Part 9 (1/2)

Mrs. Reynolds had no children and in that deplorable fact lay her keenest unhappiness.

She greeted Suzanna cordially.

”Come in, Suzanna, come in,” she said. ”I've been using vinegar and red pepper all morning,” she continued, as she went her way to the pantry with Suzanna's cup. ”I've one of my old headaches.”

”Oh, I'm so sorry,” said Suzanna, with immediate sympathy. ”Have you been worrying?”

”Not more than usual, Suzanna,” said Mrs. Reynolds with a sigh. ”Here's your vinegar. Hold it steady. Vinegar's a bad thing to spill.”

”Thank you,” said Suzanna, politely, as she received the cup. And then: ”I don't see why you should worry. You have no children. It's mother's many children that sometimes give her worry.”

”Your mother'd have worries even without you all,” returned Mrs.

Reynolds. ”Won't you sit down a spell, Suzanna?”

”No, I can't, mother's waiting.” Suzanna walked toward the door, pausing on her way to glance about her. ”My, but you're very clean here,” she said, appreciatively. ”Your cleanness is different from ours. Ours doesn't show so.”

”There's no little hands to clutter things up,” said Mrs. Reynolds, but her voice wasn't glad.

Suzanna, intuitively sensing the real trouble, said: ”Reynolds slammed the door this morning, Mrs. Reynolds. We heard the slam in our dining-room and my mother jumped.” Suzanna quite innocently borrowed Mrs. Reynolds' way of referring to her husband.

Mrs. Reynolds' face darkened. ”Yes, I know he did. That man is getting more like a bear every day.”

”He liked our twin that went away, Mrs. Reynolds. He wasn't like a bear when he played with her.”

At this statement Mrs. Reynolds suddenly threw her ap.r.o.n over her head and sobbed: ”That's just it, Suzanna, that's just it; there aren't any little cluttering fingers about.”

Suzanna set the vinegar cup carefully down on the table, the while her keenly sensitive mind worked rapidly. Those gifts which by dint of their frequency in her own home seemed rather overdone were actually missed here! A strong, deep sympathy for Mrs. Reynolds' disappointment grew within her, but did not entirely crowd out the thought that through this very disappointment her own burning desire might be brought to pa.s.s. She now went swiftly and touched the weeping woman.

”Mrs. Reynolds,” she began, ”will you tell me how you feel about cutting pink goods away from under lace. Can you afford to do that?”

Mrs. Reynolds' ap.r.o.n came down with a jerk, and for a second she stared her perplexity at the upturned, earnest little face. Then with quick understanding which revealed her real mother-spirit, she answered: ”Why land, Honey-Girl, Reynolds makes pretty good money at times. I guess we can do about as we please in most simple ways.”

”Well, then, keep your ap.r.o.n down,” advised Suzanna; ”and just think this thought over and over: 'Reynolds is not going to be cross any more!' Thank you again for the vinegar, I must be going now.”

It was not without misgiving that Suzanna started immediately to put her secret plan into execution. And her judicious side urged the completion of all details before she said anything to those most nearly concerned in her new move. Only to Maizie, whose constant attendance she skillfully managed to elude while she made her simple preparations, did she at last give any confidence, and it was in this manner she spoke:

”There's going to be a great change, Maizie; and tonight you must manage to stay awake to do something for me.”

Maizie, at once interested, grew wildly expectant. Though she could send up no airs.h.i.+ps of her own, she loved to contemplate Suzanna's daring flights.

”I'll do anything, Suzanna,” she promised.

So Suzanna gave Maizie her news. Hearing it, Maizie's lips quivered, but she kept back the tears by the exercise of great control. They were upstairs in their own room. It was late afternoon. Peter was out playing. Mrs. Procter, the baby with her, was downtown ordering groceries.

”Now, you mustn't cry, Maizie,” said Suzanna; ”it all had to be, and what is to be is for the best.” Suzanna quoted from Mrs. Reynolds. ”Go downstairs and get father's dictionary.”

Maizie obeyed, returning quickly with the desired book.

”And now stand at the window so as to tell me when you see mother coming.”

So Maizie took her stand while Suzanna labored hard with the pen. An hour pa.s.sed. Once Suzanna flew downstairs to the kitchen, then returned to her work. At last, Maizie in excited tones announced that her mother and the baby had turned the corner. Suzanna laid down her pen.