"Who"s calling?" she murmured, and ran to the door, card in hand.
"I didn"t hear any one," Ruth called after her.
But Roberta disappeared. Around the turn of the hall she scanned her card.
"_Thorns to the th.o.r.n.y_," she read, and stood staring at the unexpected words written in a firm, masculine hand. That was all. Did it sting?
Yet, curiously enough, Roberta rather liked that odd message.
When she came back, Ruth, in the excitement of examining many other Christmas offerings, had rushed on, leaving the box of roses on Roberta"s bed. The recipient took out a single rose and examined its stem. Thorns! She had never seen sharper ones--and not one had been removed. But the rose itself was perfection.
CHAPTER X
OPINIONS AND THEORIES
Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray were the last to leave the city, after the house-party. They returned to their brother Robert"s home for a day, when the other guests had gone, and it was on the evening before their departure that they related their experiences while at the house of Matthew Kendrick. With most of the members of the Gray household, they were sitting before the fire in the living-room when Aunt Ruth suddenly spoke her mind.
"I don"t know when I"ve felt so sorry for the too rich as I felt in that house," said she. She was knitting a gray silk mitten, and her needles were flying.
"Why, Aunt Ruth?" inquired her nephew Louis, who sat next her, revelling in the comfort of home after a particularly hara.s.sing day at the office.
"Did they seem to lack anything in particular?"
"I should say they did," she replied. "Nothing that money can buy, of course, but about everything that it can"t."
"For instance?" he pursued, turning affectionate eyes upon his aunt"s small figure in its gray gown, as the firelight played upon it, touching her abundant silvering locks and making her eyes seem to sparkle almost as brilliantly as her swiftly moving needles.
Aunt Ruth put down her knitting for an instant, looking at her nephew.
"Why, you know," said she. "You"re sitting in the very middle of it this minute!"
Louis looked about him, smiling. He was, indeed, in the midst of an accustomed scene of both home-likeness and beauty. The living-room was of such generous proportions that even when the entire family were gathered there they could not crowd it. On a wide couch, at one side of the fireplace, sat his father and mother, talking in low tones concerning some matter of evident interest, to judge by their intent faces. Rosamond, like the girl she resembled, sat, girl fashion, on a pile of cushions close by the fire; and Stephen, her husband, not far away, by a table with a drop-light, was absorbed in a book. Uncle Rufus was examining a pile of photographs on the other side of the table. Ted sprawled on a couch at the far end of the room, deep in a boy"s magazine, a reading light at his elbow. At the opposite end of the room, where the piano stood, Roberta, music rack before her, was drawing her bow across nearly noiseless strings, while Ruth picked softly at her harp: indications of intention to burst forth into musical strains when a hush should chance to fall upon the company.
Judge Calvin Gray alone was absent from the gathering, and even as Louis"s eyes wandered about the pleasant room, his uncle"s figure appeared in the doorway. As if he were answering his sister Ruth, Judge Gray spoke his thought.
"I wonder," said he, advancing toward the fireside, "if anywhere in this wide world there is a happier family life than this!"
Louis sprang up to offer Judge Gray the chair he had been occupying--a favourite, luxuriously cushioned armchair, with a reading light beside it ready to be switched on at will, which was Uncle Calvin"s special treasure, of an evening. Louis himself took up his position on the hearth-rug, opposite Rosamond.
Aunt Ruth answered her brother energetically: "None happier, Calvin, I"ll warrant, and few half as happy. I can"t help wishing those two people Rufus and I"ve been visiting could look in here just now."
"Why make them envious?" suggested Louis, who loved to hear his Aunt Ruth"s crisp speeches.
"The question is--would they be envious?" This came from Stephen, whose absorption in his book evidently admitted of penetration from the outside.
"Why, of course they would!" declared Aunt Ruth. "You should have seen the way they had me pour the coffee and tea, all the while I was there.
That young man Richard was always getting me to pour something--said he liked to see me do it. And he was always sending a servant off and doing things for me himself. If I"d been a young girl he couldn"t have hovered round any more devotedly."
A general laugh greeted this, for Aunt Ruth"s expression of face as she told it was provocative.
"We can readily believe that, Ruth," declared Judge Gray, and his brother Robert nodded. The low-voiced talk between Mr. Robert Gray and his wife had ceased; Stephen had laid down his book; Ruth had stopped plucking at her harp strings; and only Roberta still seemed interested in anything but Aunt Ruth and her experiences and opinions.
"I mended his socks and gloves for him," announced Aunt Ruth contentedly. "You needn"t tell me they don"t miss a woman"s hand about the house, over there."
"She mended Rich Kendrick"s socks and gloves!" murmured Louis, with a laughing, incredulous glance at Rosamond, who lifted delighted eyes to him. "I can"t believe it. He must have made holes in them on purpose."
"Why, not even a spendthrift would do that!" Aunt Ruth promptly denied the possibility of such folly. "I don"t say but they are lavish with things there. Rufus and I were a good deal bothered by all their lights.
We couldn"t seem to get them all put out. And every time we put them out, anywhere, somebody"d turn them on again for us."
Uncle Rufus broke in here, narrating their experience with the various switch-b.u.t.tons in the suite of rooms, and the company laughed until they wept over his comments.
"But all that"s neither here nor there," said he, finally. "Of course we weren"t up to such elaborate arrangements, and it made us feel sort of rustic. But I can tell you they didn"t spare any pains to make us comfortable and at home--if, as Ruth says, you can make anybody feel at home in a great place like that. I feel, as she does, sorry for "em both. They"re pretty fine gentlemen, if I"m any judge, and I don"t know which I like better, the older or the younger."
"There can be no question about the older," said his brother, Robert Gray, joining in the talk with evident interest. "Mr. Matthew Kendrick made his place long ago in the business world as one of the great and just. He has taught that world many fine lessons of truth and honour, as well as of success."
Judge Gray nodded. "I"m glad to hear that you appreciate him, Robert,"
said he. "Few know better than I how deserved that is. And still fewer recognize the fine and sensitive nature behind the impression of power he has always given. He is the type of man, as sister Ruth here is quick to discern, who must be lonely in the midst of his great wealth, for the lack of just such a privilege as this we have here to-night, the close a.s.sociation with people whom we love, and with whom we sympathize in all that matters most. Matthew Kendrick was a devoted husband and father. In spite of his grandson"s presence, of late, he must sorely long for companionship."
"His grandson"s going to give him more of that than he has," declared Aunt Ruth, smiling over her knitting as if recalling a pleasant memory.
"He and I had quite a bit of talk while I was there, and he"s beginning to realize that he owes his grandfather more than he"s given him. I had a good chance to see what was in that boy"s heart, and I know there"s plenty of warmth there. And there"s real character in him, too. I"ve had enough sons of my own to know the signs, and the fact that they were poor in this world"s goods, and he is rich--too rich--doesn"t make a mite of difference in the signs!"
Mrs. Robert Gray, who had been listening with an intent expression in eyes whose beauty was not more appealing than their power of observation was keen, now spoke, and all turned to her. She was a woman whose opinion on any subject of common interest was always waited for and attended upon. Her voice was rich and low--her family did not fully know how dear to their ears was the sound of that voice.
"Young Mr. Kendrick," said she, "couldn"t wish, Ruth, for a more powerful advocate than you. To have you approve him, after seeing him under more intimate circ.u.mstances than we are likely to do, must commend him to our good will. To tell the frank truth, I have been rather afraid to admit him to my good graces, lest there be really no great force of character, or even promise of it, behind that handsome face and winning manner. But if you see the signs--as you say--we must look more hopefully upon him."
"She"s not the only one who sees signs," a.s.serted Judge Gray. "He"s coming on--he"s coming on well, in his work with me. He"s learning really to work. I admit he didn"t know how when he came to me. Something has waked him up. I"m inclined to think," he went on, with a mischievous glance toward the end of the room where sat the noiseless musicians, "it might have been my niece Roberta"s shining example of industry when she spent a day with us in my library, typing work for me back in October.
Never was such a sight to serve as an inspiration for a laggardly young man!"
There was a general laugh, and all eyes were turned toward that end of the room devoted to the users of the musical instruments. In response came a deep, resonant note from Roberta"s "cello, over which the silent bow had been for some time suspended. There followed a minor scale, descending well into the depths and vibrating dismally as it went.
Louis, a mocking light in his eye, strolled down the room to his sisters.
"That"s the way you feel about it, eh?" he queried, regarding Roberta with brotherly interest. "Consigning the poor, innocent chap to the bottom of the ladder, when he"s doing his best to climb up to the sunshine of your smile. Have you no respect for the opinion of your betters?"
"Get out your fiddle and play the Grieg _Danse Caprice_, with us," was her reply, and Louis obeyed, though not without a word or two more in her ear which made her lift her bow threateningly. Presently the trio were off, playing with a spirit and dash which drew all ears, and at the close of the _Danse_ hearty applause called for more. After this diversion, naturally enough, new subjects came up for discussion.
Returning to the living-room in search of a dropped letter, after the family had dispersed for the night, Roberta found her mother lingering there alone. She had drawn a low chair close to the fire, and, having extinguished all other lights, was sitting quietly looking into the still glowing embers. Roberta, forgetting her quest, came close, and flinging a cushion at her mother"s knee dropped down there. This was a frequent happening, and the most intimate hours the two spent together were after this fashion.
There was no speech for a little, though Mrs. Gray"s hand wandered caressingly about her daughter"s neck in a way Roberta dearly loved, drawing the loosened dark locks away from the small ears, or twisting a curly strand about her fingers. Suddenly the girl burst out:
"Mother, what are you to do when you find all your theories upset?"
"_All_ upset?" repeated Mrs. Gray, in her rich and quiet voice. "That would be a calamity indeed. Surely there must be one or two of yours remaining stable?"
"It seems not, just now. One disproved overturns another. They all hinge on one another--at least mine do."
"Perhaps not as closely as you think. What is it, dear? Can you tell me anything about it?"
"Not much, I"m afraid. Oh, it"s nothing very real, I suppose--just a sort of vague discomfort at feeling that certain ideals I thought were as fixed as the stars in the heavens seem to be wobbling as if they might shoot downward any minute, and--and leave only a trail of light behind!"