GI Brides

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GI Brides Page 32

by Grace Livingston Hill


  But the relatives at the dining table were anything but happy. “No orange juice! Just three measly little pears!” said Corliss.

  The aunt rang the bell, and Hattie appeared in a leisurely manner.

  “You’ve forgotten the orange juice,” said the aunt sharply.

  “There aren’t any oranges,” said Hattie grimly. “You’ll have to make out with them pears.”

  “I just hate pears,” said Corliss with her face all snarled up.

  “Well,” said the aunt, “you may bring the rest of the breakfast.”

  “That’s all there is this morning,” said Hattie, with a sort of triumphant note in her voice and a finality that appropriately preceded the closing of the kitchen door.

  “Well really!” said the aunt, surveying the table with its neat and ample pile of toast in front of the glowing toaster where it would keep hot, the small portion of butter at each plate, and the glass dish of blackberry jam. “Well, what’s the idea? It seems we are being put on rations. I should think it was time Dale took a little thought for running her house. She certainly can’t expect that inefficient Hattie to do it all. And no cream, either. That’s all nonsense. They ought to take more milk then and skim the tops off all the bottles. And oatmeal! The idea! How could anybody possibly eat that old-fashioned stuff? And without cream! Wait! I’ll ring for some dry cereal. That would at least be tolerable.”

  But when Hattie finally decided to answer the summons, she vouchsafed that all the dry cereal was finished and that was one of the things Miss Dale had gone after.

  “Well then, we’ll wait till she returns. We can’t possibly eat oatmeal, and certainly not without cream.”

  “She said she wouldn’t be back in time. She said as how you were expecting some lawyer. Oatmeal ain’t as bad! Even without cream. Some eats it with butter! You better try it. It’s pipin’ hot, and butter tastes very good.”

  “I really couldn’t endure the thought,” said the lady. “Butter on oatmeal! I really think that I shall have to hunt a place to board while I am obliged to stay here on business. I wonder if you can tell me who in the neighborhood takes boarders. How about that house over across on the opposite corner? That large house with stone pillars. That looks like a pleasant place. Perhaps they could be persuaded to let us board there. You wouldn’t know what they charge, would you?”

  “What, that mansion over there? Not they. They’s quality folks and they’d drive you off the place if you dared suggest such a thing. Why, they’s an old family. No ma’am, there ain’t anybody around these parts takes boarders. They’s just private families, and most of um’s pretty well fixed for theirselves. You’d have to go down in the village to get board. I believe there’s a room or two over the drugstore and the grocery, with mebbe a kitchenette where you could do light housekeepin’, if you wanted that.”

  “Mercy no!” said the aunt with disgust.

  “I should say not!” said Corliss with contempt.

  Hattie made good her retreat to the kitchen and left the unhappy breakfasters to finish everything edible within sight.

  Mr. Granniss was on the front porch reading the paper when Dale got back to the house, and she sighed with relief as she recognized him. Now, whatever happened, he would be there to answer her questions.

  Mr. Buffington drove up in his limousine a few moments later and requested to see his client alone, so Dale ushered him into the living room and went back to talk to Mr. Grannis on the porch. But Mr. Buffington’s voice was loud and penetrating, and most of his conversation came booming through the open windows, so they were well informed about the position of the relatives before he left. The gist of the whole matter seemed to have resolved itself in Lawyer Buffington’s mind into the fact that there was so far nothing to prove that Mrs. Huntley’s claims about the property had any foundation and that unless she could go home at once, or at least telephone her lawyer, and get hold of letters showing that her dead husband had ever put money into the purchase of the house in question, he did not see how he could possibly undertake the case. Of course if she insisted, he might undertake it, but the expense of the matter would be greater and the retaining fee would be doubled.

  Listening, Dale took heart. Perhaps God was going to answer her prayer this way, but she must not think too much about it, nor get her plans made for their going away. There was no telling what her aunt would finally do.

  It almost seemed as if Mr. Granniss had read her thoughts, for he began to talk about her plans for the little school she was thinking of starting and suggested that it might be good to arrange a definite date for its opening and tell her aunt that she would need the house from that time on.

  Then suddenly the talk in the living room ceased. The pompous lawyer came out and went away. With a few low-spoken words promising to be ready to help in any need that might arise, Mr. Granniss also went away.

  And now what ought she do next? Would God show the way?

  And then the future, as if in answer to her thoughts, began to open up before her.

  Her aunt appeared in the doorway and looked out, saying coldly, “I should like to use your telephone. It will be a long-distance call and may take some time. I thought I better ask you if you have any immediate necessary calls first, because I cannot be interrupted once I begin.”

  Dale looked up pleasantly, wondering what was coming. “Why certainly, Aunt Blanche. Use the phone as long as necessary. I won’t interrupt you,” she said cordially.

  Without even a thank-you, the aunt turned, swept toward the telephone, and called long distance.

  Dale went swiftly into the dining room and began to rearrange the setting of the table, not for any special reason except to listen and discover if she could what her unwanted guests were going to do next.

  It was a bank that was being called up and an official who evidently knew her aunt. There ensued a rather frantic conversation in which it appeared that the gentleman in question would not have access to the lady’s safe-deposit box without a letter from her giving him authority and the key to open her box.

  But the lady did not stop with the one try. She insisted on getting the address of the bank president, who was absent on vacation, and then did not hesitate to call him up and insist on a reply as soon as the man came in, no matter how late it was. After that, with ominous sighs, she flung herself down in a chair and snatched up a book.

  Dale tried to busy herself around the house, not to seem to be listening, but occasionally her aunt would go to the phone again and sharply question long distance.

  But at last there came an answer from the man she had called, and then Dale almost felt sorry for him, for such a list of questions as were poured across the line. Did he remember anything about her husband having bought a piece of property in the East, property in which his mother was to live? Over and over again in different phraseology she asked the question until the man, trying to be courteous, must have been exasperated. The upshot of it was that he did not remember any such transaction and that if Mrs. Huntley wanted her personal letters gone through for a matter of evidence of any kind it would be wiser if she were to come home herself and go through her own papers. He did not feel that anyone else should take that responsibility. And anyway, he was off for a time of rest and was not sure how soon he would be back. If he did as his doctor advised, it might be several months yet before his return.

  At last the interview was over, and Dale drew a long breath, for it was evident that there would be a large charge for that call, and it was most unlikely that her aunt would stop to inquire how much it was or ever remember to ask for the bill when it came in and pay it. Dale was not penurious, and if even a large telephone bill would open the way for her guests to go home soon, she would not begrudge it, but she was appalled at the expenses that were mounting up daily. Grandmother had warned her, but somehow she had not been able to comprehend how true it would be.

  And now, noting a cessation of loud talk, Hattie opened the kitchen door and sign
aled that lunch was ready to be served whenever Dale desired. So she gave the signal and the boarders trooped noisily in.

  “Oh boy, but I’m empty! After that measly breakfast I could eat a whole cow,” said Powelton, slamming himself into his chair.

  “Yes,” said his mother. “Dale, you certainly did give us a slim meal this morning. Or was that Hattie’s planning? If it was, I think she ought to be dealt with about it. It was simply horrid.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Aunt Blanche,” said Dale quietly. “No, it was not of Hattie’s planning. I did the best I could with what was in the house. You know, I was pretty well occupied yesterday and didn’t get my usual shopping in.”

  “Well, I can’t understand why you couldn’t have sent Hattie down for what you needed early this morning.”

  “Well, that didn’t just seem to be convenient, either,” said Dale with a quiet dignity.

  Then Corliss entered and stood a moment behind her chair, surveying the table with disgust. “Sandwiches!” she sneered. “Made of lettuce, too! My greatest abomination! As far as I’m concerned, you can take them away. I want something real. After that sketchy breakfast we had, I think we rate something better than just sandwiches.”

  She slumped down in her chair unhappily, and just then Hattie entered with a salad of grated carrots and pineapple.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” said Corliss. “You can’t feed me carrots! I simply won’t eat them, and that’s all!”

  “Get me some peanut butter, Hattie!” ordered Powelton.

  “I’m afraid there isn’t any peanut butter in the house, Powelton,” said Dale apologetically. “I didn’t know that you were especially fond of that. I’ll get some the next time I’m in the store.”

  Hattie brought in the plates of hot soup, the disgruntled boarders settled down deprecatingly to eat it, and quiet was restored for the moment.

  Then the pudding came in, a nicely browned bread pudding made in Hattie’s best style, with a nice little cup of hard sauce to eat with it.

  “What is it?” asked Corliss with her nose in the air. “Bread pudding? Heavens! No! You can’t get that down me, nor Pow either. We told our family long ago not to try any of that on us.”

  “Sorry you don’t like it,” said Dale. “I’m very fond of Hattie’s bread puddings.” But she made no further apology.

  “Well,” said the mother at last, after picking among the array on her plate, “I’m sure I don’t know how you children are going to last till dinnertime. You haven’t either of you eaten enough to keep a bird alive. Here! I’ll give you some money and you can go down to the drugstore and get some ice cream.”

  She handed out fifty cents, and the brother and sister departed. Then she sat back surveying the table dishearteningly. At last she spoke. “It seems too bad to let your table run down this way,” she said, looking sadly at Dale. “If you haven’t time to go to the store and you can’t trust Hattie, would you like me to take over the ordering and running of the house while I am here?”

  “No, thank you,” said Dale sweetly. “I’m afraid I just wouldn’t be able to pay the bills. You don’t realize, Aunt Blanche, that I have only one ration book of my own to depend upon.”

  “Now, Dale, don’t begin to talk that way. You had a good dinner the night we came. And the next day. I’m sure if you understood running things right you could have good meals all the time without any more ration stamps. We didn’t bring our books along, of course. It never occurred to me that it would be required when we were visiting.”

  “Well, I’m sorry you feel you are not well fed, but you know we do have to have ration stamps for meats and butter and lots of things, and one book of stamps doesn’t go so very far. You see, that first day I had enough because I had been going without meat and butter for some days, and a lot of things that took stamps, saving up for your coming. But those saved-up stamps are all gone now, and I’m really doing the best that I can. And of course I haven’t a very large budget of money to go on either, you must remember.”

  “Well, Grandmother left you that thousand dollars,” said the aunt, almost contemptuously.

  “Oh! And would you think I should use that right up for the table? And when it is gone, what would I do then?”

  “Oh, I guess Grandmother gave you plenty more, if the truth were known,” was the contemptuous reply. “And besides, I offered you a job that would cover your board and keep, which you turned down most ungratefully.”

  “Yes,” said Dale gently. “I have other plans. But I am not expecting to use up my small inheritance in furnishing the table. Not at present. I’m sorry, of course, that my table doesn’t please you, but it’s the best I can do at present, and of course there is always the hotel and the drugstore if our table isn’t satisfactory.”

  “Well, I think you are getting pretty impudent. I know of course Grandmother must have left you a large sum besides what was named in the will. I don’t know how she got around the law, but she certainly must have had oodles of money, and naturally you got all you could out of her.”

  Dale was quiet for a moment trying to control her temper, and when she had been able to steady her voice, she looked up and smiled. “I’m sorry you have any such an idea of Grandmother,” she said. “I may as well tell you that she had nothing whatever of her own but her small annuity, which ceased at her death. Out of that she has through the years saved a little here and a little there, until she was able to put aside enough to cover her funeral expenses and to give the few small bequests that were named in the will. She did not give me money other than was named. Now, shall we go in the other room and make our plans for the day?”

  Dale rose with gentle dignity and led the way into the living room, and there was nothing left for her aunt to do but follow; that is, if she wanted to keep up the conversation.

  “Now, what are you going to do this afternoon, Aunt Blanche?” asked Dale. “Is there any way I can be of service to you? Is your lawyer coming out again today?”

  Her aunt gave her a sharp look, as if she suspected she might have been listening to her telephone conversations. “No,” she said sharply, “he isn’t. He’s much too busy to devote so much time to one client, he says, but goodness knows he’s being paid enough. I think he ought to give up everything else and attend to one client until he gets things started. This is unendurable, hanging around this way. Your father certainly messed things up terribly, insisting on putting everything in his own name. I don’t see what right he had to do that anyway.”

  Dale lifted her chin a bit haughtily. “I would rather not discuss what my father did, Aunt Blanche. I have entire confidence in his actions, of course, and I think you will find that so have all the people who had to do with him in a business way.”

  “Oh, of course you would feel that way,” said the aunt disagreeably, “no matter what he did.”

  Dale went over to pick up a book that had been dropped on the floor, and after a moment, her aunt continued: “Well, I’m certainly disgusted with everything, especially all business matters, and of course if I felt that you were willing to accept my offer and come home with us, to help run our household, I would promise to be entirely responsible for your board and keep, and we would just forget this house and wait until a good opportunity comes later to sell it. But you are determined to be stubborn, and I feel responsible for you. I’ve always told dear Grandma that I would look after you when she was gone and she needn’t worry about that.”

  But Dale turned and spoke firmly. “No, Aunt Blanche, you needn’t feel that way any longer. I am of age and fully able to take care of myself. I have my plans all made. I discussed them with Grandmother, and she heartily approved of everything, so you can cast aside any responsibility you have been feeling on my behalf and just make your own plans.”

  “But I should like to know just what your plans are. I really can’t give up the burden of my responsibility for you unless I can know and approve what you are thinking of doing.”

  “Well
, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Blanche, but my plans are not ready to be divulged yet. It is enough for me that Grandmother and my former guardian approve of them, and it is better that no one else should know anything about them yet.”

  “Indeed!” said her aunt. “I see you are still stubborn and impudent, and I am sure the time is not far off when you will have to regret this. I think you will find that Granniss lawyer is a fraud and is pulling the wool over your eyes.”

  “No,” said Dale, “I am sure I will never regret it. And now, if I cannot do anything to help you in any way, I will ask you to excuse me. I have some errands downtown, which I should do this afternoon, and I think I’ll go now so that I shall not be late for dinner.” Dale hurried out of the room.

  She went first to a store from which she could call up Mr. Granniss and report on the state of things without being overheard at home, and she received comfort in so doing.

  “Buffington is just stalling for time,” he said. “He hasn’t a leg to stand on and he knows it. But don’t worry. This will all come out right in good time. I only wish I could find some way to send your unwelcome guests home, but that might only mean they would return again, so perhaps it is better to get it all done at once.”

  Dale went to see three of her grandmother’s old friends, who were confined to their homes or bedridden and hadn’t been able to get even to the funeral. She stayed a little while with each, giving them dear little last messages from their old friend and a few little tokens, like a handkerchief, a devotional book, and a small testament Grandmother had designated for them. And when she came back to the codfish dinner, not anticipating a happy time, she was at least calm in her mind and resolved to keep sweet no matter what happened.

  It was quite early the next morning, before the relatives had come over for breakfast, that the telephone rang and there was David Kenyon, her officer-friend, calling her.

 

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