Powelton quickly dodged around the corner of the porch out of sight and remarked aloud to himself or to Corliss, who had also dodged out of sight, “Well, for crying out loud! Can you beat it?”
But Dale paid no heed to her aunt’s admonition. She was at the door now, her hands extended cordially and a little lilt in her voice as she said clearly, “Oh Mrs. Granniss! I’m so glad you were able to come! And how lovely that you brought the Bonniwells with you. This makes it just perfect!”
But behind Dale the former guests sprang to their feet in consternation, with a shower of playing cards all over the floor at their feet where they had fallen from the hand of the one who was dealing.
So the guests entered, five of them. The Grannisses and the Bonniwells and their charming daughter, the latter in a gorgeous evening dress.
“You must excuse our formal dress,” said Mrs. Bonniwell, entering cordially into the room and not seeming to notice what was going on. “We have just come from the Newell wedding, you know, and the Grannisses simply insisted that we join them here. I do hope we’re not intruding.”
But Dale turned graciously, looked at the dismayed group behind her, and began her introductions with pleasant poise, more than she likely would have had if there had not been the interval out in the darkness of the backyard to prepare herself and gather strength from above.
“This is my aunt Mrs. Huntley, Mr. Bonniwell. I think you, Mrs. Granniss, have met her before, haven’t you?”
The incoming guests were full of courtesy and graciousness and appeared not to notice the distraught look of the formally jovial crowd. Of course they couldn’t know how funny they were, caught all unawares with that ridiculous shower of cards at their feet and that guilty look over them all. The strangers from the hotel were impressed with the newcomers. The Grannisses were always distinguished-looking people, and the elegant simplicity of the Bonniwells, even the young daughter, was demanded attention, and they looked the Bonniwells over thoroughly and realized that these were people from another world.
But it was Greenway Buffington who seemed the most uncomfortable and made the first move, with a troubled glance at his watch. “I’m afraid I must be moving on, Mrs. Huntley. You know I told you my time was limited.” And with a hurried bow toward that embattled lady, he turned to slide out by the dining room door, thus sidestepping any contact whatever with that Granniss man, of whom he was not at all enamored, was in fact at present almost afraid. At least afraid that here was one who would upset his own plans for personal aggrandizement with this rather promising client.
Now Hattie had been quietly, deftly stepping around the living room, picking up and removing first the precious Spode plates, which she had placed safely on the dining room table, then the glasses. She had just gone through the dining room door and was carefully turning around to avoid hitting a chair in her way when Lawyer Buffington barged through the door, coming full tilt against her tray, which was more than overloaded, some of the glasses having just been refilled and Hattie trying to keep them from slopping over.
But Lawyer Buffington was coming full sail with plenty of power behind him, and he hit the loaded tray squarely and knocked the glasses everywhere, not only making a great crash but also a widespread splash, for the wine sloshed all over his immaculate white suit, streaming down in ugly dark rivulets and up into his face, even in his eyes, utterly putting him out of commission for the moment as far as sight was concerned.
Meanwhile the whole tray of glasses went down on the dining room hardwood floor with a mighty crash, and Hattie could do nothing about it. But before she tried to pick anything up or even to exclaim over what had happened, she did have presence of mind enough to reach out and close that dining room door, thus shutting the other guests out of the scene of disaster and shutting them into their own utter undoing.
The first impulse of the strangers caught in the general melee was flight.
“I really think we should be going, too,” spoke up the woman from the hotel who had suggested the way to get the wine and had drunk deeply of it already. “You know, my dear, we are greatly indebted to you for this delightful party.” She turned to Aunt Blanche hastily and gave her a hurried little pat on the shoulder. “And you have made it so delightful for us that the time has passed for us before we knew it. Do you realize how late it is? I am afraid the band has finished my piece that I especially requested for tonight, and I promised I would be there to applaud. Come friends, we must ‘scram’ quickly, isn’t that what the children say? Good night! See you in the morning!” And the visitor scrammed.
It was really very funny when one was looking on. The guests that Aunt Blanche had brought in through Lawyer Buffington made brisk adieus and vanished. Aunt Blanche and her two guests from the hotel decided they, too, must leave. The young people had disappeared.
And when the sound of the hurrying cars that they had come in was dying out in the distance, the Grannisses and the Bonniwells and Dale by common consent sat down and laughed.
“Well,” said Mr. Granniss, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his immaculate handkerchief, “that was about the easiest job of ejection I ever was called upon to do.”
And then they all laughed again.
In the sudden silence that followed the second laughter they could hear a broom plying in the dining room and the tinkle of broken glass as Hattie hurried to clear away the traces of disaster.
Then Dale rose and opened the door. “Don’t you want more light, Hattie?” she asked. “There are bits of glass on this side of the door, too. I saw them fly under through the crack.”
“Yes ma’am, Miss Dale,” said Hattie in almost a sob. “I spec’s somehow this whole thing was somehow my fault, but there didn’t seem no way I could have prevented it. Here’s only just one thing to be thankful for. There ain’t none of them Spode cups your grandma laid such store by broke, not a one. And I got money enough to buy new glasses, so you needn’t worry none, Miss Dale. I was only tryin’ to get outta that old galoot’s way, and he come bargin’ right in on me.”
That started the group laughing again, and Dale had to go right up to Hattie and tell her she was proud of her, and she didn’t mind it happening, and it would be all right, and she needn’t pay for the glasses—they were only cheap ones, anyway—and they all knew it wasn’t her fault. And then Hattie recovered so that she was able to come into the living room and laugh with the rest. It might be that if Aunt Blanche had seen that—Hattie in the best room laughing at her crowd and hobnobbing along with the elegant Mrs. Bonniwell—she would have passed right out. Dale was thankful she wasn’t there and need never know it.
“I can never thank you enough for coming to my rescue, Mr. Granniss,” said Dale. “I was perfectly appalled when I got back here and found what was going on. And I don’t know what the neighbors are thinking of it yet. They are such quiet, respectable people and such dear friends of Grandmother’s. It would seem to them such a desecration.”
“I don’t wonder, my dear,” said the old guardian. “And I’m glad you called on us. Do it again as often as there is need. Of course you understood that I would tell the Bonniwells all about the circumstance and they were delighted to help.”
“Well, it was wonderful. And it was all the better that they were wearing such lovely garments. I could see the evening dresses went over big. One diamond speaks volumes to my aunt and cousins.”
“You dear child! Well it’s good the diamonds can be of real use somewhere,” said Mrs. Bonniwell, smiling. “And I’m sorry, dear, that you are having such an uncomfortable time—just after your recent sorrow. But don’t worry. This sort of thing doesn’t last forever, and someday it will pass. I’m so glad to have had an opportunity to help in a small way, and of course you understand I’ll say nothing about all this to anyone.”
When they were gone, Dale felt a surge of relief and a return of her joyous thrills as she remembered David Kenyon and the day they had spent together.
She t
urned out the porch light, gave a quick comprehensive glance around the disheveled living room, and then turned toward the open dining room door where Hattie stood, her face drawn into the most disapproving expression she knew how to wear.
“Well,” she said with a tone like a punishment, “now will you do something about her? Now will you see what I mean and send her off?”
“Listen, Hattie,” said Dale, still with that lilt in her voice, for somehow she was sensing that there was a new joy to revel in, in spite of all her annoyances. “What would you think I should do?” Dale said, smiling. “You know, after all, Grandmother wouldn’t want me to be rude to her. But I think there will be a way, somehow. I think God will do something about it.”
“Rude!” sniffed Hattie. “I should say she was being rude to you.”
“Well, perhaps that doesn’t matter, Hattie. I’m a Christian, and I must be sure not to do anything the Lord would not approve.”
“Now, Miss Dale!” sniffed Hattie indignantly. “You know the Lord couldn’t never like such actions as was goin’ on here tonight. Drinkin’ and shoutin’ crazy things so all the neighborhood could hear. Desecrating the home of one of the holiest woman that ever lived on this earth.”
Dale drew a trembling, troubled breath. “I know, Hattie. It was rather dreadful, wasn’t it? I’m sure we shall hear from the neighbors tomorrow in some way. I think they must have been shocked. No, I’m sure it wouldn’t have pleased the Lord, but the Lord never set me to judge other people’s wrong actions.”
“Well, I ain’t so sure,” said Hattie. “This here is your house, ain’t it? Nobody else can say what shall go on here, but you can. And surely you don’t think the Lord wants such doin’s in a Christian home. You don’t think that’s honorin’ Him, do you?”
“No, I suppose not,” said Dale thoughtfully. “But I’m not just sure yet what I should do. I’ll think it over, and I’ll pray it over, and I’ll ask the Lord to take charge. Of course if it’s only a matter of annoyance to us, or even embarrassment, maybe we are supposed to be gentle and forgive and stand it.”
“No sir, Miss Dale, not in your own house! If you was a man, you’d just tell her it couldn’t go on. Of course I know you be young and it ain’t easy to speak up to a humbugger like that aunt, but I guess somehow you gotta do it.”
“I’ll pray about it,” said Dale, smiling and patting Hattie’s shoulder. “But now, come on and let’s go to bed. You lock up the kitchen, and I’ll lock up the front.”
So the two went to work and soon were up in their rooms preparing for rest.
As Dale turned out her light, she paused a moment by her window in the darkness and looked at the sky. Dark, dark blue set out with stars, many of them. And off somewhere under those stars David was in a train hastening away from her into another world. He hadn’t said which way after New York, but she had a feeling it might be west. But she knew in her heart he was thinking of her wherever he was. And she stood there thanking her heavenly Father for the wonderful love that had come so unexpectedly into her lonely young life.
A little later she lay down on her bed, her heart at rest. All through the night her Savior would be watching over her. She was content to trust the annoyances and necessities to Him. He would know how to control this thing, and she would leave it to her heavenly Father.
Chapter 10
The morning mail brought a brief letter for Dale, sent special delivery, mailed on the train. How had he managed to get it sent in time to reach here so soon?
My precious Dale:
It seems incredible that I have the right to call you mine. Only just this morning I didn’t, you know, and my heart is full of rejoicing that you have given me this right.
Oh my darling, I thank my God that as I go out into the unknown I may carry the knowledge of your love with me and leave my love with you.
And I am deeply grateful for the lovely little picture of yourself you gave to me. I shall carry it close to my heart, all the way, wherever I go.
And there is another picture of you that I shall carry in my memory. The lovely vision that you were as I met you this morning. It is fixed in my thoughts indelibly. Did I tell you how beautiful you looked to me? But perhaps there were too many other things to say and the time was too short. So I will save it up in my mind, for every detail of the blue dress and the charming little hat that seemed so fitting for you is stored away in my heart so that I can take it out and look at it, and I shall be writing you from time to time and telling you about it. There isn’t time now, for I want to go back to the mail car and see if I can wangle this into the mailbag that is thrown off when we meet the express pretty soon.
I love you, my sweet, and I had to tell you again before I slept. And may the dear Lord be close beside you continually to comfort and guide you all the way, till we meet again.
Yours,
David
Dale went hurriedly up to her room, hugging the thought to her heart that this letter had reached her before Corliss arrived, for if she had been here she would have been sure to meet the postman and sign for the letter and been sure to examine it thoroughly before she brought it to her. Perhaps she wouldn’t even have brought it. That was a thought. She must do something about her mail. There would be other letters, she hoped. She could not have them at the mercy of Corliss. Of course she could take a box at the post office and have all her personal mail held there. It would be best if she did that at once. Meantime, she must meet the postman herself until she was sure this had been done. Corliss was a little vandal. She wouldn’t hesitate to destroy mail before it had been read if she got the chance, or if she thought it would annoy her cousin. Besides, she would delight to try and find out personal matters and annoy her by speaking of them at most inopportune moments. She must lose no time. With a quick glance at the clock, Dale hurried down to the post office and arranged for a box. This wasn’t going to be a bit convenient, but it was going to be necessary as long as her relatives were with her. With a sigh, she wondered if she would find out anything that morning about their plans.
But when she reached home again they had not as yet come over to breakfast.
“Maybe they had too much last night,” said Hattie with a grin. “Maybe they decided to leave today.”
Dale shook her head. “No such good luck, Hattie,” she said with a smile. “There are a couple of suitcases upstairs in the room where Aunt Blanche takes her naps, and a lot of their other belongings.”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it past ’em to telephone you to pack ’em up and send ’em on,” said Hattie. “Want I should tell you what I think? I think they’re ashamed to come back after the way they acted last night. They know the whole neighborhood would be roused up against ’em, after yelling and screaming the way they did in Grandma’s house just after she’s gone.”
“No, I’m afraid not, Hattie. They have no such shames. In fact, I don’t believe they were ashamed. I think they were only angry because I brought Mr. Granniss here when that other lawyer had brought his friends. They are staying away now to punish me, perhaps. Or else they stayed up so late last night that they haven’t got up yet.”
“Well, whatever it is,” said Hattie grimly, “I s’pose you’ll forgive ’em and be as sweet as a peach to ’em. What you goin’ to give ’em to eat today? Roast turkey or pheasants’ breasts? Me, I’d give ’em another dose of codfish, and even that’s too good for ’em.”
“Was there enough chicken left to make a few sandwiches?” asked Dale.
“Couple a wings and a few scraps. But you forget. The princess don’t care for sandwiches.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter, I suppose. But perhaps you better cream it and put it on toast. It will go further that way.”
“Okay,” said Hattie affably, “and we’ll have a gelatin pudding. There is some extra milk oughtta be used up.”
“That’s all right, Hattie. And fix a little salad of some kind, too.”
“Oh, all right. It’ll piece out.
But you just baby those folks, I say. After they acted like they did I should say it didn’t matter if they had anything to eat or not. But I’ll make it.”
Hattie went away with a chastened look on her grim face, and Dale smiled after her and went upstairs to write an answer to her letter and send it immediately so it would get to her beloved at the first possible moment.
So she sat joyously down and began to write.
It was quite a good deal later that Dale heard a sputtering of angry voices, mounting to a perfect tornado of sound that bore the accents of Hattie in her most indignant mood. And then haughty indignation from her aunt, interspersed by screaming denunciations from both Corliss and Powelton.
Dale smiled, half-amused, and went on with her writing, but she drew a sad little sigh. It was scarcely possible to continue writing loving words when arguments were going on so near to her. She folded her letter, locked it away in the little secret drawer of her desk, and took out fresh paper. There were other notes she must write. She would get those done now while her mind was likely to be distracted. She could not bear to write to David out of the midst of annoyances. He would have enough battles to think about without getting even a hint of her own home-front battles. He must not even get the subconscious atmosphere of distress.
So she began to write thank-you notes to people who had sent flowers to Grandmother’s funeral and to some who had written beautiful letters of condolence. She soon grew interested in getting as many as possible ready for the mail. She had no wish to go down into the atmosphere she was sure she would find in the dining room. So she wrote on.
But after a little while she heard footsteps coming up the stairs and then became aware of someone standing in her open door, looking severely at her. But even then she did not stop writing or look up.
“Oh, so you pretend to be very busy!” said the sharp, querulous voice of the aunt. “You have no apologies to offer for the outrageous way in which I was treated last night.”