An Unwilling Guest (3 page)

But she could not know of the shock which the bare white shoulders and beautifully molded arms gave to the whole family.
Hillcroft
was not a place which
decollett
dressing was considered "just quite the thing" among the older, well-established families. It was felt to be a little "fast" by the best people, and it happened that Allison had never in the whole of her quiet, sheltered life sat down to a table or even moved about familiarly in the sa
me room with a woman who consid
ered it quite respectable to use so little material in the waist of her dress. It shocked her indescribably. She could scarcely understand herself why it should have such an effect upon her. She was a girl who had read widely, and in the world of literature she had moved much in the society of women who dressed in this way, and so far as one can be, through books, she was used to society's ways. But she had moved through that airy world of the mind without even noticing this feature of the fashions, except to disapprove them, because her parents did. Now she looked for the first time upon a beautiful woman standing unblushing before her father in a costume that
his own daughter would have thought immodest to wear in his presence. After the first startled look Allison turned away her face. It was a beautiful vision, but one that she felt ought not to be looked upon. It seemed that the girl before her must be shielded in some way and the only way she could do it was by averting her gaze.

If Allison had been a frequenter of the theatre she would not have felt in this way; but
Hillcroft
was not
a place where many artists pene
trated, and if it had been, Mr. Grey disapproved of the theatre and so did his wife.

The feeling which Allison had a
bout the white neck and arms ex
tended in a less degree to her mother and father. There was a tinge of embarrassment in their greeting as they sat down to the evening meal,
which they could hardly have expl
ained. It was not so much embar
rassment for themselves as for their guest, for they felt that she must inevitably discover how out of place she was in such surroundings, and then what could she feel but confusion? They forgot that her home surroundings had not been theirs.

I
t was well for the Grey family that their custom was to drop their eyes and bow their heads upon sitting down to a meal, while the head of the house asked God's blessing.

On this occasion it was a great relief to all concerned to close their eyes and quiet their hearts before God for a brief instant. They were people who lived close enough to their heavenly Father to gather strength from even so brief a heart-lift as was this.

As for the guest, it was actually the first time since her little girlhood that she had sat at a table and heard God's blessing asked. There could scarcely have been brought together two girls whose lives had been farther apart than those of Allison Grey and Evelyn Rutherford. Miss Rutherford slightly inclined her head as good breeding would dictate, but she kept her eyes wide open and looked about on the group, half amused and a trifle annoyed. She did
not care to have such an inter
ruption to her little triumph of entrance. Besides, she now thought she knew why these people were so awfully
placid and unusual in their behavior,-
they were religious. She had never known any very religious people, but she felt sure they were disagreeable and she decided again to get away from them as soon as possible. Meantime she was hungry and she could not help seeing that a tempting meal was set before her, even though, in the housekeeper's notion, it was almost spoiled.

When the blessing was concluded she noticed, as she waited for the plate containing a piece of juicy steak t
o be handed her, that the table
cloth was fine and exquisitely ironed, and that the spoons and forks, though thin and old-fashioned, were solid silver. She happened to be
interested in old silver just then, on account of a fad of a city friend, so she was able to recognize it. This fact made the people rise somewhat in her estimation, and she set herself to be very charming to the head of the house. I
t had never seemed to her worth
while to exercise her charms upon women.

She really could talk very well. Allison had to admit that as she sat quietly serving the delicious peaches and cream, and passing honey, delicate biscuits, and amber coffee with the lightest of sponge cake.

The guest did thorough justice to the evening meal, and talked so well about her journey to Mr. Grey that he quite forgot his hurry and suddenly looked at his watch to find that he was already five minutes late to a very important committee meeting.

Allison did not fail to note all these things, nor to admit the beauty and charm
of their visitor as she from tim
e to time cast furtive glances, getting used to the dazzling display of white arms. Her face grew grave as the meal drew to a close, and he
r mother watching, partly under
stood.

They had just risen from the table when Mrs. Grey, stepping softly from the hall, folded a white, fleecy shawl about the guest's shoulders saying gently: "Now, dear, you must go out and watch the moon rise over the lawn, and you will need this wrap. It is very cool outside."

Allison noticed with vexation that
the shawl was her mother's care
fully guarded best one that her brothe
r had sent last Christmas. Alli
son herself always declined to wear it that it might be saved for
mother. Yet here was this disagreeable, haughty, hateful
---
             

Allison stopped suddenly and tried to devote herself to clearing off the supper table, realizing that her state of mind was not charitable, to say the least. She went with swift feet and skillful fingers about the work of washing the supper dishes, and her mother, perhaps thinking it was just as well for Allison to have a quiet thinking time, did not offer to help, but sat on the piazza with their guest, talking quietly to her about her aunt, though she must have noticed that the girl did not respond very heartily nor seem much interested. By and by Allison slipped out with another shawl and wrapped it about her mother and the stranger saw in the moonlight the mother's grateful smile and the
lingering pressure she gave Allison's hand, and wondering, felt for the first time in her life a strange lack in her own existence.

"Are the dishes all washed, dear?" said Mrs. Grey a little while later, when Allison came out and settled at her mother's feet on the upper step.

"Yes, mother, and I have started the oatmeal for breakfast. You wanted oatmeal didn't you?"

During the few words that followed about domestic arrangements it became evident to Miss Rutherford that the other girl had actually washed the supper dishes and done a good deal of the work of the house that day. She looked at her with
curiosity and not a little sym
pathy. She felt a lofty pity for any girl who did not move amid the pleasures of society, but to be obliged to wash dishes seemed to the New York girl a state not far from actual degradation. And yet here was this girl talking about it as co
mposedly as if it were an every
day occurrence which she did not
in
the least mind. She wondered what could be the cause of the necessity for this state of things. Probably all the servants had decamped at once, it might be on account of the fear of smallpox. In that case
it might be that even she was in
danger of contagion. It would be well to investigate. Mrs. Grey had gone into the house and Allison sat on the step quietly looking out at the shadows on the lawn.

"You said your maid had left you, I think," said Miss Rutherford, trying to speak pleasantly. "Have all your servants gone? What was the matter? Were they afraid of the smallpox?"

"Oh,
dear no!" said Allison, this tim
e surprised out of her gravity into a genuine laugh. "There isn't any smallpox in town, only perhaps that one case you know. No, we never keep more than one servant. I did not say she had left; I said we had none now. She's not a maid
in
the sense you meant; she's the maid-of-all-work. She has been with mother since we were little children, but she is away on a vacation now. She always goes for a month every fall to visit her brother
in
Chicago, and during that month mother and I do all the work, all but the w
ashing. She only went to Chicago
day before yesterday, so we are just getting broken in, you see."

"Oh!" said Miss Rutherford slowly, trying to take in such a state of things and the possibility that anybody could accept it calmly. "And you only keep one servant? I'm sure I don't see how ever in the world you manage. Why, we keep four always, and sometimes five, and then things are never half done right. I should think you would just hate to have to do the work. Don't you?"

"Why, no," said Allison slowly. "I rather like it. Mother and I have such nice times doing it together. I love to make bread. I always do that part now; it's a little too hard for mother."

"Do you mean to say you can make bread?" The questioner leaned forward and looked curiously at the ot
her girl, as though she had con
fessed to belonging to some strange tribe of wild people of whom she had heard, but whom she had never expected to look upon.

"Why, certainly!" said Allison, laughing heartily now. "I can make good bread too, I think. Wasn't that good you had for supper?"

"Yes, it was fine. I think it was the best I ever ate, but I never dreamed a girl could make it. Don't you get your hands all stuck up? I should think it would ru
in
them forever. I've always heard work was terrible on the hands," and she looked down at her own white ones sparkling with jewels in the moonlight as if they might have become contaminated by those so lowly nearby.

"I have not found that my hands suffered," said Allison, in a cold tone, spreading out a pair as small and white and shapely as those adorned with rings. Her guest looked at her curiously again. Sitting there on the step in that graceful attitude, with the white scarf about her head and shoulders which her mother had placed there when she went in, and the moonlight streaming all about her, Miss Rutherford suddenly saw that the other girl was beautiful too. The delicately cut features showed clearly with the pure line of profile against the dark foliage in shadow behind her. Evelyn Rutherford knew that here was a face that her brother would rave over as being "pure Greek." What a pity that such a girl must be shut in by such surroundings, a little quiet village wherein she was buried, and nothing to do but wash dishes and make bread. Curiosity began to grow in her. She would try to find out how this other girl reconciled herself to such surroundings. Did she
know no better? or had she never heard of any other world, of life and gayety? What did she do with her time? She decided to find out.

"What in the earth do you do with yourself the rest of the time? You only have to wash dishes and make bread one month you say. I should think you would die buried away out here? Is there any life at all in this little place?"

If Allison had been better acquainted with her visitor she would have known that her tone was as near true pity as she had ever yet come
in
speaking to another girl. As it was, she recognized only a scornful curiosity, and it seemed an indignity put upon her home and her upbringing. She grew suddenly angry and with her habit of self-control waited a moment before she answered. Her questioner studied her meanwhile and wondered at the look that gradually overspread her face. She had lifted her eyes for steadying to the brilliant autumn skies, studded with innumerable stars.
Did they speak to her of the Fa
ther
in
heaven whom she recognized, of his wealth and power and all the glories to which she was heir? Did it suddenly come to her how foolish it was that she should mind the pity of this other girl, whose lot was set, indeed, amid earthly pleasures, but whose hope for the future might be so lacking? For suddenly the watcher saw a look almost of triumph mixed with one which seemed like pity, come over the fair young face before her, and then a joyous laugh broke out clear and sweet.

"Why, Miss Rutherford," she said, turning to look at her straight in the face, "I would not change my lot for that of any other girl in the world. I love
Hillcroft
with all my heart, and I love my life and my work and my pleasures. Why, I wouldn't be you for anything in the world, much as you may wonder at it. As for life here, there is plenty of it if you only know where to look for it."

Miss Rutherford about made up her mind that the investigation was not worth pursuing. It was not pleasant to have pity thrust back upon one in this style. She straightened back in the comfortable rocking-chair and asked in an
indifferent
tone:

"Then there is something going on? I always thought from aunt's letters that it must be a very poky place. What do you do?"

"There are plenty of young people here, and we are all interested in the same things. I suppose we do a great deal as they do in other places," mused Allison, wondering where to begin to tell about her life which seemed so full. Instinctively she felt that she must not mention first the pursuit dearest to her heart, her beloved Sunday-school class of boys, for it would not be understood. She thought a minute and then went on.

"We have a most delightful club,"
she said eagerly, her eyes kin
dling with pleasures past and to come. "I think you would enjoy that."

"Club?" said Miss Rutherford, stifling a yawn. "Girls or men?"

"Both," said Allison. 'The girls meet early and do the real, solid hard work, and in the evening the boys come and enjoy and learn and give the money."

"You don't say!" said Miss Rutherford, with interest. "How odd! I never heard the like. What do you do? I suppose you make fancy work and the men buy it for cha
rity and then you have a good time  i
n the evening. Is that it? What do you d
o? Dance? Or perhaps you are de
voted to cards."

She was quite at home now and began to feel as if perhaps her exile might be tolerable after all.

"Oh, no!" said Allison, almost shocked to see how far she had been from making her visitor understand. "Why it is a club of the young people of the church."

"Do you mean it is a reli
gious society?" questioned the girl, a covert sneer on her face.

"No, not religious,"
answered Allison; "but it is made up of the young people in our church. It is wholly secular and we have delightful times, but it is not a bit like society. We don't any of us play cards or dance, at least a great many of us don't know how a
nd don't care any
thing about those things. But we have most delightful meetings."

Then Allison entered into a detailed and glowing account of the last meeting of their unique club of young people, wherein was combined the intellectual, useful, and social. She warmed to the subject as she went on till it seemed to her that her guest could not but see how fascinating such evening entertainments could be. She told how her hostess
had contrived clever ways to make the entertainment of the evening bring in the subject which had been t
he theme of the afternoon's dis
cussion; and described the dainty arrangement of tables, flowers, lights, and refreshments to suit the occasion until she felt sure Miss Rutherford would see that she understood how things ought to be as well as if she lived in New York. Then she turned at the close to meet cold unresponsiveness and hear in the tone of entire indifference the word, "Indeed!" from Miss Rutherford.