Sometimes a storm will settle the atmosphere, for a time, and it seemed
as though Patterson Greeves’ summary dismissal of the house party had
really subdued Athalie and made life bearable, and even almost pleasant
at times in Silver house.
There had been a stormy scene the next morning between Athalie and her
father, but his brief experience in dealing with the young hoodlums the
night before had seemed to give him confidence. He laid down the law in
no uncertain manner to the young woman, who went through various stages
of rebellion, to argument, then pleading and finally surrender.
“But I told you about that house party when I first arrived and you
never said a word. You had no right to come in and raise a row
afterwards,” had been her opening sentence of the interview, spoken with
stormy eyes.
She left the library with downcast countenance and a promise to
apologize to Silver for her insolence of the night before, a condition
of her further remaining in the house.
“Although I hate her just as much as ever and always shall!” she added
as she was about to close the door behind her.
Her father thought it as well to let this sentiment go unanswered, and
Athalie went up to Silver’s door, walked in without knocking and
announced:
“My father sent me to apologize.” Having said it she slammed the door
after her and departed, leaving Silver no opportunity to reply.
Thus matters had settled into a semblance of amity between them. The
conversation at the table consisted in animated talk between Silver and
her father, and absolute silence on the part of Athalie whenever her
sister was present. The two girls walked their separate ways as much as
if they were in separate spheres. Silver made one or two unsuccessful
attempts to bridge over this chasm between them and finally settled down
to forget it and be happy.
Silver was living a rich and beautiful life, entering into the church
work of the new community with zest and rare tact, already beloved by
everyone, and spoken of often as being like her great aunt Lavinia.
The minister was a frequent visitor at the house, going often on hikes
and fishing trips with Greeves, and spending long hours in discussions
on political, scientific, and on rare occasions, religious subjects; and
often Silver was a third member of the party on these occasions. But the
minister was a busy man and did not make his visits to Silver house too
noticeable. It was fortunate for him that Aunt Katie’s back fence joined
the Silver garden, and that the high hedge made passing possible without
calling the attention of the neighbors, for Silver Sands was very
jealous of their minister, and would never let him pay more attention to
one family or individual without an equal amount somewhere else. Much of
his friendship with Silver and her father was carried on in the evening,
or morning when they had taken a tramp to the woods and come on the
minister, also sometimes when there was no school, with the addition of
Blink and his dog.
Athalie had begun to take a real if rather puzzled interest in high
school. At first she had attempted to become a leader, had even offered
to furnish cigarettes and teach the girls to smoke, telling them they
were far behind the times, but this resulted in an instant aloofness on
the part of the girls of the better class. Emily Bragg being the only
one who really accepted the offer and attached herself to Athalie like a
leech.
This was no part of Athalie’s plan. She retired from the field as leader
and studied the situation for a few days. She began slowly to perceive
that she would never be accepted nor welcomed as long as she lifted her
own standards. She must accept the standards of Silver Sands or count
herself as an outsider forever.
Experimentally she made an attack on the boys, and found to her
amazement that they too had standards. They might not be exactly the
same as their sisters’, and there were some few among them who were
ready surreptitiously to meet her half way and laugh with her, yet on
the whole, she was losing rather than gaining in influence, because for
some unaccountable reason even the boys seemed to feel that she was
unclassing herself. She sat down to ponder and decided that it was the
old-fashioned town and that it was hopeless. Whereupon she brushed her
hair a long time one day and began to curl the ends under and teach it
to be “put up.” She ceased even the surreptitious application of
cosmetics applied on the way to school since her father’s distinct
command had put an end to a careful make up before her own mirror. Her
eyebrows began to grow in their legitimate place, with a strange
likeness to Patterson Greeves’ and altogether she took on a more
wholesome look in every way.
Saturday mornings, at Silver’s suggestion, Patterson Greeves made it a
point to be at home and to take Athalie to the country club for a round
of golf. Even when she grew more intimate with her school mates and
found some of her amusement in their Saturday picnics and little round
of simple parties she never failed to accept his invitations for golf
with alacrity. At such times there were flashes of something like real
affection in her eyes, although he was usually too preoccupied to notice
her. Indeed he would often have forgotten the engagement if Silver had
not reminded him.
Greeves had sought to induce Athalie to eat more wholesome food. He had
hunted out a diet menu and urged it upon her, and in some degree she had
acquiesced, though he found her often with surreptitious boxes of candy,
or taking more cake at tea than the law allowed. It was not until Barry
again wielded his influence that she really got at it and began to show
a loss in weight.
It was one Saturday morning that she had at last decided to try her
father on the subject of knickers. She came down nonchalantly arrayed in
them, and announced herself ready for the country club. Her father
looked up from a page he was correcting with an annoyed frown upon his
brow. He had forgotten that it was Saturday and was exceedingly anxious
to finish the theme he was at work upon. He took her in, knickers and
all, and laid down his papers with a stern look on his face.
“You’ll have to go by yourself if you’re going to wear those things!” he
said sharply. “It’s strange you don’t know what a figure you cut in
them. You’re too stout for any such rig!”
Athalie cut to the heart as she always was when her figure was
criticized, turned with a shrug and a flip and an “oh, very well!” and
flung out of the room.
Her father settled back to his writing again, thinking that probably she
had gone to change, but as she did not return he became absorbed once
more and forgot all about it.
Athalie meantime, had stamped out of the front door, down the street,
and was making her way swiftly to the old log in the woods, the only
refuge she knew outside the house where she would probably meet no one
and would be free to cry her heart out and wonder what had become of
Lilla. She had not had word from Lilla since they parted.
She was sitting on the log weeping with long quivering sobs when
suddenly she felt a hand upon her shoulder and looking up she saw that
Barry was sitting beside her.
“What’s the matter kid, has anything happened? Anyone been treating you
mean?”
She lifted eyes that were brimming with tears, and there was something
childish and almost sweet about her helpless young despair.
“You poor kid,” he said again, “what’s the matter?”
He fished a moment in all his pockets, then brought out from the breast
pocket of his brown flannel shirt a neatly folded clean handkerchief.
“I thought I had a blotter,” he remarked, and moving up gently proceeded
to wipe the tears from her eyes.
In a moment he had her smiling through her tears with his bright
remarks.
“Oh, there’s nothing much the matter,” said the girl relapsing into her
despondency. “I guess I’m only mad. Dad called me fat, and I hate it! He
said he wouldn’t go with me in my knickers. He said I looked awful!”
Barry surveyed the garments in question.
“Does make you look sort of wide,” he admitted. “Must be a lot easier to
walk in than skirts though. I like ’em. Why don’t you get thinner, kid?
It’s easy. I can tell you what to eat. We tried it one year when we
wanted to run. Listen. I’ll write it down for you.”
“I hate spinach!” remarked Athalie coldly.
“Oh, well, that doesn’t cut any ice kid! When you get skinny you’ll be
glad. Try a month and get weighed and see what a difference it makes.”
They talked for sometime and Athalie finally agreed to try it. Then they
drifted into more personal talk and Barry said he wished she’d come and
see his mother sometime.
Athalie told him about her mother being off in Europe somewhere. She
spoke drearily and the boy read much between the lines that she did not
dream she was telling. He was quick to read the heart-hunger and
yearning in her voice. There was much that was comforting in his cheery
tone and the way he talked of common things. Athalie soon sat up and
began to smile. Somehow the world looked brighter and life more possible
even without chocolates. Barry said again he wished she would come and
see his mother, and this time she said she would, and almost thought
perhaps she meant it. It would be interesting to see what kind of a
mother Barry had.
Then suddenly the boy stood up quite sharply as if he had but just
thought about it.
“But I oughtn’t to let you stay here,” he said. “Your father might not
like it. Why don’t you go home and put on the togs he likes. It won’t
take you long. Wait till you get skinny and then wear these again.”
“They won’t fit me,” giggled Athalie. She was growing quite light
hearted.
“Come on over this way. I’ll show you a short cut home, and you won’t
need to pass the fire house. There’s always a lot of crows there waiting
to pick the flesh off your bones.”
“Maybe that would be quicker than dieting,” laughed Athalie brightly.
“You bet it would!” said Barry, “we won’t try that way this time. They’d
make remarks if an angel flew by. Now come on down by the creek. It’s
pretty there. Have you ever seen the rapids? Not very rapid, but it
takes some strength to get a canoe up ’em. Some day we’ll get your
sister and take a canoe jaunt.”
But at that Athalie’s brow darkened and her chin went up. “I don’t think
she’d care to go,” she said, stiffly. “She’s all taken up with doing
things down in that Frogtown place.”
“Oh, wouldn’t she?” Barry’s voice was disappointed. Athalie looked at
him jealously. The sun seemed to have grown gray. Her loneliness had
settled down anew.
Barry was tactful for one so young. He saw that for some reason she did
not want the sister. He turned the subject immediately to the day and
the beauties about them.
“There’s a squirrel up in that tree that throws nuts down on me when I’m
fishing sometimes,” he said. “Do you like to fish? Why don’t you come
along with your father? He and the minister often come up here. Your
sister was along last time.”
Ah! It was the sister! Athalie stiffened perceptibly.
“There he goes now, look!”
Athalie looked up while the boy talked, pointing out the squirrel
harbor, telling how the squirrels stored their nuts, how they often ran
up the tree with a mouthful of leaves to stuff in their harbor for a
bed.
“See that branch of scarlet leaves up there!” exclaimed the boy
suddenly. “It’s early for them to turn red, but aren’t they peachy?
Shall I get them for you?”
He was off up the tree in no time, nimble as a squirrel himself up, up,
and up, till the girl watching felt dizzy for him, then out on a
hazardous limb, and whipping his knife from his pocket. Presently down
came the splendid branch, fluttering like thousands of scarlet blossoms,
and fell at her feet.
She stooped and picked it up wonderingly. It was almost the first time
in her life she had gathered trophies from the woods, the first time any
boy had presented her with anything so glorious and so wild.
Barry was down again in a trice as if it had been nothing to climb like
that, and was walking beside her telling her about the scarlet maples in
the fall. Then all at once he turned and pointed.
“Now, you go across that meadow. When you get to the corner of the board
fence turn to the right next the pasture and go straight ahead. You’ll
find your house just ahead of you, and nobody will get a chance to see
who you are before you are at home. I won’t go with you. It will be
better not. Those Vandemeeters have eyes all over the house. Here! Do
you want this junk?”
Athalie with her arms full of the gorgeous leaves made her way slowly
across the sod of the pasture, and around the corner of the fence
thinking over all that had happened, wondering why the boy didn’t come
all the way with her, why he minded those old Vandemeeters, getting a
thought of his reasons into her soul, comparing them with all her father
had said, resolving to try again, and saying over as she entered her own
gate. “Spinach! Spinach! How I hate it!”
The spring deepened into summer and school had closed. Athalie felt
lost. Her father was immersed in his book and had little time for golf.
Mary Truman and her mother and brother had gone away to the mountains
for a month, several of the other girls were visiting relatives in the
country or at the seashore, or taking little trips. She had to stay
around the house and garden. Always there was Silver everywhere in the
way. She did not get any nearer to Silver.
Barry came one day and took Silver away in the minister’s car to see a
sick child two miles out of town. The minister had sent for her to come
and bring some broth. They all came home together with a sheaf of golden
rod and got out with much laughter and chatter. Athalie from the upper
window watched them. There was a look in Bannard’s eyes as he helped
Silver from the car that made her suddenly feel all alone in the world.
Barry too! He came in after them carrying flowers. Silver had a heap of
velvet moss in her hands dotted with scarlet berries. She was carrying
it carefully. The minister put out his hand to catch a falling spray of
the vine whereon the berries grew. Barry was close, with deep admiration
in his face. He answered something Silver said and flashed his beautiful
smile. Silver on the step above him broke a tiny spray of golden rod
from the armful he had just handed her and stooping fastened it in his
buttonhole. She could not hear the byplay of words that went with the
act, she could only see the flush of pleasure on Barry’s face, the
tender smile on Bannard’s, Silver’s look of utter joy and content. A
pang of jealousy like to none she had ever felt before shot through her
undisciplined heart. Her face was almost distorted with hate, and the
red hot tears went coursing down her face so that she could not see
Barry and the minister as they went back to the car. They had not asked
for her. They had not either of them suggested that she go along. If
Barry had done so when he came for Silver she would have gone. This once
she would have gone, if just to keep Silver from riding in the front
seat with Barry. But Barry had not asked it. Barry had not cared about
anything except just to make her safe for her father’s sake, and to make
her get thin, so her father would be pleased. Nobody cared for her!
Her young lonely soul raged fiercely within, going over and over the
doleful situation, until she scarcely knew what she was doing, and
suddenly a gentle hand touched her on the shoulder.
“Athalie, dear! You are crying! Is there anything I can do to help you?”
It was Silver in her white dress with her arms full of golden rod, come
softly up the stairs on her rubber shod feet, and finding Athalie still
at the hall window.
Athalie turned in a fury of anger to be caught this way, and shook off
the gentle hand.
“Don’t you dare to touch me!” she hissed. “I _hate_ you!”
“Athalie!”
“Yes, _Athalie_!” mocked the angry girl. “You mealy-mouthed hypocrite!
You liar! You thief! That’s it! You are a _thief_!”
“Athalie, what has got into you?” asked Silver in dismay. “What on earth
can you mean? What have I done to annoy you?”
Athalie had not been in such a fury since the night she spoiled the
painting. She was simply blind with rage.
“Done! done!” she screamed, “it isn’t enough that you stole my father
away. Stole him! Stole him! You had no right to him! He gave you away,
and you had your home, and you had people that loved you! You had a
grandfather and grandmother. I never had any grandfather or grandmother
or anybody. My mother never loved me!” Her tone was growing higher and
more excited. The pent up anguish of the weeks was breaking forth in a
flood. Silver lifted up a hand and tried to make her listen, but she
rushed on in a torrent of words.
“She went away and left me to come here alone. She hasn’t written to me.
She doesn’t love me. And I came here to find a father. I would have made
him love me. Yes, I could, if you hadn’t poked your nose in and got
ahead of me. You had no right. He had given you up. You thought just
because you had that old Silver name—”
“Athalie!” said Silver compassionately, but Athalie was beyond hearing.
“Don’t speak to me. _I hate you!_” she raved on. “It wasn’t enough that
you stole my father, and the house, and are trying to get the money and
Mr. Bannard, but you have to steal my only friend!”
Her head went down on the window frame and she sobbed aloud.
“What do you mean, Athalie? I haven’t stolen any friend away from you!”
said Silver in a puzzled indignant voice.
“Yes, you have. You’ve stolen Barry. He was nice to me. He brought me
back when I was going to run away and get married!”
“Athalie!”
“Oh, you needn’t Athalie me! I guess I could have done it if I wanted
to, and now I wish I had. I would have got out of this old hole anyway.
Isn’t Mr. Bannard enough for you? Why can’t you let Barry alone? You
pretend to be so loving and all, calling me _dear_, and all that mush,
and yet you spoil every nice time I try to have. It was you spoiled my
house party! You can’t deny that! And you’re at the bottom of my having
to wear frumpy old-fashioned clothes. If you hadn’t come here dressed
like a mouse my father wouldn’t have known the difference. He just wants
me to dress like you, and I won’t! So there! But I won’t stand your
making eyes at everybody that likes me either. Look how you did when I
had the house party! Carried all the boys off downstairs and flirted
with them. Got everyone of them crazy about you. Oh, but the girls were
furious about that.”
Under the torrent of words which she could not stay Silver suddenly
collapsed into a chair and dropped her face into her hands.
“Oh, yes! That makes you ashamed doesn’t it? You don’t like it put like
that. Well, why can’t you marry somebody and get away? I’ve been waiting
and waiting for you and Mr. Bannard to get things fixed up so you would
get out of the house and let me have a real home for once in my life.”
Silver lifted a white face and listened sternly.
“Athalie! Stop! You mustn’t say such things. They are disgraceful. The
neighbors will hear!”
“I don’t care if they do! I hope they will!”
“Athalie, if you will stop I will go away!”
“Well, go, go! Why don’t you go then? You don’t mean it at all, you know
you don’t. You intend to stay right here and spoil my life. I came here
to try and get my father to marry my mother over again. She didn’t know
it, but I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ve always wanted a home like
other girls and a real father and mother! And then when I got here I
found you! What good do you suppose it would do me to get my father to
see my mother again while you were here? She wouldn’t come here with
you! She would hate you too, worse than I do. She would smile and do
something terrible to you. That’s Lilla! But she would never come here
with you here! Oh I shall never have a real home nor anybody that loves
me!” She suddenly broke away from the window with a wild sob and darted
toward the door of her own room.
Silver turned putting out her arms to try and stop her.
“Athalie! Let me speak! I will go! I did not understand before.”
But Athalie broke away fiercely.
“Well, _go_ then!” she shouted and slammed her door so that it
reverberated through the house like thunder.
Down in the kitchen Anne Truesdale and Molly stopped working and looked
at one another anxiously.
“It’s Miss Athalie got one of her tantrums again!” said Molly in an awed
whisper.
“Well, the master’s coming home early tonight, praise be!” said Anne,
and tiptoed to the door to listen. But all was still up stairs.
Silver was in her room with the door shut, kneeling beside her bed.