"here's a bit of bread for you, rob, my son," called mr. grey from his doorway, waving an envelope alluringly toward rob, who was on her knees dusting the stairs.
"bread? i'm not hungry, patergrey; besides, it looks too white to be well baked. what do you mean? something nice, by the way you're beaming at me." and rob arose from her humble posture to go to her father and investigate.
"it is bread—bread-on-the-waters, my girl," mr. grey retorted. "it is the first interest on the money you lent me."
"the machine?" cried rob, trying to seize the letter which her father held tantalizingly above her head. "oh, tell me quick if it is the machine."
"it is the machine. but we mustn't expect too much," mr. grey hastily added. "it is by[167] no means sold, nor even appraised. this letter is from a man in new york who is interested in such things, and he writes that he is coming to fayre the day after to-morrow to look into my improvements in bricquette making. that's all, but it is a beginning, and that's something in itself."
"it's a lot!" cried sanguine rob. "what shall we have for dinner that day? have you told mardy?"
"i have but just come in," said her father, laughing aloud. "what a practical girl! and how truly her instinct guides her to the wisdom of feeding well the man whom you wish to impress! do the best you can with the dinner, robin, and maybe he won't discover defects in the invention."
"there is none," retorted rob, going off with a skip and a jump to impart the news to her mother and wythie, and consult with them on ways and means.
the second day dawned clear and cold and brought with it, on the noon train, the anxiously awaited arbitrator of the fate of the bricquette machine.
mr. grey went to the station to meet him, and wythie, rob, and prue watched their approach[168] to the little grey house from behind the muslin curtains in their chamber.
there was an air of assurance and power about the stranger which filled wythie with fear of his judgment, and inspired rob with confidence.
"of course he will approve the machine if he knows what he's about," said rob, "and he most certainly looks as though he knew."
dinner was served at once, and mr. marston—by this name mr. grey presented his guest to his wife and daughters—mr. marston was enthusiastic in word and deed over his pleasure in what, he said, he never found in the city—old-fashioned, home cooking, prepared by the hands of ladies.
"you really have no business with a successful invention, mr. grey," said the guest—"you who are already so rich." and he smiled up into prue's face, who had risen to remove his plate, with a look that conveyed his high sense of her value, and so embarrassed the child that she dropped his knife and fork with a clatter.
"i don't like him," rob confided to wythie, when their father had borne mr. marston away for a preliminary smoke—like his colonial ancestors dealing with the connecticut aborigines—leaving the girls with their mother to their task[169] of clearing away. "i don't like him—he's too good to be true—but if he only will like the machine my likings and dislikes don't matter."
later rob's father called her, and she went to help in displaying the invention which she almost felt was as much hers as her father's.
silently she moved the parts of the machine, co-operating with her father as he talked, and silently the visitor watched the proceedings, stroking his mustache and letting nothing escape his keen eyes, as rob saw, while she, in her turn, sharply, though furtively, eyed the impassive face concealing its owner's verdict on the greys' hopes.
at last the exposition of the machine was over, and rob busied herself with replacing the covers of the models, while her father and mr. marston dropped into neighboring chairs for its discussion.
"it's unquestionably a good thing, mr. grey," the visitor said. "the improvements are important, and, what is more, practical. i feel that i have no right to say anything definite until i have seen my partner, but i am perfectly within bounds in saying that i am thoroughly convinced as to the value of your patent, and that we shall be ready to make you an offer for it. at the[170] same time i should be glad if you will not show it to anyone else until that offer has been made and discussed; i should like to retain an option on the machine."
"when i wrote you, mr. marston, and allowed you to come here to see the invention, i considered it equivalent to a pledge not to allow anyone else to see what might become your property, and would be valueless to you if it were not protected," said mr. grey, quietly.
rob waited to hear no more. she ran from the room, and caught wythie and kiku in a comprehensive embrace, meeting them as they came, one in the other's arms, across the hall.
"it's all right, it's all right, oswyth, saint and martyr!" she cried, whirling wythie around, and sending kiku leaping, panic-stricken by her onslaught, to the top of the portière at the door. "he says he's thoroughly convinced of the value of the patent, and he asks patergrey to keep it for him till he can consult with his partner as to the offer they mean to make for it. oh, i knew, i knew all along it was coming right, but now it has come right, i'm ready to die of joy."
wythie turned so white that rob held her closer for another reason, fearing she was going to faint. "we must find mardy," was all[171] wythie said, but her smile was so beatific that rob was more than satisfied.
when mr. grey came back from the station, where he had been to speed his guest, he found his household waiting him, half delirious with joy.
"it's all right now, isn't it, patergrey?" cried rob. "there's no danger in our being as glad as we please, is there? it's sure and sure that the invention will go, isn't it? that man settled it, didn't he?"
"no risk at all in rejoicing, mary," said mr. grey, disregarding rob, and answering the girl's question to his wife, to whom he held out his arms with smiling, quivering lips, and eyes bright at once with joy and tears.
"will it be much, sylvester?" asked mrs. grey, still afraid to be glad.
"the offer? it will not be less than fifty thousand, if it is to be accepted, mary; that will put the grey family into brighter colors, and free the little grey house of its burden again," said mr. grey, stroking his wife's abundant hair. "and, rob," he added, as the girls caught their breath with a gasp of ecstasy, "make a note of the name of john lester baldwin, and his address on broadway, in new york. i will give[172] it to you, and i want you to remind me to write him—he was a college chum of mine, an honest man and a good lawyer. i mean to take his advice as to the patent; i would trust it utterly."
rob obediently made the memorandums on a pad, and her father straightened himself, taking a long breath. "it is a curious sensation to have succeeded, after so long," he said. "i hardly know how to adjust myself to it."
rob and wythie exchanged glances, noting with the anxiety they always felt for the dear father's safety, the dilation of his bright eyes and his quickened breath.
"you have done enough, patergrey," cried rob. "you have made the machine, and we'll do the adjusting, never fear! mayn't i ask the boys and frances down to-night to rejoice with us, mardy? and won't you get your hat and coat and go with me to invite them, patergrey? the fresh air will bring us both to our senses—i feel as though my head were a thistle in september."
"we should all be better for the boys and frances, rob," said her mother, and at the same moment mr. grey said: "yes, let's have the young folks in, and play twirl the platter, and make molasses candy, and have a real, children's[173] party—i feel as though i wanted to get down to a basis of pure jollity and be thoroughly a boy, now that for the first time in years i feel the pressure of care lightened."
"then get your hat—why, here come the boys now! then i can't go, patergrey! suppose you and mardy take a walk instead, and we'll keep battalion b to supper, and i'll make them get it!" cried rob.
"it would be pleasant, mary, to celebrate by a stroll together; we don't get one of our all-to-ourselves times very often," smiled mr. grey. "let's leave our girls to prepare our triumphal banquet, and pretend we're young lovers again, with no tall girls to bother us."
mrs. grey laughed happily, and almost ran away to get ready for her walk, and soon she was leaning on her husband's arm, and the three girls were watching her as she laughed up into his face, as they strolled in the direction of miss charlotte's to bring her the glad tidings of the coming of prosperity to the little grey house.
"see how young and happy mardy looks," sighed wythie. "only think, if she will look like that all the time! do you suppose, can it be, girls—and boys—that this isn't too good to be true?"
[174]
"it's just barely good enough for you to be true," said bruce. "we don't believe that only bad things happen outside of books, do we, rob?"
"no, sir; we believe only in good things—even when the bad ones happen!" declared rob. "tommy tucker sang for his supper, but if you two big fellows want yours you've got to chop wood for kindling, or you won't get it. and, bart, would you mind very, very much if you were asked most politely to go and fetch frances?"
"yes, i'd mind, because i like to be around when you're fussing, but i'm willing to offer myself a sacrifice, if nobody else will," said bartlemy, looking around for his hat.
poor bartlemy could not hurry frances sufficiently to get back to the little grey house before supper was ready, and "the fun over," as he grumblingly said. rob patted his head like a big dog's. "never mind, bartie dear," she said, soothingly, "you shall wash all the greasiest pans!"
"what shall we do to celebrate?" asked prue, when everything was cleared away, and the dining-room table rolled to the wall to allow games.
"i'll tell you," cried mr. grey, with an inspiration. "let's rifle the attic and invoke our an[175]cestors to enjoy with us the prospect of securing to future greys this little house they loved. we know what treasures there are in the chests and horse-hair trunks up there, don't we, girls?"
"oh, you never saw our old-fashioned clothing!" cried wythie. "why, that's the very thing, papa! get lamps, boys, and come up to the attic. we'll dress up and have an old-folks' concert, just for ourselves. you never saw such things as we have up there!"
older and younger, all the greys with their four guests, and lamps enough to light the party, and with kiku-san on behind, hoping for mice, repaired to the attic.
a pleasant musty odor of dried herbs, camphor, and cedar-wood greeted them, and queer shadows wavered big on the slanting walls to meet them.
"what a fine place!" exclaimed basil. "why don't we come here oftener?"
mrs. grey produced her keys and threw open chest after chest, and wythie, rob, and prue, with enthusiastic help from frances, began shaking out garments of more than a hundred years ago, as well as the big skirts and poke-bonnets of the '50s.
huge embroidered collars, long, hand[176]wrought lace veils, brocaded silks, frail with age; gigantic leghorn bonnets; short, much-shirred waists; high stocks for men, ruffled shirts, tight, short-waisted blue coats; the high, pointed collars in which our grandfathers did penance in the days of "tippecanoe"; grotesque high and narrow beaver hats, and broad ones of white silk, all these were brought forth into the flickering light amid shouts of laughter and impatient clutches from hands eager to try the effect of something that particularly struck an individual fancy.
"no fair trying on up here," cried prue, at last. "we must take everything we want downstairs, and fit ourselves out there; we'll never get down this way."
so everybody piled all that one pair of arms could carry into a great heap, and each one lifted his burden and carefully picked the way down the narrow, steep stairs, made particularly uncertain by the wavering lamp-light.
"now, ladies to the right; gentlemen to the left," ordered wythie. "you go into your room, papa, with the boys, and mardy and frances shall come into ours with us, and we'll do our best. don't i wish you had wigs with queues!"
[177]
it took nearly three-quarters of an hour of excited hurrying and much laughter from both sides of the hall before the impromptu fancy-dress party was robed, and then at a signal nine queer figures appeared in two lines, and stopped short, each convulsed at the sight of the other.
mr. grey, in knee-breeches and cocked hat of an earlier period, was more imposing but not nearly as funny as bruce in the costume of the '30s, nor as basil, portentously scowling between the sharp collar-points like those which served as gateways to daniel webster's eloquence.
bartlemy, in a long-tailed, short-waisted black coat which must have belonged to some clerical grey, and with an incongruous white-silk hat, was so funny that prue forgot her frail, rose-besprinkled muslin, and sat straight down on the floor to laugh at him. wythie had found a muslin frock, short and tucked-in skirt and waist, and slippers such as jane austen's heroines tripped about in, and her pretty face was framed in a big leghorn hat, tied down into a poke at back and front. she looked as if she had stepped out of a sir joshua reynolds portrait.
rob had made herself into a lady of revolu[178]tionary days, hair high, and gown of brocade low in neck, and draped with an immense embroidered fichu. prue's muslin did not much antedate the civil war, but frances had arrayed herself in a gown which dolly madison would have recognized as the latest fashion had she come to life to see it.
mrs. grey seemed to have taken what no one else wanted, but nothing else that she had on mattered much while she wore the great pink gauze turban which crowned her hair.
"it's a real pity no one can see us," declared frances, when they were mustered in the dining-room, and had dropped, breathless with laughter, into the old chairs which should have welcomed gladly the figures of their youth returning to them.
"we'll get up a real affair, give an old folks' concert or something, in costume—we'd have a great one," cried bruce. "will you, say toward spring?"
"very likely," said rob, "but what are we going to do now, this minute?"
"you are going to dance," said mrs. grey. "i'm going to play for you, and if our piano is old and thin, then you must remember that it is in old-time costume also, and not mind."
[179]
"we can have a fine square-dance," cried prue. "just four couples—papa, will you dance?"
"will i? will i not?" mr. grey cried, gayly. "whose patent are we celebrating, i'd like to know? rob and i are head couple."
he gave his hand to rob, basil and wythie took one side, bruce and frances the other, while tall bartlemy and prue fell together, as they usually did.
mrs. grey played, concealing as well as she could, with her fine touch and real talent, time's ravages on the queer, yellow-keyed old piano.
"now sing," ordered mr. grey, when, the dance over, he dropped weary, but happy, into a chair. the quaint figures with the flushed young faces gathered about the old piano, and sang as they were bidden, sang until the clock in the hall startled them by striking eleven.
"why, i had no idea of the time!" cried frances. "mamma will think i'm stolen. i must hurry and get into my present-day things and fly home. we've had a lovely time, dear grey people! there never was a place where people had so much fun without trying, and because they couldn't help it, as in the little grey house."
"and there never was a place where good luck[180] was more needed, nor where people were more grateful for hearing that it had come to them, than in the little grey house to-day," added rob, as she wound her arm around her friend's waist, and bore her away to her room.
"oh, rob," said frances, "and oh, wythie," she added, turning back to include wythie in the caress she gave rob, "you know how glad i am of what that man told you! it's well you do, for i can't begin to tell you how glad i am. isn't it perfectly blessed?"
"it's the beginning of the end of our troubles, that's all it is, francie," said rob. "this isn't the little grey house to-night; it's pandora's box, with everything bad flying out, and only hope left."
