HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1937-12-23, Page 17WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES PAGE NINE
ren who work in the mills can leave
their offspring in safety while they
work. Mrs, Barwell, the nursery
»lady, has a sick husband and she can’t
keep the children-any more, There is
an empty house not far. from Mrs.
Barwell, Dad would give it to us rent
free. We could furnish it with cast
offs out of our own attics and we
could hire a matron, and we girls can
’ -arrange to have one day each week
at the nursery, helping out. There
- are Sixteen of us. That would, mean
’ • that there’d be two each ' day, and
with a matron to supervise diets and
all that, we could help, to keep the
children amused. What 'do you girls
think?"
Margaret said instantly, "I think
it’s a swell idea! The Junior League
in Atlanta does it and if they don’t
mind, why’should we? I vote for it
heavily. I’ll take the first day!’’ Be
fore luncheon was over the sixteen
had enrolled’ themselves and were
planning so busily that the bridge
tables were neglected and the packs
of cards unsealed when the party was
over^ 'It had been arranged that,
while the house was being made
ready, the girls were to divide them
selves in groups of two and they
were to canvass the village, getting
lists of the cherished wishes of every
Chloe drew a hard, short breath.
• She hated the thought that Scott
might ignore Callie because he fanc
ied himself in love with Cliloe. But
there really wasn't.anything she could
do about it she told herself as she
went downstairs to dinner.
CHAPTER XVII
There 'was a telephone cal! for
Chloe the next morning shortly after
breakfast. ,“Is that you, Miss, Chloe? This is
Jennie Barwell," said' the flustered
voice on, the other -end of the wire. .
“I got bad news for you this morn- , ,
ing. Bad news for me, too, of course.
My old man’s real sick and I’m gonna
have my hands full taking care o’-
him and I’m gonna have to fall down
what I promised to ;do for the
Iftristmas party,”
‘ ; "Oh, Mrs. ^Barwell, I’m terribly
sorry — about your husband,” said
Clhloe quickly. "And don’t you worry
about the Christmas plans. We’ll
manage, though we’re going to miss
you badly. You’re a peach, anyway,
and we all owe you a lot for what
you’ve done,” added Chloe warmly.-
"You ain’t no call to say things
’ like that, Miss Chloe. I like young
uns about and I’ve enjoyed lookin’
after ’em, but now—•" Mrs. Barwell
sighed.
“You run along and look after your
husband, Mrs. Barwell, and don’t you
worry .about ’the babies. I’ll think of
something!” Chloe promised rashly:-
She hung up the receiver and sat
staring straight ahead of her for a
long while, little appalled at what she
had so recklessly promised. Jane
came down the stairs and said eager
ly: “Now, Chloe, before you rush off
to the village, I was to remind you
- that’ Margaret Graham is having a
bridge luncheon today for Ellen Ste
phens and you promised to go. You
mustn’t disappoint Margaret.?,
“No I won’t, darling. Of course
not,” Chloe .promised and went uy
stairs, still mulling over the problem
of what was to be done about Mrs.
Barwell’s unofficial but very import
ant day nursery, as well as the plans
. for the Christmas gifts for the child
ren.She reached Margaret’s home am
ong the last of the sixteen guests.
She looked about the table as she set
tled herself and noted the girls. ’ All
somewhere near her own age. Dau
ghters of parents sufficiently prosper
ous for the girls to* need no aim in
life beyond marriage and a home. Not
one of I hem had any thought of a
career, save Rosalie Hastings, who
had had a year at dramatic school in
New York and'was home now for the
Christmas holidays before returning
to school.On a sudden impulse Chloe leaned
forward and spoke to Rosalie.
“Rosalie, now that you’re home for
Christmas, how’s for coming down to
Jfcth.e village and staging, a few tableaux
me?” suggested Chloe.
Rosalie looked a trifle startled bu.t
after a moment she said, “I’d love to,
Chloe, although I don’t know how
good I’ll be at staging things!"
’“You couldn’t possibly find more
willing workers, Rosalie, or a more
receptive audience," Chloe pointed
out. “We’re having a tree with pre
sents for all the , children, but we
wanted to stage a‘few tableaux. You
know, The Three Wise Men, and
Christmas in the Manger and things
like that, using the older children.
We’ve struck a very bad snag so far.
because nobody has had any. stage
training. You could be a wale of a
lot of help if you don’t mind giving noon. If she did not stop today, up some of your holiday!" • wouldn’t that make him feel, that she
Rosalie's petal-pale face colored a -.......5 e,’° oHrhorl ion
little with interest and she said eag
erly.; “I’dr love' it, Chloe. Tomorrow,
to get a start?”
“So this is what you’ve been up to
and why you Jiave snubbed all our
parties, it ’is?” demanded Margaret.
“When we thought you were griev
ing about/ that grand beau of yours.
AVhat’s it all abotitT'anyway?” '
' Chloe's eyes swept around the
table. At all the pretty, delicate, use
less creatures who faced her. Girls
who, she knew from her own exper
ience, found it hard to occupy their
time and their minds, now that school
days were over and they were debu
tantes and there was nothing before
them but parties.
She leaned forward suddenly, her
hands clasped on the table and said,
little spots of color in her cheeks:
“Look here, we’re all bored stiff
because we haven’t enough to do and
too much time to do it in. How’d
you like to have something to keep
j you occupied mentally and physically?
1 Oh, I’m saying it very badly, but
there’s a woman in the village who's
been running a sort of unofficial day
j^nursery where mothers of small child-
table in front of herThe largest turkey Chloe had ever seen graced the
father.
child‘so that the Christmas tree .could
bear gifts that would •'answer each
heart’s desire.Chloe drove straight to the mill,
found her father in his office and
broached the subject of the day nurs
ery. Just as she expected, .he gave
the house freely and, bcfor she left
his office, he had ordered carpenters
and painters to go to work that same
afternoon putting the place in order.
So Chloe had good cause to be
pleased with the report she had to
take to Scott when she stopped at
the hospital on her way liome. She
had hesitated about that. She was a
little uncomfortable at the thought of
facing him again with the memory
of that brief but disturbing scene be
tween them. But she had developed
the habit of stopping every after-
If she did not stop today,
was afraid? Or that she attched too
much emphasis to his unexpected out
burst? Or even that she was angry?
It was the thought that he might be
lieve her angry that finally made her
stop her little roadster in front of the
hospital and go in, her head held
high.The nurse smiled at her as she
cante along the corridor and said
cheerfully, “You can go right in, Miss
Sargent. Dr., Kelvin is expecting you.
Scott turned his head as Chloe en
tered dnd smiled at her faintly.
"I heard what the nurse said, that
I was expecting you,” he said frank
ly. “She was wrong. I wasn’t expect
ing you. I was afraid to expect you
after what I said last night.”
“But “of. course I understand, Dr.
Kelvin. You — you mustn't think I
took you seriously,” said Chloe.
Scott studied her gravely for a mo
ment/ His eyes taking her in from,
the top of the gay, silly little hat to
the tips of the smart, sensible brown
brogues, „“But I meant you to take me seri
ously,” said Scott quietly. "For I was
never more serious about about any
thing in my life. But you mustn’t let
it trouble you, I wouldn’t, for any
thing in the world, do the slightest
thing that would worry you. I love
you — yes. But no one could possib
ly realize mors' clearly than I how
utterly hopeless it all is. Even if it
were not for Jim Pearsall, we could
never be anything to each Other.”
“We can be friends!” Chloe point
ed out' swiftly, her voice not too
steady.
"Friends least of. all," said Spott
harshly, "It isn’t possible for a man
to be friends with a woman who ex
presses everything that is lovely and
desirable, who means to him all that
is glorious tofhim, No, we can never
be friends, Not you and I, Chloe.
Wejll never mention again that I have
been fool enough to not only look at
a. Little Princess, but to fall in love
with her. I’ll even dance at your
wedding to Pearsall, if you'll ask me
to.”• "Thank you,” said Chloe and add
ed, as the nurse came in with his sup
per tray: “And now think I’d bet
ter be going. I probably won’t see
you tomorrow, but I will be‘in on
Thursday. Good night!”
“Good night,” said Scott, and she
looked back from the doorway to find
his eyes clinging to her with an al
most frantic intensity that disturbed
ther as she drove home.
CHAPTER XVIII
“Is that you, Chloe? Come here,
I’ve a surprise for you.” Jane called
to Chloe as she entered the hall.
Chloe went into the long living
room and there, to her amazement,
sat Mcllissa. In a black satin dress
with a soft, creamy lace fichu about
her withered old throat and her small
feet in black satin slippers on a low
hassock. Melissa looked enthroned,
calmly and contentedly surveying the
world about her and finding it,good.
“Why, Gran—how nice to see you!”
cried Chloe. . ’
She bent and kissed the old lady’s
cheek and Melissa sniffed daintily.
“Is it?” she demanded with frank
- suspicion. “A pity, then, you don’t
give yourself the pleasure of seeing
me more often and not allowing me
to learn of your engagement through
the newspaper—and a weekly news
paper at that!”
Chloe said swiftly, contritely, “Oh,
Gran, I’ve been So busy—”
Melissa''sniffed again and cut in
brusquely, "And that’s something else
I was curious about. I thought you
Were hiking off to the South some
where for Christmas. I was surpris
ed, I must admit, when I found that
your young man came here and that
you refused to leave. Some nonsense
about carrying out the Christmas
plans of a young scallyway that got
in the . way of your car.”
Chloe said quickly, “Dr. Kelvin is
not a scallywag,’Gran; and the acci
dent was altogether my fault. Natur
ally, I could do nothing else than fol
low his plans, since he was worrying
about htem and making himself
worse,”“And now you are running yourself
ragged arranging a tree With gifts for
every little ragamuffin in the village,
and a series of tableaux and songs
;And dances. Thought you didn't ap
prove of Christmas?” she demanded
unexpectedly.
Chloe colored. She drew a long
hard breath and said atrifle curtly,
“I didn’t say I didn’t ‘approve' of
Christmas. I said that the fuss that
people made about it seemed silly.
But Dr. Kelvin wanted the party. He
felt the people of the village would
enjoy it, so I am doing the best I
can.”
“And now what's this nonsense
about a day nursery for the village
women’s children?” demanded Melissa
harshly,
Chloe knew that Melissa was bait
ing her. Melissa always baited and
badgered her and seemed to enjoy
Chloe’s occasional outbursts of justi
fiable resentment. But Chloe had
herself in hand tonight and so she an
swered courteously:
“I’ll be glad to answer you, Gran,
but I m sorry you think it is non
sense. Some of the,women who work
m the mills have small children and
babies. They are tinder school age,
too young even for kindergarten, so
of course, they can’t be left alone
while Jheir mothers work. Mrs. Bar-
well has been taking care of them in
her home, sinmply because she is fond
of children and because she is a very
kind woman. But now her husband
is dangerously ill and she can no
longer keep the children. So some
friends of,mine and I have arranged
to take an empty house in the village,
furnish it with cast-offs from our var
ious attics and put a matron in charge
and help her see‘to it that the babies
are cared for all day.”
"Why cast-offs to furnish it?" Me
lissa wanted to know mildly.
“Because — well, because we are
spending rather a lot for .the Christ-
mas party and we didn’t like to call
on our parents for money—” she be
gan.
Melissa cut in dryly, “You needn’t.
L’ll consider it a privilege to furnish '
the house from cellar to attic, and
with the things very small children
will needi Cradles and trundle beds
and small-scaled furniture. Stop in at
Cunningham’s to-morrow and have
the bills sent to me. I’ll underwrite
the matron’s salary, too.”
Chloe stared at her .wide-eyed, for
the moment speechless. Her color
rose, and after a moment she gasped
in a tone of utter amazement, “Why.
Gran!”
“Well, why are you so surprised?
Am I a dragon, or an old witch, that
you should be so surprised that I
make a small gift to the people of
Sargent Mills?” Melissa demanded
sharply. “After all, it was my father
who started the mills, yours only in
herited them. Why shouldn’t. I dis
play an interest in the welfaie of the
people?”
Chloe laughed and hugged her
grandmother.
“Of course, darling. You’re an an
gel. Only—well, you’re always so—so
sort of hard-boiled—” she confessed.
Melissa grinned wickedly, her dark
eyes twinkling.
“I have to be hard-boiled so people
Won’t impose on me," she admitted
with satisfaction. “A young widow
with two small children to bring up,
and a large estate to manage and to
protect from robbers, can’t afford to
be soft-boiled, you know.”
Chloe studied her affectionately.
“You’re a darling old fraud, Gran.
For years I’ve thought you were a
perfect old terror.and have been scar-
edto death of you, when I wasn’t be
ing so angry with you — I had all I
could do to keep from squealing like
a pig under a gate. But now you’ll
never be able to make me afraid of
you again. I’ve got your number,
Gran!”
Melissa thumped her stick on the
floor and tried to look very stern.
“Fiddlesticks!” she snapped. “When
all I’ve done is offer to buy you a
few sticks of furniture. There! Run
along and get dressed for dinner."
Chloe kissed her and went. Melissa
followed her with eyes until the door
closed behind her and she heard the
girl's footsteps on the stairs. Then
she looked at Jane and nodded. There
was a mist in her fine dark eyes and
her mouth trembled just a little as
she said, “She’ll do! This Jim Pear
sall — what’s he like?”
“Very good-looking. I should think
rather disturbing to a girl like Chloe.
Rather the conquering hero type who
sweeps all things before him, espec
ially young feminine things,” answer
ed Jane.
Melissa looked shrewdly* at her,
“So you don’t like him, eh?” she
demanded baldly,
_ flushed, “I haven’t said that
I didn t like him, Mother—”
“You didn’t need to. You were try
ing so hard to be fair to him that you
. gave yourself away,” said Melissa
simply. “This Df. Kelvin—what’s he
like?”
“An entirely different type; horn of