Tomorrow About This Time (37 page)

She stooped and picked it up wonderingly. It was almost the first time in her life she had gathered trophies from the woods, the first time any boy had presented her with anything so glorious and so wild.

Barry was down again in a second as if it had been nothing to climb like that, and was walking beside her telling her about the scarlet maples in the fall. Then all at once he turned and pointed.

“Now, you go across that meadow. When you get to the corner of the board fence turn to the right next to the pasture and go straight ahead of you, and nobody will get a chance to see who you are before you are at home. I won’t go with you. It will be better not. Those Vandemeeters have eyes all over the house. Here! Do you want this junk?”

Athalie with her arms full of the gorgeous leaves made her way slowly across the sod of the pasture and around the corner of the fence thinking over all that had happened, wondering why the boy didn’t come all the way with her, why he minded those old Vandemeeters, getting a thought of his reasons into her soul, comparing them with all her father had said, resolving to try again, and saying over as she entered her own gate, “Spinach! Spinach! How I hate it!”

The spring deepened into summer and school had closed. Athalie felt lost. Her father was immersed in his book and had little time for golf. Mary Truman and her mother and brother had gone away to the mountains for a month; several of the other girls were visiting relatives in the country or at the seashore, or taking little trips. She had to stay around the house and garden. Always there was Silver everywhere in the way. She did not get any nearer to Silver.

Barry came one day and took Silver away in the minister’s car to see a sick child two miles out of town. The minister had sent for her to come and bring some broth. They all came home together with a sheaf of goldenrod and got out with much laughter and chatter. Athalie from the upper window watched them. There was a look in Bannard’s eyes as he helped Silver from a car that made her suddenly feel all alone in the world. Barry, too! He came in after them carrying flowers. Silver had a heap of velvet moss in her hands dotted with scarlet berries. She was carrying it carefully. The minister put out his hand to catch a falling spray of the vine where the berries grew. Barry was close, with deep admiration in his face. He answered something Silver said and flashed his beautiful smile. Silver on the step above him broke a tiny spray of goldenrod from the armful he had just handed her and, stooping, fastened it in his buttonhole. She could not hear the byplay of words that went with the act; she could only see the flush of pleasure on Barry’s face, the tender smile on Bannard’s, Silver’s look of utter joy and content. A pang of jealousy like none she had ever felt before shot through her undisciplined heart. Her face was almost distorted with hate, and the red-hot tears went coursing down her face so that she could not see Barry and the minister as they went back to the car. They had not asked for her. They had not either of them suggested that she go along. If Barry had done so when he came for Silver she would have gone. This once she would have gone, if just to keep Silver from riding in the front seat with Barry. But Barry had not asked it. Barry had not cared about anything except just to make her safe for her father’s sake, and to make her get thin so her father would be pleased. Nobody cared for her!

Her young lonely soul raged fiercely within, going over and over the doleful situation, until she scarcely knew what she was doing, and suddenly a gentle hand touched her on the shoulder.

“Athalie, dear! You are crying! Is there anything I can do to help you?”

It was Silver in her white dress with her arms full of goldenrod, come softly up the stairs on the rubber-shod feet and finding Athalie still at the hall window.

Athalie turned in a fury of anger to be caught this way and shook off the gentle hand.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” she hissed. “I
hate
you!”

“Athalie!”

“Yes,
Athalie!”
mocked the angry girl. “You mealymouthed hypocrite! You liar! You thief! That’s it! You are a
thief!”

“Athalie, what has got into you?” asked Silver in dismay. “What on earth can you mean? What have I done to annoy you?”

Athalie had not been in such a fury since the night she spoiled the painting. She was simply blind with rage.

“Done! Done!” she screamed. “It isn’t enough that you stole my father away. Stole him! Stole him! You had no right to him! He gave you away, and you had your home, and you had people that loved you! You had a grandfather and grandmother. I never had any grandfather or grandmother or anybody. My mother never loved me!” Her tone was growing higher and more excited. The pent-up anguish of the weeks was breaking out in a flood. Silver lifted up a hand and tried to make her listen, but she rushed on in a torrent of words.

“She went away and left me to come here alone. She hasn’t written to me. She doesn’t love me. And I came here to find a father. I would have made him love me. Yes, I could, if you hadn’t poked your nose in and got ahead of me. You had no right. He had given you up. You thought just because you had that old Silver name—”

“Athalie!” said Silver compassionately, but Athalie was beyond hearing.

“Don’t speak to me.
I hate you!”
she raved on. “It wasn’t enough that you stole my father, and the house, and are trying to get the money and Mr. Bannard, but you have to steal my only friend!”

Her head went down on the window frame and she sobbed aloud.

“What do you mean, Athalie? I haven’t stolen any friend away from you!” said Silver in a puzzled indignant voice.

“Yes, you have. You’ve stolen Barry. He was nice to me. He brought me back when I was going to run away and get married!”

“Athalie!”

“Oh, you needn’t ‘Athalie’ me! I guess I could have done it if I wanted to, and now I wish I had. I would have got out of this old hole anyway. Isn’t Mr. Bannard enough for you? Why can’t you let Barry alone? You pretend to be so loving and all, calling me
dear
, and all that mush, and yet you spoil every nice time I try to have. It was you spoiled my house party! You can’t deny that! And you’re at the bottom of my having to wear frumpy old-fashioned clothes. If you hadn’t come here dressed like a mouse my father wouldn’t have known the difference. He just wants me to dress like you, and I won’t! So there! But I won’t stand your making eyes at everybody that likes me either. Look how you did when I had the house party! Carried all the boys off downstairs and flirted with them. Got every one of them crazy about you. Oh, but the girls were furious about that.”

Under the torrent of words that she could not stop, Silver suddenly collapsed into a chair and dropped her face into her hands.

“Oh, yes! That makes you ashamed, doesn’t it? You don’t like it put like that. Well, why can’t you marry somebody and get away? I’ve been waiting and waiting for you and Mr. Bannard to get things fixed up so you would get out of the house and let me have a real home for once in my life.”

Silver lifted a white face and listened sternly.

“Athalie! Stop! You mustn’t say such things. They are disgraceful. The neighbors will hear!”

“I don’t care if they do! I hope they will!”

“Athalie, if you will stop I will go away!”

“Well, go, go! Why don’t you go then? You don’t mean it at all, you know you don’t. You intend to stay right here and spoil my life. I’m here to try and get my father to marry my mother over again. She didn’t know it, but I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ve always wanted a home like other girls and a real father and mother! And then when I got here I found you! What good do you suppose it would do me to get my father to see my mother again while you were here? She wouldn’t come here with you! She would hate you, too, worse than I do. She would smile and do something terrible to you. That’s Lilla! But she would never come here with you here! Oh, I shall never have a real home nor anybody that loves me!” She suddenly broke away from the window with a wild sob and darted toward the door of her own room.

Silver turned, putting out her arms to try and stop her. “Athalie! Let me speak! I will go! I did not understand before.” But Athalie broke away fiercely.

“Well,
go
then!” she shouted and slammed her door so that it reverberated through the house like thunder.

Down in the kitchen Anne Truesdale and Molly stopped working and looked at one another anxiously.

“It’s Miss Athalie got one of her tantrums again!” said Molly in an awed whisper.

“Well, the master’s coming home early tonight, praise be!” said Anne, and tiptoed to the door to listen. But all was still upstairs.

Silver was in her room with the door shut, kneeling beside her bed.

Chapter 28

T
he tramp was not working that afternoon. He was recovering from a three-day vacation he had taken in the city following the weekly payday. He sat in the door a long time looking down toward the village and hating the world. He always took it out in hating the world when he was out of sorts. He had a settled conviction that the world owed him a living.

He looked as usual toward the Silver house with jealous eyes and began to calculate, as he had often done before, how many millions they must have and what he could do if he had only a small portion of their wealth. And as before he began to work at a plan that had for a long time been maturing in his brain. He had worked it out link by link till he had all the details perfect up to a certain point. There he always had to stop. He never could quite get beyond that missing link. He always thought if he could just think a little harder it would come to him, that missing link, but as yet it had not come.

And now he felt sick and sore from the three days’ debauch, and the fire was out, and there wasn’t a bit of food in his lair, neither was there wood to cook any food if he had any.

He stirred his stiffened limbs and got himself to his feet shivering from sheer revolt against life. He knew that the afternoon was waning and that he must go soon to get wood or there would be no way to get supper, and supper he must have if he was to go work in the morning. And to work he must go if he were to live longer, because his last cent was spent and bacon cost money. They were not trusting tramps for bacon and tea in Silver Sands.

So down the mountain he trudged, gathering wood slowly in little heaps by the way to be gathered up on his return trip. He must go trim that hedge of Truman’s, and that would bring him enough for sugar and butter and all that he needed that night. Then on his return he would gather up the wood and have a little comfort out of life. Strange that with such a life he could still gather comfort from it.

It was ten minutes to five when he returned with his sugar and bacon and cheese. He hadn’t cut the hedge very well, but Mrs. Truman had been having a missionary meeting and hadn’t come out to see. She had sent the money out to him before he had quite finished, and he lost no time in getting down to the store. His inner man required immediate refreshment.

So he sat down in a sheltered spot not far from the road to eat a snack to stay him before he should gather up his wood. And suddenly his slow jaws lagged and moved slower, and his little eyes peered cunningly between the bushes, and his ears pricked up and listened, for down the road in the distance he saw the missing link in the well-forged chain of his plans approaching, and with eager caution and much peering he stowed away his bundles under the leaves and moved down to a more convenient position nearer the road where he could watch and be ready for the right moment.

Silver had risen from her knees with a face in which sorrow and purpose were having their way. She went straight to her desk and drawing pen and paper toward her began to write rapidly:

Dear Athalie:

I have been praying ever since I came that you and I might learn to love one another and be real sisters. I have always wanted a sister. But I see that I was mistaken and that cannot be. So I am going away at once to show you that I really wanted to love you. I haven’t wanted to hurt you in any way, nor to steal Father or anybody or anything away from you. You said a good many things in your excitement that hurt me, but perhaps you won’t remember them when you get calmer. I want you to know that I forgive you and want you to be happy. As you say, I have had a happy home, and you haven’t. Besides I am the older and ought to go if one of us must, so it is all right. Only if I go, Athalie, please make Father happy. He is lonely, too. And I shall always pray that God will give you joy
.

Sincerely, Silver

She folded it and wrote “Athalie” across the back then drew more paper toward her and began again. This one was harder to write. It began:

Dear Father:

Something has happened since you went to the city this morning that has made me know that it is not right for me to stay with you any longer. Not now, anyway. You know how sorry I am about it, but I feel this is the only thing to do, so I am going to do it quickly before you return. That will be easier for us both. I have not time to tell you all it has meant to be with you, to know I have a father, and to be sure I have your love. I shall be rich in that knowledge always now wherever I am, but I feel that Athalie needs you more than I do and that you never can be everything to each other while I stay. You will see it this way, too, after a little and know that I did right. Perhaps someday it will be right for me to come back, and then I shall return with joy. Now I am going away, and I am not going to tell you where just yet, for I am not quite sure of my plans, but as soon as I am located I will send for my trunk, which I will leave packed and ready, and then perhaps you will write and tell me you forgive me for going away without seeing you. I just felt that I couldn’t quite bear the good-bye, precious Father! I love you. Don’t feel bad. Love Athalie
.