Read Obscure Destinies Page 10


  "Nothing. Except that I can't go to college after all. Papa can't

  let me have the money."

  Mrs. Harris settled herself on the faded cushions of her rocker.

  "How much is it? Tell me about it, Vickie. Nobody's around."

  Vickie told her what the conditions were, briefly and dryly, as if

  she were talking to an enemy. Everyone was an enemy; all society

  was against her. She told her grandmother the facts and then went

  upstairs, refusing to be comforted.

  Mrs. Harris saw her disappear through the kitchen door, and then

  sat looking at the door, her face grave, her eyes stern and sad. A

  poor factory-made piece of joiner's work seldom has to bear a look

  of such intense, accusing sorrow; as if that flimsy pretence of

  "grained" yellow pine were the door shut against all young

  aspiration.

  X

  Mrs. Harris had decided to speak to Mr. Templeton, but

  opportunities for seeing him alone were not frequent. She watched

  out of the kitchen window, and when she next saw him go into the

  barn to fork down hay for his horse, she threw an apron over her

  head and followed him. She waylaid him as he came down from the

  hayloft.

  "Hillary, I want to see you about Vickie. I was wondering if you

  could lay hand on any of the money you got for the sale of my house

  back home."

  Mr. Templeton was nervous. He began brushing his trousers with a

  little whisk-broom he kept there, hanging on a nail.

  "Why, no'm, Mrs. Harris. I couldn't just conveniently call in any

  of it right now. You know we had to use part of it to get moved up

  here from the mines."

  "I know. But I thought if there was any left you could get at, we

  could let Vickie have it. A body'd like to help the child."

  "I'd like to, powerful well, Mrs. Harris. I would, indeedy. But

  I'm afraid I can't manage it right now. The fellers I've loaned to

  can't pay up this year. Maybe next year--" He was like a little

  boy trying to escape a scolding, though he had never had a nagging

  word from Mrs. Harris.

  She looked downcast, but said nothing.

  "It's all right, Mrs. Harris," he took on his brisk business tone

  and hung up the brush. "The money's perfectly safe. It's well

  invested."

  Invested; that was a word men always held over women, Mrs. Harris

  thought, and it always meant they could have none of their own

  money. She sighed deeply.

  "Well, if that's the way it is--" She turned away and went back to

  the house on her flat heelless slippers, just in time; Victoria was

  at that moment coming out to the kitchen with Hughie.

  "Ma," she said, "can the little boy play out here, while I go down

  town?"

  XI

  For the next few days Mrs. Harris was very sombre, and she was not

  well. Several times in the kitchen she was seized with what she

  called giddy spells, and Mandy had to help her to a chair and give

  her a little brandy.

  "Don't you say nothin', Mandy," she warned the girl. But Mandy

  knew enough for that.

  Mrs. Harris scarcely noticed how her strength was failing, because

  she had so much on her mind. She was very proud, and she wanted to

  do something that was hard for her to do. The difficulty was to

  catch Mrs. Rosen alone.

  On the afternoon when Victoria went to her weekly euchre, the old

  lady beckoned Mandy and told her to run across the alley and fetch

  Mrs. Rosen for a minute.

  Mrs. Rosen was packing her trunk, but she came at once.

  Grandmother awaited her in her chair in the play-room.

  "I take it very kindly of you to come, Mrs. Rosen. I'm afraid it's

  warm in here. Won't you have a fan?" She extended the palm leaf

  she was holding.

  "Keep it yourself, Grandma. You are not looking very well. Do you

  feel badly, Grandma Harris?" She took the old lady's hand and

  looked at her anxiously.

  "Oh, no, ma'am! I'm as well as usual. The heat wears on me a

  little, maybe. Have you seen Vickie lately, Mrs. Rosen?"

  "Vickie? No. She hasn't run in for several days. These young

  people are full of their own affairs, you know."

  "I expect she's backward about seeing you, now that she's so

  discouraged."

  "Discouraged? Why, didn't the child get her scholarship after

  all?"

  "Yes'm, she did. But they write her she has to bring more money to

  help her out; three hundred dollars. Mr. Templeton can't raise it

  just now. We had so much sickness in that mountain town before we

  moved up here, he got behind. Pore Vickie's downhearted."

  "Oh, that is too bad! I expect you've been fretting over it, and

  that is why you don't look like yourself. Now what can we do about

  it?"

  Mrs. Harris sighed and shook her head. "Vickie's trying to muster

  courage to go around to her father's friends and borrow from one

  and another. But we ain't been here long,--it ain't like we had

  old friends here. I hate to have the child do it."

  Mrs. Rosen looked perplexed. "I'm sure Mr. Rosen would help her.

  He takes a great interest in Vickie."

  "I thought maybe he could see his way to. That's why I sent Mandy

  to fetch you."

  "That was right, Grandma. Now let me think." Mrs. Rosen put up

  her plump red-brown hand and leaned her chin upon it. "Day after

  tomorrow I am going to run on to Chicago for my niece's wedding."

  She saw her old friend's face fall. "Oh, I shan't be gone long;

  ten days, perhaps. I will speak to Mr. Rosen tonight, and if

  Vickie goes to him after I am off his hands, I'm sure he will help

  her."

  Mrs. Harris looked up at her with solemn gratitude. "Vickie ain't

  the kind of girl would forget anything like that, Mrs. Rosen. Nor

  I wouldn't forget it."

  Mrs. Rosen patted her arm. "Grandma Harris," she exclaimed, "I

  will just ask Mr. Rosen to do it for you! You know I care more

  about the old folks than the young. If I take this worry off your

  mind, I shall go away to the wedding with a light heart. Now

  dismiss it. I am sure Mr. Rosen can arrange this himself for you,

  and Vickie won't have to go about to these people here, and our

  gossipy neighbours will never be the wiser." Mrs. Rosen poured

  this out in her quick, authoritative tone, converting her th's into

  d's, as she did when she was excited.

  Mrs. Harris's red-brown eyes slowly filled with tears,--Mrs. Rosen

  had never seen that happen before. But she simply said, with quiet

  dignity: "Thank you, ma'am. I wouldn't have turned to nobody

  else."

  "That means I am an old friend already, doesn't it, Grandma? And

  that's what I want to be. I am very jealous where Grandma Harris

  is concerned!" She lightly kissed the back of the purple-veined

  hand she had been holding, and ran home to her packing. Grandma

  sat looking down at her hand. How easy it was for these foreigners

  to say what they felt!

  XII

  Mrs. Harris knew she was failing. She was glad to be able to

  conceal
it from Mrs. Rosen when that kind neighbour dashed in to

  kiss her good-bye on the morning of her departure for Chicago.

  Mrs. Templeton was, of course, present, and secrets could not be

  discussed. Mrs. Rosen, in her stiff little brown travelling-hat,

  her hands tightly gloved in brown kid, could only wink and nod to

  Grandmother to tell her all was well. Then she went out and

  climbed into the "hack" bound for the depot, which had stopped for

  a moment at the Templetons' gate.

  Mrs. Harris was thankful that her excitable friend hadn't noticed

  anything unusual about her looks, and, above all, that she had made

  no comment. She got through the day, and that evening, thank

  goodness, Mr. Templeton took his wife to hear a company of

  strolling players sing The Chimes of Normandy at the Opera House.

  He loved music, and just now he was very eager to distract and

  amuse Victoria. Grandma sent the twins out to play and went to bed

  early.

  Next morning, when she joined Mandy in the kitchen, Mandy noticed

  something wrong.

  "You set right down, Miz' Harris, an' let me git you some whisky.

  Deed, ma'am, you look awful porely. You ought to tell Miss

  Victoria an' let her send for the doctor."

  "No, Mandy, I don't want no doctor. I've seen more sickness than

  ever he has. Doctors can't do no more than linger you out, an'

  I've always prayed I wouldn't last to be a burden. You git me some

  whisky in hot water, and pour it on a piece of toast. I feel real

  empty."

  That afternoon when Mrs. Harris was taking her rest, for once she

  lay down upon her lounge. Vickie came in, tense and excited, and

  stopped for a moment.

  "It's all right, Grandma. Mr. Rosen is going to lend me the money.

  I won't have to go to anybody else. He won't ask Father to endorse

  my note, either. He'll just take my name." Vickie rather shouted

  this news at Mrs. Harris, as if the old lady were deaf, or slow of

  understanding. She didn't thank her; she didn't know her

  grandmother was in any way responsible for Mr. Rosen's offer,

  though at the close of their interview he had said: "We won't

  speak of our arrangement to anyone but your father. And I want you

  to mention it to the old lady Harris. I know she has been worrying

  about you."

  Having brusquely announced her news, Vickie hurried away. There

  was so much to do about getting ready, she didn't know where to

  begin. She had no trunk and no clothes. Her winter coat, bought

  two years ago, was so outgrown that she couldn't get into it. All

  her shoes were run over at the heel and must go to the cobbler.

  And she had only two weeks in which to do everything! She dashed

  off.

  Mrs. Harris sighed and closed her eyes happily. She thought with

  modest pride that with people like the Rosens she had always "got

  along nicely." It was only with the ill-bred and unclassified,

  like this Mrs. Jackson next door, that she had disagreeable

  experiences. Such folks, she told herself, had come out of nothing

  and knew no better. She was afraid this inquisitive woman might

  find her ailing and come prying round with unwelcome suggestions.

  Mrs. Jackson did, indeed, call that very afternoon, with a

  miserable contribution of veal-loaf as an excuse (all the

  Templetons hated veal), but Mandy had been forewarned, and she was

  resourceful. She met Mrs. Jackson at the kitchen door and blocked

  the way.

  "Sh-h-h, ma'am, Miz' Harris is asleep, havin' her nap. No'm, she

  ain't porely, she's as usual. But Hughie had the colic last night

  when Miss Victoria was at the show, an' kep' Miz' Harris awake."

  Mrs. Jackson was loath to turn back. She had really come to find

  out why Mrs. Rosen drove away in the depot hack yesterday morning.

  Except at church socials, Mrs. Jackson did not meet people in Mrs.

  Rosen's set.

  The next day, when Mrs. Harris got up and sat on the edge of her

  bed, her head began to swim, and she lay down again. Mandy peeped

  into the play-room as soon as she came downstairs, and found the

  old lady still in bed. She leaned over her and whispered:

  "Ain't you feelin' well, Miz' Harris?"

  "No, Mandy, I'm right porely," Mrs. Harris admitted.

  "You stay where you air, ma'am. I'll git the breakfast fur the

  chillun, an' take the other breakfast in fur Miss Victoria an' Mr.

  Templeton." She hurried back to the kitchen, and Mrs. Harris went

  to sleep.

  Immediately after breakfast Vickie dashed off about her own

  concerns, and the twins went to cut grass while the dew was still

  on it. When Mandy was taking the other breakfast into the dining-

  room, Mrs. Templeton came through the play-room.

  "What's the matter, Ma? Are you sick?" she asked in an accusing

  tone.

  "No, Victoria, I ain't sick. I had a little giddy spell, and I

  thought I'd lay still."

  "You ought to be more careful what you eat, Ma. If you're going to

  have another bilious spell, when everything is so upset anyhow, I

  don't know what I'll do!" Victoria's voice broke. She hurried

  back into her bedroom, feeling bitterly that there was no place in

  that house to cry in, no spot where one could be alone, even with

  misery; that the house and the people in it were choking her to

  death.

  Mrs. Harris sighed and closed her eyes. Things did seem to be

  upset, though she didn't know just why. Mandy, however, had her

  suspicions. While she waited on Mr. and Mrs. Templeton at

  breakfast, narrowly observing their manner toward each other and

  Victoria's swollen eyes and desperate expression, her suspicions

  grew stronger.

  Instead of going to his office, Mr. Templeton went to the barn and

  ran out the buggy. Soon he brought out Cleveland, the black horse,

  with his harness on. Mandy watched from the back window. After he

  had hitched the horse to the buggy, he came into the kitchen to

  wash his hands. While he dried them on the roller towel, he said

  in his most business-like tone:

  "I likely won't be back tonight, Mandy. I have to go out to my

  farm, and I'll hardly get through my business there in time to come

  home."

  Then Mandy was sure. She had been through these times before, and

  at such a crisis poor Mr. Templeton was always called away on

  important business. When he had driven out through the alley and

  up the street past Mrs. Rosen's, Mandy left her dishes and went in

  to Mrs. Harris. She bent over and whispered low:

  "Miz' Harris, I 'spect Miss Victoria's done found out she's goin'

  to have another baby! It looks that way. She's gone back to bed."

  Mrs. Harris lifted a warning finger. "Sh-h-h!"

  "Oh yes'm, I won't say nothin'. I never do."

  Mrs. Harris tried to face this possibility, but her mind didn't

  seem strong enough--she dropped off into another doze.

  All that morning Mrs. Templeton lay on her bed alone, the room

  darkened and a handkerchief soaked in camphor tied round her

  forehead. The twins had taken Ronald
off to watch them cut grass,

  and Hughie played in the kitchen under Mandy's eye.

  Now and then Victoria sat upright on the edge of the bed, beat her

  hands together softly and looked desperately at the ceiling, then

  about at those frail, confining walls. If only she could meet the

  situation with violence, fight it, conquer it! But there was

  nothing for it but stupid animal patience. She would have to go

  through all that again, and nobody, not even Hillary, wanted

  another baby,--poor as they were, and in this overcrowded house.

  Anyhow, she told herself, she was ashamed to have another baby,

  when she had a daughter old enough to go to college! She was sick

  of it all; sick of dragging this chain of life that never let her

  rest and periodically knotted and overpowered her; made her ill and

  hideous for months, and then dropped another baby into her arms.

  She had had babies enough; and there ought to be an end to such

  apprehensions some time before you were old and ugly.

  She wanted to run away, back to Tennessee, and lead a free, gay

  life, as she had when she was first married. She could do a great

  deal more with freedom than ever Vickie could. She was still

  young, and she was still handsome; why must she be for ever shut up

  in a little cluttered house with children and fresh babies and an

  old woman and a stupid bound girl and a husband who wasn't very

  successful? Life hadn't brought her what she expected when she

  married Hillary Templeton; life hadn't used her right. She had

  tried to keep up appearances, to dress well with very little to do

  it on, to keep young for her husband and children. She had tried,

  she had tried! Mrs. Templeton buried her face in the pillow and

  smothered the sobs that shook the bed.

  Hillary Templeton, on his drive out through the sage-brush, up into

  the farming country that was irrigated from the North Platte, did

  not feel altogether cheerful, though he whistled and sang to

  himself on the way. He was sorry Victoria would have to go through

  another time. It was awkward just now, too, when he was so short

  of money. But he was naturally a cheerful man, modest in his

  demands upon fortune, and easily diverted from unpleasant thoughts.

  Before Cleveland had travelled half the eighteen miles to the farm,

  his master was already looking forward to a visit with his tenants,

  an old German couple who were fond of him because he never pushed

  them in a hard year--so far, all the years had been hard--and he

  sometimes brought them bananas and such delicacies from town.

  Mrs. Heyse would open her best preserves for him, he knew, and kill

  a chicken, and tonight he would have a clean bed in her spare room.

  She always put a vase of flowers in his room when he stayed

  overnight with them, and that pleased him very much. He felt like

  a youth out there, and forgot all the bills he had somehow to meet,

  and the loans he had made and couldn't collect. The Heyses kept

  bees and raised turkeys, and had honeysuckle vines running over the

  front porch. He loved all those things. Mr. Templeton touched

  Cleveland with the whip, and as they sped along into the grass

  country, sang softly:

  "Old Jesse was a gem'man,

  Way down in Tennessee."

  XIII

  Mandy had to manage the house herself that day, and she was not at

  all sorry. There wasn't a great deal of variety in her life, and

  she felt very important taking Mrs. Harris's place, giving the

  children their dinner, and carrying a plate of milk toast to Mrs.

  Templeton. She was worried about Mrs. Harris, however, and

  remarked to the children at noon that she thought somebody ought to

  "set" with their grandma. Vickie wasn't home for dinner. She had

  her father's office to herself for the day and was making the most

  of it, writing a long letter to Professor Chalmers. Mr. Rosen had