XXI
Egged on by Nannie, John, though temporarily distracted by other matters, had not relinquished his determination to secure a servant, and one morning, as the result of his efforts, a girl from an employment agency presented herself.
“My name is Grace Stanley,” she announced, handing Lucy the note of introduction which John had sent, “and I do no washing, ironing, or mending, and I want Thursday and Saturday afternoons off. Of course I’ll stay today,” she concluded.
Lucy, whose protests had been in vain, had been warned of John’s intention the morning before and now without comment led the girl to the servant’s room.
About noon Nannie appeared, carefully made up and tastefully dressed in a white and green linen gown. The new servant had removed her corsets and exchanged her shoes for felt house slippers. And, when Nannie entered the dining room, was cleaning the silver ware. Grace, from the corner of her eye, gave Mrs. Merwent a shrewd glance.
“Good morning,” said Nannie, passing on to the next room where she sat down to the piano.
She finished running over some music and turned on the stool.
“My, but you sing pretty!” exclaimed Grace, who had been watching unnoticed in the doorway.
“Thank you.” Nannie smiled condescendingly, rising to pick up a volume of songs which she had laid on a nearby chair.
“Is there anything I can do for you before I start luncheon, Mrs. Winter?” the servant inquired, still hesitating in the doorway.
“I am Mrs. Merwent. Mrs. Winter is my daughter. Yes, you can come upstairs with me and I will show you how I wish my room done every day.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Merwent,” acceded Grace. And the two went upstairs together.
“I surely never would have taken you to be Mrs. Winter’s mother,” the girl asserted with conviction, as they entered Nannie’s room.
“Grace!” Lucy called from the lower hall a few minutes later. “Where are you, Grace?”
“I’m busy, Mrs. Winter,” the girl called in answer.
“Well, leave whatever you are doing. I want you to begin luncheon. It’s late already.”
“I can’t come now, Mrs. Winter,” was Grace’s retort. “I’m helping Mrs. Merwent.”
“Wait a minute, Lucy. I’m explaining the work to Grace,” Nannie shouted impatiently.
Lucy went to the kitchen and began to prepare the meal herself.
“Is that a picture of you, Mrs. Merwent?” Grace was asking Nannie, pointing to a photograph on the dressing table.
“Yes, but it was taken a long time ago,” Nannie explained modestly.
“It’s a good likeness,” declared Grace.
“Oh, I look lots older than that now!” protested Nannie.
“Well, maybe you do look a teeny bit older, but I didn’t notice it,” Grace admitted, scrutinizing the picture again. “Ain’t Mrs. Winter your stepdaughter?” she pursued.
“No. She’s my own daughter,” confessed Nannie.
“My, but you must have got married young!” exclaimed the girl.
“Now, you can go down and help Mrs. Winter,” suggested Nannie pleasantly. “You understand how I want things. And don’t forget to do my room first always.”
“I’ll not forget,” Grace promised, “and whenever you want anything, you just call me, Mrs. Merwent.”
“I will, thank you, Grace.” Nannie smiled, and the servant descended to the kitchen.
Lucy was looking hot and tired when luncheon was served.
“Why is it that Jimmie always goes so early to kindergarten nowadays?” Mrs. Merwent asked her when they had seated themselves at the table.
“He goes over to Mrs. Hamilton’s after his breakfast,” replied Lucy, “and the wagon calls there for both children.”
“I should think you would let him go from here,” observed Nannie. “I don’t see the advantage of his going over to Mrs. Hamilton’s so early. And after he comes back you always send him or take him some place. A child ought not to be away from home so much. It’s not good for him.”
Lucy made no answer.
“One would think that you’d like to see more of your child, Lucy. I used to be miserable when you were at school. But it looks as though you send him away on purpose. Perhaps you want to keep him away from my evil influence?”
Lucy continued silent.
“Why don’t you say right out, Lucy, that you don’t want me to have anything to do with him?”
“That isn’t true, Mamma, that I don’t want you to see anything of him.”
“I suppose, then, you didn’t send him to kindergarten to get him away from me?”
“Well, I thought he bothered you a great deal, Mamma, and you and he are always quarreling.”
“Quarreling! I quarrel with a five year old child! You have a very dignified mother, I must say! No, that excuse won’t work. The real reason is that you want to estrange the child from me so you can have his affection all for yourself.”
“No, Mamma. That’s not so. But I do think it is bad for Dimmie to have you correcting him every time he breathes. Children should have a great deal of consideration.”
“And I have no consideration for him! I nag him every time he breathes! Lucy, of all the unjust, unkind things to say, and from my own daughter, too! After all I’ve gone through for you! If I’d only followed poor Mother’s advice and never come! Well, I’ll tell you this much, Lucy, I have some rights in the matter too, and I will not have my own grandson poisoned against me!”
“Well, I have some rights, too!” flared Lucy. “I will not have my child badgered to death by anybody!”
“Badgered! Well, I never! The child doesn’t belong to you alone, Lucy. He has a father, too, and we’ll see what John has to say about it!”
“It makes no difference what he says,” returned Lucy hotly. “You shall not ruin my boy, and neither shall his father!” Her eyes shone and her breast heaved.
“Why, Lucy! What are you getting into such a rage about?” Nannie temporized suddenly. “Anyone would think I was asking permission to murder him instead of—”
“That’s exactly what you are doing!” cried Lucy bitterly. “You would like to murder his soul. You want to interfere with every thought and impulse the child has!”
“Why, Lucy—” Nannie began again indignantly.
“Don’t ‘Lucy’ me!” interrupted her daughter vehemently, rising from her chair. “I tell you I won’t have my child tortured by you or anyone else. If it’s to be that or nothing we had better decide to part right now. So far as my own life goes, I say nothing, but my child—” She halted for breath, trembling with emotion.
“Lucy!” Nannie almost shrieked, rising also.
Lucy stared at her mother steadfastly for a moment, and did not speak. Nannie broke into hysterical sobbing. Lucy continued to regard her unmoved.
“Oh, Lucy, do you want to break my heart?” Nannie wailed.
“No,” said Lucy at last, the peculiar hard expression on her face relaxing slightly.
“Things used to be so different,” moaned Mrs. Merwent between sobs. “We were so congenial. And now that poor Mother’s dead, when I’m all alone and need affection so badly, and have forgiven all the past, to think that you could say such things to me!” And she wept afresh.
Lucy gazed at her with a look which mingled pity with contempt.
“Oh, Lucy, do you hate me?” Nannie’s voice was beseeching.
“No,” Lucy repeated impassively, hesitating a moment before she answered.
“Then, love me, Lucy! Don’t look at me that way!” Nannie threw her arms around her daughter’s neck.
For a moment Lucy submitted to the caress without responding. Then she put her arms around her mother.
“I can’t bear to have anything between us. We have always been so close together,” said Nannie, sniffing gently.
Lucy glanced across her mother’s shoulder and saw Grace standing in the doorway.
“You can clear the table,” Lucy ordered the girl sharply, at the same time loosening herself from Nannie’s embrace.
“Yes, ma’am,” agreed Grace cheerfully.
Nannie went upstairs to her room. She was followed, almost at once, by Grace.
“Poor Mrs. Merwent,” the girl began, coming into Nannie’s room without knocking. “You look all pale and wore out.”
Nannie observed her rouged cheeks in the mirror, peering over the girl’s head surreptitiously.
“Am I pale, Grace?” she inquired nervously.
“No. Not exactly pale,” amended the girl, “but your eyes look tired and you are worried.”
“Do I show wrinkles?” insisted Nannie.
“Not at all,” said Grace hastily, “but it breaks my heart to see you look so sad.”
“It’s nothing, Grace. We all have our troubles. But you are a good, kindhearted girl. Thank you.”
“Is there anything you want?” offered Grace solicitously.
“No. Not now. You can help Mrs. Winter. If I need you, I’ll call.”
“All right, Mrs. Merwent. I’ll run up again after a while.” And Grace descended the stairs, humming a song under her breath.
Lucy was in the kitchen beating eggs.
“Did you move some money that was on the writing table in the living room, Grace?” she asked as the girl entered.
“Why, no ma’am. Of course not!” denied Grace vigorously.
“I can’t find it,” said Lucy.
“Well, I didn’t touch it,” reasserted the girl with some indignation. “I don’t do such things, Mrs. Winter.”
“I didn’t say you took it, Grace,” responded Lucy patiently. “I thought you might have moved it, that’s all. I’ve looked every place for it.”
“No, I didn’t touch it,” Grace repeated.
Lucy went upstairs.
“Mamma, did you put away some money that was on the desk in the dining room?” she inquired.
“Why, no, Lucy, I never touch anything,” Nannie stated.
“Well, it’s very funny. I laid it down and came up here, and when I went back it was gone.”
“Maybe you locked it up, Mrs. Winter, and then forgot it.” Grace’s voice startled them both.
Lucy turned toward the girl who was standing in the hall just outside the door.
“What do you mean by following me about, Grace?” she reproved with vexation.
“I only came up to see how Mrs. Merwent was.” Grace had an injured air.
“Why, are you sick?” Lucy faced her mother quickly.
“No‑o. Just a slight headache, that’s all,” murmured Nannie with some confusion.
“You didn’t tell me anything about it,” said Lucy.
“Why, it’s nothing.”
“You better start your work, Grace, if you expect to have dinner on time.” Lucy spoke to the girl again.
Grace went off sulkily.
“I don’t like that girl,” Lucy complained when Grace had gone.
“Why, I don’t see anything the matter with her. She is extremely thoughtful and respectful.”
“Well, she doesn’t do her work, for one thing, and eavesdrops for another, and I am going to have the matter of this money cleared up.”
“I don’t think you ought to accuse her of stealing without any proof, Lucy. It is so easy to be unjust. I know what it is to be misunderstood myself.”
“Injustice is the last thing I have in mind,” declared Lucy as she was leaving the room, “but I can’t let a thing like this pass without doing something.”
In about an hour Grace tapped at Nannie’s door.
“Come in,” Nannie called.
The girl entered noiselessly, as usual. She carried a tray on which were a teapot, cup and saucer, and a plate of buttered toast.
“I’ve fixed you a little tea and toast, Mrs. Merwent,” she announced. “Maybe if you eat a little it will make you feel better.”
“Wait a minute, till I put these things away.” Nannie glanced up from the open bureau drawer before which she was kneeling. Then, seeing the tray, she rose to her feet.
“Thank you, Grace, but I don’t feel like eating,” she protested mournfully.
“Oh, try just a teeny bit. Here, I’ll pour the tea out for you. Eat just this little bit of toast. See how brown and crisp it is. You ought to try to eat, Mrs. Merwent. I noticed you ate hardly any lunch at all.”
“Well, all right, Grace, seeing that you have been thoughtful enough to fix it.” And Nannie began to eat with good appetite. “I didn’t think I could touch a bite, but you’ve fixed everything so nicely. I don’t usually eat much,” she declared defensively after a few moments. She smiled wanly at Grace, munching the toast as she spoke.
“That’s right,” said the girl approvingly. “You ought to eat more.”
There was a pause.
“Did Mrs. Winter find the money she misplaced?” Grace questioned casually. “Here, let me pour you another cup of tea,” she added.
“I don’t think so, Grace. But it will turn up some place or other,” replied Nannie, holding out her cup for the girl to fill.
“Well, if it don’t, I never touched it.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, Grace.”
“We’re going to have cold roast and hot potatoes for dinner, Mrs. Merwent. How do you like potatoes best? Shall I fix them au gratin?” asked Grace, mispronouncing the French very badly.
“I like scalloped potatoes best,” specified Nannie.
“All right. I’ll fix ’em that way. And the salad, shall I fix mayonnaise or French dressing?”
“Mayonnaise, if it’s not too much work.”
“Oh, I don’t mind the work.” Grace laughed. “I want to have things as you like ’em.” She picked up the tray. “If you want me, just call me,” she reminded Nannie, and departed as before, humming the same song.
Lucy came into the kitchen a little later.
“You can get the potatoes ready to bake, Grace,” she directed, “and make the French dressing for the salad while they are baking.”
“I was goin’ to scallop the potatoes,” objected Grace. “Mrs. Merwent said she liked ’em that way, and she wanted mayonnaise for the salad.”
“Well, I don’t care, if you have time to do it. Mr. Winter likes to have his dinner promptly.”
“I’ll get it in time, all right, all right. You just leave me alone,” stipulated Grace.
It was several days before Lucy made an issue of Grace.
About ten o’clock one morning, missing the girl from the kitchen, she tapped at the door of the servant’s room. Receiving no response to her knock, and hearing the sound of snoring, she looked in. Finding Grace asleep, she awakened her.
“Haven’t you anything to do, Grace? Go and start luncheon at once.”
The girl descended the stairs, Lucy following her.
“You can hash and brown the potatoes that were left. They’re in the refrigerator.”
“There ain’t no potatoes left,” objected Grace sulkily.
“Why, where are they? I told you to save them for luncheon.”
“I throwed ’em away.”
“What did you mean by throwing them away after I told you to put them in the refrigerator?”
“I don’t like warmed over things,” Grace informed her insolently.
“You will not be needed after tomorrow, Grace,” pronounced Lucy angrily. “Your week is up then. Of course I will pay you an extra week’s wages.”
“Why, what have I done, Mrs. Winter?” was the answer in a tone of injured innocence.
“We need not discuss it. It is sufficient that I shall not require your services after tomorrow.”
“If you are hinting that I took that money, Mrs. Winter, I will just let you know that there is protection for a girl who is accused falsely of stealing.”
“I’m not accusing you,” returned Lucy. “The money disappeared. So did a dollar bill I purposely placed on the table. I have no proof that you took either sum, but I am not compelled to keep anyone in my employ unless I wish, so we will consider the matter settled.”
Grace sought Nannie’s room without delay.
Not long after, Nannie presented herself in the living room where Lucy was engaged in straightening some papers on the desk. The girl had remained upstairs.
“What are you discharging Grace for, Lucy?” Nannie began excitedly.
“I think I have good reasons, Mamma, or I shouldn’t do it.”
“I’m afraid you are prejudiced against her, Lucy. She complains to me that you are not treating her fairly.”
“I must be the judge of what I am doing, Mamma.”
“Well, I should be careful about reflecting on her character and honesty. You don’t know that she took that money, and I am convinced that she didn’t. A girl who is considerate and thoughtful of others is not likely to be a thief.”
“I have accused her of nothing, Mamma, but I will not have her around.”
“Now, Lucy, of course I know that you think I should never say a word in this house, but I think it’s my duty to protest in this matter.” Mrs. Merwent assumed an expression of great dignity.
“I’m a better judge than you are of what kind of a servant I want,” retorted Lucy, her cheeks flushing.
“In other words, I should attend to my own business.”
“Well, Mamma, you certainly ought to know that I am the one to take the responsibility in such matters.”
“Without considering the wishes or comfort of anyone else in the family!” snapped Nannie. “Of course I might have known that I needn’t expect to be considered. I never count for anything.”
“I think the lack of consideration is on your part, Mamma. You don’t care if the girl is lazy and inefficient and dishonest. Just so long as she flatters you and pays you special attention, you stand up for her. The welfare of the family is nothing.”
“Of course I might have expected to be insulted. It’s not true, I tell you! I wasn’t thinking of myself at all. I know you are jealous and resentful whenever anybody pays me the least attention, but my only thought was simple justice to the girl. I don’t propose to see anybody misused. We’ll see what John says to your putting a girl in the street without provocation.”
“You can tell John, or anybody else you want to, but I shall do as I please in my own house,” flared Lucy, and left the room.
When John came home that evening he found Nannie alone in the living room. She was in tears.
“Why what’s the matter, Nannie?” he cried in consternation.
“Oh, John!” She wept. “I don’t know what has come over Lucy! I’ve tried so hard to overlook everything, and came here with a fixed determination to forget the past and all I’ve suffered on account of her, and now she treats me like this! She knows that I’m at her mercy, too. I was brought up to expect such a different fate!”
“Why, what has she done?” he asked anxiously.
“She wants to dismiss Grace just because the girl likes me, and Lucy can’t bear to have anybody prefer me to her.”
Lucy entered the living room.
“What’s this about your wanting to discharge the girl, Lucy?” he questioned. “Have you got any reason for it?”
“I certainly shouldn’t want to unless I had,” replied Lucy coldly.
“Well, Lucy, you know you acknowledged yourself that you had no proof that she took the money,” put in Nannie gently, wiping her eyes.
“Yes. I didn’t think she took it when you told me, Lucy,” supplemented John.
“It was twice—” began Lucy.
“You probably spent it and forgot all about it,” interrupted John.
“No, I didn’t.” Lucy’s tone was rebellious. “I always put down every cent I spend, and besides, I don’t like the girl anyway.”
“You’ve never liked her, Lucy,” put in Nannie again.
“Now, Lucy, you shouldn’t let personal prejudices make you unjust.” John’s manner was lofty. “If Grace has faults, speak to her about them, but don’t allow a whim to destroy the girl’s livelihood. If Nannie wants the girl to stay, surely it is a little thing to make enough effort to readjust things, instead of putting her in the street.”
“John,” Lucy began once more in a suppressed voice, “my comfort and convenience and welfare used to be enough to justify any change I saw fit to make in our home.”
“Of course I have changed you into an inconsiderate husband, John,” jeered Nannie.
“Oh, nonsense, Lucy,” answered John irritably. “You are always magnifying every suggestion into some terrible injury nowadays. You should get more sense of humor. There’s no sense or reason for discharging Grace and you shouldn’t act babyish about it.”
Lucy controlled herself with an effort. Tears stood in her eyes.
“There is a reason, more than one reason, John.”
“What?”
“Well, she is wasteful, for one thing. She uses a third more groceries than I did.”
“Rot! That’s just an excuse. You don’t like the girl because Nannie does. She’s going to stay. I’m not going to hunt up a new girl every week!”
Lucy gave him a look that startled him with its hostility, and left the room without a word. When she did not appear for dinner Mrs. Merwent went upstairs to call her, but returned alone.
“She says she doesn’t want any dinner,” Nannie informed John. “Shall we begin without her?”
“Why, of course. If she wants to pout, let her.”
“You poor boy!” continued Nannie, straightening his cravat. “It isn’t pleasant for you to come home and find things like this, when you work so hard all day. But you must be patient with Lucy, John. I used to have to be when she was a girl.”
Without waiting for him to reply Nannie went into the kitchen.
“You can put the dinner on, Grace,” she instructed.
“Do I have to go, Mrs. Merwent?” asked Grace in a low tone.
“No, Grace, but you must be careful not to offend Mrs. Winter again.”
“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Merwent.”
“Hurry up, Grace, and serve the soup. Mr. Winter is waiting for his dinner.”
“All right, Mrs. Merwent. Go in and sit down. It won’t be a minute.”
Lucy had begun to grow pale and silent, speaking only when addressed, or when necessary orders were to be given the servant. Late one afternoon she entered the kitchen to inspect preparations for dinner.
“You can put this cauliflower in the ice chest when it is done,” she directed, “and we’ll have it for salad with French dressing.”
“Mrs. Merwent told me to serve it hot with cream dressing,” answered Grace.
“I don’t want to use up the milk for cream dressing,” Lucy informed her sharply. “There won’t be enough for Dimmie.”
“I can go out and get some more,” returned Grace stubbornly.
“It isn’t necessary. We’re getting a quart of milk a day extra already. You fix the cauliflower as I said.”
“Well, what about what Mrs. Merwent says?” inquired Grace impudently.
“I am mistress here. You do as I say, or leave the house,” ordered Lucy angrily.
“I dunno as I have to do either,” sneered Grace.
Lucy went into the dining room and returned with some money.
“Here are your wages. Get out of the house,” she commanded, a curious expression in her eyes that impressed Grace against her will.
“Mrs. Winter—” the girl began to parley.
“Get your things together and go,” repeated Lucy, moving slowly toward her.
Grace backed out of the kitchen, and, turning, ascended the stairs, sobbing. She was followed by Lucy. In a few minutes the two came through the upstairs hall. Grace had her hat and coat on and carried her suit case in her hand. Nannie, hearing the girl’s sobs, opened her door and looked out.
“Why, Grace, what in the world is the matter?” she queried.
“Oh, Mrs. Merwent, Mrs. Winter is sending me away,” cried the girl.
“Now, Lucy,” Nannie began, taking hold of her daughter’s arm.
Lucy shook off Nannie’s hand and faced her threateningly.
“Will you keep out of this, Mother?” she asked with a suppressed vehemence that staggered Nannie.
“Come now. Go at once,” Lucy told Grace, who, cowed as she was, allowed herself, without further protest, to be bundled down the stairs and through the front door.
Lucy then went to the kitchen to complete the preparations for dinner. Mrs. Merwent came after her, sad and injured.
“Mother!” Nannie repeated, echoing Lucy’s intonation. “You’ll be calling me Mrs. Merwent next! Lucy, you are certainly the hardest hearted—”
“Please! Don’t talk to me,” interrupted Lucy.
“But, Lucy—”
“Don’t talk to me!” ordered Lucy, her voice shrill.
Nannie retreated to her bedroom.
Soon after John entered the house whistling. Meeting no one in the hall and living room, he peered into the kitchen.
“Where’s Nannie?” he inquired of Lucy.
“I don’t know,” she replied shortly.
“What are you doing in the kitchen? Where’s your girl?” he persisted.
“I don’t know,” reiterated Lucy in the same tone.
Nannie, who had heard John’s voice, hurried down the stairs and came into the kitchen.
“Let me help you put the dinner on, Lucy,” she offered, after smiling at John.
“Please leave me alone,” answered Lucy in the same hostile enigmatic manner.
“Whew!” ejaculated John. “Let me get out of this! Come on, Nannie!” And the two went into the living room.
When Lucy had placed the dinner on the table, she returned to her bedroom. The meal had not been announced and it was not until Dimmie, entering the living room, wanted to know why Papa and Nannie did not come to dinner, that Nannie followed the child back to the dining room and discovered the cooling dishes.
“Why, John, dinner is on the table and getting cold!” she called. “There is cream pea soup, too. It’s so good when it’s hot and now it’s all spoiled,” she added disappointedly.
“Well, let’s eat,” said John, appearing in the doorway.
“I wonder whether Lucy is coming or whether she is not,” he remarked when they were seated.
“I’ll go and see,” offered Mrs. Merwent.
“No. If she wants to sulk, let her sulk,” John declared. “I’m getting tired of this kind of thing.”
Nannie rose and went to the kitchen.
“Where’s Grace?” John asked when Mrs. Merwent reseated herself.
“She’s gone.” Nannie’s air was mysterious.
“Gone where?”
“Well, John, I don’t want to say anything—”
“Did Lucy send her away?”
“Yes, John.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know, John. I was in my room and heard the girl crying, and when I came out Lucy was in such a temper I was afraid to inquire or say anything.”
John struck the table with his fist.
“I’m not going to stand Lucy’s tantrums much longer!” he cried. His lips were drawn back and showed the edges of his teeth.
Dimmie, who had with difficulty climbed from his mother’s chair into his own highchair, sat there unnoticed, staring at his father, his eyes very wide open and his lips parted.
“Now, John,” Nannie began soothingly. “I know you have been like a saint, but you mustn’t get discouraged. I’m going to talk to Lucy and maybe things will be better.”
“You’re the saint, Nannie.”
“Well, now promise me that for my sake you will go on being just as forbearing as you have been so far? I couldn’t bear to have anything come between you and Lucy.”
“I don’t enjoy quarreling, Nannie, but I’m sick of coming home every night and finding a situation like this all fixed up for me.”
“I know it, poor fellow, but you just must promise me that you will be patient till I can bring Lucy to see what she is doing.” Then, after a moment, she continued. “I got another letter from Professor Walsh today. He is as anxious to have me back as ever, but I can’t bear to think of leaving you and Lucy, especially when you need me so, John, dear.”
There was a short silence.
“I should hope not,” John said, at last, stirring his soup viciously. “You’re a good sort, Nannie,” he finished, not looking at her as he spoke.
“Thank you, dear boy,” cooed Mrs. Merwent. “After dinner I’m going to sing all your favorite songs. Let me help you to a little more meat, won’t you?”
“Thanks, I will.” John passed his plate.
“But you mustn’t call me good,” she objected archly, as she put the meat on the plate. “You’re the one who’s good.”
“You’re an angel,” declared John.
“Ain’t I goin’ to have any dinner?” asked Dimmie.