Mandie Collection, The: 4 (50 page)

“I do, too,” Jonathan said, and turning to the senator he asked, “You haven’t heard anything from my father, have you?”

“No, I’m sorry to say, I haven’t,” Senator Morton replied. “We’ll probably hear from him before we leave Belgium.”

Mandie and Celia had met Jonathan on their way to England when they came to Europe. His father was always too busy to allow the boy to stay home in New York and go to school there, so he was sent from one private school to another in various countries. Senator Morton had contacted Mr. Guyer and asked permission for Jonathan to visit awhile with his relatives who were working for a newspaper in Paris. So far no decision had been made.

After everyone had finished the noon meal, Mrs. Taft decided it was time to visit the art museum.

“Now that we’ve eaten and rested awhile, shall we go on to the art museum?” she asked Senator Morton.

“I was going to suggest the same thing,” he said, smiling as he assisted her to rise from the table.

Their carriage had waited at a nearby corner, and as they walked toward it the young people drifted behind to talk.

“Maybe this art museum is the last place for today and we can go back to the hotel to rest,” Mandie whispered to the others.

“I think I know what kind of resting you’ll be doing,” Jonathan teased.

Mandie smiled at him as she held Snowball in her arms and said, “I’ll rest for a while and then I’d like to go for a walk down on the wharf.”

“And back to that old dilapidated boat,” Celia added.

Mandie nodded. “I’d just like to see it again and figure out a way to get on it.”

“I think I know how,” Jonathan said softly.

“Amanda, Celia, Jonathan, get a move on now,” Mrs. Taft called to them as she waited by the carriage ahead.

The three hurried forward.

“Tell me how,” Mandie said under her breath.

“Soon as I get a chance,” Jonathan promised.

Once they were all inside the carriage, Senator Morton gave the driver instructions to go to the art museum. It took only a few minutes to get there. The vehicle came to a stop in front of a small plain-looking building.

“This is the museum?” Mandie questioned as the three young people left the carriage behind the adults and looked around.

“Yes, dear, this is a private museum that has some priceless treasures,” Mrs. Taft told her.

As they neared the front entrance, Mandie noticed a large group of people evidently waiting to go inside.

“Is it open, Grandmother?” she asked.

“Oh, goodness!” Mrs. Taft said as she looked about and turned to the senator. “Is it open? Why are all these people here?”

“I’ll check,” Senator Morton said, quickly leaving them to go ahead and speak to the guard at the entrance. He returned to inform Mrs. Taft that the museum was open now, but it had been closed all day because of a robbery early that morning.

“A robbery!” Mrs. Taft exclaimed. “What was stolen?”

“It seems one of Peter Paul Rubens’ oldest paintings was missing when they opened this morning. But they’ve finally decided to let people in, so it shouldn’t take us long to get inside.”

“A Rubens!” Mrs. Taft exclaimed. “It must be priceless!”

The three young people had listened with interest upon hearing a mystery surrounded this museum. They quickly discussed it in whispers among themselves as they waited in line.

“A painting!” Mandie said. “That man in the elevator had a painting with him and it was all wrapped up.”

“Oh, Mandie, that doesn’t mean he stole it,” Celia said.

“But he acted strange, Celia,” Jonathan told her.

“Yes, like he was afraid someone was following him or something,” Mandie whispered. “And he was a mean person, too, because he intended to kick Snowball.” She held her kitten close to her.

“Too bad we didn’t follow him to see where he went,” Jonathan said.

“No way we could’ve done that with Grandmother waiting for us,” Mandie said softly as they moved forward in line.

Mrs. Taft looked back.

“We’re right behind you, Grandmother,” Mandie assured her with a smile.

“Be sure you stay there when we get caught in the squeeze at the doorway,” Mrs. Taft told her and then turned back to converse with Senator Morton as the line moved forward.

Once they got inside the museum, it was hard to see anything because there seemed to be so many people and all of them taller than Mandie and her friends.

“Let’s find the place where the Rubens should be,” Mrs. Taft told Senator Morton, and then she turned to look back at the young people. “Don’t lose us now.”

Mandie and her friends followed, and when Mrs. Taft and Senator Morton finally stopped, Mandie tried to see what they were looking at. Evidently a large piece of muslin had been draped over the spot where the Rubens had hung. There were other pictures surrounding it. Mandie edged closer, and when she managed to get in front of everyone else, she reached over the rail and flipped the muslin out from the wall. The bottom of it was loose.

“Look!” she whispered to her friends. “You can see the outline of where it was hung, and it wasn’t a very big painting at all.”

Jonathan and Celia silently agreed.

“Amanda! What are you doing?” Mrs. Taft quickly asked as she saw Mandie flipping the muslin. “Don’t touch that!”

A strong male voice from behind her added, “Do not touch!” Mandie glanced back to see a guard watching. She smiled at him and said, “Sorry, I just wanted to see how big it was.”

The guard did not smile as he repeated, “Do not touch!”

“We apologize,” Mrs. Taft said to the man and then urged the senator on down the line, adding to the young people, “Come along now.”

“You’re going to catch it when we get out of here,” Jonathan whispered to Mandie.

Mandie didn’t answer but walked along behind her grandmother. Celia followed.

When Mrs. Taft finally decided it was time to go, the three young people followed her and the senator back to the carriage. On the way Mandie and her friends discussed the missing painting.

“I believe the painting the man had in the hotel was the same size as the one that’s missing,” Mandie declared in a whisper.

“I agree,” Jonathan said.

“Well, I didn’t exactly notice what the man had so I don’t know,” Celia added.

“I think we have another mystery we may be able to solve,” Mandie said, smiling at her friends. “All we need to do is find out who that man was that we saw and where he went.”

“That’s impossible, Mandie,” Jonathan said under his breath. “But knowing you, you don’t believe in the word ‘impossible,’ do you?”

“That’s right,” Mandie said, her blue eyes twinkling. “We can always find a way.”

CHAPTER THREE

AN ARGUMENT

Mandie was hoping to get a chance to ask Jonathan how he thought they could get on the abandoned boat, but when they arrived at their hotel, Mrs. Taft immediately spoke to Mandie.

“Amanda, please come to my suite. We have something to discuss,” Mrs. Taft told her as they walked along the corridor.

Mandie silently groaned. She knew what the discussion was to be about.

“Yes, Grandmother,” she said, and turning to Celia she told her, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She smiled at Jonathan, who was following Senator Morton on down the hallway to their suite.

“Let me take Snowball,” Celia offered and reached to get the kitten from Mandie. She went on into the rooms she shared with Mandie.

Once inside Mrs. Taft’s suite, Mandie took off her bonnet and ran her fingers through her blond hair. She knew her grandmother could be stern sometimes.

“Sit down, Amanda,” Mrs. Taft told her as the lady also removed her bonnet and sat on the settee beside Mandie.

“I’m sorry, Grandmother. I know what we are going to talk about. I shouldn’t have fiddled with that piece of muslin in the museum,” Mandie quickly said, watching her grandmother’s face.

“You are exactly right,” Mrs. Taft said, frowning. “You must learn
to grow up and act like a young lady. You are entirely too impulsive, Amanda. That was embarrassing for the guard to speak to you like that.”

“Please forgive me, Grandmother,” Mandie said with a hint of tears in her blue eyes. “I am really and truly sorry. I guess I haven’t been around people like you long enough to know what to do and not to do. My first eleven years with my father were in the mountains where everyone acted natural and didn’t have to worry about what other people thought.” She said all this in one breath.

Mrs. Taft looked at her and reached to hold her hand. “I keep forgetting you were denied the better things in life because your father took you and went to live with that woman in the hills,” she said.

Mandie immediately jerked her hand from Mrs. Taft’s and stood up, her blue eyes full of anger.

“My father married ‘that woman,’ as you call her, because you separated my mother and father because he was part Cherokee, and you didn’t want your daughter married to a ‘half-breed,’ and you told lies to my mother and—” Mandie was almost screaming at her grandmother.

Mrs. Taft quickly stood up and tried to put an arm around Mandie, but Mandie moved away from her.

“I know, I know, dear,” Mrs. Taft interrupted her. “I am to blame, and I will regret my actions the rest of my life, but you can’t undo deeds you’ve done. I can only hope you have forgiven me. And I do try to be a real grandmother to you because you are my real granddaughter, no matter what your heritage is—”

“My heritage is part Cherokee, and you try to ignore it but it’s the truth,” Mandie said with a tremor in her angry voice. “I want to go home to my mother!” She broke into loud sobs and ran for the door.

Mrs. Taft tried to stop her. “Amanda, we must forgive each other. We can’t hold grudges. Amanda!”

Mandie was fumbling with the door handle and finally got it open. She raced outside and down the hallway to her room. Mrs. Taft stood in her doorway watching.

Mandie almost knocked Celia down as she pushed open the heavy door to their rooms.

“Mandie! What’s wrong?” Celia asked in alarm.

Mandie ran into her bedroom and sat in a big upholstered chair by
the window. She hugged her knees and bent her head as she shook with sobs. Snowball tried to get on her lap as he loudly meowed.

“Mandie!” Celia said, following her into the room. “Can I do anything? Tell me, Mandie. What happened?” She stooped in front of her friend.

Mandie ignored her and sobbed on.

“Look, there’s something wrong, I can tell, Mandie,” Celia insisted as she tried to reach for her friend’s hand, but Mandie swiftly curled up away from Celia. “Mandie, I’m your friend, you know that. We’ve always shared all our secrets and sorrows. Please tell me what’s the matter with you. I want to help. You are my dearest friend, Mandie.” Celia watched closely.

Mandie took a deep breath, trying to control the sobs, then hiccupped loudly. She wiped her tears with the hem of her long skirt as she raised her head to look at Celia through tear-filled eyes. Celia was her dearest friend, and she had nothing to do with the distress Mandie felt now. It was unfair of her not to confide in Celia.

“I...I...my... my grandmother...” Mandie tried to speak as her voice quivered. And then quickly she said, “Celia, I want to go home to my mother.”

Celia looked at her in surprise. “Why, Mandie? I thought we were having a good time over here in Europe. Tell me, why do you want to go home?”

“Because my grandmother said—” Mandie stopped as she found she just couldn’t put the scene with her grandmother into words. She drew a deep breath and went on. “My grandmother and I had an argument.”

“About the muslin in the museum that you lifted?” Celia asked, continuing to stoop in front of her friend.

Mandie nodded. “And other things. I want to go home to my mother.” She straightened up in the chair.

Celia sat on the floor. “Mandie, I don’t think you really want to go home to your mother right now. I think you’re just mad at your grandmother about something. Remember what Uncle Ned always says. Think. Think things through. Think about every little detail. And when you do this, things won’t seem as bad as you thought they were.”

Mandie slid from the chair onto the floor and embraced her friend.

“Celia, you are so dear to me,” Mandie told her. “I wish you were my sister.”

“You are like a sister to me, too, Mandie, because I’ve never had a sister or a brother. You at least have a little brother back home,” Celia said as the girls straightened up to look at each other.

“I know. I also remember being jealous of him. Oh, Celia, I think I’m really a bad person. I seem to do so many things wrong,” Mandie said, leaning back against the chair as she sat on the floor.

“I do bad things too, Mandie,” Celia said. “Even though I’ve always had my mother to teach and guide me through terrible situations, I don’t seem to learn very well.”

Mandie smiled at her friend. “Oh, Celia, you are an angel compared with me. I try real hard but I don’t always behave as I should. Celia, do you think it’s because I’m part Cherokee?”

Celia looked shocked at the idea. She laughed. “Mandie, where did you get such a crazy idea? Look at how good Uncle Ned is, and he’s full-blooded Cherokee.”

Mandie hung her head and said softly, “My grandmother hates the Cherokee part of me.”

“That’s why you were crying,” Celia said.

“She made some remarks that I thought weren’t fair,” Mandie said, standing up and straightening her crumpled skirt. She decided she had said enough about the scene with her grandmother. “Let’s see if we can talk to Jonathan. He was going to tell us how we could get on that old boat down at the wharf.”

Celia also stood and said, “Mandie, there you go. We are expected to rest until it’s time to go out for supper tonight.”

“I can’t rest. Besides, my grandmother didn’t exactly say we had to rest. She said
she
was going to rest and that we would meet later for supper,” Mandie told her. She tied on her bonnet and walked over to open the door. Snowball followed.

“Well, I suppose I’ll go with you,” Celia said, reaching for her bonnet and putting it on. “Are we taking Snowball?”

“Absolutely no,” Mandie said, bending to pick him up and going toward the bathroom. “I’ll put him in here and shut the door. And hope no one comes in our rooms and lets him out.”