Part 18 (1/2)
Everett made an angry gesture. ”But I object to Ann having anything to do with such--” he hesitated and finished, ”such youngsters. There's no need of it.”
”Oh, Everett--but those two children must be cared for! Horace will come back in a few minutes, and then we'll know all about it.”
”In the meantime I'm hungry,” grumbled Everett, ”and if we're going to the theater--”
He had no time to finish his sentence before Horace, with a grave countenance, opened the door.
”I'm sorry, Katherine,” he apologized, and then stopped; for he noticed Everett's face dark with anger. Sh.e.l.lington did not forget that his friends had come to dinner; but he had just witnessed a scene that had touched his heart, and he determined to make both of his guests understand it also.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”I'M GOIN' TO TAKE HIS KIDS--AND I'LL MAKE OF 'EM WHAT I BE.”]
”The evening has turned out differently from what Ann and I expected,”
he explained. ”The fact is that sister can't go to the theater, and I feel that I ought to stay with her. So, we'll order another dinner, and then, Everett, if you and Katherine don't--” His fingers had touched the bell as he was speaking; but Everett stopped him.
”If the boy is too ill to be taken to a hospital,” he said coldly, ”Ann might be persuaded to leave him with the servants.”
”Yes, I suggested that,” answered Horace; ”but she refused. The boy has somehow won her heart, and the doctor will be here at any moment.”
A servant appeared, and in a half-hour the table was spread with another dinner. Ann's coming to the dining-room did not raise the spirits of the party; for her eyes were red from weeping, and she refused to eat.
”I've never known before, Everett,” she said, ”that children could suffer as that little boy does.”
”And you shouldn't know it now, Ann, if I had my way,” objected Brimbecomb. ”There's a strong line drawn between their kind and ours, and places have been provided for such people. I really want you to come with us tonight.”
In sharp astonishment, Ann turned on him.
”Oh, I really couldn't, Everett!” she said, beginning to sob. ”I shouldn't enjoy one moment of the time, while thinking of that poor child. You take Katherine, and say to Governor and Mrs. Vandecar that we couldn't come tonight. Tell them about it or not as you please. They are both good and kind, and will understand.”
Her tears had ceased during the latter part of her speech; for the frown had deepened on Everett's brow, bringing determination to her own. Never before had she been forced to exercise her wish above his, and Brimbecomb was not prepared for it. Something new had been born in the large, sad eyes turned to his, something he did not comprehend, and he inwardly cursed the squatter children.
At eight o'clock Everett handed Katherine into the carriage and gloomily took his place beside her. They were late at the theater by several minutes, when he brushed aside the curtain and ushered Miss Vandecar into the Governor's box. Mrs. Vandecar was seated in the far corner, her attention directed upon the play. Vandecar rose quietly, and before resuming his seat waited until his niece had taken her place. Then they were silent until the curtain fell after the first act.
”Where are Horace and Ann?” asked Mrs. Vandecar of Everett. ”Ann telephoned me at dinner-time that she would be here.”
Everett inclined his head toward Katherine, and the girl explained the situation. When she had added pathos to the story by telling of Flukey's illness, Mrs. Vandecar broke in.
”I'm glad Ann stayed, dear girl! It's like her to nurse that sick child.” She said no more; but turned away with misty eyes.
During the next act the Governor drew near her, and amid the shadows of the darkened box, took up the slender fingers and held them until the lights flashed upon the falling curtain. Both had gone back in memory to those dreadful days when tragedy had cast its somber shadows over them.
The doctor had predicted a serious illness for Flukey. Ann and Horace held an earnest conversation about it. Miss Sh.e.l.lington's maid had been instructed to relieve Flea of her boy's attire and clothe her in some of Ann's garments. Horace led his sister to the room where Flukey lay, and suggested that Flea be called.
A servant appeared at the touch of the bell.
”Tell the boy's sister to come here,” said Horace.
When Flea knocked at the door a few minutes later, he bade her enter.
Suppressing her pleasure and surprise at the girl's loveliness, Ann walked forward to meet her; but the little stranger backed timidly against the door and flashed a blus.h.i.+ng glance at the man.