"Why!" exclaimed Jennie as she grudgingly shook hands with her
step-mother when Margaret returned with her to the sitting-room. "You
_here_! We saw Danny downtown just now and he said he gave you money
to get home."
"Yes," added Sadie, also shaking hands reluctantly, "we didn't look to
see you here. Anyhow _Danny_ thought you went to the depot from his
office."
"But," smiled Margaret, "she gave me the pleasant surprise of a call.
I am so glad, because I wanted so much to know her, my husband's mother
and the babies' grandmother! How pretty your flowers look, Sadie!" she
added diplomatically and quite insincerely, for she groaned inwardly at
the bunch of little artificial roses Sadie girlishly wore on the lapel
of her coat.
"What is _this_ to do?" Jennie suddenly demanded as her eyes fell upon
the tea-table.
"We've been having tea and toast."
"Well!" breathed Sadie.
"Upon my word!" exclaimed Jennie. "You stopped Emmy in her Sa'urday's
work to make tea and toast in the middle of the afternoon yet!"
"It took her just fifteen minutes."
"She ain't ever to be hindered in her Sa'urday's work! She has a cake
to bake for Sunday then!"
"But you know," said Margaret patiently, "you stopped her on wash day
to make tea for Mrs. Ocksreider."
"Well, but Mom ain't used to tea in the afternoon and Mrs. Ocksreider
is. Anyhow, who's keeping house here, Margaret?"
"But surely I may have a cup of tea with your mother if I wish to, in
this house!"
"But it up-mixes my accounts when you do somepin like this. Danny pays
half of all the expenses here and Sadie and I pay half."
"Oh, I see," Margaret breathed rather than spoke. "But after all,
Jennie, it's quite a simple matter--charge the tea, sugar, milk, bread,
and butter to Daniel's side of your account and I'll take the
responsibility of it."
Jennie turned abruptly to her step-mother. "It's getting late on you,
Mom, to get out home. You don't want to get there after dark, with a
half a mile to walk from the station yet. Before I take off my coat
and hat, I better see you on the street car that'll take you to the
depot for the five o'clock train."
"Yes, Jennie," the old woman submissively answered, "I was just a-goin'
to start to go when you come."
She rose with an effort from the comfortable chair before the fire in
which Margaret had again placed her. But Margaret at once pressed her
back into her seat.
"You will be glad to know, Jennie, that I have persuaded mother to
spend the night with us," she said, "as she is too tired from her
journey to go back before to-morrow."
[Illustration: "You will be glad to know, Jennie, that I have persuaded
mother to spend the night with us," Margaret said]
"She never stops the night with us, Margaret," Jennie coldly returned.
"Come on, Mom, I'll put you on the street car."
"But isn't it nice," cried Margaret, holding her arm around Mrs.
Leitzel to keep Jennie off, "that I've succeeded in _coaxing_ her to
stay to-night? Such a pleasant surprise for Daniel when he comes home,
to find you here, dear! What is home without a grandmother? Good
discipline for Daniel, too, to have to give up this armchair for one
evening! Even I have to get out of it when he wants it. But naturally
he can't put his _mother_ out of the only really comfortable chair in
the house."
"But Danny paid for that chair," explained Sadie. "It would be
funny--ain't?--if he couldn't sit in his own chair when he wants!"
"The spare-room bed ain't made up," Jennie frowned at Margaret. "And
nobody has time to make it up at four o'clock on Saturday afternoon!
Anyhow, strangers stopping over night is apt to give Sadie the
headache. And Mom never _wants_ to be away from her own bed. She
won't can home herself in a strange bed, can you, Mom?"
But Margaret spoke before Mrs. Leitzel could reply. "_I'll_ make up
the guest bed. It won't take me ten minutes. Mother"--she patted Mrs.
Leitzel's shoulder--"I'll be right downstairs again in ten minutes."
But Mrs. Leitzel clung to her hand. "Don't let me alone with--stay by
me, Margaret----" she pitifully pleaded.
"You shall come upstairs with me, then, to my room," Margaret said,
helping her, now, to rise to her feet.
"No, Margaret, Mom's to go back on the five o'clock train," affirmed
Jennie peremptorily. "Our Danny give her the money to go back. It
ain't for _you_ to be using our clean linens to make up the spare bed.
Come on, Mom."
Jennie laid an ungentle grasp upon her step-mother's arm, but Margaret,
her face suddenly ablaze with indignation, confronted her.
"Jennie! This is my husband's home, and his feeble mother shall be his
guest and mine until to-morrow morning."
"She ain't his mother, she ain't even a blood relation. And what right
have _you_, I'd like to know, to meddle in our family affairs?" Jennie
fiercely demanded. "It's just your con_tra_riness that makes you want
to do everything that you see will spite us; for what other reason
would a person like you have for taking up with an uneducated old woman
like Mom? You wouldn't _look_ at a person like her if it was not to
spite us!"
"What right have I? The right of the humane to protect the helpless
from brutality, under any and all circumstances, without exception.
She shall not leave this house to-day!"
"Now, Mom," Sadie turned on her step-mother, "you see what you make by
coming here like this, without leaving us know! Ain't you worrying us
enough all the time, without raising more trouble between us and
Danny's wife yet?"
"Yes, yes, I'll go. Please, my dear"--she turned to Margaret,--"leave
me go. I'd rather die on the way home than stay and make it unhappy
for you, Margaret! Danny will take up for them, you know, so I can't
stay and make trouble. Leave me go, my dear!"
"But if you don't make your mother welcome here," Margaret addressed
both Jennie and Sadie, "I shall have to go with her. I can take her to
Catherine Hamilton's for the night. Or," she added with sudden
inspiration, "to Mrs. Ocksreider's, and ask _her_ if she won't give her
a bed until the morning. She shall not take that journey to-night!"
Jennie glared in baffled fury, while Sadie turned white with dismay.
"Danny won't leave you do such an outrageous thing!" the elder sister
said hoarsely.
"Daniel can't stop me. Come, mother."
"You don't mean to say you'd do as mean a thing as that--take _Mom_ to
_Mrs. Ocksreider's_!"
"But I am so sure that Mrs. Ocksreider is the very person who would be
very glad to receive her for the night."
"You up and tell me to my face you'd disgrace us like that!"
"But where would the _disgrace_ come in?" asked Margaret innocently.
"Where would the disgrace come in?" repeated Jennie hotly. "_Don't_
you see any disgrace in telling Mrs. Ocksreider that we won't leave our
mother (even if she is our step-mother) sleep at our place over night?"
"Then you admit that you _are_ acting disgracefully in turning her out?"
"You wait till Danny comes home and he'll show you if you can go
against me like this in his house!" Jennie violently threatened, more
furious than ever at being trapped by her own words. "Now you leave
Mom be till I take her out to the car!"
"No, Jennie, if she goes I go with her--to our friend, Mrs. Ocksreider.
Therefore, it behooves you----"
But it was just at this instant that the sitting-room door opened and
Daniel walked into their midst.
"Margaret! I've got an automobile at the door. Get your hat----"
He stopped short in astonishment at sight of his step-mother, at
Margaret's attitude of shielding her against the evidently furious
antagonism of Jennie and the cold disapproval of Sadie.
"Well?" he demanded testily. "What's up? How did you get up _here_,
mother?"
"Yes, how did she, when you gave her the money to go home yet?" scolded
Sadie.
Margaret, leaving the statement of the situation to Jennie, remained
silent.
"Who brought you up here?" Daniel inquired of the old woman.
"I come by myself, Danny. I wanted to see your wife and the twinses,
and I conceited I'd be gone before the girls got home. But I'll go
right aways now. I'm sorry I come. I didn't want to make no
trouble--I----"
She made a movement from Margaret's side, but the latter clasped her
firmly.
"Margaret," commanded Daniel, "let her go."
"I have invited her to spend the night here, Daniel. She is not able
to go home to-night."
"I'll take care of that--this is not your affair. Let her alone! Take
your hands off her!"
"Will you let her spend the night here?"
"I said I would take care of that. Take your hands off her."
Margaret obeyed.
"Now come here, mother."
Mrs. Leitzel walked feebly toward him, but Margaret walked beside her.
"Now, you see, Danny, how con_tra_ry she acts!" Jennie broke forth. "I
wanted to take Mom out to the trolley car and Margaret would not leave
her come along, when Mom said she _wanted_ to come, too!"
"Well, _I'm_ here now," returned Daniel grimly. "I'll take you to the
station, mother," he pronounced conclusively, taking the old woman's
arm.
"Daniel! Your mother can't go home alone this evening! It will be
cruel of you to send her!"
Daniel, ignoring her, led his mother to the hall.
"I tell you I'm going to stop this cruelty!" cried Margaret, darting
upstairs to get her wraps.
She was down again almost immediately, her coat over her arm, but when
she reached the sidewalk the automobile containing her husband and his
mother was beyond her reach.
"I may be able to get to the station before that five o'clock train!"
she thought, starting almost on a run to go the length of the town to
the depot, putting on her coat and gloves as she went. "I believe his
mother will die on the way if she goes, and has to walk that half-mile
alone in the dark, after being subjected to all this horrible scene!
Oh, my God! What people they are!"
She realized, on her way, that her purse was empty, her monthly
allowance having been spent, and that she had not even money for
trolley car fares--a serious handicap in her efforts to help Mrs.
Leitzel.
When, panting for breath, a sharp pain in her side, she reached the
station, the train to Martz was just pulling out.
Daniel, smiling blandly, came toward her along the platform.
"God help me!" was the cry of her heart, "that I cannot even hate
him--he is too utterly pitiable! If I could hate him, there might be
some hope for us!"
"Want to take a little ride, my dear?" he inquired, waving his hand to
the waiting automobile.
"Take me home," she returned weakly, feeling suddenly collapsed and
helpless.
"You know," he said as he helped her into the car, "you ought not to
excite yourself like this--it's bad for Daniel Junior's milk--about
something, too, that is no concern of yours. And I want to warn you
also," he added, lowering his voice so that the chauffeur might not
hear him, as the car turned into the street, "that you've _got_ to
refrain from offending Jennie and Sadie so constantly. They have a
_lot_ of money to leave to our children. Keep on offending them as you
are doing and they'll will all they have to Hiram's children!" said
Daniel in a tone that expressed all the horror that such a possibility
contained for him.
Margaret did not reply.
"You get me?" Daniel inquired.
"Considerations like that, Daniel, have never entered into my
philosophy of life, thank God!"
"Margaret, you really must break yourself of this dreadful habit of
swearing! It's so unladylike! And so unchristian!"
"Oh, my good Lord, Daniel! Don't dare to talk to me about anything's
being 'unchristian,' when you have just done a cruel, _cruel_ thing to
your aged, helpless mother! I don't profess and loudly flaunt _my_
'Christian principles,' but I do believe in the Golden Rule. Evidently
you don't. Don't _speak_ to me!"
"Hoity-toity! Cut out these tantrums, Margaret; they're bad for the
boy, you know."
"Why don't you tell the Y.W.C.A. about your smart 'deal' with your
tenant, George Trout, and your treatment of your step-mother? Maybe
they'd send you another congratulatory letter that you could have
published in the _Intelligencer_."
"You heed my warning about offending Jennie and Sadie," was Daniel's
reply.
"At the time of your father's death was the title of the farm at Martz
vested absolutely in him?"
Margaret had the satisfaction of seeing Daniel start and turn red at
her question, as he turned abruptly and looked at her.
"What makes you ask that?" he nervously demanded.
"Was it?" she repeated.
"Why do you wish to know?"
"It was," she affirmed.
"_How_ do you know?" he sharply questioned.
"That same old Woman's Intuition."
"I insist on your answering me intelligibly! What do you know of
business matters like that anyhow?"
"Not much, but a little."
"Understand, Margaret, once and for all, that my business affairs and
that of my folks are no least concern of yours!"
"_Yours_ are."
"They are not!"
"Oh, yes, they are, Daniel. You and I are life partners and I am the
mother of your heirs. Therefore, I have _every_thing to do with your
business. Neither I nor my children shall live on stolen money."
"Stolen money! You talk to _me_ of 'stolen money,' when I stand in
this community as the one honest, upright, Christian lawyer! Gracious,
Margaret, I certainly expected that after the children were born I'd
have back again the sweet girl I married! I'm beginning to feel that
I've been awfully taken in!"
Margaret leaned back in the automobile, closed her eyes, and did not
answer. During the remainder of the ride the silence between them was
unbroken.