The Mandie Collection (25 page)

The next morning, Sunday, they all got up in time to go to church. Mandie and Celia followed Mrs. Taft to their pew. Looking around, Mandie saw Miss Prudence and Miss Hope across the aisle with the other girls from school. Mandie, feeling guilty about the conflict with Miss Prudence, quickly turned her head before the headmistress could look at her.

All during the service, Mandie was aware of Miss Prudence across the aisle, and it was hard for Mandie to keep her mind on the music and sermon. When the service was over and everyone got up to leave, Miss Prudence told the other students to wait for her in the rig, and she turned back to block Mrs. Taft's path. Mandie's heart thumped loudly.

“It's a nice day, isn't it, Mrs. Taft?” Miss Prudence began.

“Yes, I believe it is.” Mrs. Taft stopped in the aisle, her way blocked.

“Mrs. Taft, I need to apologize to you,” she said, trying to keep her tone businesslike.

Mandie couldn't believe her ears. Miss Prudence apologizing?

Mrs. Taft started to speak, but the headmistress held up her hand and shook her head. “No, please, let me finish. There have been some difficult developments at the school recently, and . . .”

Mandie desperately wanted to ask what those mysterious developments were, but she didn't dare interrupt.

Miss Hope came up and put her hand on the headmistress's shoulder. “My sister has been under a great deal of strain,” she explained.

Miss Prudence continued. “I must admit I let my own political leanings keep me from making a rational decision.” She fidgeted with the white gloves she held in her hand. “But I wanted to let you know that I have thought things over and have decided that perhaps a trip to Washington, D.C., might be quite educational for Amanda.”

Mandie's face lit up.

“She will be excused to make the trip to Washington—that is,
if
she promises to study while she is away and
if
she does not take any more leave time this year.”

Mandie nodded her head vigorously, and before Mrs. Taft could open her mouth to reply, Mandie was practically jumping up and down. “Thank you, Miss Prudence. Thank you!” she cried over and over.

Mrs. Taft smiled triumphantly. “I'm so glad,” she said. “I suppose I owe you an apology as well.” She straightened her skirt self-consciously. “Thank you for reconsidering. We'll be planning the details of the trip then.”

Miss Prudence looked at Mandie. “Amanda, you heard me,” she warned as she put on her gloves. “You have to promise to take your books with you and to study diligently while you are gone.”

Mandie at once became calm. “Yes, Miss Prudence. I do indeed promise,” she replied in a proper, ladylike voice. “I'm just so happy to be able to visit the President.”

Mrs. Taft put her hand on her granddaughter's shoulder. “I will see that she studies,” she assured the headmistress. “Come, dears.” She motioned to Mandie and Celia. “It's time to go home for dinner.” They all stepped out onto the front steps of the church.

Mandie turned and looked up into the headmistress's eyes. “Thank you again, Miss Prudence,” she said sincerely. “We'll see you later tonight.”

To Mandie's astonishment, Miss Prudence actually waved a gloved hand and smiled as Mandie stepped into the rig where Ben waited for them.

“I wish Uncle Ned hadn't left so early this morning so I could tell him the good news,” Mandie said excitedly.

“Uncle Ned had to visit some friends over in the mountains,” Mrs. Taft told her. “So I asked him to stop by on his way back through tomorrow morning and I'd give him a note for your mother. I'll tell him for you since you'll be back at school by then.”

“Thanks, Grandmother,” Mandie answered.

Celia, who had not said a word until now, tugged on Mandie's coat sleeve. “May I tell everybody now, Mandie? Is it all right to tell people that you're going to visit the President? Please?”

Mandie paused a moment. “Well, actually, Celia,” she remarked, “I think
I'd
like to be the one to spread the word.” She barely noticed the hurt look Celia gave her.

As soon as they got back to Mrs. Taft's house, Mandie asked if she could borrow some of her grandmother's stationery. “I want to send President McKinley my reply right away,” she said as they hung their wraps on the coat tree in the front hallway.

“Of course, dear, but I think we should have dinner first,” Mrs. Taft replied, leading the way to the dining room.

The servants in Mrs. Taft's household were all expected to attend church on Sunday. Dinner was cooked the day before, then reheated and placed on the table for everyone to help themselves. The servants ate in the kitchen. After the meal was finished, the servants took away the used dishes and draped an extra white linen tablecloth over the food, saving it for supper.

Mandie and Celia followed Mrs. Taft to the long table where the food and dishes were already laid out. Mrs. Taft took a china plate from the short stack at one end of the table and began filling her plate. “Help yourselves, girls,” she offered. “Then sit down at the other end there where we can talk.”

The girls hungrily dug into the various bowls and platters and carried their heaping plates to the places Mrs. Taft indicated.

After a brief prayer of thanks, Mrs. Taft began telling Mandie her ideas. “In your letter to the President, Amanda, you should inform him that your grandmother will be traveling with you, so he can make proper arrangements at the White House.”

“Of course, Grandmother,” Mandie said between bites of juicy country ham. “I'm sure he wouldn't expect me to come alone. I'm planning to take Snowball with me, too.”

“Oh, Amanda. I'm not sure we can handle that cat on the trip,” Mrs. Taft replied doubtfully. “Why don't you just leave him here?”

“But, Grandmother,” Mandie protested, “it isn't every day that a cat is allowed to visit the President. I'll take care of him.”

As Celia cut her meat, she turned to her friend. “Mandie,” she said, “when Uncle Ned comes by tomorrow on his way home, why don't you have your grandmother ask him to make you a box with a lid to carry Snowball in.”

Mandie frowned. “Put Snowball in a box?” she objected. “Oh, no! I could fix a shallow box for him to sleep in on the train, but I couldn't shut him up in anything.”

“That's what I meant,” Celia replied. “If you have a box for him on the train, and if it has a lid, you can always keep him from running away. Without it, he could get lost for good on the train or maybe jump off during stops.”

Mrs. Taft nodded her approval. “That's a good idea, Celia,” she acknowledged. “Amanda, if you insist on carrying him, you've got to have some way to shut him up now and then so you won't lose him when we change trains and all.”

Mandie sighed. “The box would have to have lots of air holes in it,” she informed them, finally giving in.

“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Taft agreed. “I'll mention it to Uncle Ned in the morning. Now, I'm sending a message to Celia's mother in Richmond to ask if we may stay overnight there and go on to the White House the next day. Otherwise, we will be worn out by the time we get to Washington and won't enjoy the visit at all.”

“Oh, yes!” Celia squealed with delight. “Then you will get to see our farm and all the horses, Mandie.”

“That will be wonderful,” Mandie responded excitedly. “I can't wait to get going!”

“I'm not sure how much Mandie will be able to see, Celia,” Mrs. Taft countered. “We won't have much time there, and it will probably be dark by the time we arrive. But we'll see.”

After the meal, Mandie sat at the desk in the library and wrote a letter to President McKinley while Snowball sat in her lap. The kitten tried to play with the moving pen as Mandie wrote.

When she had finished, Mandie read the letter aloud to her grandmother and Celia for their approval. “Dear President McKinley,” she read. “Thank you for inviting me to the White House for your inauguration. My grandmother, Mrs. Norman Taft, and I (and my kitten, Snowball) will arrive in Washington on Friday, March 1, 1901, on the

1:30 train from Richmond, as you requested. Please have someone meet us at the train depot. With love and gratitude, Amanda Elizabeth Shaw.” She looked up for their reaction.

Mrs. Taft smiled. “I don't think you have to tell the President of the United States to send someone to meet us, dear,” she remarked. “I'm sure he will send his carriage for us.”

“Well, we don't want to get lost in that big city up there,” Mandie reminded them. “Besides, we don't want to have to sit in the depot and wait for someone to pick us up.”

“We won't have to worry about the President forgetting,” Mrs. Taft assured her. “But go ahead and seal it up, dear. I'll get Ben to take it to the post office tomorrow.”

Celia sat on the edge of her chair. “Couldn't we take it there today?” she asked.

“No, dear,” Mrs. Taft replied. “The post office is not open on Sunday.” Then laying her hand on Mandie's, she said, “If you want to send your mother a letter, why don't you get that written too. Then Uncle Ned can take it to her when he comes by in the morning.”

“I wish I could see Uncle Ned,” Mandie sighed. “But I know we have to go back to school after supper tonight.” Turning around, she began writing a quick note to her mother.

“That's right, dear,” Mrs. Taft agreed. “Miss Prudence said absolutely no other leave for the rest of the school year.”

Mandie handed the note to Mrs. Taft.

Celia's green eyes sparkled. “I don't think Mandie will mind,” she said knowingly.

Mandie whirled around in the parlor. “I can't wait to get back to school so I can tell everybody the news,” she announced. Celia tightened her lips slightly, but Mandie pretended not to notice.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE STRANGER ON THE TRAIN

When the girls got back to school and Mandie looked for someone to tell, there was no one in sight. There was a lamp burning in the office but not a sound of anyone near. She sighed. “All the girls must be in their rooms,” she said as they walked toward the stairway.

“Probably,” Celia agreed, looking around. “It's almost bedtime.” The girls continued on up the stairs.

When they opened the door to their room, they found Aunt Phoebe kneeling before the fireplace, stirring up the logs so that they would give out more warmth. As soon as she saw them she stood up.

Mandie ran to her. “Aunt Phoebe!” she exclaimed. “I'm so glad to see you again. It seems like everybody around here just disappears for days at a time.”

“It jes' been necessary lately, Missy,” the Negro woman said, wiping her hands on her big white apron.

Mandie hung her coat in the chifferobe, then took Celia's and hung it up.

Celia thanked Mandie and turned back to the old Negro woman. “Guess what, Aunt Phoebe!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“Wait,” Mandie said, frowning at her friend. “Let me tell her.” Again Mandie ignored the hurt look in Celia's eyes. Grabbing the old woman's hand, she babbled on. “I'm going to Washington to see the President, and you're the very first one here at school to know about it.”

Aunt Phoebe straightened up and stared at the girls in surprise. “De real President?” she gasped.

“Yes, ma'am,” Mandie replied. “He invited me to the White House because he heard about the hospital we're building for the Cherokee Indians with the gold my friends and I found.”

“Lawsy mercy, Missy!” Aunt Phoebe exclaimed. “Come heah and let me touch you. I ain't never heerd such 'citin' news.” She reached for Mandie and embraced her. “Goin' to see de real President! Ain't dat somethin'!”

The old Negro woman sat on the rug in front of the fire with the girls as they explained about the forthcoming trip. She listened with her mouth open, and her eyes grew wide with excitement.

When they had finished, Mandie eyed the Negro woman curiously. “Aunt Phoebe, we've told you all our news; now how about telling us what is going on around here with you and Miss Prudence and Miss Hope disappearing every now and then.”

Aunt Phoebe struggled to her feet and then straightened her long dress. “I'se real sorry 'bout dat, Missy,” she apologized. “But Miz Prudence, she give strict orders dat we ain't s'posed to discuss anythin' wid de school's girls. Now I'se gotta go stir up de fire in my own house. I jes' come to shake this'n up so's y'all git warm when you comes in from de cold tonight.” She started toward the door, then looked back.

Mandie stood up and stared at her in dismay. “You can't even say a single little tiny word?”

“Now, Missy, you knows a promise be's a promise,” Aunt Phoebe scolded. “And 'sides, it don't rightly concern you. Now y'all keep on de lookout fo' dat Yankee girl, April. I'll see y'all in de mawnin'. Good night.”

“Good night, Aunt Phoebe,” the girls chorused as the old woman left the room.

Mandie looked at Celia and smiled. “Guess we won't find out anything unless we do some investigating on our own,” she said.

“Which we'd better not do,” Celia warned her. “Because if we get in trouble, you know what will happen to your Washington trip.”

“Well, we'll just have to keep our eyes and ears open,” Mandie told her.

By noon the next day everyone in the school knew about Mandie's invitation to the White House. Mandie felt disappointed that the other students didn't seem impressed by the news. “After all,” she kept telling Celia, “it isn't every day that a girl gets invited to meet the President of the United States.”

The days passed slowly, but soon Mandie received a reply from her mother, cautioning her to take plenty of warm clothes, to be on her very best behavior, and to mind her grandmother.