"Rex, dear boy," she said, putting a loving arm around him, "I am thoroughly in sympathy with your idea, and there'll be a way for you to do it. Don't worry about Florimel. Perhaps you can make her see that it is for the good of you both in the end. But remember that she's been through an awful experience, and don't be too hard on her. Perhaps even yet she may change."
"No, Moms, she won't change. She just wants to be ornery, that's all. But I'm glad you thought it was all right. I want to know you approve of what I do. I don't suppose you'll ever forgive me for having got married this way. I'm sure I'll never forgive myself. It's pretty tough to have to take the consequences, but I guess I had all this coming to me. I should have known better, brought up by such a wonderful woman as you are and with my splendid sister and her friends. I knew girls like Marcia and Natalie all my life, and yet I got fooled by a girl like this! When I think about that, I can't think of any punishment too bad for me. I deserved it. I want you to know that I think so, Moms."
"Dear boy!" Mary Garland stooped and kissed her boy's forehead. "Perhaps after a time you'll find out that what you have gained will be worth all the pain. To have found out that about yourself is worth a great deal. You know what the Bible says about chastening: 'Afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness.'"
Rex shook his head.
"I don't think there'll be any such afterward for me," he said desolately. "I'll never have any fruit of righteousness. There won't be a chance. I've just naturally ruined my life, and that's all. There'll be no afterward down here for me. I'll even be ashamed to show my face in heaven!" And he dropped his face in his hands and groaned aloud.
"Son, there is always an afterward, and the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin!"
Rex crept to his bed in his old room where he had been staying ever since the fire, comforted somewhat, glad that at least his mother understood and wanted to help.
Florimel got up the next morning and began her program of doing as she pleased, although anybody might wonder what else she had been doing ever since she had been in the house.
She ate her breakfast, and as soon as the family were away to school and college and Mary Garland had gone to attend an all-day missionary meeting, she went to the telephone and did a lot of ordering. From the newspapers and the telephone book she got her numbers, and the very first thing she ordered was a case of champagne and a carton of fine-grade cigarettes. Then she called up a big department store where she had heard the family say they had a charge account, and ordered, from the newspaper advertisements, a new spring suit and the outlandish little perky hat that went with it, a couple of handbags, a handsome suitcase, six pairs of gloves, some lingerie, and several ashtrays. She had them all charged and sent to her mother-in-law. Then she settled down to a movie magazine.
The first order that arrived was the champagne, and it came while they were at lunch. Only Fae and her mother were there with Florimel. Stan and Sylvia had telephoned they would have lunch at their schools. There was the sound of an altercation in the kitchen, Selma contending with some deliveryman, and then she came to the door.
"Please, Mrs. Garland, would you step in here a minute?" she said, in what was meant to be a whisper.
"What is it, Selma? That soap I bought off that man? I thought he needed helping."
"No, Mrs. Garland," said Selma dismally, "it's a case of champagne! And I told him you never bought such things. I told him it must be a mistake, but he insisted I should come and tell you. He said it was no mistake, that he had the order with the number written plain."
"Tell him, Selma, that we did not order that champagne. We never order liquor, and we do not intend to pay for it."
"Oh, heaven!" laughed Florimel. "What's the fuss about nothing? I ordered that champagne, and I wanted it. Do you begrudge me that? You order all sorts of things for me to eat, I thought I might have something I wanted for once! Are you such a tightwad that you can't get me a little champagne?"
"You ordered it, Florimel?" said Mary Garland in amazement. "But it is charged to me!"
"Why, sure! You knew I didn't have any charge accounts of my own. You wouldn't fix it so I had any money to buy things with, so I had them charged to you."
Mary Garland's face suddenly froze into stern disapproval.
"I have no charge accounts with liquor dealers," she said, "and they certainly must know that!"
She arose and went into the kitchen, and they could hear her voice speaking very decidedly.
"This is a mistake. I ordered no liquor, and I do not want it. You will have to take it away."
"Well, I like that!" said Florimel contemptuously. "I wanted a drink of champagne tonight. I don't see what right you had to send back what I bought. If Rex can't get his money out of you one way, I can another."
"No," said Mary Garland firmly, "you can get no money out of me for liquor. You may as well understand that at once."
"Oh, very well," said Florimel airily. "If you prefer to have me go downtown and drink it there, I can do that, of course, but I might drink too much and then that might be embarrassing to you."
"As you please," said Mary Garland coldly.
So the next day Florimel went down to the leading hotel in the city and after her lunch kept ordering more and more drinks on some money she had put by for a time of necessity. Then after staggering around the street noisily for a time, she was brought home in a taxi, having no money left to pay for her taxi fare. Mrs. Garland was out for a few minutes, and poor little Fae had to go to her small purse and get out her own cherished money she was saving to get her mother a birthday gift.
The rest of Florimel's purchases of the day before had arrived while she was away. Mrs. Garland, puzzled at the packages that she had not bought, opened each one and went to interview her daughter-in-law but found her too drunk to explain more than to say, "Didn't I tell ya I'd get the money outta ya somehow?"
Mary Garland went back to her room and wrapped up those packages to be returned, gave orders to the various department stores to close her accounts with them for any order until further notice. But, ignorant of that, the next day Florimel came down in high feather, considering herself to have scored a victory with her mother-in-law.
"Where are my ashtrays that I bought yesterday?" she demanded. "I need one."
Mary Garland looked up from the paper she was reading.
"I have sent Stan down to return all the things that you ordered," she said calmly. "You simply cannot buy things on my charge accounts. I have given orders that such service shall be suspended. Now, I think perhaps we had better have a further understanding. It would seem that you have started to carry out your threats against the family, so I have sent for our family lawyer to explain the business situation to you. Then perhaps you will understand that it is not meanness on my part that makes me unwilling to finance Rex in life at this time. You will see that it was a wise and far-seeing father who made all the arrangements, and as it is fixed I have no choice in the matter. My husband explained to me before he died what he was doing and that he was doing it for the boys' best good. You have not found Paul making any protest against it. You will not find that Rex feels it unfair. But I am sure when you understand that everything you have while you and Rex are here is a free gift from me, you may not feel that I am as tightfisted as you have been proclaiming. Now, here comes Mr. Graham, and he will explain to you."
Florimel had been so engaged in considering what sharp answer she could give to Rex's mother that she had not heard the doorbell ring and did not realize that the enemy was upon her, until Mr. Graham, the dignified lawyer, walked into the room and was introduced. She gave him a sullen look and favored him with one of her hard stares, which virtually said, "You can't put anything over on me!" and was amazed when her look had no effect whatever upon this great man of the world.
"Mrs. Garland, I understand that you have been inquiring as to your husband's financial standing, so I have brought the full papers and will read
them to you. Of course, it is a little irregular for a wife to concern herself with such matters. It should rather be your husband who should be told the whole thing first, but as the circumstances are a little peculiar, your husband being not yet of age and not having reached the time when he would be required by law to have the whole matter put before him, I have acceded to Mrs. Garland's request and brought the papers here to read to you, that you may fully understand just how little he has until the time of his legal age arrives. Here, first, is the will--" And Mr. Graham unfolded a large legal document and began to read.
Florimel listened with her ever-widening gaze to the long, important legal terms, until as it went on she began to understand that it was not just a jealous mother's whim that Mary Garland was acting upon, but that they were all up against a great wall of law that had the authority of the land behind it, something a mere girl could not dare to meddle with.
She listened, trying to catch phrases and fathom their meaning, trying to store them away in her memory for future repetition. When the reading was over and Mr. Graham began to fold the papers and put them away in his briefcase, she tossed her head and remarked, "Well, I've got a lawyer friend that's smart. He knows all the tricks and can get almost anybody into a corner with all the ways he knows. If I sent for him and bring him down to see you, would you read all that stuff to him so he could maybe find a way out for my husband?" She eyed the great lawyer, not with contempt but with the assurance of one who felt she could beat him at his own game.
Mr. Graham looked at her keenly a moment, half smiled, and then answered, still courteously, "Why, certainly. If your husband consents to such a proceeding, I could not object. You must always remember that this inheritance is your husband's, not yours, and that he would have the final word about it. It could not be done without his knowledge."
Then the lawyer bowed himself out, and Florimel was free to go upstairs and think it over.
Mary Garland went out soon after that for a few minutes on an errand, and when she returned, she came around to the kitchen door because she wanted to speak to the grocery boy whose car was standing there. So it happened that she entered the house by the kitchen door instead of the front one and went straight upstairs to her room. As she started out into the hall later she heard a voice downstairs, loud, strident, talking and laughing immoderately. She paused a moment, wondering who Florimel was talking with. Was she down at the lower hall telephone, or could some caller have come to see her?
That morning Florimel had received a special delivery letter quite early, before breakfast, and Fae had taken it to her door before she left for school. Perhaps some of her old friends had called to see her and the letter had been announcing the arrival. If so, should she invite them to lunch? Probably that would be expected. She hesitated a moment, and then came Florimel's voice once more.
"Oh, the old girl has gone to the market or to some missionary meeting or something. No, she's not here now. No one in the house but the cook, and she's rattling dishes in the kitchen. That's why I called you now. I thought you oughtta know a few things. Sure I got your letter, and I knew what you mean. I'm glad you got out so soon. I thought you had another month yet to do. But, say, that's fine. Only I thought you oughtta know that that alimony business we thought we could pull is all off. There wouldn't be enough to pay thirty a week even if he was of age, which he won't be for another two and a half years yet, and then he hasta wait another heck of a time till another amount is due. It really wouldn't be worth the risk to try and wait for that. Anyway, he isn't so rich as we were told, and if you'd live in this house for a few weeks, you'd find out there wasn't much chance of putting anything over on these wise guys. They know too much, and they don't go on the same principles as the rest of us do. They're religious, and you havta walk their way if you wanta get on with them. Besides, Rex isn't the same since he came home. He doesn't trust me anymore, and I can't put a thing over on him. I think I'd better clear out. I'm perishing for a drink and a few shows and dances. Where? Oh! All right, only let me know before two o'clock when the whole gang comes home from school and I can't get the telephone without somebody hearing. Say, Jeff, I'm fed up with this life. Let's think up a new plan. What? Really? D'ya mean it? Oh boy! When? Yes. Where? Okay, I'll be there. Wait! There's the doorbell. I gotta quit, but I'll be there, darling!"
Then the receiver was hung up with a sharp click, and Mary Garland, realizing that she had been listening to a conversation that might mean a great deal, beat a quiet and hasty retreat into her room and closed the door, locked it, and knelt down.
"Oh, God, what is it? Is it something I should understand? But I don't, and now what shall I do? Anything?"
Long after, she knelt there praying for her boy. Praying now and then for the girl who seemed so utterly unworthy of him, so involved in all sorts of deceits and worldliness. Almost it seemed to her it must be a world of crime to which she belonged. And yet, was that fair to judge her by that brief conversation, which she ought not to have heard at all?
"Oh, Lord," she prayed, "I can't do anything. I don't know what to do. Wilt Thou take charge of this matter and work it out for us all in Thy way? Thy will be done!"
So all day as Mary Garland went about her duties, watching meanwhile the mysterious daughter-in-law to see what would develop next and whether there was anything for her to do to prevent disaster, her heart was praying, praying.
But all day Florimel went on with her idle, listless life. Apparently there were no more phone calls, and Florimel did not appear to intend to go out that day. She stayed in her room except at lunchtime when she ate silently and sullenly as usual.
And then when it was almost time for Rex to return from his work, she went to her room to freshen up for the evening meal.
Mrs. Garland could hear the children coming in. They had all been to a basketball game and were chattering about what this one and that one did. Now if Rex were only a boy again, one of them, coming home as eager as them all. Or, oh, if he were even a happily married man with a simple, pleasant life to live, a comfortable evening before him with a wife who loved him and would bring him honor, how very glad she would be. If only he had some dear, sweet, helpful girl like----but, no, she must not even think such a thought. God was going to order this affair, and perhaps someday she could look back and be glad for Florimel. Was that possible? Oh, she had so wanted them all to be a good influence for this new girl. This girl who had come among them under such unforeseen circumstances. She had so hoped they might lead her to Christ, if she was not already a Christian. And they hadn't even been able to make her respect themselves, or their God, it seemed.
Then came Rex. She could hear him walking slowly up the stairs as if he were tired. His steps dragged toward Florimel's door, not as if they loved to go there. Poor Rex! Poor foolish, impulsive boy! He was walking as if he had grown suddenly old.
But in a moment she heard him coming back and toward her door.
"Mother!" he called. "Where are you?" Excitedly he rushed in. "Where is Florimel? Where has she gone?"
"Why, she was here a few minutes ago. I thought she was in her room. I heard her walking around when I came here to dress. That was just twenty minutes ago. She's been around all day."
"But she isn't there!" he said with a startled look on his face, and she noticed his sudden pallor. Could it be that he still cared for her?
"Oh, Mother, what can she have done now?"
"Done?" said his mother. "Nonsense, she probably hasn't done anything. She's very likely downstairs reading the paper in the living room."
"No!" said Rex. "The girls are there with Stan trying over a song by the piano. She isn't there. Mother, she's gone!"
"Oh, but that's not possible!" said his mother sharply with a sudden memory of that strange telephone conversation to part of which she had been an unwilling listener. "Come! We'll go and find her!"
"But she's not there, Mother! I looked! She's gone, and all her things are gone! I tell you she's go
ne! Now what will she do next? Oh, Mother, if you could only cast me out and forget me! If only our friends need not know all this awfulness! Why couldn't I have died when Dad did, before I did all this to you?"
"Hush, Rex! You don't want to frighten your sisters!"
His answer was a groan.
They went to the room that Florimel had been occupying and found it even as Rex had said--all her clothes were gone, all her trifling trinkets. Her two suitcases were gone. Everything!
And then they found the note stuck into the mirror frame addressed to Rex in her wide, uncultured hand.
Dear Rex,
I've gone! I couldn't stand for the life we've been living. And anyway, Jeff got out, and I've gone back to him! He's the one I told you I was afraid of, but I was only afraid for fear I'd get in the jug, too, because I was with him when he got caught. He hasn't done all his time. I don't know how he got out so soon, but anyway, he was sweet and we get on better than you and I did. You were darling at first, till you got back to your beastly religious family, but I think I'm better off with Jeff. There's always some excitement around him, and I don't have to go on the sly to get a drink or smoke. So good-bye and live happy ever after, only next time be sure you don't go to a fake minister to get married! The joke's on you! If you were rich as I thought you were, I would have demanded alimony, but it isn't worth the trouble, so I'm clearing out, and you can go back to your precious college and graduate. Ta-ta!
Yours,
Florimel!
P. S. It's no use to hunt us for we have a hiding place where you'd never think to look, and such as you would never come out alive!
Rex dropped down on the edge of the bed and looked up from the letter in his hand. Slowly a great light was dawning in his tired, young face.
"Oh, Mother!" he said dazedly. "She's gone! She's gone with someone else. She never really belonged to me. She belonged with someone else first. Oh, God has been good! It took a terrible thing like this to show me I was a sinner, I guess, for now I realize I thought I was a pretty good sort. But God has let me find all that out and ruin my life, just so He could save me. And now He's taken her away!" His voice trembled with relief.