CHAPTER VII
A TRAITOROUS PROCEEDING
"We shall have to make our work count this week, Mr. Kendrick. Next weekI anticipate that there will be no chance whatever to do a stroke." Sospoke Judge Gray to his assistant on one Monday morning as he shookhands with him in greeting.
"Very well, sir," replied the young man, with, however, a sense of itsnot being at all well. It was to him a regrettable fact that he seldomsaw much of the various members of the household, and of one particularmember so little that he was tempted to wonder if she ever took thetrouble to evade him. But, of course, there was always the chance of anencounter, and he never opened the house door without the feeling thatjust inside might be a certain figure on its way out.
"Next week is Christmas week," explained Judge Gray. He stood upon thehearth-rug, his back to the open fire, warming his hands preparatory totaking up his pen. His fingers were apt to be a little stiff on theseDecember mornings. "During Christmas week this house is always givenover to such holiday doings as I don't imagine another house in townever knows. Christmas house-parties are plenty, I believe, but not thesort of house-party we indulge in. I am inclined to think ours beats theworld."
He chuckled, running his hand through the thick white locks above hisbrow with a gesture which Richard had come to know meant specialsatisfaction.
"You have so many and such delightful people?" suggested his assistant.
The white head nodded. "The house would hardly hold more, nor could theybe more delightful. You see, there are five brothers of us. I am theeldest, Robert the youngest. Rufus, Henry, and Philip come between.Henry and Philip live in small towns, Rufus in the country proper. Eachhas a good-sized family, with several married sons and daughters whohave children of their own. It has been my brother Robert's custom fortwenty years to ask them all here for Christmas week." He began tolaugh. "If the family keeps on growing much larger I don't know thatthere will be room to accommodate them all, but so far my sister hasalways managed. Fortunately this is an even more roomy old homesteadthan it looks. But you may easily imagine, Mr. Kendrick, that there isvery little chance for solitude and quiet work during that week."
"I can fully imagine," agreed Richard. "And yet I can't imagine," heamended. "I never saw such a gathering in my life."
"Never did, eh? You must come in some time during the week and get aglimpse of it. We have fine times, I can tell you. My old head sometimeswhirls a bit," the Judge admitted, "before the week is over, but--it'sworth it. Particularly on the night of the party. The children alwayshave a party on Christmas Eve in the attic. It's a great affair. Nodancing-parties nor balls in other places can be mentioned in the samebreath with it. You should see brother Rufus taking out my nieceRoberta, and brother Henry dancing with Stephen's little wife. The girlsaccommodate themselves to the old-fashioned steps in great style."
"I certainly should like to see it," Richard said, wondering if therewere any possible chance of his being invited.
But Judge Gray offered no suggestion of the sort, and Richard made uphis mind that the Christmas Eve dance would be a strictly family affair."Probably the country relatives are a queer lot," he decided, "and theGrays don't care to show them off. Still--that's not like them, either.It's certainly like them to do such an eccentric thing as to get theircousins all here and try to give them a good time. I should like to seeit. I should!"
He found his thoughts wandering many times during the morning's work tothe image of Roberta dancing with the old uncle from the country. He hadnever met her at any of the society dances which were now and thenhonoured by his presence. Unquestionably the Grays moved in a circlewith which he was not familiar--a circle made up of people distinguishedrather for their good birth and the things which they had done than fortheir wealth. Nobody in the city stood upon a higher social level thanthe Grays, but they lived in a world in which the gay and fashionableset Richard knew were totally unknown and unhonoured.
The more he thought about it the more he wished that, if only for aweek, he were at least a sixteenth cousin of the Gray family, that hemight be present at that Christmas party. But during the week chance didnot even throw him in the way of meeting the various members of thefamily proper, and when Saturday night came he had discovered noprospect of attaining his wish. He knew that the guests were to arriveon the following Monday. Christmas Day was on Saturday; the night of theparty then would be Friday night. And the Judge, in taking leave of him,did not even mention again his wish that Richard might see the gueststogether.
He was coming out of the library, on his way to the hall door, hopehaving died hard and his spirits being correspondingly depressed, whenFate at last intervened in his behalf. Fate took the form of young Mrs.Stephen Gray, descending the stairs with a two-year-old child in herarms, such a rosy, brown-eyed cherub of a child that an older and morehardened bachelor than Richard Kendrick need not have been suspected ofdissimulation if he had stopped short in his course as Richard did, toadmire and wonder.
"Is that a real, live boy?" cried the young man softly. "Or have youstolen him out of a frame somewhere?"
Mrs. Stephen stood still, smiling, on the bottom stair, and Richardapproached with eager interest. He came close and stood looking into thesmall face with eyes which took in every exquisite feature.
"Jove!" he said, under his breath, and looked up at the young mother. "Ididn't know they made them like that."
She laughed softly, with a mother's happy pride. "His little sisterreally ought to have had his looks," she said. "But we're hoping she'lldevelop them, and he'll grow plain in time to save him from beingspoiled."
"Do you really hope that?" he laughed incredulously. "Don't hope it toofast. See here, Boy, are you real? Come here and let me see." He heldout his arms.
"He's very shy," began Mrs. Stephen in explanation of the situation shenow expected to have develop. It did develop in so far that the childshyly buried his head in her shoulder. But in a moment he peeped outagain. Richard continued to hold out his arms, smiling, and suddenly thelittle fellow leaned forward. Richard gently drew him away from hismother, and, though he looked back at her as if to make sure that shewas there, he presently seemed to surrender himself with confidence intothe stranger's care and gave him back smile for smile.
Richard sat down with little Gordon Gray on his knee, and then ensuedsuch a conversation between the two, such a frolic of games and smiles,as his mother could only regard in wonder.
"He never makes friends easily," she said. "I can't understand it. Youmust have had plenty of experience with little children somehow, inspite of those statements about your never having seen a family likeours before."
"I never held a child like this one before in my life," said RichardKendrick. He looked up at her as he spoke.
"If Roberta could see him now," thought Mrs. Stephen, "she wouldn't beso hard on him. No man who isn't worth knowing can win a baby'sconfidence like that. I think he has one of the nicest faces I eversaw--even though it isn't lined with care." Aloud she said: "Itsurprises me that you should care to begin now."
"It's one of those new experiences I'm getting from time to time underthis roof; that's the only way I can account for it. I never evenguessed at the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a small chap likethis. But I've no right to keep you while I taste new experiences. Thankyou for this one. I shan't forget it."
He surrendered the boy with evident reluctance. "I hear you are to havea houseful of guests next week," he ventured to add. "Do they includeany first cousins of this little man?"
"Two--of his own age--and any number of older ones. I'll take you up tothe playroom some afternoon next week and show you the babies together,if you're interested, and if Uncle Calvin will let me interrupt his workfor a few minutes."
"Thank you; I'll gladly come to the house for that special purpose, ifyou'll let me know when. Judge Gray has decided not to try to work atall next week; he's giving me a holiday I really don't want."
"Are you so interest
ed in your labours with him?"
Their eyes met. There was something very sweet and womanly in Mrs.Stephen's face and in the eyes which scanned his, or he would never havedared to say what he said next.
"Not in the work itself," he confessed frankly, "though I don't find itas hard as I did at first. But--the association with Judge Gray,the--well, I suppose it's really having something definite to do with mytime. Above all, just being in this house, though I don't belong to it,is getting to seem so interesting to me that I'm afraid I shall hardlyknow what to do with myself all next week."
She could not doubt the genuineness of his admission, strange as itsounded. So the young aristocrat was really dreading a week's vacation,he who had done nothing but idle away his time. She felt a touch of pityfor him; yet how absurd it was!
"I wish you could meet some of the people who will be here next week,"she said. "I wonder if you would care to?"
"If they're anything like those of the Gray family, I already know Ishould care immensely." He spoke with enthusiasm.
"I think some of them are the most interesting people I have ever met.My husband's Uncle Rufus, Judge Gray's brother--why, you must meet UncleRufus. I'll speak to Mrs. Robert Gray about it. I'm sure if she thoughtyou cared she'd be delighted to have you know him. Then there's theChristmas Eve dance. I wonder if you would enjoy that? We don't usuallyhave many people outside of the family, but there are always some ofRob's and Louis's special friends asked for the dance, and I'm sure Ican arrange it. I'll mention it to Roberta."
"Must it--er--rest with Miss Roberta? I'm afraid she won't ask me,"declared Richard anxiously.
"Won't she? Why? She will probably say that she doesn't believe you willenjoy it, but if I assure her that you want to come I think she willtrust me. She's very exacting as to the qualifications of the guests atthis dance, and will have nobody who isn't ready for a good time inevery unconventional way. I warn you, Mr. Kendrick, who are used toleading cotillions, you may have to dance the Virginia reel with one ofthe dear little country cousins. I wonder if you will have thediscernment to see that some of them are better worth meeting than agood many of the girls you probably know."
She gave him a keen, analyzing look. Small and sweet as she was, clearlyshe belonged to this singular Gray family as if she had been born in it.He met her look unflinchingly. Then his glance fell to little Gordon.
"You trusted me with the boy," said he. "I think you may trust me withthe little country cousin--if she will do me the honour."
"I will see that you have the chance," she assured him, and he went awayfeeling like a boy who has been promised a long-desired and despaired-oftreat.
But it was not of the Virginia reel he was thinking as he went swingingaway down the wintry street.
* * * * *
They were sitting, most of them, before the living-room fire, discussingthe plans for the week of the house-party, when Rosamond broke the news.
"I've taken a great liberty," said she serenely, "for which I hopeyou'll all forgive me. I've--tentatively--promised Mr. Kendrick aninvitation to the Christmas dance."
There was a shout from Louis and Ted together. Ruth beamed with delight.Across the fireplace Roberta shot at her sister-in-law one rebelliousglance.
"I knew I had no right to do it," admitted Rosamond gayly. "But I knewwe always asked a few young people to swell the company to the dancingsize, and I was sure you couldn't ask anybody who would appreciate itmore."
"Hasn't the poor fellow a chance at any other merry-making?" mockedLouis. "Poor little millionaire! Won't anybody invite him to lead aChristmas Eve cotillion? I believe there's to be a most gorgeous affairof the sort at Mrs. Van Tassel Grieve's that night. Has he beeninadvertently overlooked? Not with Miss Gladys Grieve to oversee thelist of the lucky ones, I'll wager. It's a wonder he hadn't acceptedthat invitation before you got in yours."
"I didn't get mine in," was Rosamond's demure rejoinder. "I laid it inan humbly beseeching hand."
"How on earth did he know there was to be a dance here?" Stepheninquired.
"I mentioned it."
"I had already told him of it," put in Judge Gray from the background,where he was listening with interest. "I'm glad you asked him, Rosamond,and I'll answer for your forgiveness. While you are inviting I shouldlike to invite his grandfather also. Christmas Eve is a lonely time forhim, I'll be bound, and it would do him good to meet Rufus and Phil, andthe rest again."
"I'll tell you what we're going to end by being," murmured Louis toRoberta:--"a 'Discontented Millionaires' Home.'"
* * * * *
On the stairs an hour afterward a brief but significant colloquy tookplace between Rosamond Gray and her sister-in-law, Roberta.
"Why do you mind having him come, Rob? Haven't you any charity for thepoor at Christmas time?"
"Poor! He's poor enough, but he doesn't know it."
"Doesn't he? The night he was here at dinner he told me he felt poor."Rosamond's look was triumphant. "He feels it very much; he's never knownwhat family life meant."
"Do you imagine he can adapt himself to the conditions of the Christmasparty? If I catch him laughing--ever so covertly--I'll send him home!"
"You savage person! You don't expect to catch him laughing! He's agentleman. And I believe he's enough of a man to appreciate the auntsand uncles and cousins, even those of them who don't patronize citytailors and dressmakers. Why, they're perfectly delightful people, everyone of them, and he will have the discernment to see it."
"I don't believe it. Where have you seen him that you have so much moreconfidence than I have?"
"I've had one or two little talks with him that have told me a gooddeal. And this afternoon he met me as I was coming downstairs withGordon. Rob, what do you think? Gordon went to him exactly as he goes toStephen; they had the greatest time. Gordon knows better than you dowhom to trust."
"You and Gordon are very discerning. A handsome face and a wheedlingmanner--and you think you have a fine, strong character. Handsome is ashandsome does, Rosy Gray of the soft heart, and a wheedling manner isdust and ashes compared with the ability to accomplish something wortheffort. But--bring your nice young man to the party if you like; onlytake care of him. I shall be busy with the real men!"
The Twenty-Fourth of June: Midsummer's Day Page 7