Where There's a Will

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

  CHAPTER XXII

  HOME TO ROOST

  I couldn't stand any more. It was all over! I rushed to my room andthrew myself on the bed. At two-thirty I heard the bus come to theporte-cochere under my window and then drive away; that was the laststraw. I put a pillow over my head so nobody could hear me, and then andthere I had hysterics. I knew I was having them, and I wasn't ashamed.I'd have exploded if I hadn't. And then somebody jerked the pillow awayand I looked up, with my eyes swollen almost shut, and it was DoctorBarnes. He had a glass of water in his hand and he held it right aboveme.

  "One more yell," he said, "and it goes over you!"

  I lay there staring up at him, and then I knew what a fright I looked,and although I couldn't speak yet, I reached up and felt for myhairpins.

  "That's better," he said, putting down the glass. "Another ten minutesof that and you'd have burst a blood vessel. Don't worry. I know I haveno business here, but I anticipated something of this kind, and it mayinterest you to know that I've been outside in the hall since the firstwhoop. It's been a good safety-valve."

  I sat up and stared at him. I could hardly see out of my eyes. He hadhis back to the light, but I could tell that he had a cross of adhesiveplaster on his cheek and that one eye was almost shut. He smiled when hesaw my expression.

  "It's the temperament," he said. "It goes with the hair. I've got ittoo, only I'm apt to go out and pick a fight at such times, and a womanhasn't got that outlet. As you see, I found Mike, and my disfigurementis to Mike's as starlight to the noonday glare. Come and take a walk."

  I shook my head, but he took my arm and pulled me off the bed.

  "You come for a walk!" he said. "I'll wait in the hall until you powderyour nose. You look like a fire that's been put out by a rain-storm."

  I didn't want to go, but anything was better than sitting in the roommoping. I put on my jacket and Miss Patty's chinchillas, which cheeredme a little, but as we went downstairs the quiet of the place sat on mychest like a weight.

  The lower hall was empty. A new card headed "Rules" hung on the doorinto the private office, but I did not read it. What was the use ofrules without people to disobey them? Mrs. Moody had forgotten hercrocheting bag and it hung on the back of a chair. I had to bite my lipto keep it from trembling again.

  "The Jenningses are still here," said the doctor. "The old man is madderthan any hornet ever dared be, and they go in the morning. But thesituation was too much for our German friend. He left with the others."

  Well, we went out and I took the path I knew best, which was out towardthe spring-house. There wasn't a soul in sight. The place looked lonely,with the trees hung with snow, and arching over the board walk. At thelittle bridge over the creek Doctor Barnes stopped, and leaning over therail, took a good look at me.

  "When you self-contained women go to pieces," he said, "you pretty nearsmash, don't you? You look as if you'd had a death in your family."

  "This WAS my family," I half sniveled.

  "But," he said, "you'll be getting married and having a home of your ownand forgetting all about this."

  He looked at me with his sharp eyes. "There's probably some nice chap inthe village, eh?"

  I shook my head. I had just caught sight of the broken pieces of theMoody water-pitcher on the ice below.

  "No nice young man!" he remarked. "Not the telegraph operator, or thefellow who runs the livery-stable--I've forgotten his name."

  "Look here," I turned on him, "if you're talking all this nonsense tokeep my mind off things, you needn't."

  "I'm not," he said. "I'm asking for the sake of my own mind, but we'llnot bother about that now. We'd better start back."

  It was still snowing, although not so hard. The air had done me somegood, but the lump in my throat seemed to have gone to my chest. Thedoctor helped me along, for the snow was drifting, and when he saw I waspast the crying stage he went back to what we were both thinking about.

  "Old Pierce is right," he said. "Remember, Miss Minnie, I've nothingagainst you or your mineral spring; in fact, I'm strong for you both.But while I'm out of the ring now for good--I don't mind saying to youwhat I said to Pierce, that the only thing that gets into training here,as far as I can see, is a fellow's pocketbook."

  We went back to the house and I straightened the news stand, AmandaKing having taken a violent toothache as a result of the excitement.The Jenningses were packing to go, and Miss Summers had got a bottle ofperoxide and shut herself in her room. At six o'clock Tillie beckonedto me from the door of the officers' dining-room and said she'd put thebasket in the snow by the grape arbor. I got ready, with a heavy heart,to take it out. I had forgotten all about their dinner, for one thing,and I had to carry bad news.

  But Mr. Pierce had been there before me. I saw tracks in the fresh snow,for, praise heaven! it had snowed all that week and our printswere filled up almost as fast as we made them. When I got to theshelter-house it was in a wild state of excitement. Mrs. Dick, with hercheeks flushed, had gathered all her things on the cot and was rollingthem up in sheets and newspapers. But Mr. Dick was sitting on the boxin front of the fire with his curly hair standing every way. He had beenroasting potatoes, and as I opened the door, he picked one up and pokedat it to see if it was done.

  "Damn!" he said, and dropped it.

  Mrs. Dick sat on the cot rolling up a pink ribbon and looked at him.

  "If you want to know exactly my reason for insisting on moving to-night,I'll tell you," she said, paying no attention to me. "It is yourdisposition."

  He didn't say anything, but he put his foot on the potato and smashedit.

  "If I had to be shut in here with you one more day," she went on, "I'dhate you."

  "Why the one more day?" he asked, without looking up.

  But she didn't answer him. She was in the worst kind of a temper; shethrew the ribbon down, and coming over, lifted the lid of my basket andlooked in.

  "Ham again!" she exclaimed ungratefully. "Thanks so much for rememberingus, Minnie. I dare say our dinner to-day slipped your mind!"

  "I wonder if it strikes you, Minnie," Mr. Dick said, noticing me forthe first time, "that if you and Sam hadn't been so confounded meddling,that fellow Pierce would be washing buggies in the village livery-stablewhere he belongs, and I'd be in one piece of property that's as good asgone this minute."

  "Egg salad and cheese!" said Mrs. Dick. "I'm sick of cheese. If that'sthe kind of supper you've been serving--"

  But I was in a bad humor, anyhow, and I'd had enough. I stood justinside the door and I told them I'd done the best I could, not for them,but because I'd promised the old doctor, and if I'd made mistakes I'danswer for them to him if I ever met him in the next world. And in themeantime I washed my hands of the whole thing, and they might make outas best they could. I was going.

  Mrs. Dick heard me through. Then she came over and put her hand on minewhere it lay on the table.

  "You're perfectly right," she said. "I know how you have tried, and thatthe fault is all that wretched Pierce's. You mustn't mind Mr. Carter,Minnie. He's been in that sort of humor all day."

  He looked at her with the most miserable face I ever saw, but he didn'tsay anything. She sighed, the little wretch.

  "We've all made mistakes," she said, "and not the least was my thinkingthat I--well, never mind. I dare say we will manage somehow."

  He got up then, his face twisted with misery.

  "Say it," he said. "You hate me; you shiver if I touch your hand--oh,I'm not very keen, but I saw that."

  "The remedy for that is very, simple," she replied coolly. "You needn'ttouch my hand."

  "Stop!" I snapped. "Just stop before you say something you'll be sorryfor. Of course, you hate each other. It beats me, anyhow, why two peoplewho get married always want to get away by themselves until they're sosick of each other that they don't get over it the rest of theirlives. The only sensible honeymoon I ever heard of was when one of thechambermaids here married a farmer in the neighborhood. It was harvest
and he couldn't leave, so she went ALONE to see her folks and she saidit beat having him along all hollow."

  She was setting out the supper, putting things down with a bang. Hedidn't move, although he must have been starving.

  "Another thing I'd advise," I said. "Eat first and talk after. You'llsee things different after you've got something in your stomach."

  "I wish you wouldn't meddle, Minnie!" she snapped, and having put downher own plate and knife and fork, not laying a place for him, she wentover and tried to get one of the potatoes from the fire.

  Well, she burnt her finger, or pretended to, and I guess her solutionwas as good as mine, for she began to cry, and when I left he was tyingit up with a bit of his handkerchief; if she shivered when he kissed itI didn't notice it. They were to come up to the house after her fatherleft in the morning, and I was to dismiss all the old help and get newones so he could take charge and let Mr. Pierce go.

  I plodded back with my empty basket. I had only one clear thought,--thatI wouldn't have any more tramping across the golf links in the snow. Iwas too tired really to care that with the regular winter boarders goneand eight weeks still until Lent, we'd hardly be able to keep goinganother fortnight. I wanted to get back to my room and go to bed andforget.

  But as I came near the house I saw Mr. Pierce come out on the frontpiazza and switch on the lights. He stood there looking out into thesnow, and the next minute I saw why. Coming up the hill and across thelawn was a shadowy line of people, black against the white. They werenot speaking, and they moved without noise over the snow. I thought fora minute that my brain had gone wrong; then the first figure came intothe light, and it was the bishop. He stood at the front of the steps andlooked up at Mr. Pierce.

  "I dare say," he said, trying to look easy, "that this is sooner thanyou expected us!"

  Mr. Pierce looked down at the crowd. Then he smiled, a growing smilethat ended in a grin.

  "On the contrary," he said, "I've been expecting you for an hour ormore."

  The procession began to move gloomily up the steps. All of them carriedhand luggage, and they looked tired and sheepish Miss Cobb stopped infront of Mr. Pierce.

  "Do you mean to say," she demanded furiously, "that you knew therailroad was blocked with snow, and yet you let us go!"

  "On the contrary, Miss Cobb," he said politely, "I remember distinctlyregretting that you insisted on going. Besides, there was the ShermanHouse."

  Senator Briggs {sic} stopped in front of him. "Probably you also knewthat THAT was full, including the stables, with people from the stalledtrains," he asserted furiously.

  Two by two they went in and through the hall, stamping the snow off, andup to their old rooms again, leaving Slocum, the clerk, staring at themas if he couldn't believe his eyes.

  Mr. Pierce and I watched from the piazza, through the glass.

  We saw Doctor Barnes stop and look, and then go and hang over the newsstand and laugh himself almost purple, and we saw Mr. Thoburn bringingup the tail of the procession and trying to look unconcerned. I am not arevengeful woman, but that was one of the happiest moments of my life.

  Doctor Barnes turned suddenly, and catching me by the arm, whirled mearound and around, singing wildly something about Noah and "the animalswent in two by, two, the elephant and the kangaroo."

  He stopped as suddenly as he began and walked me to the door again.

  "We've got 'em in the ark," he said, "but I'm thinking this forty daysof snow is nearly over, Minnie. I don't think much of the dove and theolive-branch, but WE'VE GOT TO KEEP THEM."

  "It's against the law," I quavered.

  "Nonsense!" he said. "We've got to make 'em WANT to stay!"