CHAPTER XVIII WHO WAS MISS FINEFEATHER
Roberta stepped into a drug store to inquire the way to the address thatshe had upon a slip of brown paper. The clerk happened to know thelocality without referring to the directory, and Bobs was thanking himwhen one of the customers exclaimed in a voice that plainly expressed thespeaker's great joy: "Bobsy Vandergrift, of all people! Where in theworld are you girls living? Dick wrote me that you had left Long Island,but he failed to tell me where you had located?"
It was Kathryn De Laney who, as she talked, drew Bobs into a quiet booth.The girls seated themselves and clasped hands across the table.
"Oh, Kathy," Bobs said, her eyes glowing with the real pleasure that shefelt, "I've been meaning to look you up, for Gloria's sake, if for noother reason. I heard Glow say only the other day that she wanted to seeyou. I believe you'd do her worlds of good. You're so breezy andcheerful."
Kathryn looked troubled. "Why, is anything especially wrong with Glow?"
"She's brooding because Gwen doesn't write," Bobs said. Then she toldbriefly all that had happened: how Gwen had refused to come with theothers to try to earn her living, and how instead she had departedwithout saying good-bye to them to visit her school friend, EloiseRochester, and how letters, sent there by Gloria, had been returnedmarked "Whereabouts unknown."
"I honestly believe that Gloria thinks of nothing else. I've watched herwhen she was pretending to read, and she doesn't turn a page by the hour.I had just about made up my mind to put an advertisement of some kind inthe paper. Not that I'm crazy about Gwen myself. There's no excuse forone sister being so superlatively selfish and disagreeable as she is, butGloria believes, she honestly does, that if we are patient and loving,Gwen will change in time, because after all she is our mother'sdaughter."
"Gloria is right," was the quiet answer. "I am sure of that. You allhelped to spoil Gwen when she was a child because she was frail. Thenlater you let her have her own way because you dreaded her temper spells,but I honestly believe that a few hard knocks will do much towardreadjusting Gwendolyn's outlook upon life."
"But, Kathryn!" Bobs exclaimed. "Don't you know that Gwen couldn't standhard knocks? If it were a case of sink or swim, Gwen would just give upand sink."
"I'm not so sure," the girl who had been next door neighbor to theVandergrifts all her life replied. "It's an instinct with all of us to atleast try to keep our heads above water." Then she added: "But didn't Ihear you asking the clerk about an address? That was what first attractedmy attention to you, because it is the same locality as my destination.I'm visiting nurse now on the lower West Side."
Then, after glancing at the slip of paper Bobs held up, Kathryncontinued: "I'll call a taxi, and while we are riding down there you cantell me all about yourself."
When they were settled for the long ride, Bobs blurted out: "Say, Kathy,before I begin, please tell me why you've taken up nursing? A girl with athousand dollars a month income hardly needs the salary derived from suchservice, and, of course, I know that you take none. Phyl said she thoughtyou ought to be examined by a lunacy board."
Kathryn laughed good-naturedly as she replied: "Oh, Phyl means all right.She does think I'm crazy, but honestly, Bobsy, anyone who lives the idle,selfish butterfly life that Phyllis does is worse than not sane, I think:but she will wake up as Gwen will, some day, and see the worthlessness ofit all. Now tell me about yourself. Why are you bound for the lower WestSide?"
Bobs told her story. How Kathryn laughed. "A Vandergrift a detective!"she exclaimed. "What would that stately old grandfather of yours have tosay if he knew it?"
Roberta's eyes twinkled. "Just about the same thing that he would sayabout aircraft or radio. Impossible!"
The recounting of their recent experiences had occupied so much timethat, as its conclusion was reached, so too was Bobs' destination.
"I'll get out with you, if you don't mind," Kathryn said, "for, sinceMiss Finefeather is ill, I may at least be able to give her some advicethat will help her."
Roberta glanced gratefully at her friend. "I had hoped that you wouldwant to come with me," she said, "but I did not like to ask, knowing thatyour own mission might be imperative."
"No, it is not." Then, having dismissed the taxi driver. Kathryn said: "Iknow this building. It is where a large number of poor struggling artistshave rooms. On each floor there is one community kitchen."
A janitor appeared from the basement at their ring. She said that MissFinefeather lived on the very top floor and that the young ladies mightgo right up, and she did hope that they would be on time.
"On time for what?" Kathryn paused to inquire. The woman gave anindifferent shrug.
"Oh," she informed them, "ever so often one of the artists getsdiscouraged, and then she happens to remember that the river isn't sovery far away. Also they just go to sleep sometimes." Another shrug, and,with the added remark that she didn't blame them much, the woman returnedto her dreary home.
Bobs shuddered. What if they were too late? Poor Miss Finefeather, if shewere really Winnie Waring-Winston, as Roberta so hoped, would not need bediscouraged when she had a fine home and a mother whose only interest inlife was to find her.
They were half-way up the long, steep flight of stairs leading to the topfloor when Bobs paused and looked back at her friend, as she said: "I'malmost afraid that this girl cannot be the one I am seeking. Winnie couldnot be discouraged in only three days."
"I thought that at once," Kathryn replied, "but she is someone introuble, and so I must go to her and see if I can help."
In silence they continued to climb to the top floor, which was dividedinto four small rooms. Three of the doors were locked, but the fourthopened at their touch, revealing a room so dark that, at first, theycould only see the form of the bed, and were relieved to note thatsomeone was lying upon it. But at their entrance there was no movementfrom the silent figure.
"Maybe--after all--we came too late," Bobs said softly, and how her heartached for the poor girl lying there, and she wondered who it might be.