BILLIKINS IS FRIGHTENED
It was inevitable that the personality of Felix Brand should loom
large in the home of his secretary. Mrs. Marne was a semi-invalid and
suffered frequent relapses into more serious illness. The care of her
and the management of their little household were Isabella's part,
and to these two, much confined at home and by necessity cut off from
nearly all outside pleasures and interests, the chief daily event was
Henrietta's return from her busy hours and responsible tasks in the
architect's office. But, of still more importance, their worldly
welfare hung upon the salary which he paid to the younger sister.
Mrs. Marne's husband had been a physician in one of the smaller cities
of Massachusetts; but, though a New Englander, he had not possessed
the characteristic thrift of the sons of that region, and consequently
his widow and his daughters found, after his death, that the
settlement of his affairs left them a very slender sum of money. It
was necessary that one of the young women should become an income
earner, and it was decided that Henrietta, since she had a better head
for affairs and more liking for business, should take this share of
their burden. There was enough money to give her a course in
secretarial training in a women's vocational college in Boston and to
support them all in economical comfort until she should be ready to
begin her work. As she was at once successful in finding a position in
New York, they invested the few hundred dollars still left in a first
payment upon a little home in Staten Island, and they were now
carefully husbanding Henrietta's salary and paying off the remaining
debt upon the instalment plan.
It was through Dr. Annister that Henrietta found a good position so
quickly. He and Dr. Marne had been classmates and warm friends during
the years of their medical training, and afterward, although one had
gone to New York and become one of the famous specialists of his
generation and the other had sunk into the obscurity of general
practice in a small city, they had kept up their friendship in a
desultory way, with occasional meetings at medical conventions and now
and then a letter. When Dr. Marne died, a missive came from his friend
that seemed so simple and genuine in its feeling that it deeply
touched Henrietta, to whom fell the duty of answering it, because of
her mother's stricken condition.
The memory of that letter and a warmly reverent feeling for the
friendship that had called it forth stayed long in her heart. And at
last, when she was ready to try conclusions with the world, and felt
sure, with the usual conviction of youth, that it would be much better
to go somewhere else to begin, she wrote to Dr. Annister, telling him
briefly her plans and hopes and what her training had been. And the
famous Dr. Philip Annister interested himself in the daughter of
his old friend, and at once found for her a well-paid position as
secretary for Felix Brand, his prospective son-in-law. Mrs. Annister
also showed much kindly feeling for the girl and often had her stay
overnight at their home for a visit to the theatre or the opera.
Between Mildred Annister and Henrietta there existed a friendship
which made up in outward warmth what it lacked in depth. For Mildred,
with her woman's heart but lately awakened and filled to the brim with
absorbed and adoring first love, could not help some secret resentment
that any other woman should be anything to her beloved or give him
any service. Her good sense told her that this was unreasonable, while
her respect and kindly feeling for Henrietta made her ashamed of it.
So she did her best to conceal it and in the effort overdid her
expressions of affection. Henrietta would have responded to these with
girlish ardor, for she liked Mildred and greatly admired her tall and
stately beauty, had she not felt some barrier just below the surface
that kept her as reserved, in all the little confidences that usually
go on between young women, as was Mildred herself. She did not even
know of the semi-engagement, to which Dr. and Mrs. Annister had not
yet given their full assent, that existed between Mildred and Felix
Brand, although she felt sure that the girl was whole-heartedly in
love with him.
As the weeks went on and autumn merged into winter, Henrietta
sometimes noticed a harried look upon her employer's countenance. She
wondered much about this, for he was winning success and honors in
ample measure. An international committee of artists and architects,
sitting in judgment upon the competitive designs submitted for a
memorial building to one of the country's heroes, had announced their
decision awarding the prize to Felix Brand. He had been made a member
of the municipal art advisory commission and a little later a national
society of architects had elected him to its presidency. There were
private commissions in plenty, enough to keep him and his assistants
busy. And, finally,--and Brand laughingly told his secretary that he
considered this the most signal success of his career--Mrs. Fenlow had
approved his last design for the country house she purposed to build
up the Hudson and had been moved to transports of enthusiasm over its
every detail.
In addition to these honors and successes, Henrietta knew that he was
making much money outside of his profession; that his operations in
stocks were nearly always profitable, that once or twice they had been
richly so, and that he had bought a large number of shares in a marble
quarry for whose product his designs often called.
So she marveled much within herself that he should so often look
careworn and show a furtive anxiety in his eyes and face when he had,
or was rapidly winning, almost every good thing that mortals count a
source of happiness and when even her intimacy with his affairs did
not reveal a solitary cause for distress or uneasiness of mind.
She spoke of this sometimes at home. For her mother and sister were
always concerned to know what her day had been, and Felix Brand being
so important a person to their lives, they were deeply interested in
whatever he did or said and in everything Henrietta could tell them
about him. They were scrupulously careful not to ask or to speak about
anything that would approach too nearly her confidential relations
with her employer. But outside those lines there was a large and
interesting territory wherein they could and did have much converse
together about the architect, his success, and his personality.
On a bright and mild Sunday morning in mid-winter, whose sunshine was
full of that guileful promise of spring with which the tricky weather
goddess of the Manhattan region loves to play pranks upon its
residents, the two Marne sisters, in their mother's room, were
chatting with her as she reclined in the sun beside a south window.
"I've some good news," said Henrietta. "I didn't tell you last night,
because I knew we'd all be gossiping in here this morning and it would
be so cosy to talk it all over then. Mr. Brand has raised my salary,
to date from the first of this month!"
Mrs. Marne's thin hand sought her daughter's where it lay upon the arm
of her chair and then hastened to wipe away a tear or two. For she was
nervously much broken and her tears, whether of joy or sorrow, came
easily.
Isabella sprang up, exclaiming, "Harry! How splendid!" And the two
girls hugged each other delightedly and kissed first each other and
then their mother. Then they kissed each other again and whirled about
in a waltz measure. Billikins, the white fox terrier, quickly put a
stop to this exuberance by endeavoring to take part in it himself,
barking furiously and making ecstatic rushes between them.
"The second time, dear!" exclaimed Isabella as they settled down
again, cheeks flushed and eyes shining. "Only think of it! At
Christmas, and now again so soon!"
"It isn't so very much," said Henrietta, "only ten dollars a month
more, but it will be a lot for us, and it means a great big lot to me,
because it makes me feel that I'm succeeding. What is it, Billikins?
Do you want to come up? And you've brought babykins, haven't you? Come
on, then, both of you." The fox terrier was begging and wriggling
beside her, his inseparable companion and plaything, a dilapidated
rag-doll, in his mouth. She lifted them to her lap, where, after much
licking and nuzzling of the doll, he curled himself up to sleep.
"Of course you're succeeding!" cried Isabella. "How could you help it
when you're the cleverest girl in New York and work the hardest
and--have such a nice home to stay in at night!"
"It will soon be nicer," rejoined Henrietta with a laugh, "when we get
rid of its mortgage decoration. Now we can get that all paid off by
the end of the summer and then we'll be sure of a home, whatever
happens."
Mrs. Marne pressed her hand in a closer clasp. "Dear child! You and
Bella are the best children a mother ever had. I've just been thinking
that I really have three children, a son as well as two daughters. For
you're just as good as a son, Harry, besides being a daughter too.
When you were born, dear, I was disappointed that you weren't a boy,
and sorry for you that you weren't."
"Were you sorry about me, too?" demanded Isabella saucily.
"You, dear! Why, when you came--you were the first, you know--I was
too proud and delighted to think of anything but just that I had you.
By the time Harry arrived I had learned more about what it means to be
a woman and I was sorry I had brought another into the world. But I
soon got over all that and was so glad to have you both. After all,
girls, it is a grand thing to be a wife and a mother!"
"Yes, if you can only get your salary raised often enough," said
Isabella gaily. "And I guess," she went on as she saw a little wave of
amusement cross her mother's face, "I'd better have that settled right
away. I'll write to Warren that I shall expect an increase every time
Harry gets one. Tell us more about your raise, Harry. What did Mr.
Brand say?"
"Oh, he was very nice--but he always is nice, just as kind and
courteous as can be. He said he was much pleased with the good
judgment and the care with which I had managed things while he was
away. Before this, when he's been gone for a day or two or three, he
has made some arrangements beforehand and has told me where he would
be so that I could telegraph or 'phone him on the long distance if
necessary. But lately he's been called away twice so suddenly that he
left me no directions and I didn't know his address, and so, although
he was gone only two or three days each time, I had a good deal of
responsibility. But he was very kind and praised everything I did and
yesterday he told me that he thought I deserved a reward and as he
might be called away again the same way, he didn't think it was fair
to put so much more upon me without paying me for it."
"Isn't he lovely!" exclaimed Isabella. "As Delia says about Mrs.
Fenlow's chauffeur, 'he's sure very gentlemanly and strong!'"
"Indeed, you've been most fortunate in getting so good a position,
Harry, dear!" said Mrs. Marne, her voice trembling with her depth
of feeling. "I fairly ached with anxiety over your going into this
secretarial work, but Mr. Brand has proved to be all that even his
secretary's mother could expect or wish."
"And here he is, right now!" cried Isabella as she glanced from the
window at the sound of an automobile in the quiet street. "And if he
isn't going to honor our humble but happy home with a call from his
very handsome self!" she went on excitedly as the machine slowed down
and its occupant, glancing at the house numbers, stopped in front of
their cottage.
He told Henrietta that he had just learned it might be necessary
for him to leave town that day and that he wanted to give her some
instructions for her guidance if he should be away more than a day or
two. His manner was disturbed and restless, although not lacking in
its usual suave and gentle courtesy, and she noted in his face, more
strongly marked than she had seen it before, that troubled, anxious
look concerning which she had already wondered much. And from the
whole man there seemed to her to emanate an unconscious appeal, as of
one in such sore and badgering straits that he knew not where to turn
for help.
"I may be able," he said, "to--put off this trip, to make some
arrangement about--this matter, so that it will not be necessary for
me to go. I hope so--I don't want to leave the office just now. And,
by the way, if I do go, there's another thing. If there should be a
letter in my general mail--not marked 'personal,' you know--" he
hesitated, and Henrietta observed that he turned his eyes away and did
not meet her gaze as he went on, "but not of the regular business
sort, just glance at the signature first thing, won't you, please? And
if it should be signed 'Hugh Gordon,' don't read it, but lay it aside
for me to look at when I return."
He straightened up and she could feel the effort of will with which he
conquered his perturbation and continued in a more offhand way:
"Gordon is apt to write confidential things about his own affairs and
he is the sort of man who would never think of marking a letter
'personal.'"
Billikins trotted into the room, his doll in his mouth, and, laying
his burden down in mid-floor, as if to make easier the concentration
of his faculties upon the duty of investigating this stranger,
advanced with signs of ready friendship. Brand responded to his
overtures, but the dog, after a preliminary smell or two, broke into
a sudden howl and trembled as if with fear. Reproved by Henrietta,
he hastened back to his babykins, with which he rushed to a place
of safety beneath her chair. There she heard him giving vent to his
emotions in subdued whining and growling and in much worrying and
tearing of the rag-doll.
Brand rose to go, but lingered beside his chair and made conversation,
as though loath to take his leave; and Henrietta, catching a glimpse
of Isabella passing through the hall, called her in.
Whenever Isabella entered a room it was like the advent of a merry
little breeze. For all the look and manner of her suggested buoyant
spirits and gaiety of heart, from the lurking twinkle in her blue eye
to her light quick step. Daintiness and prettiness characterized her
attire, which she carried gracefully, to the accompaniment of a soft,
faint rustle. With pleasure Henrietta watched her employer's face
brighten and clear as he talked with her sister. The agitation faded
from his manner and presently she was aware that the impression she
had had of struggle and appeal, which had begun to tense her own
nerves, had disappeared.
"I don't wonder," she thought. "Bella is so light-hearted and so
merry, and so pretty and sweet, too, that she could charm away
anybody's dumps. I wish I had some of her gift that way--I'm always
so serious."
Brand suggested that they should take a spin with him in his
automobile. "The day is so fine," he pleaded, as they hesitated a
little before answering. "You don't know how splendid it is! And the
roads are good down through the island." He glanced from one to the
other and Henrietta saw in his brown eyes a look of eager wistfulness.
"It would be lovely and a great treat for us," she said. "You've no
idea, Mr. Brand, what a temptation it is. But we don't like to leave
mother alone, for she's never very well."
"Oh, is that all?" he exclaimed. "Then bring her along! It would do
her a lot of good. Wrap her up well and I'll carry her out to the
auto."
He begged Isabella not to desert him while Henrietta went to prepare
their mother for the drive.
"How well they get on together," said Mrs. Marne, smiling at the gay
laughter that now and then floated up the stairs.
As they came slowly down, the elder woman leaning heavily upon the
other's shoulder, Felix Brand ran into the hall, exclaiming:
"Why didn't you call me and let me bring her down!" And at once,
notwithstanding her assurance that she could walk, he picked her up
and carried her to the street in his arms, saying, "I can just as well
save you that fatigue," and carefully settled her in the automobile.
"You'll sit in the front with me and help me drive, won't you?" he
said to Isabella as the two girls came out cloaked and furred.
"Yes, do, Bella," said Henrietta cordially in response to a glance
from her sister, "and give me a chance to show what good care I can
take of mother."
Although Isabella was the elder of the two by three years and formerly
had been accustomed to take the lead between them, since the younger
had become the support of the family she was beginning, quite
unconsciously, to lean upon and defer to her sister. During the drive
Henrietta and her mother exchanged many pleased glances as they
listened to the merry chatter and the frequent laughter that drifted
back from the front seat. It was a smiling Felix Brand, suave, serene,
and courtly of manner, who helped them from the machine on their
return and carried Mrs. Marne into the house.
"Please don't," he said as they protested their enjoyment of the ride
and their sense of his kindness. "For I assure you it has meant a
great deal more pleasure and benefit to me than it possibly could to
you."
"I think he really meant that," said Henrietta when the three women,
alone again, were talking over what Mrs. Marne called their "little
escapade," "because when he came he seemed so disturbed and depressed
and by the time we got back he was quite himself again. I think it was
mainly you, Isabella," she smiled at her sister, "for you seemed to
have a very stimulating effect on him."
"Oh, I'm willing to be a cocktail for him whenever he wants to bring
his auto over here. Never mind, mother," and she kissed one finger at
Mrs. Marne in response to that lady's shocked "Isabella!" "That's just
modern symbolism, you know. And the ride has made you look as if you'd
had one yourself. I'm going to write to Warren that I've found a much
nicer and handsomer man than he is and if he doesn't get a stronger
grip on my heart right quick it's likely to get away from him."
"Bella, dear! Don't say such things!" admonished her mother in a
grieved tone.
Isabella flew to her side and patted her cheek and kissed her brow.
"There, there, mother! Don't you know I'm just funning? Warren is the
best man in the world, even if he hasn't got bee-youtiful, caressing
brown eyes, and I love him awfully, and we're going to be married and
live happily forever after. But, all the same, Felix Brand is
perfectly lovely, and you think so too, now, don't you, mother dear!"
"We all think alike about Mr. Brand, I'm sure," she answered.
"Except Billikins," amended Henrietta, and then told them of the fox
terrier's disgraceful behavior. "It seemed so queer for him to act
that way," she added, "when he's always so friendly toward visitors
and so effusive that he usually has to be put out of the room."
"It was strange," said Mrs. Marne, "for with his pleasant voice and
gentle manner you would think Mr. Brand would be as attractive to
animals as he certainly is to people. And he must be as kind and
sweet-natured as he seems, for not one young man in a thousand would
have taken the trouble he did to give three forlorn women a little
pleasure."
Henrietta made no reply as she laughed with her mother at the lively
scolding Isabella was giving to the dog, but her thoughts were busy
with the problem of why Felix Brand had seemed so anxious for them to
go with him.
Her loyalty to her employer would not let her throw the least shade
upon their enthusiastic appreciation of his courtesy and kindness. But
her months of work at his side--she had been his secretary almost a
year--had given her an intimate knowledge of his character and of his
habits of thought and feeling.
She had learned that his habitual mental attitude was, "What is there
in this for me?" He did not indeed use just those words or give such
crude expression to his self-centeredness; but she had come to know
that personal advantage was the usual mainspring of his actions.
Presently deciding that Isabella's enlivening effect upon his mood had
inspired his desire for their company, her mind went on to busy itself
with speculation over the cause for his despondency and uneasiness.
"I believe it must have something to do with that Hugh Gordon he
mentioned, whoever he is," she thought. "For he seemed most disturbed
when speaking of him. Maybe it's some relative who is giving him
trouble--some black sheep of his family, very likely."
She walked to the window and stood there silently, her thoughts
hovering around this unknown personality, and became conscious of the
upspringing in her breast of a feeling of disapproval and even of
enmity toward the man because of the trouble he seemed to be giving
to the employer she admired so much and for whose appreciation and
unvarying kindness she felt so much gratitude.
Then there surged over her a wave of discontent, against whose
threatened onslaught she had half consciously been doing battle ever
since she had talked with Felix Brand in the morning. Now it was upon
her. How monotonous seemed her life, how destitute of the pleasures
that most girls had as their right! If she could only use for her own
enjoyment some of that money she worked so hard to earn! But that
everlasting mortgage on their home which had to be paid off--how the
thought of it irked and galled when she longed to travel, buy
beautiful clothes, go to the theatre and the opera, have young friends
and ride and drive and play golf and dance and sing with them. It was
the playtime of life and she was having to spend it in work, work,
work!
"Oh, there isn't anybody who would enjoy all those things as I
should," she thought, "and I want them so!"
She turned impatiently from the window and her glance fell upon her
mother, smiling gently and happily as she lay back in her easy chair,
and remorse entered her heart.
"What an ungrateful little beast I am," she stormed at herself, "to
feel like that when I ought to be thankful I can earn money enough to
keep mother in comfort! Was it because Mr. Brand was here that I felt
that way? Harry Marne, be ashamed of yourself! Aren't you old enough
to be responsible for your own thoughts?"
She sat down beside her mother and taking her hand pressed it tenderly
against her cheek.