She turned and swept the table back into its place, took the clock from the mantel, and locked it inside the bookcase out of reach. Then catching up her purse she hurried out to the group at the gate.
The little girl was engaged in giving an account of the altercation in the house: “That lady in the house is spanking Gerald. She took him up in her arms and held him tight and slapped him awful hard on his bare legs! She’s a hateful old thing! Don’t let’s stay here in this dump, Elaine. Let’s go back to our home! She’s a wicked old woman!”
And from the house there issued such young masculine roars of rage as made the whole neighborhood ring and echo, and brought every householder to the doors and windows to see what had happened to their usually peaceful community.
To this accompaniment Lexie hurried out, counting out her money as she came.
“I have five seventy-five,” she said as she handed out the money, distress in her face.
“Shut up, Angelica!” said the mother fretfully. “Why bring that up now? Wait until I get into the house and I’ll settle with your aunt. And you, Lexie, go on back to the house with your stingy pocketbook. I’ve settled with these two. They are getting me to bed and then they’re going. I found I had a little change left in my purse, and I was tired of waiting on you. Now, Nurse, lift me up and help me get on my feet. Then I can manage to walk between you and the driver. Lexie, suppose you go into the house and get me a cup of coffee. I’ll need it after walking so far. Perhaps you can make yourself that useful. And for heaven’s sake, keep your hands off my children. If you can’t control your temper, I don’t see how we are going to stand having you around.”
Lexie wanted to tell her sister that she wouldn’t have to stand having her there, that she was going back to college, but she shut her gentle lips firmly and hurried into the house.
A moment later she met her sister at the door with a good, cold glass of water.
“I’m sorry, Elaine, there isn’t a bit of coffee in the house. I thought perhaps this glass of water would help.”
Elaine looked at the water with disdain.
“Water!” she said with contempt. “How does it happen there is no coffee in the house?”
“I found a little box of tea in the pantry,” said Lexie. “Would you like a cup of tea? I put the kettle on. It will be ready very soon.”
“Tea!” said Elaine contemptuously. “You know I never could abide tea. You certainly are about as little help as anybody I ever saw. Get out of my way. I can’t stand here forever!” And she edged her way slowly and ostentatiously into the house. Then with many sighs and groanings she was helped up the stairs to the bed Lexie had prepared for her. Even then it was some minutes before the unhappy invalid was settled on the bed, her hat off, her shoes unfastened, and the two assistants departed, thanking their stars that they did not have to stay around that unpleasant woman any longer.
Lexie came hastily up the stairs after watching them depart, and felt that her war had begun.
“You’ll simply have to help me get into bed!” said her sister sharply. “I’m not able to sit up here another minute.”
“Of course,” said Lexie gently, bringing skillful hands to the task. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so miserable. Would you like me to go out and try to find a doctor?”
“Mercy no, not out here. You’ll have to telephone to the city for a doctor. I don’t let every Tom, Dick, and Harry doctor me. I’ve been under a specialist, you know. Can’t you find me a nurse before dark? I’ve simply got to have a nurse. I’m scarcely able to lift my hand to my head. The journey has been so hard on me—and the anxiety about Dick. It’s been awful! I’m sure I thought my own sister would be sympathetic enough to provide a nurse for me and have a heartening meal ready.”
“I’m sorry, Elaine,” said Lexie sadly. “I did all I could in the time you gave me. But you said you were bringing a nurse. I didn’t know you would need one, you know. But wait until we get you comfortable in bed and then we can talk over what to do.”
“Talk over!” said Elaine with a rising voice. “What is there to talk over, I’d like to know? I should think you’d have all you could do to get us some supper and fix beds for the children, and find a nurse for me. You’ll have to call up and get a servant, too, I should think. With three children we can’t get on without at least one servant.”
“Elaine, we’ll have to consider how we can do all that,” said Lexie firmly but sorrowfully. “As I told you I have only enough money to barely exist until I get my job, and even that isn’t here. I’ll have to go back to college and graduate first. Have you money to hire a nurse and a servant and let me go to my work?”
“Well, I should say not,” said Elaine. “I’m down very nearly to the last cent as I told you. I expected you to finance that nurse and driver, but since you shirked out of that you’ll certainly have to get the nurse and servant.”
“That I can’t do,” said Lexie. “I simply haven’t got the money!”
“Oh, very well,” said the older sister coldly. “Have it your own way. We’ll send for my lawyer in the morning and get hold of the money that belongs to me that your mother hoarded away, or I’ll know the reasons why. Just suppose you go out and get some supper ready.”
Elaine dropped down with a sigh on the pillows and closed her eyes, and Lexie, with a hopeless look at her sister, turned and went downstairs wondering how she was going to work out this problem in a good and righteous way. How could she ever go through all this future that had suddenly spread itself out before her shrinking feet? This torture! Why did it have to come to her? Wasn’t it hard enough without all this?
Chapter 3
Lexie cast a helpless look around the neat little kitchen and began rummaging in the pantry. Obviously the first need of the invalid was something to eat. Could she find anything?
There was half a loaf of bread left, and a little butter. She could make some toast. If she could only find some coffee! Then suddenly she remembered a canister up on the top shelf where her mother used to keep coffee. Maybe there would be a little in it. She climbed up and took it down, and rejoiced to find two or three teaspoonfuls of coffee left. It must have been there some time, and probably wouldn’t be as good as freshly ground coffee, but at least it was something. Hurriedly she went about making it, and soon had a little tray ready. Toast and coffee and a bit of jam from a jar in the preserve closet. There was not much of anything left since her mother was gone, but she was glad to find even a little that was edible.
As she started up the stairs she sent a glance out-of-doors. The three children were out on the sidewalk watching the neighbors’ children who had come home from school and were playing hopscotch. Thankful that for the time being they were occupied, she hurried up with the tray.
“I found a little coffee in Mother’s old canister,” she announced cheerfully as she came into Elaine’s room. “I made you a cup, a little toast, too. There isn’t much butter, but it’s better than nothing.”
Elaine turned over and scanned the tray scornfully.
“That the best you can do?” she said hatefully. But she reached for the cup and drank the coffee thirstily.
“I despise coffee without cream,” she announced when she put down the cup.
“Well, there wasn’t any cream.” Lexie smiled. “Of course there was nothing to do but bring what I had. And now, Elaine, if you’re going to stay here for the night I’ll have to go down to the store and get a few things. There isn’t even an egg in the house, and there are only three slices of bread left.”
“Well, for mercy sake! Why don’t you telephone for supplies? You can’t be spared to go down to the store. Somebody needs to look after those children! And they’ll be howling for food pretty soon. Be sure you get a lot of sweet things or Gerald won’t eat a thing. Get cookies. And that butter wasn’t so good. Get a better quality, even if you have to pay more. I can’t eat strong butter.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Elaine, but that butter wa
s some Mrs. Spicer gave me when I came yesterday, and I’m not sure I can get butter. You know we haven’t any ration cards here, and you can’t eat butter without points. The war is upsetting a good many old habits, but I suppose we have to be patient till things right themselves.”
“The perfect idea!” said Elaine. “Of course I brought my ration books along, but they are in the trunks. They won’t come till tomorrow. It’s outrageous! Can’t you tell the storekeeper we have just arrived and I am sick?”
“I can tell him, yes,” laughed Lexie, “but I’m sure from what Mrs. Wilson told me the other day that it won’t do any good. He is not allowed to sell butter without coupons. However, I’ll find something somehow. Now lie still and take a little nap. Will the children be all right playing by themselves?”
“Well, I’m sure I don’t know. I certainly can’t look after them,” said the indifferent mother. “For pity’s sake, don’t stay long! And Lexie, while you’re out, telephone my lawyer and ask him to come over right away, this evening if possible; if not, early in the morning. You’ll find his address in my bag. I think I dropped it on the table in the living room as I came by. His name is Bettinger Thomas.”
“Elaine! You don’t mean Bett Thomas! The boy you used to go to high school with!”
“Why certainly!” said Elaine getting into her high, shrieking tone, prepared for an argument. “What’s the matter with that?”
“But, Elaine! My dear, perhaps you didn’t know, but he’s scarcely considered respectable. He’s been connected with several shady cases the last few years. I don’t suppose you’d heard.”
“Oh fiddlesticks! What difference does that make? He’s a friend, and he’s promised to see me through. I wrote to him. He was recommended to me out where I lived as being one who would carry his case no matter what, and that is what I want.”
“But, Elaine, he’s unspeakable! You wouldn’t want to talk to him. You can’t ask him to come here!”
“Can’t I? Watch me! If you won’t telephone him, I’ll find somebody who can. Go hunt that nurse for me. She’ll do what I ask her, and get her mighty quick, too!”
Lexie stood at the foot of the stairs for a moment speechless, too angry to dare to utter a sound. Then she turned silently and went out of the house and down the street. Wild thoughts were rushing through her mind. How was she going to endure this? How could she go on? Was there any reason why she should?
By the time she had reached the corner, and passed several smiling neighbors who greeted her cheerily, she had so far recovered her normal temper as to be able to smile, at least faintly. After all, why should she be so angry? Just because Elaine was determined to secure an unscrupulous lawyer to try to hunt out a flaw in her dear mother’s dealings? Well, why should she be so upset? They certainly couldn’t find any evidence. But a lawyer like Bett Thomas could make evidence even if there wasn’t any; he could get low-down people to swear to things that counted for evidence. She had heard of some of his dealings. Oh, what should she do? She couldn’t have her dear dead mother’s honorable name blackened by being dragged through a court trial. And yet—well, there was a God! Her mother believed that. And deep in her heart she did, too, although she had never paid much heed to Him, except that she had always tried to order her life in a good and right way as her mother had taught her. God, oh God, why did You let all this come to me? Didn’t You want me to succeed, and graduate, and get that job, and take care of myself in a good, respectable way? So why did I have to go through this fire?
Lexie arrived at the store just before it closed for the evening. She hurried in and began to look around. What could she get without ration stamps? Of course Elaine had said her ration books were in her trunk and would be there in the morning. Of course there were cereals, but Elaine never had liked them, and would her pestiferous children scorn them, too? If she had the opportunity she would like to teach them to like them, but that really wasn’t her present duty. She had hard problems to settle at once, and her immediate necessity was to get something they would all eat happily, and it wasn’t going to be easy, either. Of course there were eggs, and she purchased a supply of those. They kept milk at the store, and she got a couple of bottles. No butter or meat because they were both rationed. No sugar either. How would Elaine stand that? Well, she would have to settle that difficulty with the government, although she would probably act as if it were all her sister’s fault. Well, cookies and cakes! They would supply sweetness for the children. There were apples and pears and a few bananas, but there was no telling what the spoiled youngsters would condescend to eat.
She bought a few potatoes, some spinach and celery. There were oranges, too. At the end, Lexie struggled home with a towering paper bundle in her arms, and a heavy paper bag with a handle in one hand, all full to overflowing. It was surprising how much she had been able to get with the little money she had. On her way home she was thinking how profoundly thankful she was that the nurse and the driver had not had to take her money. She wondered how much more Elaine had hidden in her purse. Well, there was no use thinking about that. They must have a talk that evening, or perhaps it would have to wait until morning if Elaine was not disposed to talk tonight.
When she got back to the little white house she found she was very tired, and would have liked nothing better than just to sit down and cry. But that wouldn’t get anybody anywhere. There had to be some supper made right away. It was after half past six. And she heard Elaine calling her fretfully.
She hurried upstairs and found Elaine sitting up angrily in bed, arguing with a trio of naughty children.
“I know you are hungry,” she was saying angrily, as if the children were to blame for being hungry, “but your aunt didn’t have any supper ready for us, and what can we do?”
“She’s bad! I hate her!” roared Gerald, glaring at her from the foot of the bed.
“You certainly have been gone long enough to buy out the store,” Elaine snarled at her sister. “I hope you got us a good, hearty meal.”
“I’m afraid not,” said Lexie. “The store was just about to close, and I had very little money, but I got all I could without ration books.”
“Fiddlesticks. Couldn’t they trust you for the coupons? Didn’t you tell them we would give them the coupons tomorrow?”
“They are not allowed to sell things without the coupons.”
“That’s absurd when they’ve known you for years. They know you wouldn’t cheat them.”
“Well, they can’t do that for anybody. Now, I’ll go down and get something for the children to eat, and then you can tell me what you would like.”
“Well, I can tell you now. I want a cup of decent coffee and a good, tender, juicy beefsteak.”
“But, my dear, we can’t get beefsteak or coffee without coupons, or any more butter!”
The little boy began to howl.
“I want some butter!” he protested. “I want some bread and a lot of butter!”
“There isn’t any tonight, Gerald. But maybe I can find some jam down in the cellar. Won’t that do?” asked Lexie brightly.
“No, it won’t,” he roared. “I won’t eat your old jam! I want butter! A lot of it! You’re a bad old aunt, you are, and I don’t like you.”
In despair Lexie went downstairs and concocted the nicest supper she could out of the supply she had bought.
The children came down presently, one at a time. Angelica first. Lexie, hurrying to get everything on the table, heard the child calling, “Hi, Elaine! There’s hard-boiled egg-wheels on the spinach, and the potatoes have their overcoats on.”
And then she heard a howl from Gerald: “I don’t like old spinach! I won’t eat it, even if it has got old egg-wheels on it. I hate spinach. I want beefsteak!”
Lexie took a deep breath. This was going to be an endurance test, it seemed. Oh why, why, why?
“Run up and call the other children, Angel,” she said with a forced smile. “I’m just going to take the omelet up, and it needs to
be eaten while it’s piping hot.”
The little girl gave one eager, hungry look at her aunt’s bright face and hurried upstairs, calling the news about the omelet as she went.
But she came down again soon with a haughty imitation of her mother’s tone.
“Elaine says it’s no use for you to try to stuff spinach down us. We won’t eat it. We never do! And she thinks that’s pretty poor fare for the first meal when your relatives come home. She says we don’t eat spinach nor omelet, and you can’t make us!”
“Oh,” said Lexie cheerfully, “that’s too bad, isn’t it, when we can’t get anything else but what I’ve got here. But of course you don’t have to eat it unless you like. I’m not going to try to stuff it down you. I only thought maybe you were hungry, and since these were the only things I could get for us tonight, you might be glad to have them. But if you don’t want them, that’s all right with me. As soon as I get the dishes washed and everything put away I’ll try and fix a place for you to sleep. If you get to sleep soon I don’t suppose you’ll mind being hungry for tonight.”
Angelica looked at her aunt aghast as she set the puffy brown omelet on the table, put the open dish of bright green spinach with its wheels of yellow and white egg beside it, and then sat down as if she were going to eat it all by herself. Deliberately she helped herself to some of each dish on the table and began to eat with slow, small bites, smiling at the little girl pleasantly. Suddenly Angelica set up a howl: “Come down here quick, Gerry! She’s eating it all up! She’s got a nice dinner all ready and she’s eating it up herself! Hurry up and bring Bluebell down with you. Hurry, or it will all be gone!”
Lexie smiled to herself as she realized that she had conquered for once. Perhaps that was the way to manage them. Let them think you didn’t care whether they ate or not. So she went steadily on eating slow mouthfuls while Angelica fairly danced up and down in a fury.