And then Paul got up from the other side of the fireplace and came out in the hall and looked at them.
"Well, if that isn't Rance Nelius!" he said, his big, hearty voice booming out joyously as he came forward to meet the guest. "Upon my word, how did you get away off here? I thought you lived out in the wild woolly West! And how did you get to know my sister? Say, this is great! I didn't know you were within a thousand miles of here, and I wasn't sure I would ever see you again. Man, this is great!"
"Why, Paul, how did you know Rance Nelius?" asked Sylvia, wide-eyed at the revelation. "I didn't think any of the family would know him, not till he came after me tonight and met Mother and the children."
"Why, a couple of years ago, Syl, when I was football manager, Rance's team came out to play our college. We had a great game, and then when it came time for their team to leave, they found there had been a wreck on the railroad that would make them miss their connections for their train home, so they decided to stay over till morning. We parked the team around among our men, and Rance fell to my lot. We were just starting to get acquainted when he had to leave. I've tried to trace him since, hunted among the football news, even wrote out to your college, Rance, but they told me you had moved away, and they didn't have your address. What became of you, man? My, I'm glad you've turned up at last!"
Rance smiled.
"Why, you see, my whole life was upset shortly after I was with you. My mother was taken quite ill, and we had to go farther west for her sake. And when even that didn't do any good, we went to California for a time. I left college, of course, indefinitely, to be with her during her last days. And after she was gone I came east. I've been here in your university for the past year. I graduate in the spring, two years later than I would if I had gone on from the time you knew me. That explains how I came to know your sister." And a pleasant glance passed between him and Sylvia, almost as if they had been friends of long standing. "But I certainly am glad to see you. I didn't know a soul around here. I never connected you with this city. I thought of you as living somewhere near that college where we met. Of course, I've been rather busy, taking a heavy schedule and doing a little coaching besides."
"Football?" asked Paul. "I don't see why I didn't hear of you."
"No, not football," laughed Rance. "I've grown up since I saw you. I haven't any time for that now, though I used to love it. No, I've been using my brains instead of my brawn lately. But, say, I'm glad I've found you! I've often thought of you but couldn't for the life of me remember your name. No wonder Garland sounded so familiar and pleasant to me when I met your sister! Say, this is great!"
"Where are you living?" asked Paul. "You and I have got to have a good talk. I always felt that one night we had wasn't half long enough. You're in the university dorm, I suppose."
"No," said Rance, "I'm on my own. I have a room in an apartment house. That reminds me that I ought to hurry. I'm supposed to be nurse to a reluctant furnace for the next three nights while the janitor is away getting a holiday at his married daughter's, and I'm under oath to see that the apartments are all comfortably warm both night and day."
"But, say, that's no work for you! That furnace won't go out if you stay a little while longer, will it? It's not awfully late. Come on in and sit down. I want Mother to know you."
"I met your mother when I came for your sister earlier this evening. She's worth knowing. And I'm coming to see her again, if I may."
By this time Fae and Stan were clustered around with shining eyes, and their mother had come to the door.
"Of course, you may come whenever you like," said Mary Garland. "You will be twice as welcome since you are Paul's friend as well as Sylvia's. And I was just wondering. Couldn't you have Christmas dinner with us? I know we would all enjoy it very much. Unless, of course, you have other plans."
Sylvia gasped in pleased surprise, and Rance looked eager.
"No, I haven't any other plans except to get dinner in a restaurant and try to forget that it is Christmas."
"Good!" said Paul. "Then you'll eat with us! That will be swell. And by the way, Mother, I asked Marcia Merrill to come over to dinner, too. I told her you would call her and let her know about what time. Her father and mother have gone down to Florida for a couple of months, and she is staying with the housekeeper and a couple of teachers who are there for company. But they are going to a shindig some of their friends are having, and she was going to be alone, so I asked her. I knew you would, Mother, if you knew."
Mary Garland could always be counted on for a thing like that, and now her eyes lit up pleasantly.
"Why, of course! How nice that will be! We'll have a real house party, and I'm so glad your friend Mr. Nelius is free----"
Rance looked troubled. He couldn't help seeing the half-frightened glances Fae gave to Stan, and the sudden lighting of Stan's face as they both gave Sylvia a quick look. He remembered what Sylvia had told him on the way home and realized there were complications that might make his staying hard for these dear people.
"Your house will be full," he said. "Hadn't I better come some other day than Christmas? I don't want to barge in on your family gathering." His eyes sought Sylvia's for understanding, and she smiled, trying to let him know it would be all right.
"No," said Mary Garland earnestly, "you're not to make that excuse. We want you. We'd love to have you. Now come in and sit down by the fire just a few minutes before you go, and let's get the hour settled. Christmas is a time to have a big gathering of dear friends."
Then Paul joined in and urged, and Fae clapped her hands and said, "Yes, that would be wonderful! And I'm glad Marcia is coming, too. She is nice. She always fits in."
For the moment the coming of Rex and his problematic bride was in the background.
They were still standing in the wide hall, Mary Garland just within the living room doorway. Only Stan's alert boy senses heard the soft creak of wheels in the snow outside as a taxi drew up. Stan gave a startled glance toward his mother, darted a warning at Sylvia and Paul, even with that pleased look of eagerness still on his lips.
Simultaneously with the dim slam of the taxi door came the sound of feet stamping snow outside the door then the rattle and click of a key in the lock.
Paul looked up, startled out of his cheerfulness, and Rance glanced toward the door, giving Sylvia a quick look. Her eyes were toward the door, too, and now she gave Rance a fleeting smile as if to signal him that the time she had been telling him about had come. Then the door swung wide, letting in a gust of wild snowy air and two figures--one tall, one small and slight.
That will be Rex, thought Rance, and he tried to adjust his attitude so that he should not be taken unaware.
Rex lifted a long arm, plucked off his cap, gave it a shake that flicked the snow from it in a shower; tossed back his handsome head and shook it a little to fling the snow from his crisp, dark curly hair; and then cast a quick keen glance over the group at the door. His eyes first lingered on his brother Paul's face, appraising it, then traveled on to the stranger hostilely. Who was this guy barging in on a family scene? It was going to be hard enough without strangers.
But Paul spoke out genially.
"Hello, Rex, you got here at last, didn't you? Took your time, I should say! Mother has been awfully anxious." And then without change of tone, "Rance, this is my brother Rex. You've heard me speak of him. Rex, this is Rance Nelius. I guess you've heard of him before."
Rex was utterly taken off his guard.
"Rance Nelius!" he exclaimed with a sudden flash of interest. "You don't say! Glad to meet you, Mr. Nelius. Paul has had me about worshipping you ever since you played football at the college once." Rex stretched out a long arm and grasped Rance Nelius's hand warmly. "I certainly didn't know we were to have this pleasure!"
Behind Paul, Stan's tense face relaxed, though his watchful eyes were still on the alert. Rance could hear Sylvia draw a quick little catch of breath, as if she were somehow relieved, but he saw tha
t Mary Garland's eyes were still anxious and went beyond the easy figure of her second son to the girl who stood behind him, watchful and belligerent. Rance saw Fae's young hands clutch the pleats in her dress skirt and give a long, unloving look toward the alien girl. Poor little girl! Poor mother! Poor all of them!
The only one who didn't look concerned in the whole group was the alien girl, and she looked angry. She was being ignored, but she didn't intend to stand it long. She stepped up beside Rex and looked at him.
She was very smart looking. They could see that at a glance. And almost pretty, though not according to their standards. Her lips were too red, and her cheeks were not a natural color. Her eyebrows were slender and too high. Her hair was in a long bob, like a page boy of King Arthur's time. It was a sickly gold, dashed with a strange red like nasturtiums, as Paul had said, that gave a weird effect to the whole picture. Her lashes were long and much the same color. She certainly was startling.
She was dressed in a heavy black winter suit--slim skirt and trim jacket banded with gray fur. Her hat was a curious little pillbox affair--a black crown with a band of the fur facing the straight-up brim, and a two-inch strap of the fur around the back of the head over the gold hair holding on the hat. There were gloves, too, quite unusual ones done in black and white with a gauntlet effect. But her eyes were the principal thing. They were long and gray and cold with flecks of steel in their makeup, and when she stepped up and looked at Rex, he seemed almost to wither. Rex! Withering! He didn't seem the type to wither!
"Oh--ah!" he said, stepping back imperceptibly. "Meet my wife----Florimel--everybody!"
Rance Nelius admired the way that Mary Garland arose to the occasion, though he pitied her from the heart. Gently, like a lady born, as she was, she stepped forward to the girl's side.
"Oh," she said sympathetically. "You must be very cold traveling in this awful storm. They tell me it is below zero. And you have no heavy coat! I should think you would have frozen!"
Florimel laughed an ugly little laugh.
"Spare me your sympathy," she clamored out. "We've been in the movies all the evening; I'm not cold. And my coat is outside with the baggage. I didn't think it was worthwhile to bother putting it on; this jacket is warm. But good night, I'm thirsty! Haven't you got something to drink?"
Stan departed kitchenward solemnly, but everybody else was looking in astonishment at the new daughter-in-law.
She was very slim. Even in the thick cloth jacket she seemed to be but a sliver. And her face wore the expression of a naughty child. Rex stood there helplessly looking at her, unable to cope with the situation. He scowled at his new wife as if he didn't quite know what to do with her. As if he had suddenly discovered that she didn't belong in this environment where he had brought her, and he was astonished. He had thought that home was a panacea for all that was wrong, and now he found that it wasn't.
But before anybody could say anything more, and while Rance Nelius was trying to think whether he could help more by staying or going, Stan appeared in the hall with a great crystal goblet, one of the very best set of company goblets, full of clear, cold water. He stood stiffly like a butler before his new sister-in-law, offering it to her.
She turned and looked at it and then at the boy curiously.
"What do you want?" she asked, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"You said you were thirsty. You said you wanted a drink, and I've brought it," said Stan.
The girl looked at Stan as if she could not believe her senses, and then she burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"And you thought I wanted water, you poor boob, did you? Well, if that isn't the very limit for a child your size!" And she went into more uncontrollable peals of laughter.
But nobody else was laughing. They were all very grave. Even Rex was grave and angry looking. His face was red in a great wave.
It was then that Mary Garland stepped quietly up to Stan as he stood there white with anger, wishing with all his heart he dared to throw the contents of that goblet full into the hateful face of Rex's new wife. She put out her hand to take the goblet from him.
"I'll take the water, please, Stan," she said sweetly. "I've been very thirsty for some time."
They stood there while she drank it, every drop, and then handing Stan the goblet, she thanked him again and turned to Sylvia.
"Dear, suppose you take Florimel upstairs to her room. I'm sure she must be very tired."
"Thanks, no!" said Florimel decidedly. "I'll stay down till Rex is ready to go up."
"Oh, very well," said Mary Garland coolly. "Then will you come in and sit down, or would you rather take off your hat first? Sylvia, will you ask Selma to bring some coffee and cakes? I'm sure Mr. Nelius might like some, and I think we all could enjoy them. Rex, find your wife a chair you think she would like. Mr. Nelius, sit there by Paul. I can see he wants to talk to you. Fae, you might run out and help Selma bring in the tray. Stan, pull out the coffee table."
Mary Garland had a way of taking an uncomfortable situation and making it bearable, no matter how twisted it was. Rance Nelius wondered at her calmness. Her children were wondering at her, too. Not that they had ever seen reason to doubt their mother's ability to solve any of their problems, but this was different, and she was managing it with the ease of an angel. Even Rex was impressed and humbled by it. He had come home hoping to show them what a sweet, lovely, smart wife he had found, and now she was no longer sweet nor lovely, and her smartness seemed somehow not to fit into this home environment. He couldn't understand it, and he sat there dumb. He seemed to have stepped off with the wrong foot, when he had been so anxious to have everything all right!
The new member of the family fussed petulantly with her anxious husband about which chair she would occupy, and at last she settled down in a straight-backed chair at the far end of the room from all the rest and sat there staring first at one, then at the other, finally letting her glance rest speculatively on the guest, Rance Nelius. Just who was he, and what relation had he to the rest? There was something about him that made her desire to dominate him, and yet she could see she was not making her usual impression. She was used to making an impression. Rance Nelius's glances were all for Sylvia and her mother, and his understanding smiles went toward everyone but herself.
Finally she turned deliberately and studied Sylvia. Sylvia with no makeup, in a simple dark silk with those gorgeous roses nestling on her shoulder. She decided she was the ingenue type and turned her nose accordingly. Rex had spoken of Sylvia with great fondness and admiration, and Florimel was not prepared to like her.
She turned her attention back to Rance. He looked a cold sort, although he was good-looking, of course. It might be interesting to win him away from Sylvia for a few days, if she was compelled to stay around that long. He wouldn't be hard to seize, she thought. It would make Rex jealous, perhaps, and keep him more thoroughly under her thumb. Maybe she would try it if she got bored.
She didn't look toward Paul. She knew him from her pie shop days and felt it would be wasted time. Paul was indifferent. Probably had some girl he was dead in love with and was too aristocratic to look at a girl who had been a waitress in a restaurant.
But she was no longer a waitress in a restaurant, and she intended to make everyone understand that from now on. She was the wife of a young man who would soon inherit a small fortune. This family probably thought they were something, but she intended to show them that she was more than something. Yet here she sat in the heart of the family, just arrived, a bride, and nobody was paying the slightest attention to her! Even the children were seated near this outsider named Nelius, listening openmouthed to every word he uttered, and her own new husband was eagerly engaged in conversation with him.
And of all things, they were discussing music, apparently. Talking in terms that were to her a foreign tongue. Sylvia, with kindling eagerness in her eyes, was describing a lovely pastoral they had heard that evening, and doing it with ease, the kind of ease
that Florimel did not understand. Bluntness and impudence had always been her forte. She had been trained in the school of the modern world, and not a very cultured one at that. She resented all these people because they did not talk her language. Because they were not blasé and ill-mannered like the young people she admired so much in the movies and dance halls, which she had frequented as often as she could wheedle anyone into taking her there. Of course, Rex himself was a little soft, too, but she had felt that she could train Rex, and he would soon be able to hold his own in her world. But a long stay here wasn't going to help toward her training of him. She meant to get him away just as soon as she could make him pry enough money from this tightfisted family to finance them. Then she could begin. But it was going to be a terrible bore to stay here even a few days.
She didn't pull off her gloves at once. She didn't want them to see that she was sporting no diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand, just a plain little cheap gold band like his mother's wedding ring. He had bought it at a little hick town on the way and insisted on her wearing it for the time being, at least till he could afford to get her another. By the way, she must keep that in mind, in Rex's mind, and have him get her some good rings the first thing after Christmas!
Her thoughts were rambling on in this way, as she idly studied the room, taking in the old-fashioned furniture, not even knowing enough to recognize that some of it was so old it was almost priceless.
Then the trays were brought in, the coffee was passed, and the talk became more general.
Mary Garland tried to draw her daughter-in-law into the conversation with little pleasant nothings, but Florimel remained rudely hostile.
"No, we didn't have a hard drive," she said definitely. "We started yesterday morning. We stopped several places on the way, places where I had friends. I had another place I wanted to stay over Sunday, but Rex was determined to get here, so we finally came."