The Flower Brides

by Grace Livingston Hill

  “Well, I should say you’ve been working pretty efficiently,” said Camilla meekly, gathering up the lists and sitting down to study them.

  “Then I folded up some of our clothes from the closets and put them in the bureau drawers, and packed some of the photographs and vases and things around these rooms in the old carved chest there.”

  “Mother!” said Camilla, aghast. “Do you want to get sick again? I just know you are too tired!”

  “Oh no, I’ve been enjoying myself!” said Mrs. Chrystie. “I didn’t do much. Just little things that took time and care. I’ve really been sitting down all day. And it’s been such a pleasure to get some things done so that you wouldn’t have so much. There! That’s the doorbell! That will be Miss York! Or perhaps Mr. Glyndon. He said he would come back either this evening or early tomorrow morning to get our answer.”

  “Glyndon?” said Camilla, startled. Things were moving so fast she felt as if she were tied to a runaway horse.

  “Yes, he’s the man who represents the new owner of the house. He’s the lawyer.”

  Camilla was convinced at first sight of the lawyer that he meant business, and more so when he went away leaving a check in her hands that was a goodly advance on the sum he had promised to pay when they were out of the house.

  Miss York had come in while he was there and slipped through to the kitchen until he should be gone, then she returned, her face full of interest.

  “Well, isn’t this nice!” she said, beaming on them. “I’ve been so hoping you could get out of this street before warm weather comes, and now it’s all planned for you!”

  “Now we’re going to be able to pay all our debts!” said Camilla, rejoicing. “But how on earth we’re going to get out in a week is more than I can understand, for I simply can’t get off from the office any day till five, and one can’t do much at lunch hour, even without eating.”

  “Get out?” said Miss York. “Why, of course you’ll get out. I don’t see why you can’t be out of here by tomorrow night! There’s nothing to hinder!”

  “My dear!” said Camilla, protesting. “We haven’t even an idea where we can find a house, and how can we move till the house is cleaned. You ought to have seen this house before we cleaned it! It was simply filthy!”

  “Nonsense!” said Miss York. “In the first place, you don’t need to take a dirty place. There are plenty of apartments and even little houses that are perfectly new. Yes, and prices aren’t so bad, either. Besides, even if you have to pay a little more than you do here, you are making enough to cover it. The quicker you get out, the better. What we need to do is find something tonight! It’s two minutes to eight now”—she consulted her watch—“before ten, Camilla, you and I ought to find something, and tomorrow morning Jinny Wilcox, the woman who does my washing, can go right to work cleaning the bedrooms. If you have a clean place to sleep by night, that is all that’s necessary. You can do the rest after you get in. It won’t be such ideal moving as having the whole house cleaned ahead of time, but what’s a little thing like that when you are getting fifty dollars a day for tumbling in?”

  “But Mother! She’ll work too hard, Miss York!” said Camilla in distress.

  “Mother’ll have to be reasonable,” said the nurse, with a look at her former patient that meant business. “We’ll make out a program for Mother, and she’ll have to take her oath to stick to it, or we’ll put her to bed in a hospital until the moving is all over.”

  “Oh, I’ll be good,” promised Mrs. Chrystie. “I really will.”

  “Very well, then,” said the nurse. “I’ll write out the program for you before I go back. My patient’s sister is staying with her tonight, so I don’t have to go back till I get ready, and we can have the time of our lives. Now, first, have you any idea where you want to move?”

  “Only where we can afford it, and not too far from my office,” said Camilla. “Mother telephoned a lot of real estate offices and got a list of places, but I don’t have an idea where most of them are.”

  “Let me see them! I haven’t been nursing so long in this city without knowing a whole lot about locations.”

  Camilla handed over the lists, and Miss York looked them over.

  “You don’t want any on that list,” she said, giving the first paper back to Camilla. “That’s down in the slummy-slums. Vine Street is a tough neighborhood as far down as that, and Third Street isn’t much better. It’s unhealthy down there in more senses than one, and noisy. Besides, it wouldn’t be safe for you, Camilla, going out at night. Garner Street might do, but it’s terribly noisy. Victrolas and radios have the night, and brawls now and then. I nursed down there. Here, this one is better. It isn’t fashionable there, but it’s respectable. Still, it’s desolate. Rows of red bricks like this, only a little larger, but they face a vast foundry across the street, and the noise is intolerable all day long.”

  Camilla ran her eye down the prices on the discarded list hopelessly. If these houses cost so much, how could they afford anything better?

  “Ah! Here is one, Park Circle. That’s all right, if it isn’t opposite the schoolhouse! And now here, this last paper is much more possible. Would you think Brentwood was too far out, Camilla? I think you could make it in a half hour mornings. It’s not in the city limits and there are not such high taxes, so the rent seems to be reasonable. These two say ‘yard.’ Would you like that?”

  “Oh, I’d like a yard!” said Mrs. Chrystie wistfully.

  “And here is one with a sleeping porch. And two apartments in the east part of the city that might be good.”

  Miss York was checking them off rapidly with her pencil.

  “Here are three that look pretty good,” she said. “How about it, Camilla? Can’t you and I take the car and run around to these? They aren’t so far away, and we ought to do all three in a little over an hour.”

  “Tonight?” said Camilla, wide eyed. “Why, yes, if you have the time.”

  “All the time there is,” said Miss York. “Get your hat on. But before you go, here’s an idea. How would you like to take a bit larger place and rent me a room, or even two? I’m a bit crowded where I am, and the woman’s married daughter is coming home with her family. Her husband’s lost his job. No telling how long they will be there, and she needs all the room there is and then some. She told me about it last night. Said she hated to send me away, but she didn’t see how she was going to spare the room after they come. So I’ve got to be looking around, and if you think I wouldn’t be a nuisance, maybe we could work out something together that would be nicer and a little bit cheaper than we could get separately?”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful!” said Camilla with relief. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Mother?”

  “I certainly would,” said Mrs. Chrystie. “But you’d never want to live in a plain little house such as we would have to take.”

  “It doesn’t matter about plainness,” said Miss York, “and I wouldn’t want anything better than you have. Of course, certain neighborhoods are better for me than others, but we could easily find the right thing if you’d be willing to have me around. I’ve been paying—” She launched into details, showing that she had thought things out carefully. “If I took two rooms, I’d expect to pay more, of course, and it would be worth it to me to be with people I like. You know, there’s nothing like feeling at home, and I haven’t had much home in my life. Now, come on, Camilla. There’s one other place I have in mind if you don’t find these what you want. We’ll go see it. It’s a lovely location—nice, plain, substantial neighborhood, little separate cottages with a central heating plant. I don’t know what they rent for, but I heard since the depression they’ve put the rent down. I never saw the inside of them, but the outside is most attractive. Now, Mother Chrystie, will you be good and rest while we’re gone?”

  “I’ll be good,” said Mrs. Chrystie, “but I’m going to sit in front of the desk and put my papers in order for tomorrow. It isn’t hard work. I’ll lie
down if I feel tired.”

  “Well, we’ll trust you. You’re on your honor, you know. If you get sick beforehand, it’s all off. We can’t move!” declared Miss York.

  So Camilla and Miss York got into the little car and started out house hunting.

  It was ten o’clock before they returned, but in their eyes was a look of satisfaction almost as if they had conquered the world.

  “Well, we found a place,” said Miss York triumphantly. “Tell her about it, Camilla, while I heat up what coffee was left. Camilla needs something; she’s too excited to sleep.”

  “Oh, Mother!” said Camilla, “I really believe we have found a nice place. Anyway, it will do for a while till we can look around. There doesn’t seem to be anything the matter with it at all.

  “It’s one of those little bungalow-cottages Miss York was telling about, out in Brentwood, all on one floor and an attic in the peak of the roof for storage. It’s really darling. The rooms are fairly large, with plenty of windows. It’s really a little duck of a house, although the floors are pine and the porch isn’t bigger than a pocket handkerchief. But there’s a small yard and a big tree, and there’s space at the back of the house to hang up clothes. And, Mother, just think of it, central heating! No furnace to tend, and no coal to buy! We went next door and asked the people there about it and they say it’s very satisfactory, always plenty of heat, and you can turn it off when it gets too hot.”

  “Why, that is wonderful!” said the mother. “I’m sure I shall like it. Is it located all right for Miss York, and is there a nice room for her? I think the tenant is the best part about this arrangement.”

  “So do I!” said Camilla with a sigh of relief. “It will be so nice to have her coming home to us sometimes! The only thing I’m afraid of is that she’s doing this to help us out.”

  “Just listen to her, Mother Chrystie; she’d even begrudge me the chance to do a little good deed now and then if I got the chance. But as it happens, this time the rooms in this house are a lot better than where I am now, larger and lighter, and the closet is twice as big. There’s a closet in every room, all good-sized, and one in the hall. Did you notice that, Camilla?”

  “Yes, and a linen closet in the hall, and a towel closet in the bathroom.”

  “It sounds too good to be true,” said Mrs. Chrystie. “I’ve kept the extra linen in a box under my bed so long I don’t know that I’d remember to use a linen closet if I had one. I don’t feel that I deserve so much luxury. I’m afraid I’ve sometimes grumbled at our close quarters.”

  “Never where anybody could hear you, I’m sure!” said Nurse York. “What I’m afraid of is that I’m not good enough to live in the house with such wonderful people as you are. Ever since I’ve been here to nurse I’ve called you folks ‘white orchid’ people. It just seems to fit you. There are people who remind me of violets, they are so shy; and some are tiger lilies; and some are like weeds, just no account at all; but you folks always seemed to me like royalty in flowers, heavenly royalty at that.”

  “Mother, she’s a poet, not a nurse!” cried Camilla, laughing. “Talking poetry like that. I don’t know as we shall be able to live up to her. But I think she’s got her metaphors mixed somehow. Seems to me, I’ve heard that orchids are parasites.”

  “There, Camilla, you’ve said enough!” said Miss York severely. “You go up to the third floor and get done whatever you have to do for the movers tomorrow while I get Lady Chrystie to bed. Then I’m coming up and get you, so you better hurry. It’s going to be my special care to look after you two and see that you keep your health!”

  “She’s going to be awfully bossy, Mother,” laughed back Camilla as she mounted the stairs with her arms full of garments to pack in the trunk up in the attic.

  Two hours later she lay in her bed trying to memorize a list of things she must remember to do before she left for the office in the morning. It seemed incredible that this time tomorrow night they would be in another house. It wasn’t going to be impossible after all to move in one day. But what a tower of strength Miss York was! And Jinny Wilcox was going to be another tower she was sure, from the brief glimpse she had of her friendly face when they stopped to arrange with her about the cleaning.

  So, without any memory of her former troubles and perplexities, she dropped away to sleep.

  Chapter 17

  It was hard to tear herself away in the morning. How interesting it would be to stay and look after everything. There seemed to be so many little things she ought to do before she went. Maybe she had been wrong not to ask Mr. Whitlock to let her off for the day. Then she remembered that he might be still away and that he had been most anxious for certain matters to be finished at once. No, she couldn’t trust Marietta to look after it all, not yet! So with a sigh, she hurried away.

  “Just remember, dear, that I still have my right mind,” said her mother, smiling as she kissed her good-bye. “I won’t let anybody steal our furniture nor throw the dishes out the window!”

  “Well, but Mother, you’ve been sick!”

  “Yes, but I’m not sick now, and anyway, I’m not going to move the furniture personally. Now hurry along. You’re going to be late! And don’t think about this end of things till five o’clock!”

  Camilla had no difficulty in controlling her thoughts that day, however, for she was overwhelmed with work and responsibility, and there was no time, either, for wondering how her mother and the mover would be getting on without her or for dreaming back into the brief past that had haunted her so long.

  To begin with, Marietta telephoned that her stepmother had been taken very sick that morning. “And I gotta stand by, see, till the doctor gets here! I don’t wantta, but I gotta! ’Cause she might die, see, and I wouldn’t want it ta be my fault, even ef she hasn’t been nice ta me.”

  “Why, of course!” said Camilla briskly. “You must stay there if you are needed. Have you sent for the doctor? Couldn’t you get a district nurse to come? Can I do anything for you?”

  “No, thanks! I guess she’ll be awright. But she’s carrying on something awful. Little Ted is all curled up on the couch looking white and sick. He’s frightened, hearing his mother scream. I don’t know what she’s got. I guess it’s her appendix. That’s what the woman next door says she thinks it is. So ef you can get along without me this morning, I’ll try and get there at noon. Ef I can’t, I’ll let ya know.”

  “All right, Marietta,” said Camilla, with a sinking of heart. How things were thickening. What a day! And she ought to be at home this minute looking after the moving! It seemed as if everything was all awry. She bowed her head over the telephone for a minute in despair.

  “Well,” she reminded herself, “Mother always says that when things seem to be in a tangle to us it’s just that God is executing an especially intricate and marvelous pattern in our lives, and we must be pliable in His hands, so as not to hinder. Lord, have Thy way with me today!”

  She lifted her head, put down the telephone, and went back to her work. She would just rest on that and go ahead.

  Many people came into the office that morning, questions came up for her to decide quickly, the telephone rang almost continually, and finally Mr. Whitlock telephoned that he would not be able to get back until late in the afternoon.

  Her voice was clear and steady as she answered his questions and gave him the messages that had been left for him, writing down his directions carefully. She did not tell him that Marietta was not there. That would not help matters any and would only exasperate him with Marietta. She did not tell him that there had been no time for lunch and she was going to have a cup of coffee and a sandwich sent up from the restaurant nearby as soon as she could find time to telephone for it. She did not tell him that she was moving that day and ought to be at home. She just went steadily ahead and did her best. Determined to let her Lord have His way in her for that one day at least and not get flurried about it. And she was greatly relieved and surprised to discover as the day we
nt on that she was not as tired as usual, in spite of it all. There was something restful in remembering that the day was not her responsibility. She had but to go ahead and leave the working out of things with God.

  When intervals of quiet from telephone and patrons came her fingers flew on the typewriter keys. She discovered presently that she was really making progress with the day’s work in spite of the many hindrances. Her heart was at rest, and she hadn’t time to think of dreams or disappointments. Oh, if she could just keep this heart-rest all the time, how wonderful it would be!

  Marietta came in breathless about two o’clock and found Camilla working away so hard that she did not see her enter, writing and taking a bite of her sandwich now and then between pages.

  “You poor thing!” said Marietta self-reproachfully. “You been here all alone all day? You didn’t have a chance to get any lunch? You go now and get a real good meal, and I’ll stay till five. They’ve taken her to the hospital. It was the appendix, and they think they’ve got to operate right off. She’s awful scared. I felt real sorry for her. I left Ted with a neighbor. Poor kid, he’s scared stiff! If I had known Whittie wasn’t here I’d have brought Ted along, but I guess Whittie wouldn’t stand for a child in the office, would he?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Camilla said, smiling. “Poor child! I’m sorry he has to stay alone. I’d tell you to take him down to Mother this afternoon, but we’re moving today and there wouldn’t be any place for him yet.”

  “Moving!” cried Marietta. “Then you oughtta be home yerself. You go now, and I’ll stay here. Ted’s all right for this afternoon. He’s got some picture papers to read. He likes ta read. You go, and I can do everything. I’ll be real careful.”