However that may be, the thought had hardly escaped Elsie’s consciousness before there came a sound of footsteps at the front door, and there was a loud call for Jack as of one accustomed to such unceremonious entrances.
Jack leaped as if he had some kind of an electrical contrivance attached to him. The conversation seemed suspended in mid-air while he went to the door. There was a moment’s low growl outside the foyer, and then Jack returned, flinging down his napkin and snatching up his cap from the hall table with one and the same movement. “I gotta beat it. So-long.”
“O Jack!” came from Elsie with a wail of apprehension. “You haven’t finished your dinner, and there’s an awfully nice dessert, a new one.”
“Can’t help it,” said Jack with a half-wistful look back at his plate, which was only half cleared. “I gotta go. The fellas were here twice for me this morning. I forgot all about it. Had this date for two weeks. Awful sorry, Elsie. You save me some, won’t you?”
“But Jack!” said Elsie, her eyes suddenly filling with disappointed tears that she hadn’t in the least summoned. “This is my first Sunday, and I thought we’d have such a nice time together.”
“Gee! Elsie, I didn’t plan to do it. I tell you I had this date for two weeks back, and I gotta go. I’ll get back as quick as I can.”
“Will you be back by four o’clock? I wanted you and Gene to take me for a walk.”
“I’ll try,” said Jack weakly, slamming the door hard to keep out the sound of Elsie’s disappointed protest. He knew he couldn’t get back. He was going on a thirty-mile jaunt in an automobile with some girls and fellows, and he knew it would be late before he could possibly return. He sneaked out the door and sprang into the car in three strides, his conscience and his stomach both protesting; yet he felt bound to go. He didn’t have the nerve to back out. He knew perfectly well there were other fellows Bob Lowe could have asked to go with him. He didn’t particularly want to go, hadn’t wanted too much when he made the engagement, except for the ride, and to “pass the time away.” But it was the way of the fellows, and he couldn’t get out of it. They would “kid the life out of him” if he stayed home because his sister had come.
The little broken group at the table ate their dinner gloomily after his departure.
“He’d no business going!” declared Gene. “It’s that Bob Lowe. He’s always carting Jack off somewhere. He’s a lazy good-for-nothing himself, and he’s always getting Jack into every fool scheme he can.”
“Where do they go? What kind of a fellow is he?” Elsie was trying to conceal her disappointment and not spoil the day for the others.
“Oh, I don’t know. They go off to see some girls or visit some fellows in the city. I never knew Bob to have anything worthwhile in view. He just fools. He doesn’t even work. His father lets him do just as he pleases, lets him drive the car whenever he likes, and doesn’t make him go to work. He’s got some money, and Bob is going to spend it.”
“Does he drink?”
Elsie asked the question in a low tone, a desperate fear pulling at her heart. What if Jack were in that danger?
“I don’t know, I suppose so,” answered Gene crossly. Something in his expression made his sister think he did know, only he didn’t want to say.
She took a long breath, and tried to dismiss the subject and smile; but the father sat, thoughtfully looking out of the window and sighing now and then, with the regret of one who sees it is too late to undo the past. After dinner he went and sat in the big chair by himself with a newspaper spread before him, but he did not read. He was looking into the past and seeing where he might have led his sons by a different road.
Elsie wandered to the piano, and Gene sat nearby, watching and listening. At first they tried to sing; but they missed Jack’s voice, and somehow the fervor died out of the singing. Then Elsie began to play hymns and bits of variations, then a snatch of a Chopin nocturne, a strain of Handel’s “Largo,” a touch of Grieg’s “Morning,” anything that came into her troubled mind, while she watched and waited for the brother who, she instinctively knew, was not coming for a long time.
It became four o’clock, and half past; and then Eugene suggested that they take a walk. He said Jack would not be home till late that night; he never was back early when he went with Bob Lowe.
Elsie sighed, cast a troubled glance at her father, who was asleep in his chair, and finally yielded.
They walked out a long, quiet street that led to the cemetery. Perhaps neither of them realized where they were going until they came to it; and then Elsie, looking up with quick understanding of her surroundings, thought it was long since she had been there, said impulsively: “Let us go in, Gene. Can you find Mother’s grave?”
Standing on the bare brown hillside beside the grave, looking down to the little brook that rippled below in the late-afternoon sunshine, looking up through the bare branches overhead to the autumn sky, a strange silence came over them. It seemed as if the two so long separated had all at once come close to the mother who was gone, and understood her cares and wishes.
“It seems to me I can remember that she worried about you a great deal, Gene. She was so anxious for you to grow up a good man and strong, she used to say.” Elsie broke the silence without realizing what she was going to do.
“I know,” said the brother, looking off quickly to the west where heavy purple clouds raggedly bound with gold gave hint of the coming sunset. Then hoarsely, reluctantly, after a minute, “She would be worried about Jack now, I suppose.”
Elsie had no words to answer at once, but she laid her hand on her brother’s arm.
“Couldn’t we help—couldn’t we try to do for him—what she would have done if she had lived?” she asked at length.
“Perhaps,” said the boy, strangely moved. “He ought to get away from the factories!” he said fiercely after a minute. “It’s no place for him. He’s too young. You don’t know what it’s like over there.”
Elsie was still for some minutes. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger, as if she had come to some decision.
“He ought to go back to school, Gene. He must go to college!”
“He’ll never do it.” The brother shook his head sadly.
“He would if you did.”
They had turned and were walking back to the street now, and the golden light of the setting sun was streaming forth from between two purply-black ragged clouds, and lit the girl’s face. Her eyes were stern with a holy determination, and her lips were set. Her brother saw there was real purpose in her words and she meant to fight every inch of the way. He looked at her, and conviction stole into his heart. Yes, Jack would probably go to college if he went, and would never go unless he did. Yet it seemed just as impossible to him as ever that he at the age of twenty-three should presume to think of going to college; but still there was at least this one good reason for it, that if he went his brother might also be induced to go.
Elsie talked about it all the way back, but her brother said very little beyond shaking his head once or twice and telling her it was impossible. Nevertheless, she went on talking, and declared she meant to find out about classes and entrance examinations the very next day. Her brother only laughed, and told her she had the perseverance of the saints, and didn’t she know he couldn’t possibly go to college?
Then they went in, and Elsie with her brother’s help made delicate little sandwiches and cocoa, and got out an apple pie and some chocolate cake and peaches. All the time they were eating she kept listening and watching for Jack, her heart jumping at every noise.
And all at once he came, sullenly, noisily, wearily, she thought, slamming the door and flinging down his hat and coat. He was cold and cross and hungry, and “sore as the deuce,” as he expressed it. Bob Lowe had kidded him all the way over about going to church; and, when they reached their destination, the girls had gone off with another fellow, naturally, as he had not arrived when he said he would; and Bob Lowe was very sore indeed,
and laid the blame wholly on Jack. Things grew so uncomfortable on the way back that Jack had parted from Bob as soon as they came near the city lines, and had come home on the trolley; and the whole affair had not improved Jack’s temper. Moreover, Jack knew that he had been rude and impolite to his sister, and he was consequently more rude and impolite to make up for it. On the whole, Elsie judged it unwise to suggest going to church again that night, and instead covered Jack up on the couch, and sang and read to the three for an hour.
She was very weary and sick at heart when she went up to her room that night, also worried about Jack. Half impatiently she told herself as she lay down that, if the boys were going to get tired of staying at home with her, it would be useless for her to remain here. And then immediately came the thought that it was just because of the need for someone to lure them to stay home that she had come, and she must not mind a few discouragements.
Chapter 15
It was not easy to arise a whole hour earlier in the morning than she was accustomed to do, and, when Elsie looked out of her window on a gray day with sullen clouds in the background, she sighed and wondered whether after all she had not made a terrible mistake. Somehow in the gray of the cold early morning the little rose room in its daintiness did not make is appeal as it did in the brightness of the day or of electric light.
Nevertheless, she managed to keep her face cheerful and make the breakfast a pleasant time to remember as each went his way for the day; and when she had finally seated herself in the trolley, she was able to smile clear down into her heart and look at things bravely. She was going to town to get some circulars and a catalogue of the university today. She was going to call up the dean and ask a lot of questions. She had written them all down on a card so she would forget nothing. If it were a possible thing, she meant to get Eugene to start in at the university. There was no reason at all why he shouldn’t. It might be a fight to get him to go, but Elsie felt the joy of the battle, and the day began to look good to her. By the time she arrived at her friend’s home she was in excellent spirits. A few questions to the friend made her feel still more helpful, and her talk with the dean of the university sent her spirits soaring hopefully. The thing she proposed for her brother was not nearly so impossible a matter as she had feared. When she went back to Morningside she was fortified with much information; and she could hardly wait until supper was over before she began at her brother.
But Eugene had been through a long day of thinking. In imagination he had faced all sorts of possible situations in an unknown university, and he had firmly fixed his stakes that he would never, never go. Elsie found she had to do her work all over again. Once she was almost in despair and came near breaking down. She had so hoped to get him to go down and see the dean at once, but she saw now it would be impossible. However, he was deeply moved, and finally promised her he would think about it again.
All that week the battle went on, Elsie plying him at night with new arguments, new information, begging, fairly praying him to waste no more time, and Eugene coming home every night equally fortified with arguments and stubbornness against it. It got to be quite interesting, almost as good as a football game, Jack declared, while he sat and listened, putting in a word now on one side, now on the other. The discussion was not doing Jack any harm. He was learning a lot of things about education and universities, and his interest was being aroused.
Even the father took a hand in the conversation now and then.
Toward the end of the summer Elsie almost gave up hope. One could see by her eyes and by her nervous, eager voice that she had the thing deeply at heart. Eugene was greatly touched that she seemed to care so much, and questioned within himself haughtily, was it because she was ashamed of him as he was? Did she fear her fine friends would come out to see her, and turn away from there because of her ignorant brother? For a whole day this thought held him in its sullen thrall; then suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps he was a disgrace to her, that undoubtedly he did not know much, and must appear crude beside the men she had been used to; and a longing desire to be different sprang up within him, and a gratitude to his sister for caring what he was. It was so that he came to realize that Elsie was doing all this out of genuine concern for him. She had no call to come out to Morningside. She might have stayed in town and enjoyed herself, and let her brothers go to grass. It needn’t have troubled her what they were.
At last one night he stayed awake half the night to come to a conclusion about it. In the morning he astounded the family by announcing at the breakfast-table that he was done with the factory and meant to stay home that morning and get ready to go to the university. He would go down and see that dean and, if they would take his credits, he would make a stab at it anyway for a while. If he wasn’t too stupid, he would stick and graduate. If he found he couldn’t hold his own after a month’s trial, he would go back to work, and nobody need say a word about it, for he would be done with it forever.
Elsie in her delight almost upset the coffeepot to rush from her place and put her arms around his neck. Jack sat back forgetful of the buckwheat cakes and maple syrup, and looked at his brother in a kind of wonder, as if he had never quite known him before.
There was something strong and refreshing about Gene’s manner. He seemed to shut his lips a more decisive way, and his very smile was as of a creature made over. He seemed to be seeing things from a different point of view, to have grown up overnight. Jack continued to sit and watch him, wholly unaware that he was doing so, a puzzled, half-pitying expression on his face.
Elsie offered to go to the university with her brother and introduce him to some people she knew there, but he gently and firmly declined her services. Somehow he seemed to have developed a self-confidence and strength that astonished them all. The father sat and stared at his son, and said as he got up to take his old hat and go out to the trolley, “Well, Gene, your mother would have been pleased. I guess you’re doing the right thing.”
Gene was gone all day. Elsie spent much time going to the window and watching every trolley to see whether he was coming, and she grew anxious and restless, wishing she had insisted upon accompanying him, after all. There was no telling what might switch him away from his purpose if he found things different from his expectations.
The fireplace created a pleasant diversion, getting itself finished; and, when the men were done and gone, she built up a beautiful fire and had it ready to light when the family should return.
Gene was the last to arrive, and came in from the trolley just as they had about made up their minds to sit down to the table without him. They greeted him as though he had been lost, and then were silent under his changed, radiant look.
“Well, I’ve had some time!” he said, beaming round upon them all. “Just wait till I wash up a bit, and I’ll tell you.”
“Well, you’ve certainly made a day of it. Just take your time, old man,” shouted Jack, as his brother disappeared up the stairs in three bounds.
Eugene plunged into his story at once when he came down.
“You see I found Tod Hopkins down there, ran into him the first thing while I was inquiring the way to the office; and he just carried me around all day everywhere, introduced me to all the profs and the fellows and helped me mark out my course. Tod Hopkins, you remember him, Jack; played halfback on our football team the first year we had it? Yes, sure! He’s in the university, a senior. Sure, he’s a senior; three years since he left here; and you better believe it was some help to me, too. A senior seems to know about everything, and be able to go everywhere and do anything. What he says goes, at least, that’s the way it is with Tod. Maybe he wasn’t glad to see me. Slapped me on the back, and introduced me to the football team. Told them I used to be the best high school quarterback he ever saw, and a lot of rubbish like that; and then he took me around to his frat house for dinner. It’s some house. You ought to see it. There’s an Oriental rug on that floor that must have cost thousands of dollars. It’s like that big
one we saw hanging up on the wall in the store, Jack. I’ll take you down to see it sometime.”
“You’ll take me down!” exclaimed his brother. “Did they give you free range of their frat house?”
Eugene looked proudly around at them.
“I’m as good as pledged,” he said radiantly. Then he caught a troubled look in Elsie’s eye. “Oh, you needn’t worry, Elsie, they don’t drink in this frat, not a one of them. They aren’t that kind. Tod’s president this year, and they’re mostly students that are working their way, and honor men. They’ve got a few rich ones, but they are all real men.”
“Is that why they took you in?” asked his brother dryly, albeit his eyes were shining appreciatively.
Gene laughed. He was too happy to mind his brother’s sarcasm.
“But how about your studies?” questioned Elsie anxiously. Surely Gene hadn’t spent his whole day getting in with the boys and going to a frat house!
“Oh, they’re all right”—as if he hadn’t thought to mention a minor detail like that. “I struck the dump just in time to catch Prexie and the dean. They wanted my credits; so I called up Higginson, our superintendent here in Morningside. I was lucky enough to find him home, too; and he talked to them over the phone, gave them a pretty good line of talk about me; said I was bright, and all that dope, and he was glad I had decided to go on with my studies—as if I ever studied much!—and Prexie took it all in, and said I could go ahead and not wait till the credits got there; it was all right. Tod took me round, and I got signed up. Tod knocked me down to some of the fellows in the freshman English and math.
“I’m taking the engineering course, you know; that’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Not for mine!” interrupted Jack. “No, sir! If I ever go to college, I’m going to specialize in chemistry. There’s big money in chemistry in the next few years, believe me.”
Elsie’s eyes shone, but she said nothing.
THE HONOR GIRL Page 12