“Do let me give you some that is hot,” she said at last, “and let me thank you from my heart for the help and strength and comfort you have been to me, Mr. Eltwood.”
“I’m very glad,” he said; and again, “I am very glad.” “You may count upon anything I can do for you, always,” he continued. “I am proud to be your friend.”
He held her hand once more for a moment, and went away with his head up and a firm step. To one who watched him go, he had almost a triumphant air, but it was not triumph, only the brave beginning of a hard fight and a long one.
Then came Mrs. Bell, returned from a shopping trip, and sank down in a wicker rocker, glad of the shade and a cup of tea. No, she didn’t want it iced. “Hot tea makes you cooler,” was her theory.
“You don’t look very tired,” said the girl. “Seems to me you get stronger all the time.”
“I do,” said her mother. “You don’t realize, you can’t realize, Diantha, what this means to me. Of course to you I am an old woman, a back number — one has to feel so about one’s mother. I did when I married, and my mother then was five years younger than I am now.”
“I don’t think you old, mother, not a bit of it. You ought to have twenty or thirty years of life before you, real life.”
“That’s just what I’m feeling,” said Mrs. Bell, “as if I’d just begun to live! This is so different! There is a big, moving thing to work for. There is — why Diantha, you wouldn’t believe what a comfort it is to me to feel that my work here is — really — adding to the profits!”
Diantha laughed aloud.
“You dear old darling,” she said, “I should think it was! It is making the profits.”
“And it grows so,” her mother went on. “Here’s this part so well assured that you’re setting up the new Union House! Are you sure about Mrs. Jessup, dear?”
“As sure as I can be of any one till I’ve tried a long time. She has done all I’ve asked her to here, and done it well. Besides, I mean to keep a hand on it for a year or two yet — I can’t afford to have that fail.”
Mrs. Jessup was an imported aunt, belonging to one of the cleverest girls, and Diantha had had her in training for some weeks.
“Well, I guess she’s as good as any you’d be likely to get,” Mrs. Bell admitted, “and we mustn’t expect paragons. If this can’t be done by an average bunch of working women the world over, it can’t be done — that’s all!”
“It can be done,” said the girl, calmly. “It will be done. You see.”
“Mr. Thaddler says you could run any kind of a business you set your hand to,” her mother went on. “He has a profound respect for your abilities, Dina.”
“Seems to me you and Mr. Thaddler have a good deal to say to each other, motherkins. I believe you enjoy that caffeteria desk, and all the compliments you get.”
“I do,” said Mrs. Bell stoutly. “I do indeed! Why, I haven’t seen so many men, to speak to, since — why, never in my life! And they are very amusing — some of them. They like to come here — like it immensely. And I don’t wonder. I believe you’ll do well to enlarge.”
Then they plunged into a discussion of the winter’s plans. The day service department and its employment agency was to go on at the New Union House, with Mrs. Jessup as manager; the present establishment was to be run as a hotel and restaurant, and the depot for the cooked food delivery.
Mrs. Thorvald and her husband were installed by themselves in another new venture; a small laundry outside the town. This place employed several girls steadily, and the motor wagon found a new use between meals, in collecting and delivering laundry parcels.
“It simplifies it a lot — to get the washing out of the place and the girls off my mind,” said Diantha. “Now I mean to buckle down and learn the hotel business — thoroughly, and develop this cooked food delivery to perfection.”
“Modest young lady,” smiled her mother. “Where do you mean to stop — if ever?”
“I don’t mean to stop till I’m dead,” Diantha answered; “but I don’t mean to undertake any more trades, if that is what you mean. You know what I’m after — to get ‘housework’ on a business basis, that’s all; and prove, prove, PROVE what a good business it is. There’s the cleaning branch — that’s all started and going well in the day service. There’s the washing — that’s simple and easy. Laundry work’s no mystery. But the food part is a big thing. It’s an art, a science, a business, and a handicraft. I had the handicraft to start with; I’m learning the business; but I’ve got a lot to learn yet in the science and art of it.”
“Don’t do too much at once,” her mother urged. “You’ve got to cater to people as they are.”
“I know it,” the girl agreed. “They must be led, step by step — the natural method. It’s a big job, but not too big. Out of all the women who have done housework for so many ages, surely it’s not too much to expect one to have a special genius for it!”
Her mother gazed at her with loving admiration.
“That’s just what you have, Dina — a special genius for housework. I wish there were more of you!”
“There are plenty of me, mother dear, only they haven’t come out. As soon as I show ’em how to make the thing pay, you’ll find that we have a big percentage of this kind of ability. It’s all buried now in the occasional ‘perfect housekeeper.’
“But they won’t leave their husbands, Dina.”
“They don’t need to,” the girl answered cheerfully. “Some of them aren’t married yet; some of them have lost their husbands, and some of them” — she said this a little bitterly— “have husbands who will be willing to let their wives grow.”
“Not many, I’m afraid,” said Mrs. Bell, also with some gloom.
Diantha lightened up again. “Anyhow, here you are, mother dear! And for this year I propose that you assume the financial management of the whole business at a salary of $1,000 ‘and found.’ How does that suit you?”
Mrs. Bell looked at her unbelievingly.
“You can’t afford it, Dina!”
“Oh, yes, I can — you know I can, because you’ve got the accounts. I’m going to make big money this year.”
“But you’ll need it. This hotel and restaurant business may not do well.”
“Now, mother, you know we’re doing well. Look here!” And Diantha produced her note-book.
“Here’s the little laundry place; its fittings come to so much, wages so much, collection and delivery so much, supplies so much — and already enough patronage engaged to cover. It will be bigger in winter, a lot, with transients, and this hotel to fall back on; ought to clear at least a thousand a year. The service club don’t pay me anything, of course; that is for the girls’ benefit; but the food delivery is doing better than I dared hope.”
Mrs. Bell knew the figures better than Diantha, even, and they went over them carefully again. If the winter’s patronage held on to equal the summer’s — and the many transient residents ought to increase it — they would have an average of twenty families a week to provide for — one hundred persons.
The expenses were:
Food for 100 at $250 a week. Per capita. $600
— per year $13,000
Labor — delivery man. $600
Head cook. $600
Two assistant cooks. $1,040
Three washers and packers. $1,560
Office girl. $520
— Per year $4,320
Rent, kitchen, office, etc. $500
Rent of motor. $300
Rent of cases. $250
Gasolene and repairs. $630
— Per year $1,680
Total. $19,000
“How do you make the gasolene and repairs as much as that?” asked Mrs. Bell.
“It’s margin, mother — makes it even money. It won’t be so much, probably.”
The income was simple and sufficient. They charged $5.00 a week per capita for three meals, table d’hote, delivered thrice daily. Frequent orders f
or extra meals really gave them more than they set down, but the hundred-person estimate amounted to $26,000 a year.
“Now, see,” said Diantha triumphantly; “subtract all that expense list (and it is a liberal one), and we have $7,000 left. I can buy the car and the cases this year and have $1,600 over! More; because if I do buy them I can leave off some of the interest, and the rent of kitchen and office comes to Union House! Then there’s all of the extra orders. It’s going to pay splendidly, mother! It clears $70 a year per person. Next year it will clear a lot more.”
It did not take long to make Mrs. Bell admit that if the business went on as it had been going Diantha would be able to pay her a salary of a thousand dollars, and have five hundred left — from the food business alone.
There remained the hotel, with large possibilities. The present simple furnishings were to be moved over to New Union House, and paid for by the girls in due time. With new paint, paper, and furniture, the old house would make a very comfortable place.
“Of course, it’s the restaurant mainly — these big kitchens and the central location are the main thing. The guests will be mostly tourists, I suppose.”
Diantha dwelt upon the prospect at some length; and even her cautious mother had to admit that unless there was some setback the year had a prospect of large success.
“How about all this new furnishing?” Mrs. Bell said suddenly. “How do you cover that? Take what you’ve got ahead now?”
“Yes; there’s plenty,” said Diantha. “You see, there is all Union House has made, and this summer’s profit on the cooked food — it’s plenty.”
“Then you can’t pay for the motor and cases as you planned,” her mother insisted.
“No, not unless the hotel and restaurant pays enough to make good. But I don’t have to buy them the first year. If I don’t, there is $5,500 leeway.”
“Yes, you are safe enough; there’s over $4,000 in the bank now,” Mrs. Bell admitted. “But, child,” she said suddenly, “your father!”
“Yes, I’ve thought of father,” said the girl, “and I mean to ask him to come and live at the hotel. I think he’d like it. He could meet people and talk about his ideas, and I’m sure I’d like to have him.”
They talked much and long about this, till the evening settled about them, till they had their quiet supper, and the girls came home to their noisy one; and late that evening, when all was still again, Diantha came to the dim piazza corner once more and sat there quite alone.
Full of hope, full of courage, sure of her progress — and aching with loneliness.
She sat with her head in her hands, and to her ears came suddenly the sound of a familiar step — a well-known voice — the hands and the lips of her lover.
“Diantha!” He held her close.
“Oh, Ross! Ross! Darling! Is it true? When did you come? Oh, I’m so glad! So glad to see you!”
She was so glad that she had to cry a little on his shoulder, which he seemed to thoroughly enjoy.
“I’ve good news for you, little girl,” he said. “Good news at last! Listen, dear; don’t cry. There’s an end in sight. A man has bought out my shop. The incubus is off — I can live now!”
He held his head up in a fine triumph, and she watched him adoringly.
“Did you — was it profitable?” she asked.
“It’s all exchange, and some cash to boot. Just think! You know what I’ve wanted so long — a ranch. A big one that would keep us all, and let me go on with my work. And, dear — I’ve got it! It’s a big fruit ranch, with its own water — think of that! And a vegetable garden, too, and small fruit, and everything. And, what’s better, it’s all in good running order, with a competent ranchman, and two Chinese who rent the vegetable part. And there are two houses on it — two. One for mother and the girls, and one for us!”
Diantha’s heart stirred suddenly.
“Where is it, dear?” she whispered.
He laughed joyfully. “It’s here!” he said. “About eight miles or so out, up by the mountains; has a little canyon of its own — its own little stream and reservoir. Oh, my darling! My darling!”
They sat in happy silence in the perfumed night. The strong arms were around her, the big shoulder to lean on, the dear voice to call her “little girl.”
The year of separation vanished from their thoughts, and the long years of companionship opened bright and glorious before them.
“I came this afternoon,” he said at length, “but I saw another man coming. He got here first. I thought—”
“Ross! You didn’t! And you’ve left me to go without you all these hours!”
“He looked so confident when he went away that I was jealous,” Ross admitted, “furiously jealous. And then your mother was here, and then those cackling girls. I wanted you — alone.”
And then he had her, alone, for other quiet, happy moments. She was so glad of him. Her hold upon his hand, upon his coat, was tight.
“I don’t know how I’ve lived without you,” she said softly.
“Nor I,” said he. “I haven’t lived. It isn’t life — without you. Well, dearest, it needn’t be much longer. We closed the deal this afternoon. I came down here to see the place, and — incidentally — to see you!”
More silence.
“I shall turn over the store at once. It won’t take long to move and settle; there’s enough money over to do that. And the ranch pays, Diantha! It really pays, and will carry us all. How long will it take you to get out of this?”
“Get out of — what?” she faltered.
“Why, the whole abominable business you’re so deep in here. Thank God, there’s no shadow of need for it any more!”
The girl’s face went white, but he could not see it. She would not believe him.
“Why, dear,” she said, “if your ranch is as near as that it would be perfectly easy for me to come in to the business — with a car. I can afford a car soon.”
“But I tell you there’s no need any more,” said he. “Don’t you understand? This is a paying fruit ranch, with land rented to advantage, and a competent manager right there running it. It’s simply changed owners. I’m the owner now! There’s two or three thousand a year to be made on it — has been made on it! There is a home for my people — a home for us! Oh, my beloved girl! My darling! My own sweetheart! Surely you won’t refuse me now!”
Diantha’s head swam dizzily.
“Ross,” she urged, “you don’t understand! I’ve built up a good business here — a real successful business. Mother is in it; father’s to come down; there is a big patronage; it grows. I can’t give it up!”
“Not for me? Not when I can offer you a home at last? Not when I show you that there is no longer any need of your earning money?” he said hotly.
“But, dear — dear!” she protested. “It isn’t for the money; it is the work I want to do — it is my work! You are so happy now that you can do your work — at last! This is mine!”
When he spoke again his voice was low and stern.
“Do you mean that you love — your work — better than you love me?”
“No! It isn’t that! That’s not fair!” cried the girl. “Do you love your work better than you love me? Of course not! You love both. So do I. Can’t you see? Why should I have to give up anything?”
“You do not have to,” he said patiently. “I cannot compel you to marry me. But now, when at last — after these awful years — I can really offer you a home — you refuse!”
“I have not refused,” she said slowly.
His voice lightened again.
“Ah, dearest! And you will not! You will marry me?”
“I will marry you, Ross!”
“And when? When, dearest?”
“As soon as you are ready.”
“But — can you drop this at once?”
“I shall not drop it.”
Her voice was low, very low, but clear and steady.
He rose to his feet with a muffled
exclamation, and walked the length of the piazza and back.
“Do you realize that you are saying no to me, Diantha?”
“You are mistaken, dear. I have said that I will marry you whenever you choose. But it is you who are saying, ‘I will not marry a woman with a business.’”
“This is foolishness!” he said sharply. “No man — that is a man — would marry a woman and let her run a business.”
“You are mistaken,” she answered. “One of the finest men I ever knew has asked me to marry him — and keep on with my work!”
“Why didn’t you take him up?”
“Because I didn’t love him.” She stopped, a sob in her voice, and he caught her in his arms again.
It was late indeed when he went away, walking swiftly, with a black rebellion in his heart; and Diantha dragged herself to bed.
She was stunned, deadened, exhausted; torn with a desire to run after him and give up — give up anything to hold his love. But something, partly reason and partly pride, kept saying within her: “I have not refused him; he has refused me!”
CHAPTER XIII. ALL THIS.
They laid before her conquering feet
The spoils of many lands;
Their crowns shone red upon her head
Their scepters in her hands.
She heard two murmuring at night,
Where rose-sweet shadows rest;
And coveted the blossom red
He laid upon her breast.
When Madam Weatherstone shook the plentiful dust of Orchardina from her expensive shoes, and returned to adorn the more classic groves of Philadelphia, Mrs. Thaddler assumed to hold undisputed sway as a social leader.
The Social Leader she meant to be; and marshalled her forces to that end. She Patronized here, and Donated there; revised her visiting list with rigid exclusiveness; secured an Eminent Professor and a Noted Writer as visitors, and gave entertainments of almost Roman magnificence.
Her husband grew more and more restive under the rising tide of social exactions in dress and deportment; and spent more and more time behind his fast horses, or on the stock-ranch where he raised them. As a neighbor and fellow ranchman, he scraped acquaintance with Ross Warden, and was able to render him many small services in the process of settling.
Complete Works of Charlotte Perkins Gilman Page 16
