Round the Corner in Gay Street Part 23

s.h.i.+rley could not see his face, but she heard his subdued exclamation as he gazed at the scene within. She knew what it was. The luncheon had reached the salad course. Jane was arranging plates picturesque with an enticing combination of ingredients, parti-coloured, crisp and cool. Her fair arms were bared to the elbow, her cheeks were flushed. At her right hand Mary was ready with a.s.sistance, her eyes respectfully studying the arrangement--not of the salad, but of her young mistress's hair, which was certainly worth studying for its effective simplicity.

The maid could never hope to match that daintiness of arrangement with her own ash-coloured locks, but she meant to try.

Murray turned about at last. "Well, by Jove!" he exploded, softly.

"How does this come about?"

s.h.i.+rley noiselessly closed the door and explained in a whisper.

Murray's eyes grew eloquent as he listened. "The little trump!" was his comment. "I wish I could stay till she's finished. I suppose it would n't do to call her out now?"

"Mercy, no! You might upset her. So far I don't think the least thing has gone wrong."

"What possessed mother to put the thing through, anyhow? Jane ought to be in there with the others."

"It was something about entertaining Mrs. Arlo Stevenson. Mother felt it must be done, though the heavens fell. They nearly did fall, till Jane came under and held them up. As for Jane's being at the table--she did n't want to be there. And Olive would n't be, without her, so there's nothing noticeable. They 're all women of mother 's age--on some special board of charities, or something like that, that makes them congenial."

"Its making them congenial does n't necessarily follow, unfortunately.

So Olive stayed out, did she? That's one count for Olive. Why is n't she helping Jane, though?"

"Jane would n't have either of us in the kitchen. Olive did the flowers, and Norah and I the table. I got in an English fas.h.i.+on or two that will either drive mother to distraction or fill her with pride. I forgot to tell her," and s.h.i.+rley began to laugh. She led Murray away to safer regions, but he looked at his watch and said he must be off.

"Wasn't it worth coming up for?" she demanded.

"No question of that. Much obliged for letting me know. I 'll settle with Jane later. Take her out for a drive, or something, to cool her off, will you? Good bye!" And Murray vanished, smiling to himself.

"That ought to make her pretty solid with mother," he reflected, as he raced to his car.

But when the last guest had rustled away, Mrs. Townsend was in no condition to fall upon Jane's neck and overwhelm her with thanks.

Instead she had to be carried to her room by Phelps, the coachman--summoned in haste from the stable--and put to bed by her daughters. Her physician arrived in short order, and his edict, when he had telephoned for a nurse, was stern.

"When you society women stop putting yourselves through a grind that no strong man could stand up under, you will get a grip upon your nerves,"

said he. "Mrs. Townsend was at the end of her forces two months ago, and I told her so. She has simply been keeping up on will--with the inevitable result. The moment she is fit to travel she must get off to the quietest place on my list--and stay there. Home would be a better place for her, if she would obey the rules; but she won 't, so that settles it. And you, Miss Olive"--he turned abruptly to the elder daughter of the house--"would do well to go with her. It's evident you 've been travelling along the same road."

"O Doctor Warrener, how absurd you are! I 'm perfectly well. And I 've half a dozen invitations to lovely places. They 'll do me far more good than going to some invalid resort and taking baths."

He shook his head. "You're all alike," said he. "I may talk till I 'm dumb--you 'll pay the price. And when you 've paid it, you 'll remember."

"There are two," said Olive, indicating Jane and s.h.i.+rley, "who will never have nervous prostration on account of overdoing society."

Doctor Warrener surveyed them, and the grimness of his face relaxed.

"I'll acquit them on their faces," said he. "Tell your husband, Mrs.

Murray, to shut you up in a bandbox--or, better, take you off West to that place where he got back his health--before he lets you drift into the swirl. As for s.h.i.+rley,"--he laid his hand upon her shoulder--"if I'm any reader of destiny--and I ought to be--she 's going to swing that tennis racquet for several years yet before she gives up and settles down."

All this had happened before Mr. Townsend and Murray came home. Mrs.

Townsend's breakdowns after fatigue in fulfilling her engagements, and the summoning of the doctor, had become too frequent occurrences to imply the sending for her husband. The orders away, for rest and recuperation, were also, within the last few years, of semi-annual recurrence.

"It simply means," said Murray, pacing with Jane up and down the long flower-bordered walk between the house and the tennis-court, "it simply means six weeks or two months for you to try your hand at being mistress of the establishment. And judging by what I saw that hand do to-day----"

Jane looked quickly up at him.

"I should say that it was competent to run anything. That salad was a--what do women say?--a symphony--a star. Not that I care much for salads myself, but to see you putting it together----"

"Murray--you didn 't!"

"Didn't I? You had on a pink-and-white checked ap.r.o.n that came up over your shoulders. Your sleeves were short, and your hair curled round your ears, the way it does on damp days. You----"

"Where were you? How did you know! Who----"

"I was on the other side of the door, which you forgot to lock. Never in my life was I so bowled over by the sight of a girl in a kitchen."

"If I had known you were looking----"

"Precisely. That was why s.h.i.+rley wouldn't let me call you out. Of course I should have kissed you--I never felt more like it--and that might have endangered the composition of the salad."

"I 'm afraid it would," laughed Jane. "As it was, I made the one real mistake of the luncheon--I sent that salad in on the game plates! The girls were in such a flurry they did n't notice till the plates began to come out again. I hope mother did n't mind very much."

"I 'll warrant n.o.body else did. Mrs. Arlo Stevenson is as short-sighted as an owl in the day-time, and as I understand it, Mrs. Stevenson was the guest who counted--goodness knows why! I think she's insufferable.

I 'm glad mother 's got her off her mind, for the time being. It will give her a chance to recuperate. Poor mother! She misses a lot of fun, does n't she?"

"She thinks it's we who miss it."

"Perhaps we can show her better some day--when we 've been very good and earned that house by ourselves. Hi! What?" exclaimed Murray. "How you jumped! Did you think that house by ourselves was n't really to materialise some day?"

"I--wasn't sure." Jane's voice was low. She did not mean to show how much she cared, or how she longed to believe definitely in a prospect which, as yet, had not been in so many words held out to her.

"Why, it's a certainty! Have n't I made that clear, little girl? You know, when I told you how anxious father was to have us live with them, I said it would n't be for all time. Don't you remember that?"

"I know. But I thought----"

"You thought, I see, it meant while he needed me, which would be as long as he lived. No, he does n't insist on that. It was to be only while he stayed an active partner in the business. He wanted me at his elbow, and I did n't feel like refusing him. He means to retire within five years--or sooner, if his health shows signs of breaking. Then he understands that I 'm to have a home by myself--build one, you know.

Well, well, what a squeeze my arm is getting! Are you so glad?"

"I'm pretty glad. It's not that--that this place is n't pleasant, and everybody more than kind, but----"

"You needn't be afraid to tell me--in fact, you don't need to tell me.

You 're too much of a born Jenny Wren not to want to feather your own nest. And I want to see you do it. We 'll begin to look over plans.

We can talk about it and think about it----"

"No, we can't, Murray."

"Why not? Isn't antic.i.p.ation----"

"Yes, but it would make it harder to wait. Now I know it's sure, I can----"

"Be good?" said her husband. "You are being good--heavenly. What you did to-day--well, if you could have known what I thought about you when I saw you out there putting those pretty shoulders to the domestic wheel--proud is n't the name for it. And let me tell you, Janey Townsend, it is n't every girl who could take command of the forces and have them working for you at the top of their ability, like that. Norah has n't a nose and chin of that perky shape for nothing; and Mary can soldier for fair when she chooses. As for Sophy--but you had Sophy for your own from the start. And it 's not been done with tips, either, has it? Honestly, now, have you ever given Sophy a tip since you came to the house?"

"A tip?" said Jane. "Money, you mean? Why, no. Should I? I never thought of it. Does she expect it?"

"She probably doesn't now--from you--or want it, as long as you reward her with your smiles and ask about her invalid brother, the way I overheard you doing the other day. She'd probably rather have your friendly interest than all Olive's dollar bills. Oh, there are several ways of winning people's loyalty, dear--and yours is the best. Only everybody can't do it. Do you know, gentle Jane, I 'm a good deal interested in seeing you in the role of mistress of this house for a while?"

"Murray, I 'm so doubtful about it!"