CHAPTER XV
THE GYPSY'S WARNING
It was at Betty's party. And as Mr. Rand had told our friends, Betty was a wonderful girl—for being happy and making others happy.
Now, here it was less than a year from the time of her dear mother's death, and on her own birthday, of course, she would not have a party, but when Daddy came in with his arms full of company and bundles, as Betty put it, of course she turned right in and had an impromptu party—just to make Daddy happy.
It was an easy matter to gather in a few of the nearby cottagers, of whom there were many very pleasant samples, and so, when the evening following the midnight tow arrived, the party from Chelton found themselves rested and ready for the festivities. As usual, Walter was devoted to Betty. Jack liked her, Ed admired her, but Walter claimed her—that was his way. She was a pretty girl of rather an unusual type, accounted for, her father declared, by the fact that her mother was an Irish beauty, and gave to Betty that wonderful golden-red hair, the hazel eyes and the indescribable complexion that is said to come from generations of buttermilk.
And withal she was such a little flirt! How she did cling to Walter, make eyes at Ed and defy Jack, giving to each the peculiar attention that his special case most needed.
Belle and Bess found it necessary to take up with some very pleasant chaps from a nearby hotel, while Cora and Hazel made themselves agreeable with two friends of Mr. Rand's—boys from New York, who had many mutual acquaintances with Chelton folks and, therefore, could talk of other things than gears and gasoline.
Mr. Rand was on the side porch, and when the drawing-room conversation waited for the next remark, his voice might be heard in a very animated discussion. Cora sat near a French window, and she heard:
"But the hat! How did his particular hat get there?"
The answer of his friend was not audible.
"I tell you," went on the gentleman, "this thing has got to be watched.
I don't like it!"
"Oh, Coral" chirped Belle. "Do sing the 'Gypsy's Warning.' We haven't heard it since the night——"
"Walter fished up a chaperon," added Jack, with a laugh.
"The 'Gypsy's Warning'!" repeated Betty.
"It's a very old song," explained Cora, "but we had to revive something, so we revived——"
"The gyp," finished Ed, getting up and fetching Cora's guitar from the tete in the corner. "Do sing it, Cora. This is such a gypsy land out here."
"Are there?" asked Bess, in sudden alarm.
"There are," said Ed mockingly. "There are gypsy land out here!"
"Oh, you know perfectly well what I meant," and Bess pursed her lips prettily.
"Course I do; if I didn't—land help me—I would need a map and a horoscope in my pocket every single minute."
"Come on, Cora, sing," pleaded Hazel. "Let them hear about our
Warning."
"I'm afraid it's too late," objected Cora with a sly look at Betty and
Walter. "We should have sent the warning on ahead of us."
She stood up to take the instrument from Ed's hands. She was near the
French window again.
"I tell you," she heard Mr. Rand say, "these gypsy fellows will stoop to anything. And as for revenge—they say once a gypsy always a gypsy. Which means they will stick by each other——"
"Come on, Cora. We want the song. I remember my mother used to sing the 'Gypsy's Warning,' and she brought it right down to date—we never went near a camp," said Walter.
The threat of the old gypsy woman rang in Cora's ears. She could see her raise that brown finger and hear her say: "If you harm Salvo, harm shall be upon your head." Cora had testified against Salvo. A hat known to belong to a member of the tribe was later found at midnight under Cora's car, miles from the town where the robbery had been committed. Were they following her?
"Oh, really, I can't sing to-night," she protested rather lamely. "I have a cold."
The voices on the porch had ceased. Betty was claiming her father for some game. The evening had not been a great success.
"And to-morrow," faltered Walter, "we pass on. I wish we had decided
to stay in the Berkshires, but of course the girls must make the White
Mountains," and he fell back in his chair as if overwhelmed. "I fancy
Bess is ambitious to climb Mount Washington."
"I possibly could—as well as the others," and Bess flushed at the mention of anything in the flesh-reducing line. "I have always been a pretty fair climber."
"Yes, that's right," called Jack. "I remember one time Bess climbed in the window at school. A lemon pie had been locked up inadvertently."
"But you ought to see more of Lenox," spoke Betty. "I do wish you would stay—for a few days at least."
"So do I," said Walter with flagrant honesty.
"But the season wanes," remarked Cora, "and we must keep to our itinerary. Now that my machine has been overhauled I anticipate a royal run. Betty, can't you come with us? Mr. Rand says you have been here all summer——"
"And too much is enough," declared the ensnared Walter. "Betty, if you would come we might mount Mount Washington."
"What do you say, papa?"
"Why, go, of course; it would be the very thing for you. And then, don't you see, I shouldn't have to give up my job as chaperon," and he clapped his hands on his knees and chuckled with a relish that all enjoyed.
Mr. Rand decided that he would go and take his gorgeous car, and the pretty, bright little Irish Betty! Why, it would be like starting all over again!
Hazel was fingering Cora's guitar. The chords of the "Gypsy's Warning" just floated through the room. Walter hummed, Jack almost whistled, Ed looked the part, but Cora!
Cora, brave, beautiful and capable—Cora jumped up and seemed to find some flowers in the vases absolutely absorbing. Cora did not take any part in rendering even the subdued "Gypsy's Warning."