CHAPTER IVALORA'S NEW LIFE
Time sears all heart wounds. The scars remain, perhaps, but as theclock ticks on the ache is stilled and the soreness finally passesaway.
At first Alora was heart-broken over her mother's loss. She lived in asort of stupor for weeks after the funeral. Her father's presence sheaccepted without comment or emotion, for it had been arranged by "MammaTone." She did not consider, in those first weeks, whether she caredfor her newly found father or not. Her mother's statement that he was a"good man" and would love Alora dearly was taken by the child as amatter of fact, while her mother's injunction to love him and confidein him in her stead was for the present ignored.
Indeed, during those first weeks Lory had no fault to find with her newprotector, for she saw little of him. Jason Jones retained his room atthe hotel and allowed Alora and her governess to inhabit the handsomesuite her mother had occupied, although they were much too small forthe big apartments. However, Lory would have felt uncomfortable, justthen, in any other place. Her mother's chamber was closed and thecurtains drawn, but every night before she retired to her own littleroom the child would steal in, in the dark, and feel her way to theempty bed and kiss the pillow on which her dear mother's head hadrested. Miss Gorham, the governess, was aware of these eveningexcursions, but offered no objection. Indeed, the woman objected tonothing that did not interfere with her own personal comfort andconvenience. Under the eyes of Mrs. Jones she had been prim anddutiful, but there was no one to chide her now, however neglectful shechose to be, and it was true that during these days the little girlrequired no particular care. Alora resumed her morning studies withmeekness a week after her mother had been laid away, and in theafternoons she rode or walked with Miss Gorham or received the callerswho came to "console poor Antoinette Seaver Jones' child."
Despite her haughty reserve, Mrs. Antoinette Seaver Jones hadaccumulated a wide circle of acquaintances--if not friends--whosincerely mourned her untimely death and would have been glad tobefriend her little girl were such services needed. But it was knownthat Alora's father had now appeared to guard her welfare and there was"so much money in the Jones family" that no financial aid was required;therefore, these acquaintances could only call to see Alora and professtheir friendship.
The child listened gravely to their stilted praises of her mother andaccepted their platitudes in good faith. It was indeed comforting tohear so many nice things said of her loved one.
Her father was never present on these occasions. He was by no means asociable man. Sometimes he came in for a few minutes, in the morning,and sat down and stared at the girl in a way half curious and halfspeculative, and said little, and presently went away as quietly as hehad come.
The nurse, Janet Orme, left on the day that Mrs. Jones died, and Alorahad almost forgotten the young woman when one afternoon she came to seeher. Janet no longer wore her nurse's uniform but was dressed inultra-fashionable apparel and to the child's amusement affected themanners of a lady. She talked more with Miss Gorham than with the littlegirl and was keen to know what arrangements had been made for theirfuture. Miss Gorham admitted that she had no idea of Mr. Jones'intentions. Of course they could not remain long in this elaboratesuite; a smaller one would be more satisfactory in every way; but Mr.Jones had not as yet mentioned the subject.
A few days afterward, during one of their walks, Alora was surprised tosee her father and nurse Janet riding past in a hired automobile. Thetwo seemed engaged in earnest conversation and neither noticed Alora orher governess. Miss Gorham snorted rather disdainfully but withoutremark, and Lory was not especially interested in the matter.
Meantime, letters of administration had been issued to Jason Jones andthe control of his wife's--now Alora's--property legally placed in hishands. Judge Bernsted attended to all the necessary details and, whilehe did not admire the artist and secretly believed he was unfitted forthe task of handling so much money, he loyally insisted that the deadwoman's wishes be obeyed to the letter.
Dr. Anstruther had called on the attorney and had ventured to state hismisgivings concerning Jason Jones, pleading that Alora was likely tosuffer through the man's indifference and lack of culture, but JudgeBernsted declared it was not his duty to criticise character but to seethat the wishes of his clients were obeyed. In this case doubtless theman's wife knew him more intimately than anyone else and if she trustedhim, aware as she must be of his faults and virtues, it would bepresumptuous for anyone to try to break her will or otherwise interferewith her carefully planned arrangements.
But Jason Jones was improving, in a way. He had bought new clothes anda supply of linen, and although he did not wear them with the ease ofone accustomed to modish dress they certainly improved his appearance.He was quiet and unassuming; he made no friends and few acquaintances;he never mentioned himself or his personal history and never referredto his wife except when forced to do so by some of "her meddlingfriends"--well meaning people who sought his acquaintance to condolewith him or perhaps to attempt to "cultivate" him for Antoinette SeaverJones' sake. But these found him so unresponsive that they soon lefthim alone.
The legal business, even though it progressed smoothly, required timefor consummation, so it was somewhat more than three months before allthe details were complete. Alora, a sad-faced child with no especialinterest in life, kept no track of time and plodded along in hermorning-studies and took her afternoon drives or walks in a perfunctorymanner that rendered Miss Gorham's duties light indeed. But all thisended suddenly, and Jason Jones ended it.
He came to the rooms one morning and said to the governess in hisabrupt way: "Pack up."
"What do you mean, sir?" was the startled query.
"Just what I say. Get the child's things and your own ready to move outof this place by Saturday. Also pack the personal belongings of Mrs.Jones. Put them in separate trunks and boxes, so I can have themstored. Do you understand me?"
"I--I shall need assistance," gasped the bewildered Miss Gorham.
"Then get a maid--or a porter--or both--to help you."
Alora was present and listened with awakening interest. A change of anysort would be pleasant, she reflected.
"Where are we going?" she asked, as her father turned away.
It was the one question Miss Gorham wanted to ask, too, but Mr. Jonesleft the room without reply.
Three days was little enough time to gather up and pack theaccumulation of years. The governess knew there were many big trunks inthe storeroom of the hotel belonging to Mrs. Jones, and these sheordered brought up to the rooms. Then she procured two maids, told themwhat and how to pack, and composedly resumed her reading.
"I am no menial," she told Alora, with a lofty air of superiority;"these persons will do their work properly, I'm sure."
On Saturday morning Mr. Jones appeared again.
"Is everything ready?" he demanded.
"Ask Susan and Jane," replied Miss Gorham.
Susan and Jane declared everything was packed, even to the suit casesand traveling satchels.
"But where are we going?" inquired the governess.
"You are going wherever you please," said Jason Jones. "I do notrequire your services longer."
"You're going to discharge me?" she said, startled.
"You are already discharged."
"But who will look after poor Lory? Who will attend to her education,and to--to--her comforts?"
"I will. Here is your money. I have paid you a week in advance, in lieuof notice."
"A week? Pooh! I'm hired by the year," asserted the woman defiantly.
"Have you a written contract?"
"No; a verbal contract is just as good."
"It won't hold in law. Take your traps and go--at once."
The governess looked at him. He was absolutely calm and determined.Instinctively she knew that any protest would be unavailing.
Alora regarded the dismissal of her governess with as much unconcern asher father displayed. Miss Gorham had been her companion f
or years, buthad never won the smallest corner of the girl's heart. Although she wasnot aware of the fact, the woman's constant presence and lack ofinterest in her had become oppressive. The child's first sensation, onrealizing their future separation, was one of distinct relief.
When Miss Gorham had gone, seeming to begrudge the terse "good-bye" shegave her pupil, the girl's father quietly said: "Come, Alora," andwalked away.
She followed him to a waiting taxicab, in which had been heaped herhand luggage and his own, and they drove away from the grand hotelwhere she had lived in luxury for so long, and where so many indeliblememories had been impressed upon her childish mind, with as little adoas if they had been transient guests.
When the cab drew up at a railway station, Alora asked:
"Are we leaving town, then, father?"
"Yes," he replied; "I am returning to New York."
She felt a slight sinking of the heart, just then, but it was followedby a sense of elation. The old life, in which her adored mother hadplayed so prominent a part, was being abandoned forever, and thistroubled her, she knew not why.
But since Mamma Tone had gone away the old life had lost its charm andbecome dull and stupid. Lory was not sure she could be happierelsewhere, but her crushed and dispirited nature responded to thesuggestion of change. It was interesting to have something different tolook forward to.
The man beside her was no more congenial than Gorham had been, but hewas her father; he was the guardian selected by her dead mother, and inobeying his wishes she might find her future life more grateful thanhad been the dreadful dreary months since Mamma Tone had left her.
Somehow, Jason Jones seemed uneasy in the presence of his daughter.During the journey to New York he rode most of the time in the smokingcompartment, only appearing to take Alora to the diner for her meals.The child was equally uncomfortable in her father's society and waswell pleased to be left so much alone.
So, with very little questioning or conversation on either side, fatherand daughter came to their destination and Alora found herselfdeposited in a small suite of rooms on the third floor of a grimy anddingy house in East Sixty-seventh Street--one of a long row of similarhouses that were neither residences nor business establishments, buthovered between the two. There were several little tin signs nailedbeside the entrance and Lory noticed that one of these read: "JasonJones. Studio. 3rd Floor." It was an old sign, scarcely legible, whileothers beside it seemed bright and new, and when the girl had climbedlaboriously up the three flights and the artist had unlocked the doorat the head of the stairs, with a key which he took from his pocket,she found everything about the rooms she entered as old and faded asthe sign on the door.