Head of the House

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Head of the House Page 14

by Grace Livingston Hill


  “Now, Petra, you’re too excited. You just wait till Blake gets back and you’ll find everything will be all right.”

  “You’re no help, Jim Delaney! I thought perhaps you would get to work and help find those children. Wait? Why should I wait? And just give some gangster time to get away with them if they’ve been kidnapped?”

  “Oh, now, Petra. You know you don’t think they’ve been kidnapped.”

  “Well, what am I to think? What could I think?”

  “Well, I don’t see why you should think anything at all. It isn’t your responsibility, you know.”

  “But how do I know but they’ve all been murdered in their beds and we’re sitting down folding our hands and letting them lie there slain!”

  “Oh, bologna! Petra, I thought you had better sense than to get all wrought up like this over nothing. It’s time enough to get excited when Blake asks you to do something. Look here, Petra, Blake gets back from New York sometime this morning. He told me so himself. Now you just go quietly home and compose yourself. I’ll make it my business to see him as soon as he gets back, and if there’s anything that needs doing, I’ll telephone you. In fact, I’ll promise to telephone you even if there isn’t anything you can do. Come, can’t you be reasonable and do that?”

  “But I really think, Jim, that I should tell the police and let them use their judgment, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t!” roared Jim. “And I’ll just tell you now for your own good, Petra, if you don’t keep your hands off this, you’re going to be good and sorry. That’s all!” And with a grim set of his jaws Jim Delaney put his foot on the gas and bowed a crisp farewell.

  “Why, the very idea!” said Petra Holbrook, snapping her eyes angrily. “I knew Jim Delaney was opinionated, but I didn’t think he’d be actually rude. Well, now I shall do exactly what I please! I am firmly convinced that the police should know about this matter at once. But perhaps I’ll go and see Adrian first. Or would it be better to go and consult with Peter Willis?”

  In the end she told the chauffeur to drive to Adrian Graeme’s because she reflected that people of the social position of the Willises might be offended to have the police brought into the matter. One never could tell. Perhaps she had better go slowly as Jim Delaney said. But she would see Adrian. Or would Pemberton be better? But no, Pemberton had advised her last night to keep out of it. Adrian would be better. He wouldn’t, of course, take the responsibility off her hands and offer to go to police headquarters and attend to it for her. Adrian never did things like that. Adrian was really lazy. But Adrian, of course, was always respectable.

  But it turned out that neither Adrian nor Pemberton were at home, and both Lutie and Majesta had gone out on errands.

  On her way back to her own apartment Petra stopped again at the Graeme mansion, reflecting that the children might have got home by this time, and before she did anything really definite about the matter she had better be perfectly certain that they were still gone.

  But though she tried every door and went from window to window investigating, she could find no opening, nor get any response from bell or knocking. The house was closed as thoroughly as ever John Graeme had closed it when he went afar.

  Back at her home, baffled in every attempt, she ate her lunch and then lay down for a brief nap before starting out again, determined to find Blakefield Graeme and make him suffer for all she had gone through.

  But she had been asleep only a few brief moments when the telephone rang sharply at her side and wakened her into keen remembrance of her grievances.

  It was Blakefield.

  “Is that you, Petra? I find a message here that you wanted me to call you?”

  “I certainly did!” said Petra. “What kind of guardian are you, anyway? Do you know what has happened to your orphan charges, Blake, while you go running around the country to New York?”

  “Happened?” said Blakefield genially. “Just what happening do you refer to, Petra?”

  “I refer to their all having disappeared, Blake! Did you know they were gone? Absolutely vanished in the night! Even the servants have apparently dropped out of existence! What do you think of that?”

  “Why yes, Petra,” said Blakefield, still genially, “I knew they were gone.”

  Blakefield had only just read Jennifer’s letter, but from his tone it would appear that Blakefield had helped to plan the whole thing.

  “You know it!” screamed Petra into the telephone. “Who told you? Have you seen Jim Delaney?”

  “No, I haven’t seen Jim Delaney since I came back, Petra. What’s he got to do with it? Is he excited about it, too?”

  “Oh no, he’s cool as a cucumber of course, but I told him about it, and he seemed to think it wasn’t worth worrying about. Said it wasn’t any of my business and that you would look out for everything when you got back. So, naturally, I supposed he had told you. But if he didn’t I couldn’t think how you would find it out, unless perhaps Pemberton had told you; and I was sure he hadn’t, because he was very indifferent about the matter, too. Pemberton, you know, never does favor taking any responsibility about anything. But, of course, if you know all about it, Blakefield, what are you going to do about it? That’s what I want to know. It seems to me that something ought to be done at once. I suppose you went around to the house after you got home, to see them, and found they were gone, didn’t you, the way I found out?”

  “Oh, no,” said Blakefield, “I didn’t need to do that. I knew all about it.”

  “You speak as if you approved of it!” charged Petra angrily.

  “Why yes, I think it’s a very good idea,” said Blakefield.

  There was a distinct pause in the conversation while Petra, aghast, took this in. she was speechless for the space of several seconds.

  “You—think—it—is—a good idea!” she gasped at last.

  “Yes,” said Blakefield, “don’t you?”

  “I certainly do not!” flashed the woman furiously. “A good idea for those harum-scarum children to float off alone to the ends of the earth! You must be crazy!”

  “Oh! Do you think so? Well, you know, I thought it would really be a good thing for them.”

  “Where have they gone, Blakefield?” demanded the furious aunt. “Do you know where they have gone?”

  “Why, they are quite safe, Petra. I assure you they will not come to any harm.”

  “Safe in your opinion, of course. The rest of us might not agree with you. I demand to know where they are!”

  “Well, I’m sorry, Petra, not to be able to tell you that. You see, it was their special request that no one, not even their relatives, should be told where they are.”

  “Outrageous!” said Petra. “And you agreed to a heathenish arrangement like that! You didn’t see how inhuman that was! And you allowed them to dishonor us all by declining to let us know their whereabouts! Well, I should say you are just as much to blame as they are, if not more so. Because you really know better! Such disrespect is astounding!”

  “Well, you see, Petra, when you reflect on what you and the other relatives did, it doesn’t seem so astounding.”

  “Did?” fairly screamed Petra. “What did we do?”

  “You came to their father’s house and coolly sat down and plotted to take those children in hand and work your will among them. You talked openly of their behavior and said they were spoiled. You called them brats and imps and arranged to put your own curbs on them, and then you all but made arrangements to separate them from one another, or worse still to send them up to the dismal old farm and put Abigail Storm over them, a woman whom they all dislike with all their hearts! And all this was discussed while Jennifer sat in the next room weeping her heart out over her own loss. Jennifer heard every word you and Majesta and Agatha Lane said, even the sharp criticism of their dead parents. I am sure you will understand that it is no wonder that the children wanted to get away from this vicinity for a time, and I heartily agree with them in their desire. Tha
t is the reason why I am upholding them in their wish to be away and to run no risk of anything interrupting their seclusion.”

  Petra Holbrook’s voice was hoarse with fury as she answered. “Blakefield, I feel that I can never forgive you for this inhuman stand you have taken against us. I am quite sure that all the family will be outraged at you and will feel that what you have done is unforgivable.”

  “Petra, it was because I knew that the children would all feel that way toward you, who have desired to separate them, that I felt it would be a good thing for them to be away for a time till this could be forgotten and their lives arranged in a normal and happy manner. They were deeply outraged at your suggestions, and the younger ones were very much frightened at the idea of being separated from each other. Remember, Petra, this is not anything that I have gotten up. It was what you said yourself, most of it in my hearing and all of it in Jennifer’s hearing, that has precipitated this exodus. And I have felt that it was as well for them to carry out their plans, until you all realized that you are not responsible for them in any way and that you can have no voice whatever in the decisions that have to be made. I am sorry to have to say these things, but it is quite necessary for you to understand that you cannot interfere.”

  “Interfere!” snorted Petra Holbrook. “As if it would be interference to give suggestions about the care of those precious children. What right did Jennifer have, anyway, to be sitting there eavesdropping where she could hear us? She always was a little sneak! She’s a young devil, that girl is!”

  “You forget, Petra, that it was you who entered her home, her father’s house, and began to plan what should be done with her. If someone had been doing that to you when you were her age, wouldn’t you have resented it?”

  “Of course you would take her part! But you know she should have left the room, or else come out in the open and let us see she was there. I tell you that girl is not to be trusted! She shouldn’t have stayed there and listened.”

  “And I say that you shouldn’t have gone to her home and talked as you did.”

  “Well, I didn’t expect the children to be lurking around eavesdropping. But that’s neither here nor there. What I said was the truth, and I’ll say it again, too! Those children are not well brought up, and they are going to be a handful to handle. And the only way it can ever be done is to separate them. It will be like handling a mob of gangsters if you leave them all together.”

  “Petra, excuse me, but you really haven’t anything to do with the matter. That is all in my hands. And I do not intend to have those children separated! Now, don’t you think we have talked about this enough? We are not getting anywhere.”

  “Blakefield, you are preposterous! As if you could bring up those children! Why, they will ride all over you and will be a scandal in the town! John was crazy to name you their guardian.”

  “I’m not going to discuss that, Petra. The fact remains that John not only made me the guardian of his children, but he talked over with me just what he wanted in case of his death. Remember these were his children, not yours, and he has left very careful direction both oral and written regarding their welfare.”

  “Well, of course,” said Petra haughtily, “of course John Graeme wasn’t the only parent the children had, and it happens that we are closely related to their dear mother. I’m quite sure that Miriam would never have wanted us to sit quietly by and leave her darling children to the maudlin management of a bungling man! Of course, if you will not listen to reason, we shall have to have recourse to the law. We shall regret very deeply to have to do that on account of the scandal that will arise, but we shall do it if necessary. We shall not sit by and let you do your worst. We shall contest the will!”

  “Yes?” said Uncle Blake calmly. “Well, if that is what you want to do, I shall not attempt to stop you. You will have to take the consequences. And you will find in the end the law is a pretty hard and fast matter to deal with.”

  “Oh!” said Petra furiously. “I suppose you will try to fight us. It won’t be an easy matter to get you to relinquish charge of that immense fortune, of course; you who have always been in such moderate circumstances! But you will find that you can’t just walk in and take over a family and a fortune so easily, even if you were related to their dead father.”

  Blakefield Graeme’s voice sounded tired as he replied. “Well, Petra, I guess that’s about all I have to say. If you think that of me I don’t care to discuss it any further.”

  “No, I suppose not,” said Petra with biting sarcasm in her voice. “Well, who are they with? Who is taking care of them? And what has become of the servants? You’re not keeping up a big house somewhere with all those servants for them, are you? Because that’s a foolish waste.”

  “The children are safe, Petra, and living quite modestly and quietly. As for the servants, they have been dismissed, some to other positions, and others to rest until such time as they shall be needed again.”

  “Do you mean that you dared to take it upon yourself to do that, Blakefield Graeme?”

  “Oh no, Petra, I didn’t do that. Jennifer did it. She felt that there was no need to keep the house open while they were away, and she arranged all those matters before they went away.”

  “Well, really!” said Petra. “I’d like to know what right anybody had to do that. I was expecting to take over a couple of those servants myself. I should have been consulted.”

  “Well, of course, that is Jennifer’s affair, not mine. She is the natural head of the house.”

  “Blakefield, is it possible that you have no more foresight than that, that you will allow Jennifer to have her own way, take over all that responsibility and spoil all her brilliant prospects?”

  “Brilliant prospects? What brilliant prospects am I spoiling?”

  “Why, you certainly must be aware that Peter Willis is expecting to marry her, and here you are allowing her to go away with that horde of children. And you are letting her take over the household as if she were an old woman?”

  “It was her father and mother’s wish, Petra, in case anything happened to them both.”

  “Well, that’s ridiculous! Of course, they didn’t expect anything to happen to them when they said that, and they would be the last ones to wish to spoil Jennifer’s prospects.”

  “If you call Peter Willis a brilliant prospect, I personally don’t care how soon it is spoiled, and I don’t believe her parents would call him a prospect, either.”

  “There you go!” said Petra. “That shows just what you are! There isn’t a wealthier, handsomer, better appearing young man in town than Peter, and he stands ready to marry her at once and take her to Europe and show her a good time. He told me so himself.”

  “You don’t say!” said Uncle Blake dryly. “Then I must say I am glad that the children have gone away. I certainly wouldn’t care to have Peter Willis take over Jennifer. He’s not fit to fasten her shoes.”

  “Well, I don’t think you could find another person in the whole city that would agree with you. However, this is immaterial. There is just one thing I want to know. When are those children coming home?”

  “Not for a while,” said Blakefield blandly. “Jennifer doesn’t wish to come back until she is of age and none of you can question her right to run her family the way she thinks she ought to!”

  “Blakefield, you don’t mean that you are going to countenance their staying away all that time? Why, that is simply suicidal! Jennifer won’t be of age for several months, will she?”

  “Oh, it won’t be long,” said Uncle Blake with more assurance than he really felt.

  “But—Blakefield—Jerry has to go to college! And the other children ought to be entered in good schools. I’ve been looking over advertisements of schools and have selected several that I think look hopeful.”

  “All those things will be arranged, Petra!”

  “Oh, you mean that you will arrange them, I suppose, but you know you’re not in the least fitted to attend to th
ings of that sort.”

  “Too bad, Petra, but I guess I’ll have to rub along. Besides, the children have their minds pretty much made up about what they want to do, anyway. And now, would you excuse me? I have a very important appointment with a businessman and must go to it at once.”

  “But, Blake! I must have the keys to the house! I shall need to go over there and take care of things. Shall I stop at your house for them, or will you send a messenger boy down to my apartment with them? There are things that should be looked after at once.”

  “Sorry, Petra, I can’t let you have the keys. But you needn’t worry. All those things have been looked after by Jennifer. Good-bye!”

  “But, Blake—Blake—Jennifer wouldn’t know what they were. She’s never had any experience. She wouldn’t know what to do—”

  But Uncle Blake had hung up and gone!

  Chapter 12

  Almost four lovely long weeks the children stayed down at the boat and vegetated, enjoying every minute of the time, as much as it was possible for them to enjoy anything after the shock and loss they had been through.

  Getting acquainted with one another, they were, all over again, and because of that feeling nearer to the dear parents who had been so swiftly taken away from them.

  “Daddy wouldn’t want you to do that, Robin!” Jennifer would say when Robin started out to climb around the narrow ledge outside the window frames.

  “Oh! Vouldn’t he?” Robin would say in a disappointed tone and then slowly step back and down into safety.

  There were difficulties, it is true, when it seemed as if all the children were especially trying. But Jennifer found that if she just suggested that Mother or Daddy would like them to do a certain thing, they generally succumbed promptly. She found, too, that even with Jeremy and herself, this thought was uppermost most of the time: What would Mother or Daddy have said, or thought, or wanted them to do? It seemed somehow to salve the wounded affections to feel that they were pleasing their parents in little ways.

 

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