Chapter IX: The First Evening at Maplehurst

“Now then,” Polly said, when the Fling was finished, “the time for action has come. So, heads up, heels together, toes out, shoulders back, and when the gong sounds, forward march, like soldiers going to battle. There she goes!” and she sobered down as the musical gong echoed through the house, and the four girls, with faces not quite straight, marched into the dining-room and took their places, while on the stairs and in the hall there was a rustle of muslin dresses and ribbons and merry laughter, and then the gay company came in, preceded by the head-waiter, a mulatto, who had arrived that morning and whom Mrs. Groves had not dared take in hand.

He knew his business, and gave her to understand that he did, and with great dignity assigned the party their seats. The Marshes were nearest the door, and Polly, who was on the side with Sherry, gave her a comical smirk and wink as Alex. took the chair behind which Sherry was standing. It was to have been Mrs. Marsh’s seat, but as there was a window at her back which would bring her directly in a draught she exchanged with Alex., who started a little when he saw Sherry pulling his chair out for him. Friendliness and familiarity were a part of Alex.’s nature, and neither his mother nor sister could make him understand the distance there was between him and his inferiors. Pleasant words cost nothing, was his theory, and they came naturally to him for every one he met. Had it been Polly behind his chair he might only have nodded to her, and would have recognized her fitness to be there. But Sherry, with her head and chin so high, her grand Duchess manner, and the look in her face as if she thought it a big joke, was different. He had met her before, and something in her eyes made him say, involuntarily, “Hello,” as to an old acquaintance whom he was surprised and pleased to meet again; then, seeing the look of astonishment on Amy’s and his mother’s face, he said, “I hope you are over your fright.”

Sherry inclined her head and passed him the menu for his choice of soup. But her eyes met his with a laugh she could not repress. Her eyes were always betraying her, and they flashed upon Alex. a look which made him feel hot and cold, and wonder again where he had seen her or some one very like her. He might have asked her had they been alone, but the dignity with which his mother straightened herself and the expression on Amy’s face subdued him, and he sat quite still, watching Sherry as she took the orders and went down the long dining-room in the direction of the kitchen.

“Alex.,” Amy exclaimed, “are you crazy, hallooing the waitress and talking to her as if you knew her?”

“I do know her,” Alex. replied. “I may almost say I have had her in my arms.”

“What do you mean?” Amy and Ruth and his mother asked in a breath, and Alex. replied: “My dog nearly knocked her down, and I got to the spot in time to save her, and, by George, neither of you have more an air to the purple born than she has. She is not a common personage, and ought to be sitting with us instead of waiting upon us.”

“Don’t be foolish, nor talk so loud; here she comes,” Amy said, as Sherry appeared with Mrs. Marsh’s soup and then went back for another dish.

“Well, just look at her and see how she carries herself. All the fellows are watching her, and Charlie Reeves, I know, is dying to be at our table,” Alex. said; then, as it was some little time before his soup came to him, he began to wonder at the delay and why the girls all walked as if in a slow drill when he was so hungry, and there was Charlie Reeves eating dry bread he was so famished.

The dinner progressed slowly, as it must if Mrs. Groves’ orders were followed, and Alex.’s impatience increased, and but for his mother he would have gone into the kitchen to see “why they were so infernally slow, and why they couldn’t bring and carry more than one thing at a time.”

“It is hot here as a furnace, and we shan’t get through till dark. I’m going to tell her to hurry anyway,” he said.

“Tell whom?” Amy asked, and he replied, “Why, Miss—what’s her name? You know.”

“You mean No. 1,” Amy said, and Alex. replied: “No. 1 be hanged! That’s no name for a girl. She has another, of course. What is it? She told me. Fanny? Yes, Fanny! Pretty name, too, and there she comes with one plate of salad, where she might have brought two or three, and by George if there isn’t——”

The rest of his sentence was a loud, “Sherry, you wretch! what are you doing here? Go back!”

Every one in the room was startled, and no one as much as Sherry. She had seen the dog looking in at her from the kitchen door, but had no idea he was following her, and Alex.’s sharp outcry, “Sherry, you wretch!” unnerved her completely. She did not think of the dog, or that he was meant. It was herself. She had done something wrong, and every object in the room began to swim before her and the strength in her arms to leave her. There was a crash, and tray and salad were on the floor, with the dog sniffing at them, and Alex. was bending over the débris, his hair once touching Sherry’s as he picked up the tray and she the broken plate.

“What is it?” he asked, looking at her white face.

“I was so stupid,” she said, “and thought you meant me.”

“You!” Alex. exclaimed, in surprise. “Why should you think that? It was the dog. Didn’t you know he was following you?”

“No,” Sherry answered, and the “no” was like a sob, for she was very near crying.

“Alex., do sit down and let the girl attend to her business,” Mrs. Marsh said, a little sharply, and Alex. sat down, while Sherry, more mortified than she had ever been in her life, took out the broken plate and resumed her duties, while a maid from the kitchen was sent to remove the salad from the floor.

In spite of his master’s commands that he should “get out,” the dog stretched himself by the window, watching every move of Sherry, and occasionally putting out his big paw to touch her dress as she passed him, and once making a motion to follow her. But Alex. kept him down, and the long dinner came to an end just as the sun was dipping behind the high hills around Maplehurst, and shedding a few farewell rays on Mount Washington. The guests hurried to find a cool place on the piazzas or under the great maple, where there were seats around the trunk and chairs scattered over the rugs spread upon the ground.

“Now we will have a good time smoking and talking, and by-and-by we will have some iced lemonade, and if anyone wants a drive there are plenty of lazy horses in the stables and lazy grooms to harness them; and there are three or four wheels, if you would like a spin along the road. I’ve had a path scooped pretty smooth for a mile or two.”

Alex. was distributing palm leaf fans as he said this, and bidding his guests have a good time. He was a prince of hosts, and it did one good just to see how happy he was, moving among his guests, who certainly had a good time watching the lights and shadows as the sun went down and the moon came up and threw its silvery rays upon the valley and hills and mountains. And while the party was having its good time in the cool of the early night, the great, kind-hearted Alex. did not forget that there was another party probably not having as good a time at the rear of the house. In his journey to the kitchen, ordering iced lemonade and tea and biscuits, he had heard the clatter of dishes and seen Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4 hurrying with their work as if they, too, were anxious for the fresh air and the moonlight. Conspicuous among them was Sherry, her face still very pale and with an expression which made Alex. sorry for her. He was apt to be sorry for people not having as good times as he did, and these dish washers certainly were not.

They ought to be out-doors getting some fresh air after such a tramp as they had at the dinner, walking miles, he believed, when half a one would have answered. Fanny wasn’t used to it, he knew, and she was so tired that she dropped her tray.

If Alex. had questioned himself closely he would have found that a great share of his concern was for Fanny, whose white face haunted him, and after revolving matters for a few minutes he came to a decision that dinner should not again be dragged out so long. The guests wanted to get through and the waitresses wanted to be through. They were human,—yes, very human,—and Sherry’s face came before him the most human of all, as it looked up from the débris on the floor, the lips quivering and tears in the great brown eyes.

“I’ll fix it so everybody will have a good time. I’ll see that Groves woman. She is the high cockalorum who orders things, and, by George, I hate to tackle her; there is something in her steel-gray eyes which makes a fellow feel small. I’ll see the _chef_ first. We are here for a good time and not to spend half of it at the table.”

When Alex. reached this decision the fans and tongues were in full sway on the piazzas and under the maple, and the iced lemonade had been brought out and the clatter of dishes had ceased, and he saw one or two white figures flitting towards an old woodbine-covered arbor, which was at a little distance in the rear of the house, and supposed to belong to the help. Nos. 2, 3 and 4 had started for it the moment their work was done, but Sherry lingered behind. She must see Mrs. Groves, who had not yet heard of the accident, as she was not in the kitchen when it happened, and no one had reported it. She had gone to the piazza seldom used by the guests, as it looked towards the stables. Her first dinner had been a great success, and so far as she knew Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 4 had done credit to her training. There had been no confusion or hurry, and it had occupied nearly two hours, as it ought. There had been seven courses, and to-morrow an eighth was to be added. On the whole, she was satisfied. It was better to be matron here than waitress at an eating-house on the Central Railroad, where she once was, and of which she had no very pleasant reminiscences. She was happy and was fanning herself complacently when Sherry appeared, and in a straightforward way told what she had done, but gave no reason for doing it. She dropped the tray and broke the plate and was sorry,—that was all, and she waited for Mrs. Groves to speak, standing very erect, with her hands locked together and the fingers working a little nervously.

Mrs. Groves was both angry and surprised, and she looked at Sherry as if the offence were so great that she could hardly do it justice.

“Broke a salad plate, and one of the best set!” she began at last, in a voice which made Sherry tremble for what might be coming next. “What possessed you to be so careless? Looking at the guests, no doubt, instead of attending to your business. I ought to discharge you, and will if such a thing occurs again. I shall deduct the price of the plate from your wages. Of course you expect to pay for it?”

“Certainly,” Sherry answered, “and for the whole set, too, if you cannot match it.”

“Have you any idea how much the whole set cost?” Mrs. Groves asked, and Sherry replied: “A great deal, I suppose. Fifty dollars, perhaps.”

“Fifty dollars!” and Mrs. Groves’s lips curled in scorn. “The plate was part of a dinner set which cost more than you can earn in several summers. It is not likely you can match it. You can only pay for the plate. I will see Mr. Marsh about it. Hereafter be more careful, and keep your eyes and mind on your business.”

Before Sherry could reply Alex. appeared upon the scene. He had interviewed the cook first and told him there were to be no more dinners two hours long, with his guests waiting half that time for dishes to be brought.

“’Tain’t my fault, sir,” the _chef_ said to him. “Everything is ready to your hand, but Mrs. Groves orders us that only one thing shall go in or out at a time and the girls must walk as if they was attendin’ their own funerals. Lord, sir, the way she’s drilled ’em is enough to kill cattle. You better see her.”

“I will,” Alex. answered, and, with a slight tremor, he started to find the lady who, the _chef_ said, was on the back piazza.

As Alex. reached the corner near which Mrs. Groves was sitting he caught the sound of Sherry’s voice, and, stopping, heard what passed between her and Mrs. Groves, his blood boiling as he listened and all his dread of Mrs. Groves disappearing.

“She will do nothing of the sort,” he said, coming forward. “Excuse me,” he continued, “I was coming to find Mrs. Groves and could not help hearing the conversation. Pay for a broken plate! I hope I am not so small as that.”

Mrs. Groves took off her eye-glasses and looked at the young man, while she said: “But, Mr. Marsh, it was one of the most expensive set, not a Haviland, and the servants ought to pay for what they break. They always did in General Walker’s family, where I lived three years.”

“I don’t care a picayune what they do in General Walker’s family, or whether the plate was Haviland, or Royal Worcester, or Dresden, or what it cost.” Alex. began gathering courage from Sherry’s eyes, which fairly danced and seemed to him to show different colors, a trick they had of doing when she was greatly pleased or excited.

She was both now, and the color came back to her face in bright waves as Alex. went on: “I shall have none of my broken ware paid for by my—” he was going to say “servants,” as Mrs. Groves had put that word into his mind, but a glance at Sherry stopped him, and he said, “By any young lady in my employ.”

Sherry’s eyes were like stars as they beamed upon him, while Mrs. Groves gave a kind of gasp, as if either the heat or the “young lady” were too much for her. With a wave of her hand she adjusted her glasses, and taking it for granted that she was dismissed, Sherry left Alex. to have it out with Mrs. Groves. There was an attempt on her part at an argument that the plate should be paid for as a warning to the other girls; otherwise every dish in the house might be broken or nicked before the season was over.

“Let them be nicked and broken. I can get more,” Alex. said, rather hotly for him, “and another thing I must speak of, I can’t have the dinners so long. Two mortal hours we were at the table to-night, and half that time we were waiting for plates and things to come in and go out one at a time. At this rate the day will be spent at the table.”

“What do you mean?” Mrs. Groves asked.

“Why, it is like this,” Alex. replied. “If four fresh plates are needed don’t bring them one at a time at a snail’s pace. It takes forever.”

“Do you want a big tray piled with dishes, as at a hotel or restaurant?” Mrs. Groves asked, and Alex. replied: “Of course not; there is a medium, and I want to save time as well as steps for these girls, who must have been fagged to death. The one who was just here, Fanny, I believe, is her name, was white as a sheet when she dropped her tray. I thought she was going to faint. Evidently she is not used to the work.”

There was a call for Alex. from one of the guests, and, with a bow, he walked away, feeling uncomfortable, as he always did when he had made anyone else so; but glad that the interview was over and he had taken the dragon by the horns.

Sherry meantime had gone to the summer-house, where she found Nos. 2 and 3 sitting upon the steps, and Polly, lying upon a seat inside, her feet crossed and her hands clasped under her head.

“Hello, No. 1,” she said, as Sherry appeared. “You still live, I see. What did she say? Did she give you the bounce?”

“No, only a promise of it if I offend again,” Sherry replied, as she took a seat upon the steps and began to inhale deep breaths of the cool air from the hills and to fan herself with her apron.

“I was never so dead tired in my life,” Polly began. “I wonder if any of you can guess how far we walked during the dinner. I have a pedometer my brother gave me, and I thought I’d wear it and know. Guess now.”

No. 3 said it seemed ten miles, No. 2 twenty, and Sherry fifty, judging from her feelings when she dropped the salad.

“All wrong, of course,” Polly said, sitting up and producing the pedometer. “It is six rods from the tables through the long dining-room and anteroom to the supplies in the kitchen,” she said, “and we went forward and back, forward and back, like you do in a cotillion, till we walked nearly two and a half miles,—enough to make a minister swear or sweat this hot day.”

“Oh-h!” came simultaneously from the three girls on the steps, each feeling more tired than before, and each thinking with dread of the next day and the miles which lay before her.

Naturally there was a discussion with regard to the guests and the Marshes and Alex., whom Polly pronounced “O. K.” She was the slangy one of the quartette, and kept them amused and laughing until the stable clock struck eleven, when they started for the house, which the _chef_ was beginning to shut up.

When alone in her room, Sherry stood a long time looking out upon the hills and valley bathed in the moonlight, and listening to the voices in front of the house calling good-night as the guests separated to their rooms. Alex. seemed to be everywhere, and the last Sherry heard he was saying to Charley Reeves, “Good-night, old chap, I hope we shall all have a good time. I mean you shall.” In Alex.’s voice there was a richness and a heartiness which always rang true, and Sherry’s last thought as she fell asleep was, “If all the world were like Mr. Marsh there would be no lack of good times.”