Nancy Brandon
Lilian Garis
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
They had a merry time getting the Whatnot Shop ready.]
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NANCY BRANDON
By
LILIAN GARIS
_Author of_ "JOAN'S GARDEN OF ADVENTURE," "GLORIA AT BOARDING SCHOOL," "CONNIE LORING'S AMBITION," "BARBARA HALE: A DOCTOR'S DAUGHTER," "CLEO'S MISTY RAINBOW," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY
THELMA GOOCH
GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
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_Copyright, 1924_ By MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY Springfield, Massachusetts _All Rights Reserved_
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
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CONTENTS
I. THE GIRL AND THE BOY II. DINNER DIFFICULTIES III. BELATED HASTE IV. NEW FRIENDS V. ORIGINAL PLANS VI. FAIR PLAY VII. THE SPECIAL SALE VIII. FISH HOOKS AND FLOATERS IX. THE BIG DAY X. STILL THEY CAME XI. THE FAILURE XII. THE VIRTUE OF RESOLVE XIII. BEHIND THE CLOUD XIV. A PLEASANT SURPRISE XV. TALKING IT OVER XVI. JUST FISHING XVII. THE CAVE-IN XVIII. INTRODUCING NERO XIX. A DISCOVERY XX. THE MIDNIGHT ALARM XXI. FOR VALUE DECEIVED XXII. TARTS AND LADY FINGERS XXIII. THE STORY TOLD
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NANCY BRANDON: ENTHUSIAST
CHAPTER I
THE GIRL AND THE BOY
The small kitchen was untidy. There were boxes empty and some crammedwith loose papers, while a big clothes basket was filled--with a smallboy, who took turns rolling it like a boat and bumping it up and downlike a flivver. Ted Brandon was about eleven years old, full ofboyhood's importance and bristling with boyhood's pranks.
His sister Nancy, who stood placidly reviewing the confusion, was, sheclaimed, in her teens. She was also just now in her glory, for aftermany vicissitudes and uncertainties they were actually moved into theold Townsend place at Long Leigh.
"You're perfectly silly, Ted. You know it's simply a wonderful idea,"she proclaimed loftily.
"Do I." There was no question in the boy's tone.
"Well, you ought to. But, of course, boys--"
"Oh, there you go. Boys!!" No mistaking this tone.
"Ted Brandon, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. To be so--so mean tomother."
"Mean to mother! Who said anything about mother?"
"This is mother's pet scheme."
"Pretty queer scheme to keep us cooped up all vacation." He rocked thebasket vigorously.
"We won't have to stay in much at all. Why, just odd times, andbesides--" Nancy paused to pat her hair. She might have patted itwithout pausing but her small brother Ted would then have been lessimpressed by her assumed dignity, "you see, Teddy, I'm working for aprinciple. I don't believe that girls should do a bit more houseworkthan boys."
"Oh, I know you believe that all-righty." Ted allowed himself to sighbut did not pause to do so. He kept right on rocking and snapping theblade of his pen-knife open and shut, as if the snap meant somethingeither useful or amusing.
"Well, I guess I know what I'm talking about," declared Nancy, "and now,even mother has come around to agree with me. She's going right on withher office work and you and I are to run this lovely little shop."
"You mean _you_ are to run the shop and _I'll_ wash the dishes." Deepestscorn and seething irony hissed through Teddy's words. He even flippedthe pen-knife into the sink board and nicked, but did not break, theapple-sauce dish.
"Of course you must do your part." Nancy lifted up two dishes and setthem down again.
"And yours, if you have your say. Oh, what's the use of talkin' togirls?" Ted tumbled out of the basket, pushed it over until it bangedinto a soap box, then straightening up his firm young shoulders, heprepared to leave the scene.
"There's no use talking to girls, Ted," replied his sister, "if youdon't talk sense."
"Sense!" He jammed his cap upon his head although he didn't have anyidea of wearing it on this beautiful day. The fact was, Teddy and Nancywere disagreeing. But there really wasn't anything unusual about that,for their natures were different, they saw things differently, and ifthey had been polite enough to agree they would simply have been foolingeach other.
Nancy smiled lovingly, however, at the boy, as he banged the door. Whata darling Ted was! So honest and so scrappy! Of all things hateful toNancy Brandon a "sissy" boy, as she described a certain type, was theworst.
"But I suppose," she ruminated serenely, "the old breakfast dishes havegot to be done." Another lifting up and setting down of a couple ofchina pieces, but further than that Nancy made not the slightestheadway. A small mirror hung in a small hall between the long kitchenand the store. Here Nancy betook herself and proceeded again to pat herdark hair.
She was the type of girl described as willowy, because that word isprettier than some others that might mean tall, lanky, boneless andagile. Nancy had black hair that shone with crow-black luster in spiteof its pronounced curl. Her eyes were dark, snappy and meaningful. Theycould mean love, as when Ted slammed the door, or they could meandanger, as when a boy kicked the black and white kitten. Then again theycould mean devotion, as when Nancy beheld her idolized little mother whowas a business woman as well, and in that capacity, Nancy's model.
A tingle at the bell that was set for the store alarm, sent the girldancing away from the looking-glass.
"Funniest thing about a store," she told herself, "there's alwayssomeone to buy things you haven't got."
The catch was on the screen door and, as Nancy approached it, shediscerned outside, the figure of an elderly woman. It was Miss SarahTownsend from whom her mother had bought the store.
"Oh, good morning, Miss Townsend. I keep the door fastened when I'malone, as I might be busy in the kitchen," apologized Nancy.
"That's right, dear, that's right. And I wouldn't be too much alone if Iwere you," cautioned the woman who was stepping in with the air ofproprietorship, and with her little brown dog sniffing at her heels."Don't you keep your brother with you?"
"Ted? Oh yes, sometimes. But he's a little boy, you know, Miss Townsend,and he must enjoy his vacation." Nancy was making friends with Tiny, thedog, but after a polite sniff or two Tiny was off frisking abouthappily, as any dog might be expected to do when returning to hisold-time home.
Miss Townsend surveyed Nancy critically.
"Of course your brother is a little boy," she said, "but what about you?You're only a little girl."
"Little! Why I'm much stronger than Ted, and years older," declaredNancy, pulling herself up to her fullest height.
The woman smiled tolerantly. She wore glasses so securely fixed beforeher deep-set eyes
that they seemed like a very feature of her face. Shewas a capable looking, elderly woman, and rather comely, but she was, asNancy had quickly observed, "hopelessly old-fashioned."
"We haven't anything fixed up yet," said Nancy apologetically. "You see,mother goes to business and that leaves the store and the house to me."
"Yes. She explained in taking our place that she was doing it to giveyou a chance to try business. But for a girl so young--Come back here,Tiny," she ordered the sniffing, snuffing, frisky little dog.
"If I'm going to be a business woman I've got to start in," interruptedNancy. "They say it's never too early to start at _housework_."
"But that's different. Every girl has to know how to keep house,"insisted Miss Townsend. She was busy straightening a box of spools thatlay upon the little counter, but from her automatic actions it wasperfectly evident that Miss Townsend didn't know she was doing anything.
"I can't see why," retorted Nancy. "Just look at mother. What would shehave done with us if she hadn't understood business?"
Miss Townsend sighed. "Being a widow, my dear--"
"But I may be a widow too," breezed Nancy. "In fact I'm sure to, foreveryone says I'm so much like mother. Do let me fix that box of spools,Miss Townsend. Someone came in for linen thread last night and Teddylooked for it. I'm sure he gave them a ball of cord, for all the cordwas scattered around too." She put the cover on the thread box. "Boysare rather poor at business, I think, especially boys of Teddy's age,"orated the important Nancy.
Miss Townsend agreed without saying so. She was looking over the littleplace in a fidgety, nervous way. Nancy quickly decided this was due toregret that she had given the place up, and therefore sought to make herfeel at ease.
The little brown dog had curled himself up in front of the fireplace ona piece of rug, evidently his own personal property. The fireplace wasclosed up and the stove set back against it, out of the way for summer,and handy-by for winter.
Nancy smiled at the woman who was moving about in a sort of aimlessrestlessness.
"It must seem natural to you to be around here," Nancy ventured.
"Yes, after thirty years--"
"Thirty years!" repeated Nancy, incredulously. "Did you and your brotherlive here all that time?"
"Yes." A prolonged sigh brought Miss Townsend down on the old hickorychair that stood by the door, just out of the way of possible customers.
"Brother Elmer and I kept on here after mother died. In fact, so far asI was concerned, we might have gone on until we died, but there was alittle trouble--"
"Just like me and my brother, I suppose," intervened Nancy, kindly. "Welove each other to death, and yet we are always scrapping."
"In children's way, but that's different, very different," insisted MissTownsend. "With me and Elmer," she sighed again, "it became a very, veryserious matter."
"Oh," faltered Nancy. Things were becoming uncomfortable. That kitchenwork would be growing more formidable, and Nancy had really wanted tosettle the store. She would love to do that, to put all the littlethings in their places, or in new places, as she would surely find a newmethod for their arrangement. She hurried over to the corner shelves.
"I hope no one comes in until I get the place fixed up," she remarked."Mother doesn't intend to buy much new stock until she sees how we getalong."
"That's wise," remarked Miss Townsend. "I suppose I know every stick inthe place," she looked about critically, "and yet I could be just asinterested. I wonder if you wouldn't like me to help you fix things up?I'd just love to do it."
Now this was exactly what Nancy did not want. In fact, she was wishingearnestly that the prim Miss Townsend would take herself off and leaveher to do as she pleased.
"That's kind of you, I'm sure," she said, "but the idea was that Ishould be manager from the start," Nancy laughed lightly to justify thisclaim, "and I'm sure mother would be better pleased if I put the shop inorder. You can come in and see me again when I'm all fixed up," (thisgentle hint was tactful, thought Nancy) "and then you can tell me whatyou think of me as the manager of the Whatnot Shop."
Miss Townsend was actually poking in the corner near the hearth shelfwhere matches, in a tin container, were kept. She heard Nancy but didnot heed her.
"Looking for something?" the girl asked a little sharply.
"Looking?" Yes, that is--"Tiny keep down there," she ordered. "I can'tsee what has got into that dog of late. It was one of the things thatElmer and I were constantly fussing over. Tiny won't let any one touchthings near this chimney without barking his head off. Now just watch."
As she went to the shelf back of the stove the dog sprang alongside ofher. He barked in the happy fashion that goes with rapid tail wagging,and Nancy quickly decided that the dog knew a secret of the old chimney.
Miss Townsend pretended to take things out of the stove.]
Again Miss Townsend pretended to take things out of the stove, and Tinyall but jumped into the low, broad door.
"Now, isn't that--uncanny?" asked the woman, plainly bewildered.
"Oh, no, I don't think so," said Nancy. "All dogs have queer littletricks like that."
"Do they? I'm glad to hear you say so," sighed Miss Townsend, once morepicking up a small box of notions. "You must excuse me, my dear. You seethe habit of a life time--"
"Oh, that's all right, Miss Townsend, I didn't mean to hurry you," spokeup Nancy. "But the morning goes so quickly, and mother may come home tolunch." This possibility brought real anxiety to Nancy. If she had onlyslicked up the kitchen instead of arguing with Teddy. After all theplagued old housework did take some time, she secretly admitted.
But Miss Townsend laid down the unfinished roll of lace edging, althoughshe had most carefully rolled all but a very small end, walked over toNancy, who was just attempting to dust out a tray, and in the mosttragic voice said:
"Nancy, I think you really have a lot of sense."
Nancy chuckled. "I hope so, Miss Townsend."
"I mean to say, that I think you can be trusted."
"Well," stammered Nancy, forcing back another chuckle, "I hope so, tothat too, Miss Townsend." She was surprised at the woman's manner andpuzzled to understand its meaning. The dog was again snoozing on therug.
"Let's sit down," suggested Miss Townsend.
"Oh, all right," faltered Nancy, in despair now of ever catching up onthe delayed work.
"You see, it's this way," began the woman, making room for herself inthe big chair that was serving as storage quarters for Teddy'smiscellany. "Some people are very proud--"
Nancy was simply choking with impatience.
"I mean to say, they are so proud they won't or can't ever give in toeach other."
"Stubborn," suggested Nancy. "I'm that way sometimes."
"And brother and sister," sighed Miss Townsend. "I never could believethat Elmer, my own brother, could, be so--unreasonable."
"Why, what's the matter?" Nancy spoke up. "You seem so unhappy."
"Unhappy is no name for it, I'm wretched." The distress shown on MissTownsend's face was now unmistakable. Nancy forgot even the unwashedbreakfast dishes.
"Can I help you?" she asked kindly.
"Yes, you can. What I want is to come in here sometimes--"
"Why, if you're lonely for your old place," interrupted Nancy.
"It isn't that. In fact I just can't explain," said Miss Townsend,picking up her hand bag, nervously. "But I'm no silly woman. We'veagreed to sell this place to your mother and I'm the last person in theworld to make a nuisance of myself."
"You needn't worry about that," again Nancy intervened, sympathetically.
"You are a kind girl, Nancy Brandon, and I guess your mother has made nomistake in buying the Whatnot Shop for you. You'll be sure to makefriends, and that's what counts next to bargains, in business," declaredthe woman, who had risen from the big chair and was staring at Nancy inthe oddest way.
"If I had a chance--" again the woman paused and bit her thin lip. Sheseemed to dread wha
t she evidently must say.
"I'll be busy here tomorrow," suggested Nancy briskly, "and then perhapsyou would like to help me. But I really would like to get the rough dirtout first. Then we can put things to rights."
"The fact is," continued Miss Townsend, without appearing to hearNancy's suggestion, "I have a suspicion."
"A suspicion? About this--store?"
"Yes, and about my brother. He's an old man and we've never had any realtrouble before, but I'm sorry to say, I can't believe he's telling methe truth about an important matter. That is, it's a very importantmatter to me."
"Oh," said Nancy lamely. She was beginning to have doubts of MissTownsend's mental balance.
"No, Elmer is a good man. He's been a good brother, but there are somethings--" (a long, low, breathful sigh,) "some things we have individualopinions about. And, well, so you won't think me queer if I ask you tolet me tidy the shop?"
"Why--no, of course not, Miss Townsend."
"Thank you, thank you, Nancy Brandon," emotion was choking her words.She was really going now and Tiny with her. "And perhaps it would bejust as well not to say anything about it if my brother should drop in,"concluded the strange woman.
"Oh, do you suppose he will?" asked bewildered Nancy. "I mean, will hedrop in?"
"He's apt to. Elmer is a creature of habit and he's been around here along time, you know." The dark eyes were glistening behind the goldframed glasses. Miss Townsend was still preparing to depart.
Nancy opened the screen door and out darted Tiny.
"Good-bye, my dear, for the present," murmured Miss Townsend, "and Ihope you and your mother and your brother will--be happy--here," shechoked on the words and Nancy had an impression of impending tears. "Wewouldn't have sold out, we _shouldn't_ have sold out, but for ElmerTownsend's foolishness."
Back went the proud head until the lace collar on Sarah Townsend's neckwas jerked out of place, a rare thing indeed to happen to that primlady.
"Good-bye," said Nancy gently, "and come again, Miss Townsend."
"Yes, yes, dear, I shall."
