Partners (6 page)

A moment later she heard slow footsteps coming determinedly up the stairs. Mrs. Beck was on her way to inspection.

Dale hurriedly slipped the paper, oranges and all, under the curtain of her wardrobe corner and was washing her hands composedly when the tap came at her door. She waited to wipe her face and hands before she went to open it, and to give just a brush to her soft hair, trying to gather her composure. How terrible it was going to be to have an espionage like this over her!

"Yes?" she said pleasantly as she opened the door partway. "Did you want something, Mrs. Beck? I was just freshening up a little after my day in town."

But Mrs. Beck did not take the hint that Dale was not anxious to receive callers just then, and her glance was searching hurriedly through the room as she stood firmly waiting to be invited in.

A kind of cunning came into the hard eyes as she faced her young roomer.

"Oh, I won't hinder you. I'll just sit down and talk a little while you dress. How d'you make out?"

Mrs. Beck took firm hold of the door and opened it enough to admit her skinny frame, entered and sat down on the nearest chair, her eyes searching every corner of the room again to find out where the oranges were that had required the assistance of the third-story-front unapproachable young man.

"Make out?" said Dale sinking wearily into the other chair, but she made no move to go on with her dressing. "Make out with what, Mrs. Beck?"

"Why, get on with the man you went to meet? The man that telephoned you?"

"Oh," smiled Dale, "that was only a business appointment." She spoke lightly. "Thank you for calling me. I'm sorry you had the trouble."

The woman looked at her vexedly.

"Yes, but how'd ya make out?"

"Make out? Oh, I got there in time, thank you, and got the information I needed. It was all right."

"Oh, was that all!" said Mrs. Beck disappointedly. "I thought perhaps you had found a good job. A good paying job, ya know. That's what I'm always interested in. Ya know, I don't run this house for benevolence, and this is a good room. I can always find a tenant for this at more than you are payin' me."

"Well, now that's kind of you to take an interest in me, Mrs. Beck. But if at any time you find a tenant that you think would be a better prospect than I am, be sure you come right and tell me. I wouldn't want to stand in the way of your getting a good paying tenant who can give more than I can."

"Oh, I wasn't hintin' that I want ya to get out," said Mrs. Beck retracting her severe manner somewhat. "Of course, I haven't known ya very long, and I don't know so much about ya. I just wanted to make sure that ya are going to be able ta go along all right."

"Yes?" said Dale, with a flavor of the question "Oh, yeah?" in her tone. Then she smiled. "Of course, I know you have to look out for your roomers, Mrs. Beck. But don't worry about me. I'm all right for the present, and if there comes a time when I think I can't pay my rent I'll be sure to let you know in plenty of time. And thank you for the table. It's going to be quite convenient I know."

"Well, of course I like to do all I can for my roomers," said Mrs. Beck. "It was one that I always used in my own room, but I don't mind makin' a few sacrifices for folks that pays on time."

Dale considered this and decided to accept the sacrifice without any words about it, and the pause gave space for Mrs. Beck to come to the real point of her visit.

"Didn't I see Mr. Rand comin' back up the stairs with ya? I thought I'd find him up in his room, but I listened and he don't seem to be there."

"Oh, was that Mr. Rand? I didn't know," said Dale indifferently. "He was coming out just as I was coming in, and I was having a little trouble with some of my packages. The bag broke on some fruit I was carrying, and he very kindly helped me to gather it up, and insisted on carrying it the rest of the way up. But I think he went right down again. I didn't notice. I came into my room. It was very kind of him."

"Then you'd met him?"

"Met him? Oh, no. I didn't even know who he was. But he certainly was very polite."

"Well, I've noticed you girls all have your clever tricks of gettin' acquainted," said Mrs. Beck with an unpleasant grin that sat unkindly upon her shrewd bony countenance.

An angry flash came into Dale's eyes, but she turned away and lifted her chin haughtily.

"There's going to be a gorgeous sunset," she said irreverently. "I'm wondering if that stove is going to be enough to keep this room comfortable when really cold weather begins."

Mrs. Beck bristled at once.

"Nobody's ever complained that this room wasn't comfortable, even in really zero weather," she said sharply.

"Oh, is that so? That sounds hopeful. I shouldn't wonder if we're due for some pretty cold weather the next few weeks. The sky tonight, though it's beautiful, looks almost threatening. I wouldn't be surprised to see snow before morning."

"Oh, no," said Mrs. Beck decidedly. "No snow this month. We always have such lovely falls in this region. Say, why don't ya go down and visit those girls along your hall? They was speakin' of you this mornin'. Lily said they was havin' a good game of cards down in the parlor, and she said they wouldn't feel bad if you wanted to get in on it. You can consider that an invitation. I know they'll be glad ta see ya."

"Well, thank you. That is kind of them, but, you see, I have some work that I must do tonight. And besides, I don't play cards. I'm afraid I wouldn't be very welcome even if they did invite me."

"Oh, they'd teach ya. They've taught several young men. I know ya'd have a good time. They always go out for a beer, or ice cream, or somethin' at the end. Dutch treat, ya know. They're an awful jolly lot, and I'm sure ya'd fit in with 'em real good if ya'd only come and try it."

"Well, I do appreciate their interest, Mrs. Beck, but I really haven't time for such things, and I'm sure you would find I didn't fit. You see, I'm a very busy person and can't take time for play very often. Not that kind of play. I have a great deal of reading I want to do, and I must get to sleep early. Please tell them thank you for me, and say I can't spare the time."

"Well, ya're makin' a great mistake, that's all I've got ta say," said Mrs. Beck with a sniff. "It don't pay to be all work an' no play. Ya'd oughtta learn ta play cards and drink beer, and be a jolly good fella. Ya can't expect to get jobs and keep 'em if ya can't get on with other girls in your class and age. It ain't natural. Well, don't blame me if ya break down an' get sick an' hafta be took off ta the hospital."

"Oh, no, Mrs. Beck. I won't blame you!" laughed Dale as Mrs. Beck arose haughtily and left the room, slamming the roomer's door just the least little bit.

But then almost immediately she opened it again a narrow crack and added: "An' don't flatter yerself that yer gonta curry favor with that stuck-up newspaperman, breakin' her fruit bags all over the place till he has ta take pity on ya and carry 'em up fer ya! That don't mean a thing with him. He don't take ta no ladies at all. He's all fer hisself an' no mistake!"

This time the door was shut finally and firmly, and presently Dale ventured to lock it and sit down for a good hearty laugh.

The new job went well, and Dale was contented in it. Only that from the first it was evident that the former secretary was the real one who owned that job, and Dale was considered only a substitute. For Miss Alice Carhart was beloved by all, and everything that was done was done on the pattern that "Miss Alice" had left behind her. Dale had no quarrel with her ways, for they seemed to be excellent ones in every line. But the constant feeling that everyone was waiting for Miss Alice to return, and she was nothing here, and never would be, made her lose heart sometimes. There was no incentive to work, feeling that the day might very soon come when she would again be without a job.

Oh, they were kind to her at the office, always ready to help if her work was heavy, always cheerful and smiling. But she felt an outsider, and it seemed to be kept continually before her mind that she was nothing else.

Sometimes she would try to tell herself that perhaps this would go on longer than they all seemed to think. Only that would mean that the other girl Alice would be disappointed in not getting her strength back as soon as she had hoped, and Dale didn't want disappointment for any girl. This other girl needed it as much as she did probably, and had evidently worked for her promotions and this place in the office as hard as ever she was willing to work. She was not jealous and would not want to take anything away from another. Only she wanted so much to have a place of her own, where she was wanted and needed.

So when she would come to this time of an evening, and lie in the dim light of the oil stove trying to get the better of her loneliness, her heart would almost break. There was only the sound of the hilarious laughter from downstairs where they were playing cards, or where the radio was rolling out a lot of jazz music.

Then she would get up, turn on her light, now shrouded under a soft pretty shade, and sit down with her Bible for a little while.

It wasn't often she gave way to discouragement, because as the days went by she grew more and more interested in her work, and, whether it was counting for her personal advancement or not, she liked to do it well. She liked to feel that each day's work had been done for the Lord Christ, for He was growing more and more a clear Presence in her life, to whom she was accountable, and to whom she turned for approval.

And she was not without approval from those for whom she worked. They recognized her worth, and often gave commendation, which made a warm, pleasant feeling around her heart.

There were a few other girls in her office who were uniformly friendly, and three or four young men, but they all had their own little circles and Dale was not one to push herself in. So for the most part she went her own way alone, and had a feeling that the world was a very large, lonely place.

She hadn't even found a church in which she felt at home, though she knew that was largely her own fault. Those she had encountered had either been too far away for regular attendance, or had been so formal and almost worldly in their tone, that they did not draw her. Also she was very tired on Sunday, and sometimes slept late, too late to go a distance, and she knew she must not spend money in carfare. She must save every penny possible and be ready for a long and perhaps a desperate time in the middle of winter without a job.

If she could have had a tiny radio it would have helped her greatly, but there again she was stopped by the cost of buying one. Even books from the library and magazines must be seldom indulged in. Her work was close and strenuous, and she must save her eyes. Some of the other girls were wearing glasses, and they talked in the office now and then of the cost of having eyes examined. She must just take care of her eyes and prevent the need of glasses.

Dale had met the three girls of whom Mrs. Beck discoursed so frequently, and they had mutually disliked and scorned one another and kept apart.

But she had not met the young man again who had helped her pick up her oranges, except briefly as they passed each other in the hall and nodded good morning. For mindful of Mrs. Beck's insinuations, Dale had been most careful not to be around when she knew he would be likely to be there. She wanted that fine old gossip to have as little to hang her gossip on as possible. She wanted her to see that she was not the kind of girl who would go out and tear open a bag of oranges at the feet of a desirable young man in order to get acquainted. Why she cared what Mrs. Beck thought of her, she didn't know, but she kept out of sight as much as possible. And considering the fact that George Rand was a most reticent young man himself, it was not strange that they had not met often and that the vision of his pleasant grin gradually faded from Dale's thoughts.

Also George Rand was away a good deal, covering conventions of importance, political and otherwise, for his paper. Sometimes he was sent far west, and again to New York, and then to Chicago or Texas. Sometimes down to Washington for a day or a week. Always he came back to his third-story front room between each migration, but often it was late at night when he returned, and he would be away again early in the morning. At last even Mrs. Beck ceased to speak of him to Dale, as if he were of no particular moment to her. She had about decided that Dale was hopelessly uninteresting. She couldn't fathom her at all. Why did a girl want to be like that? Why didn't she want to have good times with other girls? Why didn't she make herself up a little and get a "boyfriend"? Dale seemed to her almost as grown up and far away from ordinary living as a middle-aged businessman, and yet she was a pretty girl if she only would fix herself up.

But whenever Dale did think of the young man whom she had met so pleasantly that one time, she found she was glad he belonged in the house. He seemed a bit of respectable atmosphere, in the midst of so much that was impossible.

And then one day there began to be talk of the return of "Miss Alice." She was better, it appeared, and longing to get back to her work.

It was the young foreman from the printing department who told Dale.

"They say Miss Alice is coming back before Christmas," he said cheerily, and Dale felt as if he had struck her across the heart. Did that then mean she was out of a job?

She scarcely slept that night for thinking of it. True, the manager had promised to let her know in due time and had said he would do his best to get something else for her, but she had been working for other people long enough to realize that they did not always remember what they had promised to do, or often were unable to do what they wished. It would therefore likely be entirely up to her to find a new job, and so she set to work making quiet inquiries. She couldn't leave, of course, until the former secretary returned, but if she had something definite to go to it would make the way much easier.

She thought about going to the manager to find out if the report was true about Miss Alice, but she decided against it. It was better to go on doing the best that she could, just hoping that a place would be made for her somewhere. But she cut short each lunch hour and systematically set to work to discover any vacant places nearby. None, however, were forthcoming that she felt were right for her, and the days that had been fairly bright and interesting now went slowly dragging under a heavy burden of worry. And now, more and more the rumors kept coming. Different ones of her fellow laborers had received letters from Miss Alice rather confirming the report the young foreman had told her. And one night when she had come home after a fruitless search and cast herself down on her bed letting the tears have their way, it came to her that this was no way to trust God. She had told Him she would trust Him and let Him have His way with her, even if it seemed for a time as if she would starve. Well, she was a long way from starving yet. She still had money enough to pay for her room for a few weeks yet, enough if she was very careful to feed her also the same length of time. And, of course, there would be at least a week's pay coming to her if they discharged her. She wasn't down to the limit yet. She must learn to trust. Perhaps that was the reason why God was bringing her so low, that she might learn to trust Him. As for the money from the fabulous uncle, she discounted it entirely.