Missy

to "that O'Neill girl"; she asserted that ever since Tess O'Neill had come to live in Cherryvale Missy had been "up to" just on

ad Missy just stood there and let it keep stinging her? And Missy felt shy at trying to explain it was because the wasp was stinging her LEG. Mother

r own nature as overwhelmed by her disgraceful predicament. For she was certainly sincere in her c

e had patted her hand and acted like an angel when he paid for the bucket of candy-that candy which none of them got even a taste of

had had superior advantages-city life, to Missy, a Cherryvalian from birth, sounded exotic and intriguing. Then Tess in her nature was far from ordinary. She was characterized by a certain dash and fine flair; was inventive, fearless

the Iolanthians like Mabel Dowd, nor conspicuously popular with the boys like Genevieve Hicks. No, she possessed no distinctive traits anybody cou

romantic figure. Her name was Mrs. Shears and she had lived her girlhood in a New England seaport town, and her father had been captain of a vessel which sailed to and from far Eastern shores. He had brought back from those long-ago voyages bales and bales of splendid Oriental fabrics-stiff rustling silks and slinky clinging crepes and indescribably brilliant brocades shot with silver or with gold. For nearly fifty years Mrs. Shears had worn dresses made from these romantic stuffs and she was wearing them y

But Tess gave Missy little chance to do this. Tess had heard and re-heard the adventures to the point of boredom and custom had cau

ind-the-times Cherryvale. But in almost every direction she encountered difficulties: there was in Cherryvale no place to swim except muddy Bull Creek-and the girls' mothers unanimously vetoed that; and there were no links for golf; and the girls themselves didn't enthuse greatly over tennis thos

simply because she was afraid. What she was afraid of she couldn't have specified. Not of old Ben surely, for she knew him to be the gentlest of horses. When she stood on the ground beside him, stroking his shaggy, uncurried flanks or feeding him bits of sugar, she felt not the slightest fear. Yet the minute she climbed up into the saddle she sickened under the grip of some increasingly heart-stilling panic. Even before Ben started forward; so it

Missy still ignominiously footing it in the rear, had to pass the group of loafers in front o

eared in Pieker's doorw

he greeted Tess. "Dar

quality Missy envied in her friend, her unfailing insouciance. "

hur turned his grin to Missy. "What's the

time from their chewing and spitting to guf

asked Arthur,

, a girl whom Missy privately deemed frivolous and light-minded. Besides Missy herself was, at this time, interested in Raymond Bonner, the handsomest boy in "the crowd." Missy liked good looks-they appealed to the imagination or something. And she adored everything that appealed to the imagination: there was, for instance, the picture of Sir Galahad, in shining armour, which hung on the wall of her room-for a time she had almost said her prayers to that picture; and there was a compelling mental image of the gallant Sir Launcelot in "Idylls of the King" and of the stern, repressed, silently suffering Guy in "Airy F

thur had seen her in such a sorry plight. She wished he might see her at a better advantage. For instance, galloping up on a spirited mount, in a modish r

swagger togs-a notion mad to absurdity-she could never

l somewhat bitterly ru

eating your omelet,

s came back

ndering-" then

Missy's hazy thoughts took a sud

e, you'd give me an old p

earth for

g the question. "Maybe that pepper-and-sal

eeds them disgracefully-the last time he mowed the yard I

a pair of Mr. Allen's-Kitty said she was

y wished Aunt Nettie had been invited out to supper; Aunt Nettie was

he tried to make her tone insouciant, but s

cy-work! For heaven's sak

"Give 'em to her if she wants 'em, dear. Maybe she'll make a lambrequin for the pia

xpense so much as most grown-ups'. Besides she was grateful to h

of thick gold light steal across the soft slick grass to reach to your very soul, and smell the heavenly sweetness of dew-damp roses, and listen to the shrill yet mournful even-song of the locusts-when you sit

he loved the dotted Swiss curtains blowing, and the white-valanced little bed, and the white-valanced little dressing-table all dim and misty save where a broad shaft of light gave a divine patch of illumination

that Poppylinda, her cat, had come to say go

he said. "See!-it's just like a gre

son could not endure. This point she tried to make once when Poppy had been convicted of a felonious scratch, but of course the grown-ups couldn't follow her reasoning. Long since she'd given up trying to make clear the real merits of her pet; she only knew that Poppy was more loving and lovable, more sympathetic and comprehending, than the majority of humans. She could count on Poppy's never jarring on any mood, whether grave or gay. Poppy adored listening to poetry read aloud, sitting immovable save for slowly blinking eyes for an hour at a stretch. She even had an appreciation for music, often remaining in the pa

and peace. A sort of sad enjoyment, but pleasantly sad. Occasionally she sighed, but it was a sigh of deep content

ots and pepper-and-salt riding-breeches, galloping up to Pieker's grocery and there, in the admiring view of th

e than a fleeting phantasm, had not Tess, the

s, or when she pricked up her ears with an alert listening gesture, or when she turned her head and switched her tail with nonchalant unconcern-oh, it is impossible to describe the charm of Gypsy. That was it-"charm"; and the minute Missy laid eyes on the darli

yard of the sanitarium while she and Missy slipped off to the summerhouse to enjoy a few stolen chapters from "The Duchess." There was high need f

y, who had sauntered up to the summerhouse door, poked in an inquisitive nose. Mrs. O'Neill didn

s. "Gypsy's still there-just standing and loo

she cute?"

t the sunny sward, a hand pushed Gypsy's head

you'd better teach that pony not to stand with her h

but neither of the miscreants had the

tainly

Tess snapped off a peach-tree switch and, finally cornering the pony, proceeded to use it. Missy pleaded, but Tess stood firm for discipline. However Gypsy revenged herself; for two hours

rls ejaculated a

en a block before-wrench!-something happened to the saddle, and Tess was left seated by the roadside while Gy

deliberately shirked. Even reading had lost much of its wonted charm: the haunting, soul-swelling rhythms of poetry, or the oddly phrased medieval romances which somehow carried you back through the centuries-into the very presence of those que

s, Missy never felt a tremor while on her. On Gypsy she cantered, she trotted, she galloped, just as naturally and enjoyably as though she had been born on horseback. Then one epochal day, emulating Tess's example, she essayed to r

f only it had been anybody but Rev. MacGill! Missy cherished a secret but profound admiration for Rev. MacGill; he had come recently to Cherryvale and was younger than ministers usually are and, though not exactly handsome, had fascinating dark glowing e

m! Get down off that

gracefully since her legs were not yet

oria. "I don't know what this generation's coming to," she lamented, turning to the minister. "Young girls tr

's presence, the phrase didn't

harm," he replied. "Just

e grateful for his tolerance or only more chagrined because he was laughin

hen, to Missy: "Now take that pony back to the lot, plea

ivered, as she led Gypsy back, though she knew she was blushing furiou

Missy. "I can never f

good sport

an awful ca

her grandmother often before, but now, for the first time, she d

s had made her "call down" Missy-in front of the minister. Just as if Missy were a child. Fifteen is not a child, to itself. And i

led emotions. Of course she thrilled at the prospect of eating at the same table with him-listening to a person at table, and watching him eat, gives you a singular sense of intimacy. But there was that riding astride episode. Would he, maybe

chancing to ride by home on her way back to

you to gather

ve to take Gyp

deep-dish peach pie. I hear Rev. MacGill's especially fond of it. You c

yard and took the pail her

d pucker, "but they'll have to do. They have some lovely peaches a

for election on the Board of Aldermen. Father explained it was a larger issue than party politics; even had Picker been a Republican he'd have fought him, he said, for everyone knew Picker was abe

ely-ripe peaches for a deep-dish pie. Being horribly afraid of climbing, she used th

window. "That horse is slobbering all over the pea

l have to t

ies her up in

lobbering over the fruit,

tree," said Mi

l-but she couldn't bear the vision of Gypsy's reproachful eyes above a strangling ha

t, had a few bad moments. WOULD he mention it? He might think it his duty, think that mother should know. It was maybe his duty to tell. Preachers have a sterner creed of duty than other people, of course. She regarded him anxiously from under the veil of her lashes, wondering what would happen if h

ng and quince jelly, and the election, and the repairs on the church steeple, and things like that. Now and then he caught Missy's eye, but

y words that everything was all right, for her not to worry the least little bit. All of a sudden she felt blissfully at peace. She smiled at him for no reason at all, and he smiled back-a nice, not at all amused kind of smile. Oh, he was a perfect brick! And what glorious eyes he had! And that fascinating habit of flinging his hair b

coated, fragrant and savory-and placed it on the serving-table near the open window. There was a bit, of wire loose at the lower end of the screen, and, in the one second Marguerite's back was turned-just

d up-but it was too late. Mrs. Merriam viciously struck at Gypsy's

" she cried angrily.

to pass the calamity off as a joke. But his hostess wasn't capable of an answ

t wailed. "It was a deep-dish peach pi

of peach pie, anyway," said the

hat at her house you took two helpings-tha

tuation; then, always tactful, replied: "Perhaps I did say that-her peach p

stion. "Couldn't you just take off the top crust, mother?

st have made a faux pas. Father and Rev. MacGill laugh

tee. Why did Aunt Nettie like to put her "in wrong"? Her suggestion seemed to her perfectly reasonable. Why didn't they act on it? But of course they'd ignore it, just making fun of her now but punishing her afterwa

tear herself away from t

. MacGill doesn't get to taste anything like that every day." He turned to the minister. "The world's full of apple sauc

owed he had never eaten such apple sauce. But Mrs. Merriam still looked bleak. She knew she could make a better deep-dish peach pie th

she wished Rev. MacGill might have had his pie-she liked Rev. MacGill better than ever. But

fears prov

t back to Tess. This is the last straw! For days you've been no earthly use-your pra

nt on inflexibly: "I don't want you ever to bring it here again. And you can't g

argument, "I oughtn't to give up such a fi

se, for Aunt Nettie wa

"Well, I must admit there's one thing horsey enoug

o make her tone chilly. "I wish you wouldn'

I suppose Missy sees herself riding to hounds! All dressed up in a si

had, in truth, harboured this ridiculed visio

e with what seemed to her niece unparallelled malice. "Helen Alison says the Do

y. "Don't let me ever hear of

general attitude of dejection. "I can't tolerate tomboys."

eill girl," sa

g the loss of her sweet, shy, old-fashioned little

the morning. Right here I'm going to put my foot down. It isn't because I want to be harsh-but you never seem to know when to st

unjust tirade was that Missy should not go

ys are long. At first Missy didn't see how she was ever to live through the endless period, but, strangely enough, the dragging days brought to her a change of mood. It is od

summerhouse and made her catch her breath in ecstasy. All of a sudden she wanted nothing so much as to get a book and steal off alone somewhere. The right kind of a bo

e: the slick greensward of all the lawns, glistening under the torrid azure of the great arched sky, made walking along the shady sidewalk inexpressibly sweet; the many-hued flowers in all the flow

d up from her sewing to watch th

rl back again," she ob

ove away," Aunt Nettie said.

e right kind, though different. One was called "Famous Heroines of Medieval Legend." They all had names of strange beauty and splendour-Guinevere-Elaine-Vivien-names which softly rustled in syllables of silken brocade. The other book was no less sat

to the making of man Grief with her gift o

qually

ef thanksgiving whatever gods may be That no life lives forever; that dead m

erses of her own when she should find a quiet hour in the summerhou

red as appreciatively as for "The Maiden's Prayer." Dear Poppy! Missy felt suddenly contrite for her defection from faithful Poppy. And Poppy was getting old-Aunt Nettie said she'd already lived much longer than most cats. She might die soon. Through a swif

ing her week of punishment-that she WAS enjoying it. Why was she enjoying it, since, when mother first banned a

that really deserves the blame for Missy's climactic athletic catastrophe. No lightning-bolt struck, yet that thunder-s

r, the morning didn't go well. It was close and sultry and, though she tried to make her fingers march and trot and gallop as the exercises dictated, something in the oppressive air set her nerves to tingling. Besides it grew so dark she

nged to go and sit close to mother, to feel the protection of her presence; but, despite the general softening of her mood, she had maintai

d Gypsy was afraid of thunder-storms-awfully afraid. And Gypsy was

cajoleries, kept rising before her. She felt a stab of remorse; that she could have let even the delights of reading and improvising compensate

So, without umbrella or hat, she stole out the front door. Above was a continuous network of flame as though someone were scratching immense matches all over the surface of heav

hey mutely comforted each other. It was thus that Tess discovered them; she, too, had run to Gypsy though it had t

," Missy couldn't forebear commen

E to go out in the rain anyway. Guess I can be d

e the shadow of jealousy. Before the summer storm had impetuously spent itself, the friends were crowded companionably in the fe

en in a magazine at the Library. It was a society story

against her boot, and a derby hat and stock-collar and riding

icate?" ventured Missy, remembering her

ars 'em and she's awfully swell. Her father's a banker. She's in the thick

self misunderstood by her family and mal

ess you're up to date. You got to be up to date. Of course Cher

t she didn't intend really to appropriate them, but Tess caught up the idea enthusiastically. She immediately began making conc

ther, looking worried

that straggly hair! And that dress, fre

anxiety between mother's eyes

tend to be afraid of thunder-storms! Now, Missy, it isn't because you've ruined your dress or likely

better because she felt she didn't deserve them. That heavy sense of injustice somewhat deadened any p

eyes chanced to see her.

ssy wants of those old

know, Net

me coming up the stairs, she scampered as if Satan w

ing tea-kettle; you know; their imagination keeps bubbling up and spilling over, and then disappears int

ng the compunctions mothers oft

comparative seclusion of the sanitarium barn. There has been, for an hour or more, a suppressed sound of giggles, and Gypsy, sensing excitement in th

ful! It's simply too swagger fo

ce of swaggerness, she was conscious of a certain uneasiness. She knew she shouldn't feel embarrassed; she should feel only swagger. But she couldn't help a sense of awkwardness, almost of distaste; her legs felt-and LOOKED-so queer! So conspicuous! The upper halves of them w

gings look all right?"

look all right!

ome boots," with

of 'em in Macon City only wore puttees.

ed the horsewoman. "My legs

n a tentative kick, she was interrupted by t

espondently. "I SAID

reproved Tess. "No wonder it popped off.

afety-pin!-I'd ra

and O'Neill were both, selfishly, very large men; Tess had brilliantly bethought the sweater-the English always wore scarlet for hunting, anyway. Missy then had warmly applauded the inspiration, but now her wa

ys wear their hats way down over their ears." Then, a little vexed a

say so! I'LL wear it! I only let you

on that the first wearing of the costume should make up f

e declared. "I think it's just fi

it and just that the trick turned topsy-turvy on herself as it did. Yet the notion did not come to her in the guise of a trick on Tess.

ousness of the route, the lack of an admiring audience, which gave birth to Missy's startling Idea. Back in the barn she'd felt self-conscious. But now she was getting used to her exposed legs. And doing really splendidly on Dr. O'Neill's saddle. Sitting there astride, swaying in gentle rh

other way, now. And Arthur Simpson, too. Maybe she'd even ride into Pieker's store!-that certainly would surprise Arthur. True it was Tess he'd "dared," but of course he had not dreamed SHE, Missy, would ever take it up. He considered her unathletic

d back toward the town, gently swaying in unison with her mount, her pepper-and-salt

r unimpressed; past the Court House whence a group of men were emerging and stopped dead to stare; past the Post Office where

jaculated. "Where

her crop and speaking insouciantly. She was scarcely aware of the ex

u could get her in!-Y

here was a queer look in her eyes-she didn't look herself at all. He was afraid she might really do that crazy stunt; and he was afraid the boss might return from lunch an

she retorted derisiv

ed her mount directly toward the sidewalk

y cats!" he again invoked fervently. Then: "Head he

t just meagre little bits, doled out to her stingily bite by bite. And, as if these delectables had been

ng at the bridle. "Get her out! The old man's liable

hur in tugging at the bridle. Gypsy only planted her dainty forefeet and continued her repast in a manner not dainty at all. Missy began to feel a little desperate; that former fine frenzy, that divine madness, that magnificent tingle of aplomb and dash, was dwindling away. She was conscious

ent, were circling round and round! She saw them in terrified fascination-they were scattering!-zizzing horribly, threateningl

ing downward, now for a second lost in some voluminous fold. She found time to return thanks that her breeches had been cut with that smart bouffance. Then she cringed as she felt it again. How had It got in there

rthur. "Don't just stand the

y terror, she stood, legs wide apart, for her life's sake unable to move. She had lost count of time, but was agonizedly aware of its passa

alamity's approach intensifying his

s, there was Mr. Picker, elbowing his way through the crowd. Then an icy trickle

this?" deman

-souled being she had once called "friend," that sh

. Picker. She jus

imple expedient strangely unthought-of before-by merely

Missy and eyed h

cut home. If I was your mamma, I'd give

! And with Rev. MacGill standing there hearing-

e felt she'd rather have been stung to death than to have had him there. But he was there, and he led Gypsy, quite t

had begun it all, suddenly soft as silk; and there was the wasp, who had brought on the horrendous climax, suddenly and mysteriously vanished. Of course Missy was glad t

r Gypsy to her stall-oh, he was wonderful, though she almost wished he'd have to leave town unexpect

er wider disgrace; at present mother was enough. Mother was fearfully angry-Missy knew she would never understand. She said harsher things than she'd ever said before. Making such a s

e. "Ever since she came here to live, Missy's

ct that mother had just said harsh things, that she was going to punish her, that she never understood. A longing welled

couldn't explain it in words, anyway-not even to herself. So she stood first o

mething that would ameliorate her cond

rry. But it wouldn't have come out quite so bad-I could have man

question

d you know how scared to death I am of wasps. I KNOW I could have managed Gypsy, but when I felt that was

was the matter," queried mothe

didn't

and there and let it

nation. Mother had accused her of immodesty: riding astride and wearing those scandalous pepper-and-salts and s

le

o her room. Mother had ruled she must stay there, in disgrace,

short or gl

art wasn't entirely unsympathetic. Even though he told her Mr. Picker had made him pay for the b

I'm sorry!-

her hand. He

t home?" brighte

t home?" a

the

ourse

ad to pay for it. The bott

glad to see the serious look removed from his

nightgown by the window, gazing out at the white moonlight and trying to summon the lovely

really cross with mother. She climbed into bed and, with a certain degree of comfort, w

. "Tess is very sick. It seems she and

said

en difficult of expression. But, after mother had kissed her good night and gone, she lay pondering for a long time. Life is curiously unfair. That Tess and Arthur should h

fe was

r.. . but you don't have to be really athletic to ride a pony-you don't have to wear breeches and do things like that... Arthur wasn't so much, anyway-he had freckles and red hair and there was nothing romantic about him... Sir Galahad would never have been s

white sheet, to kiss the