Part 22 (2/2)

”The cleverness of her!” exclaimed the invalid. ”To take the menyou into her own pretty hands and think she can see to it all! She can, too, or I 'm deceived. Consultin' with me and gettin' my directions, and tellin' me where she makes bold to follow, and where she 's not quite sure. It's a pity she 's not mistress of the house in Mrs. Townsend's place--and her so wore out she ought to be at a sanitarium this minute.

Look to it, Sophy, that Norah and Mary does their duty by Mrs. Murray this day, If they 're inclined to be triflin', bid them come up to me.

I 'll soon put them in mind of what Mr. Murray says to me when he brought home his wife. 'Whatever you do to please her will be appreciated,' he says, 'by me.' And it's nothing I would n't do for Mr.

Murray and Miss s.h.i.+rley, these seven years I 've lived here. And now I 'm feelin' the same way toward Mrs. Murray.”

Whether it was the potency of the message which reached scullery maid and waitress by way of Sophy, or whether it was Jane's own engaging manner, together with the respect she soon inspired by the a.s.sured and competent way in which she ”took hold,” there could be no question that by the end of the first hour not only Norah and Mary, but also Ellen, the laundress, were flying about as they had rarely done before, even for Bridget, who certainly knew how to get out of them work enough and to spare.

At a moment when they chanced to be all together, Jane had said to them, as with deft fingers she mixed a bowlful of ingredients, that if with their help she could only bring about the serving of a luncheon which the guests would like to eat, she should be happier than over any entertainment she herself had ever been offered. And she had been able to tell from their smiling interested faces that she was to have from that moment the best service they could give her.

s.h.i.+rley, when affairs were well under way, had gone to the telephone and called up Murray's office.

”I want you to come home for a few minutes at two o'clock!” she said, imperatively.

”What for? Anything the matter?” asked her brother.

”Not a thing,” said s.h.i.+rley, rea.s.suringly ”But there 's something happening up here at the house that you must see.”

”I 'm pretty busy.”

”You 'll never forgive yourself, when you hear about it, if you don't see with your own eyes.”

”All right, I 'll try to make it. Anything connected with Jane?”

”Of course. Do you suppose I 'd ask you if it was n't?”

”I'll be there.”

”I thought you would,” and s.h.i.+rley laughed as she hung up the receiver.

No doubt Murray was a happy man.

”Do you suppose Jane is going to be able to do it?” queried Mrs.

Townsend, dressing with the help of s.h.i.+rley and Sophy. As the hour for the arrival of her guests approached, doubts were beginning to a.s.sail her. Jane was no doubt an extremely capable young matron, but the preparing of such a luncheon as Bridget had planned meant not only accomplished cookery, but much skill and care in the details of serving.

Had Jane's eyes been open during the brief period of her entertainment at various fine tables! It was too late to do anything but hope so.

”Don't worry, mother,” s.h.i.+rley had urged. ”Jane's doing wonders. If she can keep it up she 'll surprise you.”

”I had a bit sip of the booly-on just now when I was down in the kitchen,” offered Sophy, ”and it was elegant. And you know yourself 'm, Bridget says that's one of the most trying things of all to get tasty.”

Mrs. Townsend went wanly down into her rooms, to find flowers all about, distributed by Olive's skilful fingers. She looked into the dining-room. Her table was faultlessly laid, to the last detail, and a charming arrangement of lilies was mirrored in the polished mahogany.

”Now come and rest until the last minute,” urged s.h.i.+rley. ”And don't worry. Mrs. Arlo Stevenson won't have a thing to criticise--except the conversation.”

An hour afterward, Murray, letting himself in with his latch-key, found s.h.i.+rley awaiting him inside the door. ”Don't say a word,” she whispered. ”Just walk straight past the dining-room without looking in.

Mother 's entertaining Mrs. Stevenson at luncheon, you know, and it's a very solemn occasion.”

Wondering, Murray, hat in hand, followed his sister as she walked demurely by the wide entrance to the dining-room, from within which he could hear a subdued murmur of voices. But once past, she hurried him, by a circuitous route, to a narrow hallway at the back of the house, which led to the kitchen. Here she stationed him, and bade him push the door open a cautious crack and peep within. He obeyed her. s.h.i.+rley stood behind him, alive with antic.i.p.ation, while she watched her brother's shoulders.

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