They laughed together pleasantly over that, and if there was a bit of artificiality in Mary's laugh, the invalid did not notice it.
So they talked until it began to get dark, and suddenly Mary Challenger remembered that night had come upon her and she had as yet no way to get to her boy who was in trouble. She was no nearer a decision about what to do than when the telegram first came. She had an inexpressible longing to lay her head down on the shoulder that until this last six months had always been so strong to shelter her from all sorts of trouble and to just have her husband take the decisions from her and tell her what to do. Yet she knew that she must not. That if he knew all that was weighing upon her at this moment, it might be fatal to him. The doctor had warned her most effectually not to startle or alarm him in any way until his heart was in a condition to bear it.
So she summoned a smile as best she could, glanced at her watch, and got up in a hurry.
"Why, it is almost dark," she said brightly, "and I must hurry along. There are some things I must get on the way for dinner."
And so, hurrying, lest she break into a forlorn sob, she left him with a smile, which almost turned to tears as she went out the door. When she reached home, she found Phyllis was still absent.
Rosalie was sitting in a forlorn little heap in the big chair looking out of the window watching for her, tears on her cheeks, her eyes wide with frightening imaginings. She had read the note that Melissa left, and her young heart was beating excitedly as the dark came down, but in her hand she clutched a fifty-cent piece that she had earned by caring for a baby next door to Brady's while its mother went to a funeral.
She rushed to her mother with a sob and clutched her close, and then in the same breath she began to tell her about the fifty-cent piece.
"Look, Mother, a whole half dollar! I earned it myself! I prayed that I might have a chance, and I did. Wasn't that wonderful?"
The mother smothered a worry, wondering if it was quite right to let the child pray constantly for small material trifles, and then remembered that she herself was praying for larger ones. The first cents were as much needed in the household as the larger sum she needed. She sank down in a chair, too weary to question it or think it out, only wishing that she knew whether God really cared. Well, she had done her best, anyway, gone to all five of those terrible men and not been able to find one. Surely God would realize.
But her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Rosalie handing her Melissa's note.
"Look, Mother, what Lissa's done. Are you pleased that she did it? Or were you going to send Phyllie the way you said this morning?"
The mother roused suddenly and read the note, and the terrors and disappointments of the day suddenly fell into oblivion beside this new order of things. Melissa had gone to her brother! Melissa, taking things in her own hands! She somehow felt an instant alarm that would not have been present had it been Phyllis who had gone. Phyllis was so sober and dependable, and Melissa was so very pretty and impulsive.
White and anxious, the mother read the note over again, and her fearful heart saw all the possibilities for worry that it contained. Where was Phyllis? Why hadn't she come? It was very dark now, and a glance about the room showed no preparations for dinner. How very strange. It was not like Phyllis, who was always so solicitous for her mother's comfort.
"How did you get in, Rosalie?" she suddenly asked.
"Why the Butcher-Brady man unlocked the door for me. He said he knew my sisters were away and you had gone, and he thought I might not like to come into the house alone. So he came over and started the fire and lit the lights and said he'd be back before long if he didn't see some folks coming."
"How kind he is," murmured the distracted woman.
"There he is now," said Rosalie, running to the door to let him in.
The butcher loomed in the doorway with a hot dish covered with a napkin in his hands.
"The missus sent this meat pie over. She thought ya might not have time fer much cooking tanight, and being as one of the girls is away, we thought it might come in handy."
"Oh, how kind you are!" said Mrs. Challenger, rising. "You really mustn't put us under so much obligation. I don't know that we shall ever be able to repay it on this earth."
"That's all right, ma'am," said Brady with a big grin. "We're just doin' it because we like ya, the missus and me, so don't spoil our pleasure. I was comin' over anyway, seein' as I promised the little lady this mornin' that I'd give ya her message. She left the key with me and wanted I should tell ya she was all right. She seemed afraid you might not find her note. I hope it didn't worry ya any."
Mrs. Challenger's face clouded over anxiously again.
"But I am worried, Mr. Brady," she said. "I don't know these people she went with at all. I don't think Melissa did."
"I ast her did she know the chap, an' she said she knew who he was, she'd heard her brother talk about him in some of their sports, she'd seen his picture. I went out and sized up the guy. He didn't look like much, but it was a swell outfit. He had an old dame in the backseat, his mother, your girl said it was. She was all dolled up in furs, and they had a peach of a car. Ef I'd only dared, though, I'd a made her wait till you got back. But I guess you needn't worry. They oughtta be gettin' there about now. She'll likely phone, won't she?"
"Oh, I don't know!" said the distracted mother. "She's never been away from home alone, except to college, and then her father took her there and she came back with friends."
"Oh, she knows her way about," said the butcher confidently. "She'll make out."
"But she hadn't but two dollars with her," said the mother, wild at the new thought.
"No, you're mistaken about that," said the big man, looking sheepish. "I ast her did she have money enough, and she said yes, she had two dollars and wouldn't need any more because they were bringing her back day after tamorrow. But I couldn't see a nice pretty girl like that goin' off without money in case of an emergency, so I just loaned her enough to make her safe. Oh, you needn't worry. She didn't wantta take it. She said her mother wouldn't like it and all that, but I made her; see, I told her she didn't have ta spend it unless she got in a tight place and she could bring it all back with her again, and no harm done if there didn't come a need of it, so at last I got her ta take it. Gave her two safety pins and made her go back by my desk and pin it tight inside her dress, so you don't need ta worry a mite. She'll be all right."
"How very good you are, Mr. Brady!" said the mother with her eyes full of tears. "I can't ever, ever thank you enough."
"Aw, that's nothin'," said the big pleased man, grinning. "I kep'a thinkin', suppose she was my child, an' you had a chance ta help her out a bit! There, now you just set down an' eat yer supper while it's hot. Where's Bob? Ain't he come home yet?"
"He's coming now," announced Rosalie, who had her face anxiously plastered against the window; and just then with a stamp and a bang of the door the boy entered.
"What's the matter, Robert?" asked his mother, aghast. For Robert had a great pad of antiseptic gauze over one eye, held on by neat crossbars of adhesive tape.
"Aw, nothin' much! I just had a fight with a feller at school. He got fresh about my little sister, and I let him see where ta get off. He's got a worse eye'n I have, all righty!"
"Robert! My child! Fighting! Who put that bandage on your eye? Have you been to the doctor?"
"Aw, Ma, don't get fussy!" said Bob, drawing away from her anxious grasp. "It's awright! It was right in front of the hospital it happened, and some guy took us in there. It's only a little bruise. It don't hurt much. The house doctor said it would be all right in a few days. Anyway, I couldn't let that kid get fresh about my little sister, could I?"
"Who was it, Robert?" asked Rosalie, her eyes wide with unspeakable things.
"Aw, just that Flip Whiting. You don't needta worry, Rosy. I beat him up, all right, ef he is bigger'n I am."
Mrs. Challenger moaned, but the big butcher grinned.
"G
ood boy!" he said with a clap on Bob's shoulder. "You'll do. You c'n take care o' your fambly all right. Your mom's got good right ta be proud of ya. But where's yer other sister? Miss Phyllis? I seen her go down the street this morning just afore Miss Melissa come ta leave me the key. Ain't she come back yet?"
"Oh no!" said the mother, rising with a new anxiety in her eyes. "I wonder what can have happened to Phyllis? She's always so thoughtful not to worry me."
"Where'd she go?" asked Brady.
"She said she was going to hunt a job. She didn't want to tell us what she had in mind till she would see if it came to anything. It didn't worry me because she's always so dependable, and she knows the city well. But--oh, it seems as if everything, just everything was happening to us now."
"There! There! Now don'tcha worry!" coaxed Brady. "She'll turn up all right. She's maybe got a job and hadta wait er something. She'll come in soon. It ain't late. You folks just get yer supper on and begin to eat. She'll come walkin' in before ya know it, and ef she don't come pretty soon, I'll get busy and find her. Don'tcha worry!"
"Oh," said Mrs. Challenger with a bit of hysterical laugh, "you'll think we are more trouble than a whole orphan asylum!"
"No trouble at all. All my pleasure," he said gallantly and waved aside her thanks, hurrying away with assurance that he would be back later to make sure Miss Phyllis had arrived safely.
The children were instantly eager as soon as the door closed.
"Gee! That meat pie smells good!" said Bob. "We don't havta wait for Phyl to come to eat, do we? I'm starved, I am."
"Why, no, I guess not," said the mother, casting an anxious eye toward the darkening window. "She ought to be here pretty soon, but we can keep her share warm, of course. No, go ahead and let's have supper. Oh dear, I wish she would come. There seems to be so many things to worry about."
"Don't worry, Mother dear," said Rosalie earnestly, "it will all come right. I'm just sure it will."
"I wish I had your faith!" said the mother bitterly, turning to take her things off.
Rosalie flew around setting the table, putting on the butter and milk and bread, and warming up the coffee that was left from breakfast, and presently they sat down.
Mrs. Challenger put some of the delicious food on her plate and sat before it, for the sake of the children, but ate very little. Her eyes were constantly turning toward the window, and she started at every sound from the street. There really were so many things to worry about that she did not know which to concentrate upon. Father, Steve, the borrowed automobile, Melissa, Phyllis, and Bob's eye. She cast a glance, too, at Rosalie. Her delicate baby exposed to the coarseness of the common horde of children. The public school in that peculiar quarter of the city filled with children from the lower walks of life was no place for their cherished daughter to go. If her father knew it, he would be frantic. But what could she do about it? If only Phyllis would come! Where could Phyllis be?
But nine o'clock came, and then half past, and no Phyllis. Quarter of ten! She had not come!
At ten minutes after ten, Brady looked in to see if she had arrived, and he went away with cheerful encouragement upon his lips but an anxious look in his eyes.
CHAPTER NINE
Melissa had not been a half hour on the way before she discovered that most emphatically her mother would never have selected the Hollister family to chaperone her on her journey.
Mrs. Hollister and her massive furs were spread out on the backseat of the car, occupying it most fully, and she made no move to shove over and make room for Melissa as her son introduced her. The young man put her into the car beside himself, and even through traffic it became apparent that his mind was far more on carrying on a conversation with her than on guiding his car.
They had several hairbreadth escapes from smashing into cars, and once a traffic cop stopped the car and administered some angry words, but the young man only laughed in his face and tossed him a bill as he drove on.
Out of traffic at last, speeding along the highway, no other car could possibly pass them, and they spun past everything in their path at a rate of speed that made even Melissa, who loved thrills, catch her breath many times. She realized keenly that if her mother could see her, she would be really alarmed.
But as the day passed on and she grew better acquainted with Gene Hollister, she became more and more uneasy. For one thing, though he was driving like mad most of the time, he persisted every now and then in throwing one arm across the back of the seat and snuggling her up to him intimately.
The first time he did it she was frightened and mortified. What would his mother think of him--of her--allowing such a thing? She drew away instantly, though trying to do it so casually that it would appear that she had not really done it at all. She did not want him to know that she recognized what he had done. Her cheeks blazed, and her heart beat with frightened throbs. Probably he would think she wasn't at all sophisticated, but she could not help it. She had been brought up to regard such intimacies as unpardonable, and the handsome rowdy seemed suddenly coarse and rude to her, yet she did not want to make him angry. He was of course doing her a favor, which made it awkward in the extreme. And probably he thought nothing of hugging a girl, any girl, and would laugh at her for a poor prude if she protested.
She tried to get a glimpse of his mother's face in the little mirror up over the windshield and discovered it bland and satisfied and sound asleep, which made her still more uncomfortable. She found it most disturbing to feel herself practically alone with a possessive stranger in this headlong flight through space. It was exciting of course, rather wonderful when one stopped to think about it and remember yesterday, that she, Melissa Challenger, should be riding away in this expensive car and having the undivided attention of a young man who probably counted his fortune by the millions. It would be something to tell about when she got home. At the same time, she owned frankly to herself that she would be really glad when the experience was over, for she had a feeling that she didn't know what he might do next.
He was telling her that if she just had a touch of lipstick on her lips, her mouth would be pretty enough to kiss, when a sudden lurch of the car as he swerved to pass a great moving van shook the placid chaperone out of her nap and brought her into the picture again.
With a feeling that she had had a couple of narrow escapes, Melissa slid over to the extreme far side of the seat and half turned around to call Mrs. Hollister's attention to a dim purple mountain in the distance. Just in time she was, for the plump eyelids were beginning to blink again, and the whole bulky mountain of flesh was about to nod back into unconsciousness as Melissa's fresh voice called her to attention.
She sat up with an effort and viewed the purple mirage indifferently.
"Very pretty! Very pretty, my dear. But say, Genie, darling, isn't it almost time we had a little refreshment of some sort? I feel almost as if I should be drowsy. A little drink would wake us up."
"Sure thing!" agreed Eugene. "Just as quick as I see a likely place where they'll have something real."
Melissa was not alarmed at these words, being far too ignorant of the ways of the world and the road to take anything special out of such a suggestion. In fact, she welcomed the idea. She was healthily hungry, for the oatmeal and milk and bacon and toast of the morning had become a forgotten dream in the excitements of the last two hours.
But when they drew up at a doubtful-looking roadside pavilion on the edge of a woods and they were seated at one of the rustic tables, she discovered that it was not to eat but to drink that they had stopped their journey, and not water they were supposed to drink, not even soda water. The names of liquors that had until now been, to Melissa, merely names were bandied about familiarly in the Hollisters' attempt to get something that they considered really worth drinking. They seemed utterly amazed and not a little disgusted with her that she ordered only a glass of milk and would not be entreated to taste any of the liquors offered. They were having pretzels with their drinks
, so Melissa ordered a hot dog and satisfied her hunger.
Mamma Hollister, after a brief bit of chatter after lunch, during which she smilingly let a great many family cats out of their respective bags and aired several family skeletons merrily, including her son Gene's recent divorce suit, settled off into another nap.
Melissa, feeling that she was a little lost sheep strayed off willfully into the unknown world, set herself to talk to this man of the world on topics that would be safe and help her keep her distance and her self-respect. She tried scenery, and discovering that he had been abroad several times, she began to ply him with questions about Swiss scenery, the Alps, Italy, and France, but he veered at once to questionable stories of Parisian nightclubs and girls he had known abroad. She tried the subject of books, and he gave her a five-minute account of a story that she had heard of only because it had been banned. Then he slipped into talk about the movies and stars he had known, told anecdotes that made her feel as if she had been caught in the flow of a sewer, laughed heartily at his own rotten jokes, and ragged her about her own solemnity. He asked her if she had no sense of humor, and she tried to change the subject again back to the safety of college life, relating some of her own experiences that she had always counted most thrilling, escapades of such comparative innocence that he stared at her as if she had been a child of three masquerading as a woman. Then he went on to tell some of his own flagrant college stories, and her eyes grew wide with dismay, remembering that this college of which he was talking was the very one in which her brother had spent four years. Had Steve been through things like this? Did he know that such things went on? Oh, this couldn't all be true! Surely this man must be just talking to astonish her!
She sat back silent, displeased, wondering what to do to bring the conversation back to a sane, normal place. Her head ached, her face was burning with shame, and her eyes were heavy with weariness and excitement.