Blue Ruin (21 page)

The reason for it came out when Grandma Whipple reminded Amelia that she ought to call up and give the invitation if she expected Lynette to come to dinner that night. That was Grandma Whipple’s way of giving a command.

Amelia opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. She hadn’t intended to ask Lynette to dinner. She had trouble enough without making any more, she thought. Besides, she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to bring Lynette into things yet.

But Dana looked up sharply as she rose to obey her orders.

“It isn’t worthwhile to call,” he said briefly, “Lynn’s away just now,” and he went on talking with Jessie Belle about a restaurant in New York which she said was positively the best in the city, barring none. Jessie Belle dearly loved to show off her knowledge of New York, which she considered the center of the universe. So, in fact, did Dana.

Justine pricked up her ears and tried to get in a question about Lynette’s absence, but Dana managed to evade it and hurried out to get the car. He had invited Ella Smith and her daughter to take a ride and told Justine quite casually as he went out the door that she might come along too if she wished. He knew he would have to take her for a ride sometime and it might as well be over with. He whistled cheerfully as he went across the grass to the garage. Not that he felt lighthearted, just that he wanted to appear so. Besides, a whistle is penetrating. His had been known to reach as far as Lynette’s open window in times past. And it just might happen that Lynette had come home on the midnight train, after all. If she had, he wanted her to see that he was happy and paying no attention whatever to her whimsies. He had thoroughly convinced himself during the watches of the night that Lynette would return to her home not later than that evening, and he meant to give her three or four good long lonely days to recover from her escapade before he condescended to visit and forgive her. In the meantime he would play around with Jessie Belle. Not that he cared for any more of Jessie Belle’s society. She was a vapid little devil! But one had to do something, and meantime why not gain experience? Jessie Belle was in the line of education and experience. One had to have experience to preach well.

He had been strongly tempted to run down to New York last night in spite of all his common sense and indignation and do the caveman act, pick up Lynette bodily and carry her off back home. In fact, he had actually gone nearly sixty miles on the way, but had finally been able to control his foolishness and turn back. It would only have meant an endless giving in to Lynette all the days of his life, and that was not to be thought of.

But now that morning was here, his sentiment or foolishness or whatever it was had fled. He was positive Lynette would be home during the day, and he went about as cheerfully as possible, filling in the time until he could with reasonable dignity go to her.

It was a radiant morning, and Jessie Belle looked more than ever like a blue flower.

In the house Ella Smith was fearfully protesting. She was afraid of automobiles, but more than that she was afraid of Jessie Belle. She wanted to stay quietly in her room and read and try to forget what that wild child of hers might do next. She wanted to shut her eyes and hide her head and be comfortable a little longer before some kind of cataclysm arose that should destroy them all.

But Justine would not have it so. For one thing, she knew Dana would never allow her to go along unless Ella went, too, so she nagged her upstairs for her hat and coat, and nagged her quickly out to the car, and they started off, Ella Smith huddled miserably in a corner of the backseat, watching an approaching truck with eyes that fairly bulged with apprehension.

In her window in the dining room, her trusty crutch at her side, sat Grandmother Whipple cackling out her rusty laughter at their expense.

“It only needs you, Amelia, to complete the party,” she chuckled. “The wet hen is all in a flutter. She’d rather cross the street and get run over by one than ride in one and get scared to death. Why don’t you go, Amelia, and let ‘em have a little common sense aboard?”

Amelia cast a withering glance at her tormentor and stalked silently out to the kitchen with a pile of plates to be washed.

When she came back Grandmother Whipple chuckled out another sentence.

“You ought to have taken my advice last night and got in your invite to Lynette before she ran away. I must say she shows more sense than I thought she had, and she’s got a good deal. Maybe she thinks ‘give a man rope enough and he’ll hang himself.’ Anyhow she’s gone! Know how long she’s going to be away, Amelia? Just for the day, or longer? If I was you I’d go over and leave the invite for her. Maybe her mother’ll telephone it to her and she’ll come home. It would be a good scheme to have her here when they get back. I’d like to see that little devil’s face when she sees her.”

Amelia’s lips set in a hard, thin line, and she walked heavily around the table clattering the dishes together in stacks.

“No, I don’t know anything about her plans,” she said crossly, “and what’s more I don’t intend to invite her—ever—maybe! You’ve invited that hussy here, now you can take the consequences. If that’s the kind of a girl you want Dana to get mixed up with, with his prospects and all, why I suppose you’ll have your way. You’re financing him. I’m only his mother, not fit to wipe his shoes on, and poor at that! My hands are tied. I can’t do a thing! But I won’t be a party to bringing Lynette Brooke here on top of it. She wouldn’t ever come again, I’m sure of that, with that made-up brat making eyes at Dana and smirking around and snubbing everybody else. Ella-ing her own mother, too! I declare it makes me sick! I don’t know as I’ll be able to get dinner, I’m so disgusted!”

Grandma chuckled.

“Oh, Jezebel’s all right in her place,” she cackled. “A place for everything and everything in its place. She’ll serve a purpose for a while. We’ll see how it turns out.”

“Well, her place isn’t here, I’m sure of that!” snapped Amelia. “I wouldn’t like to state where I think it is.”

Grandma chuckled more than ever at that.

“You mean New York, I suppose. Amelia, I hope you don’t mean anything worse than New York.”

Amelia stalked offendedly to the kitchen and from that shelter retorted, “I don’t make a practice of swearing, though you do try to turn everything against me.”

Grandma cackled to herself a great many times that morning, and along toward noon when Amelia came in to set the lunch table she said, “Amelia, you’re a good old soul, and I do torment you a lot, but haven’t you ever figured out that there’s sometimes sense behind what I do? Ever hear how they find out whether gold is real or not? They put it in the fire. That boy of yours needs a good hot test or two to take the dross out of him before he gets to be a great preacher and gets his head turned, or his Grandfather Whipple will turn over in his grave and send down some kind of a curse on him. I’ve seen it coming. I didn’t go to get this Jezebel in the house; I wasn’t just sure what she might be. But since she wanted to come it kinda seemed providential. Now she’s here, let Dana take his test. If he ain’t fit for the great work you an’ I and his grandfather been tryin’ for years to push him into, if he ain’t strong enough to stand the test, he ain’t fit for a preacher. There’s more’n one Jezebel in the world, and he’s bound to meet ‘em. I guess you don’t need to worry.”

Amelia stood with her large, capable hands resting on her hips, a desperate look on her face, while this speech was being delivered. Now she considered, with set resigned lips.

“All right,” she said at last, “gimme that old Whipple breast pin of yours! I wantta put it in the fire and see if it’s real!”

Grandma chuckled heartily, her eyes twinkling with appreciation.

“You’re smart, Amelia!” she said. “Do you know that? You have times when you’re real cute and amusing. Don’t I smell those beets burning? You better look after ‘em. I think I’ll take a nap.”

Chapter 15

T
he train drew into Grand Central Station, and Dorothy Reamer rushed at her aunt and cousin and fairly overwhelmed them in her delight.

“Oh, you precious dears!” she screamed, regardless of bystanders and curious passengers. “I knew you’d come! I knew it! I knew it! If you hadn’t I was ready to jump overboard tomorrow with despondency. Come on, hurry up! Mother is in the car, and Daddy’s waiting to get my telephone that it’s all right before he has the passports changed. He’s got it all fixed up so that Lynn can take Cousin Marta’s. Now come on quick, for there’s heaps and heaps to do before the stores close. Mother wants you to help her select some last things. Will you have to go up to the house first, Aunt Mary? Are you tired? Sure? Well, the house is all swathed in covers, of course, and it looks like a ghost. We were planning to take lunch downtown and not go back till the shopping is all done. Are there any more bags? Here, porter! Take these out to the car!”

She overwhelmed them with her plans and swept all thought of home and problems out of their minds. It was as if they had suddenly landed on another planet where the laws under which they had been living before did not obtain.

The handsome car awaited them, and Aunt Hilda greeted them with joyful affection. Something cold and tremulous suddenly swept out of Lynette’s heart, and life seemed to pulse on again. After all, there was a whole day before the ship sailed, and lots of things can happen in a day.

Who could help being interested in such a heaven-sent trip and such a day of delightful shopping? There was an evening dress to be purchased, and a coat. Mother Brooke insisted on that. Lynette needed a new hat, too, and since the fiat had gone forth that there was not much baggage to be taken across, she could indulge her taste a little more leniently in the things she had to purchase.

The morning became suddenly glad.

The day in the woods, theological differences, and little made-up flappers became as a dream. Even her birthday was forgotten. What was one birthday more or less anyway? She was going out to see the world! Her heart grew suddenly light.

Lynette stepped off with Dorothy to get fitted for shoes and her mother looked after her with a sigh of relief. The smile she wore was Lynette’s own dear happy one. Perhaps the hurt had not gone so deep yet. Or was the child counting too much on Dana’s coming down tonight?

They separated for a while to expedite their shopping and met at two o’clock for lunch.

“I just telephoned Dad’s office and he says everything is fixed,” announced Dorothy. “They didn’t kick at anything, even the change in staterooms. Wasn’t it lucky the corner one on the other side of you was vacant, Mother? Funny why Cousin Marta insisted on the other one away off at the other end of the boat. But I thought it was fun. I hate to be treated like a child, and now I suppose Mother will watch up every night to see what time you and I turn in, Lynn.”

She made a comical wry face and pounced on the menu card.

“I’m going to have lobster salad and café parfait,” she announced defiantly, looking at her mother.

“Oh, Dorothy!” protested her mother, “I’m just sure you are going to get sick before we leave and hold up the whole expedition.”

“Oh, rot!” said Dorothy inelegantly. “I never get sick. Lynette what are you going to have?”

Lynette came back from a glance around the big, beautiful tearoom and gave attention to the menu, the happy smile still on her lips.

“Oh, anything,” she said happily. “It all looks good to me. I think I’ll take a tomato stuffed with chicken salad. I remember I had one of those here last winter when you brought me and it was delicious.”

Then she lifted her eyes and suddenly saw a back and shoulders and a sleek black head that reminded her of Dana. It wasn’t Dana. She knew that instantly, but her heart had had time to give a joyful leap and her eyes to light themselves with a heavenly light before they suddenly went dark again, and her heart gave a tug of disappointment. It wasn’t Dana, but it brought Dana right there in the room with his back to her, and she had to sit and watch for him to turn his face—the face that was not Dana’s—to prove to herself over again each time that it was not really Dana, so like were his shoulders and his sleek head and his long, white, tapering hands that he used with such grace. Even his movements seemed to be Dana, until he turned a hawklike face and frowned at the waiter.

Mother Brooke’s watching eyes saw the cloud come over her girl’s face, and following her glance knew instantly what was the matter. She had thought that Dana had come after her! Poor child! Poor little girl. The mother began to pray in her heart, a wordless prayer, leaving the issue with God.

Presently the man who looked like Dana got up, paid his bill, and left the room, and the restlessness died out of Lynette’s eyes, but the light did not return. There was a wistful, anxious pucker around them like haunted eyes, which hurt her mother.

Aunt Hilda, however, created a digression, bringing out her list and making the girls check off the things that were still remaining to be done.

“There’s hairnets, and my blouse at the dressmaker’s, and some aromatic ammonia. Don’t forget those, Dorothy! And your father needs a couple more shirts. Just call up the place where he always gets them and ask them to send them out special late this afternoon. Mary, I think Lynette won’t need but one hat. Let everything go till we get to London or Paris. Did you say she has a black dress? Satin? Oh, that’s perfectly all right. They’re useful, one can get along with very few other dresses.”

So the talk drifted back to the immediate preparations, but somehow they had lost their zest for Lynette. Her eyes were ever searching the throng around the tables, and her ear listening above the orchestra that was discoursing wonderful music for the sound of a voice she knew and loved.

For now a strange thing had happened to Lynette. All the differences of the day before seemed to have vanished, and Dana had become a dream man once more, the beau of her childhood in whom was found no fault. She saw him with the eyes of her soul—a man who had made great attainments and won great honors, a person who had a right to say what was what and whose future was to be phenomenal. And now she began to wonder why she had felt she must go away and to berate herself for having cared so much about a trifling birthday party, and to be restless for the time to come when they would go up to the house, because that would be the place to which Dana was coming if he came after her, or to which he would telephone or send a telegram in case he could not come. He could not find her down here in this throng.