"Boys," said Mrs. Hoyt, "the Misses Middleton have met with a great loss. Their beautiful bowl is broken. You have seen it, and you have heard of its value, and you can imagine how badly they feel about it, and now they are trying to find out who broke it. You were at their house this morning, I believe. Do you know anything about it?" Raymond and Clement were unmistakably very much surprised. They had not heard of the accident before, it was plainly to be seen, and they eagerly disclaimed all knowledge of the affair.
"Was that the broken china you found in the currant-bushes?" exclaimed Raymond. "How on earth did it get there?"
"Oh, I say!" cried Clement, in the same breath. "Teddy, what were you and Arthur doing by the currant-bushes before the kitten's funeral? Don't you remember, Ray?" And then he stopped abruptly. He did not want to "give them away," he said to himself.
"And what do you know about it, Arthur?" asked his mother.
Arthur said nothing.
"Did you go into Miss Middleton's parlor this morning?"
Still there was no answer.
"Arthur, come here to me. Now tell me, darling, did you go into Miss Middleton's parlor this morning?"
"Yes, mother," he said, in a very low voice.
"Did you break the bowl?"
The silk gowns of the three visitors rustled audibly as they leaned forward to listen. Teddy drew a step nearer and waited eagerly for his reply, and the other boys gathered about their mother and brother, as though to sustain the family honor through this terrible emergency. But Arthur remained silent.
"Did you break the bowl, Arthur?"
"No, mother, I didn't."
And then, boy of eleven though he was, and with his older brothers looking on, he began to cry.
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Raymond, "don't be a baby, Art! If you did it, why don't you own up?"
"Because I didn't do it," said Arthur. "I didn't do it, and I wish I'd never seen the old bowl!"
"Why, Arthur," said Theodora, "I thought— Are you sure you didn't do it?"
"Of course I'm sure; just as sure as you are, or anybody else."
"Do you know anything about it?" asked Mrs. Hoyt. "Do you know who did do it?"
To this there was no reply whatever.
"It is very strange," said Miss Joanna, grimly. "Theodora and Arthur both had something to do with the calamity, for Arthur acknowledges that he was there, and Theodora carried away the fragments. One of them must be guilty of it. Is your boy truthful, Mrs. Hoyt?"
Before his mother could speak, Raymond stepped forward and stood in front of the Misses Middleton.
"Look here," said he. "I guess you'd better understand that we Hoyts aren't cowards and we aren't liars. If my brother Arthur broke that bowl, you bet he'd say so!"
"Hush, Ray!" said his mother. "That is not the proper way to speak to ladies. But I think, Miss Middleton, that what Raymond says is the case. If Arthur had done it he would acknowledge it."
"But, Arthur," cried Teddy, whose face expressed her complete mystification, "I thought—I don't understand!"
"Hush up!" said Arthur, between his sobs.
"Suppose we ask Teddy to give an account of what transpired this morning," said Mrs. Hoyt. "Did you find Arthur in the parlor?"
"Yes, Mrs. Hoyt," said Theodora. "I wasn't going to tell this, on Arthur's account, but I suppose I'll have to as long as you ask me. When I went down to wait for Aunt Tom to go to the garden I went to the parlor, and there I met Arthur coming out. He was crying, and he seemed terribly frightened, and was saying, 'Hide it! hide it!' and he ran away. When I went in, there was the bowl on the floor, broken. And then I heard Aunt Tom coming down stairs, and I didn't stop to think, but just picked up the pieces and carried them out under my apron."
"And is that all you know?"
"Yes, Mrs. Hoyt, it is all I know."
No one could doubt the truthfulness of this statement, and the three Misses Middleton rose to go, satisfied, if only for the moment, that their niece was guiltless. They drove off, Theodora occupying the fourth seat in the old barouche, and Mrs. Hoyt was left alone with her boys.
A week passed away, and the mystery of the broken bowl was as far from being solved as it had been at the beginning. It was carefully carried by three of the ladies to the old china-mender in the town of Alden, who skilfully cemented the pieces together in such a manner that the uninitiated would never discover that it had been broken; but its owners knew only too well that this treasure was no longer what it had once been, and their feelings had received a shock from which they could not soon recover.
As Miss Joanna remarked, when she examined the bowl upon its return, "Mr. Jones has done it very well; but he cannot mend our hearts, which were broken when the Middleton bowl was broken, and even if the cracks are well hidden, they will always stare us in the face!"
Though her aunts no longer thought that Theodora was actually responsible for the accident, they were quite sure that she knew who was, and they censured her severely for her silence. Even Miss Thomasine felt that she might tell them more if she would. But Teddy had already given her version of the affair, and there was nothing more to be said. She had supposed from the beginning that Arthur was the author of the misfortune, and though she did not like to doubt his word, she greatly feared that he was not speaking the truth when he denied this.
His brothers stoutly maintained his innocence when talking to Theodora, or to any one outside of the family, but with one another they acknowledged having some misgivings.
"You see, Art has been sick such a lot that I guess he is afraid to own up," said they among themselves. "He isn't just like the rest of us. Look how afraid he is in the dark, and in that spooky place in the woods, and of lots of other things. I suppose he is afraid father will punish him if he owns up, and so he's going to keep it dark as long as he can."
Mr. and Mrs. Hoyt were both greatly troubled by the affair. They knew the value of the bowl, a value which could not be made good by any amount of money, and they knew that such a rare work of art could never be replaced; and, besides, the fact that if Arthur had broken it he lacked sufficient moral courage to confess was a bitter grief to them. But the "if" was a large one, and Arthur's mother could not bring herself to believe that her boy was not speaking the truth.
Arthur himself showed plainly that he was suffering. He grew pale and lost his appetite; he started at every sound, and when he was out-of-doors he would stop constantly in his play to look about apprehensively, to peer behind bushes or trees, and to take refuge in the house did he see any one coming.
He and Teddy discussed the subject more than once, but never with any satisfactory result. It usually ended in his running to his mother to declare, with tears and sobs, that he did not break the old bowl, and he wished that he had never seen it.
In the mean time Teddy continued to ride the bicycle. Her aunts seemed to have completely forgotten having seen her in the very act. They did not mention the subject again, being absorbed in conjectures and grief about[Pg 335] the bowl, and Theodora, apparently believing that silence gave consent, did not recall it to their minds.
The boys were all perfectly willing now that she should use their wheels, for she soon rode as well as they did, and as there were so many bicycles in the family, there was usually one that she could take.
One afternoon Teddy had been off on quite a little excursion by herself. She was on Arthur's wheel, and she had gone "around the square," as they called it, coming home by a back way. Just as she drew near her aunts' house a heavy shower which had been gathering for some time, unnoticed by Theodora, came pattering down.
There was hail as well as rain, and Teddy rode quickly to the house and went in by the kitchen door. She took the wheel in with her and placed it in the back hall, in an out-of-the-way corner, intending to return it to Arthur as soon as the storm should be over.
But it lasted longer than she expected, and by the time it had ceased to rain supper was ready. It was quite dark now by six o'clock, and Theodora knew that her aunts would not allow her to go out alone so late, so she determined to get up early the next morning, and take the wheel back then. She said nothing of this plan, however, and did not mention to her aunts that a hated bicycle was in the house.
In fact she was not at all sure that she was doing right to ride without their permission, and she made up her mind that she would tell them to-morrow. Now that she had attained her object, and had learned how, she would not mind so much if she were forbidden by them to ride, for she was sure that when her father and mother returned to this country in the spring they would buy her a wheel, and until then she could wait. Indeed, she hoped, from what she had heard her mother say, that Mrs. Middleton would learn to ride herself, in spite of the sentiments of her sisters-in-law upon the subject.
Eight o'clock was Teddy's bedtime, and she bade her aunts good-night at that hour as usual. She had been asleep but a short time when she was awakened by a commotion in the hall, most unusual in that quiet household. There were hurried footsteps and half-smothered exclamations, and presently she was quite sure that she heard moans of pain.
Springing out of bed, she ran to the door and opened it just in time to see Miss Thomasine hurry through the hall with a mustard plaster in her hand, while in the distance appeared Miss Melissa with a hot-water bag, and from another room emerged Miss Dorcas with a bottle of medicine.
"What is the matter, Aunt Tom?" asked Teddy. "Is any one sick?"
"Your aunt Joanna is very ill," whispered Miss Thomasine, as she passed.
Much startled, Teddy went back to her room and waited. Then she concluded to dress herself and go to her aunt's door to see if she could be of any help. This did not take long, but when she knocked at the door it was opened by Miss Dorcas, who told her that she had better not come in.
Theodora was sadly frightened, and the groans which she heard did not tend to reassure her. Her aunt must be very ill; perhaps she was even dying.
"Have you sent for the doctor?" she asked.
"There is no one to send," said Miss Dorcas, "for John is in bed with a bad attack of rheumatism; so your aunt Melissa is going with Catherine, the cook. They are getting ready now, but I am afraid it will take them a long time to get to Dr. Morton's house; and it is so very late for women to be out alone—after ten o'clock!"
And then she shut the door again, and her niece was left alone in the hall, with the sound of her aunt Joanna's moans in her ears.
She went to look for her aunt Melissa, and found that she was just rousing Catherine from her first heavy slumber. Though ten o'clock was not late in the eyes of the world, the Middleton household had been in bed for an hour, and to them it seemed like the middle of the night.
It would take Catherine a long time to get awake, to say nothing of dressing. Miss Melissa herself was in her wrapper, and Theodora supposed that she would not go forth even upon an errand of life and death without arraying herself as if for a round of calls, down to the very last pin in the shoulder of her camel's-hair shawl—and in the mean time Aunt Joanna might die!
How dreadful it was! Teddy wished that she could do something. She did not love Aunt Joanna as she did either of her other aunts, but she would do anything to save her life. She could run to Dr. Morton's in half the time that it would take Aunt Melissa and old Catherine to get there.
Suddenly she bethought herself of Arthur's wheel down in the back entry. She would go on that!
ANOTHER MOMENT SHE MOUNTED AND WAS OFF.
No sooner said than done. She did not tell her aunts of her inspiration, knowing that valuable time would be lost in the discussion that would ensue, and she would probably be back before Aunt Melissa had left their own gates. She flew down stairs, picking up her worsted cap as she ran through the hall. It took but a moment to unfasten the back door and lift the wheel down the short flight of steps. Another moment and she was mounted and off.
The storm clouds had rolled away, and the sky was now perfectly clear. The moon had risen an hour since, making the night as bright as day with its strange, weird light, the light that transforms the world into such a different place from that which the sun reveals. Teddy had seldom been out at night, and now to go alone on such an errand and in such a manner filled her with excitement.
To be fleeing away on a bicycle at dead of night to save her aunt's life was something which she had never dreamed it would be her fate to do.
Puddles of rain-water stood here and there in her path, but the Alden roads were noted for their excellence, and even after the heavy shower they were hard as boards, and the pools were easily avoided. The moonlight cast strange shadows over the lawn, and as she flew past the gate-post it almost seemed as if some one were standing there and had moved; but of course that was only her imagination, Teddy told herself. The child had not a thought of fear.
Her aunts' house was on the outskirts of the town, and at this hour the street was but little frequented, and she met no one as she skimmed over the broad white road. Dr. Morton's house was about a mile from that of the Misses Middleton, and it did not take long to get there. The doctor's buggy was at the door, and he himself was just in the act of alighting, when there was the whiz of a wheel on the gravelled driveway and the sharp, sudden ring of a bicycle-bell.
The doctor turned in time to see a small girlish figure swing herself to the ground.
"Bless my soul!" exclaimed he, much startled. "Who is this?"
"It's Teddy Middleton, and Aunt Joanna is very ill. Please come just as quick as you can, Dr. Morton."
"Bless my soul!" repeated the Doctor. "You don't mean to tell me the good ladies have allowed you to come out at this hour of the night, and on a bicycle?"
He knew them well, and had heard them discourse more than once on the subject of their pet aversion.
"No, they don't know anything about it," said Teddy. "And Aunt Melissa and old Catherine are getting ready to walk here, so I must hurry back and stop them; and I think Aunt Joanna is dying, Dr. Morton, so please hurry."
Before the doctor could reply she had mounted her wheel and had disappeared in the shadow of the trees at the gate. Without waiting another moment he stepped into his buggy, and turning his tired horse once more away from home, he drove after her as quickly as possible.
Teddy reached the house just as her aunt, clothed with the care which she had suspected, and accompanied by the still half-asleep Catherine, emerged from the front door. The sight of some one at the foot of the steps nearly caused Miss Melissa to faint with horror upon the spot.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Burglars! Murder!"
"No, it isn't, Aunt Melissa. It's only Teddy. You needn't go for the doctor; he is coming."
[Pg 336]
"Child, what do you— Catherine, your arm, please! Surely you haven't been—and on that!"
The unwonted excitement under which Miss Melissa was laboring caused her to be more incoherent even than usual.
"Yes, I have been for him," said Teddy, coolly, as she lifted the bicycle up the steps and stood it on the piazza, "and here he comes now."
The roll of wheels and the quick tread of a horse's hoofs were heard upon the avenue, and in another moment the doctor had alighted. Miss Melissa, incapable of further speech, turned and followed him into the house.
He found Miss Joanna indeed very ill with a sharp attack of the heart trouble to which she was subject. It was some time before she was relieved, but at length the pain passed by, and she was at least out of danger; but it had been a narrow escape.
"If I had been five minutes later I doubt if I could have saved her," said the doctor, "and it is all owing to that niece of yours that I got here in time."
"May I ask what you mean, doctor?" said Miss Middleton. "I thought that my sister Melissa went to you."
"Miss Melissa was just about to leave the house when I drove up. That bright little Teddy came for me on a wheel. Where she got it I don't know, unless you have relented and given her one. If you haven't, it is high time you did, for she deserves it for her presence of mind. And it is high time, too, that you changed your minds about bicycles, for it is all owing to one that Miss Joanna is alive now. I tell you that if I had been five minutes later she wouldn't be living now."
"Oh, doctor!" exclaimed the three ladies who were with him in the room next to Miss Joanna's, while the fourth watched by the invalid's bed.
"It is the truth," continued Dr. Morton, who was in the habit of speaking his mind plainly to the awe-inspiring Misses Middleton as well as to every one else; "and that bright little Teddy deserves a wheel of her own—if you haven't given her one already."
In the mean time Teddy had been wandering about the big house, not knowing quite what to do with herself. She went to her own room at first, but she could not stay there. It was just near enough to her aunt Joanna for her to hear muffled sounds from her room without knowing what they meant. She could not go in there, and her aunts were all too much occupied in obeying the doctor's commands and in waiting upon their sister to speak to her.
The servants had collected in the back part of the hall, very much frightened at the state of affairs, weeping and exclaiming with one another. Theodora, after trying each unoccupied room in turn, at last found herself in the parlor. It was very dark at first, but she pulled up the Venetian-blinds at the front windows, and let in a flood of moonlight.
Teddy had never before seen the room look so attractive. It was not often so brilliantly illuminated, for the shades were always carefully drawn. She moved restlessly about for a time, not daring to touch any of the treasures, but looking at them with interest and curiosity.
The mended bowl was again in its place upon the Chinese table, the beautiful yellow porcelain shining in the silvery light.
"I wonder if Arthur really didn't do it?" thought Teddy. "It is the queerest, strangest thing that ever happened. I wish we could find out about it."
She thought about this for some time, and then spying a Chinese puzzle which hung from a corner of a cabinet, she took it down and began to play with it. It was composed of a number of slender sticks of carved ivory which were strung horizontally upon silken cords of various colors. Theodora had seen it before, and she never wearied of slipping the sticks up and down the silk, first disclosing a dozen cords, then but two or three, sometimes more, sometimes less, the mechanism of which constituted the puzzle. She worked at it for ten minutes, sitting in the full glory of the moonlight; and then suddenly she became conscious that she was not alone in the room.
A slight, almost imperceptible noise behind her, the faintest of movements in the back of the room, told her that unquestionably some one was there!