They locked the house early one morning when even the dusty bricks had a smell of freshness to them before the hot sun baked them for another day. The closed blinds seemed sullen1 like a conquered tyrant2, and the front door looked reproachfully at Aunt Crete as she turned the key carefully and tried it twice to be sure it was locked. The lonesome look of the house gave the poor old lady a pang3 as she turned the corner in her softly rustling4 silk coat and skirt. She felt it had hardly been right to put on a new black silk in the morning, and go off from all the cares of the world, just leave them, boldly ignore them, like any giddy girl, and take a vacation. She regarded herself with awe5 and a rising self-respect in every window she passed. Somehow the look of dumpiness had passed away mysteriously. It was not her old self that was passing along the street to the station bearing a cut-steel hand-bag, while Donald carried her new satchel6, and her new trunk[62] bumped on a square ahead in the expressman’s wagon7.
It was a hot morning, and the great city station seemed close and stuffy8; but Aunt Crete mingled9 with the steaming crowd blissfully. To be one with the world, attired10 irreproachably11; to be on her way to a great hotel by the sea, with new clothes, and escorted devotedly12 by some one that was her very own, this indeed was happiness. Could any one desire more upon the earth?
Donald put her into a cab at the station, and she beamed happily out at the frightful13 streets that always made her heart come into her mouth on the rare occasions when she had to cross them. The ride across the city seemed a brief and distinguished14 experience. It was as if everybody else was walking and they only had the grandeur15 of a carriage. Then the ferry-boat was delightful16 to the new traveller, with its long, white-ceiled passages, and its smell of wet timbers and tarred ropes. They had a seat close to the front, where they could look out and watch their own progress and see the many puffing17 monsters laboriously18 plying19 back and forth20, and the horizon-line of many masts, like fine brown lines against the sky. Aunt Crete felt that at last she was out in the[63] world. She could not have felt it more if she had been starting for Europe.
The seashore train, with its bamboo seats and its excited groups of children bearing tin pails and shovels21 and tennis-rackets, filled her with a fine exhilaration. At last, at last, her soul had escaped the bounds of red brick walls that she had expected would surround her as long as she lived. She drew deep breaths, and beamed upon the whole trainful of people, yelling baby and all. She gazed and gazed at the fast-flying Jersey22 scenery, grown so monotonous23 to some of the travellers, and admired every little white and green town at which they paused.
Donald put her into a carriage when they reached the shore. Half an hour off they had begun to smell the sea, and to catch glimpses of low-lying marshes25 and a misty26 blueness against the sky. Now every friendly hackman at the station seemed a part of the great day to Aunt Crete. So pretty a carriage, with low steps and gray cushions and a fringe all around the canopy27, and a white speckled horse, with long, gentle, white eyelashes. Aunt Crete leaned back self-consciously on the gray cushions, and enjoyed the creak of her silk jacket as she settled into place.[64] She felt as if this was a play that would soon be over; but she would enjoy it to the very end, and then go back to her dish-washing and cellar-cleaning, and being blamed, and bear them all in happy remembrance of what she had had for one blissful vacation.
She did not know that Donald had telephoned ahead for the best apartments in the hotel. She was engaged in watching for the first blue line of the great mysterious ocean; and, when it came into sight, billowing suddenly above the line of board walk as they turned a corner, her heart stood still for one moment, and then bounded onward28 set to the time of wonder.
Two obsequious29 porters jumped to assist Aunt Crete from the carriage. The hand-baggage drifted up the steps as if by magic, and awaited them in the apartments to which they arose in a luxurious30 elevator. Aunt Crete noticed several old ladies with pink and blue wool knitting, sitting in a row of large rocking-chairs, as she glided31 up to the second floor. It gave her rest on one point, for they all wore white dresses. She had been a little dubious32 about those white dresses that Donald had insisted upon. But now she might enjoy them unashamed. O, what would Luella say?
[65]
She glanced around the room, half-fearfully expecting to find Luella waiting there. Somehow, now she was here, she wanted to get used to it and enjoy it all before Luella came. For Luella was an uncertain quantity. Luella might not like it, after all! Dreadful thought! And after Donald had taken so much trouble and spent so much money all to surprise them!
The smiling porter absorbed the goodly tip that Donald handed him, and went his way. Aunt Crete and Donald were left alone. They looked at each other and smiled.
“Let’s look around and see where they’ve put us,” said Donald, pushing the swaying curtains aside; and there before them rolled the blue tide of the ocean. Aunt Crete sank into a chair, and was silent for a while; and then she said: “It’s just as big as I thought it would be. I was so afraid it wouldn’t be. Some folks next door went down to the shore last year, and they said it didn’t look big enough to what they’d expected; and I’ve been afraid ever since.”
Donald’s eyes filled with a tender light that was beautiful to see. He was enjoying the spending of his money, and it was yielding him a rich reward already.
[66]
The apartments that had been assigned to them consisted of a parlor33 and two large bedrooms with private baths. Donald discovered a few moments later, when he went down to the office to investigate, that Luella and his aunt occupied a single room on the fourth floor back, overlooking the kitchen court. It was not where he would have placed them, had they chosen to await his coming and be taken down to the shore in style. But now that they had run away from him, and were too evidently ashamed of him, perhaps it was as well to let them remain where they were, he reflected.
“Aunt Carrie and Luella have gone out with a party in a carriage for an all-day drive to Pleasure Bay,” announced Donald when he came up. “Aunt Carrie’s ankle must be better.”
“Well, that’s real nice!” exclaimed Aunt Crete with a smile, turning from her view of the sea, where she had been ever since he left her. “I’m glad Luella is having a good time, and we sha’n’t miss her a mite34. You and I’ll have the ocean all to ourselves to-day.”
Donald smiled approvingly. He was not altogether sure he cared to meet that other aunt and cousin at all. He was not sure but he would like[67] to run away from them, and carry Aunt Crete with him.
“Very well,” he said, “I’m glad you’re not disappointed. We’ll do just whatever we want to. Would you like to go in bathing?”
“O, my! Could I? I’ve always thought I’d like to see how it would feel, but I guess I’m too old. Besides, there’s my figger. It wouldn’t look nice in a bathing-suit. Luella wouldn’t like it a bit, and I don’t want to disgrace her, now I’m here. She always makes a lot of fun of old people going in and sitting right on the edge of the water. I guess it won’t do.”
“Yes, it will do, if you want to. Didn’t I tell you this was my party, and Luella isn’t in it? That’s ridiculous. I’ll take you in myself, Aunt Crete, and we’ll have the best time out; and you sha’n’t be scared, either. I can swim like a fish. You shall go in every day. Would you like to begin at once?”
“I should,” said Aunt Crete, rising with a look of resolution in her face. She felt that Luella would condemn35 the amusement for her; so, if she was to dare it, it must be done before her niece appeared.
They went down to the beach, and for a few[68] minutes surveyed the bathers as they came out to the water. Then with joy and daring in her face Aunt Crete went into the little bath-house with wildly beating heart, arrayed herself in the gay blue flannel36 garb37 provided for her use, and came timidly out to meet Donald, tall and smiling in his blue jerseys38.
They had a wonderful time. It was almost better than shopping. Donald led her down to the water, and very gently accustomed her to it until he had led her out beyond the roughness, where his strong arms lifted her well above the swells40 until she felt as if she was a bird. It was marvellous that she was not afraid, but she was not. It was as if she had that morning been transferred back over forty years to her youth again, and was having the good times that she had longed for, such as other girls had—the swings, and the rides, and the skatings, and bicyclings. How many such things she had watched through the years, with her heart palpitating with daring to do it all herself! Her petulant41 sister and the logy Luella never dreamed that Aunt Crete desired such un-auntly indulgences. If they had, they would have taken it out of her, scorched42 it out with scorn.
[69]
The white hair with its natural waves fluffed out beautifully, like a canary’s feathers, after the bath, and Aunt Crete was smiling and charming at lunch in one of her fine new white dresses. She had hurried to put it on before Luella appeared, lest they might all be spirited away from her if Luella discovered them. She reflected with a sigh that they would likely fit Luella beautifully, and that that would probably be their final destination, just as Luella’s discarded garments came to her.
But there was nothing to mar24 the lunch-time and the beautiful afternoon, wherein, after a delicious nap to the accompaniment of the music of the waves, she was taken to drive in the fringed carriage again, while a bunch of handsome ladies, old and young, sat on the hotel piazza43 in more of those abundant rockers, and watched her approvingly. She felt that she was of some importance in their eyes. She had suddenly blossomed out of her insignificance44, and was worth looking at. It warmed her heart with humble45 pleasure. She felt that she had won approval, not through any merit of her own, but through Donald’s loving-kindness. It was wonderful what a charm clothes could work.
[70]
“Put on your gray silk for dinner,” said Donald with malice46 aforethought in his heart.
“O,” gasped47 Aunt Crete, “I think I ought to keep that for parties, don’t you?&rdquo............