GI Brides (39 page)

Dale hurried down to the kitchen and had a little talk with Hattie, who also implored her to rest. Hattie promised to prepare a good, substantial lunch that could be served whenever the erratic guests should choose to arrive and to make enough for Mr. Buffington, too, if he came back. So Dale did go and lie down with closed eyes for at least five minutes trying to pray her way through to quietness and peace. And she succeeded so well that there came a little gleam of brightness to her face. Then she remembered David Kenyon’s possible coming sometime in the near future. Oh, she hoped so much that if he did come her aunt and cousins would be gone by that time. She couldn’t bear the thought of having this bit of pleasantness spoiled by their presence, for she knew just how Corliss would behave.

Please find a way for them to go home, dear Lord, before he comes,
she prayed softly in her heart.

And then there came the sound of feet flying up the front walk, stamping into the house, and Corliss’s clarion voice calling loudly, “Dale! Oh Dale! Have you got any tennis rackets? We want to play tennis. We’ve found a tennis court that’s not in use, and we want some balls and rackets.”

Dale rose with a weary little sigh. She must answer. Of course tennis was a harmless amusement. It would be a good thing if those two could get interested in something absorbing. Yes, she had a couple of rackets that she and a dear friend, now married and gone to Africa as a missionary, used to have when they were in school together for a year. She hadn’t played herself since her friend left; there hadn’t been any opportunity, for she had come home to stay with her grandmother, who was beginning to be very feeble. But she had kept the rackets and balls and put them away as carefully as keepsakes of her girlhood, which she recognized was about over so far as games were concerned. She hated to give them up as they were precious for old times’ sake, but she didn’t need those rackets, would probably never use them again. Was that right? Why should she hang on to them when she would likely never have any use for them? Why not let these unlovely cousins get a little fun out of them? This was what Grandmother and God would likely want her to do.

“Yes,” she answered pleasantly. “Yes, I have a couple of rackets. It’s been some time since I had a chance to use them, but I’m sure they are in good condition. I oiled them before I put them away. I’ll get them.”

“Well, make it snappy! We want to get back before anybody else snitches the court.”

Dale was back in a moment, unwinding the soft tissue paper wrappings as she came down the stairs. But Corliss did not wait for her to get down. She sprang up the stairs and snatched the rackets from her, casting the wrappings in a heap on the stairs and almost tripping herself as she tore out the door and away, waving the rackets in the air, whacking the furniture and the door frame as she passed. “You’ll be careful of them, won’t you, please?” Dale called after her as she went.

“Okay, I’ll be careful of the old relics,” she jeered. “They don’t look like they’d be able to play more than a set or two without passing out! About the model they made before the ark, aren’t they?” She yelled all this up the street at her, and several elderly women came to their front doors to look out and see what it was all about. Dale felt sure they turned away pitying her for having such ill-mannered guests.

Dale sighed and turned back into the house, almost regretting that she had loaned her precious rackets. Yet how silly that was. What difference did it make if they did spoil her rackets? It was just sentiment, and that, of course, was silly.

So Dale put aside that burden as unworthy of her and thought no more about it until after dinner that night when her cousin said carelessly in answer to her query of how the game went, “Oh gee! I forgot to go back for the rackets. But it won’t make any difference. They’re neither of them fit to use again. They’re both broken!”

In spite of herself, Dale’s quick indignation rose. “Where did you leave the rackets?” she asked sternly.

“Oh, up around behind the bushes over at the end of the tennis court.”

“Come with me and show me,” Dale said authoritatively.

But Corliss only laughed. “It won’t do any good to go after them. Some kids were having a fight with them when I left. They won’t be any use now.”

Dale gave her a withering glance and, turning, went out the door and down the paving to the street, walking with swift steps toward the country club and the tennis courts that crowned the rise of the winding drive off to the left. Could she find her rackets? Well, she would try. But at least she would walk until she had her temper under control.

She went swiftly down the street and turned on to the road that led up to the country club. On, on, up the smooth, wide road, up the hill, up the drive that swept around in front of the country club, to the courts, on beyond the high stop nets at the end where the shrubs and bushes grew, down to the edge of the little winding brook that went with soft steps and glittering blue like a lovely ribbon, making pictures of itself in every nook and corner where it twinkled.

She stood for a moment letting her eyes follow the bright water down the hill, the soft sky above with white, fluffy clouds floating lazily. How lovely and sweet this scene was and how far from the ill-natured struggle of the day that had done so much to her tired nerves. She took a deep breath and let the scene creep into her senses, storing up the beauty. Just as she had so often done to carry the picture of the outside world to Grandmother.

She sighed as she turned away and thought sadly that now she had no one left to describe such things to, for she couldn’t think of going home and trying to tell Aunt Blanche about the scene. And she could hear her two cousins shouting with sneering laughter if she attempted any such conversation. Then her thoughts went to her new service-friend, David Kenyon. Yes, she could think of telling him about this scene. Perhaps when she met him again, she would remember to tell him. But that would be foolish, too, describing a scene in her local vicinity to him, a stranger. He had probably seen a lot more interesting ones. But it was lovely, and the sight of it had calmed her spirit so that she could go back and meet her careless cousin without frowning at her, she hoped.

Then she turned to go back home again and there at her feet she saw the rackets, lying in a heap just under the edge of a large bush that reached out over the brook. And the strings were gleaming wet as if they had been plunged into the water. Some of the strings were badly broken.

She picked them up, wiped the water away with her handkerchief, and tucking them under her arm, went swiftly home, entering the house by the back way where she would not be seen, going upstairs, and hiding the rackets in her own room.

Then she heard voices in the living room, a strange voice and a loud voice. Smoothing her hair, she hurried down to find out what had been happening during her absence.

A
s Dale came downstairs she could hear the pompous voice of Greenway Buffington boasting as he stood up by the front door, in the act of departing.

“Now, you don’t need to worry anymore, Mrs. Huntley. I’m quite sure we’ll come upon some definite evidence in a day or two. And if you can find those letters you spoke of, that would certainly clinch the matter. You might try long distance to your banker and have him look in your safe-deposit box. He’ll have a key, of course, and then he can send the letter on by airmail, and it won’t take over a week to work this thing out. I’m confident I can get the judge to arrange it to come on the docket soon and get the whole matter settled up in no time. And now, thank you for this retainer. Of course I’m accustomed to getting at least twice that for a retainer, but since it is you and since you bring a recommendation from my friend in Chicago, why, we’ll call it all right for the present. And of course when you get home, you can send me the rest. Well, good evening, Mrs. Huntley. You do that telephoning, and let me know the result. Good night.”

The door closed at last on the obnoxious lawyer, while Dale stood desperately on the stairs and tried to realize that there were perhaps days and days ahead of her filled with all sorts of incalculable discomforts.
Oh God, help me, all the way through,
her heart prayed, as she tried to gather up her courage and go forward.
Oh, if they will only
go
before David comes,
she thought to herself. And then her cheeks grew hot in the darkness of the dining room. She was thinking of him as David now. And he was coming again to see her, if only the government didn’t send him away before he had an opportunity to come. Well, she would have to take it all as it came, of course, and surely her God could bring all things to work together for good for her, and for the rightness of everything.

To Dale’s relief, Hattie rang the bell for the evening meal, and they all trooped into the dining room. Dale slipped into the kitchen for a hurried whispered conference with Hattie.

The lunch had been a sketchy affair, partaken of by Powelton and Corliss while Dale was out hunting for her rackets.

The cousins were seated at the table with an air of annoyance that there was any delay in the service when Dale came in, and they kept up a conversation among themselves, scarcely speaking to Dale except to ask her to pass the butter or order more ice water or coffee. And once her aunt told her that she really ought to speak to Hattie about putting so little shortening in her piecrust. “It’s really quite tough, you know, Dale,” she said, making a great show of having to work hard to cut the crust of the delicious apple pie she had just been served.

But Dale smiled good-naturedly. “We’re having a war, you know,” she said gently. “We can’t get as much fat as we might like to use.”

“A good cook can make tender crust without so much shortening,” said the aunt in a superior tone. “Why doesn’t she use cream if she can’t get lard?”

“We can’t get cream,” Dale said with a smile. “Won’t you have another cup of coffee, Aunt Blanche?”

“You always have an impertinent answer ready, don’t you?” said the aunt as she passed her cup for more coffee. “Well, the time is coming fast when you will sing another tune. I’ve found out a good many things this afternoon that will make you open your eyes in astonishment.” She flung this out as she rose from the table; then she went into the living room and took up the evening paper.

Corliss and Powelton soon sauntered off to a movie, and Dale was free for a little while. Then she was called to the telephone. It was Mr. Granniss.

“Is that you, Dale?”

Her voice was low and could not be heard in the living room, she was sure.

“Yes. This is Miss Huntley,” she answered pleasantly in accordance with his instructions.

“Is there anyone nearby to listen?”

“Possibly,” she said composedly.

“All right. Just answer yes or no, or very briefly. Has anything important developed?”

“No.”

“Are you worried?”

“A little.”

“Well, it isn’t necessary, everything is going to be all right. Forget it all and get a good night’s rest. I’ll be over in the morning.”

“Thank you.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

It was a simple conversation, but somehow it lifted a load of worry from Dale’s heart, and quietly she slipped from the telephone and went to the kitchen to help Hattie with the dishes and plan for the problematic morrow. Meantime she was wondering just what her aunt was planning for the night. So far, the guests had taken possession of the house pretty thoroughly for whatever purposes they chose, without any by-your-leave, except at night, and so Dale was left in doubt. But she did not intend to ask any questions. This visit would likely be at an end
some
time, and she wanted if possible to have no twinges of conscience lest she had not acted with perfect courtesy.

But there was no use in hoping that there would be any settlement of this question until the cousins came back from the movies, so she took a bit of sewing and a book in which she was interested and went into the living room. She would endeavor to be sociable if her aunt was so inclined, but if not, then she could read.

Mrs. Huntley seemed to be doing thorough work of the evening paper, for she read on and on, studying every page as if she were deeply interested in it, and Dale sat there with her book, trying to concentrate on it, and yet continually wondering what her aunt had been doing downtown all that day.

But at last the cousins came storming up on the porch, and without further ado and very few words, the guests took themselves away to the hotel, saying with an air of condescension that they would be back in the morning for breakfast and demanding that it be an early one, as their lawyer was coming again.

Then Dale, with a deep sigh of relief, locked the house and went to bed, after the long, long day. But as she was drifting off to sleep, her thoughts went happily to the telephone message from that officer this morning. She found herself wondering about it. Why had he taken the trouble to call her? He must have plenty of friends in camp, plenty of people who would invite him to spend a day or a weekend, and yet he had chosen to call her. That was wonderful. Of course they had had a very pleasant hour together that first time she found him sitting alone at the U.S.O., reading a much-thumbed newspaper. She had made hot tea for him and found some doughnuts, and then he had come out to the kitchen and helped her wipe dishes. She had been taking the place of three women who all had good reasons to be absent from the center that night, and it was getting late. Most of the fellows had gone away. He alone had been left. Why? Didn’t he care to go to the places they chose? Or was he not feeling well? She hadn’t bothered to ask him. He had just said he was a bit tired. But not too tired to wipe dishes. That was strange. Well, she had decided he was homesick and wanted to talk to some woman, so he had smiled at her and wiped dishes. They had had a nice little talk and he had walked home with her when she closed up for the night and left. Just being kind. It was nice of him. And the reason he came to the funeral and brought the flowers? He was sort of doing that for the sake of his own grandmother whose funeral he had not known of overseas even in time to send flowers.