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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Advance-Times, 1940-12-19, Page 17WINGHAM ADVANCE-TIMES PAGE NINE so awfully queer that I had a crying spell, which of course was weak-mind- fed and silly* But I couldn’t help it.” Dusty sdid, “Of course; And shall I play a two-fingered acornpahimfent?'' They tried three of Sue’s songs and afterwards Dusty was silent. He lighted a cigarette, poked the tiny fire, and paced up and down the room. She put her face’ in her hands. “Dusty! Is it that bad?” "Oh!” he said, as if he had forgotten her presence and was jerked back from his own thoughts. “Oh, Sue, it is surprising. It’s appealing, too. .Very. But it isn’t any more like the liquid tone you had before your ill­ ness than if you were another person. Some of the notes arc, of course. But this low huskiness — why, I shouldn’t be surprised if it intrigued Tony Stef­ ano.” Sue’s eyes, bluer and larger than ever, seemed enormous now. Her sweet red mouth seemed larger, too. But her face was alight with the old eagerness and she said, “Dusty — please -—’please. Let me-try!" “But,’Sue, you’re barely out of the hospital. It isn’t possible.” “Dusty — oh, at least you must give me a chance!” Finally Dusty telephoned Tony Stefano. Tony was delighted. He’d take Sue on as soon as she was ready, and he’d like to feature her this com­ ing Saturday night if she^felt equal to it. ' To conserve her strength they’d dispense with the rehearsals and Sue could run over the songs once or twice with the orchestra leader and the piano. On Saturday night Sue was ex­ tremely nervous and Dusty doubted the wisdom of her appearing before she was actually strong. After all, she had been dangerously ill, and just because she had made such a start­ lingly quick recovery there was no reason to push her. He had bought lifer some fur-lined velvet overshoes, called, in his mother’s gay days, car­ riage boots. ■ If he could help it Sue wasn’t going to get her feet wet again. Underneath her velvet coat she wore a warm knitted sweater which Gran had sent, and admitted that it was comforting. Sue let her hand rest in Dusty’s and watched the lighted shop windows flash past. “I’m glad,” she said, “that I won’t miss Christmas. I should have hated to. What day it is, anyway?” Christmas is less than two weeks off, if that’s what you want.to know. And young lady, just to give you fair warning, remember you’re just out of the hospital and if anything happens to you I'll be responsible. At this mo­ ment I have cold feet for calling up Tony Stefano at all. I should have k'ept my hands off and refused to have anything to do with it. I should have insisted on a cruise .to Bermuda or the South. I should have—” She turned to him. “Dusty, darling, don’t be frightened about me. Really I feel well, although I haven’t the strength I had before and I get tired quickly. But you know I urged yott to do this. Don’t worry so. I’m quite all right.” (She came early on the program. The night club was glittering with lights in crystal chandeliers. It was newly decorated, smart, and doing well. Dusty took a table and sat down to wait for Sue. Now that it, was time for her, he was beside himself. The rehearsal., Tony had told him in the backstudio, had been all right, which meant little or nothing to him. Now that Sue was to face this roomful of people Dusty felt he had been most •unwise to allow her to undergo this ordeal. He beckoned to the waiter and ordered a stiff drink, as if he him­ self were about to sing for this audi­ ence. When Sue stood there, her 'hands clasped before her, she looked so frag­ ile and beautiful that his heart leaped. Yet no one seemed to notice her. Then her voice, low and husky, came forth appealingly, and he saw people stop, listen, and turn towards her. Sue finished het song, and Dusty heaved a sigh of relief. The applause was spontaneous and continued. The orchestra leader nodded to Sue to give an encore. This time there was sil­ ent attention throughout, with scatter­ ed clapping. She reached the refrain, and then a Strange look of panic and bewilderment spread over her face. Dusty rose. When he reached her she had stepped behind the piano and me orchestra leader, puzzled, was Staring at her. “What is it, Sue?” Dusty asked. “I Can’t,” she said in a whisper. “Of course you can ” he said heart* ily. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and terror-stricken, “But you don’t understand, My voice — is complete­ ly ~ gone.” CHAPTER XV While Dot briskly packed Sue’s suitcase because Sue was so weakly incapable of anything, Dusty was try­ ing to cheer up Sue. “Don’t take it so seriously, my dear, All you need is a rest and everything , will be all right,” “It won’t,” Sue said. “The special­ ist told me that probably my vocal cords are permanently injured,” ‘‘Doctors don’t know everything,” Said Dusty. “Forget it. They don’t know you, Sue. Think how you re­ covered—you amazed all the doctors in New York. In fact, if I’m not mis­ taken, your case is being written up in the medical journal this month, to bring hope to others.” She smiled faintly. “Cheer up,” said Dusty. “We'll all come up to White Creek for' Christ­ mas if you’ll be good, won’t we, Dot?” * “Of course.” Dot said brightly. >!< * * Dot was very 'much on edge. Not over an hour ago she had flown into a rage at her secretary for a trivial error.. It wasn’t only for that, but for the mistakes'of yesterday and the day before and. the day before that. She had acthdliy yelled at the girl, who “To Thanksgiving. May we all be thankful for what we now have, and want no more than we deserve.” sat white-faced, staring straight ahead. Then Dot had risen and un­ steadily poured herself a drink of wa­ ter front the vacuum carafe on her own desk, “Connie,” she said, with a sudden surge of warm feeling, a reaction from the anger which ^Jeft her limp and trembling, “I’m sorry. 1 didn’t mean all I said. And of course I didn’t mean that about firing you. It’s just the Christmas spirit, I guess,” and she smiled a little wryly. Connie had crumpled at her kind­ ness and put her head on her. type­ writer. “Oh, Miss Graves, yoti fright­ ened me so. It’s niy fault, I knpw. But I’ve been so tired lately. My fa­ ther is ill and my sister and I have been up nights looking after him, and —you sec, we couldn’t afford a night Purse.” It was the sort of miserable affair that one shuddered to recall. Dot had never dreamed that in her own smooth world, she could be anything but just, even-tempered and unbiased. Always, more than anything, she had hated business women who were mean —who vented their ill-humor on their underlings—and it seemed as if now she had become one, herself. Was it bccaiisc she had felt guilty, ever since she had sent Sue home to Gran? But what else was there to do? Even Dusty had agreed with her. But she had, she knew, a black little thought that if Sue were Safe in White Creek, at least Dusty could not see so much of her as he did here in New York. Was it because she had count­ ed oil that fact, and then Dusty had gone careening off after Sue, without Considering her? * >k * C. C. Mitcheltrec’s was jammed with people. Although the counter for Christmas wrappings, had been cent­ red so that customers could get on all four sides of it, and there were hall a dozen extra girls, still people were complaining that they couldn't get am» attention. • , Dot paused with her hand on the stair railing which led to the balcony and looked down. The store was a madly turbulent sea, heads and arms wildly bobbing about on the waves. Although it was early in the after­ noon, the. sales girls were already weary, their smiles strained, their fac­ es wan. "And it’s still two weeks off!” Dot sighed. “The Christmas spirit is sup­ posed to be back of all this,” she mus­ ed. “If there is anything more unlike the. Christmas spirit as it was once envisaged, it’s these weeks before Christmas with their burden of shop­ ping. Don’t people know—can’t they realize that nearly all of it is artific­ ially stimulated? That it’s just a com­ mercial racket fostered and bolstered and built up by people who have things to sell?” At the moment she loathed herself because no one reaped a bigger profit from Christmas than the company of C. C. Mitcheltree. In fact, they had almost more than anybody else to make wrapping gifts a fine art, with their varicolored paper, their trans­ parent colored bows, the gilded holly, the miniature Santa Clauses. And as if that weren’t enough, there was the Christmas party, not only for juven­ iles, but for grown-ups. Decorations and costumes', the new indestructible kind, and crepe paper table cloths and new table settings, and favors and Jack Horners and ten thousand other silly items. Stephen opened the door of his of­ fice and met her on the stairs. “Why so glum, my lass? We’re doing three hundred‘more than last year, even as early as this,” “Oh, but, Stephen/’ Dot groaned, “it’s dll so absurdly stupid. Why can’t shoppers understand that it isn’t what they buy, but what they edn give of themselves? Of time, or thought, or affection? If they’d only sit down and write letters — or if they’d make something, with their own hands — after all, Graii lids" the right idea. She would think d gift no gift unless it held something of herself. Now those mittens for the nephews and nieces—” Stfephen took her by the arm. “Come on Up/' I Waiit to talk to you, anyway. Besides, this—this Speech of yours about Christmas has a ring bf familiarity. Didn’t we have an ad this season that ran: ‘It isn’t the gift, it’s its wrapping’—or something to that effect?” Dot sat down limply and looked out through the long thickly woven white, curtains into the street, blue in the early dusk, “How can you twist it so? ‘Though your gift be small, its wrapping can be important. And a Mitcheltree wrapping shows the giv­ er’s loving thought of you.’ Listen to those females down there, yapping— full of loving thoughts.” “What have you there?” Dot glanced down at the corrugat­ ed frame of a Jack Horner pie and read , the slip. “Merry Christmas, sil­ ver letters pasted on cellophane cloud —silver ribbon—two dozen matching favors, blue and white—to be made by Peggy. Deliver Saturday. Truck.” Stephen took it from her and plac­ ed it on the desk. “Dot, my sweet, I hate to see you so tired, so frazzled, So warily caustic.” She turned her face away and for a moment her chin trembled. It was (■quite true. Other people besides Ste­ phen had noticed it. She just couldn’t help the cutting remarks that came . kps* Nerves, she supposed. Otherwise—well, what else could it be. She was tired to the very marrow of her bones. So tired that sometimes she thought they would all go soft as jelly and drop her in a tired little heap —to sleep—and sleep. “Perhaps.” Dot thought, “if I make up my mind to marry Stephen and really think about him and plan to make him happy, I can be a nice per* son again.” “Dot, we could get married and take' a trip, after the rush.” Dot smiled. “But New Year’s com- ?s .on.i!ie heels of Christmas. It just isn t fair—and February is the party month—” ■ “There’s still almost all of January. And it’s nice in the South.” ?Yessaid Dot, “A little sun helps, but I want to .be sure.” It would scarcely be fair to marry Stephen just because she was tired and discouraged and wanted a chance to sleep, somewhere away from New York. But she thought, “I probably will marry him. I think I am fonder of Stephen than of anyone else in the world. He certainly has been faith­ ful and long-suffering. Why has he waited so long unless he really means it all, as he says he does?” “All right, Dot,” Stephen said gent­ ly. “By the way, are you bent on White Creek for Christmas?” “I guess so,” Dot said. “Gran al­ ways expects us—and Sue is pretty well knocked out. Gran is planning a gay Christmas chiefly for her sake,” “Dot,” said Stephen, “I’d love to come too. May I?” “I’d'love to have you,” Dot said as she rose to go out and take the Jack Horner frame to Peggy. “Stephen.” she added, and looked straight into his eyes, “I can’t think of anything nicer in the world than marrying you.” “Oh!” said Stephen. “Oh, my dear!” As he reached to take her in his arms, a sample roll of crepe paper which had been leaning on the shelf tipped over and . crashed down about their heads, winding them foolishly in yards of a new shale called gloxinia. CHAPTER XVI Gran always wore a percale house dress which came down to her ankles. The top was a tight little bodice that flower out over her" soft bosom. And the collar, topped by a fresh bit of riching, was held together with a dark cameo. Over the dress she wore a full white apron which tied in the back with a stiffly starched bow. “Now, Sue,” Gran was saying as she weighed out raisins and flour on the funny old scales for the Christmas fruit cakes — an event which could no,t be trusted to Lucy Gilbert, the maid of all work — “it’s never the right thing to spend money before you have it, now, is it?” “No,” said Sue contritely, in a hus­ ky voice. She was sitting on the kit­ chen stool, picking out black walnuts for the cake. “No, I guess it isn’t. Gran, b_ut you see there was so much money coming in.” “But it didn’t come,” Gran said. “No.” “Now when , the cakes are done,” said Gran, stirring the brown aromat­ ic Spices into the rich dough, “we’ll douse them with sherry and let ’em ripen. Then we’ll get the keys to the Blue Chamber and the Green Chamb­ er and inspect Lucy Gilbert's clean­ in’ Upstairs., She's kinda apt to slight things — ain't so young and spry as she was. And Susie, when you get through there, I’d like you to sort ov­ er all them Christmas ornaments in the box in the living room. Make a list of what we need, and when you take your constitutional this after­ noon, stop at Joel’s and tell him we want the biggest tree he’s got. ’Taiii’t every year we can have a real cele­ bration, and We might aS well make the most of it. Dusty and Dot and this new beau of loot’s, Stephen Em­ ery — my! my!” Grandma drew a long breath in anticipation. “I do love a party!” “Yes,” said Sue. The box of Christmas ornaments was yellowed and grubby with dust. Sue opened it and found the carton with each bright ball in its own par­ tition, like eggs in a box. Here was the bl-Ue and silver one with indented sides, the crimson and gold one with the pointed tip, the yellowdiaired an­ gels, the huge star for the tip, the cot­ ton-stuffed Santa Clauses, the walnuts she had gilded orie Christmas time, the tarlatan stockings and here a bro­ ken Candy cane. She held the star loosely in her hand. At this moment she might again be the small girl who lived here, with no knowledge of the 4