GI Brides

by Grace Livingston Hill

  “You know,” she told Dale with one of her old-time twinkles that gave her such an endearing look, “those cousins of yours that have been anything but cousinly in their actions are liable to turn up as soon as they hear that I am gone, and they’ll do their best to search out anything that could possibly be interesting to them and make your life miserable if they think you want it, so it is best not to have anything around to make trouble for you.”

  Grandmother was always so thoughtful for everybody.

  But she must not think about that now. This was going to be a hard day, and she would not be able to get through it if she gave way to tears at this stage. At any moment those relatives might arrive—the telegram had said Tuesday—and she must not have traces of tears on her face. Oh, of course, tears were natural when one had lost a dear one, but she was in a position where she must be more than just another relative. She must carry out Grandmother’s plans. She must meet the cousins quietly and with some measure of poise. That would be the only way to offset any arrogance and desire to manage, on their part.

  Dale had not seen these relatives for years. Not since she was a small child, too young to be noticed by them. Young enough to be calmly swept aside for the pretty, spoiled cousin, Corliss, who had to have everything her little heart desired, even if it upset everybody else in the house. Corliss had taken great delight in making Dale the butt of all her tantrums. It was natural, therefore, that Dale did not look forward to the reunion with pleasure. Still, she told herself, perhaps she was not being fair in feeling this way. After all, it was a good many years ago, and Corliss had been only a baby then, some months younger than herself. There was a good chance that through the years Corliss might have changed and would perhaps be a charming young woman by this time; it might even be quite possible that they could be friends. Though from Grandmother’s description of her when she last saw her, Dale did not think so. Grandmother had at times given little word-sketches of her grandniece, witty and sarcastic but altogether good-natured. However, those sketches were clearly given in the way of warning, so Dale would not be taken unawares and thereby lose out.

  It was for that reason that Dale was dreading the arrival of these unknown relatives and had carried out the little details of Grandmother’s plans most meticulously, schooling herself to a calmness that she was far from feeling. Not until these relatives had come and gone could she relax and give attention to her own personal plans. By that time, perhaps, she would be used to the fact that the dear grandmother was gone and that from then on she was utterly on her own.

  She was interrupted in her troubled thoughts by the sound of the doorbell.

  Quickly assuming her habitual quiet demeanor, she hurried to the door, giving a worried glance toward the little stack of packages waiting for the expressman. Oh, if only it was him instead of the dreaded relatives. Then she opened the door and glimpsed with relief the express car parked by the curb.

  “Oh, you’ve come, Mr. Martin! I’m so glad! I do want to get these packages off on the first train.”

  The expressman grinned.

  “I told ya I’d come, didn’t I? I always keep my word when I can. Especially in a case like this where there’s a funeral. I always like to help out. Especially when it’s an old friend like Grandma Huntley. I know she ain’t here, but somehow I think where she is she’ll know.”

  Dale’s face lit tenderly. “Yes, I think she will,” she said softly.

  The old expressman got out a grubby handkerchief and blew his nose violently, then turned on his grin again. “Okay!” he said, pulling himself together. “Where’s yer packages?”

  “Oh yes. Right here by the dining room door. All of them.”

  “And you want these here things all prepaid, you said, didn’t you? Okay. You can stop by the office and settle the bill when you come downtown again. I’ll have ’em weighed and be ready for you.”

  Dale drew a breath of relief as she watched the truck drive away. Now, no matter when Aunt Blanche and Corliss came, there wouldn’t be anything for them to question about. Grandmother had made it quite plain that they would likely resent her giving anything away before they arrived, if there was any evidence around that it had been done.

  So Dale was free now to go about the arrangements for the day and her undesired guests, realizing that she was going to need great patience and strength before this visit was over.

  Hattie was in the kitchen, Dale knew. Dear old Hattie, who loved Grandmother so much and whose lifework from now on was merely to be transferred to the granddaughter whom Grandmother had loved so well.

  Hattie had had experience in former years with the coming relatives and would know how to deal with them. Grandmother had talked it all over with Hattie and prepared her, made sure that she fully understood and could arrange an adjustable firmness, with courtesy, so that no clashing would be necessary. But when Dale came into the kitchen and found Hattie standing disconsolately looking out the window into the kitchen garden, the old woman said sorrowfully, “I dunno, I dunno, Miss Dale! Grandma said I was to be real sweet and polite and not stir up no strife. But if you had knowed them people the way I did, you’d know that wasn’t just physically possible. I’d like to carry out your grandma’s wishes, an’ I’m sure I’ll do my best, but I know I can’t really do it. I’ve tried before and it didn’t work, and I don’t seem to believe it’ll work this time, but I’ll do my best.”

  “Why, of course you will, Hattie. You’ll be all right. And don’t you worry about it. If they say anything you don’t like, just put it aside and don’t think about it.”

  “Yes,” sighed Hattie, “that’s what Grandma advised me. She said I was to remember that the Lord was listening to me, and He would know what was going on and would be expecting me to act to please Him, not them.”

  “That’s right, Hattie,” said Dale with a little tender smile on her sweet lips.

  “Miss Dale, if that’s so, and the Lord can watch an’ see what I do, do you s’pose perhaps Grandma can see, too? If I thought she would be watching I could do a great deal better.”

  Dale smiled.

  “Why yes, Hattie, perhaps she will be able to see. I think it would help us both to think of her watching, and I’m sure the Lord will care and will be watching and be pleased if we do the right kindly thing.”

  “Okay, Miss Dale, I’ll remember that. I’ll do my best to please the Lord, and her!”

  It was a busy morning after that. There were orders to give, telephone calls to answer, telegrams and letters to read, and the dinner to plan for the possible guests that evening. There were callers to meet, old friends of Grandmother’s to talk to, a hundred and one questions to answer. The minister came to talk over the arrangements that Grandmother had made with him. There were flowers to receive and arrange for keeping, and there were tender, precious messages from friends. Everybody had loved Grandmother for years, and she was going to be greatly missed.

  Then suddenly, late in the afternoon, when the company dinner was beginning to give off delicious odors, there was a stir in the street, and a taxi pulled up at the door ostentatiously. They had come! The waiting was over.

  Dale cast a quick look out the door, caught a glimpse of a golden-haired, haughty girl with very red lips, and drew a deep breath to quiet the sudden thumping of her heart. She knew that it would not do to yield to excitement, for if she did there would be no poise and no quiet dignity in her meeting with her guests, and she must remember what Grandmother had desired.

  With another deep breath and a lifting of her heart for help above, she went to the door with the nearest to a real welcome in her eyes that she could summon. She came down the walk to the little old-fashioned white gate to meet them.

  Aunt Blanche was having an argument with the taxi driver about the fare and didn’t notice her at first, and Corliss, who was engaged in gazing around at the neighborhood, did not at first see her either.

  But finally the aunt finished her argument with a sharp bit of s
arcasm and flung herself out to stand on the pavement and look around.

  “Oh, is that you, Dale?” she said as she almost tripped over her niece. “Why, you’ve grown tall, haven’t you? I expected to find you short and fat the way you used to be.”

  Dale had been prepared to greet her aunt with a brief kiss, but it appeared the aunt had made no provision for such a salutation, so she contented herself with a brief handshake and turned to Corliss.

  But Corliss was standing there staring at her. Apparently for some reason she was not at all what Corliss had expected, and it required some adjusting of her preconceived ideas to help her correlate the facts. It had not yet entered her mind that any form of definite greeting would be required between them, so Corliss took no notice of Dale’s smile or the hand held out in greeting. She simply stared.

  And behind her loomed a boy whom she knew must be Corliss’s younger brother, Powelton. How cross he looked! Such frowning brows! She sensed on the boy’s lips the grim distaste for the errand on which they had come. She tried to reassure him by smiling, but he only summoned a wicked grin.

  Dale spoke pleasantly. “You are Powelton, aren’t you?” she said with real welcome in her voice. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby.”

  “Aw, ferget it!” said the insolent youth. “Just call me Pow. That’s what I prefer.”

  “Now, Powelton!” reproached his mother. “You promised me—”

  “Yes, I know, Mom,” said the boy, “but that was when you said there was going to be a lawyer here. You can’t make anything out of this little dump, I’m telling ya!”

  “Powelton! Be still! Driver, you can bring the luggage into the house.”

  “No ma’am, I can’t! I ain’t doing that no more. These is wartimes, and I can’t take the time to lug in suitcases. I put ’em on the sidewalk and you can lug ’em in yourself, or let that spoiled boy o’ yours do it. I gotta get back to the station. I’m overdue already.” And he started his car defiantly.

  “Oh, we can manage the luggage,” said Dale pleasantly, gathering up three of the smaller bags. “Come on, boys and girls; each of you gather up a handful and we’ll soon be all right.”

  The annoyed aunt stood in their midst and protested, but Dale had started on with her load of bags, and there was nothing for the rest to do but follow.

  As they came up the steps to the white doorway, the boy flicked his cap over the exquisite, delicate lilies that were fastened to the doorbell.

  “Why the weeds?” he said contemptuously, turning a sneering glance at Dale.

  “Oh, please don’t!” she said, planting herself in the way of a second thrust of the ruthless cap.

  “Well, of all the silly customs,” sneered the young man. “Mom, I wouldn’t stand for that if I were you. Tying a whole flower garden on the house we’re expected to stay in all night.”

  Dale took a deep breath and tried to summon a calm expression. “Take the suitcases into the living room,” she said quietly. “Put them right on the floor by the door and then we can easily sort them out for the different rooms.”

  “Okay!” said the lad disagreeably, and he dropped the luggage he was carrying and turned to walk into the living room and look around. “Some dump!” he commented disagreeably, casting a contemptuous look at the old steel engravings and ancestral portraits. He gave a semblance of a kick toward the fine old polished mahogany sofa with its well-preserved haircloth upholstery.

  But Dale paid no attention to him. She put down the bags she was carrying and hurried out to the walk to get more, though she noticed that nobody else was like-minded, for they were surging into the house and staring around.

  “Heavens, Moms,” said Corliss, “I don’t see what you wanted of a shanty like this! It really wasn’t worth coming all this way over for.”

  “No,” said Powelton, “it wouldn’t even make a good fire.”

  His mother cast a reproving look at him.

  “You’ll find it will sell for quite a tidy little sum,” said his mother. “You see, I didn’t come all this way over here without knowing plenty about the situation. I found there is a project on to build a large munitions factory right in this neighborhood, and a few strings properly pulled can make it possible for this place to be included in the center of things. A little judicious maneuvering will bring us in a good sum if we hold out just long enough.”

  Dale, coming in with the final load of bags, happened to overhear this last announcement, although her aunt thought she had lowered her voice. But Dale put down the baggage with no more sign than a quick pressure of her pleasant lips into a straight line.

  “Now,” she said, looking up at her aunt and endeavoring to speak pleasantly, “will you come upstairs, Aunt Blanche, and see what arrangements I have made for you? Perhaps Powelton will bring up the bags you want right away.”

  “Not I, my fair cousin,” responded the boy. “I’ve carried just all the bags I’m going to carry today.”

  But Dale thought it best to ignore that remark. Let his mother deal with her boy. It wasn’t her business. So she led the way upstairs.

  A straight, easy flight of broad, low steps led to a landing in a wide bay window, overlooking a pleasant landscape. The sun was just setting, and the scene was very lovely. But Dale was in no humor to pause or to call her aunt’s attention to the sky decked out in glory. She hurried up the stairs, trying to make her voice steady as she spoke. “I thought you would like the old room where you used to be when you last visited here.”

  “Oh! Indeed! I really don’t remember anything about it,” said the aunt in a chilly voice. “I’ll see what you have arranged and then take my choice; I’m rather particular about my surroundings.”

  Dale threw open the door at the head of the stairs and indicated the room within.

  “I hope you’ll be quite comfortable here,” she said as pleasantly as she could over the anger that made her voice tremble.

  The aunt cast a cold look over the pretty room with its starched muslin ruffles, its delicate old-fashioned china, and its polished mahogany.

  “Hm!” said the woman. “I don’t remember it. Have you anything else?”

  Anger rolled up in a crimson wave from Dale’s delicate throat and spread over her face, and for an instant she thought she was going to lose control of herself. She was being treated as if she were a servant in a rooming house. Then it suddenly came over her that Grandmother had drolly described what her daughter-in-law was like and given her clues to just such actions, and she caught her breath and gave a little light laugh.

  “Yes,” she said brightly. “I thought the next room would be nice for Corliss.”

  “Which one? That next door?” asked Corliss sharply. “No, I won’t have that. It only has one window! I want that room down at the far end of the hall. It looks out to the street, and I’m sure it’s much larger and sunnier.” She turned and sped toward the room she craved, and Dale caught her breath and cried out softly, “No! No, you couldn’t have that. That is Grandmother’s room.”

  “Nonsense!” said Corliss sharply. “What’s that got to do with it? I say I want that room.” And she hurried down the hall, her hand already on the doorknob before Dale could reach her, and she was only deterred from flinging open the door by the fact that it was locked. “What’s the meaning of this?” she almost screamed. “What right have you to lock the doors? I suppose you are keeping this room for yourself because it is the best room, obviously. Answer me! Why have you locked this door?”

  Dale was by her side now, and her voice was low and sweet as she answered gently, “Because Grandmother is lying in there.”

  Corliss let go of the doorknob as if it had been something terribly hot. She turned frightened eyes on her cousin.

  “What do you mean?” she almost screamed. “Do you mean that you have kept a dead person in the house and then let us come here to stay? Why, how perfectly gruesome! I think that is ghastly! I couldn’t think of staying in the house, going to sleep,
with a dead person in the next room. I should go mad! Mother, are you going to allow this to go on? I won’t sleep here. I simply won’t. Not with a dead woman in the house. You’ll have to do something about it!”

  Then Aunt Blanche came forward.

  “Dale, you don’t mean that Grandmother’s body has not been taken to the undertaker’s yet? Why, I cannot understand such negligence. Who arranged all this anyway? Did you, a young girl, presume to do it?”

  “No, Aunt Blanche, Grandmother made all the arrangements. She said she wanted to stay here till she was taken to her final resting place, and she sent for the undertaker herself and made all the arrangements.”

  “How horrible!” said the aunt. “Well, it’s evident we shall have to get another undertaker and have the body taken away at once. We can’t let this go on. Corliss is a very nervous, temperamental child. The doctor says she must not be excited unduly. Suppose you call up another undertaker, and I will talk with him and have this thing fixed. We’ll have the funeral in some funeral parlor. I somehow knew I should have come yesterday.”

  But Dale stood quite still and looked at her aunt. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Aunt Blanche, but it will be impossible to change the arrangements.”

  “Nonsense! Leave it to me. I’ll cancel the arrangements quick enough. I’ll just tell the man we’ll not pay him, and he’ll get out quick enough.”

  “He is paid, Aunt Blanche. Grandmother paid him herself. She wanted to save us from having any trouble at the end, she said.”

  The aunt turned a face of frozen indignation. “All paid! How ridiculous! Grandmother must have been quite crazy at the end. She had no right to do this. I shall refuse to let this house be used for the service.”

  “I’m afraid you wouldn’t have the right to do that, Aunt Blanche.”

  “Not have the right? What do you mean? The house will of course eventually be mine. I certainly have the right to do what I will with my own property, and I do not intend to have any funeral here to spoil the sale of the house. You see, I have found a purchaser for it already. Someone I met on the train, and he’s coming here tomorrow morning to look the house over. We certainly can’t let him see a funeral and dead people here. He would never want to buy it under those circumstances, so gruesome.”