One by one the family left the Homestead--Lucy, when she married Dr.
William Maynard and went away to live near the university with which Will was connected, and Oliver and Malcolm when they graduated from college and went into business. I alone was left living with Alec and Edith. I was so busy coming-out and making a social success of myself that it never occurred to me but that I was as important a member in that household as Edith herself. I wasn"t far from wrong either. When I was a debutante and admired by Breckenridge Sewall, I was petted and pampered and kept in sight. When I became a back-season number of some four or five years" staleness, any old north room would do for me!
I used to dread Hilton in the winter, with nothing more exciting going on than a few horrible thimble parties with girls who were beginning to discuss how to keep thin, the importance of custom-made corsets, and various other topics of advancing years. I soon acquired the habit of interrupting these long seasons. I was frequently absent two months at a time, visiting boarding-school friends, running out to California, up to Alaska, or down to Mexico with some girl friend or other, with her mother or aunt for a chaperon. Traveling is pleasant enough, but everybody likes to feel a tie pulling gently at his heartstrings when he steps up to a hotel register to write down the name of that little haven that means home. It is like one of those toy return-b.a.l.l.s. If the ball is attached by an elastic string to some little girl"s middle finger how joyfully it springs forth from her hand, how eagerly returns again! When suddenly on one of its trips the elastic snaps, the ball becomes lifeless and rolls listlessly away in the gutter. When my home ties broke, I, too, abandoned myself.
I had been on a visiting-trip made up of two-week stands in various cities between Ma.s.sachusetts and the Great Lakes, whither I had set out to visit my oldest brother, Tom, and his wife, Elise, who live on the edge of one of the Lakes in Wisconsin. I had been gone about six weeks and had planned not to return to Hilton until the arrival of Hilton"s real society in May.
When I reached Henrietta Morgan"s, just outside New York, on the return trip, I fully expected to remain with her for two weeks and stop off another week with the Harts in New Haven. But after about three days at Henrietta"s, I suddenly decided I couldn"t stand it any longer. My clothes all needed pressing--they had a peculiar trunky odor--even the tissue paper which I used in such abundance in my old-fashioned tray trunk had lost its life and crispness; I had gotten down to my last clean pair of long white gloves; everything I owned needed some sort of attention--I simply must go home!
I woke up possessed with the idea, and after putting on my last really respectable waist and inquiring of myself in the mirror how in the world I expected to visit Henrietta Morgan with such a dreary trunkful of travel-worn articles, anyhow, I went down to the breakfast table with my mind made up.
Henrietta left me after breakfast for a hurried trip to town. I didn"t go with her. I had waked up with a kind of cottony feeling in my throat, and as hot coffee and toast didn"t seem to help it, I made an examination with a hand-mirror after breakfast. I discovered three white spots! I wasn"t alarmed. They never mean anything serious with me, and they offered an excellent excuse for my sudden departure. It didn"t come to my mind that the white spots might have been the cause of my sudden longing for my own little pink room. I simply knew I wanted to go home; and wake up in the morning cross and disagreeable; and grumble about the bacon and coffee at the breakfast table if I wanted to.
While Henrietta and her mother were out in the morning, I clinched my decision by engaging a section on the night train and telegraphing Edith. Although I was convinced that my departure wouldn"t seriously upset any of the small informal affairs so far planned for my entertainment, I was acquainted with Mrs. Morgan"s tenacious form of hospitality. By the time she returned my packing was finished, and I was lying down underneath a down comforter on the couch. I told Mrs. Morgan about the white spots and my decision to return home.
She would scarcely hear me through. She announced emphatically that she wouldn"t think of allowing me to travel if I was ill. I was to undress immediately, crawl in between the sheets, and she would call a doctor. I wasn"t rude to Mrs. Morgan, simply firm--that was all--quite as persistent in my resolve as she in hers.
When finally she became convinced that nothing under heaven could dissuade me, she flushed slightly and said icily, "Oh, very well, very well. If that is the way you feel about it, very well, my dear," and sailed out of the room, hurt. Even Henrietta, though very solicitous, shared her mother"s indignation, and I longed for the comfort and relief of the Pullman, the friendly porters, and my own understanding people at the other end.
So, you see, when in the middle of the afternoon I was summoned to the telephone to receive a telegram from Hilton, I wasn"t prepared for the slap in the face that Edith"s message was to me.
"Sorry," it was repeated. "Can"t conveniently have you until next week.
House packed with company. Better stay with the Morgans." Signed, "Edith."
CHAPTER V
THE UNIMPORTANT FIFTH WHEEL
Better stay with the Morgans! Who was I to be bandied about in such fashion? Couldn"t have me! I wasn"t a seamstress who went out by the day. House packed with company! Well--what of that? Hadn"t I more right there? Wasn"t I Alec"s own sister? Wasn"t I born under the very roof to which I was now asked not to come? Weren"t all my things there--my bed, my bureau, my little old white enameled desk I used when I was a child?
Where was I to go, I"d like to ask? Couldn"t have me! Very well, then, I wouldn"t go!
I called up my brother Malcolm"s office in New York. Perhaps he would be kind enough to engage a room in a hospital somewhere, or at least find a bed in a public ward. "Sorry, Miss Vars," came the answer finally to me over the long distance wire, "but Mr. Vars has gone up to Hilton, Ma.s.sachusetts, for the week-end. Not returning until Monday."
I sat dumbly gazing into the receiver. Where could I go? Lucy, I was sure, would squeeze me in somewhere if I applied to her--she always can--but a letter received from Lucy two days before had contained a glowing description of some celebrated doctor of science and his wife, who were to be her guests during this very week. She has but one guest room. I couldn"t turn around and go back to Wisconsin. I couldn"t go to Oliver, now married to Madge. They live in a tiny apartment outside Boston. There is nothing for me to sleep on except a lumpy couch in the living-room. Besides there is a baby, and to carry germs into any household with a baby in it is nothing less than criminal.
Never before had I felt so ignominious as when, half an hour later, I meekly pa.s.sed my telegram to Mrs. Morgan and asked if it would be terribly inconvenient if I did stay after all.
"Not at all. Of course not," she replied coldly. "I shall not turn you out into the street, my dear. But you stated your wish to go so decidedly that I have telephoned Henrietta"s friends in Orange to come over to take your place. We had not told you that tickets for the theater tonight and matinee tomorrow had already been bought. The friends are coming this evening. So I shall be obliged to ask you to move your things into the sewing-room."
I moved them. A mean little room it was on the north side of the house. Piles of clothes to be mended, laundry to be put away, a mop and a carpet sweeper greeted me as I went in. The floor was untidy with sc.r.a.ps of cloth pushed into a corner behind the sewing machine.
The mantel was decorated with spools of thread, cards of hooks and eyes, and a pin-cushion with threaded needles stuck in it. The bed was uncomfortable. I crawled into it, and lay very still. My heart was filled with bitterness. My eyes rested on the skeleton of a dressmaker"s form. A man"s shirt ripped up the back hung over a chair. I staid for three days in that room! Mrs. Morgan"s family physician called the first night, and announced to Mrs. Morgan that probably I was coming down with a slight attack of tonsilitis. I thought at least it was diphtheria or double pneumonia. There were pains in my back. When I tried to look at the dressmaker"s skeleton it jiggled uncomfortably before my eyes.
I didn"t see the new guests once. Even Henrietta was allowed to speak to me only from across the hall.
"Tonsilitis _is_ catching, you know, my dear," Mrs. Morgan sweetly purred from heights above me, "and I"d never forgive myself if the other two girls caught anything here. I"ve forbidden Henrietta to see you. She"s so susceptible to germs." I felt I was an unholy creature, teeming with microbes.
The room was warm; they fed me; they cared for me; but I begged the doctor for an early deliverance on Monday morning. I longed for home. I cried for it a little. Edith couldn"t have known that I was ill; she would have opened her arms wide if she had guessed--of course she would.
I ought to have gone in the beginning. I poured out my story into that old doctor"s understanding ears, and he opened the way for me finally.
He let me escape. Very weak and wobbly I took an early train on Monday morning for Hilton. At the same time I sent the following telegram to my sister-in-law: "Arrive Hilton 6:15 tonight. Have been ill. Still some fever, but doctor finally consents to let me come."
Six fearful hours later I found myself, weak-kneed and trembling, on the old home station platform. I was on the verge of tears. I looked up and down for Edith"s anxious face, or for Alec"s--they would be disturbed when they heard I had a fever, they might be alarmed--but I couldn"t find them. The motor was not at the curb either. I stepped into a telephone-booth and called the house. Edith answered herself. I recognized her quick staccato "h.e.l.lo."
I replied, "h.e.l.lo, that you, Edith?"
"Yes. Who is this?" she called.
"Ruth," I answered feebly.
"Ruth! Where in the world are you?" she answered.
"Oh, I"m all right. I"m down here at the station. Just arrived. I"m perfectly all right," I a.s.sured her.
"Well, well," she exclaimed. "That"s fine. Awfully glad you"re back! I do wish I could send the limousine down for you, Ruth. But I just can"t.
We"re going out to dinner--to the Mortimers, and we"ve just _got_ to have it. I"m awfully sorry, but do you mind taking the car, or a carriage? I"m right in the midst of dressing. I"ve got to hurry like mad. It"s almost half-past six now. Jump into a taxi, and we can have a nice little chat before I have to go. Got lots to tell you. It"s fine you"re back. Good-by. Don"t mind if I hurry now, do you?"
I arrived at the house ten minutes later in a hired taxicab. I rang the bell, and after a long wait a maid I had never seen before let me in.
Edith resplendent in a brand new bright green satin gown was just coming down the stairs. She had on all her diamonds.
"h.e.l.lo, Toots," she said. "Did you get homesick, dearie? Welcome. Wish I could kiss you, Honey, but I can"t. I"ve just finished my lips. Why didn"t you telegraph, Rascal? It"s a shame not to have you met."
"I did," I began.
"Oh, well, our telephone has been out of order all day. It makes me tired the way they persist in telephoning telegrams. We do get the worst service! I had no idea you were coming. Why, I sent off a perfect bunch of mail to you this very morning. You weren"t peeved, were you, Toots, about my telegram, I mean? I was right in the midst of the most important house-party I"ve ever had. As it was I had too many girls, and at the last minute had to telegraph Malcolm to come and help me out. And he did, the lamb! The house-party was a screaming success. I"m going to have a regular series of them all summer. How do you like my gown? Eighty-five, my dear, marked down from a hundred and fifty."
"Stunning," I replied, mingled emotions in my heart.
"There!" exclaimed Edith abruptly. "There"s your telegram now. Did you ever? Getting here at this hour!"
A telegraph boy was coming up the steps. I was fortunately near the door, and I opened it before he rang, received my needless message myself, and tore open the envelope.
"You"re right," I said. "It is my telegram. It just said I was coming.
That"s all. It didn"t matter much. Guess I"ll go up to my room now, if you don"t mind."
"Do, dear. Do," said Edith, "and I"ll come along too. I want to show you something, anyhow. I"ve picked up the stunningest high-boy you ever saw in your life. A real old one, worth two hundred and fifty, but I got it for a hundred. I"ve put it right outside your room, and very carefully--oh, _most_ carefully--with my own hands, Honey, I just laid your things in it. I simply couldn"t have the bureau drawers in that room filled up, you know, with all the house-parties I"m having, and you not here half the time. I knew _you_ wouldn"t mind, and the high-boy is so stunning!" We had gone upstairs and were approaching it now. "I put all your underclothes in those long shallow drawers; and your ribbons and gloves and things in these deep, low ones. And then up here in the top I"ve laid carefully all the truck you had stowed away in that little old white enameled desk of yours. The desk I put up in the store-room. It wasn"t decent for guests. I"ve bought a new one to take its place. I do hope you"ll like it. It"s a spinet desk, and stunning. Oh, dear--there it is now ten minutes of seven, and I"ve simply got to go. I promised to pick up Alec at the Club on the way. I don"t believe I"ve told you I"ve had your room redecorated. I wish I could wait and see if you"re pleased. But I can"t--simply can"t! You understand, don"t you, dear? But make yourself comfy."
She kissed me then very lightly on the cheek, and turned and tripped away downstairs. When I caught the purr of the vanishing limousine as it sped away down the winding drive, I opened the door of my room. It was very pretty, very elegant, as perfectly appointed as any hotel room I had ever gazed upon, but mine no more. This one little sacred precinct had been entered in my absence and robbed of every vestige of me. Instead of my single four-poster were two mahogany sleigh beds, spread with expensively embroidered linen. Instead of my magazine cut of Robert Louis Stevenson pinned beside the east window was a signed etching. Instead of my own familiar desk welcoming me with bulging packets of old letters, waiting for some rainy morning to be read and sentimentally destroyed, appeared the spinet desk, furnished with brand new blotters, chaste pens, and a fresh book of two-cent stamps.
All but my mere flesh and bones had been conveniently stuffed into a two-hundred and fifty dollar high-boy!
I could have burst into tears if I had dared to fling myself down upon the embroidered spreads. And then suddenly from below I heard the scramble of four little feet on the hardwood floor, the eager, anxious pant of a wheezy little dog hurrying up the stairs. It was Dandy--my Boston terrier. Somehow, down behind the kitchen stove he had sensed me, and his little dog heart was bursting with welcome. Only Dandy had really missed me, sitting long, patient hours at a time at the living-room window, watching for me to come up the drive; and finally starting out on mysterious night searches of his own, as he always does when days pa.s.s and I do not return. I heard the thud of his soft body as he slipped and fell, in his haste, on the slippery hall floor.
And then a moment later he was upon me--paws and tongue and half-human little yelps and cries pouring out their eloquence.
I held the wriggling, ecstatic little body close to me, and wondered what it would be like if some human being was as glad to see me as Dandy.