Where Two Ways Met
Page 5
“Yes, azaleas are lovely, too,” said Mrs. Madison, “but while they are here, I enjoy your daffodils.”
“Well, I’m glad somebody gets some good out of them, I’m sure, for frankly, I don’t care for them. But then, dear me, everybody can’t think alike. But I’m forgetting entirely the main thing that I came over for. You see, our Woman’s Club is making a drive for new members, just quietly, you know. Each one of us is trying to bring somebody we think would be an addition to our number, just the right kind of congenial people, you know, and I wanted to ask you if you wouldn’t be my new member. You never have been a member here, have you?”
“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Madison serenely. “I believe I was one of the original members long ago. But I had to give it up and resign. I really couldn’t spare the time.”
“You mean you were a charter member, and you gave it up?” said the astonished caller, looking at the woman to whom she had been pleased to condescend with new respect. “But I don’t understand. What was wrong with the club? I suppose that must have been in its early days when things were rather crude. I can’t imagine any member being willing to resign now.”
“Oh, there was nothing wrong with the club,” said Mrs. Madison with a smile. “I just didn’t have the time to give to it. I was a young housekeeper with three little children, and my strength and my time were, of course, limited.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Harmon, “what a pity! But you’re not hampered in that way now. Your daughters are both married, and you have a marvelous maid, I’ve heard.”
“No, I wouldn’t have the same reasons, but you see, other things have come in and taken my time, and my church work really takes all my extra time.”
“Oh, but you don’t know what wonderful times we have,” said the neighbor, waxing eloquent. “We are such a charming group, of the very best people in town, such delightful social affairs and marvelous lectures by the greatest men on all the subjects of the day. One gets such a clear idea of all the great themes of the day, political, psychological, literary, stated in such simple terms that the most dense can really understand. It’s wonderful what that club has done for me. They even take up religion now and then, though not too seriously, because there are members from all denominations, and of course we wouldn’t allow anything that would antagonize anyone. But it’s just too delightful. You haven’t attended in some time, I take it.”
“Why no, I haven’t,” admitted the woman gently, “but of course I know a great deal about it, and I often see the notices of your program.”
“Well, since you haven’t been in some time, I don’t think you ought to decide without going again, do you? Why can’t you go over with me tonight and just sample it? You wouldn’t have any trouble getting in, of course, if you find you want to join again, since you were a charter member. They would just jump at the chance of getting you. Can’t you go tonight? Of course, we usually have our club meetings in the afternoon, but this evening, on account of its being an anniversary, we voted to have it in the evening, and they were hoping to get charter members. Will you go with me tonight?”
“Oh, I couldn’t, not tonight,” said Mrs. Madison. “I have another engagement.”
“Oh, break it then, and come with me. Please do!”
Mrs. Harmon was almost surprised at herself, coaxing this hitherto despised neighbor to go to her precious club, but since she had been in the room she had been noting a number of tasteful, expensive things about the house that astonished her. The handsome antique rugs, the tasteful antique furniture, lovely bits of decoration, the china closet through whose glass doors she caught glimpses of priceless dishes and quaint silver such as she had longed in vain to possess. And also, since this woman had been a charter member, why, of course, she must be far more worthwhile than she had ever dreamed.
But Mrs. Madison just smiled and answered quietly.
“I’m sure it is very sweet of you to ask me, but it would be quite impossible for me to go anywhere tonight. We have our Bible study class at the church tonight, and I never miss that.”
“Oh, only a Bible class? Why, of course you can miss a Bible class. You mean you teach a class of children the Bible? How self-sacrificing of you. But surely you could get a substitute to teach them just for once.”
“Oh, I don’t teach,” laughed Mrs. Madison. “We have one of the best-known Bible teachers in the country. He is much sought after and has eighteen Bible classes a week, besides his church, which he serves as pastor on the other side of the city. And it isn’t children. It is grown people. Perhaps you’ll come with me sometime and visit? I assure you, he is interesting!”
“Oh, thank you, but I don’t really think I’d be interested. I always thought the Bible was frightfully dull. I don’t see how you get people out in the evening just for Bible study.”
“Well, we do. Our room is more than full, and it is so interesting we have to turn the lights out to make the people go home.”
“Why, the perfect idea! Perhaps I might come sometime just out of curiosity, if it were in the daytime. But my evenings are always so full. We always go to a play or go dancing, or to some dinner when my husband is at home, and he just doesn’t see having me go off without him. If we don’t have any more exciting engagement, we go to the movies, so I really haven’t any vacant evenings. And besides, this wouldn’t be at all in my line. But I do wish I could persuade you to come with me tonight, just for once. We really have a marvelous program. A star actress from Hollywood, a real star from Hollywood, is going to be present and will say a few words, and that’s something you really can’t afford to miss.”
Again that gentle, quiet smile.
“I’m afraid I’m a good deal like you in my excuse,” she said. “I think your program would be a little out of my line, and I wouldn’t be interested. I am sorry to seem unappreciative of your thoughtfulness, but I really can’t accept your invitation, for I mustn’t miss the class tonight. It’s important. Some questions were asked last week that are to be answered tonight, and I’m anxious to take down the answers. But of course I thank you for your kind thought of me. And if you ever change your mind and would like to try out our Bible study class, just let me know and I’ll be glad to take you with me.”
“Oh, that’s awfully kind I’m sure,” said Mrs. Harmon with a contemptuous toss of her well-groomed head, “but I’m afraid I wouldn’t ever have time for a thing like that. Well, I really must hurry back! I have a very important committee meeting this morning, and I must give my orders for the day before I go.”
She arose with another rather jealous look around the pleasant dining room, and a sudden remembrance that she hadn’t made the slightest advance in the matter for which she really made this visit. She hadn’t found out a thing about Paige Madison’s job and whether he was really linked with the Chalmers Company. Suddenly she swung around.
“Oh, I forgot!” she said pleasantly. “I meant to say that if your son is hunting a good job somewhere, I’m sure my husband will be glad to put in a good word for him.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you, Mrs. Harmon,” said Mrs. Madison, “but I don’t think my son will need to bother anyone. He has his own ideas of what he’s going to do, you know. Now that the boys are home from service, they seem even more independent than before they went. But I’m sure we thank you for your kindness, and we shall enjoy these strawberries a lot. And when my peas come into bearing I’ll be sending you over some. I believe you said you didn’t have any, and ours have always been very nice and sweet.”
“Why, how perfectly gorgeous. No, we haven’t any peas in our garden, and I just adore them. Thank you so much, and I shall be just waiting eagerly for them to come.”
And so Mrs. Harmon went soberly home, reflecting that she hadn’t gained the least bit of news about the Madison family and hadn’t even a guess coming as to whether young Madison was working for the Chalmers Company or not.
Was that plain, quiet-looking woman so very clever that she could see t
hrough what she had been trying to do, to get knowledge from her? And how neatly and coolly she had evaded all the questions! Even when she asked directly and offered to help her son, although heaven knew her husband had never offered to do anything for that next-door neighbor’s son, and he never would. If she suggested it, he would only rage. He didn’t like quiet church people who took their pleasure in studying the Bible. Imagine it! It would seem rank to him even if she ever dared to suggest it to him, and she was really relieved that her offer had not been accepted. Although, of course, she never would have asked him; she would have got around it in some way. There were always pleasant white lies whereby one could get out of careless promises, and she had no conscience against such.
So now she went home, puzzling to know whether Paige Madison really had a distinguished job with aristocratic people, or whether he hadn’t!
Well, anyway, she needn’t worry, for though she had gone as far as possible in offering to sponsor Mrs. Madison in the Woman’s Club, her offer had been firmly, almost amusedly, declined. What was the woman made of? Wasn’t she human? To choose a Bible class in place of the likelihood of being prominent in a flourishing woman’s club! Imagine it! Well, that was that, and she was really glad she was out of it all. It might have been an awful chance she had taken if the woman had decided to go with her and she had been obliged to introduce her to Mrs. Chalmers! For Mrs. Chalmers had a way of making anyone very uncomfortable if they presumed to bring some undesirable to their sacred club, and instead of finding a royal road to the Chalmerses’ favor, she might have brought down retribution upon her aspiring head.
So she entered her own home, rather well satisfied with herself. At least she didn’t have to watch any longer to find out if the boy next door went out to a regular job every morning and evening. Well, that was a relief at least. But there were those luscious strawberries, utterly wasted on a neighbor she didn’t care a fig for. Well, next time she would wait till she was sure of something before she acted.
So Mrs. Harmon went into the house thanking her lucky stars that she was safely through this experience without getting into any serious trouble. It wouldn’t be difficult to drop Mrs. Madison like a hotcake if it became necessary.
Nevertheless, in the back of her mind there lingered the haunting possibility that, after all, she might be missing a chance. If it just should be that young Madison had a job with the Chalmers Company, she could easily pick up the dropped threads and get in with the Madisons after all. Through those strawberries, and the green peas that had been promised, she could get a hold when something became sure.
So, with relief she went into her house and set herself to find a new maid and get her life into normal lines again.
Chapter 4
Three days later Paige came home from the office rather early. He had not seen Miss Chalmers since the evening he had taken dinner with her family, and he was not particularly anxious to see her. He had enough problems of his own without taking on a girl, any girl, even a girl who was expecting to be a great heiress. It just wasn’t a question he cared to take up at this time. Girls were an awful nuisance, anyway, always a complication when one had serious matters to consider. And the more Paige saw of the methods of the company he was working for, the more he was worried. He tried to convince himself that the whole feeling he had about business was because he had been so long where all considerations were matters of life and death, and not of how much money could be made in any given deal. Probably he would get over this extreme squeamishness about matters that really did not concern him. This was for Mr. Chalmers to worry over, not a mere assistant. And anyway, he had nothing definite to go on yet, just hunches.
So he was glad to get home a little earlier than usual and enjoy the sensation of doing just what he pleased, at least for an hour or so. But as he stepped into the house after parking the old car in the garage, he heard the telephone ringing. He heard the faithful old cook coming down hurriedly from the third story to answer it, but she would certainly not be down to answer before the people had hung up, not with her lame feet that had to clump down a half step at a time. Quickly he stepped across the hall and took the receiver himself. “Yes?”
Then a queer, excited voice began to speak.
“Is this somebody who lives across from the preacher?”
He had to ask over twice before he really gathered what was being asked.
“You mean do we live across the road from the minister?” he asked.
“That’s right. Will you please go cross an’ ask my girl’s teacher to come right away. My girl is dyin’ an’ she wants her teacher. She wants a prayer before she dies. Please go queek! She’s cryin’ awful bad.”
“Who are you?” asked Paige calmly.
“That don’t make no matter,” said the excited voice, which had now added tears and occasional frantic sobs to the conversation. “Just tell her Nannie wants her. She’ll know.”
“But who is your child’s teacher? Is it the minister’s wife?”
“Na, na!” came the sobbing voice. “No wife. She is his girl!”
“You mean the minister’s daughter?”
“Yah, yah, you get her queek?”
“You mean you want the minister?”
“No, no, I want my girl’s teacher! You get my girl’s teacher queek! My girl’s dyin’!” And the voice broke in hopeless sobbing.
“All right! But you’ll have to tell me your name, and where you live.”
“Tell her Nannie wants her,” sobbed the woman. “She’ll know.”
“Wait a minute,” said Paige, as he signaled the cook. “Come here, Phoebe; see if you can find out who this is and just who it is she wants. She says her child is dying and she wants her teacher. If you can find out who she is and where she lives, perhaps you would know who her teacher is.”
Grimly, Phoebe took the receiver. She was used to answering calls for help from the minister.
“Yes? Who are you? Oh, Nannie Shambley’s mother? What do you say? Nannie is dying? Who said so? Have you had the doctor?”
The words of the distressed woman came clearly from the instrument, and Paige heard them.
“No, no doctor. We can’t have the doctor. We haven’t paid his bill yet.”
“That’s nonsense!” said Phoebe crossly. “Any doctor would come to a dyin’ person whether his bill was paid or not.”
“No, no!” came the wailing protest. “My husband says no! He can’t pay.”
“All right,” said Pheobe grimly, “I’ll see what I can do.” She turned around grimly to explain.
“It’s Mrs. Shambley. They’re awful poor people way out in the country, and her little girl is in June Culbertson’s Sunday school class, but Mrs. Shambley didn’t know how to get Miss June. She says they told her the Culbertson phone was out of order. I guess I’ll have to run across and tell Miss June. But I better stop and put the potatoes in the oven first. Your ma and pa’ll be pretty hungry after that long cold ride.”
“Where did they go, Phoebe?”
“Oh, they went up to that old Mr. Marshall’s funeral. You know he useta be an elder in the church over here, and then he moved up to live with his son, the other side of Bryson Centre, and he had a stroke a few weeks ago and has just died. I wouldn’t wonder if Dr. Culbertson went, too. If he did, I don’t see how Miss June’s gonta get to that little Nannie, if she really is dyin’. If her father took the car, she won’t have any way to get there. But I’ll run over and give her the message anyway, after I get the potatoes in the oven.”
“Oh, said Paige pleasantly, “don’t hurry, Pheobe, I can run over and give the message. I should think we ought to do something about a doctor, too, if it’s really a matter of life and death.”
“Well, yes, mebbe,” said Phoebe. “I expect your mother would say so ef she was here.”
“I’ll see,” said Paige, as he hurried out and over to the pretty little stone house his mother had pointed out as being the abode of the new minister.
“I am Paige Madison,” he said courteously, “and I’m bringing a message for Miss June Culbertson.”
The girl’s face lighted.
“Come in,” she said in a friendly voice, “I’m June Culbertson.”
“Oh,” said the young man, “I wondered if you might not be. You see, I’m just home, and I haven’t learned the changes that have come yet. But I guess perhaps there won’t be time for me to come in. The message seemed to be imperative. It came on our telephone. The woman said they reported your phone out of order, and she asked us to let you know. It was from a Mrs. Shambley, and she said Nannie was dying, and calling for you. She wanted you to hurry!”
“Oh!” said the girl with a flutter of her hand to her throat. “Poor little Nannie! But—I’m not sure I can get there! Dad has the car. He and Mother went to a funeral. And I guess your father and mother have gone to the same place. I wonder if I can get hold of a taxi in a hurry?”
“What’s the matter with my taxiing you?” offered Paige pleasantly. “Of course, our old car isn’t much to look at, but it still runs on four wheels and does make fairly good time at that, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh would you take me? Thank you so much. It’s rather a long walk if there is need of hurry.”
“I’ll be delighted,” said Paige. “And by the way, the woman said they had no doctor. She said the bill wasn’t paid and her husband wouldn’t let her get the doctor again. Do you happen to know who their doctor is?”
“Oh, why yes,” said June. “It’s Dr. Sherburn. I’ll call him. He may not be at home, but they’d know where to contact him. And I’ll be ready in three minutes.”