The Flower Brides

  She stood for a moment measuring the distance with her eye, calculating how it could be done. Then she stopped, picked up the flower, and sped back to the house.

  All day as she was working, doing last things, filled with anguish as she was, there still was an undertone of exultation that the flower had been there again. It seemed to be the one bright thread in the dark fabric of her life. She did not want to think about it too carefully lest sane reasoning might take it away from her. She wanted to hold on to this one little cheerful thing while she was going through these blackest hours that had ever yet come her way.

  They set the dinner table as soon as Diana had swallowed the few mouthfuls that made up her brief lunch. Maggie wisely saw that the best thing she could do for her young mistress was to keep her busy, and this matter of the evening meal would be the hardest of the day. It was best to get it over with since it was inevitable, so she asked in an innocent tone, “Will you be wantin’ the best china tonight?” And Diana turned a startled look on her.

  “Oh, not Grandmother’s china!” she exclaimed in a pained voice. “Helen made fun of it once, said it looked as if it came out of the ark. Besides, Mother always said that was to be mine. Grandmother’s wedding china, and not a piece broken!”

  “You’ll want to be packin’ it up then,” warned Maggie, with a grim look on her face.

  “I ought to get a professional packer for that,” said the girl, with a troubled look at the clock. “I wonder if there would be time to get it done today. It will be no use to do it after she comes. She’ll manage to break it or sell it or something if she knows I love it.”

  “No need for a packer,” said Maggie briskly. “Many’s the set of china I’ve packed in my day and never a wee bit chipped. You bring me all the old newspapers from up the stairs, an’ I’ll have it out of the way in the whisk of a lamb’s tail. There’s a nice clean barrel or two down in the cellar that will be just right, and when it’s away, I’ll nail the head up and whisk it off in a dark corner an’ she’ll never know it’s there.”

  “Oh, Maggie, you’re such a comfort!” said Diana, struggling with her feelings. “But—I’m wondering—you don’t suppose Father will notice that we haven’t it on the table, do you? We always used it on very special occasions, you know. He might think I was insulting her by using the everyday dishes.”

  “He said for you to put away your mother’s things that might mind his new wife of her, didn’t he? Well, then he can’t blame you. But anyway, he’ll not notice. He’ll have enough on his mind without takin’ on the dishes also. Come, away with you and bring the newspapers. We’d best get the dishes out of the way first.”

  So Diana got the newspapers and then came back to help Maggie take the dishes down from their top shelf and carry them all down to the cellar. Maggie wiped off the cupboard shelves, put fresh papers on them, and arranged other dishes of which there were many not in daily use so that the grandmother’s set was not missed. Then they went down to the cellar and Diana wrapped cups and plates under Maggie’s direction, and in an incredibly short space of time the barrel was filled and rolled off into a dark corner and they came up to set the table.

  “You’ll not be wantin’ flowers for a centerpiece?” asked Maggie.

  “No!” said Diana in a bleak voice. “No flowers!”

  “You could take out a few roses from the livin’ room an’ never be missed,” she suggested speculatively, “but I wouldn’t if I was you.”

  “No,” said Diana crisply, “no flowers at all. This isn’t a festive occasion. I don’t feel right to make it so. It wouldn’t be appreciated if I did. Let the flowers stay where they are.”

  “You’re right,” said the old servant. “You’re not called upon to do more than your father suggested. She’s not one would ever miss the blossoms, not if she didn’t get them herself.”

  So the table was set with a fine new tablecloth and napkins that had never yet been monogrammed, set with formal precision and care but with no festive touches, and Diana hesitated a long time whether to set a plate for herself. Would it not be better taste to let them eat by themselves this first time? It would be much pleasanter for her not to have to be present.

  But Maggie shook her head. “It’s your right to be at your father’s table, an’ I’m sure he would consider it an unnecessary affront. He’ll find out soon enough what a bitter mistake he’s made without your hastenin’ it.”

  So Diana let the place stay and went away to her room to face this new thought about the dinner. How was she going to eat dinner under the circumstances? The food would choke her. And if she didn’t eat, her father would be annoyed and speak of it and Helen would laugh with that look of a naughty little devil in her eye. If she only had someone to advise her and help her through this hard time! For an instant she had a wild thought of asking Bobby Watkins to come to dinner, and then immediately she knew that would not do. For, in addition to the fact that he hated Helen and considered her very ill-bred and that Helen always made fun of him to his face, there was the fear that both her father and Helen would, of course, think that Bobby had become something more to her than just a friend, and Diana realized that that would be most repulsive to her. It would be equivalent to announcing that she was engaged to him! Inviting him that way in an intimate family party the first night her father brought his new wife home. And, of course, she didn’t want them to think any such thing as that. Bobby would take such significance out of it also. No, she couldn’t invite Bobby, even if she wanted him there, and she didn’t.

  The afternoon went all too swiftly at the last for the numberless little things that were to be done. Diana felt as if she had lived through centuries since she had received that awful letter from her father. It seemed as if she had passed through every phase of human feeling that there was. And at last she stood by the window in the living room looking out down the drive, just as she had done that morning when the letter came. But there was no crystal vase with carnations by her side. She had hidden it in her closet. Helen should not get a sight of the carnations, not if she had to burn them up. Her romance would turn into ashes if once Helen found out about it.

  Diana was dressed plainly in a slim black dress with nothing to brighten it. She would not give the impression of having dressed up. She had knelt down beside her bed before she left her room and prayed to God that He would help her to behave in a right way in this new and trying situation, but it had not done her much good. She had never learned to pray in anything but a formal way, and she had no heart in her prayer now, but it seemed that she needed some help somewhere lest she overstep the bounds of justice in the present part she had to play in the tragedy that her life had become. She had no desire to do anything which would be unjust to either her father or Helen, but her love for her father and her indignation for what he had done and her hatred for Helen’s ways were so mixed up in her frantic young mind that she wasn’t able to discern just where was the borderline between right and wrong; so she went to God, feeling that if it were something He really cared about, He might in some mysterious way help her. That was all she knew of God.

  So Diana stood in her slim black dress with big dark circles under her eyes and weary lines around her young lips and watched down the driveway for her father and her new mother to come.

  It was growing dark and there were cheery little lights twinkling from the cottage through the trees. She watched them enviously. It wasn’t likely that the cottage housed any such tragedy as had come to her. A mansion didn’t bring happiness. How glad she had been that they had been able to keep their own big house that had been home so many dear years. But how gladly would she tonight surrender the big house and go and live in the little cottage by the gate, just she and her father together, if only they might have each other and not Helen!

  And then, just as she felt tears smarting into her eyes again in spite of all her best efforts, another light flashed out from the group of trees and came rapidly on around the curve of the drive.
A taxi! They had come, and now she must meet them! A panic seized upon her and she longed to flee to her room, lock her door, and refuse to come down, but she stood her ground; and the taxi came on, swept up in front of the door, and stopped. The new mistress had arrived!

  Chapter 6

  Gordon MacCarroll brought home a little cheap car that night and housed it in the speck of a garage that used to be a barn. There wasn’t much room for anything else in the building when the little car got in, but Gordon’s mother came out to admire the shabby little car and to beam upon her son with pleasure when he told her what a bargain he had made in buying it.

  “There are just one or two things that need fixing up, and I know how to fix them,” he said gleefully. “The fellow that sold it is going abroad, and he has no use for it anymore. He just got his orders to go and he hadn’t much time to sell, so he was willing to let it go at a bargain. And now, Mother, I shan’t have to be dependent on trains and buses any longer.”

  “Yes, but you’ll be very careful, my son,” said the mother, eyeing the car dubiously. “I’ve always felt afraid of them. Of course, I know you are a careful driver, but it’s other people I’m afraid of.”

  “Well, Mother, I guess we can trust that to God, can’t we? Aren’t we as safe one place as another if we’re following His guidance?”

  “Yes, of course,” said his mother timorously, and then more firmly, “Yes, of course!”

  He laughed and drew her arm through his.

  “Now, come in. I’m hungry as a bear, and I want to tell you the result of my day and what I’m to do tomorrow. I’ve got a chance at a big opportunity if I can make good. I’ve got to start early in the morning, however, in order to see a man before he leaves for a week’s absence. I wish I could take you with me, for it’s going to be a beautiful drive and I know you would enjoy it, but I can’t tell how long I’ll be, and I may have to go farther and be very late getting back, so I guess I won’t risk it this first time. But pretty soon now we can have some good long drives together after I get this buggy tried out. There comes a taxi. They must be having guests at the great house.”

  “It’ll maybe be the master returning,” said the mother, looking toward the taxi as it came on. “The Scotch woman said he was away on business.”

  “Then he’s brought someone home with him,” said Gordon, turning to look at the car as it sped by. “There’s a lady with him.”

  “Some relative, probably. I haven’t seen any of them today. They must have been getting ready for company.”

  They entered the immaculate little kitchen with its pleasant scent of some sweet pastry baking, mingled with cinnamon and cooking apples.

  “A baked apple dumpling, Mother, am I right?” said Gordon eagerly. “Nothing could be better. I hope you made plenty of sauce.”

  “Yes, there’s plenty of sauce,” laughed his mother, as she stopped to take out the fragrant steaming dish. “And I’ve made a wee salad out of some bits of chicken I saved, and there are roast potatoes. Here’s the fork. Take them out, and don’t forget to crack them and let out the steam.”

  A moment more and they were seated at their pleasant supper table, their heads bent in thanksgiving. While up at the great house the taxi had deposited its travelers and presently went speeding by on its way back to the station.

  Diana had turned from the window when she saw them get out of the car, and she stood there frozenly awaiting them. She had a strong impression now that she should go into the hall and meet them, say something, do something appropriate, but somehow she had lost the power to move. It was as if she had suddenly become petrified. The power of speech seemed to have gone, too, for when she heard her father’s voice saying in vexed tones, “Well, I wonder where she is,” the cry with which her heart wanted to greet him died in her throat. He seemed a stranger, an alien, and not her father whom she loved so dearly.

  Then a light laugh with a sneer in the tail of it like the venom of a serpent stung her with the old deadly hatred, and she swayed and would have fallen had she not reached her hands back and clutched the windowsill with her cold, frightened fingers.

  A step and they were in the doorway scanning the room, her father’s eyes upon her where she stood. Her face was white with anguish, her eyes dark and tortured, her sensitive lips trembling.

  He looked at her questioningly, his glance changing into sternness. Then his voice, stern and displeased, spoke: “Well? Diana, is that the way you welcome us?”

  With a cry like a hurt thing, now Diana sprang forward, her eyes on her father, threw her arms around his neck, drew his face down and kissed his cheek, then buried her face on his shoulder and burst into tears, as she clung helplessly to him.

  His arm stealing softly, almost gently around her in the old, familiar way upheld her for the moment and steadied her quivering shoulders that shook with her sobs.

  Then that light, mocking laugh fell on her senses again, and the pain stung back into her heart.

  “Oh, my word! Diana,” trilled the bride in a penetrating voice that found her senses through her sobs, “are you still such a child that you have to go into hysterics? A great big girl like you to be acting like that! I should think you’d be ashamed.”

  The comforting arm that had held her close for an instant in such a reassuring clasp and the caressing hand that had been laid on her sorrowful young head suddenly ceased their tender contact, and her father pushed her from him as one would a naughty child.

  “For heaven’s sake, Diana, be a woman, can’t you?’” he said in low, vexed tones that showed plainly that he was displeased that she should be laying herself open to criticism right at the start.

  His words stung her into silence. She felt shamed and sick that she should have given way. She drew her quivering breath in and realized that she was alone against these two and she need no more expect her father to be on her side in anything. It had come just as she had foreseen it would, only she hadn’t thought it would come so soon.

  She lifted her head and stepped back, brushing the tears away with her hand and lifting a proud young chin that no longer quivered.

  “I’m sorry!” she said coldly, and gave her father a look as alien as his own. Then, with sudden self-control, she added, as if they were stranger-guests, “Dinner is ready to serve whenever you wish it. Will you go upstairs first?”

  “No!” said Helen decidedly. “We’ll eat at once. I’m starved. We’ll go upstairs after dinner. I want to give a few directions before we leave. We’re not staying here tonight, you know. Come!”

  Diana gave her a bleak glance, and they went out to the dining room, Helen leading the way as if she had always done so. She was still wearing her hat, and she drew her gloves off as she went.

  Diana watched her take the mistress’s place at the table as a matter of course, and reaching out, change the position of several dishes as if they offended her. Then she gave a quick glance at the table and a mocking smile came on her lips.

  “I’m glad you didn’t put out those hideous old dishes that you always considered the company set. I’ve always secretly wished to take those out and smash them, and now I think that will be one of the first things I’ll do.”

  She laughed as she said it, flashing her little white teeth between her red, red lips and twinkling her eyes at her husband amusedly in the way she had of saying outrageous things and making them pass for a joke before those whom she wanted to deceive.

  Mr. Disston answered her look with a grave, worried smile. It was evident he saw nothing in her words but pleasantry. But Maggie, coming in at that moment with her tray, heard and fully understood, and the red flamed into her cheeks; her blue eyes with the wet lashes of recently shed tears, angry tears, flashed fire, as much as blue kindly eyes could flash. But she shut her thin lips and went about her serving.

  Diana had slipped into the third seat and was trying beneath the tablecloth to keep her trembling hands still and her lips from quivering. She found her teeth suddenly inclined
to chatter, and she had to hold herself tense to keep from trembling like a leaf.

  Helen, after the first taste of her fruit appetizer, gave her attention to her new stepdaughter.

  “For heaven’s sake, Diana, you haven’t gone ascetic on us, have you?” she asked flippantly. “Why such somber garb? I don’t object to black, of course. It’s smart just now, but that isn’t smart what you have on. It’s just a dud. It isn’t your type and not a bit becoming. I’ll have to get at you and reconstruct your wardrobe, I see. We can’t have you around looking like that.”

  Her father looked up and surveyed her critically.

  “Yes,” he said, “Diana, it does seem as if you might have dressed up a little more festively on an occasion like this.” He gave her a cold look that was meant to show her how disappointed he was in her, and Diana suddenly choked and, for an instant, was on the point of fleeing to her own room.

  “Don’t speak to her, Stephen, she’s got the jitters,” laughed the new mother in an amused tone. “Let her alone till she gets her bearings. Can’t you see she’s all upset, just as I told you she’d be? Let’s talk about something else. What time did you say that train to the shore goes? I want plenty of time to give Diana my directions after dinner.”

  Diana regained a semblance of calm and went on pretending to eat, and the meal dragged its slow progress to the end, the conversation a mere dialogue about trifles between her father and the new wife. Diana sat there listening and realizing more and more how utterly out of things she was intended to be from now on, hardening her heart to the thought, struggling to look as if she did not mind. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she was affording so much wicked amusement to her new stepmother that made it so much harder to bear even than she had expected.