"i shall take you over, myself," said helen to her daughter as they rose from the breakfast table that first day of october. "and i shall show you carefully just how to come back this afternoon; but i'm afraid i shall have to let you come back alone, dear. in the first place, i shouldn't know when you were ready; and in the second place, i shouldn't want to go and wait for you."
"of course not!" cried betty. "as if i'd let you—and you don't even have to go with me. i can find out by asking."
"no, i shall go with you." betty noticed that her mother's cheeks were very pink and her eyes very bright. "don't forget the doctor's letter; and remember, dear, just be—be your own dear sweet self."
"why, mother, you're—crying!" exclaimed the dismayed betty.
"crying? not a bit of it!" the head came proudly erect.
"but does it mean so much to you that i—that i—that he—likes me?" asked betty softly.
the next moment, alarmed and amazed, she found her mother's convulsive arms about her, her mother's trembling voice in her ears.
"it'll mean all the world to me, betty—oh, betty, my baby!"[pg 303]
"why, mother!" exclaimed the girl, aghast and shaken.
but already her mother had drawn herself up, and was laughing through her tears.
"dear, dear, but only look at the fuss this old mother-bird is making at the first flight of her young one!" she chattered gayly. "come, no more of this! we'll be late. we'll get ready right away. you say you have the letter from the doctor. don't forget that."
"no, i won't. i have it all safe," tossed the girl over her shoulder, as she hurried away for her hat and coat. a minute later she came back to find her mother shrouding herself in the black veil. "oh, mother, dear, please! you aren't going to wear that horrid veil to-day, are you?" she remonstrated.
"why, yes, dear. why not?"
"i don't like it a bit. and it's so thick! i can't see a bit of you through it."
"can't you? good!" (vaguely betty wondered at the almost gleeful tone of the voice.) "then nobody can see my eyes—and know that i've been crying."
"ho! they wouldn't, anyway," frowned betty. "your eyes aren't red at all, mother."
but the mother only laughed again gleefully—and fastened the veil with still another pin. a minute later mother and daughter left the house together.
it was not a long ride to the foot of the street that led up the hill to burke denby's home. with carefully minute directions as to the return home at night,[pg 304] helen left her daughter halfway up the hill, with the huge wrought-iron gates of the denby driveway just before her.
"and now remember everything—everything, dear," she faltered, clinging a little convulsively to her daughter's arm. "dear, dear, but i'm not sure i ought to let you go—after all," she choked.
"nonsense, mumsey! of course you ought to let me go!"
"then you must remember to tell me everything—when you come home to-night—everything. i shall want to know every single little thing that's happened!"
"i will, dear, i will. and don't worry. i'm sure i'm going to do all right," comforted the girl, plainly trying to quiet the anxious fear in her mother's voice. "and what a beautiful old place it is!" she went on, her admiring eyes sweeping the handsome house and spacious grounds beyond the gates. "i shall love it there, i know. and i'm so glad the doctor got it for me. now, don't worry!" she finished with a gay wave of her hand as she turned and sped up the hill.
the mother, with a last lingering look and a sob fortunately smothered in the enshrouding veil, turned and hurried away in the opposite direction.
many times before betty's return late that afternoon, helen wondered that a day, just one little day, could be so long. it seemed to her that each minute was an hour, and each hour a day, so slowly did the clock tick the time away. she tried to work, to sew, to[pg 305] read. but there seemed really nothing that she wanted to do except to stand at one of the windows, her eyes on the massive, white-pillared old house set in its wide sweep of green on the opposite hill.
what was happening over there? was there a possible chance that burke would question, suspect, discover—anything? how would he like—betty? how would betty like him? how would betty do, anyway, in such a position? it was betty's first experience in—in working for any one; and betty—sweet and dear and loving as she was—had something of the denby will and temper, as her mother had long since discovered. betty was fearless and high-spirited. if she did not like—but what was happening over there?
and what would the outcome be? after all, perhaps, as the doctor had said, it was something of a comic opera and farce all in one—this thing she was doing. very likely the whole thing, from the first, when she ran away years ago, had been absurd and preposterous, just as the doctor had said. and very likely burke himself, when he found out, would think so, too. it was a fearsome thing—to take matters in her own hands as she had done, and attempt to twist the thread in fate's hands, and wrest it away from what she feared was destruction—as if her own puny fingers could deal with destiny!
and might it not be, after all, that she had been chasing a will-o'-the-wisp of fancied "culture" all these years? true, she no longer said "swell" and[pg 306] "grand," and she knew how to eat her soup quietly; but was that going to make burke—love her? she realized now something of what it was that she had undertaken when she fled to the doctor years ago. she realized, too, that during these intervening years there had come to her a very real sense of what love, marriage, and a happy home ought to mean—and what they must mean if she were ever to be happy with burke, or to make him happy.
but what was taking place—over there?
at ten minutes before five betty reached home. her mother met her halfway down the stairs.
"oh, betty, you—you are here!" she panted. "now, tell me everything—every single thing," she reiterated, almost dragging the girl into the apartment, in her haste and excitement. "don't skip anything—not the least little thing; for a little thing might mean so much—to me."
"why, mother!" exclaimed betty, her laughing eyes growing vaguely troubled. "do you really care so much?"
with a sudden tightening of the throat helen pulled herself up sharply. she gave a light laugh.
"care? of course i care! don't you suppose i want to know what my baby has been doing all the long day away from me? now, tell me. sit right down and tell me from the beginning."
"all right, i will," smiled betty. to herself she said: "poor mother! as if i wouldn't work my fingers off before i'd fail her, when she cares so much—when[pg 307] she needs so much—what i earn!" then, aloud, cheerily, she began:—
"well, first, i walked up that long, long walk through that beautiful lawn to the house; but for a minute i didn't ring the bell. it was so beautiful—the view from that veranda, with the sun on the reds and browns and yellows of the trees everywhere! then i remembered suddenly that i hadn't come to make a call and admire the view, but that i was a business woman now. so i rang the bell. there was a lovely old brass knocker on the great door; but i saw a very conspicuous push-button, and i concluded that was for real use."
"yes, yes. and were you—frightened, dear?"
"well, 'nervous,' we'll call it. then, as i was planning just what to say, the door opened and the oldest little old man i ever saw stood before me."
"yes, go on!"
"he was the butler, i found out afterwards. they called him benton. he seemed surprised, somehow, to see me, or frightened, or something. anyway, he started queerly, as his eyes met mine, and he muttered a quick something under his breath; but all i could hear was the last, 'no, no, it couldn't be!'"
"yes—yes!" breathed helen, her face a little white.
"the next minute he became so stiff and straight and dignified that even his english cousin might have envied him. i told him i was miss darling, and that i had a note to mr. denby from dr. gleason.[pg 308]
"'yes, miss. the master is expecting you. he said to show you right in. this way, please,' he said then, pompously. and then i saw that great hall. oh, mother, if you could see it! it's wonderful, and so full of treasures! i could hardly take off my hat and coat properly, for devouring a superb specimen of old armor right in front of me. then benton took me into the library, and i saw—something even more wonderful."
"you mean your—er—mr. denby?" the mother's face was aglow.
betty gave a merry laugh.
"indeed, i don't! oh, he was there, but he was no wonder, mother, dear. the wonder was cabinet after cabinet filled with jades and bronzes and carved ivories and babylonian tablets and— but i couldn't begin to tell you! i couldn't even begin to see for myself, for, of course, i had to say something to mr. denby."
"of course! and tell me—what was he—he like?"
"oh, he was just a man, tall and stern-looking, and a little gray. he's old, you know. he isn't young at all"—spoken with all the serene confidence of betty's eighteen years. "he has nice eyes, and i imagine he'd be nice, if he'd let himself be. but he won't."
"why, betty, what—what do you mean?"
betty laughed and shrugged her shoulders.
"oh, mother, dear, you'd have to see him really[pg 309] to know. it's just that—that he's so used to having his own way that he takes it as a matter of course, as his right."
"oh, my dear!"
"but he does. it shows up in everything that everybody in that house does. i could see that, even in this one day i was there. benton, sarah (the maid), mrs. gowing (the old cousin housekeeper)—even the dog and the cat show that they've stood at attention for master burke denby all their lives. you just wait till i get my chance. i'll show him somebody that isn't standing at salute all the time."
"betty!" there was real horror in the woman's voice this time.
again betty's merry laugh rang out.
"don't look so shocked, dearie. i shan't do anything or say anything to imperil my—my job." (betty's eyes twinkled even more merrily over the last word.) "it's just that i don't think any living man has a right to make everybody so afraid of him as mr. denby very plainly has done. and i only mean that if the occasion ever came up, i should let him know that i am not afraid of him."
"oh, betty, betty, be careful, be careful. i beg of you, be careful!"
"oh, i will. don't worry," laughed the girl. "but, listen, don't you want me to go on with my story?"
"yes—oh, yes!"
"well, where was i? oh, i know—just inside the library door. very good, then. ruthlessly suppressing[pg 310] my almost overwhelming longing to pounce on one of those alluring cabinets, i advanced properly and held out my note to mr. denby. as i came near i fancied that he, too, gave a slight start as he looked sharply into my face; and i thought i caught a real gleam of life in his eyes. the next instant it was gone, however (if indeed it had ever been there!), and he had taken my note and waved me politely to a chair."
"yes, go on, go on!"
"yes; well, do you know?—that's exactly what i felt like saying to him," laughed betty softly. "he just glanced at the note with a low ejaculation; then he sat there staring at nothing for so long that i began to think i should scream from sheer nervousness. then, perhaps i stirred a little. at all events, he turned with a start, and then is when i saw, for just a minute, how kind his eyes could be.
"'there, there, my child, i beg your pardon,' he cried. 'i quite forgot you were here. something—your eyes, i think—set me to dreaming. now to business! perhaps you'll be good enough to take some letters for me. you'll find pencils, pen, and paper there at your right.' and i did. and i began. and that's all."
"all! but surely there was more!"
"not much. i took dictation in long hand for perhaps a dozen letters—most of them short ones. he said he was behind on his personal correspondence. then he went away and left me. he goes down to his office at the denby iron works every forenoon,[pg 311] i understand. anyway, there i was, left in that fascinating room with all those cabinets full of treasures that i so longed to explore, but tied to a lot of scrawly notes and a typewriter. i forgot to say there was one of those disappearing typewriters in a desk over by the window. it wasn't quite like gladys's, but the keyboard was, and i very soon got the run of it.
"at one o'clock he came back. i had the letters all done, and they looked lovely. i was rather proud of them. i passed them over for him to sign, and waited expectantly for a nice little word of commendation—which i didn't get."
"oh, but i'm sure he didn't—didn't realize that—that—"
"oh, no, he didn't realize, of course, that this was my maiden effort at private secretarying," laughed betty, a little ruefully, "and that i wanted to be patted on the head with a 'well done, little girl!' he just shoved them back for me to fold and put in the envelopes; and just then benton came to announce luncheon."
"but tell me about the luncheon."
"there isn't much to tell. there were just us three at the table, mr. denby, mrs. gowing, and myself. there was plenty to eat, and it was very nice. but, dear, dear, the dreariness of it! with the soup mrs. gowing observed that it was a nice day. with the chicken patties she asked if i liked dalton; and with the salad she remarked that we had had an unusually cold summer. dessert was eaten in utter[pg 312] silence. why, mother, i should die if i had to spend my life in an atmosphere like that!"
"but didn't mr. denby say—anything?"
"oh, yes. he asked me for the salt, and he gave an order to benton. oh, he's such fascinating company—he is!"
at the disturbed expression on her mother's face, betty gave a playful shrug. "oh, i know, he's my respected employer, and all that," she laughed; "and i shall be very careful to do his bidding. never fear! but that doesn't mean that i've got to love him."
helen denby flushed a painful red.
"but i wanted—i hoped you would—er—l-like him, my dear," she faltered.
"maybe i shall—when i get him—er—trained," retorted betty, flashing a merry glance into her mother's dismayed eyes. "don't worry, dear. i was a perfect angel to him to-day. truly i was. listen! after luncheon mr. denby brought me three or four newspapers which he had marked here and there; and for an hour then i read to him. and what do you think?—when i had finished he said, in that crisp short way of his: 'you have a good voice, miss darling. i hope you won't mind if i ask you to read to me often.' and of course i smiled and said no, indeed, i should be glad to read as often as he liked."
"of course!" beamed the mother, with so decided an emphasis that betty exclaimed warningly:—
"tut, tut, now! don't you go to tumbling down and worshiping him like all the rest."[pg 313]
"w-worshiping him!" helen denby's cheeks were scarlet.
"yes," nodded betty, with tranquil superiority. "it isn't good for him, i tell you. he doesn't get anything but worship from every single one of those people around him. honestly, if he should declare that the earth was flat, i think that ridiculous old butler and that scared cousin housekeeper would bow: 'just as you say, sir, just as you say.' humph! he'd better tell me the world is flat, some day."
"oh, betty! betty!" implored betty's mother.
but betty only went on with a merry toss of her head:—
"well, after the reading there were other letters, then some work on a card-index record of his correspondence. after that i came home. but, mother, oh, mother, only think what it'll be when we begin to catalogue all those treasures in his cabinets. and we're going to do it. he said we were. it seems as if i just couldn't wait!"
"but you will be careful what you say to him, dear," begged the mother again, anxiously. "he wouldn't understand your mischief, dear, and i—i'm sure he wouldn't like it."
betty stooped to give a playful kiss.
"careful? why, mumsey, dear, when we get at those cabinets he may tell me a dozen times the earth is flat, if he wants to, and i won't so much as blink—if i think there's any danger of my getting cheated out of that cataloguing!"[pg 314]
