Letty's springtime

Introduction

As a small child Letty Grey has helped earn her share of the family income by taking part with her brother Ben in an acrobatic act, as told in “ Letty of the Circus.” After the death of her mother and brother, Letty is adopted by a well-to-do author, Mrs. Hartwell- Jones, who cultivates the girl’s voice and brings her up amidst happy surroundings and loving, admiring friends. This appears in two books, “ Letty and the Twins ” and “ Letty’s New Home.” By a happy accident, during a summer in England, described in “ Letty’s Sister,” Letty makes friends with “ a little lame lacemaker,” who turns out to be Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s own daughter, lost as a baby in shipwreck.

The united family live happily, but Mrs. Hartwell-Jones loses some of her money. However, old papers, supposedly valueless, which the circus manager had been guarding for Letty, a bequest from her brother — see 3

INTRODUCTION

“ Letty’s Treasure ” — fortunately materialize into a sufficient income to allow Letty to pursue her musical studies at the Conservatory, where she passes a somewhat discouraging winter among uncongenial people, but with enough kindness from Mr. Jack Beckwith and other old friends to prevent her from becoming too downcast. She sings at a Conservatory concert and scores a great success. These school-days are described in “ Letty’s Good Luck ” and “ Letty at the Conservatory.”

Illustrations

“ I’ll Read ”

PAGE

Frontispiece

The Girls Curled Up on the Sofa

• 75

The Audience Forgot to Guess

. . 148

She Mounted Quickly .

. . 204

“I Suppose There’s Something More ”

• 297

Chapter I

leila Huntington’s cousin

Leila Huntington had always shown a tendency to make friends with people older than herself, and this tendency was increased after her Western cousin, Ross Gilchrist, came to Princeton College as a student. He had entered the autumn before, but it had taken nearly the whole winter to become properly acquainted with his Eastern relatives, whom he had never met before.

Not that Ross was shy, but he did not realize at first how valuable to a student relatives living close at hand can be made. Ross was a tall, blond, good-looking boy, with a wide smile and breezy manners, a great favorite among his classmates and a skilful athlete. He had come to call upon his aunt and uncle 9 very promptly upon his arrival at Princeton — and was very careful to write the fact home to his mother. He seemed to think that that duty visit ended his obligations, and promptly forgot them.

At Thanksgiving time Mrs. Huntington reflected that her sister’s boy might feel lonely and perhaps homesick on his first holiday away from home, and invited him, in a cordial, affectionate note, to come and dine with them, and to stay the whole three days of his vacation. But Ross had accepted the invitation of his roommate to go to Philadelphia for the week-end, and it was nearly Christmas time before his mother succeeded in impressing upon him, through innumerable letters, that good manners compelled him to pay a “ bread-and-butter visit ” to his aunt.

Ross went and had a pleasant Sunday afternoon. Leila, who upon the occasion of his first visit had impressed him merely as an overgrown girl with a cold in her head, seemed more wide awake this time, and flattered Ross by her genuine interest in his college life. She giggled appreciatively at his rehearsal of experiences at Commons, and

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sympathized with his miseries when ragged by the sophomores.

Mrs. Huntington was quite horrified by his accounts of the food served the freshmen in Commons, and begged him to come to dinner every Sunday, and get at least one good and sufficient meal a week. Ross remained for Sunday night supper with the family and decided, if that were a sample of their regular menus, it would pay to accept his aunt's invitation.

“ They certainly can feed a fellow," he reported afterward to Jim Freeman, his roommate. “ As soon as I get a little more used to the family, I'll ask Aunt Laura if I may bring you around, too."

“ Thanks, but I don't believe I'll go, old man."

“ Why not, I'd like to know? I never knew a chap so fond of good eats as you."

“ But isn't there a girl? You said something about "

“ Ho, Leila ! You needn't be afraid of her. She’s only a kid. And a pretty nice one, too. Of course you've got to go, Jim, you idiot. Think of being sure of one good filling meal a week ! Why, it makes Commons seem almost bearable.”

“ Bat won’t your aunt think it cheeky, ringing me in on her? ”

“ Don’t you suppose I’ll know how to manage it? Of course you’ll have to go around and call with me some day, first, and we’ll lead the talk around to Commons — it won’t be hard to do — and you might let on that you had a weak digestion or something ”

“That wouldn’t do,” objected Jim. “If I gave that song and dance I’d have to live up to it and not eat much.”

“ No, that wouldn’t do. And it wouldn’t please my uncle, either.”

“Why? Does he object to people with weak digestions ? ”

“I should just guess he does. He likes to see folks eat heartily and enjoy themselves, he says. You just ought to see my uncle, Jim. I, guess he weighs most three hundred, and he’s jolly to match ; you know the style.”

“ Sounds promising. And you’re sure the girl’s only a kid ? ”

“Sure thing, with two pig-tails, just right l 3

to pull. They’re a pretty jolly family, Jim. You’ll miss it by not going.”

“Well, trot me around some time, old man, if you don’t mind.”

“ I’ll tell you what I’ll do. They’ve invited me there for the Christmas vacation. I’ll work your name in then, and right afterward we can begin our Sunday feeds.”

Ross carried out this programme faithfully, but felt a little like a traitor when he found how easily his aunt fell in with his scheme. He was sorry he had not gone straight to her, told her that he wanted to bring his chum, and explain frankly how both of them longed for home cooking. Instead, he hemmed and hawed, brought up Jim’s name again and again, remarked how kind Jim had been and how indebted to him Ross felt for various favors and, when his aunt suggested bringing the young man to call, assumed an air of gratified surprise for which he hated himself.

Ross became very well acquainted with his relatives during the Christmas holidays. The resemblance of his Aunt Laura to his mother, in speech and manner as well as looks, made him feel very much at home, and he found i4

Leila very companionable, after the first shyness had worn off, very companionable in spite of the pig-tails.

“ Say, kid, why don’t you turn those up in some way? ” he suggested one day, after Leila had endured more of his tweakings than usual. “ You’d not get teased so much by the fellows, when I bring ’em here to call.”

“Will Jim Freeman pull my braids?” asked Leila in trepidation.

“ Sure thing, if he gets a chance. It wouldn’t be human nature not to.”

“ Well, if he does he may expect to be well slapped for it.”

“ Oh, come, you aren’t going to make a stranger of Jim, are you ? Aunt Laura promised to treat him like one of the family. Why, he — I — want Jim to feel that he can come here every once in a while — say every Sunday, maybe — and get a jolly big feed, just like you give me. If you make him feel like a stranger he won’t feel like hustling the grub — I mean, like eating so much. He’d have to have his company manners with him, and behave like a gentleman. That’s not the way to treat a member of the family, you know.”

*5

Leila pondered his words, and decided to take his advice about her braids, rather to her mother’s dismay, for Mrs. Huntington considered that her little girl was already too old in her ways. But she had to admit that the change was very becoming, and permitted Miss Brown, the dressmaker who had made Leila’s clothes since she was a baby, to lengthen her skirts another inch.

Leila also conveyed to her mother a hint of the manner in which Ross wished his chum treated by the Huntington family, a mode of treatment for which it was unnecessary to sue, since they were a most informal and hospitable family, Mr. Huntington’s social motto being, “ the more the merrier.”

So, when Jim made his first call, under the patronizing wing of Ross, he found the experience very far indeed removed from an ordeal, and Mrs. Huntington’s motherly insistence that they should stay for supper so sincere that Jim accepted with alacrity. The one embarrassing moment of the whole charming visit was his introduction to Leila who, with her upturned braids and bashful reserve, appeared quite the young lady. The only revenge Jim took at the moment was to affect an unconsciousness of Ross’s close proximity behind him and give a backward step that bruised that young gentleman’s toes most unmercifully.

“ That isn’t the way to treat a friend who’s letting you in on a good thing,” Ross accused him on the way home.

“ But you told me she was only a kid.”

“ So she is.”

“ With two pig-tails.”

“ So she had — until to-day. I never saw her with ’em turned up like that,” replied Ross virtuously, refraining from telling his friend at whose suggestion Leila had turned up the pig-tails.

Ross’s mother was delighted at the cordial way in which her sister had taken her boy into the bosom of the family, and wrote at length upon the subject and begged her sister to keep a strict eye upon Ross and his associates.

“ I am sure he has good sense and good taste both, in the matter of selecting friends,” she wrote, “ but it is so easy for a boy to fall under bad influences so far away from home and home training. It would be a great comfort to me to know that you are in touch, not only with Ross himself, but his friends. I am glad he and Leila hit it off so nicely. Perhaps > it would amuse her, as well as be good for Ross, if you could have an occasional gathering of young people at the house. Am I imposing too far on a sister's prerogative ? But you see I am so far away, and it is so hard for me to do anything myself. When you bring Leila out here I promise to give her a better time than she could dream of — these Western people are so warm-hearted and hospitable. If any one in the town has a guest, the whole town feels it necessary to give that guest a good time. So if you and Leila befriend Ross during these next four winters, and then will come out here for your reward, I hope to make it up to you."

There was much more in the letter, of course, but this paragraph Mrs. Huntington read aloud to Leila, and was secretly astonished, as well as rather amused, to see how eagerly she took to the idea of some sort of a party.

“ But I thought you always hated parties," exclaimed her mother. “ I can remember a time when you actually cried when I said you must accept an invitation.”

“ But that was ages ago, and at some one’s else house. I have Ross to back me up now.”

“ And your hair turned up, to add to your sense of dignity,” teased her mother.

But she understood Leila’s meaning ; the relief of having some one else to think of to take away any sense of self-consciousness, and she was glad that her shy, lonely little girl was beginning to take an interest and enjoyment in the people about her.

The project of a party was put before the boys at the next Sunday dinner and was hailed with hurrahs of delight.

“ Bully for you, Aunt Laura ! ” cried Ross. “That kind of a hallelujah will just be the saving of us fellows. February and March are the dickens to get through, aren’t they, Jim? What with the exams and the beastly weather, we nearly go out of our minds.”

“ That’s right,” agreed Jim. “ We haven’t any way of blowing off steam. The skating’s over and the field practice hasn’t begun yet. Gee, it’s fierce sometimes — I beg your pardon,”

he stammered, overcome by sudden embarrassment at Mrs. Huntington’s expression.

But she only burst out laughing and Mr. Huntington said heartily :

“ Never mind, my boy, we want you to have 4 all the comforts of home ’ here. Only just remember you have a young lady to whom must be held up the chivalry of gentlemen. Now, how about this party ? ”

“ I’m afraid it can’t be a dancing party,” observed Mrs. Huntington. “We must remember that Lent begins next week.”

Leila’s face fell, for how could she entertain without dancing?

44 What can we do, then ? ” she asked a little helplessly.

44 Oh, lots of things,” Ross assured her. “ We can have charades, or things to guess, or a 4 stunts ’ party.”

44 What is a 4 stunts ’ party ? ”

44 Why, each person has to do a stunt — speak a piece, or sing or do a fancy dance, you know. Lots of the fellows know fine stunts. Alfred Harrison, one of the fellows in our class, is a prime prestidigitator.’*

44 And Jack Lenox is a ventriloquist,”

chimed in Jim. “Don’t you remember the night he fooled all us fellows into thinking Professor Jenks was coming? ”

“ Oh, what fun ; tell me about it,” laughed Leila.

Jack Lenox and his accomplishment were discussed for a few moments, and then the question arose as to who should be asked to the party.

Leila looked dismayed. She knew so few girls.

“ Who was that girl you had out in the automobile one day — some time ago ? ” asked Ross, in what he vainly endeavored to make a casual tone.

He endeavored to elucidate, in answer to a shower of questions as to time, place and appearance, and he and Jim exchanged sheepish grins.

“ It was — well, pretty long ago,” he said slowly, as if trying to remember, and at last was obliged to admit that it had been before the holidays.

“ How long before, Jim ? ” he referred Leila’s question to his friend, determined to bring him into the controversy.

“ Well — ah — it was before the game — I guess it was the Thanksgiving holidays, Ross.”

“Who could it have been, Leila?” asked her father with a twinkle in his eyes. “ She must have been a particularly attractive young lady to have remained in their memory so long — after a single look, as it were.”

“ It was a good long stare, sir — at least at the whole party,” Ross declared in self-defense. “ You see, there was an empty seat in the car, and I was feeling a bit homesick and — and Aunt Laura looked uncommonly like mother in her fur coat and — well, it was like my own folks passing me by.”

“ Poor boy ! With all those sentiments to contend against, how did you have a chance to — to see the young lady ? ” teased Mr. Huntington, but his wife was touched.

“ You poor child,” she exclaimed pityingly. “ Why didn't you call out to us, and come along? ”

“ I was too bashful, ma'am,” declared Ross coolly. “ So I just stared.”

“ No wonder you stared,” put in the matter-of-fact Leila, “ for it must have been Letty Grey with us. Don't you remember, Mother, the day she and Mademoiselle La Grange spent with us just before Thanksgiving time ? ”

“ Of course we remember,” agreed her father promptly, “ and we have all of us looked forward to her coming again. We’re still hoping, too, aren’t we, boys ? ”

“ You bet, sir,” agreed Ross and Jim enthusiastically, responding with delighted grins to Mr. Huntington’s comprehensive wink.

“ Letty Grey would be the very one for the party,” Leila said, “ if we could only get her to come, but I know she won’t. She never has any day but Sunday free.”

“ Good gracious, what does she do ? ” ejaculated Ross. “ She didn’t look old enough to — to be a stenographer or anything like that.”

“ She sings,” replied Leila solemnly. “ She is studying at the Conservatory of Music in New York, and works awfully hard. She’s trying for some sort of a scholarship in which attendance counts for a lot, and she can’t be induced to miss a single day,” and Leila sighed, for Letty’s presence at a party would have been a great feather in her cap.

“ There’s no harm in trying,” Ross assured

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her hopefully. “ Perhaps a bit later she may come up. Tell her what an inducement you have to offer her, hey, Jim? We’ll trot up all the best lookers in the class, won’t we ? ”

“ Sure thing, with yours truly in the front row.”

Every one laughed and Leila said, as they all followed Mrs. Huntington into the other room :

“ I’ll write to Letty Grey to-night.”

Chapter II

Letty Grey sat straight up in bed with an exceedingly startled expression. She gave an odd, gurgling sort of gasp and stared about her as if she thought herself in strange surroundings. Then she scrambled into a wrapper and knocked at Mademoiselle La Grange’s door, with whom Letty lived. Mademoiselle, herself nearly dressed, opened the door in surprise.

“Why, Letty, ma chere, what is it? You look as if you had seen a — what is it — a ghost ! ”

“ I have, Mademoiselle,” replied Letty in a sepulchral whisper, and Mademoiselle stared, not knowing whether she was in fun or earnest.

Letty solved her doubts by suddenly bursting into tears, and Katy the maid, who was setting the breakfast table, came running into the small corridor to see what had happened, 24

In a sobbing, croaking whisper, Letty explained her trouble.

“ Oh, Mademoiselle, I have lost my voice ! Isn’t it terrible I Whatever in the world shall I do ! Do you think it’s — gone forever? I ” A violent fit of coughing in-

terrupted her.

For one frightened, dismayed moment, Mademoiselle La Grange and the maid stared at each other, then Mademoiselle set herself to the task of soothing Letty’s fears.

“ Ma cherie, it is nothing so terrible as you would suggest. It is a touch of laryngitis, n'est ce pas f Very uncomfortable and disagreeable, but not — not serious, Letty.”

“ Not serious ! ” echoed Letty in an indignant croak that would have been funny if she had not been in such tragic earnest. “ Oh, what shall I do! What shall Ido!” And she fell to sobbing again.

“ Why, I’d send for the doctor, sure and that’s what I’d do, mem,” remarked Katy practically.

Katy, who had lived for several years with Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, Letty Grey’s “ adopted mother,” and was a devoted servant, could not bear to see her beloved young mistress in such grievous trouble. She stood in the doorway, wrapping her hands in and out of her apron nervously, and striving to check her own impulsive Irish flow of tears.

“ Dr. Hey wood is out of town ! ” exclaimed Mademoiselle with a fresh pang of dismay. “ Whatever shall we do, Letty chere?”

Letty’s sobbing was checked by a second violent fit of coughing.

“ Oh, oh,” she choked, “ if only it could have happened yesterday, while Aunt Mary was still here. Whatever shall I do ! I am so miserable ! Oh, oh ! ” And she sobbed and coughed wretchedly.

The Saturday evening previous Letty had sung in one of the periodic concerts given by the Conservatory of Music, of which she was a student. She had worked hard and long in preparation for that concert, and had been on a nervous strain for several weeks. Her mother by adoption, whom Letty called “ Aunt Mary,” and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones’s own daughter, Violet, had come up from their cottage in Lakewood to be present at the concert, and Letty had spent the night with them at their hotel. Mr. Jack Beckwith, a great friend of the family, had given a very delightful, merry supper party after the concert and although Letty had been one of the merriest guests present, she had looked very tired.

Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and Violet had taken on Sunday a somewhat earlier train back to Lakewood than they had originally planned, because Mrs. Hartwell-Jones had thought Letty looking over-tired, and was anxious that she should have a good rest before returning to her Conservatory work on Monday. She had noticed Letty’s feverish look, and marked the slight huskiness of voice, but had believed it entirely due to her extreme fatigue, which nothing but complete rest could cure.

In reality, it had been the beginning of the attack of laryngitis, within the clutches of which Letty woke on that memorable Monday morning to find herself. Mademoiselle La Grange, whose French nature took every responsibility heavily, soon recovered from her panic of helplessness, and telephoned the doctor. Although Dr. Heywood himself was out of town, his assistant, she knew, was very able, and within half an hour Letty was under his charge, inhaling steam of benzoin tincture, holding ice bags to her throat and obeying strictly every instruction.

Mademoiselle had to hurry off to her own duties, but Katy made a most faithful nurse, and did her best to prevent her young mistress from worrying over her condition.

“ I suppose it is fate, Katy,” Letty whispered ruefully. “ It is what Madame Henri always feared for me, you know. I’ll never forget the time I got buried in the snow-drift, out at Sunnycrest, and her horror when I told her about it.”

“ Yes, I remember,” responded Katy with a reminiscent giggle. “ But please, Miss Letty, the doctor said as how you mustn’t try to talk.”

“ Oh, Katy, if only I could talk, I wouldn’t try. But I didn’t lose my voice the time I got wet in the drift ; why do you suppose I have lost it now ? I didn’t take cold anywhere.”

“ Sure and the doctor said you must have got a bit of a cold somewhere,” urged Katy reasonably. “ Does the ice bag want refillin’?”

Letty shook her head, resolving to obey the doctor's mandate in regard to talking. Indeed, it made her throat ache to attempt to make any sound at all. But she had to give vent to one more moan.

“ It’s all up with the scholarship now," she choked, winking back the tears of disappointment that would overflow.

During all the uncomfortable week that followed this was the affliction that tormented her most, and nothing any one said could convince her to the contrary. Letty had got the impression so firmly fixed in her mind that uninterrupted attendance was one of the conditions of winning a certain scholarship for which she was competing, that she felt that a day's absence imperilled her chances. What hope was there, then, after missing a whole week ?

Of course there were compensations. The chief of these was the prompt return of Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, who installed herself as chief nurse.

“ Oh, Aunt Mary, Aunt Mary, how glad I am to see you ! How thankful ! I was just feeling as if the bottom had dropped out of everything," sobbed Letty in her choking whis-

3 o LETTT’S SPRINGTIME

per. “ But Aunt Mary, ought you to have come ? ”

“ Of course I ought. Why, Letty mine, how could you ask such a question ! To think of my precious daughter being ill and me not by to do what I can to help her ! ”

“ But what about Violet-Mary ? ”

“ She is perfectly safe and happy with Miss Emerson. Now, Letty darling, you remember what the doctor said about talking. See, I have brought a small pad and pencil, which are to stay on this table beside your bed, and you must write everything you want to say. It is a bit of a nuisance, perhaps, but will be much better in the end. The doctor says your voice will come back much more quickly the less you use it now. You run a risk of straining it, you know.”

Letty took the pad and wrote on it, in a rebellious spirit :

“ I don’t see that it matters much now. I can’t go on with my work at the Conservatory for ages.”

Mrs. Hartwell-Jones read the little message and restrained a smile. She knew just what bitterness of spirit Letty was experiencing.

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“ Yes, but even ‘ ages’ will pass, you know, darling, and there is all the ‘ after that ’ to work in.”

“ But I shall have no chance now for the scholarship.”

“ Don’t lose heart so easily, dear. You have until May.”

“ But attendance is one of the conditions.”

“ But not every condition, Letty mine. I doubt if you’ll find any pupil who has attended every lesson, and your record has been wonderful, so far. You must make up for this temporary absence by better work.”

“I can’t do better work than those pupils who give their whole time to it,” Letty wrote dismally. “And I’ll have all my lessons at Miss Sims’s to make up, too.” She put down her pencil and began to cry nervously. Then the foolishness of this mode of conversation, her written messages and Mrs. Hartwell- Jones’s spoken replies, appealed to her sense of humor, and she laughed instead. Taking the pad again, she wrote :

“ This looks exactly like a conversation over the telephone sounds.”

The laughter did her good and she tried to take a more cheerful view of her situation.

As she grew better, visitors were allowed to drop in for short calls, always with the proviso that Letty write every word of her side of the conversation. Mary Beckwith came, bringing news of school, and countless messages from all the girls, and Martha Simmons dropped in occasionally on her way home from the Conservatory. Martha could never stay long, she was so busy, and never had much news, but her visits pleased Letty. It is always pleasant to have one’s friends remember one, but it is sweetest of all to have them thoughtful and attentive when one is ill.

Another faithful visitor was Mr. Jack Beckwith, Mary’s older brother, but his coming did not bring the atmosphere of gayety that Letty had been accustomed to associate with “ Mr. Jack.” The fact was that that gentleman was laboring under heavy cares of his own, which he could not always shake off. He always came laden down with gifts — mostly books, and Letty declared that she would have to buy a new bookcase to hold them all. Whereupon Mr. Jack replied with perfect gravity that next time he would have to bring a bookcase.

But though he sat down beside Letty’s couch and scribbled nonsensical messages on her pad, and pretended that he, too, was dumb, just to see what it felt like, it was easy to see that he was not in his usual good spirits, and Letty wondered. She could hear him and Mrs. Hartwell-Jones in the other room, talking long and earnestly, and while she was still feeling depressed about her illness, suffered qualms of nervous terror lest her condition was more serious than she had been allowed to believe, and they were discussing the probable chances of her never regaining her voice.

As she grew better, and her voice began to strengthen gradually, Letty lost most of her apprehensions, but she did not wonder the less what was the subject of those long, grave talks between Mr. Jack and her dear Aunt Mary. Sometimes she was afraid it was money matters that worried them. But Mrs. Hartwell-Jones never alluded to the private interviews, and of course Letty never asked.

One afternoon, when Letty was so much better that she thought she ought to begin persuading her Aunt Mary to go back home, Mr. Jack came in again after his talk with Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and sitting down beside Letty’s couch, said he had an announcement to make.

“ I have been telling ‘ Aunt Mary/ Letty, that it is necessary for me to go out West again on that tiresome business, and I have been urging upon her the kindness of granting me one last big favor. I want to have a house party, but it won’t be successful unless I can have all the guests I particularly want. I have, after a great deal of persuasion and some argument — but all, I hope, of a friendly nature,” he added, smiling across at Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, “ succeeded in convincing her how really essential this little plan is to my whole future happiness.”