Blue Ruin (12 page)

These thoughts were pleasant as an undertone of accompaniment to Jessie Belle’s chatter, but they suddenly arrived at the door of the theater and Jessie Belle asserted herself.

There were tears in Lynette’s eyes as she stood in the sunset glow and watched the two walk out the gate. She was trying to understand the feeling that possessed her soul. Was it possible that she was jealous of that common little painted girl with the long earrings and the jazzy manner? She who had trusted Dana all these years when they were apart?

But such a girl! How could he stand her? He really seemed amused with her. Still, of course he had to be polite to a stranger in his home. Yet, did he? By any code did he have to forget her on this day of all days? He had come after her at last, of course, but he had not seemed to recognize what he had omitted. He had brought no apology for slighting her invitation, only annoyance with her that she had seemed to expect him to come.

Well, probably she was tired and overwrought. She had counted too much on this special day. It was childish in her, of course. She must learn to control her feelings and not to be supersensitive. Didn’t Dana say something like that this afternoon? Somehow there seemed to have been a great many things that Dana said that were different from what she had expected, things that hurt. Perhaps she was becoming morbid. She would go in and try to make her family have a good time at least. They should not suspect that she was hurt to the soul. Never!

She went into the house, head up, smiling. A forced smile, but a smile. There were no tears in her eyes now. This thing was largely a matter of pride perhaps, or self-control. She would put it aside, and never should Dana suspect how she had been hurt by his easy willingness to stay away from her birthday supper. Someday probably it would all be explained and the hurt healed, but until then head up, eyes bright, a smile!

But oh, she thought as she turned the knob of the dining room door, if she only,
only
could get away and hide, far, far, far away till that terrible, cheap little girl was gone! It was so humiliating to have her see Dana in that mood. She had so openly gloated over her. But that was pride, too.

She opened the door and went in, a merry sentence about the gift her mother had given her upon her lips, but she noticed that her mother was still absent from the table, and the other two were sitting back obviously waiting for something.

“Why, where is Mother?” she asked surprised. “Not gossiping with the neighbors on the phone yet surely! What is it, the Mite Society, or the New Library reception? Elim, go motion to her to hurry up. We want to get playing some games or something before Grandmother has to go to bed. I’ve brought two or three new things home that I want us to try. They’re good fun, and I think you will like them. Go get her, Elim, rescue her from her friends.”

“I think it’s long distance, Lynn,” said her brother, eyeing her gravely, turned suddenly thoughtful now that she had really sent the favored Dana away with another girl.

“Long distance! Why, who could it be, now I’m home?” laughed Lynette.

Elim shrugged his shoulders.

“Search me! Might be Uncle Ream, mightn’t it?” he suggested. “I only know ‘twas long distance because of the long rings. They always do that when it’s far off, you know. Muth had some trouble getting connection. She had to wait.”

Lynette gave her brother a startled look.

“I hope nothing’s the matter, nobody sick or anything. They are sailing day after tomorrow, you know.”

Mrs. Brooke opened the door and came in then, looking flurried and excited, a bright spot of pink on either cheek.

“That was your Aunt Hilda,” she said, looking searchingly at her daughter. “Didn’t Dana come in, Lynette? Didn’t you ask him in for some cake and cream? There are several more molds in the freezer.”

“No, Dana didn’t come in. No, I didn’t ask him, Mother. We’re going to have a whole evening to ourselves for this once. What in the world did Aunt Hilda want? Why she wrote you a farewell letter and sent it by me. I hope you told her I delivered it. Mother, they aren’t any of them sick are they?”

“No, they are not sick,” said Mrs. Brooke, breaking off a bit of cake from her untouched slice and crumbling it absently as if to delay what she had to say. “No, there’s nothing the matter with them. But Cousin Marta Hamilton who was to occupy half the stateroom with your cousin Dorothy is not going. She’s had a telegram from her brother-in-law out West that her sister is very low with pneumonia and she is needed to come and look after the children. She left on the six o’clock train tonight, and now that throws everything out, for Hilda simply won’t hear to Dorothy’s being in a cabin by herself, or with any stranger, and they’ve tried everybody they can think of and nobody can go. Lynette, your Uncle Reamer is determined that you shall go. He thinks you ought to. He says it will be an experience that will last you your whole life and you may never have another opportunity to go. He seems to think your father would have wanted you to have the advantages of travel. He is very insistent, and I don’t know but he is right. Lynnie, I don’t know but we ought to reconsider. Anyhow I promised we would think it over and let them know at half-past ten when they will call up again.”

“How ridiculous!” said Lynette sharply. “They’re sailing day after tomorrow, and I haven’t a thing ready. Aunt Hilda and Dorothy have been preparing for six months.” There was finality and a certain amount of satisfaction in her tone.

“Your aunt says you won’t need to bother about anything. Just bring two or three dresses to wear on the voyage. She will see that you have all the little extras. Cousin Marta has left her steamer trunk and a lot of little traveling necessities for whoever takes her place, and the rest you can buy abroad when you need it.”

“Well, it’s not to be thought of, of course,” said Lynette almost crossly. “You know what you said about my being home this summer. I’m going to stay here. And besides, I promised to go fishing tomorrow with Elim,” she finished with a smile at her brother.

“Aw, gee, Lynn. You s’pose I’d let you stay home from a trip like that to go fishing ‘ith me? I think you oughtta go, Lynn. I sure do! Why, a trip like that! Why, gee! You could get me some samples of things and write wonderful letters! Why good-night, Lynn, there’ll be fish when you get back! And besides,” he added bitterly, “if you stayed home you’d just trail off with that Dana Whipple. You wouldn’t be much good to any of us.”

This was intended for a joke, but there was a bitter tang to it that made Lynette look at him reproachfully.

“And your aunt says,” spoke up Mrs. Brooke again, “that she wants you on Dorothy’s account. She said she wanted to put it up to your conscience. They’re really worried about Dorothy. She has been off to that school and got all sorts of strange notions, and she’s depending on you to help her get a different viewpoint on life.”

“Well,” said Lynette, “I think my duty is at home. I haven’t seen Grandmother for ages.”

“Lynnie,” said Grandmother Rutherford, “if it’s for my sake, I think you ought to go. I’d take great pleasure in reading your letters from all those wonderful places, and it wouldn’t be so long. A year goes fast.”

“But—” said Lynette with troubled brow, “Mother?”

“Yes,” said the mother, studying her girl’s clouded face, “yes. Lynnie, I realize you must look at this matter from every side before you decide. Would you want to—I mean would you feel that you had to consult with Dana before you make your decision? Because Elim could run down to Whipples’, or we could phone for him.”

“No!” said Lynette sharply again. “Dana has nothing to do with it! This is something I have to decide for myself. Besides, Dana thinks I’m a fool not to go. He told me so this afternoon.”

There was silence in the room while the three listeners took in this thought and turned it over. Then the old lady leaned forward with her dear, beautiful, cameo smile.

“Lynnie,” she said, “I think it would be beautiful. I want you to go. You’ve never been anywhere much but college and here, and a trip to New York now and then. It’s time you saw the world a little before you settle down. And Lynnie, there’s a little money I’d put aside. I meant to give it to you when you got married, but I’d rather give it to you now. I want you to take it and use it on whatever you find over there you think is worth bringing home. I want you to get some real pretty clothes for one thing. I’ve always heard they were cheaper there than here. And some pictures and curious things and pretty things. I think I’d enjoy seeing what you got with it.

“Then you’d have some money of your own, in case it wasn’t always pleasant to be dependent on others.”

“Oh, you dear Grandmother!” said Lynette, and now her eyes were really filled with tears. “I couldn’t,
couldn’t
go and leave you all,” she said, throwing her arms around her grandmother’s neck and kissing her.

“Oh gee! You gotta go of course, Lynn,” said Elim earnestly. “Why Lynn, it’ll be just like us all going to have you go. You always make things so real when you tell ‘em. Say, if you get to Jerusalem there’s a fella at school has an uncle out there, had a land syndicate or something, I forgot what, but he says it’s great. Says they gotta railroad and a lotta things. Say, I’ll let you take my new camera with you, and you can take pictures of everything and then we’ll know it’s real.”

And so they talked on, forgetting that the table had not been cleared nor the dishes washed, forgetting that there was more ice cream in the freezer at the back door and that it was long after Grandmother Rutherford’s bedtime. They talked and talked, but they did not mention Dana. But all the time Lynette was thinking of him, feeling the hurt in her heart that he had forgotten her birthday, crying out against his criticism of her that day, bleeding in her soul for the tryst he had forgotten and her dreams that had not come true. Yes, there was no denying that in her present state of mind she would like to go abroad, run away tonight if that might be and leave no trace behind her for a little while till Dana had come back to himself. She never doubted but that Dana would come back to himself.

And then, before any absolute decision had been reached, the telephone rang out sharply and insistently.

“There they are, kid, go to it!” sang out Elim. “Let me answer. I’ll tell ‘em you’re going!”

“Oh, but I
can’t
, Mother,” said Lynette looking toward her mother in a kind of panic.

“Certainly you can, Lynnie. It’s all perfectly all right, child. I’ll go talk to your aunt.”

Lynette could hear her mother’s voice.

“Hello. Yes, this is Mrs. Brooke. Yes, Hilda, yes, this is Mary. Yes, I think we’ve about persuaded her. Here, Lynnie, come and talk to your aunt yourself.”

And Lynette walked slowly out to the telephone. When she came back she was committed to the trip.

They did some rapid planning after that and then sent each other off to bed. But when Lynette took off the blue dress that she had made with so many hopes and dreams for the wearing on this momentous day, and folded it to be put into her suitcase instead of hanging in her closet, her lips quivered, and she said aloud, “Oh, oh,
oh!
How
can
I ever go away with things all in such a mess?”

Chapter 9

D
ana Whipple, having dismissed the annoyances of the moment for settlement late the next afternoon, really began to enjoy himself. He had not been to a movie in four or five years, and it seemed a pleasant enough diversion with Jessie Belle by his side to chatter away, regardless of the black looks that were turned in her direction and the pointed remarks about people who couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Who cared what the neighbors in the dark said?

Dana was thoroughly entertained. Jessie Belle was an entirely new type to him. He told himself that it would be a good experience, getting to know her point of view. A minister needed to know all classes of people.

He told her the picture was rotten. Some parts were exceedingly silly, sentimental he called it.

Lynette was sentimental. There it was again, always getting around to Lynette!

He tried to argue with Jessie Belle about the movie. He called it vapid, and she said she didn’t care, it was amusing, and what else did one want in an evening’s entertainment? He found she was past master at sliding out of a corner. Just a silly, pretty child without a brain in her head, he told himself. What could you expect? But she was good fun and a relaxation after the strenuous exertion of his last year in seminary. He amused himself by trying to tell her what life in the seminary was like, and laughed over her clever scorn at young men who buried themselves in such a place for four whole years out of the best time of their life.

Occasionally an uncomfortable memory of Lynette’s parting glance, that wide-eyed look of hurt surprise and withdrawal, pierced him like a thorn in tender flesh, but he told himself that it was best so. It really had to come to a showdown between Lynette and himself, and it might just as well be now as later. Lynette had been getting notions in her head in that backwoods college and they must be got out of her before it was too late.