Part 164 (1/2)
”Pay board! Not she. She wouldn't pay anything so long as she has a relative to live on. She's saved all her life. But n.o.body'll get any good of it till she's dead.”
This talk stopped when their hostess entered, changing to more general themes; but the interest revived when men's voices took up the tale.
”Yes--wants her will made again. Always making and unmaking and remaking. Harmless amus.e.m.e.nt, I suppose.”
”She wastes good money on both of us--and I tell her so. But one can't be expected to absolutely refuse a patient.”
”Or a client!”
”No. I suppose not.”
”She's not really ill then?”
”Bless you, Ruthven, I don't know a sounder old woman anywhere. All she needs is a change--and to think of something besides herself! I tell her that, too--and she says I'm so eccentric.”
”Why in all decency don't her son do her doctoring?”
”I suppose he's too frank--and not quite able to speak his mind. He's a fine fellow. That paper of his will be a great feature of our convention. Shame he can't go.”
”Why can't he? Can't afford it?”
”That's just it. You see the old lady don't put up--not a cent--and he has all he can do to keep the boys in college.” And their conversation stopped, and Grandma heard her own voice--inviting the doctor up to her room--and making another appointment for the lawyer.
Then it was the young minister, a cheerful, brawny youth, whom she had once described as a ”G.o.dless upstart!”
He appeared to be comforting young Mrs. Grey, and commending her. ”You are doing wonders,” he said, as their voices came into hearing, ”and not letting your right hand know it, either.”
”You make far too much of it, Mr. Eagerson,” the soft voice answered, ”I am so happy in my children--my home--my husband. This is the _only_ trouble--I do not complain.”
”I know you don't complain, Mrs. Grey, but I want you to know that you're appreciated! 'It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a woman in a wide house'--especially if she's your mother-in-law.”
”I won't allow you to speak so--if you are my minister!” said young Mrs.
Grey with spirit; and the talk changed to church matters, where the little lady offered to help with time and service, and regretted that she had no money to give.
There was a silence, save for small confused noises of a day time household; distant sounds of doors and dishes; and then in a sad, confidential voice--”Why is Grandma so horrid? And why do I have to love her? How can you love people you don't, Lady Isobel?”
Grandma was really fond of quiet little Josephine, even if she did sometimes snub her as a matter of principle. She lay and listened to these strictly private remarks, and meditated upon them after they had ceased. It was a large dose, an omnibus dose, and took some time to a.s.similate; but the old lady had really a mind of her own, though much of it was uninhabited, and this generous burst of light set it to working.
She said nothing to anyone, but seemed to use her eyes and ears with more attention than previously, and allowed her grand-daughter's small efforts toward affection with new receptiveness. She had one talk with her daughter-in-law which left that little woman wet-eyed and smiling with pleasure, though she could not tell about it--that was requisite.
But the family in general heard nothing of any change of heart till breakfast time on Christmas morning. They sat enjoying that pleasant meal, in the usual respite before the old lady appeared, when Sarah came in with a bunch of notes and laid one at each plate, with an air of great importance.
”She said I was to leave 'em till you was all here--and here they are!”
said Sarah, smiling mysteriously, ”and that I was to say nothing--and I haven't!” And the red-cheeked girl folded her arms and waited--as interested as anybody.
Uncle Harry opened his first. ”I bet it's a tract!” said he. But he blushed to the roots of his thick brown hair as he took out, not a tract, but a check.
”A Christmas present to my son-in-law-by-marriage; to be spent on the improvement of talking machines--if that is necessary!”