GI Brides (36 page)

“We’ll see about that!” said the aunt hatefully. “You are not beginning very well for the favors I was planning to give you. I had decided to ask you to come and live with us. I know you have no money to live on, and you are scarcely prepared to earn your living in any way, so I thought it was really my duty to look out for my dead husband’s only niece. But you certainly do not give the impression of being very good-natured or adaptable, and we shall have to have a thorough understanding before I can go on and make the offer I had intended. But this first thing must be understood:
I
am taking over in this matter about the house. It will eventually be mine, and I do not intend to lose the opportunity of a sale to a man who is willing to pay a good price.”

Dale faced her aunt with steady calmness. “You will do nothing about this house, Aunt Blanche, because you have no right to do anything. Tomorrow morning my lawyer, Mr. Randall Granniss, will be here at ten o’clock, with all the papers to show you how impossible your claims are. I called him last night and arranged this, and he said he would bring all the data relating to the house.”

“Oh
really
! You presume to have a lawyer? Well, that’s ridiculous! A girl of your age having a lawyer.”

“He is the lawyer whom my father left in charge of my affairs,” said Dale quietly.

“Yes? Well, you’ll find you’ll have to prove all this.”

“Yes, certainly, Mr. Granniss will bring the proof.”

“Well, if you are going to such lengths, I shall certainly have to call up the lawyer to whom I was recommended. Just excuse me, and I’ll call him.”

“Certainly,” said Dale calmly and then sat down and covered her tired eyes with her hands. How right Grandmother had been when she had warned her about this aunt and had prepared for all such contingencies as were happening one by one.

Out in the hall at the telephone she could hear her aunt’s sharp voice demanding to speak with a certain Mr. Greenway Buffington. Then the voice lowered into a confidential scream. But Dale resolutely held her weary eyes shut and, in her heart, began to pray:
Oh God, be with me. Protect me through all this unpleasantness. Help me not to be a false witness. Help me to show these people, who in a sense belong to me, that I have a Savior who is able to keep me. Guard my tongue that it may speak the truth in quietness and peace, and not let anger come into the conversation. Keep me calm and trusting.

In a little while, Aunt Blanche came back into the living room and announced, “My lawyer will be here tomorrow afternoon. That will make it possible for me to expose to him all the machinations of the man you say is your lawyer.”

“Very well,” answered Dale quietly, without opening her eyes, and her aunt flounced down into a rocking chair and fairly snorted in anger. After a few minutes, Dale heard her get up and go upstairs. She heard her walk the length of the hall to Grandmother’s room and try the door but failed to get in, though she rattled and shook it. Dale sat still. She had locked that door and had the key in her pocket. Moreover, she had gone through the adjoining bathroom and
bolted
the door from inside and then locked the bathroom, so it was impossible for her aunt to enter the room without actually breaking down the door. She sat still for a few minutes and then went up to her own room and lay down on the bed. She was very tired, and it just did not seem she could stand any more argument.

She was awakened a few minutes later by a loud, determined knocking on her door.

“Yes?” she said, sitting up sharply and trying to get her senses back from the deep sleep into which she had fallen.

It was her aunt’s voice that answered her: “Aren’t we going to have an evening meal? Or hadn’t you thought of that?”

Dale got to her feet and staggered to the door. “I’m sorry,” she said, putting her hand to her eyes and trying to make her voice pleasant, “I should have told you. I didn’t realize I would fall asleep so soon. I really was very tired, you know.”

Her aunt gave her an unsympathetic glance. “We
all
are!” she said coldly. “And of course we
are
guests, so we couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Well, if you don’t mind foraging for yourselves this once,” Dale said pleasantly, putting her hand up to her forehead, “there are sandwiches and salad in the refrigerator, also a pitcher of iced coffee and plenty of milk. You’ll find an apple pie in the pantry, or if you prefer custard, you’ll find some in the refrigerator, and there’s a sponge cake in the cake box. I think if you don’t mind I’ll just sleep this off. I’m rather dizzy.”

“Oh!” said the aunt ungraciously. “Well, I didn’t expect to have to do the housework when I came, but if you’re
really
sick, of course we’ll do the best we can.”

With a deep sigh, as if she were being ill treated, Aunt Blanche summoned her children, and they went out to the kitchen and certainly made a mess of Hattie’s neat kitchen and pantry and refrigerator. But for once, Corliss had a chance to sample everything in sight.

D
ale went back to sleep, being thoroughly worn out by the strain of the last two days and the sudden realization that her beloved grandmother was gone from her and she was now on her own. But she was too near the breaking point to do any more connected thinking now, and hearing only dimly the sounds of the slamming refrigerator door and the breaking of a dish or two, she sank quickly into a deep sleep.

It was several hours later that she awoke suddenly to a realization that a tremendous storm was in progress—lightning, thunder, wind, and rain—and the wind was blowing rain fiercely from the open window into her face. The lightning made her room bright as day.

Dale brushed her wet hair away from her face and hurried wildly across the room to shut her window. Then, turning, the lightning shivered blankly into darkness for an instant and she glimpsed a line of brightness under her door and realized that there must be lights on and perhaps windows open in the rest of the house.

She unlocked her door, flung it open, and stood listening an instant before another thunder crash came. There was no sound except the thunder, but there was a tremendous draft pouring up the stairs. She hurried down the stairs, noting that the lights were on everywhere and that the front door and all the windows were open just as she had left them when she went upstairs. “Aunt Blanche!” she called as she hurried down. “Corliss! Where are you all?”

But there came no answer.

Then the clock struck solemnly. “One! Two!
Three!
”

Dale’s startled eyes went wonderingly to the clock. Was it right? Could it be three o’clock in the morning? Could she possibly have slept all this time? And where were her guests? Asleep upstairs?

She cast a quick glance back and upward, but all the bedroom doors except Grandmother’s were standing wide open. Surely they wouldn’t have gone to bed and left their doors open that way, left all the lights burning and the doors and windows open.

Another gust of wind, another crashing clap of thunder, and she hurried down and shut the front door, then went from one window to another closing them quickly. In the dining room and kitchen she found a hopeless clutter of dirty dishes and half-eaten food. The big serving plate that had been piled high with delicious sandwiches was empty. Absolutely. Not a crumb left! The pie was demolished and half the bowl of custard gone. The iced coffee was gone also, and some of the milk, while half-filled milk bottles were standing around, indicating that the cream had been drunk first and the rest left out of the refrigerator. In fact, further investigation showed that the refrigerator doors were both standing wide open.

Vexed, Dale pushed them shut, gave a hopeless look around the devastated rooms, then walked on to the living room and looked around. That room was as bad as the others, for everything that could be lifted by the wind had been tossed about. Several comics and joke books were on the floor, torn and crumpled, blown here and there. A game of Chinese checkers was blown from the little end table where it had been used, the pieces all over the floor. Three or four books were lying open, facedown on the floor, and two more had pages torn and crumpled by the wind. Her guests had evidently eaten everything within sight, tried all the forms of amusement they could discover, and then gone their ways.

Dale looked around in vain for a note they might have left, but found none. If there had been one, it must have blown away. Well, evidently they had gone to the hotel for the night. A glance at the kitchen clock confirmed the hour again. And there was nothing she could do about it. It was too late to call up the hotel and wake everybody there, and what end would it serve anyway?

Dale sat down and looked around, considering what she ought to do. In her indignation she would have liked to lock the house up and refuse admittance when they came back for breakfast, but she knew that would not be Grandmother’s way; and, too, it would not be God’s way. God, who had cared for her in all that storm and wind, lying asleep and unprotected in an open house that was lit from top to bottom with wide open doors and windows. Yes, God had been watching over her. Well, this was the challenge she had to meet, and she must go through with it.

God, help me to do right, and please protect me from having to meet with more than I can bear.

Then Dale got up and went to work.

She took off the pretty dress in which she had lain down in her weariness and put on a cotton housedress from the hook in the kitchen. Then she went to work in the living room first, quietly, swiftly pulling down the window shades to guard against curious, puzzled neighborly eyes, if any chanced to be awake. She gathered up all the papers and scattered things from the floor, swept the checkers into a drawer of the table, piled the books and stowed them in the bookcase, taking care to lock the bookcase and place the key in safety. She gathered the plates and cups that evidently held snacks from the evening meal and carried them to the kitchen. Then she came back and turned out the living room lights and the hall lights and closed the doors to the dining room and kitchen.

The enemy might not return very early the next morning, but it was just possible that Hattie might, in case she found her sister much better, and Dale did not want Hattie to know what had been going on. For Hattie needed no more fuel added to the fury of her indignation. Hattie was already irate, and she would find it difficult to restrain a bitter tongue if she once got started telling the relatives what she thought of them. So it was up to Dale to obliterate the traces of what had happened, and that meant doing thorough work in both kitchen and dining room.

The dishes were all marshaled into the kitchen first; then she went to work with broom, dishpan, and carpet sweeper. It was too late at night, or too early in the morning, to use the vacuum cleaner and startle the neighborhood. She must work quietly.

When the sweeping and dusting were done, she gathered the tablecloth for the laundry bag. It had been shining clean when Hattie set the table for the evening meal and departed. But now it was smeared with three different kinds of jam, which had been taken from the pantry shelves and sampled. There would have to be a clean cloth and napkins for breakfast, in case they had to serve a company-breakfast. And of course they would. There was no chance of the unwanted guests leaving for their home until they were entirely satisfied about a will or property they had hoped to get by coming to this funeral. Dale sighed and wished Grandmother hadn’t thought it necessary to send for these unlovely folks. But of course it was right that they should know of her death.

Dale’s weariness came back upon her when she was about half through washing the mountain of dishes that the intruders had managed to soil, but she plodded steadily on, working so quietly that even a curious neighbor who might have gotten up to look out her window would never know that dishes were being washed. She was thankful that the kitchen windows were guarded by shades that had a dark green back and therefore no light would shine through to the outside world. Thankful also for the storm that continued to thunder noisily on to cover any unavoidable noises she might make. She did not want those dear, friendly neighbors to know what had happened in Grandmother’s home the night after she had left it. Dear Grandmother!

The dawn was beginning to creep into the sky when at last Dale wiped and put away the last of the dishes and washed and hung up her dish towels to dry. She was very weary, but it did her good to realize that even if her visitors should return now they would see no signs of the devastation they had wrought. It was all in order again, lovely quiet order. And if their consciences did not reproach them for what they had done, she would not be the one to do it. That was as Grandmother would have wanted it.

She cast a quick glance into the plundered refrigerator. There were enough eggs. They could be scrambled for breakfast. And there was enough dry bread to make toast. That with coffee should be enough to give them. She would make no apologies.

Wearily she turned out the lights and climbed the stairs to her own room again, undressing in the dark and getting gratefully into bed. She would sleep just as long as she pleased. If they came back before she was up, they could sit on the porch until she got up. There were plenty of porch chairs there. They might be damp from the storm, but she couldn’t do anything about that now. She
must
get a little more sleep, for she felt certain that tomorrow was going to be a hard day. And of course she must be up and rested in time for her lawyer who was coming. She was so glad that she had called him up the night before and told him all about the situation. She knew he could be counted on to look out for everything. He had been her trusted guardian for years.

So she went to sleep again, and the day began slowly, widening into brightness after the storm.

Dale dressed rapidly. The day would be a hard one—it could not help but be—but she must not allow herself to give way to the weariness that threatened to sweep over her now and then. She had not had enough sleep. That was true. She had been through a great strain. Yes. But she was expected to go through this. God would take care of her. How He had helped in small, quiet ways all the way through these hard days.
She
must not fail Him.