So the night went on, and Jennifer, partly dreaming of the past and grieving over the days that were gone forever, drove on through the dark woods and past occasional little detached dark dwellings, driving into a new life and a new world, leaving all that had made the former life glad. What would the new life bring? she wondered.
Chapter 9
Aunt Petra had gone to the telephone around ten o’clock that evening and called up the Graeme house. When they didn’t answer she gave the operator a fine line of argument that would have done credit to a high-pressure business executive.
“Operator! Operator! Why don’t you ring that number? I certainly shall have to report you if this goes on many more minutes. I’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes holding this receiver, and I’ve had no service at all. What in the world is the matter? They don’t answer? You’ve been ringing them all this time? Well, I didn’t hear you ring, but I suppose I’ve got to take your word for it. Please ring them again, now. Yes, I said ring them again! They must be there. Of course they are there! I know they are there! They’ve just had a death in the family! Two, in fact. They wouldn’t be out on the first night after a funeral, would they? Well, I know they are there! Is it possible that the much-boasted telephone service has failed? Have I got to get someone to take the car and go after them? What? Twenty minutes? No, I don’t want you to call them in twenty minutes. I want them now, and it’s your business to rouse them. If you were ringing that bell in the right way I know they would hear it! Asleep? Not they. They are the kind that sit up till all hours. What? Who? The chief operator? Well, I suppose I can talk to her if you won’t do anything more about this, but if I do I certainly will make it plain just how inadequate you have been!”
Aunt Petra had it out with the chief operator, gave her several pieces of her mind, and at last hung up and came back into the living room indignantly.
Her sister Majesta Best and her brother-in-law Pemberton Best were sitting there in large comfortable chairs. They had been having dinner with her and discussing the turn of affairs that day in the Graeme situation. It had been to settle some trivial point about what had happened last week just before the Graemes met their tragic death that Aunt Petra had gone to the telephone to call up Jennifer and ask a few questions.
She arrived back in the living room with her eyes flashing fire and her chin up. It wasn’t going to be very pleasant for the telephone company the next morning, that was plain to be seen, or for the young Graemes, when Aunt Petra got in touch with them.
“Well, I declare, things are coming to a pretty pass when you can’t even depend on the telephone company! And I own some stock in the company, too. I certainly shall take steps to get rid of it tomorrow unless they dismiss that operator. Yes, and the chief operator, too. Did you hear what I said to them, Majesta?”
“Yes. We heard. We couldn’t well help it!” said Majesta, nodding her head sleepily. She had eaten heavily of the duck dinner with trimmings and was beginning to be drowsy and to feel that all her garments were too tight. Her answer was almost in the tone of a purr.
“We heard!” echoed Pemberton Best, touching his long fingertips together as he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair he was enjoying. “It’s outrageous, of course, Petra, but you can’t do anything about it. Those large companies are so thoroughly entrenched in their own wealth that the mere individual is helpless, at their mercy. However, Petra, had you reflected that it may be quite true that nobody answered? If the children were out—say, to some of their young friends’ houses, you wouldn’t find the servants staying home to answer the phone. They were probably all off, out of the house, as soon as the children. You can’t expect servants to stay at home and mind the stuff when the master and mistress are dead!”
“Of course not!” said Petra indignantly. “And those servants always were horribly spoiled. I’ve often told Miriam that she wasn’t half strict enough with them. Though I think it was mainly John Graeme’s fault. He overpaid them, and servants when they are overpaid always get insolent and lazy. If I had my way I’d get rid of every one of them and shut up most of the house. But, of course, since the law seems to have the upper hand just now I’ll have to wait till we can get things settled and be really in command. But as for the telephone company, I certainly intend to do something about that immediately, tomorrow morning! And as for the servants, I shall make it my business to interview every one of them tomorrow morning, also, and let them understand just what they should do, law or no law! I got in some good work on the cook yesterday, before I knew anything about that ridiculous will and the guardianship. I told the cook not to have expensive things like roast chicken when it was just the children and no company. Those children eat too much. But the servants eat more. You ought to have seen how many chickens that cook was getting ready for their dinner! But, of course, I suppose the servants were going to get the biggest part of them.”
“Well, Petra, I shouldn’t advise you to do much meddling with affairs until Blakefield gets home!” said Pemberton Best. “You know he is the only one who really has a right to say what shall be done and what shall not. You don’t want to get into a snarl with the law, you know. It would be better for you to work whatever you want corrected in the household through quiet casual suggestions to Blakefield. He’s a reasonable soul, and I’m sure he’ll be glad of help. He’ll probably be utterly confused and confounded by such heavy responsibility.”
“Not he!” said Petra sharply. “Didn’t you hear the way he spoke several times today? Asserting so importantly that the children ought not to be separated? Speaking right out against Abigail Storm, calling her a hard woman! I declare I couldn’t believe my senses when I heard the lawyer read right out that he was to be guardian. John Graeme must have taken leave of his senses to appoint a man like that to take entire charge of such a large fortune! I think John Graeme was crazy, and I shan’t hesitate to say so in court if it becomes necessary. But I don’t anticipate it will go that far. I’m going down to see my own lawyer in the morning, of course, before I proceed in any way; but after that I intend to go and have a session with Blakefield as soon as he returns from New York, and if I can’t bring him to reason, then I shall see what the law can do. We can’t let those poor, innocent children be neglected and their fortune devastated. We’ll have to take it in our own hands and break that will! The fact is that both Majesta and I can bring plenty of proof that John Graeme was not of sound mind, if we care to go that far. You know he was always odd, always did the opposite from what any other sensible person would have done. Too easygoing, too sentimental you might almost call it, too filled with irrational ideas for the betterment of the world. Too fanatical sometimes. Oh, there are plenty of things Majesta and I know.”
“I wouldn’t get into it, Petra!” said Uncle Pemberton, patting the tips of his delicate fingers together serenely. “And I sincerely hope Majesta will have the good sense not to meddle with the matter. It is never wise to get into lawsuits.”
“Now, look here, Pemberton,” said Majesta Best, lifting her chin and looking her husband in the eye with such a glint in her own that his mouth should have been utterly closed for the time being on any wisdom he might be disposed to offer, “I shall certainly do what I think is right in this matter, no matter what you think or say! I know my duty where it concerns my relatives, and I certainly do not call it meddling when it concerns the affairs of my dear niece’s children. I shall do my duty!”
“Your duty is to keep out of things that are not your business,” persisted the old man sadly. “I think I have often told you that before, Majesta, and I hope you will not let Petra’s overzealous nature drive you into something that will make trouble for us all. Blakefield is a good man, and a man of common sense, and if I know anything at all about him I feel sure he will resent any interference on the part of any women, whether in the family or out of it.”
Then Majesta Best rose in her might and turned toward her sister.
“Petra, let
us go into the other room and discuss this matter. Pemberton does not understand our position, and it is not wise to discuss it before him. I know my duty and I intend to do it, whatever Pemberton may say!” And she swept from the room with a royal air, followed by her brisker sister. Pemberton was left, as he had been left many times, to beat off time on his fingertips and wait until Majesta was ready to go home, knowing that his unwanted advice would bring him only the punishment of coldness and utter silence on the part of his wife for the next few hours. He sighed deeply and wondered why women were so anxious to take on responsibilities that were not even remotely theirs and could not possibly bring them any rewards. And gradually as he meditated to the accompaniment of the subdued vigor of the conversation of the sisters in the other room, his eyes closed and he slept.
But Majesta and Petra were not sleeping. They were evolving a plan by which to intimidate Blakefield Graeme and set the Graeme children free from his care, so that they two could manage the entire flock, and also the estate, and get a goodly share out of it for themselves.
“Well, there is one thing certain,” finished Majesta as they rose by common consent to go back to Pemberton, “Blakefield is no kind of guardian for those children, and we must act quickly before he gets to perpetrating anything peculiar. Now, Petra, I think you ought to call up the house again or I shan’t sleep all night thinking of those poor little orphans.”
“Yes, of course I’ll call again. If they all went out, certainly some of them ought to be home by this time. That Stanton takes such airs upon himself! But I’ll see that he understands that his rating as a butler is low if I find out he has stayed out all evening and left the house without a soul to answer the telephone.”
Majesta lingered while her sister tried the telephone again, with as little results as before.
At last nonplussed, she turned from the telephone and looked thoughtfully at her sister. “You don’t suppose, Madge, that they could have gone to the Willises, do you? You know I had a talk with Peter this afternoon, and he told me that he was planning to ask Jennifer to come over to the house tonight and stay for a few days. He was going to suggest they get married right away and run off to Europe somewhere. In fact, I practically suggested that, and he seemed quite willing. Maybe Jennifer went off to the Willises and left the children with the servants, and the servants have either gone off for the evening or gone to bed. But you’d think Stanton would expect to stay up to a reasonable hour to answer the door and the telephone. You would think he’d know that without telling. But perhaps he listened around and found out that Blakefield was the children’s guardian, and he wouldn’t be afraid of Blake. He’d know he could get up a good alibi with Blake. Miriam always seemed to think she could trust that Stanton, but I always said she’d find out some day he wasn’t so wonderful as she thought. I certainly shall give that man a piece of my mind in the morning.”
“Well, why don’t you call the Willises, Petra? If Jennifer is staying there it will ease your mind and sort of open the way for you to go over everything with the servants in her absence.”
“That’s an idea! I will.”
So Petra called the Willis house, and Majesta stood and waited. It was some time to wait, for the Willis servants seemed to have retired also. And even when the butler finally answered the result was not helpful. The household had retired, he said, all but Mr. Peter, and he didn’t know where he was or when he would come in. No, he didn’t think Miss Graeme had been there, and he had heard nothing of her being expected. So at last the dominant aunt hung up and gazed at her sister again.
“I should think there might be other servants besides the Graemes’ that need disciplining!” she remarked, vexed.
“Oh well, I wouldn’t worry,” said Majesta Best, yawning. “Peter likely has taken Jennifer out somewhere, and he’ll bring her safely back. Just let the whole matter rest till morning. It’s not your lookout, anyway. If anything happens it will be just a good lesson to Blakefield, and perhaps he’ll be ready to ask for a little advice now and then.”
“Yes, well, believe me, I’m going to make it hot for him as soon as he gets home from New York,” said Petra.
“Oh, New York. He went to New York, didn’t he? How do you know that he didn’t take his group of orphans with him?” This from Majesta, lifting her chin and snuffing the battle from afar again. “Perhaps that’s the explanation.”
Petra eyed her, startled. Then her brow cleared again.
“No,” she said quite decidedly, “he didn’t take them with him! I talked with Jennifer myself after he left, and so did you. She said, you know, they were going to bed early and get a good rest. It might have been true, of course. Only somehow I never did trust that Jennifer. She always seemed to have some ulterior motive well masked in righteousness, so good you had to suspect it.”
“Well, maybe it is true this time for a change,” said Majesta, yawning again. “Maybe they all went to bed and let the servants go out. But in the morning, if I were you, I would advise that girl that she should never let all the servants go out at once. There should always be one there to answer the door and the telephone. Just let her understand what inconvenience she had caused us. Well, now I think Pem and I had better go home. It’s really been quite an exciting day, and I feel the need of rest. Good night, Petra, and don’t worry too much; it will all come out right. I really think you’ll have no trouble with Blakefield if you can only go at him in a gentle manner and flatter him a little. He is one who has to be managed. It’s humiliating, I know, when our family was really so much higher in the social order than his, but if you want an easy victory it’s certainly best to use a little finesse.”
But after they were gone Petra Holbrook tried the telephone again. At least she would have plenty of gesture recorded to report in the morning.
And then, not satisfied with that, she lay awake for some time fiercely contending with her heart with Uncle Blakefield who had taken his guardianship so much as a matter of course and gone off so inconsequentially after it was announced, refusing to contend with them about it, just quietly excusing himself from their company and going his way to New York, professing a business appointment. As if any mere business appointment were of importance just now when the guardianship of a princely fortune was at stake. He took it so calmly that it couldn’t be possible that he realized how great the fortune was. Strange, she thought in passing, that mere John Graeme had been able to amass a fortune like that! Miriam really had done well for herself, in spite of all their warning to the contrary! What a pity she couldn’t have lived to enjoy the fortune now, instead of leaving it all for a stupid old man like Blakefield to administer, and no telling what he would do!
And then suddenly it occurred to her that Lutie might have come and got the children and taken them home. But that, of course, wouldn’t account for the servants not being there.
Petra Holbrook got herself upon her well-preserved limbs and pranced over to the telephone. She would never humor herself enough to have the telephone moved to her bedside as that fool of a Lutie did, but she remembered with satisfaction that Lutie had her telephone close beside her bed, so it wouldn’t matter if it was late. She wouldn’t have to get out of bed to answer it, even if she had gone to bed early for once in her life. So Petra called Lutie’s number and demanded to know if the Graeme children were with her.
“With me? My goodness, no, Petra! You must be crazy! As if I would have that whole hoard of children! Even if they would come I wouldn’t have them. You know what I think of those young turks! My goodness, no! What’s got into you, Petra? Do you know what time of night it is? After all we’ve been through today! And you calling up in the middle of the night to know where they are! Why do you think they’re not at home and in their beds? The very idea! Even such wild young things as they are must get tired sometimes, and especially when they’ve been through the shock of death. Even they must feel that, tough little nuts as they are! For heaven’s sake, Petra, go to bed and forget it.
What’s the matter with you?”
“Well, Lutie, Majesta and I have been calling up several times this evening to talk with Jennifer, and we haven’t been able to get an answer. I just thought that maybe she was with you.”
“No, she’s not with me! And isn’t likely to be. And if she was, couldn’t it wait till morning? I really don’t see the point, Petra. I thought you were practical. You can’t do anything about it tonight, anyway, can you? I don’t see why you don’t think those children need some sleep. They can’t sit up all night to answer telephones.”
“Well, Lutie, I was thinking about the servants. Surely some of them ought to be able to answer the telephone. I thought I’d just make sure whether you knew anything about them, because I think we ought to be able to check up on what’s going on. You know Jerry and Jennie can’t really be counted on to take any responsibility.”
“Yes? Well, what’s that got to do with tonight? Were you trying to imply that I ought to wake up Adrian and send him out in the car to hunt those wild Graemes? Because I won’t. Adrian has one of his frightful sick headaches, and if I wake him up he’ll have it all day tomorrow, and that’s the only time when he is unreasonable, when he has one of those frightful sick headaches. I wish you’d hang up, Petra. I’m afraid he’ll hear me talking and wake up, and then the damage will be done.”
“Oh, certainly, Lutie! And thank you for being so helpful!” said Petra in a sour voice as she hung up and pattered back to her bed. But she told herself, as she climbed in and settled herself to sleep, that she was thankful she wasn’t as unpleasant as Lutie. Selfish thing! And she further ruminated as she drifted into oblivion that Lutie needn’t think if there was any division of the Graeme treasures when things were sold that she would get any. She, Petra, would see that she didn’t have a chance at anything.
Head of the House Page 11
