Gaslight Sonatas Part 54

"No, sir-ree!"

"I must be going now, Mr. Haas. My mother--"

"That's right. The minute a man tries to break the ice with this little lady, it's a freeze-out. Now what did I say so bad? In business, too. Never seen the like. It's like trying to swat a fly to come down on you at the right minute. But now, with you for a nothing-in-law, I got rights."

"If--you ain't the limit, Mr. Haas!"

"Don't mind saying it, Mrs. C., and, for a bachelor, they tell me I'm not the worst judge in the world, but there's not a woman on the floor stacks up like you do."

"Well--of all things!"

"Mean it."

"My mother, Mr. Haas, she--"

"And if anybody should ask you if I've got you on my mind or not, well, I've already got the letters out on that little matter of the pa.s.sports you spoke to me about. If there's a way to fix that up for you, and leave it to me to find it, I--"

She sprang now, trembling, to her feet, all the red of the moment receding.

"Mr. Haas, I--I must go now. My--mother--"

He took her arm, winding her in and out among crowded-out chairs behind the dais.

"I wish it to every mother to have a daughter like you, Mrs. C."

"No! No!" she said, stumbling rather wildly through the chairs. "No! No!

No!"

He forged ahead, clearing her path of them.

Beside the potted hydrangea, well back and yet within an easy view, Mrs.

Horowitz, her gilt armchair well cus.h.i.+oned for the occasion, and her black grenadine spread decently about her, looked out upon the scene, her slightly palsied head well forward.

"Mama, you got enough? You wouldn't have missed it, eh? A crowd of people we can be proud to entertain. Not? Come; sit quiet in another room for a while, and then Mr. Haas, with his nice big car, will drive us all home again. You know Mr. Haas, dearie--Lester's uncle that had us drove so careful in his fine car. You remember, dearie--Lester's uncle?"

Mrs. Horowitz looked up, her old face crackling to smile.

"My grandchild! My grandchild! She'm a fine one. Not? My grandchild! My grandchild!"

"You--mustn't mind, Mr. Haas. That's--the way she's done since--since she's--sick. Keeps repeating--"

"My grandchild! From a good mother and a bad father comes a good grandchild. My grandchild! She'm a good one. My--"

"Mama dearie, Mr. Haas is in a hurry. He's come to help me walk you into a little room to rest before we go home in Mr. Haas's big, fine auto. Where you can go and rest, mama, and read the newspapers. Come."

"My back--_ach_--my back!"

"Yes, yes, mama; we'll fix it. Up! So--la!"

They raised her by the crook of each arm, gently.

"So! Please, Mr. Haas, the pillows. Shawl. There!"

Around a rear hallway, they were almost immediately into a blank, staring hotel bedroom, fresh towels on the furniture-tops only enhancing its staleness.

"Here we are. Sit her here, Mr. Haas, in this rocker."

They lowered her, almost inch by inch, sliding down pillows, against the chair-back.

"Now, s.h.i.+la's little mama want to sleep?"

"I got--no rest--no rest."

"You're too excited, honey; that's all."

"No rest."

"Here--here's a brand-new hotel Bible on the table, dearie. Shall s.h.i.+la read it to you?"

"Aylorff--"

"Now, now, mama. Now, now; you mustn't! Didn't you promise s.h.i.+la? Look!

See, here's a wreath wrapped in your shawl for s.h.i.+la's little mama to work on. Plenty of wreaths for us to take back. Work awhile, dearie, and then we'll get Selene and Lester, and, after all the nice company goes away, we'll go home in the auto."

"I begged he should keep in his hate--his feet in the--"

"I know! The papers! That's what little mama wants. Mr. Haas, that's what she likes better than anything--the evening papers."

"I'll go down and send 'em right up with a boy, and telephone for the car.

The crowd's beginning to pour out now. Just hold your horses there, Mrs.

C., and I'll have those papers up here in a jiffy."

He was already closing the door after him, letting in and shutting out a flare of music.

"See, mama, nice Mr. Haas is getting us the papers. Nice evening papers for s.h.i.+la's mama." She leaned down into the recesses of the black grenadine, withdrawing from one of the pockets a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles, adjusting them with some difficulty to the nodding head. "s.h.i.+la's--little mama! s.h.i.+la's mama!"

"Aylorff, the littlest wreath for--Aylorff--_Meine Krantze_--"

"Yes, yes."

"_Mem Mann. Mein Suhn_."

"'Shh-h-h, dearie!"

"Aylorff--_der klenste Kranz far ihm_!"

"'Shh-h-h, dearie! Talk English, like Selene wants. Wait till we get on the s.h.i.+p--the beautiful s.h.i.+p to take us back. Mama, see out the window! Look!

That's the beautiful Forest Park, and this is the fine Hotel Walsingham just across. See out! Selene is going to have a flat on--"