GI Brides

by Grace Livingston Hill

  Quietly Dale looked up, her pen poised for the next words she was about to write. “Apologies?” said Dale with a surprised lifting of her brows. “Apologies for what? Or—did you mean you came to apologize?”

  “I? Apologize?” screamed the aunt. “Why should I apologize?”

  “Well, I am afraid I wouldn’t just know what you would consider a sufficient reason for apology,” said Dale, speaking gently, almost as one would speak to a child who had misbehaved. “Perhaps you did not realize that the whole street, who are all very dear friends of Grandmother’s, were greatly scandalized at the sounds of hilarity that proceeded from the home where she had lived, so soon after her death. You see, the people around this neighborhood are quiet, respectable people who are not in the habit of attending nightclubs and getting even slightly tipsy, and to hear such sounds coming from Grandmother’s home shocked them. But you are a comparative stranger here, of course, and did not know those people who came here and probably thought you could not help what your guests did. I felt rather mortified for you.”

  “What?” screamed the aunt. “You felt mortified for me? You outrageous little baggage you! And what did you think of yourself, coming in to my party and bringing a lot of old fogies and practically sending my guests all home? Have you any apologies? Oh no! You turn on us, your guests. It is a pity that Grandma couldn’t have lived long enough to know just how rude you were to her nearest relatives.”

  Dale looked at her aunt steadily. “Aunt Blanche, what did I do but come to my own home, where I had a perfect right to come, and expect quietness and respectability, and introduce my friends who are among the finest in our city? I am afraid I do not see any reason for apology in anything I did. And now, Aunt Blanche, since we are coming to some understanding I think I should go on and explain that I am starting a school for the children of defense workers here in the house and that after next week I shall not be free any longer to entertain guests. I am sorry to have to seem inhospitable, but the matter has been all arranged, and I have promised to undertake it without any further delay. I don’t know what your plans are or whether you were arranging to stay in this region longer than next week or not, but if you feel that you would like to stay I think I can suggest several nice places down farther toward the city where you might secure board.”

  “Well, really!” said Aunt Blanche, rising and snapping her furious eyes. “So we are being turned out of the house, are we? Well I shall certainly remember that.”

  “But I haven’t meant it that way, Aunt Blanche. You see, I have a regular job, at least for the duration. Grandmother helped me plan it. Besides, Hattie is going to the hospital for an operation pretty soon, and I can’t possibly look after twenty children and cook meals for a family besides. I’m sure you must see how it is.”

  “No, I don’t see how it is at all,” snapped her aunt. “In the first place, you never had to take a job like that. And certainly you don’t need to begin it while we are here. As for Hattie, she isn’t the only working woman left in the world. And I’ll engage to get you another as good or better than she is. Certainly I’m not going to leave here to accommodate Hattie. Not until my business is finished, anyway.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Blanche, but you can’t run my life for me. I’m of age, and this is my house. I’ll do all I can to find a pleasant place for you to board. I’m sure there must be one that wouldn’t cost you as much as you are paying now at the hotel.”

  “I am paying!” screamed the angry woman. “It was not my idea going to the hotel, in the first place. It was you who suggested it, and therefore the paying was your responsibility. I told the hotel manager when I went there that they might send the bill to you, and it will probably be here in a day or two. I understand they send bills at the end of the week, or perhaps month. I don’t know which. But you’ll find out.”

  “Aunt Blanche, I’m not going to argue with you, but certainly I am not responsible for your bills at the hotel, and I shall not pay any of them! You had no right to tell them I would. I shall certainly make that plain to their management. But I’m sorry you do not understand. I am not doing this to be disagreeable. I am only telling you what my present obligations and plans are. And inasmuch as you are not staying here nights, anyway, I didn’t think it would make so much difference to you where you ate. Besides, you haven’t seemed satisfied at all with our food. Certainly you wouldn’t want to be coming to meals with twenty children running all over the place, would you?”

  “Twenty children! That’s ridiculous! What right did you have to take twenty children into the house, especially when you had relatives visiting you? This is the most absurd thing I ever heard of, and you might as well understand now as anytime that I am not going anywhere else. I am staying right here! We are the wife and children of Grandma’s son, and that at least gives us the right to stay in her house, even if she did see fit to leave it to you. And while we are talking about it, you may as well understand that Corliss is going to have Grandma’s room from now on. If you don’t unlock that door I shall get a carpenter this morning to do so, and you can’t do anything about it. I’ll see if I have to stay in a hotel because a little upstart of a girl like you takes a notion to be disagreeable. Now, I hope you understand. I’m going out for an hour, over to the hotel to get our suitcases. And when I get back, if Grandma’s room isn’t open I shall phone for a carpenter at once to knock down the door!”

  Then Aunt Blanche rose with a grand gesture and left the room. Dale’s heart went down with a thud. What was she going to do about this?

  Suddenly she got up, locked her door, and knelt beside her bed.

  “Dear Lord, I’ll just put this all in Your hands. Will You please help me and show me what to do. Please don’t let me have to fight for my rights.”

  For some little time after she rose from her knees she stood by her window looking out. Was she wrong? Could it possibly be required of her to let the vandal relatives into Grandmother’s precious room? Was she making too much of this? She did not worship that room in any sense, but it was a dear place to her with precious memories. Even now in her mind she could see Corliss jeering at the little framed sampler hanging on the wall that Grandmother’s little-girl hands had wrought: “The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”

  She could see the sneer that would curl Corliss’s lips, the ugly antipathy that would register in her expression as she read that. She could see Corliss’s hands snatching the poor old sampler down and stamping on it, smashing the glass that protected it, if she were ever allowed the freedom of that room. She could see the derision that would greet the quaint old picture of Grandfather, with his old-fashioned haircut and the stock around his neck. Corliss simply wouldn’t be able to comprehend how anybody who looked like that picture could possibly be dear to anyone, and she would never stop her vandalism because somebody else reverenced the object of her scorn.

  The quaint little vases on Grandmother’s bureau, with their guilt edges and their hoop-skirted maidens and old-time suitors. They would all come in for her contempt.

  Grandmother’s old rocking chair with its patchwork cushions made of the pieces of family dresses of bygone days. Grandmother’s pretty little desk that Grandfather had bought for her, with its small bundles of precious letters and papers, every one of them heirlooms that under Grandmother’s direction had been left there for Dale to read over and put away among the other heirlooms. There hadn’t been time for her to go over everything since Grandmother’s last attack that brought her death. And she must do it quietly, without stranger’s eyes looking on. There was no use. She simply couldn’t let Corliss into that room. Not unless everything was first moved out, and there wasn’t any place to put the things if she were to try to do that.

  She thought of the neat piles of Grandmother’s garments and the little gray dresses hanging in the closet, including the shining gray silk to be worn with the lovely white lace ker
chiefs in the top drawer of the bureau. She thought of the fine silk shawl with long handsome fringe that Grandfather had bought for Grandmother on their first wedding anniversary. She imagined how Corliss might stretch it around her and sail out even into the street dragging it behind her as if it were an evening dress. Corliss was capable of all sorts of things like that. She remembered the groups of much-loved photographs of Grandmother’s old-fashioned family, even the daguerreotypes of her two boys, now dead. Oh, she couldn’t have Corliss laughing at their strange clothes, their little copper-toed shoes, as they stood sturdily beside the photographer’s chair, one hand stiffly outstretched to grip the plush arm. Oh, surely it wouldn’t be right to let the relatives in there, to destroy all that belovedness that Grandmother had meant to leave for her memory. They had often talked about it. So she wasn’t being just selfish. And it wasn’t as if it would have done Corliss any definite good to sleep in that room. It was just a notion she had taken, which would probably pass. Probably the only reason she wanted the room was because she knew that Dale treasured it, and she had always enjoyed being unpleasant to Dale.

  However, of course she was not going to allow any carpenter to knock the door down. That was absurd. She would do her best to settle this matter peaceably, but if not, she would have to resort to—well, what could she resort to? Of course she might appeal again to Mr. Granniss, but she couldn’t bear to trouble him with such trifling matters of bickering. Well, she had told the Lord about it, now what was there else for her to do?

  But down in the kitchen Hattie, who had hung around at the foot of the back stairs listening and had heard the whole conversation between Dale and her aunt, decided to take matters into her own hands. So she called up the back stairs to Dale: “I’m just goin’ down to the drugstore to get some more pills. I took the last one last night and I need some more. Is there anythin’ you want, Miss Dale?”

  “No Hattie, not unless—why yes, we need some peanut butter and some cinnamon. You might get a yeast cake, too, and make a few cinnamon buns.”

  “Yes’m,” said Hattie. “Okay by me,” and then under her breath, “though what you want to pamper that old battleax and her brats for I don’t see!” So Hattie made her hurried way to the drugstore and called up Mr. Granniss. She felt that he was a tower of strength at all times.

  “Mister Granniss, sir, I hope I’s not interruptin’ your work, but there’s a question I like to ask. Is there any way you can stop a relative from tearin’ down a door when she wants to get in a room where you don’t want her? ’cause that old battleax of an aunt has gone after a carpenter to break down a door of Grandma’s room so her girl can have that for her room. And is there any way to stop her?”

  “Why yes, I think there is, Hattie. Does Miss Dale know you are calling me? Did she ask you to?”

  “Oh no, sir, Mister Granniss. And don’t you go tell her, neither. I just overheard a conversation, and I thought maybe I oughtta do somethin’ about it.”

  “Well, don’t you worry, Hattie; I’ll look into things. I don’t think she’d dare go that far anyway.”

  “Oh yes she would. You don’t know that woman.”

  “All right, Hattie. I’ll look after it.”

  “Okay, thanks, Mister Granniss!” And Hattie hung up and went for her pills and cinnamon.

  What Mr. Granniss did was to call up the police headquarters that wasn’t far from the Huntley home.

  “Is that you, Mike? Well, glad I caught you. This is Granniss. I think I want your help in something. It’s rather a difficult matter, and as usual I’m butting into affairs that don’t perhaps rightly concern me. So I thought I better rope you into it. You remember Dale Huntley, the little girl you used to look out for when she went to school?”

  “Sure thing I do,” said Mike heartily. “Her Grandma died the other day, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, she did, and she’s having a stiff time of it just now. Some in-laws came to the funeral and don’t seem to know enough to go home. The woman is the widow of Dale’s uncle Harold, and she’s a handful. She’s trying to make it appear that she ought to inherit at least a part of that house, and she’s making life miserable for Dale. She hasn’t, of course, a leg to stand on, for the house is Dale’s out and out, but while she’s trying to see what she can work, she’s doing everything she can to make herself unpleasant. Just now I hear she’s taken a notion she wants her daughter to have Grandmother’s room, and because Dale has locked the door and doesn’t want it opened—wants to keep it just as her grandmother left it—the aunt has gone off to get a carpenter to break down the door. Can you manage to stop that, Mike? You see, Dale doesn’t know I know. Hattie, the maid, phoned me. I wonder if you can’t invent a reason for hanging around and helping out if it really comes to a showdown.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Granniss. I’ll find a way. Dale used to be a little pal of mine in her school days.”

  The big policeman asked a few more questions and promised to do what he could to keep an eye on the house, and when he had hung up, he gave a few terse directions to some of his men and then went out, walking in the vicinity of the Huntley house, first encircling it at a distance until he had pretty well taken in everything that was going on. From different points he did some watching of the house, and it was how he came to finally see Aunt Blanche approaching purposefully up the street with a shambling, ancient carpenter carrying a small chest of tools in her wake. She had the appearance of towing him, like a truck and a trailer. Mike smiled grimly behind his hand and changed his position somewhat so that he could take in the whole situation.

  Aunt Blanche came briskly up the steps of the house and let herself and her workman into the living room, not pausing to look for anybody but mounting the stairs determinedly, the carpenter obediently following her.

  Mike, by this time, had crossed the road and put himself within hearing distance, for just then Aunt Blanche had her hands full and was not listening for rubber-shod footsteps behind her.

  Dale stood at the head of the stairs, blocking the way to Grandmother’s room effectually.

  But the aunt’s voice was determined and clear as she pointed to the closed door down the hall. “That is the door we want opened,” she said forcefully. “Someone has locked it, and we need to get in.”

  But Dale stepped up in front of the carpenter. “No,” she said firmly, “we do not want that door open, Mr. Moxey. My aunt is mistaken. This house is mine, and I definitely do not want the door open. I locked it myself and do not wish it interfered with.”

  “But lady, you said the owner wanted it open—” said the old man, turning puzzled eyes to Aunt Blanche’s angry face.

  “You don’t understand, carpenter. I am really the owner of the house, though there are some legal matters to be attended to before I take possession, but I must have the door open at once, and I’ll pay you double what you asked if you do it at once without further discussion. Step aside, Dale, and let him pass. I simply won’t be interfered with.”

  But it was not Dale but the policeman who did the stepping. He strode up the two remaining steps of the stairs and planted himself right in the way between Aunt Blanche and the closed door.

  “Sorry, madam, I’ll have to interfere. This house belongs to Miss Dale, and she’s the only one who has a right to say whether her doors shall be open or not. So, Moxey, you better scram! You don’t do any carpentry work on this home unless Miss Dale Huntley hires you to do it. So scram! And do it quick if you don’t want me to take you to the station house.”

  “Now look here!” said Aunt Blanche. “Who are you, I should like to know, and what business have you butting in on my affairs?”

  “I’m the chief of police, ma’am, and this doesn’t happen to be your affair. It is entirely Miss Dale’s affair, and she says she doesn’t want her grandmother’s door open, so it doesn’t get opened. I’ve been asked to look after Miss Dale’s affairs and keep an eye on her house, and I’m doing it. I’ve known Miss Dale since she was a baby,
and I don’t intend she shall be put upon. I don’t know who you are or what right you have in this house, but if you don’t belong here, you better scram, too.”

  “The idea! The very idea! I’m Dale’s aunt, and I’ve come here to look after her affairs for her since her grandmother died. So, you see, she doesn’t need your care any longer. I’m here to do that.”

  “No ma’am. You made a mistake. You ain’t Miss Dale’s guardian, and I happen to know she’s of age and don’t need no guardian no more. I’m just here to look out she ain’t bothered, not even by a so-called relative.”

  “Oh! So that’s the idea,” said the irate aunt. “Dale sent for you, did she? And she asked you to protect what she chooses to think is her own. Well, Dale, I didn’t think you’d descend to sending for the police, but since you have, I shall have to send for my lawyer.”

  “Send for all the lawyers you want, lady,” said the imposing policeman, “but you’ll still find you’re up against something bigger than lawyers, and that’s the law. But you’re wrong about Miss Dale. She didn’t send for me, and I didn’t know just how she felt about this door till I come up the stairs and heard her say she didn’t want it tore down, so I thought it was time for me to get to work. And now, lady, I’ll thank you to walk downstairs and to look out that you don’t make any more attempts to tear down this door or else I’ll have to take you to the station house.”

  “Why, you—you—out rageous creature. To talk to a lady like that! I shall certainly report you and have you ousted from your job!”

  Mike grinned. “Sorry, ma’am, I just made one mistake in this here transaction. I shouldn’t have called you a lady, I see, but we’ll let it go this time. Would you like me to help you down the stairs?”

  “You let me alone. You take your hand off my shoulder this instant!”

  “Okay, ma’am, just as soon as you scram!”

  Aunt Blanche, as she felt the iron hand of the law tighten on her shoulder, scrammed rapidly, so that she almost fell full-length down the stairs, except for the firm hold of the policeman, which steadied her safely to the hall below.