Part 5 (1/2)

The particular advantage of Blodgett's, besides the fact that you could have two helps of everything without paying extra for it, was that it was exclusive and social. Mrs. Blodgett had collected her family of boarders on the principle of not having anybody who wasn't a suitable companion for Aggie. There was also a pianola which gave the place a tone.

There was fire and light in the dining-room at Blodgett's from seven to nine always, and in the parlour with the pianola on Sat.u.r.day evening and all day Sunday. Sometimes, even on week days after supper, J.

Wilkinson would open the door into the darkened room, push away the pianola and sing topical songs to his own accompaniment until his stiffened fingers clattered on the keys. Other times he would give imitations of popular stage celebrities until Blodgett's shouted with laughter. At all times they appeared to have a great many engagements.

Peter was advised to join this or that organization, and to enter upon social occasions that unfortunately presented themselves in the light of occasions to spend money. Apparently there were no dragons tracking the path of Blodgett's boarders. Miss Havens did better than any of them for him. She explained to him how to get books from the circulating library, and let him read hers until he could arrange for a card. She said it was a pleasure to think there was going to be somebody in the house who was congenial. It wasn't that she had anything against Miss Thatcher and the rest of them--they just didn't have the same tastes. She thought a person ought to spend some of the time improving their minds. Although the expression was ambiguous, it served as a sort of sedative to the aching vacuity of the hours which Peter spent away from Siegel Brothers.

He found himself spending as many as possible of them with Miss Havens.

She had a way of making the frivolling talk of the supper table appear a warrantable subst.i.tute for the things that Peter knew, even while he echoed her phrases, that he wasn't getting. He found himself skidding on the paths of self-improvement and the obligations of seeing life, along the edges of desolation. He immersed himself as far as possible in the atmosphere of Blodgett's in order that he needn't have any time left in which to consider how far it fell short of what he had come to find. For this reason he was usually the last at the supper table, but there were occasions when he found it discreet to slip away as early and quietly as possible.

It was one evening about two months after his instalment at Blodgett's.

Peter was sitting in his room when he heard them yammering at his door with so much hilarious insistence that he found himself getting up to open it, without giving himself time to put down the book he was reading or to take off the overcoat he had put on for want of a fire, and finding himself in some embarra.s.sment because of the misapprehension which this fact involved.

”Ready, Peter?”

”Come along, Peter!”

”I ... I'm not going,” said Peter.

”What? Not going to the rink with us to-night? Why, you said----” The bright group of his fellow boarders hung upon the narrow landing like bees at the threshold of a hive.

”I said I'd go if I could--” protested Peter, ”and I can't.”

”Gee! What's the matter with you?”

”Don't be a beastly stiff!”

”Come on, fellows, we'll miss the car. Let him be a stiff if he wants to.”

Peter heard their feet retreating on the stairs, and then he saw that Minnie Havens still hesitated at the landing. She had on her best silk waist and her blond pompadour was brushed higher than ever. Her eyes, which were blue, were fixed directly on him with something in the meeting that gave him the impression, gaspingly, of being about to step off into s.p.a.ce. He seemed suddenly to see a path opening directly through the skating rink and the Sat.u.r.day Social Club to the House of the s.h.i.+ning Walls, and Minnie Havens walking in it beside him. He wrenched his mind away forcibly from that and fixed it on the figure of his weekly salary.

”Couldn't you?” she persuaded.

”No,” said Peter. ”I'm much obliged to you, but I really couldn't.”

But before he had time to take up his reading, which somehow he was not able to do immediately, he heard Mrs. Blodgett, who made a point of being as kind to her boarders as she could afford to be, tapping at his door.

”I thought you'd be going to the rink to-night.”

”No,” said Peter.

”You don't think it's wrong, or anything?”

”Oh, no, not in the least.”

”Well, Mr. Weatheral, I've seen a power of young folks, comin' and goin', in my business and it don't pay for 'em to get too stodgy like.

They need livenin' up.” She hung upon the door as Peter waited for her to go. ”Miss Havens is a nice girl,” she ventured.

Peter admitted it. ”I've my mother and sister to think of,” he told her, and presently he found he had told her a great deal more.

”Well,” commented Mrs. Blodgett, ”you do have a lot to carry.... Was you readin' now, Mr. Weatheral? ... because it's warmer down in my sittin'

room, and there's only Aggie and me sewin'.... Besides,” she argued triumphantly, ”it's savin' light.”