Head of the House

by Grace Livingston Hill

  “Okay then, Tryon, get around in the shadow of the building so they won’t see you even if they come out. Then you meet us down the road. We’ll stop again by that big silo, and mind you don’t get caught, or we’ll all be in the soup!”

  This was a job after Tryon’s own heart, and he got out gravely and disappeared into the shadows, while Jeremy released the brake and the car began slowly to go down grade.

  Silently the children twisted their necks to see when the bell was answered and tried to find Tryon in the darkness. This was the most exciting thing they had ever done. But they didn’t see Tryon again after he slid off that top step until they came out to an empty place in the road just beyond the big silo, and there was Tryon nonchalantly waiting in the road.

  He climbed quietly in as if he did those things every day, and the younger brother and sisters regarded him with awe. But the silence was upon them deeply, and nobody spoke for a long, long time. There was the night to look at, and the moonlight in and out of the clouds, and the strange little back roads that Jeremy had studied out, and the strange lonely houses gone dark, and the closed filling stations with their pumps like a row of weird old men and women reaching out appealing hands.

  At last Jeremy said, “We’ve come a hundred and seven miles since we left home.” He said it with satisfaction in his tone.

  Then spoke Heather from the backseat.

  “That means we’re safe, doesn’t it, Jerry? They wouldn’t come this far to find us, would they?” There was a tone of anxiety in the little girl’s voice that made the older ones realize that they were not the only ones who had been feeling the strain.

  Jerry turned with a sorry little grin and glanced at Jennifer, and then said, “Don’t you worry, kid. We’ll be all right.”

  “But, Jerry, they couldn’t find us now, could they?”

  “Well, of course if they broadcasted us and sent the cops out, that would be something else again. But I don’t think they are going to find out we are gone till sometime tomorrow. Uncle Blake won’t get Jen’s letter till he gets home from New York tomorrow, and the others may not get around to go up to the house till afternoon. Of course, they might call up if they had some scheme on hand. And if we didn’t answer they’d think the servants were not doing their duty, and they’d get ready to give them a good bawling out. Boy! I’d like to be present when they find out. I’m glad I’m not in Uncle Blake’s shoes. Still, maybe he won’t tell he’s had a letter.”

  “I wish we knew whether they’ve found it out and are broadcasting it,” said Jennifer. “We’d better keep to the back roads. Have we plenty of gasoline?”

  “Now you worry, will you?” growled Jeremy. “What do you think I am? Of course I’ve got plenty of gasoline, full up, besides some in a couple of bottles in the tool chest, and an oil can strapped among the luggage.”

  “Say, you’re great, brother!”

  “Yes, I am! But I brought the radio from my car. Got it attached. Turn that button and see what you can get. Fixed it so we could get police reports.”

  In wonder they turned on the radio quite softly and listened to the mysterious night calls—warnings of fights in various places, a man asleep on a back porch to be investigated, a shooting affair, a hold-up! They listened a long time, but there was no suggestion that seven Graeme children had stolen forth from their ancestral home and were lost out in the world in the night. No uncles and aunts as yet on the warpath! And Robin, at least, was sound asleep, with Karen running a close second to his regular breathing.

  The night went on and the moon waned, and Jeremy fairly fell over with sleep.

  Suddenly Jennifer came to herself.

  “Jerry,” she whispered, and with a quick look behind she said, “stop the car and you slip out and come around this side. Take Robin in your lap, and I’ll slide over and drive. You are fairly dead with sleep.”

  Jeremy slowed down and stopped, but no one woke up. He came around and gathered Robin in awkward strong arms, and Jennifer slipped into his place and took the wheel. Then they were on again, into an unknown night.

  “Keep on this same road,” murmured Jeremy sleepily. “If anything comes along, wake me up.”

  Then his head and Robin’s snuggled together and he dozed off.

  And now Jennifer, for the first time really alone since the tragic death of her parents, had a chance to think clearly. As her brain cleared from sleep and she drove on in the darkness, heaven and earth seemed to get together and make her stand in awe. She had never thought so much about living before.

  She had to go all through that awful experience of getting the word about the disaster, and the tragedy that followed, and then on through each day until she sat again in the library and was roused from her sorrow by Aunt Petra’s voice and the inexorable words of them all. Well, she had frustrated them! At least she hoped she had, for the time anyway. They might keep on hunting and eventually might find them, but the days would be going by and her majority would be almost at hand. Then surely, surely, darling brothers and sisters! It seemed to her that she had never realized before how she loved them.

  How those outrageous aunts had been disposing of them all so calmly. Had they any right? Well, anyway, if she found out that they did have rights she would take the children and run to the ends of the earth with them before she would let them come under any auntly power. It couldn’t be that Daddy had realized any danger like that. He would surely have done something to prevent it!

  Then it came to her what the aunts had said about herself. How they had so easily settled her fate to marry Peter! Peter! She almost seemed to hate him now, just because the whole thing had been so definitely arranged for her.

  And, of course, Aunt Petra or Aunt Majesta must have talked to Peter or he never would have come around at such a time as this and made those propositions about getting married right away and going away to Europe where she wouldn’t have to be bothered with her family at all. What did he think she was, anyway, that she would consent to do a thing like that!

  Then she thought of her father and mother and lifted her eyes to the blackness of the sky. Her heart cried out, as if those two who were gone from her forever could hear her thoughts.

  Oh, Daddy! Oh, Mother! You know I wouldn’t do a thing like that to your dear babies! Over and over she said it to herself, and more and more she felt she despised Peter.

  She had never thought much about Peter, except that he was good fun to go around with. It hadn’t entered her head to think of loving him. She wasn’t thinking of love yet; she had merely been having a good time. And now the good times were all over and grave living had begun. If she could only get away with this act and keep the children safely away from those cormorants who were so determined to get their hands upon everything and everyone! If of age, what did it matter whether she ever got married or not? She certainly wouldn’t want to marry Peter. If she ever did marry it must be somebody like her father. But probably there weren’t any more men in the world like Daddy. And if there weren’t, she wouldn’t ever marry at all.

  Having settled that she laid aside the thought of Peter as an unpleasant topic and began to consider where and what they should do in the immediate future.

  Jerry, of course, must go back to college in the fall. It wouldn’t do to have him fall behind; there would be a terrible family row. But, of course, by that time they would be at home again, and she could manage all right as soon as her majority was once established and she had made them all understand that she was mistress of the family. She wouldn’t stand for having them interfere, even with advice. She might make some mistakes, of course, but that was up to her.

  In the backseat Hazel was asleep with her head back on the cushions, with Karen’s head in her lap. Karen’s knees were curled up. And in the middle seats Heather and Tryon, backs hunched against the locked doors, heads against the windows, were asleep. By Jennifer’s side Jeremy, with Robin soundly sleeping in his arms, had his head back, his eyes closed as if he were de
ad to the world. But Jeremy wasn’t asleep now. The change to another seat had only sharpened his senses.

  This was Jeremy’s hour to think.

  All this afternoon, ever since Jennifer had told him what the relatives were planning, he had done a lot of practical thinking about ways and means for their immediate safety and exit, and if his dead father could have been there and talked with him he would have been sure to commend him for his sensible plans. But now the family was well on its way, and the immediate hurry over, Jeremy had opportunity to do some thinking for himself. How was all this going to affect him personally?

  When the accident had first happened he had been aware only of horror and loss. Now as he looked through the night at his own future and saw it emerge dimly from a fog of uncertainty, a number of things stood out plainly that he had not even envisioned dimly at first.

  There was the fact that he was the oldest son. Jennifer was older, of course, and her majority would set them free probably, from the interference of the relatives, to make their own plans. But he was the oldest son. And while he might not so soon be counted as a legal dependent for the rest, still there were things a son could do, should do, for his orphaned brothers and sisters, that a girl, no matter how wise and willing she might be, couldn’t be expected to do, things a girl would not even realize were necessary. Therefore it was up to him to stick around and do them. He had done quite a number of them that afternoon, thought he did not realize that they had been unusual. He had thought of things that a man would think of and a girl might not. He had looked after things his father always did. As a little boy, he had often been with him and questioned him about what he was doing and why. These things had naturally come to his mind with the sudden pressure for maturity on his part. It was as if a vacancy had been there, his father’s vacancy, and there wasn’t even a servant to step in and take it, so he had taken it. The functions were, most of them, obvious. He had somehow known what he ought to pack for himself and Tryon, just how to arrange for extra baggage, how to proceed stealthily about filling and preparing the car, how to prepare for contingencies, how to study the map and hunt out back roads, little traveled; where to plan to stop for necessities.

  But now that they were away and the route was all planned out, he began to see vistas opening ahead. They would go on now and somehow get through the three months before Jennifer was of age, and they would finally emerge from oblivion and come back to their home and begin life again, of course. But Jeremy saw that even then his work would not be done. He was the man of the family, even if Jennifer was the one who would come of age first, and he must take his part and protect her as well as the younger children. He couldn’t go back to his college! So that was the thing he had been feeling, unidentified, in the back of his mind all day, was it?

  Well, it was all right. That was to be expected. He couldn’t go off to a distant college and leave them all by themselves, even if he wasn’t legally equipped with years enough to make him a real protector.

  Of course, too, he couldn’t stop college. No one would stand for that. The horde of relatives would rise up in a mob-rage and down him. He couldn’t get away with stopping college. And, of course, he knew it wouldn’t be the right thing, either. Since there was money enough to finance it, and since it had been his father’s wish, his father’s son must have the right education. But he didn’t have to get it nearly a thousand miles away from the rest of the family, now that they were orphaned. There was a university in their own city to which he could go. The college he had planned for had been his own choice, but there was no reason whatever why he couldn’t change it all and stick around home. The university in the city had just as high a reputation as the one in the far west.

  So Jeremy thrashed that out all by himself. Definitely he decided in the dark hours of that night that he would arrange for that change before any meddlesome uncles and aunts could butt in and say what he ought to do. He would show them that he was a man to make his own decisions, even thought he wasn’t of age yet.

  Then, too, there was another thing to think about, and that was Jennifer. She was through college, and that was a help. Good for Jennifer! She certainly was smart, finishing so young! But there was another thought that was disquieting, and that was Peter Willis!

  Did Jennifer care for that poor fish? His heart sank. If she did there wasn’t a thing he could do, was there?

  And just then Jennifer’s thoughts were on the same subject again. Why was it that the memory of Peter made her uncomfortable? Was it Peter himself, or was it just the foregone conclusion that her aunts had uttered? She must get that straightened out in her mind and understand it. She couldn’t have it hanging around tormenting her like something she had evaded, something she hadn’t been fair with.

  Of course, Peter had been dictatorial, annoying, possessive, as if he owned her, and she realized that that had a great deal to do with her resentment at him. But did he own her in any way? Had his companionship become anything definite to her, so that he had a right to presume to think for her?

  But even as the question presented itself to her mind, memory brought back sharply Peter’s utter disregard of her young brothers and sisters, showing that he had no conception whatever of her own feeling of loyalty to them. That might be explainable by the fact that he had no brothers and sisters of his own and might not understand what family ties were. It might be that when these things were explained to him his attitude would be different, but she found herself gravely doubting it. Peter was essentially selfish. A quick glance backward through the years of her acquaintance with him showed that plainly. When a person was born selfish, did he ever get over it? Did she want to pin her faith to a young man who thought for himself first, and foremost, and always?

  To be honest, she realized that he was selfish even in his professed love for her. He hadn’t asked what she would like to do. He had suggested that they get married at once so that they could run away from all responsibilities and have a good time. He hadn’t suggested that he would like to share her responsibilities and help her to love and care for the orphaned sisters and brothers. He had only looked bored and talked about schools, even for a mere baby like Robin. No, she couldn’t think of Peter as ever taking an interest in, and growing to really love, her family. If he knew what she was doing now he would laugh at her for a fool. If he should meet her now out on this dark, unlit way, he would merely try to block her path and even telegraph at once for some of those domineering relatives to put a stop to her foolishness. He would never feel that he must help her and try to make the way easy for her to take care of the children.

  So, if he was like that, was it conceivable that she could ever possibly love him? And if she didn’t love him, of course she couldn’t endure it to marry him.

  Money? Yes, he had slews of money. But then she probably had enough of that herself to get along on, and even if she didn’t, what was money? One couldn’t love a man for his money. And money wouldn’t ever make a happy home.

  Thoughtfully, as she gazed out into the night, she remembered the thrill that had come to her, tired though she was, with the little sleeping brother, dear and warm in her arms, his sweet young breath like clover blossoms wafting now and then against her cheek. She tried to consider the young man who earlier that evening had urged her to come to his home and forget her dear ones. Urged her to consider going away with him and leaving behind all the burdens that disaster had brought upon her life.

  Peter was extremely good-looking, it was true. She had at times been intrigued by that. It had amused her to realize that her escort was one of the handsomest young men in town. Oh, the way he could look at one with those great melting eyes of his, under the long silky lashes, eyes full of deep admiration, eyes full of adoring love! At least that was what she used to think it was in the days when she was proud to go with him. But was it real love for her? Or was it just admiration of something he thought would bring pleasure and honor to himself? Was there something hard and selfish even i
n his love?

  The smile on his full, well-shaped lips! How it used often to stir her! Yet that smile today somehow had not stirred. Those lips had looked too full and petted, like the lips of a spoiled boy. Had the vision she had had of him this afternoon been one of disillusioning?

  Well, the future might possibly bring some better view again, but somehow she felt pretty sure of herself that so far she was not in love with Peter Willis.

  If only the brother and sister sitting there so silently in the dark could have looked into each other’s thoughts, what relief it might have been, and perhaps what an enlightenment for both of them.

  But Jeremy went on worrying about “that chump, Peter” and wondering if there was anything he could possibly do about it, and Jennifer went on trying to be honest with herself and not too hard on Peter.

  Chapter 8

  Suddenly as she drove along through the night Jennifer was weeping, the tears pouring down and dropping on her dress, on her hands, on the wheel. It was the first time she had wept since that awful hour in the library when she had heard the aunts discussing their affairs and the whole overwhelming change in their lives came over her. How terrible it all was! Suppose they shouldn’t succeed in evading the aunts after all. Suppose they should find them and bring them back and fix things so that they could bend them to their will!

  Suppose they should take little Robin and send him off to a school all by himself! Just a baby! Oh, what was the use of living?

  Firmly she set her lips and caught the bitter salt tears. The taste of them was awful in her mouth, like the bitterness that had come to all their lives. Daddy and Mother gone and only herself and Jerry to stand between the others and the world! She caught her breath in a little quick sob, and then Jerry turned and looked at her through the darkness.

  They were traveling through woods, and there was no visible sky, even overhead, so it was thick darkness on all sides.