Read Girl to Come Home To Online
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
Just then Hetty tapped softly at the pantry door. “Mr. Roddy,” she whispered softly, using his old pet name by which she used to call him when he was a child, “I’se got some more good chicken for you, an’ some mashed taters real hot, an’ some o’ them yeller turnips you useta love so much, an’ nobody won’t know you’se here. They all think you’se gone away.”
Cautiously, Rod shoved away the chair he had braced under the latch of the door and held out his empty plate, grinning sheepishly.
Silently the old servant filled his plate with choice pieces and much hot gravy, added a cup of coffee and an extra understanding grin, and Rod attacked his second helping with much gusto. Somehow he would have to make his peace afterward with his mother, but after all, Mom always understood, and maybe she never had cared much for Jessica anyway. He tried to think back and began to see a glimmer of half disapproval in the past. Well, anyway, it was good to be at home, and his hunger was getting appeased. Good old Hetty, who had always understood, too! Now, whenever those stupid visitors departed, he could come out of hiding and be none the worse for wear.
As he finished off the last breast of chicken Hetty had brought him and started in on the applesauce and hot biscuits, he grinned across the kitchen at Hetty as she hovered just outside the dining room door with her ear trained near to a hearing crack and an interested eagerness on her kind old face.
He lifted his hand with a summoning gesture, and Hetty stole noiselessly across the smooth kitchen floor with a questioning look.
“Who’s in there, Hetty?” he asked. “Anybody I know?”
“Dey sure is!” said Hetty in her low, soft voice. “Dere’s Miss Emma Galt an’ Marcel’ Ashby. I reckon dey come in her car. And there’s dat rattle-pated Miss Jessie wif her fingers all dolled up in di-mon’s. ‘Rings on her fingers an’ bells on her toes,’ like de old hymn useta say. An’ she’s usin’ her tongue for bells for she’s done mos’ all dat talkin’ like she always done when she useta come ta see you. An’ she come ta see you dis time, too, leastways dat what she says, an’ now seems like she’s goin’ away ta hunt you up. It’s my ’pinion you all bettah get ta bed ’fore she gits back, or you’ll git caught fer sho.”
Noiselessly shaking her sides with laughter, old Hetty rolled softly away and took up her stand at the crack of the door again, until finally she came back to report that they were all getting ready to go, and pretty soon he could go back and finish his dessert with the family.
But Rodney was taking no chances. He waited patiently for Hetty’s signal. He even opened the pantry window a crack to wait until he heard the car driving away.
The cold air came in refreshingly against Rodney’s hot forehead, and the quiet out-of-doors seemed to make him understand that he must be patient. He ought to know by this time that those girls never left when they got to the door but just stayed and talked and talked. Well, this draft was getting chilly. He reached out and drew the window shut, and straightway his mind jumped back to the present situation and what he was going to do next. Well, if those unwanted guests ever took themselves away definitely, he must go out at once to the dining room and make his peace with his family. It was going to be a bit embarrassing of course, but after all he had been through in the war, why should he mind a bit of embarrassment? It certainly would be great to get his family alone again.
Eventually the group in the dining room gathered themselves in the hall to leave, and Kathleen went to the door with them. The rest of the family remained seated in silence until Kathleen came back and sat down. They waited even then a second or two till the sound of the retreating car driving away came to their ears, and then Father looked up with a comical twinkle in his eyes.
“Now,” he inquired mildly, “Is it perfectly safe to ask what this is all about? And does anybody know what suddenly became of Rodney?”
They all burst into laughter, and the sweet homey sound of it reached to the kitchen, even as Mother Graeme reached out and tinkled the little silver bell for Hetty to take the plates and bring the dessert.
“Do you know what this is all about, Son?” asked the father, appealing to Jeremy innocently.
“Why certainly, Dad,” answered Jeremy jovially. “It simply means that someone was about to come in that Rod didn’t want to see, and he scrammed. That was perfectly natural, don’t you think?”
“Well, yes—how do you say it? ‘Could be’? But there was more than
one
somebody here.
Which
one?”
Jeremy grinned at his father. “Do you have to ask that? Wasn’t it obvious?”
The father sat thoughtfully for an instant, and then he said slowly, nodding his head half amusedly, “Yes? I suppose you are referring to the glittering one. If that’s so, I wouldn’t judge Rod
would
want to see her. A girl that would turn down a single real good stone for a display like that! I’m not surprised! I somehow thought that Rod would find out what the girl was before it was too late! Well, we’ve got nothing to worry about in her loss. And now, where’s Rod?”
“He’s right here in my kitchen,” said Hetty, appearing on time with her tray in her hands and beginning to gather up the plates. “Dat boy ain’t ferget what ta do when he’s hungry, no mattah who barges inta de dinin’ room.”
“Oh, so he’s up with the program, is he, and doesn’t have to be waited for while he catches up on the first course?” said the smiling father.
“No sah, he ain’t behind. Fact is, he’s had somethin’ like three good-sized helpin’s of the fust co’se.”
Mother Graeme’s smile and Mother Graeme’s eyes thanked faithful old Hetty.
“I knew he’d be all right in your hands, Hetty,” she murmured quietly as Hetty took her plate away.
“Yes, ma’am, I knowed you’d be sure o’ that,” answered Hetty happily.
It was just then that Rodney came grinning out of his hiding with a quick apprehensive glance toward his mother’s beloved eyes, a wink and a grin toward Jeremy, answered by a salute from the brother in true military style.
“Pretty slick, old man,” said Jeremy in an undertone as Rodney sat down.
Rod grinned like the sun shining from behind a thunderhead. Then with a courteous smile toward the family he added in his most pleasant voice, “Sorry folks, I couldn’t take time to say excuse me!”
And that understanding family only smiled comfortably. That was the great thing about that family, whether they understood or not, they always took startling things with a smile, quite as if they expected them.
But Jeremy was sure by this time that his mother understood. Just how much she understood, or how it had come about that she knew anything about it, didn’t matter. Mom was all right, and she would never bungle things by throwing a monkey wrench into the works.
So the happy silence settled comfortably down upon this reunited family, and they were just getting ready to savor the joy of it all, when there came another interruption.
But this time it was not the sound of the doorbell but the rattle of a latchkey in the lock, and they all looked up astonished. Evidently Kathleen had locked the door after the guests left, but who had a latchkey? Their eyes went around the circle, a question in each face, and Rodney sprang to his feet as if for another flight. This was an evening of surprises. Who was using that latchkey?
There were only three outside the immediate family who had a latchkey to that front door. One was Hetty, of course, for the rare occasions when she took her day off and went out to spend it with some of her old friends. The second was Mrs. Graeme’s brother now overseas on confidential business for the government and not likely to return for some months. The third key was in the hands of the widow of a distant cousin of Mr. Graeme who had spent some weeks with the family, professedly on business connected with her late husband’s will. She had recently departed for another city and had neglected to return her latchkey. Her departure had been a great relief for the family, and they had not anticipated her soon return, so when they heard someone walk into the door after Kathleen had locked it they could not understand it.
But Cousin Louella Chatterton was stealthy. She came quietly, for she loved surprise effects, and it also gave her the advantage of hearing words not intended for her ears. So she stood silently observing them, and not a thing missed her sharp eyes.
Suddenly Rodney subsided and dropped easily back to his chair again, slickly as if he had not intended otherwise.
“Yes, Rodney, it’s no use for you to attempt to slide away,” said Cousin Louella. “I was too quick for you. You can’t get by with a thing like that with me. I know what I’m about.”
Rodney grinned. “Could be,” he said mischievously. “I haven’t seen you in a good many years, but you certainly sound to be in good form.”
“Take care, now, Rodney!” said the lady, stiffening up as if Rodney were a child of three. “You needn’t try any of your impertinence on me. I know what you have just done, and I have come in for the distinct purpose of telling you just what I think of you. Of all the rude things for a young man still in the service to do, I think what you have just done was about the rudest. And you presuming to wear all those ribbons of honor on your breast and then running away when ladies, some of your oldest friends, came in to welcome you! I’m surprised. I really think this ought to be reported to your chief officer and you disciplined for it. What are we coming to when the men we have sacrificed for, and given bonds for, and sent munitions to, come home and perform like that? And the worst of it was that one of those girls was the girl who used to be your former fiancée, or maybe is yet for all I know. Though I have heard rumors that she is about to marry someone else. Did you know that, Margaret? Had you heard there was any break between your son and that lovely girl with the wonderful gold hair that he used to be so crazy about?”
Rodney went white, his black brows drawn in a terrible frown, but nobody but Jeremy saw him, and he looked quickly away toward his mother. How would she take this announcement?
But Margaret Graeme was a thoroughbred, and she lifted calm eyes to the unwelcome relative and answered in a low, quiet voice without a quaver in it, “Why certainly, Louella, that engagement was broken long ago, soon after Rodney went away to war.”
“It
was
? But Margaret, you
must
be mistaken about that. You know I was here for a long time and no one ever said
a word
about it to
me
.”
“Why should they, Louella? It wasn’t a matter that any but the two concerned had any right to talk over. Won’t you sit down and have a piece of Hetty’s lemon pie and a cup of coffee with us? Jerry, bring that chair over here by me for her.”
“Well, yes, I don’t mind if I do have a cup of coffee,” she said in a parenthesis, “but Margaret,
who
broke it, Rodney or the girl?”
Then before the gentle-voiced mother could reply, Rodney spoke up haughtily, “That’s not a matter for outsiders to discuss, Cousin Louella,” he said, and Jeremy, listening, caught the look that Rodney must have worn when he went out after the enemy and felt like cheering for him.
It was then that the wise, quiet father put in his voice. “Cousin Louella, did you ever succeed in getting in touch with that lawyer out west who had had to do with that property that you were so worried about when you were there last?”
The cousin turned, annoyed, and answered sharply, “No, I didn’t, not yet. We’ll talk of that later. You know, Donald, I hate to be interrupted when I’m talking about something else, and I’m not through with this matter yet. I want to know the truth about this before I speak of other things. Rodney, suppose you tell me the whole story, and then I shall know what to answer when I’m asked.”
Then Rodney sat up straight and faced the curious cousin sternly in most decided tones. “I’ve nothing to say, Cousin Louella, and I should think if anybody asked you impudent questions like that, the only answer would be to say it was none of their business.”
“Oh, but Rodney! That would not do at all. If the engagement is broken, why did that girl come here to see you tonight? Does she want to make it up?”
“I really don’t know,” said Rodney in a cold voice. “She couldn’t have known that I was here, unless some lousy sneak who had seen me get off the train told her. Even Mom didn’t know I was coming.”
“Oh,
I
told her,” said the cousin serenely. “I met her as I was coming away from the post office where I had stopped for a package. They sent me a notice that it had come for me postage due, and
I
told her.”
“Oh,
you
told her,” said Father Graeme. “And how did
you
know, Louella?” His face was grave and his voice very stern.
“Why, the taxicab driver told me. He saw the boys as they went across lots from the station, and he was eager to tell me. And later, coming out of the post office I met Jessica, and she said she wondered if Rodney had come home yet, and I said, yes, he had.”
“Oh,” said the master of the house. “Well, now, Louella, if you’ve got that off your chest I think you and I will go into the other room and talk over that matter of business.”
Mr. Graeme took his last bit of pie and the last swallow of coffee and arose with finality. But the persistent guest sat still, her full coffee cup in her hand, and shook her head with firm determination. “No indeed, Donald. I intend to finish this lovely pie and coffee before I talk business, but I certainly have to get a little more data about this broken engagement.”
The she took her first bite of her pie, and the children by common consent arose from the table and followed their father from the room, wearing amused and angry looks, if one can combine those two adjectives.
And there were only Margaret Graeme and Louella left at the table, while Louella took another bite of the pie and cast an eager inquiry toward her hostess. “Now, Margaret, they’ve gone, and you’ll tell me all about it, won’t you? I feel terribly hurt to have been left out of this important happening of the family. When did you first find it out, and weren’t you
terribly
disappointed and grieved?”