer thinking about a cat’s comfort!

So Ernestine had a nice saucer of cream for her lunch and a piece of a chop that was left over. She ate it gratefully and sat licking her whiskers without suspicion. But the next morning when they were about to start, Martha suddenly gathered the cat up, bundled her into a big shawl, and carried her out the door.

Ernestine was wise enough to realize that the worst had come. She bucked and scratched in a dignified way, but Martha’s arm was firm and determined, and the shawl was bewildering. She felt herself presently transferred to another arm even more firm and determined, felt a gentle pat on her still-covered head, and heard Martha say, “Good-bye, Ernestine, we’ll soon be home. Thank you, Mrs. MacFarland. I hope Ernestine won’t make you any trouble.”


Ernestine
, make trouble,
indeed
!” protested the cat in one long, dismal howl. “It is far,
far
, more likely that the woman will make trouble for Ernestine!”

The shawl was removed, and Ernestine, from the window, was permitted to watch her traitoress-mistress and the stranger-guest depart in a taxi. After which she was allowed to get down on the floor, where she immediately took refuge behind the sofa, glaring out greenly and watching every time the door opened.

She bided her time till Ronald rushed in, leaving the door open, and then like some belated comet, she fled, making a beeline for the hole under her own steps, where she took refuge in trembling rage in a dark corner of Martha’s cellar, her green lamps shining out balefully into the silence and darkness.

So, Martha started on her first real vacation.

Ronald arrived at the station only two minutes later than his ladies and took possession of the suitcases, bought the tickets, and swelled around generally, as if such duties were a regular part of his daily life. The trip was an exciting one, personally conducted by Ronald, who had made it before and therefore could identify and introduce every sight along the way.

The big plain cottage, to which they presently came, needed painting, but was spacious and looked toward the sea. The new boarders didn’t mind the shabbiness. And there were wide porches running all around the house on every floor.

As they climbed the stairs the Robertses came out in the hall to greet them and ask if there was anything they could do for their comfort and then immediately apologized as they saw the offended look on Ronald’s face. “Oh, excuse me, Ron. I didn’t know you were along. Of course you’ve looked after everything.”

It was soon time for supper, and Martha looked proudly at Janice as she came down in her pretty plaid skirt and trim white blouse. She certainly was a pretty girl.

Ronald escorted them into the dining room with the air of owning the place, and said “Hello” to the waiter, who grinned back. Ronald pulled out the chairs for the ladies as if he were an old hand at the business, and Martha’s heart swelled with pride in him.

Janice wasn’t equal to doing much walking yet, but after supper Ronald came flourishing up to the porch with a double wheelchair and, putting both his ladies in it, wheeled them off triumphantly.

They leaned their heads back and looked off to sea and felt suddenly intimate with the great ocean.

“Oh,” said Janice with a sigh of delight, “I’ve always wanted to be alone with the ocean for a little while and really get acquainted with it. I used to get up in the morning when I was a little girl and we went to the shore, just so that I could see the ocean before the crowds got there and trifled with it. It always seems to me that the ocean gets reserved and kind of retires into itself, gets that faraway look in its eyes, you know, when a great lot of people come around it and prance up and down on the boardwalk looking at each other and never casting a glance out to sea. Don’t you think so?”

“Why, I never thought about it,” said Martha, looking in wonder at this shy little girl of hers who had suddenly turned out to be a sort of poet. Were such thoughts really learned, or were they merely childish fancies? Her life had been so entirely practical that somehow she was at a loss to know. But the fancies pleased her, and she smiled indulgently on the sweet girl.

The next morning Ronald wanted to teach Janice to swim, but Martha said she wasn’t strong enough yet, so Ronald compromised on a crabbing expedition.

They rode on the outlet trolley, with the ocean spray dashing up around the wheel of the car at one place. They found a boat awaiting them with all the paraphernalia for crabbing, and even Martha submitted in taking a part in the frolic. Ronald had paid the fare, and when Martha had protested, he said, “Whaddaya think I am? A tightwad? Whaddaya think I earned all that money for, working at the grocery, if I didn’t have a place to spend it?”

They climbed down the wooden steps into the wide, comfortable boat, held their skirts away from the pile of wet strings, raw meat, and long-handled bag nets, and sat where they were told. Then they were rowed silently, breathlessly, out into the bright golden and blue water, still as a piece of glass, out amid the tall, fringing grasses that rose like a hedge and shut them in, with fleecy white clouds reflected here and there in the water, like spirit boats out on cruises of their own.

At last they drew near a big island of grass and anchored. Ronald attended to the details with the air of professionalism, for while the others were sleeping he had thoroughly acquainted himself with the business and knew just what to do next. He already knew more than the man who had taught him.

Yes, this was the crab bed; those voices over on the other side of the island that sounded like detached spirits were more people crabbing.

“There’s one, be careful! Oh, I lost him,” Ronald shouted, and Martha suddenly became filled with a desire to see one of those creatures they had come out to hunt—a creature to whom she had often been likened in the old days in the store.

“Yes,” said Ronald, “those dirty wet strings are lines, and the pile of raw meat is bait.” But when she perceived that she would be expected to take those dirty wet things in her hands and manipulate them, drop them into the grassy water to lure the crabs from the mud in which they lived, she shuddered. She even began to feel a little sorry for her victims.

When at last there came a tug at the end of her line and she dipped the net and lifted it, and two fierce, angry eyes like long, piercing telescopes appeared above the water and looked at her, she shrank in horror. Was that what they thought she looked like? With a cry, she almost dropped her net, till Ronald, always ready for emergencies, rescued the crab and landed it in the box in the bottom of the boat.

“He’s a honey! He’s a lulu!” cried the boy. “I guess they’ll be astonished at the house when I tell them you caught him!”

Martha smiled. She liked the praise, but she hadn’t got over her fright and the curious feeling that the ugly frantic creature with the mad vindictive gaze might be herself thus embodied. Nevertheless, the enchantment had fallen upon her and she went on working as hard as any of them to catch a lot of crabs.

The sun was high when they turned back, and people were singing all sorts of tunes as they came out of the lagoons and wended their way back to their hotels. Cheerful, modern songs most of them were, but one boatload was singing, “Brighten the corner where you are.” Martha looking at the big old crab she had caught, as he sat blinking and belligerent in his box, and wondered if even a crab could possibly change—that is a human crab—and brighten the corner of any old box where he might find himself. She would see!

They went to a football game that afternoon. Martha Spicer at a football game!
Think
of it! But Ronald had the tickets, a gift from an old pal of his in the city who worked at the powder mills and played on their ball team. He was down at the shore playing a local team and had met Ronald and given him the tickets. Martha wouldn’t have gone, but she saw the wistful look in Ronald’s eyes and heard the excitement of pleasure from Janice, so she went.

BOOK: Spice Box
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