Oh, Money! Money! A Novel

by Eleanor H. Porter

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE FLY IN THE OINTMENT

  In August Father Duff died. Miss Flora came home at once. JamesBlaisdell was already in town. Hattie was at the mountains. She wrotethat she could not think of coming down for the funeral, but sheordered an expensive wreath. Frank and Jane were in the Far West, andcould not possibly have arrived in time, anyway. None of the youngpeople came.

  Mr. Smith helped in every way that he could help, and Miss Maggie toldhim that he was a great comfort, and that she did not know what shewould have done without him. Miss Flora and Mr. James Blaisdell helped,too, in every way possible, and at last the first hard sad days wereover, and the household had settled back into something like normalconditions again.

  Miss Maggie had more time now, and she went often to drive or for motorrides with Mr. Smith. Together they explored cemeteries for milesaround; and although Miss Maggie worried sometimes because they foundso little Blaisdell data, Mr. Smith did not seem to mind it at all.

  In September Miss Flora moved into an attractive house on the WestSide, bought some new furniture, and installed a maid in thekitchen--all under Miss Maggie's kindly supervision. In September, too,Frank and Jane Blaisdell came home, and the young people began toprepare for the coming school year.

  Mr. Smith met Mrs. Hattie one day, coming out of Miss Maggie's gate.She smiled and greeted him cordially, but she looked so palpably upsetover something that he exclaimed to Miss Maggie, as soon he entered thehouse: "What was it? IS anything the matter with Mrs. James Blaisdell?"

  Miss Maggie smiled--but she frowned, too.

  "No, oh, no--except that Hattie has discovered that a hundred thousanddollars isn't a million."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "Oh, where she's been this summer she's measured up, of course, withpeople a great deal richer than she. And she doesn't like it. Here inHillerton her hundred--and two-hundred-dollar dresses looked very grandto her, but she's discovered that there are women who pay five hundredand a thousand, and even more. She feels very cheap andpoverty-stricken now, therefore, in her two-hundred-dollar gowns. PoorHattie! If she only would stop trying to live like somebody else!"

  "But I thought--I thought this money was making them happy," stammeredMr. Smith.

  "It was--until she realized that somebody else had more," sighed MissMaggie, with a shake of her head.

  "Oh, well, she'll get over that."

  "Perhaps."

  "At any rate, it's brought her husband some comfort."

  "Y-yes, it has; but--"

  "What do you mean by that?" he demanded, when she did not finish hersentence.

  "I was wondering--if it would bring him any more."

  "They haven't lost it?"

  "Oh, no, but they've spent a lot--and Hattie is beginning again her oldtalk that she MUST have more money in order to live 'even decent.' Itsounds very familiar to me, and to Jim, I suspect, poor fellow. I sawhim the other night, and from what he said, and what she says, I cansee pretty well how things are going. She's trying to get some of herrich friends to give Jim a better position, where he'll earn more. Shedoesn't understand, either, why Jim can't go into the stock market andmake millions, as some men do. I'm afraid she isn't always--patient.She says there are Fred and Elizabeth and Benjamin to educate, and thatshe's just got to have more money to tide them over till the rest ofthe legacy comes."

  "The rest of the legacy!" exploded Mr. Smith. "Good Heavens, does thatwoman think that--" Mr. Smith stopped with the air of one pullinghimself back from an abyss.

  Miss Maggie laughed.

  "I don't wonder you exclaim. It is funny--the way she takes that forgranted, isn't it? Still, there are grounds for it, of course."

  "Oh, are there? Do YOU think--she'll get more, then?" demanded Mr.Smith, almost savagely.

  Miss Maggie laughed again.

  "I don't know what to think. To my mind the whole thing was ratherextraordinary, anyway, that he should have given them anything--utterstrangers as they were. Still, as Hattie says, as long as he HASrecognized their existence, why, he may again of course. Still, on theother hand, he may have very reasonably argued that, having willed thema hundred thousand apiece, that was quite enough, and he'd give therest somewhere else."

  "Humph! Maybe," grunted Mr. Smith.

  "And he may come back alive from South America"

  "He may."

  "But Hattie isn't counting on either of these contingencies, and she iscounting on the money," sighed Miss Maggie, sobering again. "AndJim,--poor Jim!--I'm afraid he's going to find it just as hard to keepcaught up now--as he used to."

  "Humph!" Mr. Smith frowned. He did not speak again. He stood lookingout of the window, apparently in deep thought.

  Miss Maggie, with another sigh, turned and went out into the kitchen.

  The next day, on the street, Mr. Smith met Mellicent Blaisdell. She waswith a tall, manly-looking, square-jawed young fellow whom Mr. Smithhad never seen before. Mellicent smiled and blushed adorably. Then, tohis surprise, she stopped him with a gesture.

  "Mr. Smith, I know it's on the street, but I--I want Mr. Gray to meetyou, and I want you to meet Mr. Gray. Mr. Smith is--is a very goodfriend of mine, Donald."

  Mr. Smith greeted Donald Gray with a warm handshake and a keen glanceinto his face. The blush, the hesitation, the shy happiness inMellicent's eyes had been unmistakable. Mr. Smith felt suddenly thatDonald Gray was a man he very much wanted to know--a good deal about.He chatted affably for a minute. Then he went home and straight to MissMaggie.

  "Who's Donald Gray, please?" he demanded.

  Miss Maggie laughed and threw up her hands.

  "Oh, these children!"

  "But who is he?"

  "Well, to begin with, he's devoted to Mellicent."

  "You don't have to tell me that. I've seen him--and Mellicent."

  "Oh!" Miss Maggie smiled appreciatively.

  "What I want to know is, who is he?"

  "He's a young man whom Mellicent met this summer. He plays the violin,and Mellicent played his accompaniments in a church entertainment.That's where she met him first. He's the son of a minister near theircamp, where the girls went to church. He's a fine fellow, I guess. He'shard hit--that's sure. He came to Hillerton at once, and has gone towork in Hammond's real estate office. So you see he's in earnest."

  "I should say he was! I liked his appearance very much."

  "Yes, I did--but her mother doesn't."

  "What do you mean? She--objects?"

  "Decidedly! She says he's worse than Carl Pennock--that he hasn't gotany money, not ANY money."

  "Money!" ejaculated Mr. Smith, in genuine amazement. "You don't meanthat she's really letting money stand in the way if Mellicent cares forhim? Why, it was only a year ago that she herself was bitterlycensuring Mrs. Pennock for doing exactly the same thing in the case ofyoung Pennock and Mellicent."

  "I know," nodded Miss Maggie. "But--she seems to have forgotten that."

  "Shoe's on the other foot this time."

  "It seems to be."

  "Hm-m!" muttered Mr. Smith.

  "I don't think Jane has done much yet, by way of opposition. You seethey've only reached home, and she's just found out about it. But shetold me she shouldn't let it go on, not for a moment. She has otherplans for Mellicent."

  "Shall I be--meddling in what isn't my business, if I ask what theyare?" queried Mr. Smith diffidently. "You know I am very muchinterested in--Miss Mellicent."

  "Not a bit. I'm glad to have you. Perhaps you can suggest--a way outfor us," sighed Miss Maggie. "The case is just this: Jane wantsMellicent to marry Hibbard Gaylord."

  "Shucks! I've seen young Gray only once, but I'd give more for hislittle finger than I would for a cartload of Gaylords!" flung out Mr.Smith.

  "So would I," approved Miss Maggie. "But Jane--well, Jane feelsotherwise. To begin with, she's very much flattered at Gaylord'sattentions to Mellicent--the more so because he's left Bessie--I begher pardon, 'Elizabeth'--for her."


  "Then Miss Elizabeth is in it, too?"

  "Very much in it. That's one of the reasons why Hattie is so anxiousfor more money. She wants clothes and jewels for Bessie so she can keeppace with the Gaylords. You see there's a wheel within a wheel here."

  "I should say there was!"

  "As near as I can judge, young Gaylord is Bessie's devoted slave--untilMellicent arrives; then he has eyes only for HER, which piques Bessieand her mother not a little. They were together more or less all summerand I think Hattie thought the match was as good as made. Now, once inHillerton, back he flies to Mellicent."

  "And--Mellicent?"

  Miss Maggie's eyes became gravely troubled.

  "I don't understand Mellicent. I think--no, I KNOW she cares for youngGray; but--well, I might as well admit it, she is ready any time toflirt outrageously with Hibbard Gaylord, or--or with anybody else, forthat matter. I saw her flirting with you at the party last Christmas!"Miss Maggie's face showed a sudden pink blush.

  Mr. Smith gave a hearty laugh.

  "Don't you worry, Miss Maggie. If she'll flirt with young Gaylord ANDOTHERS, it's all right. There's safety in numbers, you know."

  "But I don't like to have her flirt at all, Mr. Smith."

  "It isn't flirting. It's just her bottled-up childhood and youthbubbling over. She can't help bubbling, she's been repressed so long.She'll come out all right, and she won't come out hand in hand withHibbard Gaylord. You see if she does."

  Miss Maggie shook her head and sighed.

  "You don't know Jane. Jane will never give up. She'll be quiet, butshe'll be firm. With one hand she'll keep Gray away, and with the othershe'll push Gaylord forward. Even Mellicent herself won't know how it'sdone. But it'll be done, and I tremble for the consequences."

  "Hm-m!" Mr. Smith's eyes had lost their twinkle now. To himself hemuttered: "I wonder if maybe--I hadn't better take a hand in this thingmyself."

  "You said--I didn't understand what you said," murmured Miss Maggiedoubtfully.

  "Nothing--nothing, Miss Maggie," replied the man. Then, withbusiness-like alertness, he lifted his chin. "How long do you say thishas been going on?"

  "Why, especially since they all came home two weeks ago. Jane knewnothing of Donald Gray till then."

  "Where does Carl Pennock come in?"

  Miss Maggie gave a gesture of despair.

  "Oh, he comes in anywhere that he can find a chance; though, to do herjustice, Mellicent doesn't give him--many chances."

  "What does her father say to all this? How does he like young Gray?"

  Miss Maggie gave another gesture of despair.

  "He says nothing--or, rather, he laughs, and says: 'Oh, well, it willcome out all right in time. Young folks will be young folks!'"

  "But does he like Gray? He knows him, of course."

  "Oh, yes, he likes him. He's taken him to ride in his car once, to myknowledge."

  "His car! Then Mr. Frank Blaisdell has--a car?"

  "Oh, yes, he's just been learning to run it. Jane says he's crazy overit, and that he's teasing her to go all the time. She says he wants tobe on the move somewhere every minute. He's taken up golf, too. Did youknow that?"

  "Well, no, I--didn't."

  "Oh yes, he's joined the Hillerton Country Club, and he goes up to thelinks every morning for practice."

  "I can't imagine it--Frank Blaisdell spending his mornings playinggolf!"

  "You forget," smiled Miss Maggie. "Frank Blaisdell is a retiredbusiness man. He has begun to take some pleasure in life now."

  "Humph!" muttered Mr. Smith, as he turned to go into his own room.

  Mr. Smith called on the Frank Blaisdells that evening. Mr. Blaisdelltook him out to the garage (very lately a barn), and showed him theshining new car. He also showed him his lavish supply of golf clubs,and told him what a "bully time" he was having these days. He told him,too, all about his Western trip, and said there was nothing like travelto broaden a man's outlook. He said a great deal about how glad he wasto get out of the old grind behind the counter--but in the next breathhe asked Mr. Smith if he had ever seen a store run down as his had donesince he left it. Donovan didn't know any more than a cat how such astore should be run, he said.

  When they came back from the garage they found callers in theliving-room. Carl Pennock and Hibbard Gaylord were chatting withMellicent. Almost at once the doorbell rang, too, and Donald Gray camein with his violin and a roll of music. Mellicent's mother came inalso. She greeted all the young men pleasantly, and asked Carl Pennockto tell Mr. Smith all about his fishing trip. Then she sat down byyoung Gray and asked him many questions about his music. She was SOinterested in violins, she said.

  Gray waxed eloquent, and seemed wonderfully pleased--for about fiveminutes; then Mr. Smith saw that his glance was shifting more and morefrequently and more and more unhappily to Mellicent and HibbardGaylord, talking tennis across the room.

  Mr. Smith apparently lost interest in young Pennock's fish story then.At all events, another minute found him eagerly echoing Mrs.Blaisdell's interest in violins--but with this difference: violins inthe abstract with her became A violin in the concrete with him; and hemust hear it at once.

  Mrs. Jane herself could not have told exactly how it was done, but sheknew that two minutes later young Gray and Mellicent were at the piano,he, shining-eyed and happy, drawing a tentative bow across the strings:she, no less shining-eyed and happy, giving him "A" on the piano.

  Mr. Smith enjoyed the music very much--so much that he begged foranother selection and yet another. Mr. Smith did not appear to realizethat Messrs. Pennock and Gaylord were passing through sham interest andfrank boredom to disgusted silence. Equally oblivious was he of Mrs.Jane's efforts to substitute some other form of entertainment for theviolin-playing. He shook hands very heartily, however, with Pennock andGaylord when they took their somewhat haughty departure, a littlelater, and, strange to say, his interest in the music seemed to go withtheir going; for at once then he turned to Mr. and Mrs. Frank Blaisdellwith a very animated account of some Blaisdell data he had found onlythe week before.

  He did not appear to notice that the music of the piano had becomenothing but soft fitful snatches with a great deal of low talk andlaughter between. He seemed interested only that Mr. Blaisdell, andespecially Mrs. Blaisdell, should know the intimate history of oneEphraim Blaisdell, born in 1720, and his ten children and forty-ninegrandchildren. He talked of various investments then, and of theweather. He talked of the Blaisdells' trip, and of the cost of railroadfares and hotel life. He talked--indeed, Mrs. Jane told her husbandafter he left that Mr. Smith had talked of everything under the sun,and that she nearly had a fit because she could not get one minute toherself to break in upon Mellicent and that horrid Gray fellow at thepiano. She had not supposed Mr. Smith could talk like that. She hadnever remembered he was such a talker!

  The young people had a tennis match on the school tennis court the nextday. Mr. Smith told Miss Maggie that he thought he would drop aroundthere. He said he liked very much to watch tennis games.

  Miss Maggie said yes, that she liked to watch tennis games, too. Ifthis was just a wee bit of a hint, it quite failed of its purpose, forMr. Smith did not offer to take her with him. He changed the subject,indeed, so abruptly, that Miss Maggie bit her lip and flushed a little,throwing a swift glance into his apparently serene countenance.

  Miss Maggie herself, in the afternoon, with an errand for an excuse,walked slowly by the tennis court. She saw Mr. Smith at once--but hedid not seem at all interested in the playing. He had his back to thecourt, in fact. He was talking very animatedly with MellicentBlaisdell. He was still talking with her--though on the opposite sideof the court--when Miss Maggie went by again on her way home.

  Miss Maggie frowned and said something just under her breath about"that child--flirting as usual!" Then she went on, walking very fast,and without another glance toward the tennis ground. But a littlefarther on Miss Maggie's step lagged perceptibly, and her head lost itsproud po
ise. Miss Maggie, for a reason she could not have explainedherself, was feeling suddenly old, and weary, and very much alone.

  To the image in the mirror as she took off her hat a few minutes laterin her own hall, she said scornfully:

  "Well, why shouldn't you feel old? You are old. YOU ARE OLD!" MissMaggie had a habit of talking to herself in the mirror--but neverbefore had she said anything like this to herself.

  An hour later Mr. Smith came home to supper.

  "Well, how did the game go?" queried Miss Maggie, without looking upfrom the stocking she was mending.

  "Game? Go? Oh! Why, I don't remember who did win finally," he answered.Nor did it apparently occur to him that for one who was so greatlyinterested in tennis, he was curiously uninformed.

  It did occur to Miss Maggie, however.

  The next day Mr. Smith left the house soon after breakfast, and,contrary to his usual custom, did not mention where he was going. MissMaggie was surprised and displeased. More especially was she displeasedbecause she WAS displeased. As if it mattered to her where he went, shetold herself scornfully.

  The next day and the next it was much the same. On the third day shesaw Jane.

  "Where's Mr. Smith?" demanded Jane, without preamble, glancing at thevacant chair by the table in the corner.

  Miss Maggie, to her disgust, could feel the color burning in hercheeks; but she managed to smile as if amused.

  "I don't know, I'm sure. I'm not Mr. Smith's keeper, Jane."

  "Well, if you were I should ask you to keep him away from Mellicent,"retorted Mrs. Jane tartly.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean he's been hanging around Mellicent almost every day for a week."

  Miss Maggie flushed painfully.

  "Nonsense, Jane! He's more than twice her age. Mr. Smith is fifty ifhe's a day."

  "I'm not saying he isn't," sniffed Jane, her nose uptilted. "But I dosay, 'No fool like an old fool'!"

  "Nonsense!" scorned Miss Maggie again. "Mr. Smith has always been fondof Mellicent, and--and interested in her. But I don't believe he caresfor her--that way."

  "Then why does he come to see her and take her auto-riding, and hangaround her every minute he gets a chance?" snapped Jane. "I know how heacts at the house, and I hear he scarcely left her side at the tennismatch the other day."

  "Yes, I--" Miss Maggie did not finish her sentence. A slow change cameto her countenance. The flush receded, leaving her face a bit white.

  "I wonder if the man really thinks he stands any chance," splutteredJane, ignoring Miss Maggie's unfinished sentence. "Why, he's worse thanthat Donald Gray. He not only hasn't got the money, but he's old, aswell."

  "Yes, we're all--getting old, Jane." Miss Maggie tossed the words offlightly, and smiled as she uttered them. But after Mrs. Jane had gone,she went to the little mirror above the mantel and gazed at herselflong and fixedly.

  "Well, what if he does? It's nothing to you, Maggie Duff!" she mutteredunder her breath. Then resolutely she turned away, picked up her work,and fell to sewing very fast.

  Two days later Mellicent went back to school. Bessie went, too. Fredand Benny had already gone. To Miss Maggie things seemed to settle backinto their old ways again then. With Mr. Smith she took drives andmotor-rides, enjoying the crisp October air and the dancing sunlight onthe reds and browns and yellows of the autumnal foliage. True, she usedto wonder sometimes if the end always justified the means--it seemed anexpensive business to hire an automobile to take them fifty miles andback, and all to verify a single date. And she could not help noticingthat Mr. Smith appeared to have many dates that needed verifying--datesthat were located in very diverse parts of the surrounding country.Miss Maggie also could not help noticing that Mr. Smith was gettingvery little new material for his Blaisdell book these days, though hestill worked industriously over the old, retabulating, and recopying.She knew this, because she helped him do it--though she was careful tolet him know that she recognized the names and dates as oldacquaintances.

  To tell the truth, Miss Maggie did not like to admit, even to herself,that Mr. Smith must be nearing the end of his task. She did not like tothink of the house--after Mr. Smith should have gone. She told herselfthat he was just the sort of homey boarder that she liked, and shewished she might keep him indefinitely.

  She thought so all the more when the long evenings of November broughta new pleasure; Mr. Smith fell into the way of bringing home books toread aloud; and she enjoyed that very much. They had long talks, too,over the books they read. In one there was an old man who fell in lovewith a young girl, and married her. Miss Maggie, as certain parts ofthis story were read, held her breath, and stole furtive glances intoMr. Smith's face. When it was finished she contrived to question withcareful casualness, as to his opinion of such a marriage.

  Mr. Smith's answer was prompt and unequivocal. He said he did notbelieve that such a marriage should take place, nor did he believe thatin real life, it would result in happiness. Marriage should be betweenpersons of similar age, tastes, and habits, he said very decidedly. AndMiss Maggie blushed and said yes, yes, indeed! And that night, whenMiss Maggie gazed at herself in the glass, she looked so happy--thatshe appeared to be almost as young as Mellicent herself!