The Mandie Collection (54 page)

Celia turned her back to Mandie and asked her to finish buttoning her dress. “I don't know why they make dresses with so many buttons in the back where you can't reach them,” she fussed.

“Oh, but they're pearl buttons, Celia,” Mandie said, fastening them one by one. “They really make the dress look elegant, and you look especially pretty in yellow with your auburn curls. There,” she said, fastening the last one. “Now what are we going to do with our hair?”

Celia thought a moment. “How about threading my pearl necklace through my hair instead of wearing it around my neck? It would look special, wouldn't it?”

“Yes. And I'll just use a few of these rhinestone combs in mine,” Mandie decided. She tentatively placed one in her hair and then added three more to secure her blonde tresses.

The girls were ready, but they'd heard nothing from Mrs. Taft's room.

“Maybe we should see if Grandmother is getting ready,” Mandie suggested, knocking on the connecting door.

There was no answer, so she unlatched it and opened it carefully. No one was in the room.

Mandie turned to Celia. “Didn't she say we were to be ready for dinner at seven o'clock?” She flipped open the pendant watch hanging around her neck. “It's fifteen minutes to seven right now.”

Just at that moment, Mrs. Taft's hallway door opened and she came hurrying into her room. “Oh, dear, oh dear,” she muttered. “I can't be late.” Then she noticed the girls, and stopped suddenly, putting a hand to her face. “My, but you both look like princesses!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Taft,” Celia replied.

“Now you girls can wait for me in your cabin. I'll be ready in just a few minutes.”

“Of course, Grandmother,” Mandie said, leaving the room with Celia. She closed the door and twirled around in her long blue gown. “Well, I wonder what held
her
up till the last minute?”

“Senator Morton?” Celia said with a grin. She mimicked Mandie's elegant twirling movements.

Mandie stopped suddenly and stared at her friend. “You're right. I think my grandmother is what you would call ‘smitten' with the gentleman,” she said. “But I'm glad, because I really like the senator.”

“I like him, too, Mandie,” her friend replied. “Do you think he might ask your grandmother to marry him?”

“Marry him? Well, I don't know about that.” Mandie thoughtfully patted her hairdo. She smiled. “But, that's not such a bad idea, Celia, because then I'd have a grandpa, wouldn't I?”

“A step-grandfather, Mandie. Not a real one,” Celia corrected. “There's a difference.”

“Since my two real grandfathers died before I was ever born, I think it would be nice to have the senator for my very own grandpa,” Mandie decided.

Celia frowned. “Do you suppose he has any children or grandchildren of his own?” she asked. “Because if he has, they might not want to share him with you.”

“Oh, Celia, that's silly,” Mandie teased. “What difference could it make to them if I claimed him, too? I do know my grandmother must like him an awful lot, because they were together everywhere in Washington, D.C., remember?”

“That's right.”

“And he must like my grandmother,” Mandie continued. “In fact, I think he came on this journey just because of her.” She looked around the room. “I wish Grandmother would hurry. I'm tired of standing, and if I sit, I'll wrinkle my dress before dinner.”

“Lean against the wall like this,” Celia demonstrated.

But within seconds Mrs. Taft opened the door between the rooms. “Be sure you close the door now, dears, so Snowball can't come into my room. He might decide to sleep on my clothes there.” She indicated a pile of dresses on hangers lying across the bed. “I don't have time to hang them up,” she added, a little embarrassed.

Mandie and Celia looked at each other and grinned as they closed the connecting door.

As they followed Mrs. Taft out of their room, Mandie whispered, “I guess she couldn't make up her mind what to wear.”

Celia nodded.

Senator Morton was waiting for them in the corridor, and taking Mrs. Taft's arm, he led the way to dinner.

At the doorway of the dining room, the girls stopped and stared. The room was huge. There must have been hundreds of tables covered with white linen tablecloths and set with fine silver, delicate china, and sparkling crystal. Waiters in formal attire stood ready, and the smell of food made Mandie ravenous.

In the center of the room on a raised platform a uniformed orchestra was softly playing a waltz.

A man with a dark complexion, who was dressed in evening clothes, stood at the entrance taking names and telling other employees where to seat the guests. But when he came to them, he spoke to the senator briefly, then escorted them personally to the captain's table.

Captain Montrose stood, greeting the dozen people who would dine with him that evening around a large round table. He was a tall, slender man with gray hair and a huge mustache, and he spoke with a heavy British accent.

While Mandie and Celia were seated to the captain's left, Mrs. Taft and the senator sat on his right.

The girls groaned and whispered to each other when no one was looking, “Why do we have to sit right under his nose?” Mandie said between clenched teeth.

“And right in front of your grandmother and the senator,” Celia muttered.

As the table filled, the girls found themselves the only young people there. Most of the other guests were even older than Mrs. Taft.

After everyone was seated, Captain Montrose turned to Mandie. “I'm very happy to welcome friends of President McKinley to my ship and my table,” he said. “I've heard about your visit to the White House, Miss Amanda.”

“You have?” Mandie questioned, folding and unfolding her hands under the table.

“Yes, you see it was in all the British newspapers—the story of how you have helped the Cherokee Indians,” the captain explained. “I wish I could have met your other friends, too.”

“Thank you, Captain Montrose,” Mandie said. “But we didn't do anything special. You see, the gold belonged to the Cherokees in the first place. We just used it to build them a hospital.”

“But without your leadership and knowledge the poor Indians would likely not have accomplished with it what you did,” the captain added.

Mandie bristled.
Poor Indians
!

Celia touched Mandie's arm in a cautioning gesture.

Just then, from across the table, a man with wire-rimmed glasses spoke. “And have you heard anything from the President since your visit?” he asked.

Mandie recognized him as the man who had given Senator Morton the newspapers. Before the ship sailed, she had thought he was a visitor, not a passenger.

“No sir,” Mandie replied. “Except for a note right after I got home. President McKinley is such a busy person. And his wife is so sickly, he has to take care of her, too.”

“Do you expect to visit him again someday?” the man asked.

“Mister . . . uh . . . I don't believe I got your name, sir,” Mandie stammered.

“I am sorry, Miss Shaw,” the man apologized. “I thought perhaps you caught it when the captain introduced all of us. My name is Janus Holtzclaw. I believe we were both at the President's inaugural dinner in Washington.”

“Oh yes, Mr. Holtzclaw.” Mandie nodded. “President McKinley invited us to visit him again sometime, but there is nothing definite about that. Why do you ask all these questions?”

Mrs. Taft gasped, and others around the table cleared their throats.

Mandie didn't care what other people thought. She was determined to get to the bottom of this mystery. Why was this man so interested in her?

“I apologize again, my dear,” Mr. Holtzclaw said, grinning. “I happen to own a newspaper, and I have a bad habit of asking too many questions, I suppose.” He adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles.

“I suppose I do, too, sir, and I apologize if I sounded rude,” Mandie replied. She looked down at her plate, hoping to end the conversation. At least now she knew why the man gave the senator all those newspapers. He was in the business.

The captain picked up the conversation again. “We will be having a play in the music room after this meal is finished,” he said. “If anyone would care to attend, I would be happy to escort you to the room.”

Mandie shivered at the overly courteous way the captain spoke. There was something about that man. . . .

Immediately everyone at the table agreed to go to the play except Mandie and Celia. Mandie glanced at her grandmother for instructions, and Mrs. Taft told the girls they should come along with the senator and her to the play.

As everyone left the table, Mandie and her friend trailed along behind. Mandie turned to Celia and whispered, “I didn't see Charles anywhere.” She looked around to be sure no one else could hear. “And I didn't see that strange woman, either.”

“Charles probably eats with the help,” Celia reminded her. “And maybe that woman eats at the second sitting.”

“Let's go see if she's anywhere near our room,” Mandie urged. Before Celia could reply, Mandie tapped Mrs. Taft on the shoulder, and she turned around. “Grandmother, Celia and I need to stop in our room for a second, we'll catch up.”

“Well, all right,” Mrs. Taft replied. “But make it fast, and be sure you find us. We'll save two seats next to us for the play.”

The girls agreed and hurried down a cross hallway. As soon as they were out of sight of the adults, they lifted their long skirts and raced along the corridor to their room. There was no one in sight anywhere. Now and then they could hear someone talking in a cabin, but the corridor was deserted.

As they reached their door, Mandie sighed and opened it. “We didn't find her,” she said, grabbing her kitten before he could get out. “Oh, Celia. I forgot about Snowball. He's got to have some supper.”

“If we could find that Charles, maybe he would get some food for him,” Celia suggested.

“But I'm not sure what he would think about Snowball,” Mandie protested.

“Didn't your grandmother get permission for you to bring the kitten?” Celia asked.

Mandie rubbed Snowball's head. “I don't know,” she replied. “I guess I assumed she did, but I'm afraid to take any chances.”

Snowball looked as if he wanted her to pick him up, but she shook her head. “No, Snowball, you might snag your claws on all this lace and finery.”

Suddenly Celia gasped, and Mandie looked up. “Mandie, look! All the fruit is gone! Every single piece.” Mandie ran over to the table and picked up the empty bowl. “Well!

I wonder who took it? And why!”

Just then there was a loud rap at the door, and when Mandie went to answer it, she was glad to see the steward's smiling face. He held a lovely vase of beautifully arranged fresh flowers.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he said in his crisp British accent. “These were to be in your room before we sailed, but there was a mix-up of some sort. They're compliments of the captain.”

Mandie hesitated a moment, then took the vase and set it down on

the dressing table. Charles talked with them for a few minutes, then started to leave. “Wait,” Mandie said. “I wonder if you would do me a big favor.” “Certainly, miss. Anything you desire,” Charles said, half bowing. “You see, I need some food—” Mandie stopped, not knowing how

to explain the situation. “For your kitten,” Charles said with a smile. “I was just going to

get him something after I delivered the flowers.” Mandie looked at him in surprise. “You knew about Snowball?” “Of course, miss.” He smiled. “You see, when I brought the bowl

of fruit for you, I noticed him then. Poor kitten was lonely, being shut up in here.” Charles stooped down and rubbed Snowball's soft fur as the kitten purred and rubbed against his legs.

“You don't mind if I keep him on the ship?” Mandie asked. “No, I love animals, and so does the captain,” Charles told her. “Now I'll get him supper if you'll excuse me.” “Wait.” Celia stopped him. “You say you brought the bowl of fruit

to us. But it's all disappeared.” She pointed. Charles stared at the empty bowl. “You ate it that fast?” “We haven't touched it,” Mandie said. “Why did you bring us so

much fruit anyway?”

“That, too, is compliments of the captain,” Charles explained. “I also left one in your grandmother's cabin next door, and the senator's across the way.” He shielded his mouth as though divulging some great
secret. “Confidentially, though, you two are the only ones to whom he sent flowers.”

He grinned, then grew serious again. “I just cannot imagine who took all that fruit.” He reached over and took the bowl. “Never mind,” he said. “I'll just get you another one.”

“Thanks so much,” Mandie said as he started out the door. “Celia and I have to catch up with my grandmother now and see that play in the music room. Thanks.”

Celia grabbed Mandie's arm. “Mandie!” she cried. “How do we find the music room? We don't even know where it is.” She looked at Charles helplessly.

Before Mandie could reply, Charles offered to show them where it was. Shutting Snowball in their room, the girls followed the handsome steward down the corridor.

Mandie squeezed Celia's hand and whispered, “You said that on purpose, didn't you?”

Celia nodded and smiled as they caught up with the man.

“Do you have a crush on him?” Mandie teased after Charles left them at the music room. The play had not yet begun.

Celia raised her eyebrows, grinned, and silently led the way to the seats Mrs. Taft was holding for them.

CHAPTER FOUR

SNOWBALL ESCAPES

The sun shone brightly the next morning, and the ship's chaplain planned a Sunday church service in the open air on the main deck. Mrs. Taft insisted that the girls attend with her and the senator.