Grace’s thoughts raced madly in the days that followed. She saw
herself in new aspects, dramatized herself in new and fascinating
situations. She was like a child peering into a succession of alluring
shop windows, the nature and value of whose strange wares it only
imperfectly understands. Life was disclosing itself, opening long
vistas before her. As to men she now believed that she knew a great
deal. Confident that she loved Trenton and without regret that she
had confessed her love she did not question her happiness. She lived
in a paradise whose walls were fashioned of the stuff that dreams are
made of. It pleased her to think of herself as a figure of romance
and she got from the public library several novels in which young
women, imaginably like herself, had given their all for love. She was
satisfied that her own case was far more justifiable than those of
these heroines.
Her heart was filled with kindness toward all the world. On the day
that brought her Trenton’s first letter she went to her father’s new
shop in the Power Building carrying lunch for two from a cafeteria.
Her father’s silence in his hours at home, his absorption in his
scientific books, had for her an increasing pathos. Mrs. Durland
referred not infrequently to the fallen estate of the family in terms
well calculated to wound him from the very tone of helpless resignation
in which they were uttered.
Durland pushed his hat back on his head and stared as Grace appeared in
the door of his little shop.
“What’s the matter, Grace? Anything happened?” he asked with his
bewildered air.
“Not a thing, daddy. I just thought I’d come around and have lunch; so
here’s sandwiches for two.”
“I never eat lunch,” he said, turning reluctantly from the bench at
which he had been at work.
“Well, you’re going to today!”
Over his protests she cleared a space on the bench and laid out the
contents of her package--sandwiches, cakes and apples. She dusted off a
chair for him and then swung herself on to the bench within easy reach
of the food. She ignored his warning that there was grease on the bench
and flung him a paper napkin.
“The banquet’s begun! Now proceed and tell me how every little thing’s
a going.”
“Just about the same, Grace. I’m working on an idea or two. Not sure
yet just what I’ve got, but I think maybe I’m on to something that’ll
turn out big.”
“You’re bound to, daddy! You work so hard!”
“Cummings may have scrapped me too soon,” he muttered and looked at her
with an ironic grin and a fanatical gleam in his eyes that caused her
to wonder for a moment whether from his lonely brooding he might not be
going mad.
A man came in to see about some patterns he had ordered. They were not
ready and even while Durland expressed his regret at the delay Grace
saw that his thoughts were still upon his inventions. The customer
manifested impatience, remarking angrily as he left that if his work
wasn’t ready the next day he would take it elsewhere.
“Really, daddy, you oughtn’t to keep people waiting when you take their
jobs. If you’ll only build up this pattern and model business you can
make a good thing of it.”
“You’re right, Grace. But I can’t keep my mind off my own work. I know
all the weaknesses of my old things that Cummings is making. I’m going
to put him out of business!”
“That’s all right, but you mustn’t take jobs for other people unless
you mean to do them right away. This place is in an awful mess!”
As she began straightening up a litter of papers on one end of the
bench a bill for the rent of the room caught her eye.
“Don’t look at these things, Grace!” he pleaded, as he tried to snatch
the bill. “I’ll be able to pay that in a day or two. I got a check
coming for a model and it’ll cover the rent.”
Her questioning elicited the information that the check had been
expected for several weeks and that the man for whom the model had been
made left town without leaving his address.
“It seems pretty uncertain, daddy, and this rent’s three weeks over
due. I have a little money in the trust company and I’ll send my check
for it.”
“I don’t like taking your money, Grace,” he said as she thrust the bill
into her purse.
“Don’t you worry about that. I’d be ashamed if I didn’t help you when
you’ve always been so good to me.”
“I don’t see where I’ve done much for you. I never expected you girls
would have to work. You know I’m sorry, Grace!”
“Well, I’m perfectly happy, so don’t you worry.”
She took his old-fashioned watch from his pocket and noted the time.
“I’ve got to skip.”
“Nice of you to come round, Grace; but you’re always good to me. By
the way, I guess you’d better not tell your mother about the rent. She
wouldn’t like my taking your money.”
“Then we won’t say a word!” She whispered, touched by his fear of her
mother’s criticisms. She flung her arms about him and hugged him till
he cried for mercy.
Her savings account was further depleted the next Saturday. She was
surprised to find Roy waiting for her when she left the department at
her lunch hour.
“No, sis; I didn’t write I was coming. I’ve got to go back on the first
train.”
“But of course you’ll see mother!”
“Well, I thought I might call her up,” he said evasively.
“Call her up!” Grace repeated sharply. “If you’re not going out home
don’t call her! She’d never forgive you. Come and have lunch with me so
we can talk.”
Roy Durland was tall and fair, a handsome young fellow, though his face
might have been thought too delicate, a trifle too feminine. One would
have known that as a child he had been pointed out as a very pretty boy.
“I hate like thunder bothering you, sis,” he began when they were
seated in the lunch room. “But I’m up against it hard. Harry Sayles and
I got a car from Thornton’s garage the other night and took a couple of
girls out for a ride. It was Harry’s party,--he was going to pay for
the machine. Well, we were letting ’er go a pretty good clip, I guess,
when something went wrong with the steering gear and we ran smash into
a barn and mussed things up considerable. Harry and Freda Barnes were
on the front seat and got cut up a little. We had to wake up a farmer
and telephone to Thornton to send out for us. Thornton wants fifty
dollars to cover his damage and of course I’ve got to stand half of it;
that’s only square. He’s pretty ugly about it and says if we don’t come
through with the money he’ll take it up with the college people. Now I
know, Grace,--”
“Yes, you know you have no business going on joy rides, particularly
with a boy like Harry Sayles who’s always in nasty scrapes! Who’s Freda
Barnes? I don’t remember a student of that name.”
“Well, she isn’t exactly a student,” Roy replied, nervously buttering
a piece of bread, “but she’s a perfectly nice girl. She works in
Singleton’s store.”
“That’s one girl; who was the other?”
“Sadie Denton; you must remember her; she was cashier in Fulton’s for a
while.”
“No; I never heard of her,” said Grace eyeing him coldly. “You
know plenty of nice girls on the campus and plenty of decent,
self-respecting boys. There’s not the slightest excuse for you. I
suppose Harry provided the whiskey. There _was_ whiskey of course.
Come, out with the truth about it!”
“Well,” Roy admitted shamefacedly, “we did have a bottle but we didn’t
drink enough of it to make any difference. Really, Grace, it was an
accident; no one could have helped it.”
“I’m not so sure of that. I understand now why you didn’t want to
show yourself at home. The day I left college you promised to behave
yourself and put in your best licks on your work and already you’re
mixed up in a nasty scrape. It would break mother’s heart if she knew
it. Mother’s crazy about you; she’d sacrifice all the rest of us for
you, and you evidently don’t appreciate it at all!”
“I understand all that, sis. I told you I’d be glad to quit and let you
stay on and finish. My hanging on in the law school is all a mistake.”
“Well, don’t whimper! It’s too late to weaken now. You were old enough
to know what you were doing when you took up the law. It begins to look
as though you simply wanted to hang on at the university to loaf and
have a good time. You don’t deserve any pity for getting into a mess
like this. I suppose the story’s all over the campus.”
“I don’t think so,” he answered quickly, with hope lighting his eyes.
“Thornton promised to keep his mouth shut if we’d pay his bill. And
Harry and the girls won’t talk.”
“I imagine not! And you’re letting me into the secret merely in the
hope of getting twenty-five dollars out of me.”
“Don’t be so hard on me, Grace! I know I’m a fool and haven’t sense
enough to say no when anybody asks me to do things like that. But if
you’ll help me out this time I swear never to bother you again.”
“All right, Roy. I haven’t the money here but I’ll walk over to the
trust company with you and get it. But be sure this doesn’t happen
again. I don’t want to rub it in but it may help you to keep straight
if I tell you that it’s just about all we can do to get by at home.
Father is earning nothing; the family’s clean busted. Mother’s pinching
and denying herself to be ready to give you a start when you leave the
law school. I’m not complaining; I’m only telling you this because I
don’t think you mean to make it any harder for the rest of us than you
can.”
“It’s all a silly mistake,” he said dully, “this trying to make a
lawyer of me. I’ve a good notion to have it out with mother now and
tell her I’ve come home to stay.”
“If you do you’re the rankest kind of quitter! You could have refused
to take up the law when you graduated from college, but now that you
have only a few more months you’ve simply got to make good. Mother
would die of humiliation if you stopped. Come along; we’ve got to step
lively.”
“Now, Roy,” she said as she gave him the money at the teller’s window:
“Please behave yourself!”
He left her at the store, repeating his promises that he would never
again ask her for money and assuring her that he would make the most of
his time for the remainder of the year.
She had dealt with him more severely than it was in her heart to do
and she was a little sorry that she hadn’t shown more tolerance for
his misadventure. Fairly considered, his joy-riding with undesirable
companions was hardly more censurable than her participation in Kemp’s
party at The Shack, a matter as to which her conscience was still at
times a little tender.