Читать книгу Through These Fires (Musaicum Romance Classics) - Grace Livingston Hill - Страница 4

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They were fighting a war, out across the ocean. Well, she was fighting a war with herself at home. With herself? No, maybe it wasn't with herself. Maybe it was something that affected the world—that is, a little piece of it. It might even be important to the world how she took this added burden that had come upon her. Could that be possible? From God's standpoint, perhaps.

So Lexie thought to herself as she went about swiftly putting Elaine's old room to rights, enough to rights to make a place for her to lie down when she arrived. Of course she would do her best to make her see how impossible it would be for her to stay, but there had to be a place for her to lie down.

Hastily she made up the bed with such things as she had been able to find in the attic without unpacking too many boxes. She wanted Elaine to realize how inconvenient her coming in this sudden way had been for her. And yet all the time as she thought it she knew Elaine wouldn't realize. Elaine would just take it for granted that it was her due to be served and would probably growl at the service, too, considering it inadequate.

She drew a deep sigh and wished with all her heart that the telegram had not arrived until she had left for college. Perhaps Elaine would have been discouraged then and gone back west. Still, of course she wouldn't. Elaine wasn't made that way. Elaine demanded service, and if it wasn't on hand where she chose to be, she turned heaven and earth until it came. Oh, why did this have to come to her after all the other hard things she had been through? Other girls had normal lives with pleasant families and nobody much to torment them. And here she was saddled not only with her unpleasant sister but also her three unknown children who would probably be as unpleasant as their parent, poor little things! And she couldn't stand it! No, she couldn't! How could a young girl only twenty, with her own way to make and her college finals just at hand, be expected to take over and bring up a family of three children, to say nothing of their mother, who probably by this time was posing as a hopeless invalid and doing it so prettily that everybody else would pity her?

But there was no use thinking such bitter thoughts. Whatever else her sister was not, she certainly was in trouble enough now with her husband as good as dead, for that was what "missing in action" usually meant. And if she really loved him, as she said she did, it was hard of course. Although it was hard for Lexie to believe that Elaine really loved anybody but herself.

It was perhaps fortunate for Lexie's firm resolves to be frank with Elaine and make her understand how hard she was making things, that there was very little time to relent. For Lexie's sweet temper and natural generosity were apt to make her softhearted, and if there had been a great deal of time to prepare for her unwelcome guest, she might in spite of herself have done much to make the house look homelike and livable again. But there was not much time, and there were limitations due to the fact that most of the pleasant furnishings and treasured things of the family were securely packed and locked away. It would take time to unpack, air, and put them about in their places again. That would hardly be worthwhile if Elaine was only to be there a few hours, or at most a few days. Perhaps if she was really sick she ought to go to a hospital. Although Elaine always hated the very name of hospital and refused to be sent to one, she had been there when her children were born, and perhaps had got over her foolish ideas of prejudice against it. But if she went to the hospital, what would become of the three children? Because, of course, no hospital would allow them to come when they were not sick. And there was no one, no relative, who could be called in to look after them. It would just mean that she, Lexie, would have to stay with them, and she couldn't do that. She must go back to college! For economy's sake if for nothing else, she must finish her course and get her job!

And there she would pause and sit down in despair. Oh, why, why did this thing have to come to her just at this time when she was putting every bit of nerve and energy into an attempt to finish her course with honor and at least a degree of excellence?

This question was still beating itself back and forth in Lexie's heart when at last she realized that it was time for the travelers to arrive, and there was nothing she could do about it but wait.

But as time went on and nothing happened, Lexie was frantic. She decided to run down to the drugstore and telephone to that Traveler's Aid again. If she didn't get her now she would be gone, relieved by the night operator, and they might not be able to tell her anything. So closing the door and slipping the key under the old cocoa mat where they used to hide it when they were children, she hurried down the street and telephoned.

It was some time before she succeeded in getting the Traveler's Aid and discovered that the shift had already changed and another woman was on duty. The other woman, however, could give her a little information from their record. Yes, the train had been met, the family was on board, and their representative had put them in a very good taxi. The lady had insisted on a comfortable one. It cost a little more, but she said she didn't care, and they were started off soon after arriving. "The nurse who was with them," added the woman, "seemed unwilling to remain with the case. She said she felt she had made a mistake coming, was homesick, and wanted to return west on the next train. We finally persuaded her to stay with the lady until she reached her destination, but she said she wanted you notified to get another nurse at once, as she was returning to the city with the taxi. She never expected to have to look after three children as well as a helpless patient. If we had known how to reach you we would have phoned, but they said you had no telephone. We thought you ought to know. Somebody will have to look after the lady. She seemed quite helpless."

Lexie's heart sank as she thanked the woman and hung up the receiver. So! The atmosphere was growing blacker and blacker. Now what was she to do? Would she have to look after Elaine herself? She groaned in spirit and hurried back to the house, but as she opened the white gate she sighted a taxi coming down the road. They had come, and the fight was on! It was going to be bad, but she had to go through it somehow.

And then the taxi stopped before the door, and three children descended in a body and stared at her and the house.

"Is that the house?" asked a supercilious girl of seven, with a sneer on her lips and a frown on her brow. "Good night! That's not a house, that's a dump! What did you bring us here for, Elaine? We can't live in a tiny little place like that!"

Then a boy of five blared out hatefully: "It's not a house, it's a dump! I ain't a-gonta live in a dump like that! Jeepers! You can't do that to me!"

And a little girl of three began to cry and bawl out, "I wantta go home! I won't stay here! You're mean to bring us here!"

"Shut up!" said the woman Lexie supposed was the nurse. "Don't you know your mother's sick?"

"I don't care ‘f she is," roared the boy. "She hadn't ought to uv brought us here, an' I ain't a-gonta stay, so there!"

Two of the neighbors who lived in houses across the street came curiously out to their doors and looked at the arrivals in amazement. Then seeing Lexie coming out to the gate hurriedly, they decided that these must be her new tenants and beat a hasty retreat indoors again, probably with sinking hearts at the prospect of such loudmouthed children for neighbors.

But Lexie went quickly to the side of the taxi where her sister still lay back among pillows, wanly, and tried to manage a welcoming smile for her.

"My dear!" she said, hoping her voice sounded cordial, at least to the nurse. "I was so sorry that I couldn't manage to meet you in the city—"

"Yes?" said Elaine in her coldest, haughtiest tone. "I was, too. Such a jaunt as I've had coming out! I should think you might at least have managed to send some neighbor. Mr. Brotherton I'm sure would have been glad to come after me if you had asked him, but I know you never did like him. I couldn't understand why—" complained the sweet, drawling voice.

"Sorry, Elaine, but Mr. Brotherton has moved away. Gone to Washington, doing something in a war job."

"The very idea!" said Elaine, as if this was somehow her sister's fault. "Well, then, why didn't you ask Mr. Wilson, or Mr. Jackson? Their cars are old and shabby I suppose, but they would have done in a pinch."

"Mr. Wilson's car has been sold," said Lexie coldly. "They couldn't afford to run it any longer in the present state of gas and tires, and Mr. Jackson works in a defense plant in the city and takes a lot of other workers with him to the plant in his car every morning. He doesn't return till 6 o'clock. And there isn't any other available car in the neighborhood. I'm sorry you had an uncomfortable ride, but now, I guess we should make some arrangements before you get out. You know, your telegram just caught me as I was about to leave for college, and I have the house all ready for renting, in case a tenant comes while I am gone. Things aren't very livable here, and I thought you might not care to stay. A great deal of the furniture is stored in the attic. I didn't know if you would want to go to a hotel in the city till you could make further arrangements."

Lexie was talking fast, trying to get her ideas across before Elaine could interrupt. There was a shadow in her troubled eyes as she studied Elaine's face. Elaine did look white and drawn. There were dark circles under her eyes, too, and the old petulant pout to her lips grew into a decided sneer as she looked her sister down.

"But you can't do that!" she said in her high, angry voice. "Rent the house! Want an idea! It's my home as well as yours, isn't it? You didn't ask my permission to rent it. Of course you couldn't get enough rent for this little dump away out here in the country anyway, to make it pay. Not enough for me to consent. After it was divided between us it would be nothing. And it will shelter us anyway. No, certainly not! I won't consent to renting! I'm going to stay right here and look into my father's affairs. I'm quite sure there was some money left to me, if your mother didn't use it up sending you in luxury to an expensive college! It's high time I looked after things!"

Lexie's lips set firmly in a thin line, and two spots of angry color flew into her pale cheeks. But she couldn't stand here and fight, with this strange nurse and the taxi driver looking on. Besides the neighbors were coming back to their front doors to see what it was all about. Lexie took a deep breath and summoned her courage.

"Very well," she said quietly. "Suppose we get you into the house then. I fixed a bed for you to lie down on in your old room. Can we get you upstairs?"

"No," said Elaine crossly, "I'm not able to walk upstairs. Not unless the driver would carry me up."

"No ma'am," spoke up the driver sharply. "I'm not allowed to stop long enough to do anything like that. Not unless you wantta pay me five dollars extra."

"Oh dear! The idea! Well, what's the matter with the downstairs sitting room, Lexie? That was always a pleasant room anyway, and handier for carrying my meals, too."

"Oh," gasped Lexie. "Why, there isn't anything in it. No bed. No furniture at all! It would take some time to get a bed downstairs and set it up. I don't believe I would be able to do that by myself either."

"No furniture! How ridiculous! What have you done with the furniture? I hope you didn't have the temerity to sell any of it. I intend to pick out what I want of it first before that happens. You know it was all my father's anyway."

"Oh no," said Lexie. "Some of it was Mother's. She used to tell me about the old rocking chair and bureau that were her grandmother's, and there were several things that I bought myself with the first money I earned. But I guess we won't fight over that." Lexie ended with a fleeting smile. "We must get you in and comfortable first, and then perhaps you would like me to send for a doctor, would you?"

"Certainly not! I don't want any little one-horse doctor from this dinky town. I'm under a noted specialist, you know, and I'll have to contact someone in the city whom my doctor recommends. But I suppose if you have let things get into this barren state I'll have to do the best I can for to-night. I suppose I'll have to try to get up the stairs with the help of the driver and the nurse. Nurse, you carry my wraps and pillows up first and make it comfortable for me, and then when you come down we'll go up slowly. Perhaps it won't be so impossible."

"Well, if you hurry I'll help you up," said the nurse grimly, "but then I'm done. And I'll thank you to pay me what you promised for bringing you over."

"Oh, dear me! How tiresome! What kind of a nurse are you anyway, talking that way to an invalid? Of course you'll get paid. My sister will look after all that. I've spent every cent I had when I started. Lexie, will you attend to this, and get enough for the driver, too? How much was it, driver? Five dollars, did you say?"

"No, lady, it was seven dollars and a half."

"But I'm sure you said five. I distinctly remember you said five."

"Look here, lady. My car registers the miles, see? And I havta go by the meter. I gave you the slip. It's seven dollars and a half. I told ya before we started I couldn't say just how much it would be till I saw how many miles it was, and you, lady, you didn't know! You just said it wasn't far."

"Oh dear! How tiresome you are! Lexie, get five dollars for him. He'll have to be satisfied with that or nothing. And Lexie, get about twenty more. I'll have to pay the nurse for some things she bought for me on the way, and the meals we had on the train. How much was it in all? I have the memorandum here somewhere. Hurry, Lexie, and let's get this thing over and get me to bed as quickly as possible. I feel as if I might be going to faint again. All this discussion is bad for me. Won't you get the money quickly?"

Lexie was looking aghast.

"I'm sorry, Elaine. I just haven't got that much money. I had only about three or four dollars left when I got my ticket paid for."

"Oh, that's all right, Lexie, run in the house and make out a check. Make two, one for the driver and one for the nurse. Here! Here's the nurse's bill. Add ten to it for her trouble on the way."

Great trouble descended upon Lexie.

"I'm sorry, Elaine, but I haven't got my checkbook here. I left it at college. You know, I only came up for a couple of days to get the house in order to rent. The agent wrote me that he thought he had a tenant, and I knew this was the only time I could get away from my classes to do this work, so I came in a great rush and brought very little baggage. Just an overnight bag. So I have no checkbook."

"Well, but surely you can find an old checkbook around the house somewhere. Go look in your old desk. Or go borrow a blank check from the neighbors."

"No," said Lexie positively. "I have no money in our local bank here. My account is in the bank at college town. I'm sorry, but remember I didn't know you were even coming. In fact, Elaine, I haven't very much money left, not even in the bank. It has cost a good deal for the last days of college."

"Oh yes?" said the sister with a hateful inflection in her tone. "Of course you'll say that. Well, what has become of the money? I know there was a whole lot saved up for our college courses, and half of that was mine, you know. Suppose you hand that over. That ought to be plenty to pay these two, and get rid of them."

"I'm sorry, Elaine, but the money that was for our college courses was only what my mother had saved from her own salary in the job where she worked as long as her health allowed, and there was only enough left to bury her."

"Oh really! You must have had some funeral! I suppose you bought a plot in the most expensive part of the cemetery, and ordered the handsomest casket on the list!"

Sudden tears sprang into Lexie's eyes as she remember the plain simple casket, the cheapest thing that could be had, that had been her mother's choice in the few words of direction she had left behind her.

"No!" she said, choking down a sob and shaking her head with a quick, gasping motion. "It wasn't like that! Oh, please don't, Elaine! She loved you and did her best for you. She had no show nor expense at her going. If you had chosen to come, you would have seen. You would have been ashamed to say what you have just said."

"There! I thought you would find fault with me for not coming to her funeral! But I tell you I was too sick to travel, and it happened that I had no one to leave my children with. My husband was gone to war, and I was alone. You don't seem to care what my situation was."

"Don't, Elaine, please. I'm not finding fault with you, and of course I know you were sick. Now let's end this useless talk and get you into the house and try to make you as comfortable as possible. Remember, you hired these people, and if a check will satisfy them it's you who will have to give it."

Lexie turned and ran up the walk into the house, thankful to have her sudden rush of tears hidden for the moment. But she found to her dismay that she was not alone in the house. The children, unobserved for the time, had taken full possession. The oldest girl was ransacking the bookcase, pulling out armful after armful of Lexie's cherished books and casting them hit-or-miss about the floor, some halfway open, some tumbled in a heap with their pages turned in messily, some piled crookedly.

The little boy had placed a stool before a table that he had shoved against the fireplace. Then he had climbed to the top of the table to investigate the clock that stood on the mantel. As Lexie arrived in the room he was about to pull off the hands of the clock, and crowing as he did it.

The youngest girl was seated in the dining room calmly eating up the cold scrambled eggs and bread and butter that Lexie had arranged for her own hurried lunch. She could see her through the doorway, and was only thankful that she was harmlessly occupied for the moment. She made a dash for the boy on the table, put firm hands about his tough young wrists, holding them so tightly that he was forced to let go of the frail clock hands, and then she swept him from the table and swung him around to plant his feet on the floor. He set up the most unearthly howl she had ever heard from the lips of a child, and promptly started his stubby young toes to kicking her shins most unmercifully.

For answer she reached down and enfolded him in a grip such as he had seldom encountered. Lexie was indignant enough to hold even that fierce young animal quiet for the moment.

"You lemme alone!" he shrieked, and his voice rang out to the mother and nurse and driver in the taxi—and beyond to the whole neighborhood.

"Stop!" said Lexie in a low, tense voice. "Stop, do you hear me! If you don't stop this instant I shall spank you."

"You shan't spank me. You ain't my mother. She never spanks me! You couldn't spank me. I dare y' to!"

Lexie bore down upon him again, taking him by surprise, turned him firmly around and laid several smart spanks on the young bare legs below the abbreviated trousers. Sharp, stinging slaps they were, cutting into the soft young flesh and bringing quick color to the surface.

The older girl suddenly rose from her literary pursuits and went over to her brother. She lifted her skinny little fists and struck at Lexie's face, an ineffectual blow.

"You stop that! You just let my brother alone!" she shrieked. "Don't you dare touch my brother. My mother'll kill you if you lay a hand on my brother. My mother don't believe in spankings. You stop, or I'll bite you!" and she sprang at Lexie's wrist. But Lexie drew back just in time and administered a sharp slap on the little girl's open mouth, which sent the child roaring out to her mother, with great, angry tears rolling heavily down her thin little face.

This was a bad beginning, but Lexie knew that she must take her stand, right at the start, if she had to live with children like this, and she couldn't have them wrecking everything in the house just in the first few minutes, whether they stayed or not.

"Now," she said as she drew a deep breath and tried to stop trembling, and to talk gently but firmly. "You can sit there and think about what you have done. You're not going to be allowed to break things here! You've got to act like a little gentleman if you want to be treated like one. Otherwise I shall spank you. I won't have this kind of thing going on. If you behave yourself we can have a pleasant time together, and there will be things you will enjoy, but if you act like a naughty boy you'll have to be treated like one."

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?