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Dakie Thayne was stage-manager and curtain-puller; Sin Saxon and Frank Scherman represented audience, with clapping and stamping, and laughter that suspended both, making as nearly the noise of two hundred as two could, this being an essential part of the rehearsal in respect to the untried nerves of the debutant, which might easily be a little uncertain. "He stands fire like a Yankee veteran."
"You never knew anything like it," said Jeannie to her friend Ginevra, talking it all over with her that evening in a bit of a visit to Mrs. Thoresby's room. "I never saw anybody take so among strangers. Madam Routh was delighted with her; and so, I should think, was Mr. Scherman.
"I could go for them right off. What time do you have tea?" Really, Asenath Scherman had never acted in a charade where her cues were so unexpected. "I wonder if I'm getting mixed up again," she thought. "Which is the cook?" Of course a cook never would have offered to go out and order muffins and oysters. Mrs. Scherman could not have asked it of the parlor-maid. Kate Sencerbox relieved her.
She caught up pencil and paper, and the other fragment also, Mrs. Scherman's own rhyme about the "peaches." Mrs. Scherman met her at the parlor door. "I'm sorry to interrupt you," she said; "but the baby is stirring. Could you, or Kate, go up and try to hush her off again? If I go, she'll keep me." "I will," said Bel. "Here is that 'Crambo' you were talking of at tea, Mrs. Scherman. I kept it.
"Just three minutes' work; and a warm, fresh supper to make it worth while. Besides rubbing the silver once in four weeks, instead of every Friday. A Yankee kitchen is a labor-saving institution, Mrs. Scherman says." Down came the waiter again, and down the stairs came Bel. Kate brought two more cups and plates and napkins. "Now, girls, come and take some tea," she said, drawing up the chairs.
And well, they're nice enough, I suppose; only there's never room enough for everybody." "I thought we were all to be nowhere when she first came. There was something about her, I don't know what, not wonderful, but taking. 'Put her where you pleased, she was the central point of the picture, Frank said." This came from Josie Scherman.
Leslie Goldthwaite had been away for three days, staying with her friend, Mrs. Frank Scherman, in Boston. She had found Olivia's note, of Monday evening, when she returned; also, she heard of Rosamond's verbal invitation. Leslie was very bright about these things. She saw in a moment how it had been.
Scherman from Lovejoy's, and tacked carefully down by seam and stripe, under Asenath's personal direction; cradle, rocking-horse, baby-house, tin carts and picture-books removed from the nursery and arranged in the new quarters, the children themselves following back and forth untiringly with their one-foot-foremost hop over the stairs, and their hands clasping the rods of the balusters, some little shabby treasure always hugged in the spare arm, chairs and crickets, and the low table suited to their baby-chairs, at which they played and ate, transferred also; until Asenath stood with a sudden sadness in the deserted chamber, reduced to the regular bedroom furnishings, and looking dead and bleak with the little life gone out of it.
"Don't be frightened at anything you may find," Mrs. Scherman said to her as she went. "I won't answer for the insides of cupboards and pans. But we will make it all right as fast as possible. You shall have help if you need it; and at the worst, we can throw away and get new, you know.
"Miss Craydocke began, and I had to scream at her; even Sin Scherman made a little moral speech about her own wild ways, and set that baby crowing over me! And once Aunt Trixie 'vummed' at me. And I'm sure I ain't doing a single thing!"
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