they had not long to wait. they heard the elevator door slide softly open, and then the gentle swish of silken skirts. luella looked around just in time to be recognized by young mr. grandon if he had not at that moment been placing a long white broadcloth coat about his mother’s shoulders. there were four in the party, and luella’s heart sank. he would not be likely to ask another one. the young man and the gray-silk, thread-lace woman from the other dining-table were going with them, it appeared. young mr. grandon helped the gray-silk lady down the steps while the handsome stranger walked by mrs. grandon. they did not look around at the people on the piazza at all. luella bit her lips in vexation.
“for pity’s sake, luella, don’t scowl so,” whispered her mother; “they might look up yet and see you.”
this warning came just in time; for young mr. grandon just as he was about to start the car glanced up, and, catching luella’s fixed gaze, gave[80] her a distant bow, which was followed by a courteous lifting of the stranger’s hat.
aunt crete was seated beside mrs. grandon in the back seat and beaming her joy quietly. she was secretly exulting that luella and carrie had not been in evidence yet. she felt that her joy was being lengthened by a few minutes more, for she could not get away from the fear that her sister and niece would spoil it all as soon as they appeared upon the scene.
“i thought aunt carrie and luella would be tired after their all-day trip, and we wouldn’t disturb them to-night,” said donald in a low tone, looking back to aunt crete as the car glided smoothly out from the shelter of the wide piazza.
aunt crete smiled happily back to donald, and raised her eyes with a relieved glance toward the rows of people on the piazza. she had been afraid to look her fill before lest she should see luella frowning at her somewhere; but evidently they had not got back yet, or perhaps had not finished their dinner.
as aunt crete raised her eyes, luella and her mother looked down into her upturned face enviously, but aunt crete’s gaze had but just grazed them and fallen upon an old lady of stately mien[81] with white, fluffy hair like her own, and a white crêpe de chine gown trimmed with much white lace. in deep satisfaction aunt crete reflected that, if luella had aught to say against her aunt’s wearing modest white morning-gowns, she would cite this model, who was evidently an old aristocrat if one might judge by her jewels and her general make-up.
“somewhere i’ve seen that woman with the gray silk!” exclaimed luella’s mother suddenly as aunt crete swept by. “there’s something real familiar about the set of her shoulders. look at the way she raises her hand to her face. my land! i believe she reminds me of your aunt crete!”
“now, mother!” scorned luella. “as if aunt crete could ever look like that! you must be crazy to see anything in such an elegant lady to remind you of poor old aunt crete. why, ma, this woman is the real thing! just see how her hair’s put up. nobody but a french maid could get it like that. imagine aunt crete with a french maid. o, i’d die laughing. she’s probably washing our country cousin’s supper dishes at this very minute. i wonder if her conscience doesn’t hurt her about my lavender organdie. say,[82] ma, did you notice how graceful that handsome stranger was when he handed the ladies into the car? my, but i’d like to know him. i think clarence grandon is just a stuck-up prig.”
her mother looked at her sharply.
“luella, seems to me you change your mind a good deal. if i don’t make any mistake, you came down here so’s to be near him. what’s made you change your mind? he doesn’t seem to go with any other girls.”
“no, he just sticks by his mother every living minute,” sighed luella unhappily. “i do wish i had that lavender organdie. i look better in that than anything else i’ve got. i declare i think aunt crete is real mean and selfish not to send it. i’m going in to see if the mail has come; and, if the organdie isn’t here, nor any word from aunt crete, i’m going to call her up on the telephone again.”
luella vanished into the hotel office, and her mother sat and rocked with puckered brows. she very much desired a place in high society for luella, but how to attain it was the problem. she had not been born for social climbing, and took hardly to it.
meantime the motor-car rolled smoothly over[83] the perfect roads, keeping always that wonderful gleaming sea in sight; and aunt crete, serenely happy, beamed and nodded to the pleasant chat of mrs. grandon, and was so overpowered by her surroundings that she forgot to be overpowered by the grand mrs. grandon. as in a dream she heard the kindly tone, and responded mechanically to the questions about her journey and the weather in the city, and how lovely the sea was to-night; but, as she spoke the few words with her lips, her soul was singing, and the words of its song were these:
“must i be carried to the skies
on flowery beds of ease,
while others fought to win the prize
and sailed through bloody seas?”
and it seemed to her as they glided along the palace-lined shore, with the rolling sea on one hand, and the beautiful people in their beautiful raiment at ease and happy on the other hand, that she was picked right up out of the hot little brick house in the narrow street, and put on a wonderfully flowery bed of ease, and was floating right into a heaven of which her precious donald was a bright, particular angel. she forgot all about luella and what she might say, and just enjoyed herself.
[84]
she even found herself telling the elegant mrs. grandon exactly how she made piccalilli, and her heart warmed to the other woman as she saw that she was really interested. she had never supposed, from the way in which luella spoke of the grandons, that they would even deign to eat such a common thing as a pickle, let alone knowing anything about it. aunt crete’s decision was that mrs. grandon wasn’t stuck up in the least, but just a nice, common lady like any one; and, as she went up in the elevator beside her, and said good-night, she felt as if she had known her all her life.
it was not until she had turned out her light and crept into the great hotel bed that it came to her to wonder whether luella and carrie could be meant by the ones in the hymn,
“while others fought to win the prize
and sailed through bloody seas.”
she couldn’t help feeling that perhaps she had been selfish in enjoying her day so much when for aught she knew luella might not be having a good time. for luella not to have a good time meant blame for her aunt generally. ever since luella had been born it had been borne in upon aunt crete that there was a moral obligation upon her to make luella have a good time. and now aunt[85] crete was having a good time, the time of her life; and she hugged herself, she was so happy over it, and thought of the dear stars out there in the deep, dark blue of the arching sky, and the cool, dark roll of the white-tipped waves, and was thankful.
luella and her mother had gloomily watched the dancing through the open windows of the ballroom; but, as they knew no one inside, they did not venture in. luella kept one eye out for the return of the car, but somehow missed it, and finally retired to the solace of cold-cream and the comforts of the fourth floor back, where lingered in the atmosphere a reminder of the dinner past and a hint of the breakfast that was to come.
as the elevator ascended past the second floor, the door of one of the special apartments stood wide, revealing a glimpse of the handsome young stranger standing under the chandelier reading a letter, his face alive with pleasure. luella sighed enviously, and in her dreams strove vainly to enter into the charmed circle where these favored beings moved, and knew not that of her own free will she had closed the door to that very special apartment, which might have been hers but for her own action.
the next morning luella was twisting her neck[86] in a vain endeavor to set the string of artificial puffs straight upon the enormous cushion of her hair, till they looked for all the world like a pan of rolls just out of the oven. she had jerked them off four separate times, and pulled the rest of her hair down twice in a vain attempt to get just the desired effect; and her patience, never very great at any time, was well-nigh exhausted. her mother was fretting because the best pieces of fish and all the hot rolls would be gone before they got down to breakfast, and luella was snapping back in most undaughterly fashion, when a noticeable tap came on the door. it was not the tap of the chambermaid of the fourth floor back, nor of the elevator boy, who knew how to modulate his knock for every grade of room from the second story, ocean front, up and back. it was a knock of rare condescension, mingled with a call to attention; and it warned these favored occupants of room 410 to sit up and take notice, not that they were worthy of any such consideration as was about to fall upon them.
luella drove the last hairpin into the puffs, and sprang to the door just as her mother opened it. she felt something was about to happen. could it[87] be that she was to be invited to ride in that automobile at last, or what?
there in the hall, looking very much out of place, and as if he hoped his condescension would be appreciated, but he doubted it, stood the uniformed functionary that usually confined his activities to the second floor front, where the tips were large and the guests of unquestioned wealth, to say nothing of culture. he held in his hand a shining silver tray on which lay two cards, and he delivered his message in a tone that not only showed the deference he felt for the one who had sent him, but compelled such deference also on the part of those to whom he spoke.
“de lady and gen’leman says, will de ladies come down to the private pahlah as soon aftah breakfus’ as is convenient, room number 2, second flo’ front?” he bowed to signify that his mission was completed, and that if it did not carry through, it was entirely beyond his sphere to do more.
luella grasped the cards and smothered an exclamation of delight. “second floor, front,” gasped her mother. “the private parlor! did you hear, luella?”
but luella was standing by the one window,[88] frowning over the cards. one was written and one engraved, a lady’s and a gentleman’s cards. “miss ward.” “mr. donald ward grant.”
“for the land’s sake, ma! who in life are they? do you know any miss ward? you don’t s’pose it’s that lovely gray-silk woman. miss ward. donald ward grant. who can they be, and what do you suppose they want? grant. donald grant. where have i, why—! o, horrors, ma! it can’t be that dreadful cousin has followed us up, can it? donald grant is his name, of course; yes, donald ward grant. it was the ward that threw me off. but who is the other? miss ward. ma! you don’t——!”
“luella burton, that’s just what it is! it’s your aunt crete and that dreadful cousin. crete never did have any sense, if she is my sister. but just let me get speech of her! if i don’t make her writhe. i think i’ll find a way to make her understand——”
luella’s expansive bravery beneath the row of biscuit puffs seemed to shrink and cringe as she took in the thought.
“o ma!” she groaned. “how could she? and here of all places! to come here and mortify me! it is just too dreadful. ma, it can’t be true. aunt[89] crete would never dare. and where would she get the money? she hasn’t a cent of her own, has she? you didn’t go and leave her money, did you?”
“no, only a little change in my old pocketbook; it wouldn’t have been enough to come down here on, unless she bought a day excursion. wait. i did leave five dollars to pay the grocer bill with. but crete surely wouldn’t take that. still, there’s no telling. she always was a kind of a child. o, dear! what shall we do?” the mother sat down on the tumbled bed beside the tray of luella’s cheap trunk.
“well, we must do something, that’s certain, if we have to run away again. it would never do to have those two appear here now. mercy! think of aunt crete in her old black and white silk sitting next table to that lovely lady in gray. i should simply sink through the floor.”
“we can’t run away, luella,” snapped the practical mother. “we’ve paid for our room two weeks ahead. i didn’t want to do that; but you thought if aunt crete should get any nonsense into her head about our coming home, we could tell we’d paid for the room, and that would settle it with her. so now it’s done, and we can’t afford not to[90] abide by it. besides, what good would that do? we couldn’t afford to go anywhere but home, and that would be as bad as it was in the first place. we’ve got to think it out. if i just had hold of crete a minute, i’d make her fix it up. she’d have to think some way out of it herself without any of my help, to pay her for her stupidity in coming. i can’t understand how she’d do it.”
“i didn’t think she’d dare!” glared luella with no pleasant expression on her face.
“i’ll tell you what we’ll have to do, luella,” said her mother. “we’ll slip down those stairs in the back hall. i went down one day, and they go right out on the piazza that runs in front of the dining-room. we’ll just slip in the back door, and get our breakfast right away. it’s getting pretty late. you better hurry. they’ve likely come up from town on that very early train, and they’ll sit and wait for us. we’ll ring for a messenger bell-boy, and send down a note that my ankle is so much worse i can’t come down-stairs, and you can’t leave me. we’ll say: ‘mrs. burton and miss burton regret that they cannot come down as requested; but mrs. burton is confined to her bed by a sprained ankle, and her daughter cannot leave her. miss ward will have to come up.’ you[91] write it on one of your visiting-cards, luella, and we’ll send it down as quick as we get back from breakfast. hurry up. the only thing about it will be that climb up three flights after breakfast, but it won’t do for us to risk the elevator. crete might recognize us, for the elevator goes right by that second-floor front parlor. what i don’t understand is how they got in there. it’s only rich people can afford that. but, land! crete’s just like a baby; hasn’t been out in the world ever; and very likely she never asked how much the rooms were, but just took the best she could lay eyes on. or more likely it’s a mistake, and she’s sitting in that little reception-room down on the office floor, and thinks it the second floor because she came up such a long flight of steps from the sidewalk. we’ll have to tell the bell-boy to hunt up the fellow that brought up their cards, and take it to the same folks. come on now, luella, and go slow when you turn corners. there’s no telling but they might be prowling round trying to hunt us; so keep a lookout.”
thus by devious and back ways they descended to a late breakfast, and scuttled up again without being molested.
luella wrote the note on her card as her mother[92] dictated, and a small boy all brass buttons was despatched with careful directions; and then the two retired behind their ramparts, and waited.
time went by, until half an hour had elapsed since they came back from breakfast. they had listened anxiously to every footfall in the hall, and part of the time luella kept the door open a crack with her ear to it. their nerves were all in a quiver. when the chambermaid arrived, they were fairly feverish to get her out of the way. if aunt crete should come while she was in the room, it might get all over the hotel what kind of relatives they had.
mrs. burton suggested to the chambermaid that she leave their room till last, as they wanted to write some letters before going out; but the maid declared she must do the room at once or not at all. the elevator slid up and down around the corner in the next hall. they heard a footfall now and then, but none that sounded like aunt crete’s. they rang again for the office-boy, who declared he had delivered the message in the second floor, front, and that the lady and gentleman were both in and said, “all right.” he vanished impudently without waiting for luella’s[93] probing questions, and they looked at each other in anxiety and indignation.
“it is too mean, ma, to lose this whole morning. i wanted to go in bathing,” complained luella, “and now no telling how long i’ll have to stick in this dull room. i wish aunt crete was in halifax. why couldn’t i have had some nice relatives like that lovely old gray-silk lady and her son?”
just then the elevator clanged open and shut, and steps came down the hall. it certainly was not aunt crete. luella flew to the door at the first tap; and there, submerged in a sheaf of american beauty roses, stood the functionary from the lower floor, with a less pompous manner than he had worn before. the roses had caused his respect for the occupants of the fourth floor, back, to rise several degrees.
luella stood speechless in wonder, looking first at the roses and then at the servant. such roses had never come into her life before. could it be—must it be—but a miserable mistake?
then the servant spoke.
“miss ward sends de flowers, an’ is sorry de ladies ain’t well. she send her regrets, an’ says she can’t come to see de ladies ’count of a drive she’d promised to take to-day, in which she’d[94] hoped to have de ladies’ comp’ny. she hopes de ladies be better dis even’n’.”
he was gone, and the mother and daughter faced each other over the roses, bewilderment and awe in their faces.
“what did he say, luella? who sent those roses? miss ward? luella, there’s some mistake. aunt crete couldn’t have sent them. she wouldn’t dare! besides, where would she get the money? it’s perfectly impossible. it can’t be aunt crete, after all. it must be some one else with the same name. perhaps donald has picked up some one here in the hotel; you can’t tell; or perhaps it isn’t our donald at all. it’s likely there’s other donald grants in the world. what we ought to have done was to go down at once and find out, and not skulk in a corner. but you’re always in such a hurry to do something, luella. there’s no telling at all who this is now. it might be those folks you admired so much, though what on earth they should have sent their cards to us for—and those lovely roses—i’m sure i don’t know.”
“now, ma, you needn’t blame me. it was you proposed sending that note down; you know it was, mother; and of course i had to do what you[95] said. i was so upset, anyway, i didn’t know what was what. but now, you see, perhaps you’ve cut me out of a lovely day. we might have gone on a ride with them.”
“luella,” her mother broke in sharply, “if you talk another word like that, i’ll take the next train back home. you don’t know what you are talking about. it may be aunt crete, after all, and a country cousin for all you know; and, if it is, would you have wanted to go driving in the face of the whole hotel, with like as not some old shin-and-bones horse and a broken-down carriage?”
luella was silenced for the time, and the room settled into gloomy meditation.
