GI Brides

by Grace Livingston Hill

  “Yes, well, Elaine,” said the lawyer with his offensively intimate tone, “that is valuable, of course, especially that reference to yourself, and the distress you seem to have caused her by asking for money. But there is no definite evidence. Nothing decisive enough. I will say, however, that there are three or four distinct sentences there that if elaborated upon somewhat, might prove to be just what we want. How good are you at imitating handwriting?”

  “Well,” said Elaine, “I used to be good at that sort of thing at school. They said I would make a great counterfeiter,” and she laughed excitedly. “What is it you want me to write? I used to try and imitate Mamma’s handwriting. I remember several times when I wrote excuses for absence from school and signed her name, and the teacher never knew the difference.”

  “Well, I should think you would be quite clever at this, then. Just the changing of a word here and there and the evidence is perfect. See here! There is plenty of room right there to make this read, ‘Her father wanted her to have this money.’ And where it says ‘it was her father’s wish,’ make it read ‘it was her mother’s wish.’ And then if you can insert on this line below, ‘It was her mother’s money left to her, my husband said before he died.’ Then down on this next vacant line, ‘My conscience will be clear if I give her some of it, and give the rest to my own child.’”

  The hot blood rolled over Lexie’s cheeks and receded, leaving her white and stricken as she listened to this perfidy, and she waited for her sister to reply, hoping against hope that Elaine would demur. But Elaine’s only answer to all this was a light laugh.

  “Is that all, Mr. Thomas? Why, that’s easy. And it doesn’t seem at all wrong. It just makes the meaning of what is written clearer, doesn’t it? But would just those little changes give you the evidence you want?”

  “Well, they certainly would make a great difference. But you must be careful to make the writing so like the rest that there will be no questioning it. Would it be possible, do you think, to use the same kind of ink? Would there be an old bottle of ink about that might have been used to write the rest of this little book?”

  “Why, yes, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if I could find some. In fact, I think I saw a bottle of ink standing on Mamma’s desk when I was looking through it for this book.”

  “That would be very good,” asserted the lawyer importantly. “But now, Elaine, you know, there is one very important matter still unsettled. You do not know definitely how much money is involved in this matter, nor where that money is located. I shall have to know that, of course, before I can be sure that it is worth my while to go deeply into this at all. You know there are expenses involved. This matter alone of hiring witnesses to prove these things. That takes plenty of money. And you haven’t given me any but the vaguest idea of how much money there will be when we get track of it.”

  “Oh, but I told you I was willing to give you ten percent of all that I get, regardless of how much it is,” said Elaine sweetly. “And I have always supposed that my mother’s estate that she left in trust for me was from thirty thousand dollars to perhaps seventy-five or a hundred thousand! That of course is what I have hired you to find out for me.

  “Well, but suppose the money cannot be found, or suppose it has been spent, you can sue my sister for it, can’t you?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose we can, provided we can prove beyond any doubt that the money was there when your father died, that it was in his wife’s trust and left entirely to you.”

  “Oh, but I’m sure it was,” said Elaine in her sweetest, most confident tone. “Of course I wouldn’t have sent for you if I hadn’t been entirely sure.”

  “But, my dear, why didn’t you look up these claims several years ago? I should have supposed you would have done so as soon as you were married, and while you had a husband to help in looking up your evidence.”

  “Oh, but you see I didn’t think of such things then. I had a husband to support me, and it didn’t occur to me that I would be left alone with three little children to support on simply nothing! But I’m sure you’ll be able to work this out, won’t you? You wrote me that you were sure you could.”

  “Why, yes of course, but again, Elaine, as I told you, it will cost you something to get witnesses to substantiate your claims. Well, now I think that is all for today, and I’m very glad you found this diary. If you will work these changes out as I suggested, and as quickly as possible, we will get right to work on the case. Of course, in case you find that your sister has spent all this money that ought to have been yours, has she any money or property that we can levy on?”

  “Oh yes, she has a part ownership in this house, or, that is, I believe she claims it is all hers, since she says her mother paid for it. Of course we know she didn’t. But if worse came to worst, we could claim on this house, couldn’t we?”

  “This house?” said the lawyer. “Why yes, I suppose so. But my dear, surely you know that this house would be a mere drop in the bucket when we are talking in terms of fifty or a hundred thousand dollars. You couldn’t possibly expect to get more than five or six thousand dollars out of this plain little house in this locality, you know. Seven thousand at the most.”

  “Oh, really? Is that all? But I always supposed this was a very valuable property indeed. My father used to say it was.”

  “Well, that a number of years ago, and property depreciates. But of course there would be other ways to get money out of your sister. If she had a job we could arrange that a certain percentage of her wages would be paid directly to you. There are ways to make such arrangements. However, that we can talk over later. And now I really must go. I am late for an appointment already. And you, my dear, will get right to work on that diary and make the changes, please. Bye-bye, and take care of yourself, darling!”

  Heavy footsteps went out the door and down the path to the street. At once the expensive engine began to turn and was soon on its way. The obnoxious lawyer was sped away out of sight.

  Lexie had waited during the talk, silent but boiling with rage, appalled at the lengths Elaine was willing to go to accomplish her ends, and wondering what she ought to do.

  Of course if Judge Foster was well, she would have carried the story at once to him. But since he was in the hospital, even if he was better, she must not worry him with her affairs now.

  But God! God was there! She could send a quick SOS for help from Him fully, and go each step as He seemed to direct.

  But now suddenly this interview had come to an end, and something must be done. She must decide just what she was going to do. She must be wary and careful. She must not let Elaine know just yet that she was at home nor that she had heard the interview between the lawyer and her sister. And yet she must contrive some way to get hold of that precious diary before Elaine could mutilate it in any way. However, that was something that would take time and thought to work out, and the first thing she must do was to see Cinda somewhere—out in the yard perhaps where Elaine could not hear them talking. And it wouldn’t be impossible for her to slip out the back door now without making a bit of noise, but she must attract Cinda’s attention before she left, for she must find out if anything more had happened. She also needed to find out if Cinda had heard this shameful talk between the lawyer and her sister.

  But before Lexie could make a move, she heard Cinda stamping out into the kitchen, making her footsteps sound as if they came from the cellar door and had not been near the dining room. Cinda was clever. She had come across that room so silently that not even a fly could have heard her. And when she saw Lexie, she lifted one eyebrow and winked one eye as if she had known all the time that Lexie was there. Had she? Dear old Cinda!

  So with a quick motion, Lexie covered the space between herself and the back door and crooked her finger at Cinda to follow. Cinda, without a sound beyond a slight nod of her head, rattled some pans on the stove and then slid out of the door into the backyard.

  They went out behind the old chicken house far enough
from the house so that their voices could not be heard.

  “Aw, but I’m glad to see you home!” said Cinda. “Such goin’s on as there has been! Did you hear all that stuff they was gettin’ off just now? How much did you hear? I didn’t hear you come in, but I was hopin’ you’d get in on some of it. And I was that glad when I got out here an’ saw you.”

  “I got in while the lawyer was reading the diary. Was there much before that?”

  “Not so much. Only he come in and told her she was havin’ ta pay somethin’ down or he couldn’t do anythin’. An’ then she cried an’ said she didn’t have much. She said she’d give him twenty-five dollars, but she had ta keep somethin’ ta live on till she got her fortune. Then he give in an’ said okay, he’d do it if she’d pay ten down, an’ the rest as she got it from the government. She cried a lot, but she give him the ten. I hid behind the portiere an’ seen her. An’ then she told him about the diary. It seems he put her up to lookin’ in the attic whilst you was gone, an’ he ast her a lot of questions about didn’t she find any deeds of property, ur any receipts of your ma havin’ paid any large sums to anybody, an’ she cried a lot more an’ sobbed out no, she hadn’t, an’ then he took the book an’ began to read. That musta been about the time you come in. I thought I heard a little click of the kitchen latch, but I didn’t dast move enough to look. I figure it was better I should hear the rest. But I’m mighty glad you came.”

  “Oh, so am I, Cinda! But if I only knew what I am to do now! I thought I had a friend to help me when I went away, a judge, a friend of my own daddy’s. He promised to help me, but when I tried to reach him after you telephoned, they said he was unconscious in the hospital from an automobile accident, and they weren’t even sure he was going to live.”

  “Now, ain’t that a shame, Miss Lexie! But don’t you worry none. I’ll stick by you, and something’ll turn up.”

  “Thank you, Cinda. I knew I could count on you. And now, there is one thing I’ve got to do, and that is to get that diary of Mother’s away from Elaine. I can’t have that tampered with!”

  “Of course not, Miss Lexie. And you can count on me for that. I can snoop around and find out what she does with it, and snitch it away somehow and hide it for you.”

  “Well, be careful, Cinda. You don’t want to get mixed up in this. That lawyer of hers can make trouble for anybody, and if he wants to he is capable of putting us all in jail.”

  “Don’t you worry about me, Miss Lexie. I didn’t cut me eyeteeth just yesterday. I can take care of meself. Now, go your ways, whatever that is, and I’ll keep a watch out. Where you going? To the store? Because you don’t need to today. She give me some ration cards an’ money an’ I went an’ bought her a steak. That was what she said she wanted. An’ I got plenty other things, butter and coffee and sugar, and some canned stuff and more vegetables. I figured it would be better to have some things on hand than to be continually having to run down to the store and leave them three babies to wander around alone without anybody to look after ’em. You might, however, get me a bit of cinnamon and ginger. There’s a can of pumpkin in the closet and I thought a pumpkin pie might come in handy, seein’s there’s some molasses that needs eatin’, so the ants won’t be prancin’ all over the shelf.”

  “All right, Cinda. I’ll get anything else you need. I’ve a little more money now, if Elaine didn’t give you enough. But I shan’t be gone long. I just want to telephone and find out about Judge Foster.”

  “Yes, you do that,” said Cinda understandingly. “If there’s anybody needs a good friend, I’d say it was you, and I guess the good Lord understands that, too. You might ask Him to see to that!”

  “Oh, I have, Cinda—all the way home! Oh Cinda, I’m glad you know Him, too.”

  “Well, I ain’t sayin’ how well I know Him, but I’ve always felt when it come to the last pinch that the Lord wouldn’t let me down. Now you run along, and I won’t let her know you’ve come back yet.”

  So Lexie hurried down to the drugstore to telephone to the judge’s office, hoping it wasn’t closing time yet. She wouldn’t feel free to telephone his house.

  She was greatly relieved to hear the cold-voiced secretary.

  “Oh, is this Judge Foster’s secretary?” she asked eagerly.

  “It is!” said the cold voice.

  “Well, I’m just the daughter of an old friend of his, and I’m calling to know how he is. Has he recovered consciousness yet? I’ve been so worried.”

  “Oh!” said the cold secretary, giving her voice a space in which to warm up a little. “Why yes, Judge Foster has recovered consciousness somewhat. That is, the doctor thinks he is a trifle better, and he has a chance to recover. Of course that is not certain yet, but it is more hopeful than yesterday.”

  “Oh, that is so good!” said Lexie, with tears in her voice. “I was so worried.”

  “Of course he won’t be able to talk with anyone, not now, nor probably for a long time.”

  “Of course,” said Lexie sadly. “But if you should have a chance when he is better, will you tell him Lexie Kendall sent him her love, and tell him—I’ve been praying for him.”

  The secretary evidently was embarrassed by the message.

  “Why yes, surely,” she said formally. “I’m sure he’ll be much pleased when he hears that. Suppose you give me your name and address. It’s my business to keep a record of all calls.”

  So Lexie gave her name and address, and turned sadly away from the telephone. Of course she hadn’t really expected that she would get even as good news as that he was a little better, but it saddened her to feel so utterly cut off from her only earthly friend, now in this new perplexity.

  Chapter 11

  Meanwhile, Cinda felt that this was her time to act. Great interests were at stake and she seemed to be the only one who could do anything about it. She resolved that she and she only would be responsible for securing that little diary book that seemed to be playing such an important part in these affairs.

  So Cinda prepared a delicious drink, a combination of grape juice and ginger ale and one or two other small spicy ingredients known only to herself. By this time she had arranged to have plenty of ice on hand, and the drink was cold and sparkling.

  Elaine was just about to settle down at the desk to experiment with the writing she was supposed to do in the little blue diary that lay closed before her on the desk, when Cinda entered bearing the drink.

  Cinda was all honey and smiles, with oily words.

  “Miss Elaine, my lady,” she said obsequiously, “I brought you a nice pleasant drink. I’m sure you’ll like it. It was always a favorite of my best patients, an’ this mornin’ when I went to the store I made out to get the ingredients so that you could try it. And now I thought, she’s tired, with all that discussion with her lawyer, an’ she oughtta lie right down an’ take a rest, so I’ll take her drink in to her and get her to drink it an’ then lie down on the bed in her quiet room an’ have a little sleep, an’ then she’ll feel real better. Now you go into your room, and I’ll draw the shades for ya and keep the childer real still when they come home an’ not let ’em bother. An’ when you wake up you’ll feel like a new woman.”

  This was Elaine’s language. She simply thrived on such talk.

  Graciously she accepted the glass, for she was thirsty and the frosty crystal tempted her after her hectic discussion with Bettinger Thomas.

  “Why, yes, this is really delicious, Cinda. I’ll have to get you to make some of this for me when I have callers,” she said.

  Oh, if Cinda could just keep up this line of talk, Elaine would be as putty in her hands, but Cinda was so raring mad inside that it was a question how long she could endure in honeyed tones. Still, Cinda realized the necessity for strategy, and she was ready to endure as long as the time required her services. Amazingly she was able to coax Elaine into her bedroom, making her lean on her arm as she led her there. She lowered her gently to the bed, threw a light blanket across he
r shoulders, adjusted the shades, opened a window where there was a pleasant breeze, and tiptoed out, closing the door after her gently.

  As she passed the desk she noted the little book that had figured so largely in the afternoon’s affairs. She moved with extraordinary stealth across the room. Her large, capable hand enveloped the small leather-bound book and swept it up under her apron, conveying it in safety into the outer kitchen. She secreted it, wrapped in a clean dish towel, down in the capacious pocket of Lexie’s coat that was bulked above her suitcase in the little laundry down on the far side of the laundry tub where Elaine would never in the world bother to go.

  With some satisfaction she turned to the kitchen and prepared an unusually fine supper for the silly dupe, who by this time must be sound asleep, as there came no sound at all from the bedroom where she had stowed her. Fortunately the children were making a victory garden with the children across the street, a neighboring daughter of the house having decided that something ought to be done with those children if the whole neighborhood was not to suffer. So she had set them all at something really worthwhile, and the children were greatly intrigued. It was probably the first time in their young lives that anyone had ever set them at something that was worth doing, and they liked it.

  But Cinda was thinking hard and fast. Something must be done with that book to make it impossible for Elaine to find it again. She didn’t understand just what all this trouble was about, but she was keen enough to know that something very crooked was about to be put over upon Lexie, and the book was a part of it all. So, having purloined the book, she didn’t intend to have her efforts fail.