Part 15 (1/2)

Spring and summer pa.s.sed slowly by, marking a growing interchange of amenities between the little house in Gay Street and the big one in Worthington Square. Things had happened during the winter, things kept on happening as the year advanced, to draw the two families together. In January s.h.i.+rley had had a long and severe illness, during which Mrs.

Bell and Jane made their way into the inmost heart of every member of the household. There were nights during that illness when Joseph Bell, feeling that difference of social position counted for nothing when a father was in trouble, went over to shake Harrison Townsend's hand, bidding him be of courage--and found himself detained as a friend in need.

By and by, when the anxiety was over and the Bells ceased coming often in and out, the Townsends began to summon them. Mr. Townsend discovered the shrewd wisdom and genial philosophy of Joseph Bell to be of value, and often went to sit with him in the little front room, where his eyes noted with approval the rows of books. He discovered that Armstrongs's head man knew more that lay between the covers of those books than did Harrison Townsend himself.

As for Mrs. Townsend and Mrs. Bell, while they were too different in temperament and taste to get far into each other's lives, they found enough in common to bring them together rather oftener than could naturally have been expected. There was a quiet poise about Mrs. Bell which the other woman, accomplished woman of the world though she was, could only study in despair of ever being able to attain. But she found a rest and refreshment in her neighbour's society which none of her more fas.h.i.+onable friends could give her, and she sent often for Mrs. Bell to keep her company.

”Olive's taken one big step in advance,” Peter said to his mother, one day in early summer. ”She has begun to write regularly to Forrest.”

”I'm very glad,” said Mrs. Bell. ”Does he answer her letters?”

”He does--only too glad to, I should say. She's shown me some of his letters. There 's a homesick grunt to them, that's sure. Life in the army, and particularly life in the Philippines, is n't unmitigated bliss, and he's finding it out. He does n't exactly squeal, but you can see how it is with him.”

”It will do Olive good to take up such a sisterly duty. Was it your suggestion?” asked Mrs. Bell.

”How did you guess that? I did give her a talk one day, when she happened to say that s.h.i.+rley was the only one of the family who wrote to Forrest with any regularity. She was pretty angry with me for a day or two, but she came round, and now she writes once a fortnight. There 's really more to that girl than you would think.”

”She is improving very much, I am sure,” agreed his mother, warmly.

”With a different early training, Olive would have been by now a much more lovable girl than she has seemed. But, happily, it 's not too late to give her new ideals, and I think you have helped in that direction.”

”Ideals?” mused Peter. ”I don't think I have any of those--at least, I don't call them by that name. Rules of the game--how will that do, instead? The foreman of Room 8 in a note-paper factory is n't supposed to have ideals, is he?”

”I don't know about that. Suppose you ask the men and women under you.

I fancy they would protest your ideals were pretty hard for them to live up to?”

Peter laughed to himself. ”Maybe they would. But they would n't put it that way. 'The boss is a tough one to suit,' they 'd say.”

”Call it what you will--rules of the game, if you like. But, as the children used to say, 'Peter Bell plays fair!'”

”I hope he does. If he does n't, it is n't the fault of his trainer.”

And the gray eyes met the brown ones for an instant in a glance which said many things Peter could not have spoken.

The days went on; June gave place to July; August heat melted into September mildness; and October, with its falling leaves, marked the end of the days of outdoor life lived from April to November in the little garden.

”The twenty-fifth is Jane's birthday,” observed Nancy to s.h.i.+rley, several days before that event. ”We 're wondering what to do in celebration.”

”Why, it's mine, too!” cried s.h.i.+rley. ”How funny that we did n't know it! We ought to celebrate it together.”

This remark was duly reported to Mrs. Bell, who said at once that they must invite s.h.i.+rley over to have her birthday cake with Jane's. But before this plan could be carried into effect, an invitation arrived from the big house, asking every member of the Bell household to be present at a small dinner of s.h.i.+rley's own planning.

”This is the first time we 've all been asked over there together--it's quite an occasion,” declared Peter, on the evening of the twenty-fifth, as he stood waiting in the doorway for everybody to be ready. ”I say,”

he exclaimed, ”but we're gorgeous!”

And he fastened admiring eyes on his mother, who was dressed in a pale gray gown of her own making, and therefore of faultless effect. The quality was fine also, for Peter had looked after that.

”Gorgeous does n't seem exactly the word,” Ross commented. ”Demure but coquettish, I should call that gown.”

The party proceeded in a body to the corner of Worthington Square, where Jane, under escort of Peter, came to a sudden halt. ”Oh, I 've forgotten something to go with my present to s.h.i.+rley,” she said to him.