xt715d8ncr1w https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt715d8ncr1w/data/mets.xml Leonard, Mary Finley, 1862- 1903  books b92-253-31804898 English W.A. Wilde, : Boston ; Chicago : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Pleasant Street partnership  : a neighborhood story / by Mary F. Leonard ; illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. text Pleasant Street partnership  : a neighborhood story / by Mary F. Leonard ; illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. 1903 2002 true xt715d8ncr1w section xt715d8ncr1w 
The Pleasant Street Partnership
 


















    BOOKS BY MARY F. LEONARD.


THE SPECTACLE MAN. A STORY OF THE MISS-
  ING BRIDGE. 266 pages. Cloth. i.oo.

MR. PAT'S LITTLE GIRL. A STORY OF THE
  ARDEN FORESTERS. 322 pages. Cloth. 1.50.

THE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP. A
  NEIGHBORHOOD STORY. 269 pages. Cloth.

 This page in the original text is blank.


 


































































A SMALL BOY .... STOOD SURVEYING THEM
       WITH GREAT COMPOSURE

 



The



Pleasant Street Partnership


     A Neighborhood Story



        By

Mary F. Leonard



Illustrated by
Frank T. Merrill



W. A. WILDE COMPANY



BOSTON



CH ICAGO

 























           Capyright, July, r9O3,
       By W. A. W\rILDE COMPANY.

            All rights reserved.


THE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP.

 
















To Cbarlotte

 This page in the original text is blank.


 













CONTENTS



A WAVE OF IMPROVEMENT

WHAT SHALL WE CALL IT

AN ALIEN  .   .

MISS WILBUR

THE SHOP

IN THE EYES OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD

A SPOOL OF TWIST

A MATTER OF LOYALTY

IN THE SHOP

ALEXINA   .   .

THE LAST STRAW

THE DISCOVERY

AFTERWARD

MRS. MILLARD DEPARTS

GIANT DESPAIR

CHARLOTTE

AN EVENING CALL

THE ADVENTURES OF A BIRTHDAY CA

TEA AND TALK

MERRY HEARTS

THE RICH MISS CARPENTER

                7



      PAGE
      II

    .  21

    .  24

    .  35

 . 42

       50

    .  6o

   .  72

    .  82

    .  90

    .  98

    . 107

    . 115

    . 121

    . 129

    . 138

    . 146

LKE . 156

    . 166

    . 175

    . 185



CHAPTER
    I.

    II.

  III.

  IV.

  V.

  VI.

  VII.

  VIII.

  IX.

  X.

  XI.

  XII.

  XIII.

  XIV.

  Xv.

  XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

  XX.

  XXI.

 




8



CONTENTS



CHAPTER
XXII. VALENTINES

XXIII. NEIGHBORS

XXIV. WAYLAND .

  XXV. THE PRICE OF A BOND

  XXVI. NORAH'S ARK

XXVII. AN ANNIVERSARY

XXVIII. WHAT IT MEANT

XXIX. A LETTER .

  XXX. CHANGES .



PAGE
. 192

. 203

  2I5

. 222

. 229

. 236

. 248

. 253

. 262


 















             ILLUSTRATIONS.

                                                  PAGE
"A small boy ... stood surveying them with great
   composure " .   .    .    .   .   Frontispiiece 17

" Securely intrenched behind the lace curtain, she lev-
    elled her glass ".   .    .   .    .    .   .6

"' She sank into a chair ".   .        .    .   . log

" James Mandeville's taste was exacting"  .  .  . 194



9

 This page in the original text is blank.


 






The



Pleasant Street Partnership

          a Neigbborboob Storp


            CHAPTER FIRST

          A WAVE OF IMPROVEMENT

PLEASANT STREET was regarded by the
    Terrace as merely an avenue of approach
to its own exclusive precincts.  That Pleasant
Street came to an end at the Terrace seemed to
imply that nothing was to be gained by going
farther; and if you desired a quiet, substantial
neighborhood, -none of your showy modern
houses on meagre lots, but spacious dwellings,
standing well apart from each other on high
ground,-you found it here.
  It could not be denied that the Terrace was
rather far down town. Around it the busy city
was closing in, with its blocks of commonplace
houses, its schools and sanitariums, its noisy car
                     l  

 


12   TIHE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP



lines, until it SCCled(l but a question of a few
years when it would l)C CngLilfcd in a wave of
mediocrity.  Fashion had long ago turned her
face in another direction, and yet in a way the
Terrace held its own.  It could boast of some
wvealth, and more distinguished grandfathers were
to be heard of within its small area than in the
length and breadth of Dean Avenue.
  Its residents felt for each other that friendli-
ness born of long association.  Some of the
best people of the town had built their homes
here between thirty and forty years ago, and a
comparison of directories would have shown
a surprising proportion of the old names still
represented.
  Perhaps no one thing contributes more to a
sense of dignity than long residence in one house,
and it was natural enough that the Terrace should
shrug its shoulders at the row of toy dwellings
that sprang up almost magically on Pleasant
Street.  That this thoroughfare, so long given
over to side yards and vacant lots, was showing
a disposition to improve, was a matter of no con-
cern to the Terrace until unexpectedly its own
territory was invaded.

 


A \WAVE OF IMPROVEMENT   13



  On the northeast corner of the Terrace and
Pleasant Street there had long stood a cottage.
In the midst of a large lot, with fine shade-trees
around it and a beautifully kept lawvn, it had
never seemed out of place among its more pre-
tentious neighbors; but now upon the death of
its owner the property was divided into three
lots and offered for sale. What this might mean
was at first hardly realized, until one day men
were discovered to be at work on the corner,
digging a foundation.
  Upon inquiry it developed that a drug store
wvas to be built.  The neighborhood did not
like this, but felt on the whole it might have
been worse, - this conclusion, as Wayland Leigh
pointed out later on, being founded on the mis-
taken hypothesis that all drug stores are pretty
much alike.
  It happened that the druggist had for a brother
a young and aspiring architect, who conceived
the idea of putting up a building in keeping
wNith a residence district. The result was a slop-
ing-roofed structure whose shingled second story
projected over the first, which was of concrete.
It might have been a rural station, or post-office,



1 3

 


TIHI E PLEASAN.T STREET PARTNERSHIP



or a seaside cottage, but a drug store it did not
remotely suggest.
  The store opened on Pleasant Street; to reach
the private entrance you must go in from the
Terrace, where there was a square of lawn and
a maple tree, relic of better days.
  The worst of it was its utter incongruousness,
the best-so Alexina Russell said-that it in-
variably made you smile, and anything in this
weary world that caused a smile was not wholly
bad. Miss Sarah Leigh pretended to admire it,
and declared she wanted to meet the architect.
Of all things she liked originality. Mrs. Millard
heard her disdainfully.  Any departure from
tradition was objectionable in her eyes, and she
was deficient in a sense of humor. Judge Rus-
sell complained that now St. Mark's had taken
to high-church customs, and the Terrace was
degenerating, it was time for him to be put
away in Spring Hill Cemetery.
  Pretty Madelaine, his granddaughter, looked
longingly toward Dean Avenue, being divided
between a desire for its new splendors and a
complacent consciousness that it was something
of a distinction in these days to live in the



14

 

A WAVE OF IMPROVEMENT



house where your father was born. Alexina,
her sister, treated this with scorn. She loved
the shabby old house for other reasons.
  In spite of the original intentions of the
builder, fate decreed that this much-talked-of
place was not to be a drug store after all, and
early in the summer, before it was finished, it
was advertised for rent.
  The plastering stage was beginning when the
agent in charge one day appeared conducting a
young woman over the premises. If the agent's
manner revealed some slight curiosity concern-
ing her, it was not to be wondered at, for it
was more than probable he had never before
seen so charming a person in the guise of a
possible shopkeeper.
  Her bearing was dignified and businesslike,
and if a smile hovered about her lips as they
explored the odd little house, it did not go
beyond the bounds of a polite interest.  At
length she seated herself on an empty nail keg
in the shop, and became absorbed in thought.
The agent leaned against the door frame and
waited.
  " I shall want a few changes made if I lease



I 5

 

i6   THE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP



it," she announced suddenly, after some minutes
of silence.
  The agent started as her eyes met his. "Oh,
certainly," he replied, as if ready to agree with-
out hearing what they were. On second thought
he added that the architect was at that moment
coming up the street, and the best plan, perhaps,
would be to submit her wishes to him.
  To this she graciously assented, and he left
her. When he was gone, the young woman's
dignity relaxed. She smiled broadly; she even
laughed. "How ever did it happen!" she ex-
claimed.
  She produced a tape-line and made measure-
ments, then she stood with the tip of her tongue
touching her upper lip. " I do wish Marion
could see it," she said. "She will never believe
what a fascinatingly funny place it is."
  She was surveying the neighborhood from the
front door when the agent returned, accompanied
by the architect.
  She wanted very little, she announced reassur-
ingly; a fireplace in the shop was the chief
thing.
  The agent suggested that it would be far

 

A WAVE OF IMPROVEMENT



more expensive to heat the room with an open
grate than with an anthracite base burner.
Whereupon she explained that an open fire was
part of her stock in trade, and it would be
impossible to carry on her line of business
without one.
  The agent ventured to inquire what her line
was, and she answered with a twinkle in her
eye, "Notions."
  The architect was doubtful about the fireplace,
but not unwilling to discuss it, and they grew
so friendly over the matter that the agent
retired to the door and stared gloomily up the
street.
  From the fireplace the discussion turned to
other things. As a possible tenant, the young
lady consulted the architect about the best color
for the walls, so adroitly insinuating her own
ideas as to the proper stain for the woodwork
that they seemed his own.
  While they talked, a small boy in a gingham
apron, with a sailor hat on the back of his
curly head and a gray flannel donkey under his
arm, wandered in and stood surveying them
with great composure.
        C



17

 

i8   THE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP



  "Who's going to live here " he presently
asked, his brown eyes upon the lady.
  She met his gaze with a smile that drew him
a step nearer, but caused no break in his
seriousness. " I am thinking of it," she said,
adding, with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes,
" if they will let me have a fireplace in this
room. Shouldn't you want a fireplace if you
were going to live here"
  He nodded. "'Cause if you didn't, Santa
Claus couldn't come."
  The lady turned gravely to the architect.
"That is a consideration which had not oc-
curred to me, but it is an important one. I
shall not take it without the fireplace." Her
manner said there was no need for further dis-
cussion.
  " What is your name " she asked the small boy.
  He shook his head.
  "Do you mean you haven't any"
  Another more vigorous shake.
  "Perhaps you have forgotten it"
  "No, I haven't."
  "Why not tell, then I am always willing to
tell mine."

 


A WAVE OF IMPROVEMENT



  "What is it" he inquired with great prompt-
ness.
  "But I don't think it is fair to ask me when
you won't tell yours."
  "You said you would."
  The lady laughed. "Very well, I am Miss
Pennington. "
  The small boy pondered this for a moment,
then announced with much distinctness, "My
name is James Mandeville Norton."
  "Well, James, I am glad to meet you. I see
you are a fair-minded person. Do you live in
this neighborhood"
  James Mandeville pointed in the direction of
the row of toy houses on Pleasant Street, and
said he lived over there.
  " Then if they give me a fireplace, you and I
will be neighbors."
  They were standing in the door, just outside
which, on the sidewalk, was a velocipede. This
James Mandeville now mounted with gravity.
He did not express a hope that she might come
to live near him, but there was friendliness in
the tone in which he said good-by as he rode
away.



19

 

20    T11E P'LELASANT STREET P'ARLTNERSHIIP



  " Good-by Infinitesimal James," replied the
lady.
  " My name's James Mandeville," he called
back.
  In the course of a day or two the matter of
the fireplace was adjusted and the lease signed.
Norah Pennington was the tenant's name, and her
references all the most timorous landlord could
ask.
  On the afternoon of the day on which the
transaction was closed Miss Pennington might
have been seen walking along the Terrace,
gazing about with interested eyes.
  "What dear old houses," she said to herself.
"I am sure Marion will like it here. This might
be Doubting Castle, and there is Palace Beau-
tiful, a little out of repair."
  She stood for a moment on the corner in the
full blaze of the summer sun. The happy
courage of youth seemed to radiate from her.
There was a vitality, a sparkle in her glance, in
the waves of her sunny hair, in her smile, as
with a slight gesture that embraced the Terrace,
and Pleasant Street, too, she said half aloud,
"Good-by till September."


 











CHAPTER SECOND



           WHAT SHALL WE CALL IT

  A" ND now what shall we call it " Norah
    asked.
  "Call it" echoed Marion.
  They sat on the rocks beside a mountain
stream that filled the air with its delicious
murmur.
  "Certainly, everything has to have a name.
Shall it be Caupen/er and   Pennington, Dry-
goods "
  Marion removed the dark glasses she wore,
turning a pair of serious eyes upon her com-
panion.  " How absurd," she said.
  " No," insisted Norah, taking the glasses and
adjusting them  on her own nose, "not at all.
It is businesslike.  Can't you see it -a large
black sign with gilt letters."
  " Give me my glasses, and don't be silly. It
is not to be a dry-goods' store in the first place,
                       21

 


22    THlE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP



and above all things let us be original. If such
signs are customary, ours must be different."
  " Here speaks wisdom.  Here the instinct of
the  born  advertiser betrays itself.  Let us
think."  Norah buried her face in her hands.
  Marion watched her with a half smile, then as
an expression of weariness stole into her face
she restored the glasses and sighed, as with her
elbow supported on a ledge of rock she rested
her chin in her palm and looked down on the
swift running water. She was extremely slender,
and it was easy to guess she was also tall, and
that, seen at her best, she was a person of grace
and elegance rather than beauty.
  " I have it," Norah cried presently.  "The
Pleasant Street Shop. "
  "Or The Neighborhood Shop," Marion sug-
gested.
  "No, let us have Pleasant Street in it.  It
seems a good omen that the street is called
Pleasant."
  Marion smiled. "Have you told Dr. Baird"
she asked.
  " Yes.  He said I should be a novelist, and
confine my wild-goose schemes to paper."

 


          WHAT SHALL WE CALL IT            23

  "The Notions of Norak would be a taking
title," laughed Marion, the weariness gone from
her face.
  " But as I told him, ' Deeds, not Dreams,' is
my motto, and I'll show him if it is a wild-
goose scheme. I am convinced that deep down
in his heart he was interested; and although he
made no promises, I believe we may count on
him."


 










CHAPTER THIRD



                   AN ALIEN

W     ITH  the swiftness of a small tornado,
VT Charlotte descended the long, straight
stairway only to sink in a heap on the broad step
at the bottom. " Oh, dear! " she said, her chin in
her hand, "Oh, dear!"
  A ray of sunlight falling through the side-
lights of the door with their pattern of fleur-de-
lis on a crimson ground, cast a rosy stain on the
neutral-tinted carpet and brought to notice a few
atoms of dust on one of the rosewood chairs
that stood to attention on either side of the tall
hat-rack.  The wall against which they were
ranged was done in varnished paper to represent
oak panelling, and on it hung one or two steel
engravings.
  "If only something were crooked! " Charlotte
sighed.
  Now at Aunt Cora's nothing was straight.
                       24

 


AN ALNIEN



Etchings and water colors fought for the honors
of the walls, and chased each other up the side
of the stairway.   Tables  and shelves were
crowded with trifles, costly and otherwise, the
chairs were deep and cushiony, except now and
then a gilt toy which was distinctly for show;
the divans were smothered with gay pillows. In
contrast this house in Kenton Terrace seemed
unbearably stiff and prim.
  Why had not Uncle Landor allowed her to stay
with him instead of sending her so far away 
Perhaps, after all, he had not wanted her. No-
body wanted her - dreadful thought ! - unless
it were Aunt Cora; and Charlotte knew in her
heart Uncle Landor was wise in deciding she
was not to travel about with Aunt Cora any more.
  Since she had been taken away, a child of
seven, her memories of this southern town had
grown vague, and it seemed strange to hear Uncle
Landor refer to it as her home. He also said
it was the sort of a background she needed for
the next few years, until she should be ready
for college. After that he promised, if she still
swished it, she might come and keep house for
him.



25

 

26   THlE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP



  But it would be so long. How could she stand
it  If only she might have gone to boarding-
school. Why had Aunt Caroline and Aunt Vir-
ginia agreed to her coming  They did not like
her. Nothing she did pleased them. Charlotte
looked about for a refuge where she might fling
herself down and cry her heart out. She rose
and stole on tiptoe into the drawing-room.
  Here the same absolute order prevailed. She
felt sure the carved chairs and sofas, with their
covering of satin brocade, had occupied these
same positions ever since they first appeared on
the scene when Aunt Caroline made her debut,
more than thirty years ago. Fancy Aunt Caro-
line having a party!  Aunt Virginia had de-
scribed it to her, but it sounded unreal. Thirty
years ago was too far in the past. Charlotte's
own mother had been a little girl then.
  The buhl cabinet near the window, the inlaid
chess table in the corner beside the white marble
mantel, even the folds of the handsome lace cur-
tains, seemed petrified into their present positions.
For thirty years the mantle mirror had been re-
flecting the Dresden clock and candelabra, and
the crystal pendants of the chandelier; the face

 


AN ALIEN2



and figure that confronted Charlotte in the pier
glass was, however, something new and alien.
  It was a brown face with blue eyes that danced
with mischief or flashed with anger, or grew soft
with entreaty beneath their black lashes, as occa-
sion might demand. Her hair, too, was brown,
and shadowed her face in a wavy mass held most
objectionable by her aunts. That a girl barely
fourteen should have decided views on the subject
of dress, and insist upon wearing what she called
a pompadour and having her belts extremely
pointed in front, was surprising to Aunt Virginia,
shocking to Aunt Caroline.
  As she stood facing her own image, the sound
of sweeping skirts on the stairway sent her flying
behind the half-open door.
  "What has become of Charlotte " she heard
Aunt Virginia ask.
  " I am sure I don't know," responded Aunt
Caroline.
  "And what is more, you don't care," added
Charlotte, under her breath.
  When the door had closed behind them, she
ran to the window and watched as they went
down the walk and entered the waiting carriage.



27

 


28    THlE PLE.ASANT STREET PARTNERAIII'P



Two verv charming la(lies, an un prejudiced ob-
server might havc p)ro]lotnmced trcm.  A little
precise in their elegance, p)erhal)s, but pleasant
to look upon, especially Aunt Caroline, from head
to foot a shimmer of silver gray. Aunt Caroline
was Mrs. Millard, the widow of an army officer,
and Charlotte had expected to like her best; but
after all, Aunt Virginia, who was only Miss Wil-
bur, had proved the least objectionable.
  She was not so handsome, but seemed kinder;
and when she laughed, Charlotte always felt a
little thrill of sympathy. When Aunt Caroline
laughed, it was in a reserved, controlled manner.
Charlotte had arrived at the conclusion that Aunt
Virginia stood in awe of her sister; and this might
have been a bond of union if it had been possible
to become really acquainted, but Aunt Virginia
held aloof. It was almost as if she were afraid of
Charlotte, too. Still there was something rather
nice about her. Charlotte hardly realized how
often she returned to this opinion.
  When they had driven away, she went to the
library,-a less formidable apartment than the
drawing-room,-and making herself comfortable
in an arm-chair by the window, began to consider

 


AN ALIEN



what she should say to Cousin Francis, for she
had decided that pouring out her soul in a letter
would, after all, be more satisfactory than tears.
  She looked out across the garden to where, on
the other side of Pleasant Street, stood the little
corner shop with its gray-green shingles, its
upper windows all aglow in the afternoon sun-
shine. Before it stood a furniture van, and Char-
lotte idly watched the unloading.
  She had made up her mind that life here was
going to be hopelessly dull. She Swung her foot
listlessly, and, forgetting her letter, thought of
Aunt Cora's home in a gay little suburb where
something was always going on, - teas, dinners,
receptions, where, although in the background,
she had had her share of the excitement.
  At the Landors', where she sometimes spent
several weeks while Aunt Cora, worn by her
strenuous social life, went down to Atlantic City
to recuperate, it was much quieter.  And still
she loved to be there. The elder Mr. Landor
was a busy lawyer, his son Francis a literary
person, and they lived in a tall, brown stone
house in the old part of Philadelphia, among
any number of others exactly like it. It was a



29

 

THE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSIIIP



man's house, overflowing with books and pictures,
and yet showing the lack of a woman's presence.
Charlotte was very fond of her guardian and his
son, who petted and made much of her on the
occasions of her visits. She was conscious, how-
ever, that Uncle Landor was not quite satisfied
with her. He had a way of looking at her long
and steadily through his glasses, as if he were
studying her.
  Cousin Frank, perhaps because he had no
responsibility in the matter, treated her as a
comrade in a way that was flattering. She was,
of course, an ardent admirer of his stories and
verses, and upon one or two rare occasions had
been made blissfully happy by being allowed to
listen to one fresh from  the typewriter. But
most interesting of all had been a discovery
made on her last visit in the spring. Between
the leaves of a manuscript she had been allowed
to read she found some verses beginning:-

     "I love her whether she love me or no,
       Just as I love the roses where they blow
       In fragrant crimson there beyond the wall."

There wvas something more about roses being
sweet although out of reach, and teaching a les-



30

 


AN ALIEN



son to his heart; but before she had quite
grasped the idea, Francis took the paper away
from her with an exclamation of impatience.
  "Why should Francis have minded, unless
those verses meant something personal " Char-
lotte wondered.  As she thought it over, she
recalled some remarks of Aunt Cora's about a
little water-color portrait of a child in Uncle
Landor's study.
  "Who is this" Mrs. Brent asked one day,
pausing before it.
  "That is old Peter Carpenter's granddaughter
May, when she was ten years old. He had two
portraits done of her, and liking the other bet-
ter, gave this to me not long before he died."
  Aunt Cora said, " Ah! " and studied it with
interest.  "So this is the Miss Carpenter, is it
I presume Francis has a more recent like-
ness."
  " I do not know that he has. We see very
little of May in these days.  She is a great
lady."  Uncle Landor spoke as one who dis-
misses a subject.
  Then one rainy afternoon Mrs. Wellington,
the Landors' housekeeper, entertained Charlotte



3 I

 

32    THE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP



with stories of this same yOung lady who, it
turned out, lived just across the street in a
house distinguished from the rest of the block
by a garden at one side.   According to Mrs.
Wellington she was beautiful and rich, and if
one more touch were needed to make her an ir-
reproachable heroine, the long illness from which
she was then beginning to recover supplied it.
Watching at the window, Charlotte had the
pleasure of seeing her carried out for a drive
once or twice, but she never had a glimpse of
her face.
  Putting two and two together, she became
quite sure that this Miss Carpenter was the rose
which was out of reach; but though she was on
the point of it several times, she never quite
dared to question Cousin Francis about her.
  Charlotte had woven a charming romance with
these slender threads, being at the romantic age
when real life is seen beneath the lime-light of
fairyland. Was it any wonder things seemed
dull here in Kenton Terrace
  These entertaining memories being for the time
exhausted, her thoughts turned to the grievance
that had sent her downstairs with such vehe-

 


AN ALIEN



mence, - a thrilling, fascinating story taken from
her at the most critically exciting point.
  "I cannot allow you to read novels when you
are going to school," Aunt Caroline had said;
adding, " and this book is not at all the sort of
thing for a little girl."
  At the recollection Charlotte put her hand to
her hair.  Little girl, indeed! When people
wished to be disagreeable, they reminded you
that you were a little girl.
  "I have always read what I pleased," she in-
sisted, relinquishing the book unwillingly.
  " I cannot understand Mrs. Brent's allowing it;
but however that may have been, while you are
with us your Aunt Virginia and I will exercise
some supervision over what you read."
  Questions about the owner of the novel fol-
lowed, and here was another grievance. It had
been lent to Charlotte by one of her schoolmates,
a girl with fluffy yellow hair and many rings,
whom after a week's acquaintance,-to use her
own phrase, -she simply adored. Her name was
Lucile Lyle-in itself adorable-and the inti-
macy with her had resulted in Charlotte becom-
ing Carlotta.
        D



33

 

THE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSHIP



  "Lyle " Aunt Virginia repeated questioningly.
  "Don't you remember Maggie McKay, Vir-
ginia  This is her daughter," was Aunt Caro-
line's reply. To Charlotte she said, " To-morrow
I shall give you this book to return, and while
of course I wish you to be polite, I do not wvish
you to be intimate with this girl."
  " I don't care what she says, I shall read it,
and be as intimate as I please with Lucile,"
Charlotte told herself; which goes to show that
Mr. Landor was right when he felt she needed
different training.
  And now having nothing else to do, she wan-
dered to the piano, and finding an old music book,
turned its pages, playing snatches of " Monastery
Bells " and " Listen to the Mocking-bird." She
was putting a good deal of feeling into "I'm a
Pilgrim, and I'm a Stranger," when a sound
behind caused her to start.
  " You have a pretty touch, my dear," said
Aunt Virginia. "We have been out to Marat's
greenhouse, and I have brought you some roses."
She laid them on the piano as she spoke, and slipped
away before Charlotte could make any response.
  Was it a peace offering 



34


 










CHAPTER FOURTH



                 MISS WILBUR

M     ISS WILBUR was perplexed to the point
- I - of annoyance, a state of mind most un-
usual with her.
  She was by nature a serene person, quite con-
tent with her easy, uneventful life. The outside
world she faced with a timid reserve which had
not diminished with years and indulgence, find-
ing her life in her family circle and the round
of small cares, her flowers and her embroidery.
She disliked responsibility, and except in what
she considered matters of principle was inclined
to distrust her own judgment. She was full of
family loyalty, and had been satisfied to look on
from her place in the background, while her more
clever and ambitious sisters and brothers one by
one passed from the home into the world.
  Naturally enough she had not married. She
had not cared to, and had never given aniy
                       35

 

36    THE PLEASANST STREET PARTNERSHIIP



one the opportunity to combat this indifference.
Most people liked her, but she had few intimate
friends, having apparently no desire to be singled
out in any way, and yet she was warmly affec-
tionate. In truth Miss Virginia was an elusive
sort of person, sometimes allowing a glimpse of
herself in all her unselfish sweetness, and then,
presto! her reserve had taken alarm, the vision
was gone.
  She was conventional, made so by her environ-
ment; yet her failings, many of them, so her
sister Caroline declared, were those of an un-
trained child. She was careless,-as Charlotte
had noticed, she sometimes forgot the fastenings
of her skirt; when she wrote, she invariably
inked her fingers; and she was constantly losing
or breaking her glasses. She treated these mat-
ters lightly herself, but tried to conceal them
from her sister.
  In their girlhood this sister, a few years older
than she, had been the object of her deepest
devotion. Caroline was beautiful and clever, and
to question her opinions never entered Miss
Virginia's mind. It puzzled and hurt her loyal
heart that she could not quite get back to the

 


MISS WIL1BUR



old attitude when Caroline returned to her home
a widow. She submitted when Caroline assumed
command of the household; but after their falther's
death relieved her of the position of devoted
nurse, Miss Virginia found life a little empty;
and what made it the harder was that she no
longer felt herself altogether in sympathy with
her sister's opinions and methods.
  Her aspirations had never gone beyond making
home pleasant for somebody, and now even this
was taken from her. The things that most ab-
sorbed Mrs. Miilard were of little interest to
her; she began to feel useless and unhappy.
She was a failure. Life had somehow slipped
by unawares. She felt old at forty-eight.
  Above everything she disliked change, and the
sale of the corner lot and the building of the
shop caused her many a pang. In the midst of
all this disquietude Mr. Landor's letter arrived.
  " I have most agreeable recollections of your
home," he wrote, " and I realize I am asking a
good deal of you, for our little niece is a some-
what tumultuous person. She has suffered from
both over indulgence and neglect. She needs a
different atmosphere, and much in the way of



37

 

T3 TIE PLEASANT STREET PARTNERSI IP



training that her old guardian cannot give her,
so he ventures for Helen's sake to ask if you
will take charge of her daughter for a few
years."
  This half sister, twelve years younger than
herself, had come and gone like some happy
dream in Miss Virginia's life. She had grown
up under the care of her grandmother, almost
a stranger in her father's house, to which she
returned in her gay young girlhood, and for the
one time in her experience Miss Wilbur had
been swept into a whirl of gayety as Helen's
chaperon. Her charge had married early, and
after a few years went abroad with her husband
and little girl in search of health she was never
to find.
  The thought of Helen's child aroused mem-
ories both bright and sorrowful, but at least
here was an opportunity to be useful again. It
would be pleasant to have a child in the house,
Miss Virginia thought, studying the photograph
of Charlotte at seven, bright-eyed and demure.
  The tall, well-grown girl had been a surprise
to her aunts. Her assured manner and pro-
nounced style of dress were not exactly what



38

 

MISS WILBUR



one desired in a girl of fourteen. At sight of
her Miss Virginia had been seized with a fit of
shyness; in consequence the reins had been
taken by Mrs. Millard, who was not shy and
was, besides, a born manager.
  Miss Virginia felt a sympathy for Charlotte,
even while disapproving of her; she felt her
sister to be too peremptory. In the matter of
the novel it would have been better to allow
Charlotte to finish it, with the understanding
t