Chapter VIII: The Arrival

From the stable-yard there came a blast from an Alpine horn as the cortege started for the station. There was a long wagon for baggage, an open brougham, two buggies and the gayly colored tally-ho, for whose appearance, with the two grooms and four big black horses, the people who lived along the road were watching. It was nearly car time, and Sherry soon heard the rumble among the hills and saw the wreaths of smoke curling up in front of the station where the train was stopping. On a balcony opening from the hall in which the rooms of the quartette opened, Nos. 2, 3 and 4 had assembled, and Sherry finally joined them and stood waiting till the four black horses came prancing up the hill, the clinking of their silver-tipped harness, the blowing of the horn by one of the grooms and the chatter and laughter of the young people, nearly drowned by the barking of the huge dog, who ran sometimes in front of the horses, again under them and again at the side of the road, jumping and rolling over and shaking his handsome head and long mane in token of his delight with the freedom and freshness of the country. It was the dog Alex. had brought from Denver, changing his name from Laddie to Sherry, to which the dog had become so accustomed that he had seemingly forgotten his old name. Occasionally, to test him, Alex. would call “Laddie, Laddie,” when the dog would plant his fore feet firmly on the ground and, lifting up his head, seem to be intently listening to something heard long ago and forgotten. But he would never move from the spot where the sound reached him, no matter how many times “Laddie” was repeated. Call him “Sherry,” and he always came with a bound, oftentimes putting both paws upon the shoulder of his master.

So many things to interest him had come into Alex.’s life since the night of the opera, when he saw Sherry Sherman in old Pledger’s box, that he did not think of her now as much as formerly. Who she was, or where she was, he had no idea, and the only link between her and himself was the dog he had named for her, and who was now barking himself nearly wild in his joy at being free to run as far as he pleased and thrust his nose into every suspicious looking hole along the road, hoping to unearth a woodchuck, or rabbit, or something stronger, it mattered little to him in his exuberance of spirits. As the gay cavalcade swept up the hill, Alex. swung his hat with a cheer for Maplehurst, which was at once taken up by the party, who shouted themselves hoarse as they drew up before the door, where Mrs. Groves was standing to receive them.

“That’s him. I didn’t s’pose first-class folks made such a row as that, and Mr. Marsh is yelling, too, and he looks real good and not at all as if he would eat us,” Polly whispered, her attention concentrated upon Alex., as was that of her companions.

What they saw was a fair-haired, fair-faced young man, who, as Polly suggested, looked as if he was real good. All his life he had been having good times and helping others to have them, and he was having one now as he stood up in the tally-ho hurrahing for Maplehurst. Behind the tally-ho was the brougham, with Mrs. Marsh and the elderly ladies, while the open buggies contained husbands and fathers of some of the party. It was a gay gathering of well-bred, fashionable people, who, like Alex., were having a good time, and Mrs. Groves felt the importance and pride of her position, and bowed low as they descended one by one and began to fill the piazza and the hall, and to exclaim with delight at the beauty of everything.

“Oh, this is lovely! This is paradise! I wish I was to stay all summer instead of two weeks. I hope he will invite me,” Sherry heard as she came down from the balcony and stood at the far end of a side piazza, with a catch in her breath as she thought that her place was with the merry group rather than as a menial waiting for orders from Mrs. Groves.

Just then she was startled by a loud, peremptory call of “Sherry, Sherry, come here!”

Without dreaming that anything or anybody could be meant but herself, she started swiftly in the direction of the sound, and was met and nearly knocked down by a dog who planted his forefeet on her shoulders and stood shaking his head at her with a bit of stick in his mouth. While the rest of the party had been going into ecstasies over the house and the view the dog had been making observations, too, and spying a hole under a rock across the road had at once started for the spot and commenced digging, eager to do battle with anything which might be hiding there. Fearing for the safety of his pet’s long fur, Alex. called quickly, “Sherry, Sherry, come here!”

Obedient to the call the dog came, but picked up as he came a chip, which he hoped some one might throw for him to catch. Seeing Sherry running down the long piazza, he scented fun in that direction and made for her, while Alex. called again, “Sherry, come here,” and hurried around the corner in time to keep the girl from falling, the force was so great with which the dog leaped upon her. She was fond of dogs, but this one frightened her, and her face was very white as she looked up at Alex., and her breath came quickly as she said, “Please call him off.”

She swayed a little, and Alex. put one arm around her, while with the other he grasped his dog by the mane, and said: “Down, Sherry, down! It is only play. He is very good-natured. I hope he has not frightened you,” and he looked anxiously into the face which struck him as one he had seen before.

“Just at first he startled me, he came so swiftly. What did you call him?” Sherry said; and Alex. replied, “Sherry,—odd, I know, but pretty; don’t you think so? I am his master, Alex. Marsh, and you are——?”

Sherry hesitated a moment and then answered, with a laugh, “The girls call me Fanny, and Mrs. Groves, No. 1. I am your waitress.”

“By George!” Alex. said, under his breath, and in his surprise letting go of the dog’s mane.

Not till that moment had he noticed Sherry’s dress, the white apron and cap, which told her position, and which he recognized as one of the lot he had bought in New York.

“By George!” he said again, because he had nothing else to say, while Sherry’s beautiful eyes twinkled with a look of half scorn and amusement at his discomfiture. “Fanny! Yes, that’s so. I ought to have known. I beg your pardon.”

“For mistaking me for a lady?” Sherry said, and now there was scorn and sarcasm both in her voice, which made Alex. wince and feel small, while, for want of something better to do, he wrenched the chip from his dog’s mouth and sent it out upon the grass, followed swiftly by the delighted animal.

It seemed scarcely a second before he was back to where Alex. still stood looking curiously at Sherry and stammering he scarcely knew what except that he hoped she liked it at Maplehurst, and was comfortable and not overworked. He wanted everyone to have a good time, and if there was anything he could do for her she must let him know.

Mrs. Groves, who hated dogs, had heard the clatter of Sherry’s feet and seen him as he disappeared around the corner. She was very careful to have the piazzas kept clean and had had them scrubbed that morning, and here was that huge creature careering over them like mad. His place was at the stables with the horses, where a kennel had been built for him, and she started after him, shooing him as if he had been a hen and shaking her satin skirt at him, but stopped suddenly as she caught sight of Mr. Alexander Marsh talking to No. 1, who stood before him with what Polly, if she had seen her, would have called her grandest Duchess manner, and was actually smiling in his face, and showing her fine teeth and dimples. Mrs. Groves had been constantly expecting something out of the common from Sherry; but nothing quite so barefaced as thrusting herself upon Mr. Marsh’s notice before he had been there half an hour, and every thread in her satin gown rustled and the keys at her side gave out individual jingles as she said, “Young woman, this is not your place; you are wanted in the house to take towels to the rooms in corridor 2.”

Sherry looked at her in surprise, as this was the first intimation she had had that taking towels to the rooms was a part of her duties. Nor was it, and Mrs. Groves had only thought of it as a means of getting rid of her. But Sherry made no protest except with her eyes, which flashed a moment with a look Mrs. Groves had seen before and did not like. Then she said, very respectfully, “Yes, madam,” and with a bow to Alex., walked away, followed by the dog, who was so persistent in letting her know what he wanted that when she reached the end of the piazza she took the stick from him and threw it into the yard, as Alex. had done. There were leaps and bounds, and Mrs. Groves was nearly thrown off her feet as the dog rushed by her to the door through which Sherry had disappeared, shutting it after her. Finding no one there, he looked around with surprise and disappointment, and then came back to Alex. and Mrs. Groves, signalling to the latter that he wished her to continue the play. He might as well have signalled the Sphinx for any response he received, except a frown, as she held her dress away from him.

“He is so glad to be in the country again that he is nearly crazy,” Alex. said.

Mrs. Groves bowed and continued the conversation the dog had interrupted. She had commenced by saying: “I knew she had a great deal of assurance, but I did not think she would go so far as that.”

“As what?” Alex. asked, and Mrs. Groves replied:

“Thrust herself upon your notice the first thing.”

“She did nothing of the sort,” Alex. answered quickly. “My dog nearly knocked her down, as he did you, and I apologized for him, and told her who I was and asked who she was. She said she was sometimes ‘Fanny’ and sometimes ‘No. 1.’ She is a deuced pretty girl any way. Who is she and where did she come from?”

Mrs. Groves frowned. Alex., with his democratic notions, would spoil the servants if she did not keep a tight rein.

“She is Fanny Sherwood, or Sherman, or something like that,” she said. “I don’t try to remember their last names. I call the waitresses Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4, and she is No. 1, because I hired her first.”

“Do they like it?” Alex. asked, and Mrs. Groves replied: “I don’t consult their wishes. I tell you, Mr. Marsh, you must be strict these days with your help, or they will run over you and expect to be Miss Brown, or Smith, or whatever their names chance to be, especially if they are clerks, or typewriters, or teachers.”

“And what is No. 1?” Alex. asked.

“Nothing, so she says,” Mrs. Groves answered. “Poor, no doubt, and wanted an easy job and some money. I can’t say that she does not do her work well, but there is something about her which tells me that she’s a high stepper and must be curbed.”

“So she is the high stepper you wrote about? Well, don’t draw the bit too tight,” Alex. said, laughingly. “I want everybody to have a good time,—help and all. I could not enjoy myself if they were being ground down like machines,—so treat them well, Mrs. Groves,—treat them well, and if No. 1 wants to step high, let her, provided she does not kick over the traces.”

“Which she will, if you have your way,” Mrs. Groves replied.

“Well, let her kick,” was Alex.’s rejoinder.

He was beginning to feel a good deal of interest in No. 1, who, with a dozen fresh towels on her arm, was going towards corridor No. 2.

“What are you doing? The racks are full of towels,” a chambermaid said to her.

“Obeying Mrs. Groves’ orders,” was Sherry’s reply, as she went on and knocked at the first door in the corridor.

It chanced to belong to Amy Marsh, who, thinking it one of her friends, called out familiarly, “_Entrez_, if you can get in.”

The tone of her voice changed very materially when she saw who it was.

“Oh,” she said, “I thought Martha was the maid on this floor.”

“She is, but Mrs. Groves sent me,” Sherry answered, laying a part of her towels on the already well-filled rack.

“Yes; well, now you are here, I wish you would put up some of my things, which I have scattered everywhere in unpacking my trunk to get my dress for dinner,” Amy said.

“When I have disposed of these I will help you,” Sherry replied, leaving the room, while Amy looked after her curiously.

The girl’s personality was beginning to impress her. “I wonder who she is,” she thought. “Not an ordinary, sure; but some saleslady, I dare say, or teacher. They usually carry their chins in the air, and hers is very high. No matter, I mean to make her useful.”

Amy’s room was littered with the different articles she had dragged from her trunk, and these on her return Sherry began to put away, while Amy questioned her as to her name, and where she had lived, and in what capacity she was at Maplehurst.

Sherry told her she was waitress No. 1, that her name was Fanny, that she came from the country and was neither a saleslady, nor typewriter, nor teacher. Amy did not ask her last name. Like Mrs. Groves, she did not care. Fanny was enough, and as she seemed willing, notwithstanding the way she held her head and chin, she asked her to button her dress and fasten her collar and see if her skirt hung right. And Sherry did what was required of her and did it so well that Amy said to her, “Seems as if you must be a lady’s maid, you are so handy. Are you?”

“No, I have not that honor. I was never any one’s maid but my mother’s and sister’s. I am glad if I pleased you,” Sherry answered, and her chin certainly did take an upward tilt, and there were red spots on her cheeks as she left the room and went down to receive Mrs. Groves’ last directions before dinner.

Numbers 2, 3 and 4 were already in the anteroom looking a little anxious, except Polly, who said she didn’t care a rush for all the gentry at Maplehurst; she had seen a thing or two in Boston, had waited on a Governor, and could teach madam herself. Further remarks were prevented by the appearance of madam, who began: “Now, young women, this is your first dinner, and everything depends upon the way you acquit yourselves. If you are very awkward and make mistakes I may have to fill your places. Mr. Marsh is very particular about his table service. When the gong sounds you are to walk in slowly side by side with your trays, and take your places at your respective tables, behind the chair at the head, and don’t on any account ever put your hand on the chair or stand lopsided on one hip. Remember!”

With this injunction she went out, leaving Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4 waiting for the gong, with Polly taking a few steps of the Highland Fling as she waited.