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Authors: Lois Gladys Leppard

The Mandie Collection (67 page)

BOOK: The Mandie Collection
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“No, madam, it isn't on the paper,” the man replied.

“I know it isn't on the paper, but do you not have a record of people who send messages?” Mrs. Taft insisted.

“Begging your pardon, madam, but that message was here when I came to work tonight. I only log in the messages that come in while I am on duty,” the man explained, smiling at Mandie.

“Is there no way to find out who sent it?” Mandie wanted to know.

The man glanced at an open book on the counter. “I fear not, miss,” he replied. “Your name is not on the day's record here.” He flipped the ledger around for Mandie to look at it.

Senator Morton stepped forward to look at the ledger. “Evidently there has been a slip-up somewhere,” he said. “Perhaps we'll learn the sender's name later. Now I have a message to send, if you please.”

Jonathan had been standing in the background and now he stepped forward to the senator's side. “Senator Morton, sir, please emphasize in your message to my father that I have promised to stay with all of you until we go to Paris, where I will immediately contact my aunt and uncle,” he begged.

“That way he won't come over here to get you before we've had time for you to show us around Europe,” Mandie added.

Mandie and her girl friend, Celia Hamilton, were on a tour of Europe with Mandie's grandmother that summer of 1901. Jonathan Guyer had
run away from his home in New York, and the girls had found him stowing away on the ship.

Jonathan smiled at Mandie. “Yes, I hope he'll let me stay,” he agreed.

“We'll see, son.” The senator hastily scribbled a message on the pad on the counter, and Mandie turned her attention back to the message the clerk had given her.

“I just wish I knew who sent this,” she said, staring at the words on the paper.

Celia smoothed Snowball's white fur as he clung to her. “I'd say it was from someone who knew you're always getting involved in all these adventures everywhere we go,” she said.

“It sure sounds like Joe, but it couldn't have been him,” Mandie said. “This message was sent from here in London, and Joe is back home in North Carolina.”

“Who is Joe?” Jonathan asked.

“Oh, Joe is a friend I grew up with back home in Swain County. His father is Dr. Woodard, and he doctored my father until my father . . . died,” Mandie haltingly added. Even now, over a year later, she still couldn't talk about her father's death. She loved him so much it was hard to make herself realize he was gone forever.

“Dr. Woodard travels around all over western North Carolina doctoring people everywhere,” Celia said. “He's just about the only doctor in those mountains. And Joe is a
serious
friend of Mandie's, you might say.”

“Celia!” Mandie gasped, her face burning red.

Jonathan shuffled his feet and dropped his gaze. “I see,” he mumbled.

Senator Morton finished sending his message to Jonathan's father in New York and turned back to the group. “The answer will be sent to our hotel,” he told Mrs. Taft. “Shall we go now?”

“Oh, yes. Let's do,” Mrs. Taft agreed. “I'm beginning to feel like a good night's sleep.”

Senator Morton told Jonathan, “I know your father will be glad to know that you are safe with us—that you haven't been kidnapped.”

“He's going to be awfully angry with me for running away from home, though,” Jonathan replied as they left the telegraph office.

The public carriage they had taken from the ship to the telegraph office had waited for them. Their luggage was piled high on top, and there was more to be delivered to the hotel.

“I do wish it were daylight,” Mandie said, wistfully looking through the window of the carriage as it started on its way. Snowball curled up in her lap and went to sleep.

“We'll get up bright and early tomorrow to begin our sightseeing,” Mrs. Taft promised.

As they rode along the cobblestone streets in the dark, Mandie saw shops and lots of people along the way. Then suddenly the street became lighter.

“Look!” Mandie pointed. “They have those newfangled lights up on posts along the street!” she cried.

“Amanda, those are gaslights,” Mrs. Taft explained. “They've had those for many years.”

“Oh,” Mandie replied in disappointment.

Senator Morton smiled at her. “They do have those newfangled lights, as you call them, in the center of the city,” he said. “We'll be seeing electric lights pretty soon now.”

“Do you not have electric lights in North Carolina?” Jonathan asked.

“A few places have them,” Mandie replied. “In Asheville, where Celia and I go to school, some of the stores have them, and our school is supposed to get them one day soon. But we don't have them at my house in Franklin.”

“We have electric lights in New York,” Jonathan told her.

“Look ahead, Amanda,” Mrs. Taft said. “I believe I see electric lights up the street.”

As the carriage rounded a curve, Mandie could see the street ahead through the open window. “I see them!” she said excitedly. “But you know, I don't think they are any brighter than the gaslights back there. I wonder why they don't just keep on using gaslights?”

Senator Morton laughed. “Every country tries to stay ahead of the others,” he said. “They all want the latest invention as quickly as possible.”

“Like the girls at school all trying to be the first to get the latest fashion in clothes,” said Celia.

“I just don't see any sense in such stuff,” Mandie replied, shifting the sleeping kitten in her lap.

“The Majestic Hotel, where we'll be staying, has electric lights,” Jonathan told Mandie. “And the school I went to over here in London—well it's actually out in the country a ways—but it has electric lights, too. One day everyone everywhere will have electric lights.”

“I suppose so,” Mandie said with a sigh. “Talking about the Majestic Hotel, do you suppose that strange woman from the ship will be staying there?”

“Oh, I hope so,” Celia said. “Then maybe we can find out who she is.”

“Well, she'd better not follow us around like she did on the ship,” Mandie remarked.

“If she is staying at the Majestic Hotel, she won't have a chance to follow us around because we are going to be busy every minute while we're here in London,” Mrs. Taft said. “I want you girls to learn as much as you can about what you see. It will be so educational for y'all.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the two girls chimed.

Snowball got up and stretched, and the rattle of paper in Mandie's lap reminded her of the message she had received. She pulled the paper out from under the cat and smoothed it out.

“Do you suppose that strange woman could have sent me this message?” Mandie asked suddenly.

“Impossible,” Jonathan told her. “She was on the ship with us, but the man said that message was sent by someone in London.”

Mandie sighed. “I may never find out who it was.”

The carriage pulled up in front of the doorway of the Majestic Hotel, and the driver jumped down and opened the door. Senator Morton assisted Mrs. Taft from the vehicle, and the young people quickly followed.

Mandie gasped as she gazed at the huge stone building in front of her. “My goodness!” she exclaimed.

“Looks like a castle!” Celia added.

“Oh, no, it's nothing like a castle,” Jonathan said. “Wait till you see a real castle. It's not at all like this.”

As the young people followed the adults into the lobby of the hotel, Mandie looked around in wonder. “I believe this is the fanciest building I've ever seen,” she said.

Huge crystal chandeliers, electrically lighted, hung from the high ceiling. People mingled everywhere among the green plants about the marble-floored lobby. Rich red plush draperies covered the floorlength windows, and matching settees and chairs crowded the room. Conversation buzzed loudly with a hearty laugh here and there as friends greeted friends.

The girls stood there staring. Finally Mrs. Taft touched Mandie's shoulder and said, “Dear, you and Celia and Jonathan sit over there while the senator and I sign for our rooms.”

“Yes, Grandmother,” Mandie replied, not taking her eyes off the room around her as Mrs. Taft went with Senator Morton to the counter.

Mandie and her friends walked over to the settee Mrs. Taft had indicated, but suddenly three young dark-haired girls headed for the same seat. Not seeing the other girls, Mandie and Celia bumped into them as they all tried sitting down at the same time.

“Look out.” Jonathan tried to warn them, but he was too late. He had been in the hotel while he was a student in London and the finery was nothing new to him.

The five girls looked at each other and laughed.

Mandie straightened up and grasped Snowball tighter. He had almost escaped. “I'm sorry,” she apologized to the girls.

Celia stood beside Mandie. “Me, too,” she added.

The dark-haired girls also stood up. The smallest, a pretty girl with dark eyes and dark skin, looked at Mandie and Celia curiously. “Why are you sorry?” she asked in an odd accent.

“I almost sat on you,” Mandie said with a little laugh.

“There's enough room for us all,” the tallest girl said, plopping down at the end of the long settee. “Sit down, please.” She also spoke with an accent.

All five girls managed to squeeze onto the settee, but Jonathan was left standing.

As the girls laughed together, Jonathan suddenly stooped in front of the youngest girl, grasped her hand, kissed it, and said,
“Bonsoir, Mademoiselle, comment allez-vous
?”

The girl smiled and quickly replied,
“Comment vous appelezvous
?”

Before Jonathan could answer, Mandie and Celia jumped up.

“Jonathan Lindall Guyer, the Third,” Mandie said crossly, “you will not speak French around me ever again.”

“Never.” Celia agreed.

“Didn't we get into enough trouble with your speaking French and pretending to be a foreigner on the ship?” Mandie reminded him.

“I'm sorry,” Jonathan apologized mischievously. “I thought maybe these girls didn't understand English.”

“Understand English?” The tallest girl gasped. “We happen to be very British and don't understand much French. I suppose you are all Americans.”

At that moment a dignified-looking blonde woman and a handsome man with a light complexion came over to the three girls.

“Come, we are ready,” the lady told them.

The three girls immediately became solemn. “Yes, Mother,” they said in unison.

Rising from the settee, they followed the couple across the room. The youngest one looked back and secretly waved. Mandie and her friends watched them disappear into the crowd around the huge front doors.

“So, Jonathan,” Mandie teased as they sat down on the settee again, “sooner or later their knowledge of French would have run out, and then you would have had to speak English.”

“I'm really sorry, Mandie,” Jonathan said. “I know French irritates you because I fooled you girls on the ship with it. However, when we go into France, you're going to have to put up with French because those people insist on speaking their own language!”

Mandie sat silently for a moment and then said, “Well, I just wasn't sure what you were saying to that girl.”

Jonathan laughed loudly. “I only asked her how she was,” he said, “and then she asked me what my name was.”

“Jonathan, do you think you could teach us some French so we could talk to the people in France?” Celia asked.

Jonathan shrugged. “Maybe a few words, but you girls need to learn French in school,” he replied. “It's convenient to know because
most of the countries in Europe have people who speak or understand French.”

“Did that girl tell you what her name was?” Mandie asked, petting Snowball's head as he tried to get down.

“No, you didn't give her time,” Jonathan said, laughing.

“They all looked alike—except they were three different ages—didn't they?” Celia remarked.

Mandie laughed. “Now that's a jumbled sentence,” she said. “In other words, they all looked like sisters.”

“Yes.” Celia nodded. “But, you know, they didn't look like the woman and man at all.”

“No, they didn't,” Jonathan agreed.

“But those people must have been the girls' parents because the girls all said ‘Mother' together, remember?” Mandie told her friends.

“You're right,” Jonathan said.

“I know, but they still didn't look like those people's daughters,” Celia insisted.

“They're more than likely staying at this hotel, so we'll probably see them again,” Mandie decided. “Next time I'll really look them over.”

Senator Morton came through the crowd and stood beside the young people. “Come on, Mrs. Taft is ready to go upstairs,” he said. “The bellhops have already taken care of our luggage. This way.”

The senator led the way toward the counter and then headed down a corridor to the left. Mandie's grandmother was standing there waiting for them. Senator Morton stopped, and he and Mrs. Taft just stood there. Mandie looked around. She didn't see any stairs in this hallway. What were they waiting for?

Suddenly a hidden door opened in the wall in front of them and several people rushed through it from a sort of cage inside. Mandie watched in amazement.

Mrs. Taft stepped through the open doorway into the cage. “Come on, dears,” she urged. “Hurry now.”

Jonathan and Senator Morton immediately stepped aside, waiting for the girls to go ahead of them.

Mandie and Celia stood rooted to the spot.

“W-What is this?” Mandie exclaimed.

“It's a lift, Mandie,” Jonathan tried to explain. “Or an elevator, as we would call it back home.”

BOOK: The Mandie Collection
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