The Mandie Collection (22 page)

“Yes, a box with sand in it for his bathroom,” Mandie tried to explain. “Come to think of it, I wonder if Jonathan realizes that dog might mess up the back porch?” She tried to see through the garden to the back porch. Zelda had brought them outside through another door that opened into a patio.

Zelda didn't reply but stood there still watching the cat.

“Do you know where Jonathan is? Could you tell him I'm out here in the backyard?” Mandie asked.

Zelda didn't seem to understand what Mandie wanted and kept looking at her.

Mandie tried again. “Jonathan? Get him,” she said slowly.

“Get zee leetle man,” Zelda finally replied. She shook her head and turned back to the house. “Get zee leetle man.” She went inside.

In a few minutes Jonathan came rushing out the door. “What's wrong?” he asked, hurrying over to her.

“We don't have a sandbox for Snowball in our room, and we almost didn't get down here in time,” Mandie told him.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have thought of that,” Jonathan said. Then with a big grin he added, “I will ask Monet to put one together and deliver it to your room right away.”

“Monet? But, Jonathan—” Mandie began.

“Yes, Monet,” he repeated. “I like to bring her down to earth now and then and make her realize she is being paid to work.” He grinned.

“That is downright mean of you, Jonathan,” Mandie replied as she moved around holding the end of the leash. “If you'll get me some kind of container, I will make a sandbox myself.”

“Oh no, as my father would say, Monet will,” Jonathan promised as he went back toward the door into the house. “You will have a sandbox shortly.”

Mandie stopped him as she called, “Wait! I don't know the way back to our room. I think Snowball is all right now.”

“Come on then,” Jonathan replied.

Mandie picked up Snowball and she followed Jonathan into the house, through two different hallways, and finally to the staircase.

“Thanks, I know the way from here,” Mandie told him.

“One sandbox coming up,” Jonathan promised as he walked down the hallway.

When she got back to their room, Mandie explained to Celia how Jonathan was going to get a sandbox.

“I didn't realize Jonathan could act like that,” Mandie said in a disappointed voice as she sat on a chair nearby.

“But you know, Mandie, he is absolutely right. If Monet is being paid to work, then she should work for the money,” Celia said.

“But I could have made a sandbox if he would have given me something to put the sand in,” Mandie said. “Besides, he could have, too. I think he has just got plain lazy since he came home to New York. He wasn't like that when we met him on the ship.”

“I think we'd better start getting dressed,” Celia reminded her.

“I reckon so,” Mandie said. She rose and went to find a dress in the tall wardrobe.

While the girls were dressing, Monet brought up the sandbox, which she silently placed in a corner of the bedroom. Without a word she turned and left the room.

“Thank you,” Mandie told Monet as she went out the door, but the prim maid didn't even let on that she heard her.

When Monet had closed the door behind her, Mandie sighed and said, “Oh well, I really do thank her.”

The girls and Mrs. Hamilton were dressed and waiting when the housekeeper herself came back and escorted them down to the parlor. Jonathan and his father were waiting there for them, and Mandie couldn't believe her eyes. The white dog was lying on the hearth by the fire and looked as though he had had a bath.

“Jonathan?” Mandie asked as she and Celia walked straight over to the settee where Jonathan had risen at their entrance.

“Do you like my dog?” Jonathan asked, mischievously grinning as the three of them sat on the settee. Mrs. Hamilton joined Mr. Guyer by the fireplace.

“Are you going to keep him?” Mandie asked.

“Did your father say you could?” Celia wanted to know.

“Yes, my father said I could keep him—until someone comes along to claim him, which I certainly hope won't happen,” Jonathan explained to the girls. “I gave him a hot bath. He was cold out there on the back porch. Now he can stay in the house and will only go into the backyard when he has to.”

“I'm so glad for you,” Celia said.

“It's a good thing I left Snowball in our room. Remember, that dog is afraid of my cat,” Mandie said with a grin.

“Oh, but you could have brought him down here. There's plenty of room for them both,” Jonathan replied.

“No, seriously, Jonathan, it would not have been nice for me to bring my cat down here to the parlor. After all, we are only guests in your father's house, and there are so many things Snowball could get into or break,” Mandie said. “We left him asleep on the hearth by the fire in our room. And Monet did bring the sandbox.”

“And speaking of Monet, here she is,” Jonathan said under his breath as the maid wheeled a cart holding coffee, tea, and sweet cakes into the room and parked it near Mr. Guyer.

“Just leave it here, Monet,” Mr. Guyer said. “We'll help ourselves.”

Monet silently left the room. Mr. Guyer spoke to Mrs. Hamilton as he stood up by the cart. “Please tell me what you would like.”

Mrs. Hamilton also rose, assisted him with the coffee, and told the young people to come over and get what they wanted.

“Monet seems peeved about something. Maybe it's that dog I allowed Jonathan to bring into the house, but I didn't think we needed her sullen attitude to spoil our evening,” Mr. Guyer told Mrs. Hamilton as they sat back down.

The three young people overheard the remarks, and Mandie whispered under her breath, “Your father doesn't know about the sandbox.”

“No, and don't tell him,” Jonathan whispered back.

Mr. Guyer glanced at them and asked, “And what are you whispering about, Jonathan?”

“These are really delicious-looking sweet cakes,” Mandie said, quickly putting one on a small plate. “Did your cook make them, Mr. Guyer?”

“Why, yes, as a matter of fact, Mrs. Cook did bake them,” Mr. Guyer replied. Then he smiled and added, “I'm sure you will enjoy them, but that couldn't be what Jonathan was whispering about.”

“Father, please!” Jonathan exclaimed as he also took one of the sweet cakes.

“Oh, it was private then,” Mr. Guyer replied with a grin so much like Jonathan's. He turned back to Mrs. Hamilton and said, “It was nice to be young and have secrets from our parents, wasn't it?”

“Yes, and I did have lots of secrets,” Mrs. Hamilton replied as she drank her coffee.

Celia heard that and said under her breath, “Secrets? And she has never wanted me to have a single secret.”

“Pay no attention to those two old people over there. We have other more interesting things to talk about,” Jonathan said with another grin as they all sat down again with their refreshments.

“Like seeing New York,” Mandie said, smiling.

“Yes, we must make plans for tomorrow,” Jonathan said.

“I think my mother wants to go shopping tomorrow,” Celia said.

“Then we'll go shopping and stop here and there to sight-see,” Jonathan told her. “I'll show you Broadway and Saint Patrick's Cathedral. The church is huge and really beautiful. And maybe we'll get to ride in my father's motorcar.”

“Your father's motorcar?” Mandie said. “He owns a motorcar?”

“Right, and as soon as I am old enough, I will be able to drive it,” Jonathan said. “In the meantime, if my father is not around to drive it, then we will have to ask Jens to take us.”

“I'd much rather ride in one of those horsecars, I believe you call them, that go up and down Fifth Avenue,” Mandie said.

“Well, I have to be different and say I'd rather just walk,” Celia said.

“New York is too big and crowded to walk much. Besides, what will you do with all the packages of things you and your mother will buy? You can't just carry them around with you,” Jonathan said.

“Now, Jonathan, I happen to know the best stores will deliver whatever you buy right up to the front door. You can't mislead me into getting into that motorcar,” Celia said with a teasing smile.

“You know too much, Celia,” Jonathan teased back.

“Anyhow, we will have to consult with Celia's mother before we can make any plans for tomorrow,” Mandie said.

The white dog rose from the hearth and came over to put his head on Jonathan's knee. “Now, isn't that nice?” Jonathan said, patting the dog's fur. “He already knows who his master is.”

Mandie smiled and said, “I would suggest you let him check out the backyard now and then until he gets used to staying in the house.”

Jonathan understood what she meant. “You mean—like Snowball?” he asked.

Mandie nodded, and he quickly rose. She put down her coffee cup on a table and said, “Wait. I'll go with you.”

Mrs. Hamilton saw them rise and start toward the door with the dog. “Where are you going, Amanda?” she asked.

“Just out in the yard with Jonathan and the dog,” Mandie replied.

“Not without a coat,” Mrs. Hamilton said firmly. “It's cold out there.”

Mandie remembered the maid had hung their coats on the hall tree, and she quickly looked to see if they were still there. “Our wraps are here,” she told Mrs. Hamilton as she took her coat off the hook and put it on. Jonathan took a coat that evidently belonged to him from another hook.

“Well, I suppose I might as well go, too,” Celia said, coming to join them and get her coat.

Mrs. Hamilton watched them and said, “Hats, too, girls.”

After the three of them were dressed for the cold, Jonathan spoke to the dog and he followed them through the house and out the back door into the garden.

Mandie took a quick breath upon stepping outside. “Your mother was right, Celia. It is cold out here,” she said.

“Right,” Celia agreed, turning up the collar of her coat.

Several outside lights gave a faint illumination to the garden, and as soon as the door closed behind them, the dog raced to the gate in the fence. The young people followed.

“Come on back, feller. You can't go out into the street. The gate's closed anyhow,” Jonathan called to the dog.

As they reached the gate, a voice called to them from the other side, “Let my dog out of there right now!”

The three young people stopped in surprise. Mandie was the first one to spot the girl sitting on top of the wall by the gate in the dark.

“Who are you?” Mandie asked.

“Yes, who are you, and what are you doing on my property?” Jonathan asked as they came up to the wall.

“I want my dog,” the girl said angrily. “Let him out.”

Mandie glanced at the white dog. He was exploring a bush nearby and completely ignoring the girl. “If this is your dog, how come he doesn't seem to know you?” she asked, squinting to see the girl better.

The girl jumped down from the wall and landed near where the young people were standing. “Give me my dog,” she insisted, looking around for the animal.

As the girl moved into a better light, Mandie could see that her clothes were raggedy and that she did not have on enough warm clothes in the cold weather. The girl did not look older than ten years.

“You will have to prove you own this dog,” Jonathan told her as he watched her closely.

“Come on, Fido,” the girl said to the dog as she took hold of his collar and tried to pull him toward the gate. The dog jerked back and went running off to another part of the garden. The girl went after him. “Fido, come back here,” she called.

The young people followed her, and Jonathan spoke sternly, “Now, you look here, miss, if you don't leave this property I will call my father, and I am sure he will call the authorities.”

The girl stopped instantly and turned to him. “He wouldn't do that now, would he? That's my dog you got here,” she insisted.

“Yes, he would do that,” Jonathan said. “Now, I will let you out the gate. If you come back tomorrow with some proof that this dog belongs to you, I will let you have him, but you are not going to take him tonight.”

The girl pushed her dark, stringy hair back under her hat, shook an ungloved fist at Jonathan, and said, “I will be back tomorrow and get my dog.” She raced over to the gate, tried to open it, and found it locked.

“I'll get the key,” Jonathan said and hurried toward the back porch.

Mandie watched and noticed that he did not go into the house but retrieved the key from somewhere around the back porch. He came back and unlocked the gate.

“Now, you come to the door proper when you do come back. No
more sneaking over the wall,” Jonathan told her, but she didn't seem to listen to a word he was saying. As soon as he swung the gate open, she raced through and disappeared into the dark street.

Jonathan locked the gate, and the three of them went back inside the house with the white dog.

“Do you think that dog really belongs to that girl?” Mandie asked. She noticed Jonathan had put the key in his pocket.

“No, I don't believe it. The dog ignored her,” Jonathan replied as they went along a hallway. “Come on, feller,” he urged the dog.

“I don't, either, but how did she know you had the dog?” Mandie asked.

“Maybe she saw it come into our garden earlier today,” Jonathan said.

“She looked too poor to afford to keep a dog,” Celia remarked.

When they returned to the parlor, Jonathan told his father about the girl. “I just don't think the dog could belong to her,” Jonathan concluded.

“She may know where the dog came from and decided to claim it for herself,” Mr. Guyer said. “Don't worry about it. She would have to have proof of ownership before I'd let her have it.”

“Thanks, Father,” Jonathan replied.