Brentwood

by Grace Livingston Hill

  “But mine has always been squirrel!” declared Betty. “I’ve just envied girls with squirrel coats. I used to think I’d do almost anything to get one. And now I have one without doing a thing! And that darling gray hat! Oh, Marjorie, I’m so ashamed of the way I used to think about you! I don’t deserve a thing!”

  “Nonsense!” laughed Marjorie. “Forget it! You and I are going in town the first day Mother is well enough to be left alone and get you some pretty dresses. You’re not going to have to be wearing my castoffs any more. You’re going to have what you want, what you pick out yourself!”

  “What I want! How could I possibly want anything better than the lovely things you’ve given me? No, you mustn’t buy me anything more. I’ll get my head turned. I’m going to get a job just as soon as Mother is able to be left, and I’ll buy the rest of the things I need.”

  Marjorie put a loving arm around her.

  “I’m going to get you some pretty things right away,” she said. “We’re not going to wait for jobs and things. You need them now, and you’re going to have them. Come let’s go back in the other room a few minutes. There’s nothing more to do till those potatoes are ready to mash, is there?”

  Back in the parlor, they found their mother lying down on the couch in her new robe, looking as pretty as her girls, and the children still rejoicing over their presents.

  Suddenly Sunny broke forth.

  “Evwybuddy’s got a lotta pwetty sings but ’Nother Betty!” he exclaimed. “Her only got hankies an’ ittle sings!”

  “She’s got those stuck-up orchid flowers from Chicago!” growled Bud savagely.

  Marjorie suddenly cast a quick glance around at all their faces, and her heart tightened with a glad hope. Were her family just the least bit jealous of her Chicago friends?

  “But the flowers can’t help being stuck-up, Bud,” she said brightly. “You know, they’re parasites, and they find themselves stuck up on a high tree somewhere when they’re born, so it isn’t their fault.”

  Bud stared.

  “What’s parasikes?”

  Marjorie explained.

  “A parasite is a plant that lives on other plants. Their seeds float around and lodge in the crotch of a tree in warm climates and begin to grow there, sucking their life from the juices of the tree. Parasites don’t work for themselves. They lodge on some other plant and live from it.”

  Bud looked thoughtful.

  “They’re like tramps, aren’t they? Won’t work. Suckers!” said the boy.

  “Look out there, Bud! You’re getting pretty near home,” grinned Ted. “If this family isn’t living on somebody else just now, I’ll miss my guess. You’re sure right that some people are parasites.”

  Bud turned solemn eyes on Marjorie.

  “Is the man that sent these orchids a parasite?” he asked.

  Marjorie laughed. What would Evan Brower think of that?

  “Oh, no,” she said with heightened color. “He works. He’s a lawyer, and I guess he’ll have to work hard before he gets to be a noted one like his father!”

  Bud lost interest then and went to examine the signal lights of his new train, but the rest of the family were quiet, thoughtful, as they looked now and then at the gorgeous orchids flaming at them from the big china pitcher on the bookcase where Marjorie had put them. Somehow those orchids represented to them all another world, an alien world from which had come this fairy sister. Would it sometime take her away from them again? A hint of sadness hovered in the Christmas air and threatened the Christmas spirit. They were going to have Brentwood back, but would it be without Marjorie? Would Chicago claim her?

  Betty was just taking the turkey out of the oven and Marjorie was filling the water glasses when there came a ring at the door again. Ted went to open it, and there stood Gideon Reaver with a small white package in his hand. It wasn’t tied up with ribbons or seals like a Christmas present, though it looked as though it would like to have been. It just had a rubber band around it.

  Ted welcomed the young man joyously.

  “Come in!” he cried as though Santa Claus himself had appeared at the door.

  “Oh, I mustn’t,” said Gideon, smiling. “I just stopped in to leave this little book for your sister. I told her I’d send it over, and this is the first chance I’ve had. Also, I wanted to ask if you folks wouldn’t come over to our Christmas service tonight at nine o’clock.”

  “Oh, come on in,” said Ted. “I want you to meet Dad and Mother. You aren’t in such a hurry you can’t stop a minute, are you?”

  “No, I’m not in a hurry at all!” said Gideon, smiling again, “but I don’t believe in intruding on Christmas Day.”

  “Intruding?” said Ted, opening the door wide and pulling his adored pastor in. “Where do you get that word?”

  Then he suddenly turned and caught the look on Betty’s face as she came into the dining room exactly opposite the hall door, with the great brown steaming turkey on its platter.

  Betty didn’t like him to invite Gideon Reaver in! Betty would be sore! Now probably Christmas would all be spoiled! Poor Ted! He could hardly get through the introductions.

  But Marjorie came shining into the room and welcomed the guest, and Ted felt better. Then his father and mother were both very cordial, too, and Ted beamed, though conscious all the time of Betty and the turkey in the background.

  Betty put down the platter and came and stood frowning in the hall door, but the frown suddenly died down. She was surprised to find how young and good-looking Ted’s boasted minister was. She hesitated, wondering just what to do about the turkey, and as she hesitated, Marjorie turned and introduced her.

  “This is my twin sister, Mr. Reaver. This is the one you saw before.”

  And suddenly Betty was swept into the circle, much against her will. But Mr. Reaver was interesting looking, and she roused out of her annoyance and greeted him pleasantly enough.

  But Gideon Reaver had a lot of intuition, and he had seen that turkey.

  “I’m just delighted to see you all,” he said, with a comprehensive glance which took them all in, “but I’m not going to stop now. I can tell by the delicious odors that are going around that dinner is on the table, so I’ll just run away now and come back another time and call if I may. Far be it from me to delay a Christmas dinner!”

  Suddenly the mother spoke up, almost eagerly, it seemed.

  “Why not stay and share it with us?” she asked. She had seen the look of adoration in her boy’s eyes.

  “Yes, do stay,” said the father heartily. “I know everybody will be delighted.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t think of intruding that way. Indeed I couldn’t. I was just passing and thought I would leave the message.”

  “But you haven’t had your dinner yet, have you?” challenged Ted wistfully.

  “No, I’m just on my way back to my boarding house.”

  “That settles it,” said Father. “Ted, go and see if there are enough chairs to go around, and Betty, put on another plate!”

  But suddenly the front door, which had the night latch off, opened again, and in walked the doctor.

  “Well, now, upon my word, if I haven’t walked in on a party!” he said. “I beg your pardon. I won’t stay but a minute. I just wanted to make sure my patients were all right and fit for turkey!”

  “You’re just in time!” said Mr. Gay happily. “Have you had your Christmas dinner yet?”

  “Well, no, I haven’t yet, but I’m used to waiting. You see, I was called up on the hills to a serious case at five this morning, and I’m just getting back. Haven’t had my breakfast yet, and it wouldn’t do to eat dinner till I’ve had breakfast, you see. I’ll just check Mrs. Gay’s pulse and then I’ll be moving on.”

  “We’ll call it brunch then,” called out Betty suddenly from the doorway. “Come on, there’s plenty to eat. You get the chairs, Ted, two from upstairs, you know. Hurry! The turkey is already on the table. The more the merrier.”

 
They all turned and looked at Betty’s bright face, so changed from a moment before. Ted breathed a sigh of relief, and the rest gave quick, furtive glances at the doctor, and then Sunny broke into the silence with one of his funny little grown-up imitation laughs.

  “Ha-ha! More th’ merrier! More th’ merrier!”

  Of course, they all laughed then and the stiffness was gone. Marjorie hurried off to get the extra plates.

  Mr. Gay introduced the minister and the doctor, and they studied each other a bit cautiously. But they were both staying, there was no question about that.

  “Dinner is served!” said Betty, suddenly appearing in the doorway looking very pretty in Marjorie’s green knit dress with a bit of red ribbon knotted in her hair and a scrap of holly on one shoulder.

  “It’s going to be a tight squeeze, friends, but we thought it was better than waiting to put another leaf in the table and eating a cold dinner,” said Mr. Gay.

  Betty’s cheeks were rosy and her eyes were twinkling. She seemed like a new Betty to Marjorie. Ted drew another deep sigh of relief and beamed at Sunny as he lifted him into his high chair.

  The doctor, without waiting on the order of his going, marched straight over to Betty and pulled out her chair, and then took the one next her. Mrs. Gay smiled and took her place where cushions had been arranged at her back and feet. The minister found himself seated between Marjorie and Ted. Then Mr. Gay’s voice broke into the laughter of getting seated.

  “Mr. Reaver, will you ask the blessing, please?”

  Marjorie stifled a quick look of surprise. There had been no asking of blessings so far in the meals she had eaten in her new home, although she reflected they had been most informal, and her father had generally eaten upstairs with her mother. But her heart warmed to the words that were spoken, and she thrilled at the sweet silence that settled over them all. This minister certainly was a rare one. How great for Ted to have such a man for a friend!

  “Lord, we thank Thee today for this sweet fellowship that has gathered us all around this board to receive of Thy bounties. We thank Thee for these Thy good gifts for the refreshment of our bodies, and we thank Thee most of all for this day to keep in memory the gift of Thy son, our Savior Jesus Christ, who came to earth to take upon Himself our sins and their penalty of death, and who bore them all, with their shame and their punishment, that all we who believe on Thee might go free, and come home to Thy house at last without spot or wrinkle or any such thing. We crave Thy blessing today, and ask it in the name of the Lord Jesus. Amen.”

  As the heads were lifted, the doctor shot a quick, keen glance at the minister across from him. But it was the minister who spoke first.

  “Do you mean to tell me, Doctor, that you can always tell which of these twins is which?” he asked, looking from Betty to Marjorie at his side.

  “Well,” said the doctor, “I can always tell that this one is Betty, but I’m not always so sure which one the other one is!”

  They all laughed heartily at that, and Sunny gave his little laugh that always brought down the house, bending his head down on the table until his curls were in his plate.

  “Ha! Ha! Which one is ’nother!”

  There wasn’t much stiffness after that, and the bright talk raced around the table gaily from one to the other, till finally all the plates were filled and everybody hard at work emptying them.

  Ted was very silent, but his nice grin at all the jokes showed he was enjoying everything immensely.

  “You sure you’re not overdoing, Mother?” asked the father at last as he finished carving and addressed himself to his own plate.

  “Oh, no!” said Mother quietly, and added brightly in the lingo of her children, “I’m having the time of my life!”

  The doctor cast a questioning eye toward her, and said, “Perhaps it will do her good. She’s been cooped up so long. Anyhow, I’m here to rescue her if she shows signs of collapse. But what I want to know is, Mrs. Gay, with you laid up, who cooked this turkey? I never ate one more delicious. It’s the best turkey I ever tasted.”

  “Betty cooked it,” called out shy Bonnie suddenly. “She asked Mother how and she did it all herself!”

  “Thank you, young lady, for the information,” said the doctor, bowing. “I suspected as much, but I didn’t dare ask so personal a question.”

  “Aw, she can cook other things, too,” put in Bud loyally. “She can make pancakes something swell!”

  “Can she indeed! I’m coming around to breakfast some morning, if I may. And I’m certainly coming to Christmas dinner again whether I’m asked or not, sometime when I get another Christmas afternoon off.”

  It was a delightful occasion, and everyone enjoyed it to the full. They lingered at the table, laughing and telling stories until Sunny, replete with turkey and his first mince pie, laid down his golden head and went to sleep in his chair.

  And then when they at last arose, both the guests insisted upon helping with the dishes, and what a cheerful time they had at that.

  It was after seven o’clock when the dishes were done and the young people came back to the tiny parlor.

  Mother had had a nap on the couch and professed to be as fresh as a rose, which remark gave occasion for a lot of pleasant compliments from the two young men guests.

  Strange to say, neither doctor nor minister seemed to be in a hurry to leave. In fact, both had confessed earlier in the afternoon that they had been alone and longing for company when they drifted toward Aster Street, but hadn’t in mind any such invasion as they had made.

  By this time they were excellent friends, having discovered a number of tastes in common. The doctor had inquired where Gideon preached, and Gideon had suggested that he’d better come over his way and open an office. The doctor said he’d think about it, and Betty told him they were going to move back there and needed to have their doctor handy. He said he didn’t know, but he would look into it.

  They all settled down, Marjorie on the floor beside her mother’s couch with her mother’s hand in hers. Betty and Bonnie together in a big chair at the foot, Gideon Reaver talking to Mr. Gay in the wide doorway into the hall, Bud watching Ted as he helped Sunny make a complicated toy wind up and run the way it ought to, and the doctor standing behind Betty’s chair, looking down at her and talking.

  Suddenly Gideon turned around to them all.

  “Now, why don’t we have a little sing?” he said. “Christmas isn’t complete without carols. Suppose we make the kiddies begin. Bonnie, don’t you and Sunny know a little Christmas song?”

  Bonnie shyly nodded.

  “Soor ve does,” piped Sunny, getting up from his knees and coming promptly to the front. “Ve knows ‘’Vay-in-amanger!’ ”

  So the little sister and brother stood up by the Christmas tree, hand-in-hand, and sang Luther’s cradle hymn very sweetly. Then Gideon started “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” and they all sang on. Ted slipped up and turned off the light, leaving only the lights of the Christmas tree, and it seemed a holy and beautiful time. Gideon’s voice was rich and clear, and the doctor proved to be a good bass. Song after song was sung. Bonnie curled up beside Marjorie, and Sunny crept into the big chair with Betty, sleepy and content, replete with Christmas joys.

  It was just as they were singing the last line of “Silent Night,” that Evan Brower walked contemptuously up the narrow steps, and failing to identify the small, insignificant doorbell in the darkness, gave a thunderous knock on the door.

  Coming as it did into the sweetness of that “Silent holy night” of long ago, it was somewhat of a shock.

  Chapter 15

  Ted snapped on the lights and opened the door, and there stood a tall, haughty young man.

  “Does this happen to be number 1465 Aster Street?” he asked.

  Ted nodded gravely.

  “Is Miss Wetherill here?”

  “Wetherill?” Ted hesitated and was about to say no, then suddenly it dawned upon him again, and he took a deep breath like one about
to relinquish something precious and answered with dignity, “She is.” Then he added with what was almost haughtiness in his voice, “Won’t you come in?”

  Evan stepped into the house, leaving the taxi throbbing outside, and looked about the tiny hall and the equally tiny parlor beyond, searchingly, like a warhorse out for battle. And strangely, that place that had before been large enough and sweet with quiet fellowship, seemed to shrink and reveal all its inadequacies. Betty gasped quietly and remembered that she had on one of her sister’s dresses. Would it be recognized? She sighted a smooch of chocolate from ill-gotten candies against orders on Sunny’s face. She realized how ugly the wallpaper was, and that the only vacant chair left for the stranger to take was a shaky one that invariably squeaked when one sat upon it. These things had not been in evidence all the afternoon, even with their two young men guests present, but now they came out and mocked her as she gave one swift survey of the room.

  But Marjorie, her color perhaps a trifle heightened, came forward at once.

  “Why, Evan,” she said pleasantly, “this certainly is a surprise! Let me introduce my brother, Theodore Gay, and my father, Mr. Gay. Father, this is Mr. Brower, a very dear friend of the Wetherill family. This is my sister Elizabeth, and these are our friends, Mr. Reaver and Dr. Sheridan—”

  She presented them one by one as they were standing about in the doorway, and each bowed courteously, trying to veil their disappointment at the interruption in their pleasant evening. But Evan Brower merely acknowledged the introductions by a level stare at each and the slightest possible inclination of his head.

  “And won’t you come in and meet my mother?” went on Marjorie blithely, though she wasn’t at all sure from the look in Evan’s eye whether he was going to follow her or not. “Mother has been very ill, and is only up today for the first time, or rather, she isn’t exactly up. She has to lie on the couch.”

  Marjorie led the way to the couch, and Evan reluctantly stepped a few feet nearer and inclined his head again at Mrs. Gay, his face showing that all this was a matter of utter indifference to him and he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.