<h2>CHAPTER XXIV<br/> <small>The Statue from India</small></h2>
<p class='drop-cap'>ALL the shops in Lakeville wore a holiday
air, for money was plentiful and
trade was unusually brisk. The windows
were gay with wreaths of holly and glittering
strings of Christmas-tree ornaments.
Clerks were busy and smiling. Customers,
alert for bargains, crowded about the counters
and parted cheerfully from their cash.
Persons in the streets, laden with parcels of
every shape, size and color, pushed eagerly
through the doors or hurried along the busy
thoroughfares. All wore an air of eager
expectancy, for two weeks of December
were gone and Christmas was fairly scrambling
into sight.</p>
<p>The five girls had money to spend. Very
little of it, to be sure, belonged to the Cottagers;
but Henrietta had a great deal, and,
as they all went together on their shopping
expeditions, it didn't matter very much, as
far as enjoyment went, who did the purchasing.
Bettie said that it was quite as much
fun to help Henrietta pick out a five-dollar
scarf pin for Simmons, the butler, as it was
to choose ten-cent paper weights for Bob
and Dick. Besides, no one was obliged to
go home empty-handed, because it took all
five to carry Henrietta's purchases.</p>
<p>All five were making things besides.
Sometimes they sewed at Jean's, sometimes
at Henrietta's, occasionally at Marjory's and
once in a while at Mabel's. They liked least
of all to go to Marjory's because Aunty
Jane, who was a wonderfully particular
housekeeper, objected to their walking on
her hardwood floors and seemed equally
averse to having them step on the rugs. As
they couldn't very well use the ceiling or feel
entirely comfortable under the battery of
Aunty Jane's disapproving glances, they
liked to go where they were more warmly
welcomed. Perhaps Henrietta's once-dreaded
home was the most popular place,
though in that fascinating abode they could
not accomplish a great deal in the sewing
line because Henrietta invariably produced
such a bewildering array of unusual belongings
to show them that their eyes kept busier
than their fingers. In another way, however,
they accomplished a great deal. Henrietta,
who was really very clever with her
needle, had started at one time or another a
great many different articles. These, in
their half-finished condition—the changeable
girl was much better at beginning things
than at completing them—she lavishly bestowed
on her friends. Lovely flowered
ribbons, dainty bits of silk and lace, curious
scraps of Japanese and Chinese embroidery,
embossed leather and rich brocades, all these
found their way into the Cottagers' work-bags.</p>
<p>Out of these fascinating odds and ends
they fashioned gifts for Mrs. Crane, Anne
Halliday's mother, their out-of-town relatives,
their parents and their school-teachers.
They wanted, of course, to buy every toy
that ever was made for Rosa Marie, little
Anne Halliday, Peter Tucker and the Marcotte
twins; but Mr. Black, meeting them in
the toy-shop one day, implored them to leave
just a few things in the shops for him to
buy, particularly for Rosa Marie and little
Peter Tucker, his namesake.</p>
<p>And now, Mabel was immensely pleased
with Henrietta; for, one day, Rosa Marie,
cured of her cold, had been dressed in her
cunning little Indian costume for the new
girl's benefit. Rosa Marie had looked so
very much more attractive than when she
had had a cold that Henrietta had been
greatly taken with her. As the way to
Mabel's affections was through approval of
Rosa Marie, Henrietta quickly found it, so
the threatened breach was healed.</p>
<p>"Oh, Mrs. Crane," Henrietta had cried,
on beholding the little brown person in buckskin
and feathers, "do let me telephone for
James to bring the carriage so I can take
Rosa Marie to our house and show her to
my Grandmother. I'll take the very best of
care of her. And all four of the girls can
come with her, so she won't be afraid."</p>
<p>"Oh, <i>do</i>," pleaded the others.</p>
<p>"Well, it's mild out to-day," returned
Mrs. Crane, glancing out the window, "and
a little fresh air won't hurt her. I guess her
coat will go on right over these fixings and
I can tie a veil over her head. You'll find a
telephone in the library, on Mr. Black's
desk."</p>
<p>Half an hour later, the six youngsters,
carefully tucked between splendid fur robes,
were on their way to Mrs. Slater's.</p>
<p>"I have a perfectly heavenly plan," said
Henrietta, her black eyes sparkling with
impishness. "Want to hear it?"</p>
<p>"Of course we do," encouraged the Cottagers.</p>
<p>"You see," explained Henrietta, "a large
box came from Father this morning. It
hasn't been opened yet; but Greta and Simmons
don't know that. I'm going to make
them think that Rosa Marie is what came in
that box—it's time I cheered them up a little,
for Simmons has lost some money he had in
the bank and Greta is homesick for the old
country. Will you help?"</p>
<p>"Ye-es," promised Jean, doubtfully, "if
you're not going to hurt anybody's feelings."</p>
<p>"Shan't even scratch one," assured Henrietta.
"Now, when we reach the house,
I'll slip around to the basement door with
Rosa Marie—the cook will let us in—and
you must ring the front-door bell because
that will take Simmons out of the way while
I get up the back stairs. Ask for Grandmother,
and I'll come down and get you
when I'm ready."</p>
<p>So the girls asked for Mrs. Slater—every
one of them now liked the entertaining old
lady very much indeed—and chatted with
her merrily until Henrietta came running
down the stairs.</p>
<p>"Grannie," asked the lively girl, pressing
her warm red cheek against Mrs. Slater's
much paler one, "would you like to be
amused? Would you like to be a black
conspirator and humble your most haughty
servitor to the dust? Then you must ascend
to my haunted den and not say a single
word for at least five minutes. Come on,
girls."</p>
<p>In Henrietta's oddly furnished room there
were two large East Indian gods and one
heathen goddess. Henrietta had managed
to group these interesting, Oriental figures
in one corner of the spacious chamber, with
appropriate drapings behind them. Near
them she had placed an empty packing case,
oblong in shape and plastered with curious,
foreign labels. It looked as if it were waiting
to be carried away to the furnace room
or some such place.</p>
<p>Darkening her bedroom and her dressing
room, she placed her obliging grandmother
and her four friends behind the heavy
portières.</p>
<p>"You can peek round the edges," said she,
"but you mustn't be seen or heard or even
suspected."</p>
<p>Then, fun-loving Henrietta brought Rosa
Marie from another room, removed her
wraps, concealed them from sight and placed
the stolid child in a sitting posture on a large
tabouret near one of the richly colored
statues. Next she rang for Greta, and ran
downstairs in person to ask Simmons to
come at once to remove the heavy packing
case.</p>
<p>Simmons obeyed immediately and just as
the pair reached Henrietta's door, Greta,
who had been in her own room, joined them.
All three entered together.</p>
<p>"Don't you want to see my lovely new
statue?" asked Henrietta. "There, with
the rest of my heathen friends."</p>
<p>"Ho," said Simmons, leaning closer to
look. "<i>That's</i> wot came in that 'eavy box.
Another 'eathen god from Hindia."</p>
<div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i0258.jpg" width-obs="310" height-obs="500" alt="maid and butler looking at baby in native costume" /> <div class="caption">"ANOTHER 'EATHEN GOD FROM HINDIA."</div>
</div>
<p>"He ees very pretty god-lady, Miss Henrietta,"
approved Greta. "Looks most like
real."</p>
<p>Rosa Marie, awed by her strange surroundings,
played her part most beautifully.
For a long moment she sat perfectly still.
But, just as Simmons leaned forward to take
a better look at her, Rosa Marie, who had
suddenly caught a whiff of pungent smoke
from the joss-sticks that Henrietta had
lighted to create a proper atmosphere for
her gods and goddesses, gave a sudden
sneeze. The effect was all that could be
desired. Simmons leaped backward and
Greta, who was excitable, gave a piercing
shriek.</p>
<p>The hidden girls restrained their giggles,
but only with difficulty; and Bettie said
afterwards that she could feel Mrs. Slater
shaking with helpless laughter.</p>
<p>"My heye!" exclaimed Simmons, "wot'll
they be mykin' next! Look! Hit's movin'
'is 'ead."</p>
<p>Rosa Marie proceeded deliberately to
move more than her head. Putting both
hands on the tabouret, she managed somehow
to lift herself clumsily to all-fours,
balancing uncertainly for several moments
in that ungainly attitude. Then she rose to
her feet, and, stiffly, like some mechanical
toy, stretched out her arms toward Henrietta.
Greta backed hastily through the
doorway; but Simmons eyed the swaying
youngster with enlightened eyes.</p>
<p>"Hit's a real biby, from Hindia," said he,
"but think of hit comin' hall that wy in that
there box. But them Indoos 'ave a lot of
queer tricks and Hi suppose they drugged
'im, mide a bloomin' mummy of 'im and sent
directions for bringin' of 'im to."</p>
<p>"Take the box downstairs, please," said
Henrietta, succeeding in the difficult task of
keeping her face straight. "This is a little
North Indian from Lakeville, Simmons, not
an East Indian from India, and it was only
some things that I'm not to look at till Christmas
that came in the box."</p>
<p>"Hi <i>thought</i> hit was mighty stringe," returned
Simmons, looking very much relieved
and not at all resentful. "Hit seemed
sort of hawful, Miss 'Enrietta, to think as
'ow 'uman bein's could tike such chances
with heven their hown hoffsprings. But,
just the sime, Miss 'Enrietta, Hi've 'eard of
them 'Indoos doing mighty queer things,
and Hi, for one, don't trust 'em."</p>
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