VENTURING FORTH
When Roberta entered the breakfast room, she found Gloria and Lena May
there waiting for her. In answer to her question, the oldest sister
replied that Gwen would not unlock her door. Lena May had left her
breakfast on a tray in the hall. "We think she is packing to leave,"
Gloria sighed. "The way Gwen takes our misfortune is the hardest thing
about it."
Bobs, who was ravenously hungry after her early morning ride, was eating
her breakfast with a relish which contrasted noticeably with the evident
lack of appetite shown by her sisters. At last she said: "Glow, I'm not
so sure all this is really a misfortune. If something hadn't happened to
jolt us out of a rut, we would have settled down here and led a humdrum,
monotonous life, going to teas and receptions, bridge parties and
week-ends, played tennis and golf, married and died, and nothing real or
vital would have happened. But, now, take it from me, I, for one, am
going to really live, not stagnate or rust."
Gloria smiled as she hastened to assure her sister: "I agree with you,
Bobs. I'm glad something _has_ happened to make it possible for me to
carry out a long-cherished desire of mine. I haven't said much about it,
but ever since Kathryn De Laney came home last summer on a vacation and
told me about the girls of the East Side who have never had a real chance
to develop the best that is in them, I have wanted to help them. I didn't
know how to go about doing it, not until the crash came. Then I wrote
Kathryn, and you know what happened next. She found a place for me in the
Settlement House to conduct social clubs for those very girls of whom she
had told me."
Both of the listeners noted the eager, earnest expression on the truly
beautiful face of the sister who had mothered them, but almost at once it
had saddened, and they knew that again she was thinking of Gwen. Directly
after breakfast Gloria went once more to the upper hall and tapped on a
closed and locked door, but there was no response from within. However,
the breakfast tray which Lena May had left on a near table was not in
sight, and so, at least, Gwendolyn was not going hungry.
It seemed strange to the two younger girls to be clearing away the
breakfast things and tidying up the kitchen where, for so many years, a
good-natured Chinaman had reigned supreme.
"I'm going to miss Sing more than any servant that we ever had," Bobs was
saying when Gloria entered the kitchen. There was a serious expression on
the face of the oldest girl and Bobs refrained from uttering the
flippancy which had been on the tip of her tongue. Lena May, having put
away the dishes, turned to ask solicitously: "Wouldn't Gwen let you in,
Glow?"
"No, I didn't hear a sound, but the tray is gone." The gentle Lena May
was pleased to hear that.
"Poor Gwen, she is making it harder for herself and for all of us,"
Gloria said; then added, "Are you girls ready to go with me? I'd like to
get over to the city early, after the first rush is over and the midday
rush has not begun."
Exultant Bobs could not refrain from waving the dishcloth she still held.
"Hurray for us!" she sang out. "Three adventurers starting on they know
not what wild escapade. Wait until I change my togs, Glow, and I'll be
with you." Then, glancing down at her riding habit, "Unless this will
do?" she questioned her sister.
"Of course not, dear. We'll all wear tailored suits."
It was midmorning when three fashionably attired girls for the first time
in their lives ascended to the Third Avenue Elevated, going uptown. At
that hour there were few people traveling in that direction and they had
a car almost to themselves. As they were whirled past tenements, so close
that they could plainly see the shabby furniture in the flats beyond, the
younger girls suddenly realized how great was the contrast between the
life that was ahead of them and that which they were leaving. The
thundering of the trains, the constant rumble of traffic below, the
discordant cries of hucksters, reached them through the open windows.
"It's hard to believe that a meadow lark is singing anywhere in the
world," Bobs said, turning to Gloria. "Or that little children are
playing in those meadows," the older girl replied. She was watching the
pale, ragged children hanging to railings around fire escapes on a level
with the train windows.
"Poor little things!" Lena May's tone was pitying, "I don't see how they
can do much playing in such cramped, crowded places."
"I don't suppose they even know the meaning of the word," Bobs replied.
They left the train at the station nearest the Seventy-seventh Street
Settlement. Since Gloria was to be employed there, she planned starting
from that point to search for the nearest suitable dwelling. They found
themselves in a motley crowd composed of foreign women and children, who
jostled one another in an evident effort to reach the sidewalk where, in
two-wheeled carts, venders of all kinds of things salable were calling
their wares. "They must sell everything from fish to calico," Bobs
reported after a moment's inspection from the curbing.
The women, who wore shawls of many colors over their heads and who
carried market baskets and babies, were, some of them, Bohemians and
others Hungarian. Few words of English were heard by the interested
girls. "I see where I have to acquire a new tongue if I am to know what
our future neighbors are talking about," Bobs had just said, when,
suddenly, just ahead of them, a thin, sickly woman slipped and would have
fallen had not a laboring man who was passing caught her just in time.
The grateful woman coughed, her hand pressed to her throat, before she
could thank him. The girls saw that she had potatoes in a basket which
seemed too heavy for her. The man was apparently asking where she lived;
then he assisted her toward a near tenement.
"Well," Bobs exclaimed, "there is evidently chivalry among working men as
well as among idlers."
At the crossing they were caught in a jam of traffic and pedestrians.
Little Lena May clung to Gloria's arm, looking about as though terrorized
at this new and startling experience. When, after some moments' delay,
the opposite sidewalk was reached in safety, Bobs exclaimed gleefully:
"Wasn't that great?" But Lena May had not enjoyed the experience, and it
was quite evident to the other two that it was going to be very hard for
their sensitive, frail youngest sister to be transplanted from her
gardens, where she had spent long, quiet, happy hours, painting the
scenes she loved, to this maelstrom of foreign humanity. There was almost
a pang of regret in the heart of the girl who had mothered the others
when she realized fully, for the first time, what her own choice of a
home location might mean to their youngest. Perhaps she had been selfish,
because of her own great interest in Settlement Work, to plan to have
them all live on the crowded East Side, but her fears were set at rest a
moment later when they came upon a group of children, scarcely more than
babies, who were playing in a gutter. Lena May's sweet face brightened
and, smiling up at Gloria, she exclaimed: "Aren't they dears, in spite of
the rags and dirt? I'd love to do something for them."
"I'd like to put them all in a tub of soap-suds and give them a good
scrubbing for once in their lives," the practical Bobs remarked. Then she
caught Gloria by the arm, exclaiming, as she nodded toward a crossing,
"There goes that chivalrous laboring man. He steps off with too much
agility to be a ditch-digger, or anyone who does hard work, doesn't he,
Glow?"
The oldest sister laughed. "Bobs," she remarked, "I sometimes think that
you are a detective by nature. You are always trying to discover by the
cut of a man's hair what his profession may be."
Bobs' hazel eyes were merry, though her face was serious. "You've hit it,
Glow!" she exclaimed. "I was going to keep it a secret a while longer,
but I might as well confess, now that the cat is out of the bag."
"What cat?" Lena May had only heard half of this sentence; she had been
so interested in watching the excitement among the children caused by the
approach of an organ grinder.
"My chosen profession is the cat," Bobs informed her, "and I suppose my
brain, where it has been hiding, is the bag. I'm going to be a
detective."
Little Lena May was horrified. Detectives meant to her sleuths who
visited underground haunts of crooks of all kinds. "I'm sure Gloria will
not wish it, will you, Glow?"
Appealingly the soft brown eyes were lifted and met the smiling gaze of
the oldest sister. "We are each to do the work for which we are best
fitted," she replied. "You are to be our little housekeeper and that will
give you time to go on with your painting. I was just wondering a moment
ago if you might not like to put some of these black-eyed Hungarian
babies into a picture. If they are clean, they would be unusually
beautiful."
Lena May was interested at once and glanced about for possible subjects,
and so for the time being the startling statement of Bobs' chosen
profession was dropped. They were nearing the East River, very close to
which stood a large, plain brick building containing many windows. "I
believe that is the Settlement House," Gloria had just said, when Bobs,
discovering the name over the door, verified the statement.
A pretty Hungarian girl of about their own age answered their ring and
admitted them to a big cheerful clubroom. Another girl was practicing on
a piano in a far corner. The three newcomers seated themselves near the
door and looked about with great interest. Just beyond were shelves of
books. Bobs sauntered over to look at the titles. "It's a dandy
collection for girls," she reported as she again took her seat.
It was not long before Miss Lovejoy, the matron entered the room and
advanced toward them. The three girls rose to greet her.
Miss Lovejoy smilingly held out a hand to the tallest, saying in her
pleasant, friendly voice, "I wonder if I am right in believing that _you_
are the Miss Gloria Vandergrift who is coming to assist me."
"Yes, Miss Lovejoy, I am, and these are my younger sisters, Roberta and
little Lena May." Then she explained: "We haven't moved into town as yet.
I thought best to come over this morning and find a place for us to live;
then we will have our trunks sent and our personal possessions."
"That is a good idea," the matron said, then asked: "Have you found
anything as yet?"
"We thought, since we are strangers in the neighborhood, that you might
be able to suggest some place for us," Gloria told the matron.
After a thoughtful moment Miss Lovejoy replied: "The tenement houses in
this immediate neighborhood are most certainly not desirable for one used
to comforts. However, on Seventy-eighth Street, there is a new model
tenement built by some wealthy women and it is just possible that there
may be a vacant flat. You might inquire at the office there. You can take
the short-cut path across the playground and it will lead you directly to
the model tenement."
"Thank you, Miss Lovejoy," Gloria said. "We will let you know the result
of our search."