THE MISSING TRUNK
It was the Thursday before Class Day, a clear morning, almost cool, with just a suggestion of coming warmth in the air. Martine sank into a chair by the open window, and gazed over the tops of the trees at the long vista of the Avenue. Not for a moment would she have admitted that she was tired, and yet there was a trace of weariness in the sigh with which she sank back in the comfortable easy chair.
As a matter of fact she had been working with a degree of energy that she had seldom shown before. Martine had never been accused of laziness, even in her idler days, yet her energy had never been expended in the prosaic realm of household work. But now the situation was changed, and for the past week she had worked unremittingly, packing, clearing, doing all kinds of little things that would simplify the departure for York a week later. Angelina, it is true, had helped her to the best of her ability, and had even succeeded in subduing some of her own natural flightiness. She was proud of her present position as sole assistant in the little household, and the prospect of continued hard work during the summer in no way troubled her.
If Martine was weary on this particular morning, her weariness was tempered with satisfaction. Everything had gone so smoothly that she would be able to enjoy Class Day without disagreeable remembrances of things left undone.
While she sat by the window, thoroughly enjoying her well-earned rest, she was startled for a moment by feeling two soft hands clasped over her eyes. Before she had had time to wonder long, a soft laugh told her who the newcomer was.
"Why, Elinor Naylor, where in the world—"
"Straight from Bar Harbor," said Elinor, answering the unfinished question, "that is, we arrived early last evening, and I've come here directly from the hotel. Kate Starkweather's brother has a large spread to-morrow, and though I had not intended to come, mamma thinks I ought to see at least one Harvard Class Day—and so here I am."
For a few moments the two talked as rapidly as friends will who have not seen each other for weeks. Elinor told her Class Day plans, and tried to arrange to meet Martine after the statue exercises.
"I do not expect to see very much of Class Day," said Martine, "it would be different if Lucian were here. I am going with Amy to Fritz Tomkins' spread, and to the Pudding because Hazen Andrews is in it. His mother is one of mamma's friends in Chicago. Mrs. Blair thinks I ought to wait until I am eighteen before going at all. But mamma is not so conventional, and she said I might."
"I suppose you are very busy," said Elinor, as she rose to go. "So I hesitate to ask a favor."
"Ask it," cried Martine. "I am not half as busy as I was yesterday. I am sure you won't ask anything I cannot do."
"It's only this," continued Elinor. "My trunk hadn't come this morning, and we could get no information when we telephoned. It would be simply awful if it shouldn't arrive in time for me to go to the Senior spread. Kate and I put our things into the one trunk, and I can't understand why it hasn't come. We gave our checks to an expressman at the station. If only I knew the city a little better, I'd go down town, and find out what has happened to it."
"There," exclaimed Martine, laughing, "Your favor is a very simple one. You would like me to pilot you about—with the greatest pleasure."
"I feared you might be too busy," and Elinor glanced around the room, with its half-filled boxes, and books piled on tables, waiting to be packed.
"I should do little more to-day. My mother is staying with friends in Brookline over Sunday. Angelina is out just now, but I'll leave word with the elevator-boy that I'll be back by one."
Martine was soon ready, and after one more vain effort to learn something by telephone about the trunk, the two set out for the downtown express office. There they were equally unsuccessful, and so continued their journey to the great North Station.
The baggage-master was a trifle impatient. It was a warm day, and a busy season, but the two young girls and their evident anxiety appealed to him.
"It's up to the Express Company," he said at last, "to give you your trunk. I have made a careful search, and no trunk with the number on your claim-check is here. You will find it probably at the hotel. I would advise you to go back."
"You are sure it isn't here?" asked Martine.
"Perfectly sure."
"I know it isn't at the hotel. But of course I can ask again," said Elinor. "I am awfully sorry to have brought you on this wild-goose chase, Martine, we might as well turn about now. The whole thing is very queer."
It seemed queerer when no search, no enquiries produced the missing trunk. One thing only was clear. There was a record that it had been taken from the station. It was perfectly evident that it had not been delivered at the hotel, where, strangely enough, the trunk belonging to Kate's aunt had arrived safely.
"It was a large steamer trunk," said Elinor with a sigh, "but small enough for thieves to carry away. I suppose they took it from the back of the wagon. You shouldn't have thieves in Boston."
"Probably they came from some other city. Philadelphia possibly," retorted Martine. Then, as quickly, "Excuse me Elinor, I did not really mean that. What a pity you and I are not the same size. I would gladly lend you anything of mine you could wear."
"Oh—no—" responded Elinor, "I am sure nothing of yours would fit me. You are so much taller and thinner. Short and dumpy people like me never can wear other people's clothes. It won't be so bad for Kate, when I break the news to her."
"But what will you do?"
"We must go out at once and buy gowns and hats. I begrudge the money just now. Kate won't mind, nor her aunt. They love to spend money for clothes, and can afford anything. I have to be more careful; but after coming so far—I can't be cheated out of Class Day, and this grey gown and dark hat would be utterly out of place."
"Not so very long ago I should have thought it great fun to buy a whole outfit on the spur of the moment," responded Martine, "but the past few weeks I have grown so economical that it seems extravagant to buy anything one doesn't need."
"But I certainly need a muslin gown and a hat, a fan, a parasol, light shoes—"
"There, there, let me lend you a parasol, fan, and some of the other things that don't have to be made to order. Also I have a lovely hat that would fit you like the paper on the wall, if you would borrow it. Please say yes."
With some protests Elinor accepted Martine's offer, and after luncheon, accompanied by Kate and her aunt, they set out for the most fashionable outfitter's. Kate, with Mrs. Starkweather's approval, unrestricted in the matter of money, soon chose a costume complete in every detail. Elinor, wishing to spend less, had greater difficulty in suiting herself.
"By six o'clock surely," said the obliging saleswoman, "everything shall be ready. Two or three workwomen will at once be set on the alterations. This is a special case, and we are glad to do all we can to oblige you."
"Now Elinor, come back with me," urged Martine, "we have half the afternoon before us, and we might as well have a good long talk."
"That will suit me very well. Mrs. Starkweather and Kate have to stay in to see callers. You will not care," she concluded turning to her friends, "if I stay with Martine until five. She is going to lend me a hat, and fan, and other things."
"Provided you return to the hotel by five, you may go with Martine now. We are greatly obliged for your assistance," and Mrs. Starkweather shook hands cordially with the young girl.
The apartment seemed cool and pleasant to the two friends, as they entered it, and Martine sank down in a little willow chair with a sigh of relief.
"Angelina," she called, "Angelina!"
In a moment Angelina stood before her.
"Bring me the large hat-box from my closet, please."
"Certainly, Miss Martine."
"It's handsomer than my own," exclaimed Elinor, as Martine lifted the large white hat from the box, and set it on her friend's head.
"It suits you perfectly. I am so glad I have it!"
Martine did not explain that this was the hat she had herself meant to wear Class Day, and that her second best was not nearly as becoming. Martine was not vain, and it really pleased her that she had something to offer Elinor. The fan, parasol, and other little accessories were quickly chosen from Martine's abundant store, and then the two girls sat down for the promised long talk.
"I know you'll like York," said Elinor. "Every one does."
"Oh,—I dare say,—I remember Peggy Pratt at school was always talking about it. But of course I am not going for fun, and we are to live in the littlest bit of a house, with only Angelina for maid, and I shall hardly have a cent to spend."
"I know, I know," responded Elinor gently, "but spending money is not everything, you can enjoy so many things without it."
"Oh, I dare say, but money helps. You and Kate would have had to give up your Class Day, or wear unsuitable clothes, if you hadn't had money to buy new outfits to-day. Still, I like the idea of the little cottage, and helping mother, and if father only comes back safely, I sha'n't care if we haven't a penny in the world."
"You must have had rather hard work packing up," said Elinor sympathetically; "I suppose Angelina has been more hindrance than help."
"Oh, no—she has surprised us all by taking a real interest. I asked her if she wouldn't rather have a different kind of place for the summer. 'What an idea!' she replied. 'I love hard work when I can get all the credit for it. Wild horses wouldn't keep me away from York. Besides, your mother has got so used to my Spanish flavoring that her health would suffer if I should leave.'"
"She's a case," commented Elinor, "but tell me, is it true that you might have visited Mrs. Stanley at Bar Harbor this summer?"
"Oh, she's papa's cousin," rejoined Martine, "and she did invite me. But of course I had no intention of leaving mamma, even if I had been in the mood for a gay place like Mt. Desert. She has been growing paler and thinner, all the spring, and though she might have boarded in some quiet spot, she just couldn't have got along without me."
"Of course not."
"She thought I could accept the invitation for August, but this was out of the question. I doubt that I should have gone out to Cambridge to-morrow, if I hadn't seen that mother would be disappointed if I gave that up. There will be other Class Days, and I can wait. But it isn't as if I had to buy anything—a muslin that I had made in the winter is just the thing, and I haven't had to bother."
"You are very sweet, Martine, about everything, and so different from what I thought of you that day we ran into each other at the car. Didn't I seem a little hateful when we were first introduced at Mrs. Weston's luncheon?"
"Oh—no—only a little stiff, but that was natural, when you think of our first meeting," and Martine laughed at the remembrance. "I can't imagine you out of temper, since I have really known you."
"Not even to-day?"
"To-day?"
"Why, I have been feeling particularly savage about my trunk. You must have noticed how I spoke to the man in the express office."
"He deserved it, but really I didn't notice anything of that kind. You were really polite, considering you had lost a trunk."
"It is really a loss," responded Elinor, "even to Kate, and I wish that some one could explain what happened to it."
"It may simply be mislaid. Ten to one it may turn up to-morrow."
"Oh, I hope not. That would be exasperating, after all the trouble we have had to-day. I would almost rather that the trunk should stay lost. Then we could bring suit for damages."
"You can generally get only a hundred dollars on a single trunk, at least I remember hearing papa say that was all railroads would pay," said Martine sagely, "and what would that be among two?"
"You shouldn't have put all your eggs in one basket."
Elinor and Martine started at the sound of a strange voice, but looking up they saw Angelina standing at the door leading toward the dining-room. She had used a curious falsetto with which at times she liked to experiment.
"I just meant to remind you it's half-past four, and I heard Miss Elinor say she must be back at the hotel by five. You've just barely time, and if you please I'll carry the boxes for you."
Thus Angelina turned aside the reproof that might have been given her for listening at the door.