CHAPTER XII
IRENE’S BIRTHDAY
Unexpectedly, the next day Jasper Crosby came into the office withanother lot of his sister’s poems. This time they were in a tin boxwith padlock attached.
Judy listened in silence as the earlier manuscripts were discussed,wondering how Emily Grimshaw would break the news of theirdisappearance. Presently she realized that the poet’s brother was beingkept in ignorance of the whole affair. Worse than that, he was beingdeceived. What did the agent mean by saying the publishers wereconsidering Sarah Glenn’s work?
Thinking there might be some mistake, Judy refrained from askingquestions until she and her employer were alone again. Then sheexpressed herself frankly.
“It isn’t right,” she declared, “not to tell him the truth about thosepoems. We can’t publish them when they’re lost.”
“Tut, tut, child,” Miss Grimshaw reproved in a patronizing tone thatalways annoyed Judy. “You must never correct your elders. Haven’t youheard that there are tricks to all trades?”
“Not dishonest tricks.” Judy’s scruples about deceit and treachery hadmade her over-bold.
“Look here, Miss Bolton,” her employer cried. “If this position meansanything to you, learn to keep a civil tongue in your head. I haveevidence enough against you right now to place the blame on yourshoulders if I wanted to. The idea! Talking about dishonest tricks!Wasn’t it a dishonest trick that somebody played on me?”
“Yes, Miss Grimshaw,” Judy answered penitently. “I shouldn’t havespoken so hastily, and if you blame me....”
“But I don’t blame you, child. You’re as innocent as I am. That’s why Ihired you—because I knew I could trust you.”
This unexpected praise brought a flood of color to Judy’s cheeks. Shemumbled something intended for an acknowledgment. Not hearing theinterruption, her employer went on talking.
“I know we can’t keep putting Jasper Crosby off forever, but, don’t yousee, we must do it until the poems are found? I’m ruined if we don’t.”
“I suppose he would hold you responsible,” Judy ventured.
“He would exactly,” the agent declared. “He’d charge me with grossnegligence or something of the kind and sue me for more money thanSarah Glenn’s royalties would bring in a lifetime. He’s just crookedenough to get away with it. And,” she finished tragically, “all ourtime and work will go for nothing. Oh, Miss Bolton, if you can help me,won’t you do it? You’re clever. Perhaps you can figure it out. My mindgets all befuddled of late—ever since Joy Holiday came back. Find her.She’s got the papers.”
“I’ll do my best,” Judy promised, genuinely moved. She resolved totackle this new task her employer had given her with all theseriousness it demanded. But whom was there to suspect? Joy Holiday, asfar as she could figure out, was a creature of Miss Grimshaw’simagination, a ghost. Judy refused to believe in ghosts or befrightened by them. That angle of the mystery she dismissed as whollyimplausible. She had proved Dale Meredith’s innocence to her ownsatisfaction, and Irene hadn’t taken the poetry. Judy felt sure of that.
She was still sure the following Thursday when she and Pauline planneda birthday party for her. Dale happened to come in the office, and Judytold him. Together they arranged a surprise dinner. At first he wantedto take them to an exclusive restaurant but was soon won over when Judysuggested a meal served out on the roof garden. Pauline liked the idea,too, and found a great deal of pleasure in planning the menu. Shetelephoned to the market and ordered a good-sized capon; nuts, celeryand raisins were to go into the dressing. There would be fruit cups andsalads, and ice cream for dessert and, of course, a cake with candles.Judy came home early to make the cake. While Pauline helped Mary put onthe roast she continued fixing things, waiting for Dale who expected toarrive ahead of Irene.
“It looks great!” he exclaimed as soon as he opened the door and sawthe table set in the center of the roof garden. It was decorated withyellow candy cups and tall yellow candles. “And isn’t it lucky that Ibrought yellow flowers?”
“You knew we’d be decorating in yellow,” Pauline charged as she tookthe flowers and buried her face in their fragrance. Then, while Dalestood admiring the tasteful arrangement of the table, she placed themas an appropriate centerpiece. Everything was ready, and it was aftersix o’clock.
“Irene ought to be here,” Judy said anxiously. “I wonder where shewent.”
Pauline had seen her go out early that morning, carrying a borrowedbook.
“She’d stop in on her way home to return it. Dale, why don’t you andJudy go down to the bookstore and meet her?”
“Can’t you leave the dinner long enough to come with us?”
Pauline laughed. “I guess I could if you want me. There’s a chance ofmissing her, though. She may come from another direction.”
Dale helped Judy and Pauline with their wraps, and together they walkedtoward the bookstore. It was only a short distance, but the cool airfelt good to Judy after having spent all afternoon over the cake. Asthey walked they watched for Irene. She would be wearing a brown suitwith a close-fitting brown hat to match, Pauline said. The outfit wasnew and she wondered if, for that reason, they had missed her.
At the bookstore, however, the girl who took care of lending out booksfrom the circulating library told them that Miss Lang had not been insince morning when she returned a book.
“What could have happened to her?” Judy exclaimed in real concern.
“Perhaps she went out shopping to celebrate. I’ve seen girls shopbefore. They never leave the stores until closing time.”
“It’s closing time now.”
“And she’ll probably be waiting for us back at the house,” Daleprophesied cheerfully.
“Oh,” exclaimed Judy, “I hope she doesn’t peek in the ice box and seeher cake. I do believe I forgot to put Blackberry out, and if he smellsthat chicken....” She finished the sentence with a gesture ofhopelessness.
Blackberry was out—out on the roof garden—when they returned. Sensinga party in the air, he had taken advantage of his mistress’ absence andupset the vase of yellow flowers. There were bits of chewed flowerpetals and ferns scattered all about.
“You bad cat!” cried Judy, shaking him. “Just look what he’s done. AndIrene isn’t here yet! Let’s hurry and put the place in order before shecomes. Collect the flowers, Dale, won’t you? I think I can save a fewof these ferns.”
She was on her knees, hunting for pieces of them as she spoke.
“And I’ll get Mary to wipe up the water and put on a clean cloth,”Pauline offered.
Soon everything was in order again.
Oliver had hung a string of Japanese lanterns all the way across theroof garden. They were a little too low, and for a few more minutesDale and the girls busied themselves with a pole, raising them to ahigher level.
Meanwhile it had grown dark, and Judy suggested lighting the candles onthe table so that Irene would see them the moment she opened the door.Then they planned to call out, “Surprise!” all at once. Judy couldimagine the rest—Irene laughing, exclaiming, her two eyes like starsas she enjoyed her very first birthday party.
In the kitchen below a sizzling noise called Mary to the oven. Theroast needed basting again. It was too brown already, but she couldn’ttake it off and let it get cold. The potatoes had cracked open andtheir jackets were done to a crisp. She turned the flame as low as shedared and faced about to see Dale and the girls standing in the doorway.
“Getting hungry?” she asked.
“A little. Irene ought to be here by now.”
“I know it,” the housekeeper replied, “and the dinner will be spoiledif we let it wait much longer.”
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