NORA PLAYS A PART
With a long sigh, Nora sank back in the corner of the big limousine,
and tried to think she wasn’t frightened. Her heart was beating in big
thumps, and she was conscious of the fact that she was trembling. Then
she realized that the door of the car was still open, and that the
chauffeur was waiting for orders.
“Home, Miss Kathleen?” he inquired respectfully.
Nora nodded. To have spoken just then would have been impossible. The
chauffeur closed the door, sprang to his seat, and the car started.
Nora leaned forward to catch one more glimpse of the familiar house,
where she knew her mother was watching from the studio window. She
would have waved a cheerful good-bye, just to show Mummy she wasn’t
frightened, but already the car had turned the corner.
“Miss Katleen make very long call.”
At the sound of the gentle voice, Nora turned with a start, to the
pretty, placid young woman, who was occupying the opposite corner.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long,” she faltered, “but--but we had
a good deal to talk about. I hope you weren’t cold.”
“Oh, no, not at all. It is very good of Miss Katleen to tink of dat.
De air is beautiful, and I tink I did take a little sleep. We will not
tell Sarah. She does not tink it right dat one sleeps in de car.”
“No, we won’t tell her,” promised Nora. “She doesn’t suspect anything,”
she added to herself. And then, remembering Kathleen’s instructions not
to talk much, she relapsed into silence which remained unbroken until
they had bowled rapidly across the park, and drawn up at Mr. Crawford’s
door.
“Any more orders, Miss?” inquired the chauffeur, as Nora and Selma
stepped out of the limousine.
“Oh, no, thank you,” said Nora, and the idea that any one should ask
her for orders struck her as so funny that she was seized by a sudden,
almost irresistible desire to laugh. She hurried up the steps rather
faster than might otherwise have been the case, and so failed to see
the look of surprise on the chauffeur’s face.
“My lady’s getting very polite all of a sudden,” he remarked in a low
tone to Selma, but the maid--who was hurrying up the steps after her
charge--did not answer.
Nora remembered the way to the schoolroom, and encountered no one as
she went up the two flights of stairs to the third floor.
“Shall I take de hat?” inquired the gentle Selma, “and will Miss
Katleen like to change her dress?”
“No, thank you,” said Nora. “Yes, I will, though,” she added, with a
sudden inspiration. “I’d like to wear the dress Kath--I mean the one I
wore at the birthday party.” All at once it occurred to Nora that she
was going to enjoy “her part.”
Selma looked very much surprised, but before she could speak, a tall,
thin person, in a black dress, appeared on the scene.
“Indeed you’ll do nothing of the kind, Miss Kathleen,” declared this
person in a very stern, disapproving voice. “Who ever heard of such an
idea! To wear one of your very best dresses at home, where there isn’t
a living soul to look at it! You’ll keep on just what you’ve got. Here,
give me your hat, and then go into the schoolroom, and stay there till
dinner-time. I’m as busy as I can be, fixing over your things in here,
and the whole place is upset.”
Nora said nothing, although she doubted whether Kathleen would have
submitted quite so meekly, and when the tall woman had taken her
outdoor things, and the more respectful Selma had disappeared, she
went into the schoolroom, and began to look about for some means of
passing the time until she should be summoned to dinner. Three minutes
later, she was kneeling before the bookcase, her eyes scanning the long
list of titles with almost hungry delight. Of all things in the world,
Nora loved reading, and never before had it been her privilege to find
herself alone in the presence of such a number of fascinating books.
In her interest in these treasures, she almost forgot, for the moment,
that she was “playing a part.” She examined one book after another;
looked at pictures, turned pages, and finally became so absorbed in an
exciting story that she quite forgot the lapse of time and was only
brought back to her present surroundings by the sound of a voice at her
side.
“Time to take your medicine, Miss Kathleen.”
The tall woman was standing over her, with a glass in her hand, and
a very determined expression on her face. Nora recalled Kathleen’s
mention of “a nasty tonic,” and instinctively shrank back.
“I don’t think I’ll take it this evening,” she faltered; “I feel
perfectly well.”
“You’re not perfectly well even if you do feel so,” snapped Sarah.
“That’s only an excuse, and you know it. The doctor’s orders are that
this medicine is to be taken three times a day for the next two weeks.
Come now, swallow it. The quicker it’s over, the better it’ll be.”
There seemed no help for it, so Nora swallowed the contents of the
glass at a gulp. It certainly was very disagreeable, and she did not
blame Kathleen for objecting to her tonic. Sarah watched her keenly,
but there was neither doubt nor suspicion in her glance.
“That’s a good girl,” she remarked, and there was approval in her tone.
“If you would always take it that way, you wouldn’t mind half so much.
Here’s a peppermint to take away the taste. Now, you’d better put up
those books. It’s dinner-time.”
Meekly, Nora replaced the books she had been examining, and she had
just finished when there came a gentle tap at the door, and the butler
presented himself, with the announcement--
“Dinner is served, Miss.”
“I feel just as if I really were acting in a play,” Nora said to
herself, as she followed the butler down to the dining-room. “I don’t
believe any other girl ever had quite such a funny experience. If I
could only tell the girls at school about it, how interesting it would
be, but I suppose it will always have to be a secret. Oh, what a
beautiful place!”
[Illustration: AND SHE DID ENJOY HERSELF, DESPITE THE STRANGENESS OF IT
ALL.
_Page 85._]
Nora had paused on the threshold of the dining-room, and was gazing in
delighted admiration at the beautiful room, and the table sparkling
with glass and silver.
“Why, it looks as if there were going to be a party!” The words were
out before she could stop them, but the next moment she had realized
her mistake, and was blushing scarlet, as she slipped into the chair
the butler had pushed forward for her. The man looked pleased.
“I am glad you like the table, Miss,” he said, respectfully. “I put on
the pink candle shades, as you requested last night.”
“It was very kind of you,” murmured Nora, then stopped in confusion.
Was it the correct thing to tell butlers they were very kind? She had
never had any experience with a butler before. Well, it was only for
one evening, at any rate, and she was going to enjoy herself.
And she did enjoy herself, despite the strangeness of it all. What a
good dinner that was, and how wonderfully everything was served! First
came a delicious soup, with little pieces of toast floating about in
it. Then fish, with a queer sauce, that burned her tongue, but was
very good, notwithstanding. Then roast chicken, with cranberry jelly,
and several different vegetables. Finally, a delicious dessert, which
seemed to be compounded of every good thing imaginable, all mixed up
together, and served in a form like jelly. If only Mummy could have
been there. That was Nora’s one unfulfilled desire.
“Your appetite is much better to-night, Miss,” remarked the butler,
breaking the silence for the first time, as he gave Nora her second
helping of chicken. “If you keep on like this, you won’t have to take
tonics much longer.”
He spoke so pleasantly, and looked so good-natured, that Nora smiled.
“I don’t like that tonic at all,” she said, confidentially. “I never
took--I mean I hope I sha’n’t have to take it long.”
She would have liked to continue the conversation, for she was not fond
of remaining silent, and there was something rather appalling about
the big dining-room, and the long table with nobody at it but herself,
but Brown, who was English, and had strict ideas about the duties of
a butler, said no more, and remembering Kathleen’s instructions, Nora
held her peace.
Dinner over, she went back to the schoolroom, intending to go on with
her book, but somehow her interest in books seemed to have suddenly
flagged. It was all so strange and unusual, and now that bedtime
was approaching, she was beginning to feel queer, and just a little
frightened. She had never been away from her mother for a night in
her life. She was glad Mummy had Kathleen, of course, oh, very glad
indeed. Mummy had so longed for her other twin, and now she had her
all to herself, just for to-night. Still, if she could only have been
there too, Mummy would have been just as happy. She thought of the
big, shabby studio, and Mummy in the rocker, with Kathleen in her lap.
She wondered if Kathleen had helped wash the dinner dishes. It was not
likely that people who lived in palaces knew much about housework. She
had been envying her twin sister in her beautiful home, ever since
Mummy had told her the story, but now all at once she realized that
being the adopted daughter of a millionaire, and having an automobile,
and all the fine clothes one wanted, didn’t mean so very much, after
all. What was the use in having beautiful dresses if one were not
allowed to wear them when one chose, and then to have a person like
that disagreeable Sarah always about, instead of Mummy--Kathleen had
said that nobody cared much about her except her daddy. Poor Kathleen!
If only they could all live together and be happy! Suddenly Nora began
to cry, without precisely knowing why.
“What in the world is the matter, Miss Kathleen?”
At the sound of Sarah’s astonished voice, Nora--who had flung herself
on the schoolroom sofa--lifted her head from the cushions, and hastily
sprang to her feet. She was conscious of the fact that her cheeks were
wet.
“There isn’t anything the matter,” she explained hastily. “I--I only
just lay down for a few minutes. I guess, perhaps, I’d better go to
bed.”
“You’ve been crying,” maintained the uncompromising Sarah.
Nora blushed, and her eyes dropped, but she said nothing.
“Now see here,” said Sarah, and Nora was surprised to find how kind her
voice could be, “you’ve got to stop this fretting. It doesn’t do a bit
of good, and besides it’s very silly. You don’t know what may happen
to-morrow.”
Nora admitted that she did not.
“Well, just wait and see. We never know what’s before us, and may be
to-morrow night at this time you’ll be laughing at yourself for having
cried to-night. I know you miss your father, but as I said before,
there isn’t any use in fretting. Now do you really want to go to bed?
Because if you do, I’ll help you undress, and then run round to see my
mother for a little while.”
“You can go right away if you want to,” said Nora, eagerly; “I don’t
need any help.” She felt as though a weight had been suddenly lifted
from her shoulders, but it did seem rather funny to be suspected of
missing a person she had never seen.
Sarah laughed grimly.
“You don’t need any help, don’t you?” she said, sarcastically. “Well, I
must say I’d like to see you try to do something for yourself once in
a while. You’re about the most helpless child I ever saw. When I think
of--when I think of all poor little Miss Joy did for herself----”
Nora rose. She realized that if she hoped to carry out “her part,” she
must not let Sarah suspect that she had dressed and undressed herself
every day of her life since she was nine. She would have liked to
ask some questions about “Miss Joy,” but it would not do to display
ignorance on that subject, any more than any other, so she followed the
maid to the big, luxurious bedroom, and there submitted patiently to
having her hair brushed and braided, her shoes and stockings taken off,
and various other things, which it seemed to her quite absurd that any
girl of twelve could not have done for herself.
“Why, I declare, you’re getting real fat,” observed Sarah in a tone of
surprise, as she whisked off Nora’s dress. “I’ll have to begin letting
out some of your things. I don’t know what that doctor meant by saying
you were losing flesh.”
“If I’m getting fat, perhaps I won’t have to take any more of that
medicine,” ventured Nora, with a sudden hope. “It’s very horrid.”
“The doctor’s orders must be obeyed,” returned Sarah, and the subject
was dropped.
“Now kneel down and let me hear you say your prayers,” commanded Sarah,
when Nora was in her nightgown, ready to get into bed.
Nora hesitated.
“Must I say them out loud?” she inquired, timidly. “Can’t I wait and
say them to myself after you’ve gone away and put out the light?”
Sarah shook her head.
“I can’t depend on you,” she said. “As like as not you’ll fall off to
sleep and forget all about your prayers. I never leave a child till
I’ve heard her say her prayers properly.”
Nora sighed, but dared not argue, so she dropped on her knees by the
bedside, and reverently repeated The Lord’s Prayer, and “Jesus, Tender
Shepherd, Hear Me” aloud. She was a little afraid lest Kathleen might
be in the habit of repeating some other prayer, but Sarah appeared
satisfied.
“You said them very well to-night,” she remarked approvingly, as Nora
rose from her knees. “Now get into bed, and I’ll put out the light. I
won’t shut the door tight, and if you should want anything you can ring
for Selma.”
“I believe she really means to be kind,” Nora said to herself, as she
sank down in the soft bed, and the maid tucked in the clothes. “It’s
just her funny way of talking that seems cross. Good-night, Sarah,” she
added aloud; “I hope you’ll find your mother well.”
“Thank you, Miss Kathleen,” said Sarah, and to herself she added, as
she left the room--
“If she was always as little trouble as she’s been to-night, a person
might get real fond of her in time.”
For some minutes after Sarah had left her, Nora lay, with wide-open
eyes, staring into the darkness. She was not at all sleepy. Indeed, it
was earlier than her usual bedtime, and the strangeness and excitement
of her position were enough to keep her awake for hours. It was all
very comfortable, and all very interesting, but, oh, if she could only
just say good-night to Mummy! She would not change places with Kathleen
permanently; no, not for the world. Life in this big, luxurious house
without Mummy would be a very dreary affair indeed. Then she remembered
that Kathleen had never known Mummy until to-day. A lump rose in her
throat, and the tears started to her eyes.
“I don’t believe she’ll ever want to come back,” she said to herself,
with a sob. “Nobody could possibly ever want to leave Mummy. I guess
I’ll say my prayers again. It didn’t seem like really saying them
before. I’m sure nobody can really pray with another person listening
to every word.”
She folded her hands, and whispered, “Our Father,” and “Jesus, Tender
Shepherd,” all over again, and then she added a little petition of
her own, that God would watch over Mother and Kathleen, and bring her
safely home in the morning.
“Miss Kathleen.”
At the sound of the low voice at the door, Nora opened her eyes with a
start.
“What’s the matter?” she inquired, anxiously.
“Notting, Miss Katleen, but Sarah has gone out. Would Miss Katleen like
dat I make de lady sing, like I do last Sunday night?”
Nora was going to ask “What lady?” but checked herself just in time.
“All right,” she said, and lay down again, not without a feeling of
considerable curiosity.
She listened to the sound of Selma’s retreating footsteps. There was a
moment of silence, and then she heard the sound of low, soft music, and
Alma Gluck’s wonderful voice began to sing:
“Mid pleasures and palaces though I may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.
Home, sweet, sweet home; there’s no place like home.”
“It’s the victrola in the schoolroom,” murmured Nora, with a little
sigh of pleasure. “How beautiful it is! If Mummy were only here, too,
but it’s true what the song says, there isn’t any place in the world
quite like home.”