The Mandie Collection (28 page)

Suddenly Mrs. Taft turned to Mandie and said something in French.

Mandie gasped. “Grandmother, I can't understand a word you're saying.”

“Amanda, do you mean Miss Prudence has not been teaching you French?” she demanded in exasperation.

“No, Grandmother,” Mandie replied, holding her squirming kitten tightly. “No one has even mentioned it to me.”

“Well, there must be some misunderstanding,” Mrs. Taft said, shaking her head. “That was one reason your mother selected Miss Prudence's school. She wanted you to learn French and music and all the social graces.”

“I know Miss Prudence has a French class for some of the girls, but no one told me I was supposed to take it,” Mandie protested. “I'm not sure I could learn to speak another language.”

“Oh, but you will, Amanda,” her grandmother assured her. “It is absolutely necessary. Remember, when we go to Europe, there is very little English spoken over there—except in England, of course.”

“That's one time you'll just have to do all the talking,” Mandie teased. “But I didn't even know you could speak French until just now.”

“I've never had the occasion to use it around you, I suppose,” Mrs. Taft replied. “However, people say I am very good at it—speaking or reading.”

Snowball kept squirming, trying to get down. In his furious attempt to get free, he scratched Mandie.

“Ow!” Mandie cried. “Grandmother, would you please ask that girl if she knows how we can get a sandbox for Snowball? I think that's what he needs right now.”

To Mandie's surprise, Isabelle smiled and said in English, “Come with me, Miss Amanda. We are prepared for Snowball.” Leading the way back across the hallway to Mandie's room, she walked over to a fancy mahogany box in one corner and pointed. “Snowball's bathroom,” she said.

Seeing the box full of sand, Mandie let the kitten jump down into it and turned back to the girl. “Thank you, Isabelle. It was nice of you to have that ready for him.”

“Oh, but Miss Amanda, it was not I who thought of this,” Isabelle said quickly. “It was the President himself. He said, ‘Isabelle, Miss Amanda says in her letter she is bringing Snowball, her kitten. Therefore, we must have something prepared for him, too.' ” She gestured as she talked. “So he had the box full of sand put there, just for Snowball. He says we should not let the kitten out of the house, also. Snowball could get lost.”

“Oh, the President must be such a nice man. I'm so eager to meet him!” Mandie exclaimed, glancing around the room full of beautiful furnishings. “And I just love this house!”

Isabelle agreed and then left Mandie by herself to rest. It seemed she had just drifted off to sleep when Isabelle knocked on the doors to tell Mandie and her grandmother they had one hour to get dressed for dinner. Then they were to meet the President in his parlor.

Mandie got up quickly and found that not only had her bags been taken to her room, but someone had unpacked them and put her things in the bureau and wardrobe.

Mandie kept trying on the new dresses her grandmother had bought for her, unable to decide just what to wear. After helping Mrs. Taft, Isabelle came into Mandie's room.

“Which one, Isabelle?” Mandie asked.

“The blue one, to match your eyes.” The maid pointed to the pale blue silk.

“Thanks,” Mandie said, holding up the dress. “That's the one I had just about decided on, anyway. Do you think it will be suitable—I mean, the way it's made?”

“Very appropriate.” Isabelle smiled. “High neck, long sleeves, so you don't have to wear a shawl. It gets drafty in the dining room sometimes. Here. Let me help.”

With Isabelle's assistance, Mandie got the blue silk dress on over the necessary petticoats, then turned to the mirror to decide what to do with her long blonde hair.

Isabelle pulled Mandie's hair back, leaving a few loose ends over Mandie's ears. “Like this,” she said. “Tie a blue ribbon right here.”

Mandie quickly got a blue ribbon from the bureau drawer. Isabelle threaded the ribbon through Mandie's hair and tied it in a big bow.

“That looks nice,” Mandie said, admiring herself in the mirror. “I'll have to get you to show me how to do that.”

“You need some jewelry,” Isabelle decided.

Mandie reached into her jewelry box and chose the sand dollar on a chain that Tommy had given her for Christmas.

Isabelle approved and helped her fasten it.

Mandie twirled around and around before the mirror. The elegant floor-length blue silk dress made Mandie feel grown up. Actually, the dress was a little too long and covered her feet, but that didn't bother Mandie. She was happy.

The clock on the mantel struck five.

“It is time, Miss Amanda,” Isabelle announced. “Let's get your grandmother and go to the parlor.”

Mandie's legs would hardly carry her down the hallways as she and her grandmother followed Isabelle to the President's parlor.

Isabelle paused at the door, tapping lightly before opening it. Then, as the young maid pushed the door open, Mandie saw a tall, portly man with brown hair and a cleft chin. He was standing before the fireplace. Her heart beat wildly.
The President
!

Mandie's heart pounded as Isabelle announced the guests. “Mrs. Norman Taft and Miss Amanda Shaw, Mr. President.” She led them through the doorway. “Is there anything else, sir?”

The President dismissed the maid and turned to smile at Mandie. “Ah, Miss Amanda Shaw,” he said warmly. “Do come in and sit down. It is such a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Mandie couldn't move. Mrs. Taft had to take her hand and lead her into the room. Mrs. McKinley motioned to a settee where they sat down.

Later, Mandie could hardly remember what went on in that room. The President centered most of his attention on Mandie while his wife entertained Mrs. Taft until dinner was announced. Mandie knew that she and the President had carried on a conversation about the hospital for the Cherokees, but as she lay in the big bed in the guest room that night with Snowball curled up on the other pillow, all she could remember was her embarrassment.

As soon as she had sat on the settee, her dress moved slightly upward and she glanced down to see that she was still wearing her
bedroom slippers
! Her face felt as if it were on fire, and as she tried to hold her feet backward under her dress, hoping the President wouldn't notice, she couldn't concentrate on a thing the man was saying. The whole time, she kept watching, hoping he wouldn't look down at her feet.

Even when they went into the dining room and her feet were well hidden under the table, Mandie was still so uncomfortable she could hardly eat a bite.

She was relieved when everybody said good night and went to their rooms. Fortunately, her grandmother had never noticed the bedroom slippers. She wasn't sure whether the President had or not.

CHAPTER NINE

FOOTSTEPS IN THE HALL

As Mandie lay in bed, staring at the crackling fire in the fireplace, she relived the evening over and over again. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the noise in the hallway at first. Then it seemed to grow louder, and she sat up to listen.

It must be awfully late
, she thought, but it sounded like someone shuffling down the hallway. She was sure she heard the footsteps go down the hallway and back up twice.

Finally Mandie got up enough nerve to creep over to the door, and open it a crack. The White House was spooky after dark, with so many hallways and rooms—even though it was lit here and there.

At first she couldn't see anyone, but then as she started to close the door, a figure came shuffling down the hallway toward her room. Holding the door open only far enough to peek through the crack with one eye, she gasped in disbelief as the figure passed her room.
It couldn't be him
! she thought, her heart pounding.
He's dead! Long years ago
!

Quickly closing the door, she caught her breath, then jerked the door open again and looked out. There was no one in sight. Glancing up and down the hallway a moment she thought,
Did I just imagine that? Or am I completely losing my senses
?

Mandie closed the door and made sure it was tightly shut. Then she ran and jumped back into bed and covered up with the warm quilts.
Snowball hasn't even moved
, she thought.
If he didn't hear anything, maybe my imagination is just running away with me
.

Oh, how she wished Celia were here to talk to. And oh, how she wished for daylight to come.

Exhausted from her long journey, Mandie slept so soundly that she didn't hear the soft knock on her door the next morning. She awakened to the gentle shaking of her shoulder.

“Mandie,” a familiar voice whispered.

Mandie awoke with a start. Quickly she sat up in bed to see her friend, Sallie Sweetwater, Uncle Ned's granddaughter, smiling down at her. Mandie rubbed her eyes and blinked. “Sallie? Are you really here or am I dreaming?” she asked in confusion. “How did you get here?”

Sallie laughed. “The President sent for me to come visit, too,” she said.

Snowball lifted his head off the pillow where he was sleeping, then went back to sleep.

Mandie swung her feet onto the carpet and stretched. “Oh, Sallie, this is too good to be true! Yesterday when we were driving through Washington, looking at all the sights, I wished you were here to see everything with me.” She rubbed her eyes again. Then seeing the door open a crack, she reached for her robe and slipped into it. “Are you sure I'm not dreaming?”

Suddenly Mandie heard a voice from the hallway. “I don't think you're dreaming,” it said.

Mandie caught her breath. “Joe!” she exclaimed, instantly recognizing the voice of her long-time friend, Joe Woodard. He was two years older than Mandie, and she had grown up with him in Charley Gap before moving to Franklin.

Pulling her robe tightly about her, she ran to peek into the hallway. “Joe, I'm so glad to see you,” she said breathlessly. “You can't imagine what happened to me last night! Just wait out there a minute until I get dressed.”

She closed the door, then rushed about the room, finding clothes and getting dressed while she babbled with Sallie. “Nobody told me you and Joe were coming here,” she said, slipping into a new pink dress.

Sallie perched on the arm of a chair nearby. “I did not know either until three days ago,” she replied. “Then someone brought my grandfather the message that he was to bring Joe and me to the White House.

I could not believe it. I knew you were going because my grandfather had told me, but I did not know Joe and I were being invited, also.”

As Mandie finished buttoning her dress, she noticed with surprise that her friend was fashionably attired in a pretty red silk dress. Sallie always wore skirts, waists, and moccasins—Indian fashion. “You look absolutely beautiful, Sallie!” Mandie exclaimed. “I've never seen you so dressed up.”

Sallie stood up, straightened her full skirt and smiled. “It may be beautiful, but it is not comfortable,” she replied. “Do you know who got me all dressed up?”

Mandie shook her head.

“Your mother,” Sallie replied.

“I might have known,” Mandie said, pulling on her stockings. “But how? You live so far away from my mother.”

“The man from the President's office found my grandfather at your house. Then your mother had my grandfather rush home to bring Joe and me there,” she explained. “You should see Joe in his fine clothes.”

“I imagine he's fussing about them, too,” Mandie replied. “I don't like all this finery either, but Grandmother bought all these things for me.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Did you bring your regular clothes with you?” she asked. “I slipped one of my school dresses into my valise without Grandmother knowing about it.”

“I also brought comfortable clothes, so I could at least wear them on the journey home,” Sallie told her.

“Let's put them on,” Mandie said, quickly reaching for her buttons.

“No, Mandie, we cannot do that right now,” Sallie told her. “Joe and I are waiting to meet the President and the First Lady. We got here early before they were up and dressed, so we will have breakfast with them and you and your grandmother.”

Mandie sighed. “I suppose we'd better wear all these fine clothes until you and Joe meet the President,” she said. “Then when he gets busy, we'll change first chance we get.” She quickly brushed out her long hair. “Where is your room?” she asked.

“I am to share this one with you,” Sallie replied. “Joe is sharing a room with my grandfather, and they are next to your grandmother's room.”

“Uncle Ned is staying here too! Oh, that's great, Sallie!” Mandie exclaimed. “But where is your luggage?”

“Outside in the hallway,” Sallie answered.

Mandie quickly tied a pink ribbon in her hair, then hurried to the door and opened it. Joe had propped his lanky frame against the opposite wall, and there he stood, waiting. As the girls stepped into the hallway, Joe picked up Sallie's bag and set it inside Mandie's room. Then closing the door carefully so Snowball wouldn't get out, he rejoined the girls in the hallway.

“Oh, Joe!” Mandie said excitedly, “I'm so glad you and Sallie were invited. And Sallie says Uncle Ned is here, too.”

Joe smiled and nodded, running his long, bony fingers through his unruly brown hair.

Mandie looked him over from head to toe. “You really look nice in all those Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes,” she said with a giggle.

Joe looked a little embarrassed. “Well, your dress is even fancier than Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes.” He laughed. “But Uncle Ned just wore his deerskin jacket and pants and moccasins, like usual.”

“I'm glad he is just his old self in the White House,” Mandie replied. “He doesn't have to pretend to be anything else.”