Читать книгу Through These Fires (Musaicum Romance Classics) - Grace Livingston Hill - Страница 5

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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 was 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 to-morrow. 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 to-night.

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 to-morrow?"

"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 to-night, 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 to-night, 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 to-night."

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.

"Gerald! Ger-a-l-d! Come quick! She's eating it all up from us, and I'm h-o-n-g-r-y!"

"Oh," said Lexie pleasantly. "Would you like to have some dinner? Suppose you sit down here beside me. What would you like to have?"

"I want some of that puffy om-let!" announced Angelica, slamming herself into the chair indicated. "And I want some of that nice green stuff with yellow wheels on it."

Lexie put a small amount of spinach on the child's plate, with a slice of lovely hard-boiled egg on the top, and beside it a helping of beautifully browned omelet. The little girl lost no time in sampling the food.

"It's good!" she screamed. Gerald, who suddenly had appeared in the doorway with Bluebell by the hand, looked on jealously.

Lexie paid no attention to him until he came closer to the table.

"I want some!" he announced.

"Oh, do you?" said Lexie calmly. "Well, sit down on this other side, and I'll put a big book on a chair for the baby."

Amazingly, they were finally seated, eating with zest.

"I want some more," said Angelica, handing out her plate. "I want some milk, too. You've got milk."

"Why, of course. You can all have milk!" said Lexie, filling a glass for each one.

At last without any coaxing they ate, heartily, eagerly, and asked for more.

When the spinach and potatoes were all gone, except for the small portion she had kept in the warming oven for Elaine in case she would deign to eat it, Lexie brought out a generous plate of cookies and a pear apiece, and the children by this time were almost appreciative.

"Say, these cookies are good," said Angelica, setting the pace for the others. "They've got good raisins in them."

"I don't like cookies," said Gerald. "I'druther have chocolate cake."

"Well, that's too bad," said Lexie sympathetically. "Sorry we haven't any chocolate cake. You don't need to eat cookies if you don't like them," and she drew the plate back and did not pass it to him.

Gerald's reply was to rise up on his chair and reach out for the plate, knocking over Bluebell's glass of milk and sending a stream of milk over the table.

"I will so have some cookies! You can't keep me from having some!" declared the obstreperous child. "You just want to keep them all for yourself, but you shan't."

Lexie, rescuing the glass of milk before the entire contents were broadcast, said gently: "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want some? I understood you to say you didn't like them." She lifted the cookie plate before Gerald succeeded in plunging a willful hand into its midst. "Sit down, Gerald, and I'll pass them to you."

Gerald settled back astonished, about to howl but thought better of it, and soon had his mouth stuffed full of so much cookie he couldn't speak.

When that meal was concluded Lexie felt as if she had fought a battle, but she felt reasonably satisfied with the result. The children were still munching cookies and demanding more pears, and Bluebell was nodding with sleep in her chair. Lexie hadn't eaten much except those first few decoy mouthfuls, but she drank a little milk and hurried upstairs with the tray for Elaine. She was greeted as she entered the room by sounds of heartrending sobs, and Elaine turned a woebegone face to meet her.

"So you did decide to bring me something at last, did you? Of course I am only an uninteresting invalid, and it doesn't matter if I starve, but you certainly might have brought me a crust of bread."

"Well, I'm sorry, Elaine," said Lexie with a sudden, quick sigh. "I thought you would want the children fed first. And I'm not altogether sure you'll like what I've brought, but it was all I could get to-night. Toast and jam, a glass of milk. It isn't bad if you'd try it. I made a little new omelet for you, too, so it would come to you hot. Of course, it isn't the beefsteak you wanted, but I'm afraid from all I hear, that you won't get much of that these days."

Elaine surveyed the tray with dissatisfaction and was about to discount everything on it, but Lexie spoke first.

"Now I'll go and see if I can find some blankets and things to make up beds for the children. They are dropping over with weariness. If you need anything, send Angelica up to the attic after me," and she quickly retired from the room before her sister had time to say anything more. But when she came down, every crumb and drop was gone from the tray, and Elaine had retired to her pillow to prepare for another weeping spell.

"Did you contact my lawyer?" she asked sharply.

"Oh no, of course not. I hadn't time. I knew you all would have to have some supper. Now, do you want Bluebell to sleep with you?"

"Heavens no! Do you think I could be bothered that way, me, in my condition? She'll sleep all right by herself. She's not used to being petted, not since I've been sick, anyway. Not since the nurse left."

Lexie gazed in compassion at the poor baby, now asleep on the floor in the dining room, tears on her cheeks and an intermittent hectic sob shaking her baby shoulders. Poor little mite, with nobody taking care of her, and already a hard, belligerent set to her little lips! What could she do for her? Obviously she was the first one to be made comfortable. The rest could wait.

In quick thought, she reviewed the possibilities of the house. There were two folding cots in the attic. She could easily bring those down for the two older children. There were plenty of blankets, now that she had opened the big old chest in which they were packed. But there was no crib for Bluebell. The last one in the family must have been her own, and only a very valuable piece of unneeded furniture would have survived so many years. But there was a wide couch in the room that used to be her mother's. She could make a bed for the baby up there, and herself sleep in her mother's bed, if she got any chance to sleep at all in this disorganized household.

Swiftly she went to work and soon had a comfortable place for Bluebell with chairs to guard the side so she couldn't roll off. Then she brought down the cots, an armful of sheets and blankets, and made up two beds for Angelica and Gerald.

"What in the world are you doing there in the next room?" called Elaine. "It seems to me you might keep a little still and give me a chance to sleep. And what is the mater with those two children? They've done nothing but wrangle since you brought the baby upstairs. I should think you might amuse them a few minutes and let me get a little rest before that lawyer comes. What time did he say he would be here?"

"There'll be no lawyer here to-night," said Lexie firmly. "And the best amusement these children can have is a little sleep. I've made up two cots here, and they'll soon be in bed. You better tell them what to do about nighties. I've got some things to attend to in the kitchen, and it's time we were all asleep. We're very tired. Angelica, go ask your mother where you can find your night things."

Lexie hurried away to find more blankets and left her petulant sister to deal with the two sleepy children. Returning a few minutes later she found all three in tears. Elaine crying heartbrokenly into her pillow like a well-bred invalid, Angelica struggling with a resistant button in the back of her dress, which wasn't really a sewed-on button at all, but was only pinned on with a safety pin. Gerald was howling as usual.

"I won't sleep in that old cot. I just won't, so there! I want a real bed, not an old cot!"

Lexie, tired as she was, breezed into the room and spoke cheerfully.

"Well, come now, we're going to play the game of go-to-bed. Who wants to be It?"

The two young wailers stopped instantly, surveyed her for a moment, and then changed face and put on eagerness.

"I would like to be It," said Angelica sedately, with a speculative attention that showed she was interested.

Then Gerald sounded his trumpet.

"That's not fair! I choose to be It! I'm the youngest, and you ought to let me be It. Isn't that so, Elaine? Mustn't they let me be It? I won't play if I can't be It!"

Then came Elaine's sharp voice: "Certainly, Lexie. You must let Gerald have what he wants or he won't go to sleep to-night, and I shan't get any rest." But Lexie chimed right over Elaine's voice, just as if she hadn't heard her at all. Lexie said cheerfully: "Why yes, of course, you can be It next. You can't be first because you didn't choose to be as soon as I spoke. However, you can be It second, and that gives you a chance to watch the game and see if you can improve on the way Angel did it. That gives you quite an advantage, you see. Besides, there's a prize! That is, there are two prizes, and one is just as good as the other, because the winner of the second prize gets to choose whether he'll have one just like the first, or a new one. But there's one rule that makes them both alike. There positively won't be any prize at all if there is a single squeal or yell or howl. It's got to be all very quiet and gentle, because your mother is sick and needs taken care of. Now, are you ready to hear the rules?"

"I am!" said Angelica. "I'm very quiet."

"Me, too!" said the little boy in a subdued tone.

"Very well, then," said Lexie. "Rule number one is that everything must proceed very quietly, no running nor pushing nor shoving. Rule number two—no dropping shoes noisily, nor fighting for hairbrushes. Rule number three—you must not leave your clothes on the floor. Lay them nicely on the chairs at the foot of the beds. You will find your nightclothes each lying on your cots. Put them on smoothly and get quietly into bed. I will watch the clock and see which gets in first, and afterward if you are still quite quiet I will award the two prizes. Angelica gets the first chance to wash while Gerry takes off his shoes and stockings and puts them nicely by the chair. Then Gerry takes his turn washing, and the hands and faces must be clean, and I mean clean, you know. Now, are you ready? If you are, go stand on the edge of that board in the floor and watch my raised hands. When I drop them, you may start. Ready?"

The two children scuttled across the room and toed the crack in the floor, watching her eagerly, silently. Lexie thrilled as she saw their interested faces. Then she dropped her hands.

"Go!" she said quietly.

Gerald dropped silently to the floor and went at the knot in his shoestring, while Angelica scurried to the bathroom. Silently, swiftly, earnestly they worked. Lexie was astonished that her game had interested them. From what she had seen of the children so far, she had not dared to hope that it would.

Angelica was back in a trice, and Gerald gave a last yank to his shoestring and dashed to take his place at the washbowl.

In five minutes those two children were snuggled in their cots under the blankets awaiting the prizes with eagerness, and there hadn't been a single argument about which cot should be occupied by which child!

Lexie brought a large chocolate drop to Angelica, and gave the little boy his choice between another and a date. He chose the chocolate, and both lay happily licking their chocolates while their tired young eyes blinked into quick sleepiness, and it wasn't many minutes before both were sound asleep.

"Well," said Elaine jealously, "what in the world did you do to them? I never saw them succumb so quickly. Did you give them a box of candy apiece, or administer a sleeping tablet?"

"Neither," whispered Lexie, laughing. "We played a game of going to bed. I'll teach you how to-morrow. Now, do you want anything yourself before you go to sleep? Do you want something more to eat or drink, or are you going right to sleep?"

"No, I don't want anything more to eat. I want you to go out somewhere and telephone to that lawyer. That's the first thing on the docket. And next I want you to go wherever you keep such things, and bring me all of Mamma's private papers. I want to look them over before the lawyer gets here."

Lexie stood still a moment and faced her sister quietly. Then she said: "Sorry! That's impossible! I will not ever telephone that man! I can't stop your trusting him, but I can refuse to have anything to do with the matter. And if you persist in it, I shall simply have to go away and leave you. I cannot have anything to do with Bettinger Thomas."

"Oh, how silly and unkind and prejudiced you are! I didn't think you'd be unkind when I'm so ill! I can't see why you couldn't call him up and just say I wanted to see him. He'll understand. He knew I was going to call him. I sent him a telegram and told him I would call. You needn't let him know who you are. Please, Lex, do it for me!"

"No, Elaine, it's for your sake that I can't do it. I know him to be a bad, unprincipled man, and I'll save you from him if I can."

"You mean you'll do everything to save the money for yourself," sneered Elaine. "Well, if you won't do that, please go somewhere and telephone for a nurse. I've got to have one to-night."

"No, Elaine, I can't do that either. The only place near here where they have a telephone is down at Mrs. Hadley's, and she has gone to stay a week with her daughter in New York."

"Well, surely you can go down to the drugstore and phone."

"Elaine, if you were dying and the only thing that would save you was a nurse, I'd go at the risk of my life. But you're not dying, and what you need is some sleep. No nurse could get out here anyway to-night. You know we are a long way out, and—really, Elaine—I'm just about all in. I feel as if I couldn't drag another step."

"Oh really?" I don't see what you've done to make you tired. You've simply been loafing here all day, haven't you? I didn't think you were so selfish! Well, anyway, if you'll go wherever you keep such things and find Mamma's papers right now, I'll be satisfied. I couldn't sleep until I have a chance to look them over."

Lexie looked at her sister sadly.

"I've told you twice that there are no papers. The only paper I know anything about is the deed of this house, and that is in a safe-deposit box in the bank out where my college is. It is absolutely the only paper I have that has anything to do with any financial matters. If you don't believe me you'll have to do what you want to, but I'm going to bed! I'm just done out!"

Lexie walked out of the room to her own, and wrapping the only unused blanket about her she dropped wearily down on her bed, a few steps from the sleeping Bluebell.