XIV
PA STEPS ASIDE
They wept together for a long time, Ella and Rose-Marie. And as theycried something grew out of their common emotion. It was a something thatthey both felt subconsciously--a something warm and friendly. It mighthave been a new bond of affection, a new chain of love. Rose-Marie, asshe felt it, was able to say to herself--with more of tolerance than shehad ever known--
"If I had been as tempted and as unhappy as she--well, I might, perhaps,have reacted in the same way!"
And Ella, sobbing in the arms of the girl that she had never quiteunderstood, was able to tell herself: "She's right--dead right! Thestraight road's the only road...."
It was little Lily who created a diversion. She had been standing, veryquietly, in the shelter of their arms for some time--she had a way ofstanding with an infinite patience, for hours, in one place. Butsuddenly, as if drawn by some instinct, she dropped down on the floor,beside the cheap suit-case, and her small hands, shaking with eagerness,started to take out the clothes that had been flung into it.
It was uncanny, almost, to see the child so happily beginning to unpackthe suit-case. The sight dried Rose-Marie's tears in an almostmiraculous way.
"Let's put away the things," she suggested shakily, to Ella. "For youwon't be going now, will you?"
The face that Ella Volsky lifted was a changed face. Her expression was ashade more wistful, perhaps, but the somber glow had gone out of hereyes, leaving them softer than Rose-Marie had supposed possible.
"No, Miss," she said quietly, "I won't be going--away. You're right, itain't worth the price!" And the incident, from that moment, was closed.
They unpacked the garments--there weren't many of them--quietly. ButRose-Marie was very glad, deep in her soul, and she somehow felt thatElla's mind was relieved of a tremendous strain. They didn't speakagain, but there was something in the way Ella's hand touched herlittle sister's sunny hair that was more revealing than words. Andthere was something in the way Rose-Marie's mouth curved blithely upthat told a whole story of satisfaction and content. It seemed as ifpeace, with her white wings folded and at rest, was hovering, at last,above the Volsky flat.
And then, all at once, the momentary lull was over. All at once the calmwas shattered as a china cup, falling from a careless hand, is broken.There was a sudden burst of noise in the front room; of rough words; of awoman sobbing. There was the sound of Mrs. Volsky's voice, raised in anunwonted cry of anguish, there was a trickle of water slithering downupon an uncarpeted floor--as if the wash-tub had been overturned.
It was the final event of an unsettling day--the last straw. ForgettingLily, forgetting the unpacking, Rose-Marie jumped to her feet, ran to thedoor. Ella followed. They stood together on the threshold of the outerroom, and stared.
The room seemed full of people--shouting, gesticulating people. And inthe foreground was Jim--as sleek and well groomed as ever. Of all thecrowd he seemed the only one who was composed. In front of him stood Mrs.Volsky--her face drawn and white, her hands clasped in a way that wassingularly and primitively appealing.
At first Rose-Marie thought that the commotion had to do with Jim. Shewas always half expecting to hear that he had been apprehended in somesort of mischief, that he had been accused of some crime. But shedismissed the idea quickly--his composure was too real to be born ofbravado. It was while her brain groped for some new solution that shebecame conscious of Mrs. Volsky's voice.
"Oh, he ain't," the woman was moaning, "say he ain't! My man--he couldnot be so! There ain't no truth in it--there can't be no truth.... Say ashe ain't been done to so bad! Say it!"
Ella, with a movement that was all at once love-filled, stepped quicklyto her mother's side. As she faced the crowd--and Jim--her face was alsodrawn; drawn and apprehensive.
"What's up?" she queried tersely of her brother. "What's up?"
The face of Jim was calm and almost smiling as he answered. Behind himthe shrill voices of the crowd sounded, like a background, to the bluntwords that he spoke.
"Pa was comin' home drunk," he told Ella, "an' he was ran inter by atruck. He was smashed up pretty bad; dead right away, th' cop said. Butthey took him ter a hospital jus' th' same. Wonder why they'd take astiff ter a hospital?"
Mrs. Volsky's usually colourless voice was breaking into loud, almostweird lamentation. Ella stood speechless. But Rose-Marie, the horror ofit all striking to her very soul, spoke.
"It can't be true," she cried, starting forward and--in the excitement ofthe moment--laying her hand upon Jim's perfectly tailored coat sleeve."It can't be true.... It's too terrible!"
Jim's laugh rang out heartlessly, eerily, upon the air.
"It ain't so terrible!" he told Rose-Marie. "Pa--he wasn't no good! Hewasn't a reg'lar feller--like me." All at once his well-manicured whitehand crept down over her hand. "_He wasn't a reg'lar feller_," herepeated, "_like me_!"
The Island of Faith Page 13