THE SURPRISE.
DOWN stairs there were brisk steps and suppressed, though earnest,
voices. Marion whose whole heart was bent on being of service to the
young wife, had two objects in view in every step she took. First the
room must be cleaned, the carpets cleansed from the spots of grease
which every where met her eye; and what was quite as important, Bridget
must be taught the best method of doing the work. She was delighted
to see that the girl caught her ideas at once; and tried to imitate
whenever it was in her power.
In the meantime Marion listened to a revelation of Paul's unkindness
which shocked her.
"Such cruelty shall be stopped," was her energetic reflection; "but
how?"
By half past eleven the lower part of the house was in fine order,
though it must be confessed there was a strong odor of benzine with
which the carpets had been cleansed. Marion ran softly up to the
chamber and found Gertrude still sleeping; and concluding the rest was
doing her more good than any thing else, went back to consult with the
servant about dinner.
Mr. Dudley, she learned to her astonishment, usually took that meal
away from home; but sometimes came in upon his wife all of a sudden;
and then talked "awful" because there was nothing fit to eat.
"I believe," the young lady said, "that gentlemen are always cross when
they are not well fed; and we must see that he has no excuse of that
kind to-day; for I want to get his leave for you to stay and comfort
your poor mistress."
An exploring expedition into the larder proved there was abundance in
the house for a nice little family dinner. Enough dainties remained
from the feast to furnish dessert for weeks.
There was half a boiled ham from which sandwiches had been made by the
caterer; a slice of steak uncooked, potatoes, rice and plenty of nice
little rolls. These last she had told Bridget to wrap in a towel to
keep them moist; then when needed for breakfast to wet and crisp them
in the oven.
Having begged an apron from the girl, she began to pare a ring around
the potatoes, throwing them into the pot with a little salt; calling
Bridget to observe every motion, with a view to another time.
When the potatoes and rice were boiling, she pounded the meat, to
Bridget's great surprise, and laid it upon the gridiron to be ready
for broiling; and then, seeing that the coal burned briskly, hurried
off to set the table. But finding the servant had already been taught
this operation by her young mistress, she resorted to the chamber; and
faithful to her promise, softly kissed the sleeper's pale cheek.
"I feel so much better. My sister has cured me," Gertrude said, pulling
Marion's face down for a second embrace.
This proved to be a day of pleasant surprises. Marion had assisted
her new sister down stairs, where, with a pillow and shawl she was
realizing how pleasant it was to be cared for once more, when another
ring brought a hectic flush to her cheek.
It is sad indeed for the wife, be she young or old, when she trembles
with fear at the thought of meeting reproachful looks and hard words
from her husband.
"That's Paul," she said half aloud, rising and leaning on her elbow.
But she was mistaken this time; it was not Paul.
"Is Mrs. Dudley at home?" inquired a cheerful, manly voice of the
waiting Bridget.
"Yes, sir, she's at home; but I can't tell without asking whether
she'll be able to see yerself."
"Tell her, Mr. Wallingford, her brother, is here."
"Och, sir! and that's the news I'll be proud to tell. Walk in, sir. Yer
welcome as the morning sun."
"Gerty, dear, I smell medicine. Are you ill?" he asked, opening the
door and descrying her in the back parlor.
He had no time to say more, the youthful figure bounded from the sofa
and almost fell into his outstretched arms.
"Oh, Edward!" was all she could say; but she nestled her head against
his breast, and gazed into his face with such a loving, satisfied
glance he needed no other assurance of welcome.
"What is the matter, Gerty? Your heart is fluttering like a frightened
bird," he said tenderly, seating her on the sofa and gazing sadly into
her pale, wan face. "It is well Hannah is not here or she—"
He stopped abruptly as she exclaimed, with a tear of joy:
"It seems like a dream. I never expected to be so happy again."
"Tell me all your trouble, little sister. I came a great many miles to
satisfy myself whether Paul was keeping his promise."
She went on in her childlike way to relate about the party; her
sickness; the trouble she had experienced with servants, and the
great kindness she had that morning received from Marion Gilbert, the
daughter of their clergyman.
"You have a servant now who seems attached to you," Mr. Wallingford
answered gravely, recalling her characteristic welcome at the door.
"Yes, she's as kind as can be. I do hope Paul will let me keep her.
Marion says she's very teachable."
"Why do you think he will not?"
"She broke a glass dish. She is not generally careless; and he
dismissed her." This was the only mention she had made of her husband.
With a calm, steady gaze in her eyes her brother said:
"Tell me, Gerty. Is Paul kind to you, and considerate of your wants?"
Her eyes fell beneath his; and there was such a pained expression on
her once happy face he needed no other answer.
A little tingle of the table bell announced that dinner was ready; and
almost immediately after Marion appeared smiling and blushing at the
singular position in which she found herself placed.
"This is my brother, Marion," Gertrude said with a bright smile, "I've
been telling him all about my new sister."
"Will you try to come to the table, darling?" whispered the visitor;
"or shall I bring you a piece of steak here?"
"Oh, I will go! Edward will give me his arm."
Marion rolled an easy chair to the table; called Bridget to bring a
cricket, and without a word seated herself at the head of the table
opposite a steaming dish of potatoes, mashed and browned in the form of
a pineapple. She waited one moment hoping Mr. Wallingford would offer
to say grace; but as he did not, she bowed her head one instant and
then with a smile, commenced her self-imposed duty of waiting on the
others.
Bridget, who had been privately instructed, stood behind her chair
waiting to carry the plates.
On the handsome side board was a dish of jelly and a silver basket
filled with different kinds of cake, with Gertrude's pretty service
of silver, exciting suspicion that coffee would be forthcoming in due
time. The young wife colored with delight as she saw what a nice repast
was in readiness for her brother, and could not forbear saying:
"Edward, you must thank my new sister for your dinner. I am a very poor
housekeeper."
"Bridget has proved an efficient help," quietly observed Miss Gilbert.
"You will be able to judge presently of her skill in making coffee."
"But where is your husband?" inquired Edward.
"He generally takes dinner at a restaurant," answered Gerty, trying to
steady her voice.
Edward looked so indignant that the poor child felt called upon to
explain.
"You know, brother, Hannah's cooking was always done with so little
fuss, that I thought it no trouble at all to keep house. Paul would
have very sorry fare, if he took his meals at home."
Before she had finished speaking, there was a loud, decided ring.
"That's Paul," she exclaimed anxiously.
"I know his ring."
"Don't tell him he has visitors," cautioned Marion, as Bridget passed
her to open the door.
"How came you, here?" Paul asked angrily. "You needn't expect a cent
from me. I told you to go at once."
They heard him walking into the hall, where he probably perceived the
smell of steak and coffee.
"So you and your mistress can get up a meal when I'm away," he began in
a sneering tone. "You didn't expect I'd come home, I suppose. Well, I'm
glad I've found what is done in my absence; and you may leave as quick
as you please."
By this time he had laid aside his hat and gloves, thrown his newspaper
on the hall table; and walked toward the dining room, asking: "Is your
mistress here?" throwing open the door.
His tone changed as if by magic; and yet it was easy to perceive
the surprise of seeing his brother-in-law was not at the moment an
agreeable one.
"Why, Wallingford, how are you? Welcome to Chicago. Miss Gilbert you
look as blooming as a June rose. Gertrude, love, are you ill? You are
very pale. Ah, I feared the effect of your last night's dissipation.
Fact, I have myself a blinding headache to-day. Makes me as blue as I
used to get sometimes in our old college days, Wallingford."
"How is business?" inquired Edward, breaking an awkward pause.
"Very good! No, I thank you, Miss Gilbert, I have eaten dinner. I came
home to see how Gerty was getting on with her clearing away, after our
first party. She ate so many dainties last night, feared she would be
sick to-day."
"Why, Paul, you forget I didn't taste any thing."
Both Marion and Mr. Wallingford caught an ugly scowl which for one
moment distorted the features of the lawyer, which instantaneously
changed to a smile, as he said carelessly:
"Ah, was that so? My duties as a host kept me very busy. You are so
fond of cake and candies, that I supposed you indulged freely."