Little Miss By-The-Day

from the narcissi border. It wasn't only her sprained ankle that frightened her, though that hurt dreadfully of course, but it was all of the persons running with lanterns, the hou

persons about all at

with Marthy beside her, Grandfather came and sent Marthy away. It was nearly midnight, the

am not so stupid as to believe that you did not expect something of the sort when you climbed up to the top of the wall. Knowing the women of your race as I do I might have suspected something of the sort-" he folded his arms, and looked so stern in the dim light of her bedside

nd Marthy had come bac

sked just

tay in bed because s

r throat, she wasn't sure whether she wan

hat fret ye, my precious lamb, that foot of yours

sisted, "I'd be proud, proud, proud I c

y was at the door ready to go. Felice could only feel her approac

re you thinking to

kle the girl sat up in th

n't you know? That's

-to see how Maman has

roud when I knew Grand

long since Ma

er, but aloud she said compassionately, "Don't be settin' your heart too

ay in the morning the tears were coursing freely over her lean an

t's proud I am that I watched you in your bit of a yard and it's sorry I am that you're going-and it

the last of the baggage outside to the carriage. Suddenly Felice put her two arms aroun

gone to the House in the Woods-wh

on the steamer. He was really very gentle with her, he tried his best to make her comfortable, he did not refer at all to the events of t

ind blew, raw and cold, but she shook her head when they suggested she let them take her into the cabin. She just lay with clos

scarcely spoke to the Major. Poor Major! He walked the deck, his thin c

er. Sometimes the Major stopped outside and asked her quietly what she would like. There was nothing she liked, but in the mid- afternoon she pulled herself together and let the Major wrap her coat about her and leaned on his arm to limp out of her stateroom and down the wobblin

earing a bit in the west as the girl stared curiously about her, while the baggag

re is Mama

pped his cart and gathered sprawling boughs of wild cherry blossoms, those first harbingers of spring in that bleak northern country, and fastened them to the wooden yoke that held

slouchy cap as he stumble

this were all we had to fetch ye in-Piqueur-he's too old f

nt hickory with buffalo robes tucked in them. The boy swung Felice i

ed through the ugly village they turned out of the woods into a narrow road through sandy plains, an interminable road it seemed to Felice. Last year's sere leaves rattled on the scrub oaks; the wind-blown juniper bushes made

ising steam from their wet flanks told how hard even those sturdy beasts found the climb. Just as she was thinking that she

k cheerfully over his should

quarter of a mile which grew still narrower but was lined with enormous bare tree

whip. It was quite dark now save for a faint light below the horizon of the sand dunes, but o

drive of the stable yard and came to a slow stop under the inky shadows of the wooden gallery that was built across the front of the house. A woman was hurrying down the sagging steps, such a fat, comfortable woman that Felice unconsciously leaned toward her even before she could see the alert black eyes and the wide smiling mouth. She held a lantern high above her

g in her voice as the Major helped Felice descend, "I did not know-she is-lame-" Her lantern was on

ered the broad and draughty hall, with the formidably big rooms on either side dimly lighte

y long, with its deep lace cover and the branched candelabra. The very he

d about her, she looked around with artless curiosity, and watched as

d. But when he had dropped his hand M

g smile across the table, a platter of ham boiled in apple cider whose delicious odors made her sniff hungrily, and after he had served the meat th

ter he had filled Felice's

owly, "We will drink

all the silver with which she was eating was marked with the same odd mark that had adorned her s

she cried, "it h

nod

m, peering out the windows, addressing staccato questions in French to Piqueur. He pulled th

"You cannot know, Miss Felicia, how glad we are, my uncle Piqueur and I, that the house is opened once more-you

ghed. She was opening the door of the upper room. She did not ans

s Felicia, don't you think you will like it? See how droll-" her brown wrinkled hand rested on a beautifully carved corner p

ce s

or child, even after she lay, warm and cozy, in the great bed that had been her mother's. And the last thing she saw as she closed her

ders during the slow passing years, this had been a job that put her on her mettle. Eighteen years of dust and disorder had Margot somehow or other weeded out of that building. But even with the pale spring sunshine and wind to help her and even with the huge fires they

o be happy-" she sighed as she tiptoed clumsily out of the room and down the draughty stairway. She stood respectful

arkling with anger at her audacity, but somet

hat her mother-that Miss Octavia-" his thin old hand tightened its grip on the frail arm of the chair, "I do not know," he ended miserably, "ju

n from exposure, Margot leaned forwa

he tapped her head significantly. "I do not mean like a ghost-I do not see her. Only there is something, most of all in the springtime-that makes me happy. Perh

irred in her slumbers. She was very tired. "Maman," she muttered drowsily as the Major paused

sed itself, the quaint measures delighting her ears. Even in Piqueur's thin falsetto the old melody sang itself-tender, graceful, spirited, neve

aten carpet with its faded doves and roses. Sh

it says-that song you sing." But it was Margot who le

rips through the fingers like water-" Margot's own throaty voice joined lustily into her uncle's refrain, but

slender black- haired, eager-eyed dryad, whose shabby b

ursed themselves delicately and a second later the lilting trill

tardy tree tops were budding at last, their lovely bronz

rds of the song, Margot?-Oh, look, look!" she pointed joyously to a blackbird on

young. It is good-go back to your bed,

pen space in front of the house, with its descending terraces and the gray jungle of underbrush that hid

l she be in the garden? Where is the garden? I've looked and

om and coaxed her into the bed, rubbing the small bandaged foot, cuddling the quilts about her, as sh

r the covers and nibb

ed, "I was unhappy; it

thing Marthy said, that

I mustn't set m

close to the bed and too

have to tell you is hard. You see when Octavia

demanded Felicia s

agged painfully, "She went where all

eal of work to build the garden over, she said she was afraid it would b

hout her-and now, after all these years that I have learned to live without her-it is as if she had gone away again to have to try- to t

" asked Felicia

all," said Margot

" demanded

the bed now looking very litt

ving any more,

ne of Piqueur's voice, still singing Maitre Gued

rose tempestuously, angrily, "You shall not say such dreadful things! They are not true! The Major sa

rther and farther out of her thoughts. She rose, absurdly majestic as she steadied herself w

u do not know that I have a vairee bad temper-I make myself proud, proud, proud when I lose it -but it will make you vairee unhappy if I do-I say and I do most dreadful things when I

mped swiftly across the space toward the window, she leaned far out and called to her grandfather, who stood in the courtyard below, gravely inspe

ing down to him, "Grandy, you will have to

m; but even before he was in the room, looking very pale and stern and old with his beautiful head lift

e's been telling me lies-she says Maman isn't here-that

h the manner of her going-what she said to you about the garden-you did not understand, my dear-She had a notion, my little Octavia, that we do not die-that only our bodies die-many other people believe this-are you listening, Felicia? She thought that her spirit," he groped for words, "the Something she called the 'Happy part of her' couldn't-'stop'-as she called it-she sa

his inadequate explanation, she did not cry out, she m

Happy Part of he

nod

ot are both stupid and bad to tell me that she won't-If you will find my

ne-" the deep agony of his voice ra

one?" demanded F

red his

ected her senses once more. She pattered across the room to the

Felicia!" She held aloft a broad sun-hat and a pair of gauntleted gloves, "Just where she hung them-as if she knew you might want them! These are the things she wore when she worked in the garden-here's her wicker bask

er's; she was quite docile as the Major helped her to the chair by the window. She had the garden book cuddled u

end that you can see the seventeen year old Felicia, wrapped in that shabby brocaded dressing gown sitting beside the window staring at the stained title page, trying to read the faint inked inscription. Perhaps you'll like to

r grandfather, "so

ittle Mad

call Prude

is book, for

very happy buil

cia put her finger on the broa

n who gave it to her-J.-" s

e this book

t chu

a who was your mother's mother-now do you see? And think, Miss Felicia-" she waved her hand toward the opened door of the wardrobe, "what many, many things they've left here for you! When Octavia was just as old as you she rummaged and rummaged every day-" Margot wiped her eyes with the back of her hand-t

s ribbons would be blue! I know how they tie in back so's it won't make me warm under my chin-she told me-look, isn't this the way?" Her slender hands lifted the hat to her hair, so sweetly rumpled from her pillows, "Look

d bravely toward her and li

stable, if you'll excuse me- Margot will show you the other things-" he was in the doorway now, his head h

d the do

ious little descendant! Wise old Margot, who must speak so carefully that she will not break that girl's heart! Margot, w

adroit eloquence did she introduce all their foibles and virtues to Felicia! Oh, but she was a fine old gossip, was

illed with hideous garnet and gilt breast-pins and bracelet

areless boy! Bring som

e up here!

barrassed and awkward

hen to juggle wildly wi

tions for Piqueur abou

r's

! He's done as well as he could but he's made a fine mess of it-the poor child! Thinking Miss Octavia would b

k with a delectable

t at the fireside, curled up in the winged chair with her bandaged foot propped comfortably on a foot-

es half around her healthy young waist. But she liked the bonnets and the shawls. They were adorable. The shawls were so soft, so quaintly shaped, the bonnets were fairly ravishing.

her, "My aunt says she was the handsomest girl

. Louisa went to Paris, you know, and Mademoiselle lived there. Mademoiselle use

ot n

ay, but my aunt served her and she said Mistress Josepha had an air-a way with her-if things didn't suit her-" she lowered her voice impressively-"Ah-what she wouldn't do, that Josepha! Once my aunt took her an omelette-a beautiful omelette cooked with chopped fine carrots and peas an

ia bl

hrow-but when I was little I did-my bath sponge, you know, and once a key-" she grew thoughtful, "the key to the storeroom where Madem

agged from the tall wardrobe. On the chairs, over the bed, hanging from the pegs of the cu

irl's side. "On top,-" the odor of the cedar was wafted out into the room like the odor of the pine plains through which Felice had been driving yesterday, "here, these are things she had when she came to live in this house that was built for her-plain enough, eh?

ss Prudence. They were so dainty, so fragile I With their delicate yellowed laces! They were so soft and faded with age! Each little frock was packed b

rgot! That darling rosy one!" She bobbed out of the chair excitably, "Look at the little silver sho

rieved over Octavia, he had yearned for Louisa, he had pondered mightily concerning Josepha who had been so angry with him when he had married her daughter. But he'd thought not at all of little Madame Folly in whose house he sat and brooded, not until he looked up and saw her great-great-granddaughter standing in the doorway, dressed in a cherry-colore

pretty at all," she ba

but oh, Grandy, aren't

prudence's," he ba

her treasures from u

table! I'll checkmate you before even dinner is ready! Mar

o her throne. From that very moment she ruled them all,-Gran

to do. Rebuilding the garden was a sacred trust; hadn't Maman told her to do it? All day long, her serious face shaded by the old garden hat, her slender hands encased in the gauntleted gloves, she prowled about the terraces or rummaged in the tool house, usually with the

Is fully

ates to the

alled plea

, Groves, Bo

tai

and general

ing, and raising

ts requisite

e French ori

domin

over the wilderness that lay below her, the wilderness that had once been a garden. The cleared space that stretched for two or three hundred yards before the house was divided into three flat terraces whose crumbling banks had lost their

ent-" she would fret, "I can'

the bed. Sometimes Felicia thought that Mistress Prudence' garden must have been built after "The Sixteenth Practise"-that was a brav

ing over the weedy sod and Bele tramping to and fro with barrows of manure. Her Bowling Gre

w sinking and slopes of turf which are practised in the middle of a parterre. A Bowling Green is the most agreeable compartment of a garden, wh

its s's all turned like f's and its italics so thin you could scarcely decipher them. Besides that, the author, who remained discreetly anonymous, but none the less unwarrantably conceited, had a maddening way of spreading over

w Box Trees

ch makes it called dwarf box. The other kind is the Box Tree of the woods, which advances much higher and has bigger leaves which make it fit to form Pallisades and green Tufts for Garnishing. It comes up in the shade but is a long time gaining any consid

errors as well as the joys of the game

Insects that Attack…

Moles, Caterpillars,

an abundance of weeds

wn to

r merriment sounding through the empty halls. She doubled her littl

's why I can't see it-" she wrinkled her nose in disgust

us moonlit night, a chilly night when she snuggled under the blankets and yawned over the chapter that told her "how to mulch plants for winter." The wind blew so chill that at midnight she pattered across the old carpet to make the casement fast. The whole cleared space below her glistened with the fairy glamour of the first frost. Under the magic

to blow a tiny kiss to the fountain cupid, "How stupid I was not to see! You just

t for morning to impar

and the

ves from experiences both at Versailles and in ye south of Engl

e time. Besides, Piqueur was, as Octavia had foretold "too old." But it was Margot-oh, heaven-sent Margot, and the adoring, clumsy Bele who t

pring that they found a massive iron roller in an unused shed at the back of the carriage house! Think of the wonder of that day wh

y from season to season. By the time the second spring had come it

s of Certain Legal Matters; and as Felice hated him as much

was in March that he came, and Felicia and Margot were deep in their spring plans. They needed a gr

lways asked him for vegetable seeds when I sent the spring list of supplies-write in a paper, Cherie, all

was strolling impatiently in the gallery waiting for the cart to drive

r our garden," she said. "You wil

the first time she had ever voluntarily spoken w

e stared amazed at the lengthy or

ered him. Her low voice soun

give it back to me if you can't get them, I have another person-who can attend to-Cert

the lawyer deman

me quickly, I'm sure. You see, in April we shall need these things for the planting. He told me-" she add

e lawyer frankly gaped at her, his eyes narrowed. He looked very pa

licia-" he capitulated. "You do not need to ask a

itors. But Piqueur, who had always hated the lawyer, cunningly evaded the cross- examination. And in less than a week after B

ays, but more often he sat gloomily, his hand on his cane, his chin resting on his hand and looked sadly across the terrace where Felice directed her workers. He, like Piqueur, was growing "too old." He was really seventy-four that summer. Margot knew when his birthday came and tried to

n the old days when she had played with Maman. Of course, she had to whistle to pretend and he still affected a scorn of the whistling he had once forbid

! Let's pretend I'm no

that's a washerlady.

d in France when she wa

n on the grass to ble

ould snatch up her needlework basket and swing it at her hip and pull the roses down from the mantelpiece vases and all the whi

ng," she would explain joyously, "is for autumn, when all the men and women are waiting on their restless horses for the master of the hunt to blow his horn-" Her cupped hands at her lips made a beautiful horn and her whistle ra

't you make believe they're all here?" she waved her hand toward the portraits around them! "I pre

huddled by their fire. For them she whistled all the droll bits of Marthy's songs that she remembered. Piqueur only listened solemnly, with his smothered briar pipe held politely in

e must make hay while the sun doth shine H

he timorous lover always mad

cry 'Widow,

oyish voice of hers roundly mout

ng waves from the top of the rigging! I don't suppose she ever knew all of the words of any of these songs or ballads, she never did any of them qu

the spring nights when the tender breezes let the half-awakened wistaria flutter outside her window

heart-breakingly still, she woul

tend it's THAT NIGHT! Let's pretend they've just brought me in from the

t here! Lost one when

a girl-w

only been there! You woul

in the lowest drawer of the wardrobe. Once

r this-" she mur

it away jealously and c

" she had retorted pa

belong evaire to any

and as for the Major-well, there came a day when the Major fell prostrate by the staircase and lay for a long time breathing very hard. That was a terrifying time until Bele brought a doctor from the village. He was a good little doctor, round faced and

ou to go to Paris-i

smiling across at a black eyed old gentleman who muttered and fumbled peevishly at his food or quite forgot to eat at all until she coaxed him. She always smiled at dinner; one should smile at dinner

and forth in her high ceilinged bed chamber. And sometimes she would kneel beside her window and mur

ling," which isn't in any prayer book of course, s

for the thousandth time how to trench the peas without burying them, when a cru

Major Trenton-"

l Matters since the time of the Major's fall. Felicia had signed many papers at h

ia, coolly, "Bele, not-so- deep! You're

and knelt to open it and out popped the littles

her knees. "Oh, oh, it's a little Babiche! Oh

icia took him in to Margot and brought him soup and fed the wee doggie and flut

illion things! I want to ask Ma

s eyes and sh

atted his

she asked softly. "I know how har

omised me rent free for my lifetime and he gave me all the breedin' stock they was and left me the business for what I could make, so's to speak. Which isn't what it were, with new-fang

d out a chai

t it out-have you seen Mr. Burrel?" she questione

peated Zeb dully, "Thi

'Auction, April 10

I was packing my thing

rthy. As to how to g

ound faced doctor, whom Margot and Felicia called for advice, could learn anything more from his

the new Babich

would miss me, Doctor, if I went away a l

or shook

swered, "But, Miss D

sm

here with Margot, the doctor could take me to the station, Zeb says he didn't come on a boat, just a train. And you know, Margot, when I get to Brooklyn, I'll go right

atiently while Margot made Felicia ready for the hasty journey. He saw nothing absurd about the slender figure that came down the stairway toward him wrapped in the very same traveling

e her at all. He roused himself for the doctor's perfunctorily che

u pretending

oing on a journey," s

look like going on

, his thin hand on the top of his cane. He shivered slightly. "But I

Felicia put out her hand and stopped him. Zeb and Margot and Bele st

nk-I-can't go alone-Zeb, you bring me my n

professionally. He scratched his head per

ocket of his rough coat. "I was forgetting, Miss Felicia, a matter of a letter for you I f

much creased and much b

s F

Yo

etur

. Sm

Lane, Bro

ss the Pine Plains. That's an easy enough thing to pretend, but a tiresome enough thing, too, for then you'll have to make believe you're urging your tired horse over those heavy roads to the railway station so you can get the old maid there in ti

ering local train, quite unmindful of the atrocious rocking roadbed or the blurred spring forests that whirl past yo

ipherable handwriting and that you've kissed the inner wrapping that reads "Please send this to Miss Trenton (if that's her name

Fel

r house and this afternoon you'd gone away. The old woman says you've gone to a house in the woods. Please, please tell me you'll let me come to see you. Please tell me where it is

a lot of things. You can send a letter to my house, it's 18 Columbia Heights, Brooklyn. I know you k

me very soon. I can't wai

UDLEY