“Why, they’re mere babies, all but Angelica, and they don’t know the way anywhere yet. You better not count on that. They are across the road playing with a neighbor’s children, but I hear them fighting. I suppose I ought to go and get them, and introduce them to you, but I’m afraid they’ll bother you a lot while you’re trying to work.”
“That don’t make any matter. I’m here to work, and to stand what’s to stand. You run along and I’ll make out. Don’t bother about the children. They’ll turn up. If they don’t, I’ll go hunt ’em. And you needn’t bother to wake up that Elaine. Leave her lay an’ sleep. I’ll interjuice meself, and mebbe it’ll be that much better fer results. Got any lemons here? I’ll make her a nice cold drink. Too bad you haven’t got any ice. But we’ll manage. You run along. Here! I’ll get those coupons for you before I go down.”
Very quietly they went downstairs, and Elaine was either still asleep or simulating it very well.
Lucinda stood for an instant in the doorway looking keenly toward the invalid, and then with nodding head and set lips went her way, following Lexie to the kitchen. Lexie showed her all the meagre stores, whispered a moment with her, and then caught up her hat and coat left on a chair in a convenient shadowed corner and went out.
She did not go out the front gate nor take their street, but crossed the back fence into the fields and got herself down to the drugstore without the danger of Elaine’s discovering she was going out. She certainly didn’t want Elaine to know about this interview with Judge Foster. It would bring on a tirade she was certain.
Lexie thought she was far ahead of the time named, but she had scarcely reached the corner next to the drugstore when she saw the judge’s car coming from the opposite direction and drawing up to the curb.
She hadn’t been at all sure she would know him, for it had been a number of years since she had seen him. But when he swung out of the car and glanced around him and toward the store, she knew him at once. She ran toward him just as she used to do when she was a little girl downtown with her father, running to greet her father’s friend.
Oh, the judge’s hair was a little whiter, and the fine lines around his eyes were graved a little deeper, but there was the same keen twinkle in the wise blue eyes, the same kindly look about the strong, smiling lips.
He whirled to look at her, and the smile beamed out.
“Little Lexie!” he exclaimed, reaching out a hearty hand to grasp hers. “You haven’t changed a mite, only grown a little taller! Hop in, little girl, and let’s get on our way. This is a beautiful day, and I’m anticipating a pleasant ride. I’m sorry it had to be your troubles that brought us together, but I’m mighty glad to be in touch with you again. And now, suppose we get the business out of the way first, and then we can really enjoy our ride. Suppose you begin at the beginning and tell me the whole story. Begin when your mother died, and tell me what you have been doing since.”
So Lexie told her simple story, and the wise old man watched her, studying her lovely expression as she talked.
When she came to her college life, he asked a few questions that put her whole present situation before him. Working her way through by doing little menial tasks here and there, and now and then tutoring some other student. She told it all most briefly, answering the judge’s questions in a few words, and hastened on to the main issue, the story of Elaine’s arrival with her three children just as she herself was about to leave to go back to college, and then the amazing claim of her sister, and her demand for money.
Very carefully now she answered every question the judge put to her and then settled back in the car.
“That’s all,” she said with a troubled sigh. “Now, what shall I do? I meant to go back to college today at the latest, but I had to stay till Lucinda came. She wouldn’t have known where things were nor what to do. I knew I could trust Lucinda, but she had to understand.”
“I see! That was wise. And now, you say she has come?”
“Yes, she came just a few minutes ago.”
“And how did Elaine take it?”
“She’s still asleep, or seems to be. She doesn’t know I’ve gone away. I slipped out the back door and across the fields.”
“Good girl! And now, let’s see about this money business. You’re right, my dear. Your father didn’t leave any money at all, not that I know of. Your mother finished paying for the little house you own. That’s right, isn’t it? I thought so. I have all the papers that showed what your mother spent since your father died. She took great care to send me everything, as it came on the calendar, and I have kept them all together in a safe-deposit box, so they are safe and can be used in court if they should ever be required. But really, my dear, I don’t believe it will ever come to that. I think if it seems to be getting that far I will have a little talk with that rascal of a lawyer your sister has secured, and show him just where he can get off. I know he is a rascal, and I know too many things about what he has done to trust him for one minute. Of course he is very tricky, but he probably has been made to feel that there is some large sum of money involved, or he never would have wasted his precious time monkeying with it. Has your sister by any means told him how much she thinks is involved in this case?”
“I’m afraid she has,” said Lexie with trouble in her eyes. “But I don’t know how much she is claiming. She seems to think I have it hidden away somewhere and am using it for myself. They are going to sue me for it, and he has done his best to make me own up to whatever he says. He even told Elaine that if I kept on refusing to talk, the quickest way to make me tell the truth would be to have me arrested and regularly charge me with being a party to the theft. He said that would bring me to terms quicker than anything he knew.”
“Yes,” said the judge gravely, “that sounds like his tactics. But, my dear, there is a great deal of boasting about that. I scarcely think he would try a thing like that with you. However, we’ll take steps to make that thing impossible. And now, my dear, if I were you I would go to college right away. Tonight, if there is a train, or certainly tomorrow morning, and see what arrangements you can make there, in case your sister is really as ill as she makes out and you find you have to be at home for a time. But anyhow I would go at once and get what matters you have to attend to out there in shape, so you will be ready for any emergency. Perhaps that, too, will avert a clash about this maid you think she won’t like. If she is sick she’ll have to accept whatever services she has till she can get in touch with you again. And meantime you can put your business in order so you can return if necessary.”
“Oh,” said Lexie with relief. “You think I have a right to go? You think my father and mother wouldn’t blame me for running off and leaving Elaine sick? And all her naughty little children to be looked out for by a woman who couldn’t possibly love them enough to make it really pleasant for them?”
“Yes, I think you are right to go and get your affairs arranged. I think Elaine needs to understand you have to. I certainly think your mother and father would want you to do this. Maybe you can’t stay there, of course, but if not, there may be some way for you to go on studying and run back a few days for examinations. That can probably be arranged. And about your job, well, I don’t know. I might be able to get that work transferred to this vicinity. And again, I might be able to offer you something even better in my office. It depends on the movements of the woman who is now my secretary. I might let you take over later. However, we will look into this and see how things come out. Certainly I won’t let you down, my dear.”
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” said Lexie wistfully. “But I never have had experience as a secretary. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be worth much to you.”
The judge looked at her with a kindly smile.
“Don’t worry! I fancy you could learn, and I often have more than one secretary. Now, here we are at the house where I have to stop. I’ll let you sit in the car and wait if you don’t mind. There are a few magazines in the backseat. Help yourself
. And I won’t be any longer than I can help.”
But Lexie did not spend any time reading magazines. She had too much to think about, too much to be thankful for in that she had found her father’s old friend and he was so inclined to be helpful. She sat still and thought her way ahead.
She decided not to tell Elaine anything about Judge Foster. She was sure she would immediately tell Bett Thomas, and there was no telling how he might involve Judge Foster. She must move as cautiously as possible.
But anyway she would have to see what had happened during her absence before she decided definitely what she would do. It was rather late for her to get the night train of course. But if she could slip off in the morning before Elaine was awake, it certainly would be easier. That would have to depend largely on whether there had been a terrible eruption between Lucinda and Elaine. If there had, and Cinda refused to stay, she would have to wait and make some other arrangement, but she hoped she had made the woman understand how necessary she was to her plans, at least for a few days.
But as she neared the house she began to have an uneasy fear of what might have happened while she was away. Oh, what should she do if Elaine had sent Cinda away? There wasn’t anybody, not anybody that Lexie knew of who would be willing to come as Cinda had, without pay, and who would stand Elaine’s imperiousness even temporarily, like Cinda.
So as she bade Judge Foster good-bye, and promised to let him know at once how things came out, a shadow was beginning to creep into her eyes and a worry into her heart.
Chapter 9
Lucinda was in the kitchen beating up biscuits with some prepared flour she found among Lexie’s purchases. That didn’t take shortening, of which there was as yet none in the house, and it would provide something more interesting than the continual diet of dry toast without butter. She was trying to think what she could make that would be tasty and take the place of meat, which of course had not been purchased yet. Then suddenly she discovered a package of spaghetti and cheese preparation that ought to make an attractive dish. If Elaine didn’t happen to like it, why, that was just too bad. It was the best she could do. But she hastened to make a pitcher of good strong lemonade. It didn’t take much sugar, and would be heartening for an invalid perhaps—if she really was an invalid, Cinda had her doubts. She knew Elaine of old.
She wished, as she finished stirring the concoction, that she had some ice, considered going to the neighbor’s to beg a tiny piece and decided against it. Instead she wet an old napkin and folded it about the pitcher setting it in the open window where there was a good breeze. Give it a little time in that breeze and the evaporation from the wet cloth would make the lemonade almost as cold as if it were iced.
Then she set about preparing the table as if she were expecting a real dinner with all the fixings. There was lettuce. There were apples and nuts, a little jar of mayonnaise dressing, and some cottage cheese, too. She could make a fine salad with those. Even a raisin or two might be added to give it character. Cinda tramped quietly about that little kitchen quite pleased with herself, thankful that the children had not yet appeared. Although she was not unmindful of them, and prepared three little jelly tarts for them when they should arrive.
The tarts were in the oven baking when Cinda heard a sharp call:
“Lexie! What on earth are you doing out there in the kitchen so long? Aren’t you ever coming in to see me? Do you realize that I haven’t had a mouthful to eat since breakfast? Lexie! Where are you! Why don’t you answer me?”
“Coming!” sang out Cinda in as good an imitation of Lexie’s voice as she could manage. She stepped to the window, flung off the napkin from around the pitcher, placed it on the tray already prepared, with a couple of vanilla wafers on the thin old china plate beside the pretty crystal glass. Then she tramped into the living room bearing her offering.
Elaine looked up startled.
“Oh! Who are you?” she said coldly. “And where is my sister? Didn’t she hear me call her?”
Cinda drew up a little table to the couch and laid her tray upon it quite within reach of the invalid. Then she poured a nice glass of lemonade into the glass from the frosty pitcher before she answered.
“Why, I’m the new nurse,” she said pleasantly—more pleasantly than she felt. “Your sister had to go on some errands. She’ll be back in a little while. You can tell me anything you want done.”
“Oh! Indeed!” said Elaine. “You’re the nurse, are you? Where’s your uniform? I like my nurses to wear their uniforms. I’m very particular about that. Which hospital do you come from?”
Cinda looked the younger woman down, contempt beginning to dawn in her eyes until suddenly she remembered her promise to Lexie, and what she said in her heart, too! She lifted her belligerent chin proudly and spoke in honeyed tones.
“I’m not from no hospital. I’m just a private nurse. And very special! I been on duty too long to be dependent on hospitals and agencies and the like. And I don’t hold with wearing uniforms fer everyday work, especially in small houses. I think they’re out of place and too pretentious. A uniform’s all right if you don’t do nothin’ but nurse, but if ya havta cook some, and look after the family, it makes too much work to be washing uniforms all the time. Me, I didn’t bring me uniforms with me. I didn’t think they’d fit the job. Not unless there’s two or three servants to help with the work. Is that drink cold enough? Sorry I didn’t have ice, but ya see, we haven’t got—that is to say, organized yet—and I understand the ice men don’t come around every day during these wartimes. It’s awful, ain’t it, what we havta put up with, but then it’s war, and we gotta be patriotic. Is there sugar enough in the glass? I didn’t dast use too much because I wasn’t sure just when yer ration card would come through, an’ I wouldn’t want ya to be without sugar in yer tea. Could I be gettin’ anything else fer ya?”
Elaine turned and looked at the woman.
“Haven’t I seen you before?” she said. “What’s your name?”
It was just at that moment that Lexie arrived at the back door, and Cinda turned and hurried away.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I think I hear somebody at the kitchen door,” and she vanished from the room, leaving Elaine’s question hanging in midair.
Then Lexie breezed in quietly and pleasantly, bearing in her countenance enough of the cheer from her hour with the judge to give her an appearance of authority.
“Oh Elaine,” she said in an interested tone, “you’ve had a nice long sleep, haven’t you? Do you feel better? I hope you do, and that you’re going to be able to eat a little supper. You’ve scarcely eaten a thing since you came.”
“There hasn’t been anything fit to eat!” said Elaine grumpily. “It does seem to me that you had time enough after my telegram arrived to get some decent food in the house, when I took all that trouble to let you know I was coming.”
Lexie drew a deep breath and tried to smile.
“Sorry, Elaine, but I didn’t dare do anything about it until I was sure you were going to stay more than an hour or two. I didn’t think you would be satisfied with a closed-up house and everything packed away, and I thought it best to wait till I could talk to you about it. You see, I didn’t understand that you would feel you had to stay here when you found that I was not living here.”
“No,” said Elaine. “I didn’t figure on anything like that, but I knew you would have to stop college when I got here and you found what you were up against.”
“I see,” said Lexie, refusing to argue the matter. “Well, now suppose we put the matter aside and try to see what we can make out of things as they are. It really isn’t worthwhile to argue about it. Are you ready for something to eat yet, or do you want me to go and get the children? It seems they must be tired and hungry by this time, and I think the new nurse has dinner almost ready, if I may judge by the nice pleasant odors that are filling the house. I think I’d better go out and see if she found everything, or maybe needs my help in anything. I’ll look for the
children, too, and bring them back with me. I’ll be back in a minute!” And Lexie vanished, not heeding her sister’s fretful, insistent call.
She soon came back with the three children trooping after her and escorted them to the dining room, where their mother heard them clamoring happily that they wanted “some o’ that, an’ that, an’ a lot of real honey.” Real honey in a honeycomb, Lexie had bought the last time she went to the store, and it went well with the hot biscuits Cinda had made and the milk that filled their glasses.
So Elaine called in vain for her sister, and finally started to rise and find out why Lexie didn’t answer her call, but came face-to-face with Cinda and such a tempting-looking tray that she suffered herself to be arranged with a table by her side and a napkin tucked in at her neck and a plate put within her reach. There was a cup of real coffee filling the room with its delicate aroma. For Cinda had some precious coffee from her own rationing, which she had brought with her, and had used a tiny bit of it to “work her lady” as she told herself grimly. She wanted with all her might to help Lexie, brave little Lexie, and she determined if good food and giving up her own cup of coffee now and then would help, she would do it. Lexie wasn’t going to be the only one to sacrifice.
So Elaine ate her supper quiet, interestedly, and Lexie and the children ate theirs in comparative peace, save for the gossip that Angelica and Gerald retailed from time to time, concerning the misdeeds of “that bad old lawyer” who had come to see their mother that morning and of whom they had that afternoon overheard not a little that was not intended for their ears.
But Lexie managed those children into bed very soon, for they were really tired from hard play, climbing trees and digging in gardens where they shouldn’t have been, and piling wood by other people’s back doors where it wasn’t intended to be. They were tired and dirty. So Lexie, tired as she was, managed a bath apiece and got them into bed, one at a time, and they were very soon all three sound asleep. The mother none the wiser. Perhaps that was one secret of their subjection, for they and their mother did not seem to get on at all well together.
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