Phyllis Puts Up Her Hair

EA had been early, so that Phyllis could go to tennis; but she insisted on staying “to make everybody comfortable” before she went. She brought Uncle William's paper, and put his ash tray at his elbow. She set Uncle John's chessmen on the table by the window, and arranged the stool for his gouty foot. She fetched Aunt Mary's account book, and Aunt Julia's embroidery, and found the thimble which had been mislaid—in Aunt Julia's pocket. Then she bowed to them ceremoniously.

“You can say good-by to little Phyllis,” she announced. “When I come downstairs I shall be grown up!”

She laughed and ran from the room. She always laughed, and she usually ran.

“She means,” Aunt Julia stated solemnly, “that she is going to put up her hair!”

Uncle William looked up from the money article.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Why not?” Uncle John echoed, holding the white queen suspended in the air.

“She won't be a child any longer.” Aunt Julia wiped her eyes.

“Not to herself, perhaps,” Uncle William agreed, “but she will be to us.”

“Not to some other people,” Aunt Mary said quietly. “We thought her mother a child, if you recollect, till we found her engaged.”

Uncle William paused in the act of lighting his cigar, and let the match go out.

“Of course,' he remarked thoughtfully, “some one will come along some day, and—I suppose our little girl will get married.”

Uncle John put a bishop on the wrong color, and upset the black king.

“What nonsense!” he cried. “She isn't eighteen! I suppose she is, though. Dear me! How the time flies! It must be four years since she came to us.”

“Four years and three months on the fifteenth,” Aunt Mary stated. “It was at the very end of winter, if you remember, and she wore that little squirrel coat that William bought her for the journey. We thought her rather a trial at first.”

“We thought we thought so,” Uncle William corrected. “If we did, we've thought her a comfort for the last two years of the time anyhow. Sometimes I wish she were back at fourteen again. Well, she had to grow up; and we've grown her nicely. She has improved wonderfully. I often think that we have, too. The child has been an education to us,”

He lit his cigar at last, and puffed at it.

“Yes,” Aunt Mary agreed. “Yes, I have often thought so; but the improvement is in her, too. I never dreamed that she would be so sensible and helpful. She remembers things better than I do. I am afraid my memory is not quite what it was. I can trust her to dust the best ornaments even. She looks as if she might break them, but she never does. Her mother was like that. She laughed and talked and seemed careless, but you could depend upon her all the same. Phyllis grows more like her every day. She has just the same way of smiling people into things. Norah was engaged at eighteen.”

“People have more sense nowadays,” Uncle William asserted. “If you and Julia don't put nonsense in her head”

Then Phyllis danced in with her mass of brown hair fastened up at the back of her head, and her big eyes sparkling.

“Now!” she cried. “Don't I look grown up?” She seized Uncle William's paper. “You mustn't read silly money articles when a beautiful grown-up lady comes to see you. Now, Uncle Bill—I mean William, of course—don't I look very nice and grown up?”

Uncle William rose and turned her round. Then he bowed to her, and she bowed to him.

“Madam,” he said, “you look very nice, and rather grown up. Well, well! Don't grow up too fast. I don't like losing my little girl. God bless you!”

He patted her shoulder.

She laughed and kissed him. Then she went and pulled Uncle John round from the chessboard.

“What do you think of me?” she wanted to know.

He stared at her as intently as if she were a chess problem.

“You are like your mother,” he said slowly. “She was always better looking than the rest of us, and—God bless you, Phil!”

Phyllis kissed him; and then Aunt Julia kissed her.

“It might be Norah's self,” she pronounced shakily.

Aunt Mary kissed the girl silently; adjusted a hairpin or two, and stepped back to note the effect.

“Twenty years ago,” she remarked, “I helped your mother to do up her hair for the first time. I little thought It wants catching up here, or it will shake out when you play tennis, There! You look very nice, dear.”

“And grown up?” the girl inquired eagerly.

Her aunts sighed, and so did Uncle John. Uncle William managed to laugh.

“Does grown up spell more dress allowance, Miss Artful?” he inquired.

“No, sir!” she denied. “I do not require money, but admiration.”

“Consider yourself admired!” He laughed again, and Phyllis tossed her head and laughed, too.

Phyllis turned away from him to her aunts.

“Does it really look all right?” she asked them anxiously. “All right to go out, I mean?”

“Yes, dear,” said both aunts at once.

“It won't shake loose when I jump about?”

“Grown-up ladies don't jump,” Uncle William teased.

“Well, when I play tennis?”

“No, dear,” Aunt Mary assured her. “You've done it very well.”

“Annie helped me,” Phyllis admitted. “Now the lady is going. Good-by, dears!” She turned again at the door. “Good-by!”

Then she went; and a silence fell upon the room,

Old Martha and the cook were waiting in the hall to have a good view, and the housemaid to admire her handiwork. Phyllis turned round and round to show the effect.

“I am grown up!” she announced grandly.

“Umph!” said Martha. “Grown up is as grown up does, I'll believe it when I see you act sensible.”

Phyllis laughed merrily.

“When I want to be silly,” she explained, “I shall let my hair down. Remember that, Marty.”

“I've no doubt,” said Martha grimly, “that you'll continue to be the plague of my life.”

“You do look nice, miss,” the housemaid declared.

“And grown up?” Phyllis demanded.

“Rather grown up, miss.” The housemaid laughed.

“Grown up enough, the young gentlemen will think,” the cook said slyly.

“Don't put such nonsense in her head!” said Martha sharply. “Young gentlemen, indeed!”

“If I look out for a—a 'young gentleman,'” Phyllis declared, “it will be your fault, Marty. You always said you'd make my wedding cake. I do like wedding cakes! I really think I must see if I can't have one. Now, Annie, hold the door open importantly. The lady is going out. Thank you for doing it. You're sure it won't fall down? Well, if I come running in the back door you'll know it has. Good-by!”

“She swept down the steps, laughing over her shoulder. The cook and the housemaid laughed, too. Old Martha wiped her eyes.

“I brought up her mother from a baby,” she stated. “She was always full of fun like Miss Phyllis; and a pleasant word for everybody.”

“There ain't many young ladies like our Miss Phyllis,” the cook declared. “And as for looks, I've never seen a picture post card to equal her!”

“And that's a fact,” said the housemaid; “and if I was asked to name a gentleman that knew it”

“You aren't asked!” cried Martha tartly. “And if you've nothing to do but talk nonsense you'd better begin to lay the table for dinner. You ought to be ashamed of yourself for putting nonsense in her head. Time enough for her to think of such things when she's five years older.”

The uncles and aunts deferred resuming their occupations till Phyllis passed the window—waving her hand and blowing a kiss. Even then they watched her go down the road. Uncle John broke the somewhat depressing silence.

“We're worrying ourselves too soon,” he observed. “She's a mere child, however she does her hair, and no one will take her for anything else. I don't suppose she has any more idea of sweethearting than” His voice changed suddenly. “Who's that fellow she's met?”

“Young Royd,” said Uncle William. “Doctor Royd's nephew. He's staying here on a holiday. He represents his father's firm at Marseilles, I believe.”

“If Phyllis should take up with any one who lives abroad!” Aunt Julia cried.

“He's still holding her hand,” said Uncle John. “Confound the fellow!”

“It is the first time that he has seen her as a woman,” Aunt Mary observed quietly.

“Umph!” Uncle William frowned sternly. “It looks as if he came to meet her.”

“I thought she had some reason for putting her hair up,” Aunt Julia told them. “Last week she said she wouldn't do it for six months. I suppose she wanted him to see her before he goes away next week.”

“A good job, too!” Uncle John growled.

“When Norah put up her hair,” Aunt Mary related. “Phyllis' father waited in the shrubbery to see her first. That was how I found out. I had no notion before. She seemed such a child; a childish child. You can never be up to girls.”

Uncle William tapped the floor with his foot.

“She isn't going to marry before she is twenty, like Norah did,” he asserted firmly. “I am her guardian, and I will not listen to any nonsense about engagements. She's nothing but a baby!”

“You are quite right, William,” Aunt Mary agreed. “It is out of the question,”

“Quite!” said Uncle John. “Quite!”

Aunt Julia sighed.

“Norah married too young,” she declared, “much too young. I always thought that struggling to make both ends meet in her early days undermined her constitution, and—I don't know. He was a good husband, and she seemed very contented. I remember just before the end. It was the last time she spoke. He was sitting holding her hands, and she smiled up at him. Phyllis smiles just like Norah, if you notice. They always had that way from the time they were babies. 'Oh, Jackie!' she said. 'We've had a lovely time!' They say this young Royd is going to do well.”

“Going to!” cried Uncle William. “They're all 'going to'! Let him do well, before he comes and asks for our little girl. I shan't listen to anything like an engagement at present. She's too young; much too young.”

“Altogether too young,” Uncle John corroborated. “What business has he to want to take her away from us, when we've brought her up, and What would she have done without us?”

“What shall we do without her?” Aunt Julia wailed.

“We aren't going to do without her yet,” Uncle William pronounced decisively. “I shall be firm; very firm, I look to you all to support me.”

“You can rely upon me entirely, William,” Uncle John promised. “She won't coax me over.”

“Nor me,” said Aunt Mary. “I shall tell her that it is for her good, and she must be guided by those who know best.”

“Yes,” Aunt Julia assented. “I think so; but we mustn't be hard on her.”

“Hard on her!” Uncle William laughed. “Hard on Phyllis! Why, bless my soul!” He strode up and down, “All I'm afraid of is that she'll get over the rest of you, and I'll have you all on to me. Well, she won't get over me!”

“Nor me!” said the rest in one breath.

“I can be firm when it is for her good,” Aunt Julia added. “Though I wish I hadn't to be!” She sighed.

“That's just it,” said Uncle William. “It's not easy to be firm with Phyllis. She is such a coaxing little lady—bless her! She's too old to send away to school, or I really think I tell you what I'll do. I always promised to take her a trip to the Mediterranean when she was old enough. Why shouldn't I do it now? There's one starts the day after to-morrow; the Blue Bunting Line. It would get her out of his way before things go too far. What do you think?”

“Excellent!” cried Uncle John. “Excellent! I'd come with you if I hadn't my chess tournament on hand.”

“I'll telephone to the office for cabins.” Uncle William started toward the door, but Aunt Mary called him back.

“It isn't possible, William,” she objected. “She'd want more dresses and hats and”

“Send them after her,” Uncle William interrupted.

“They stay days at places on these trips,” Uncle John pointed out. “You could send them to catch her up. You aren't going to let a dress or two stand in the way of her good, Mary?”

“I suppose she has enough for a week or so,” Aunt Mary admitted.

“And she is so young,” said Aunt Julia; “and we could buy her hats to-morrow; and some ready-made blouses and things. It would make a nice day for her, and put this affair out of her head.”

“Oh, yes!” said Uncle William. “Oh, yes! They soon get over these fancies. The great thing is to divert their minds. There may be a little trouble to-night; but we must be firm, judiciously firm. I look to you all to assist.”

All said that he might rely entirely upon their judiciousness and firmness; and that they left the direction of affairs to him.

“Mind she doesn't find some way of getting over you, William,” Uncle John warned him.

Uncle William laughed carelessly.

“I am not easy to get over,” he stated. “I may be easy in little things—I hope I am—but when I put my foot down it stops down. I'll go and telephone at once and engage the cabins.”

When he tried to telephone he found that the office was closed for the day. So he had to defer the arrangements till the morning. They discussed the matter fully, and he and Uncle John decided upon the best cabins to get, and Aunts Mary and Julia planned out the shopping expedition. Then they heard Phyllis' knock; and they put on an air of cheerful innocence and counseled one another to be “judicious” and “firm,”

It was dusk, and the blinds were down, but they heard Phyllis call “good night” to some one; and they heard some one call back “a thousand good nights!” She was very pink and smiling when she came in; and she seemed to look more “grown up” than when she went out.

“It didn't come down,” she stated. Her eyes danced.

“Good!” said Uncle William. “Good! You have passed the test, and are really grown up.”

“Yes,” said the girl. “I have really grown up, uncle.” She sat beside him and put her hand on his. Though Uncle William was the oldest in years, he was the youngest in ways, and it was he on whom Phyllis relied as her chief counselor. “I have really grown up,” she repeated softly.

“I always promised,” Uncle William went on, “that, when you were old enough, I'd take you a trip to the Mediterranean.”

She clapped her hands.

“I wondered if you'd remember,” she said. “At least I didn't really wonder, because we always keep our promises to each other, don't we? It will be glorious!”

“You'd like to' go?”

“Oh! I should!”

“Then,” he said, “we'll go by the one that starts the day after to-morrow!”

“The—day—after—to-morrow?”

Phyllis flushed and then turned a trifle pale. She looked at Uncle William very intently. He was a quick-witted man; and he realized that Phyllis was quick-witted, too. He suspected that she understood. He frowned at Uncle John to take up the good fight, wishing to draw fire and keep himself in reserve.

“The very trip,” Uncle John pronounced,

Phyllis turned and looked at him.

“We'll spend to-morrow shopping,” said Aunt Mary, “and what isn't ready in time can be sent after you.”

Phyllis turned to Aunt Mary. Aunt Mary and both uncles looked to Aunt Julia; but Aunt Julia's support failed; and Phyllis turned to her with a queer little laugh.

“Well, Judy, dear?” she asked. She often addressed her youngest aunt so. “What have you to say?”

“Nothing,” said Aunt Julia. “You must talk to your Uncle William.”

Phyllis laughed and sat on Uncle William's knee, and twined her arm through his.

“I shall be just delighted, Uncle Bill, dear,” she said. “Only I think we'll go by the trip next week. The one that calls at Marseilles.”

“Marseilles!” cried Uncle William.

“Marseilles,” Phyllis repeated distinctly. “Because—I didn't think I was brave enough to tell you all together, but—but I think I am. Teddie Royd is going to Marseilles in her. It is the Seamew, isn't it? Some day—not for a long time yet—not till Teddie comes back to the office at home, so that I can live very near you, dears. You don't know how dear you all are to me! Then I am going to marry him. I know you will take me next week, because—if anything will make me happy you always do it. All of you! I—I am very glad that—that I have grown up—for this!”

She tried to laugh; and instead of laughing she cried. Uncle William drew her head down on his shoulder.

“We will go next week, Phil,” he said. “God bless you, dear, and make you happy!”

“Amen!” said Aunt Mary and Aunt Julia.

Uncle John hobbled over to them and patted Phyllis' hair.

“I knew you'd get over them,” he remarked, Phyllis looked up at him, and wiped her eyes, and laughed. “Oh!” he said. “And me, too! You've put up your hair, but you're the same artful, coaxing, little The same old Phil!”

Phyllis jumped up and kissed the four in as many seconds.

“Oh!” she said. “That's just what I wanted you all to understand. However old I grow, and when I marry, and whatever I do, to you I shall always be just—just the same old Phil!”