Head of the House

by Grace Livingston Hill

  And little Karen sat there and began to think how Jennifer would be worrying about her, and how Robin would cry, perhaps, and Jerry would get worried looking. It might be almost as bad back at home as the night the crankcase got torn and had to be mended. And sitting there quite still and listening, Karen began to cry, until the lady at the piano got up and went to try and comfort her, but she only shook her head and turned away.

  The meeting was over at last, and crowds came up to the platform to speak to the young preacher and to get a closer look at the little maid who had created such an innovation in the usual routine of the evening. But the young man swept them all away and came over to Karen.

  “Now, little friend,” he said, “shall we go out of this crowd and get into my car and find your way home?”

  “Oh yes, please!” she said with relief and put her hand confidingly in his.

  Another young man who had come to the platform watched them an instant, smiling, and then called out as they were going down the steps: “Is it all right with you to take the early morning prayer-group tomorrow morning, Jack?” And the young man with Karen looked back and said yes, and they went on.

  “Now,” said the young man, “could you tell me the name of the place where you live?”

  “Why, it hasn’t any name,” said Karen serenely. “It’s just a place between. It’s a cottage high up from the road, with mountain pinks around it and a store down the road a little way. Can you find it for me? You helped my brother mend his car!”

  A light broke over the young man’s face.

  “Oh yes, I remember!” he said. “But that was a long way from here.”

  Karen nodded. “But we came a long way since then. This is on the mountain. I was going up above our cottage to see the sunset, and it didn’t set. It just got dark, and then I turned around some and started back, but when I got down-down-down hill a longer way it wasn’t home. And I saw a road and a bridge, and then I saw a bright cross on a big house, and I came here and found you.”

  “Yes?” said the young man gravely. “But you don’t know how to tell me where to take you, do you?”

  Karen looked troubled.

  “It’s below the mountain,” she said, “and there’s a store. The man’s name that waits on it is Sam. Our home is two houses up from the road. It has mountain pinks all around it and rhododendrons, and Robin got tired and went back. He’s been sick.”

  “Yes?” said the young man, looking troubled, and then he lifted his head and glanced around the circle that stood around them.

  “Does that mean anything to any of you?” he asked.

  “Mountain pinks!” said one young fellow. “Doesn’t that sound like Mrs. Foster’s little cottage, and Shufeldt’s store down below? Beech Avenue?”

  “Mrs. Foster was the lady we rented the cottage from,” assented Karen.

  “All right, here we go,” said the young man. “How do we get there?”

  “Cross the bridge and take the highway till you come to the intersection, and ask at the filling station. You turn sharp left and go around the mountain, you know. That’s not on this side. She must have come all the way over and got turned around on the top. Came down the wrong side. Say, you’re tired after speaking. Would you like me to take her home?”

  A look of instant consternation came on Karen’s face, but the young man answered for her.

  “Thanks no, I’ll go.” And then he added with a twinkle. “She knows me, you know, and might not feel so strange.”

  So presently they were seated in a little runabout and going on their way.

  Karen looked back at the bright cross.

  “I like that cross,” she said. “I didn’t feel afraid anymore after I saw that, because bad wicked people don’t like the cross, do they?”

  “I’m afraid they don’t,” said the young man. “But how did you know that?”

  “Well, there are crosses on churches, aren’t there? And there’s a cross down at the corner where the mission is at home. And then there was that name ‘Jesus’ on the roof. What else does it say besides ‘Jesus’? I didn’t know that other word.”

  “‘Jesus saves,’” said the young man. “And there’s more on the roof. It says, ‘Christ died for our sins.’”

  “Oh!” said Karen. “I don’t think I know that one. But when I saw you and I heard your voice, I knew you, because I knew you helped my brother once.”

  “Well, I’m glad you came to me. I’m glad to be able to take you home, and I hope we shall find the right little cottage. But don’t you worry if we don’t find it right away. We’ll find it somewhere pretty soon. If you walked from there it can’t be very far away.”

  “I guess I’m making you a lot of trouble!” she said with a sigh, primly, in a way that would have reminded her family of the nurse who had been supposed to teach manners and all.

  “No, it’s not very much trouble, not yet, and anyway, I like to take the trouble, so you needn’t worry. You see, you remind me of a little girl I used to know a long time ago.”

  “Oh!” said Karen, smiling and showing a sweet weariness in her tired, polite little face. “What was her name?”

  “Why, her name was Jennifer,” said the young man, with a reminiscent look in his eyes as if he were thinking back a long, long way.

  “Why, that’s funny,” laughed Karen, looking up with twinkly eyes. “I have a sister Jennifer. Was this little girl your sister?”

  “No,” said the young man, smiling, “she was just a little girl that came to visit awhile at the house next door.”

  “Oh! And did you play with her?”

  “No,” said the young man, smiling again, “she was a great deal younger than I was, and I had about got through my playing days. But I took her fishing once! And I brought her a little gray kitten with a star on its forehead. Do you like kittens?”

  “Oh yes, I like kittens. But our nurse didn’t like them. She said they were always getting underfoot, and she really was afraid of them, because she would jump if one came around. She made such a fuss that after a while we didn’t have any kitten at all. One morning the kitten was gone, and it never came back! I always thought that nurse scared it away. And now that nurse is gone, and I’m glad. Neither Robin nor I liked her. Of course, she wasn’t my nurse, she was Robin’s, but she acted as if she was mine, too, and I didn’t like her! Neither did my sisters. Have you got any sisters?”

  “No, I haven’t, but I think it would be nice to have sisters. Now I wonder if this isn’t where we turn. There’s a filling station. I guess I’d better ask.”

  They drove up to the filling station and asked a few questions and then drove on, and suddenly Karen cried out.

  “There! There’s the store where we buy the bread and fruit and things. And there! Look up there at that little white house! Oh, I just knew you’d find it. I just knew you’d know the way!”

  They drove up the little lane that led to the cottage gate and Tryon came tearing down the steps and out to the gate.

  “And there’s my brother Tryon!” she cried exultantly, reaching out her arms eagerly to him.

  “Is that really you, kid?” said the boy, peering at her in the shadows of the car. “You bad little kid! Where on earth have you been?” said Tryon. “You’ve had us all nearly crazy! And Robin is very sick! What did you leave him for? You certainly are the limit!”

  Karen’s lip trembled and great tears came into her eyes, and she shrank back.

  “I didn’t mean to be bad, Tryon. I didn’t really! I just went to see the sunset, and it didn’t set, and then I got turned around and couldn’t find the house. And then—then—I found this nice friend of ours, and he brought me home!”

  “Friend?” said Tryon, peering at the face of the young man, his tone a severe imitation of Jerry’s rage.

  “I guess she didn’t realize how far she had gone,” said the young man, looking down at her and speaking a gentle tone. “She’s had a pretty bad scare herself, brother, so don’t
be too hard on her!”

  “Oh!” said Tryon, looking at the stranger. “Why, it’s you, isn’t it? How on earth did she find you?”

  “There was a cross, Tryon, a lovely cross of lights, and a big meeting”—she brushed the tears away and smiled—“and then I heard him talking to the people and I remembered him, and he helped me right away.”

  “Good-night!” said Tryon. “You certainly have given us some scare. I’ll say, it was great of you to bring her back, and we’re all kinds of obliged, of course. Won’t you get out and come in? Jennifer will want to thank you. And say! I’ve got to give the high sign to Jerry. He’s up on the mountain with Sam and the flashlights, hunting the world over for you! Come on in, and I’ll blow the signal to Jerry!”

  He dashed away from them to the porch and caught up the big tin horn, and in a moment there came forth such a series of horrible sounds as never rent the mountainside before, the old tin horn blowing with all Tryon’s might to let Jerry know that Karen was found.

  The young man helped Karen out of the car, and Jennifer came out on the porch to see what had happened now.

  Karen flew up the walk and was folded in her thankful arms and kissed and hugged; and the young man stood by and watched the pretty sight.

  And then quite suddenly Jennifer buried her face in Karen’s neck and sobbed aloud.

  “Oh, Karen, Karen, we were so frightened!” she said. “Oh, darling! Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been to a nice big meeting!” declared Karen, lifting her excited little face, all wet with Jennifer’s tears and a few of her own, with smiles into the bargain. “And, Jennifer, I’ve brought our friend back with me. That is, he brought me back, I mean.” And she slipped down from her sister’s arms and went over to the young man and took hold of his hand. “It’s our friend, sister! It’s the man who helped Jerry mend the car that time in the awful sharp stones. He brought me home!”

  Then Jennifer saw the stranger who had once reminded her of some long-past pleasant time. But he was standing in the shadow now, and she was in the shadow, too, though he could see the sweet outline of her young troubled face.

  “How very kind of you!” said Jennifer. “We are doubly grateful to you now. We have been so frightened we did not know what to do. We are strangers here, you see, and we didn’t know which way to turn for help!”

  “Till we remembered God!” said a solemn voice from the doorway just behind her. And there was Hazel like a little wondering pilgrim who had just seen a light.

  “And we all prayed,” said Heather, stepping out beside her, “and now you’ve come!”

  There came a light into the young man’s eyes, and he said, “Yes, there’s nothing like God to help in time of trouble!”

  And then that awful horn blew three more terrible blasts, and they all looked toward Tryon and remembered Jerry.

  “He’s blowing for my brother. He went up the mountain a long time ago to find Karen,” explained Jennifer.

  “Just after we prayed,” said Heather. “He told us to blow and let him know if she came home.”

  “Do you mean you prayed for me?” asked Karen, with a wondering smile. “Why, how nice!”

  “You darling child!” said Jennifer and stooped and kissed her again. And then suddenly, just as they stood there, they heard a piercing shriek behind them, and there stood Robin, tottering on the lowest step, his little hot red face streaming with tears, and terror in every line of his sick little body.

  Jennifer turned and ran to him, catching him in her arms, just as Tryon let forth another awful three blasts on the horn, and the little boy screamed and screamed frantically.

  The stranger went toward Tryon and put out his hand for the horn.

  “Wouldn’t that be enough just now, till you can explain to the little boy what it’s all about?” he said quietly.

  “Oh!” said Tryon, turning and hearing the frantic screams, “I forgot the kid. But Jerry told me to call him!”

  “Suppose you wait a bit and see what effect this has had. If your brother is anywhere near he must have heard by this time.”

  And then they could hear Jennifer’s low, soothing voice as she sat on the stairs with Robin in her arms, and Robin’s trembling little frightened tones.

  “Fwat is zat awful noice, Jen’fer?” he cried. “Is zat a lion out of my picture book?”

  “No, darling. It’s just a funny old tin horn that Jerry told Tryon to call him with if Karen came back. We couldn’t find Karen, you know.”

  “Is Karen come back? By did her go avay and leave me?”

  “She didn’t mean to go away, Robin. She thought you were all safe with us,” said the sister. “She’s sorry now, and she wants to kiss you.”

  Karen came up and put little wet, loving kisses on Robin’s hot forehead.

  “What makes him so hot, Jennifer?” asked Karen, shrinking back.

  “Oh!” groaned Jennifer. “He has a terrible fever, and I don’t know what to do about it. I haven’t any medicine! If we only had a doctor!”

  “We’d better get to praying again!” said Hazel in a mature, quiet way. “Come, Heather. Come on, Karen! You were the cause of all this trouble. You’d better pray, too.” And they slipped out into the kitchen and went down on their knees beside the kitchen table.

  But Jennifer sat on the stairs with the sick little boy in her arms and did not know that the stranger had stood just outside the door and heard it all. He stepped in now and said quietly, “There’s a fine doctor over at the conference grounds. I could bring him here in a few minutes if you want me to.”

  “Oh,” said Jennifer, “a doctor! That would be wonderful! But I can’t bear to make you all that trouble. Perhaps Jerry will be here pretty soon and he could take the car and go.”

  “He wouldn’t know where to find him and I would,” said the young man. “Besides, it’s no trouble at all. He’s a friend of mine, and he’s a very noted physician from New York. I’ll get him!” And he jumped into his car and dashed off into the night, while the three little girls in the kitchen were praying for help and Tryon, out on the dark back porch, was peering up the mountain hoping to see a light.

  Chapter 18

  It seemed an age that Jennifer knelt upstairs beside little Robin before she finally heard a car drive up to the door.

  Oh, God! she kept praying. Haven’t You heard us? You brought Karen back. Dear little Karen! But Robin is so sick! Won’t You please make him well? Aren’t You going to send a doctor to us? We can’t do anything ourselves. It is the dead of night, and nobody knows us but You! Won’t You do something for us? And Jerry isn’t here! Oh, God, is Jerry lost, too?

  Over and over her heart kept repeating the words until she heard that car drive up, and then she sprang up and slipped noiselessly down the stairs.

  Robin was terribly hot. His soft little body seemed to scorch her hand when she touched him! She was almost afraid to take the doctor up there, fearful of what he would say! Oh, was Robin going to die and go to God and Mother? Of course, that might be better for Robin, but how could she ever stand it? She would feel all her life that she had killed him! The aunts would tell her she was a murderer. They would tell her it was because she had taken him away to a wild, uncivilized place and kept him where they couldn’t take care of him that he had died!

  Tears rained down her face as she hurried to the door to meet the doctor.

  The two men stood just outside the door, and the young man introduced his doctor friend. They both saw her tears but they did not seem to see them, and Jennifer was not conscious of them. She led the doctor upstairs and the other young man stayed below.

  “I’ll be right here if you want me,” he said to the doctor in a low tone. “I’ll go anywhere on errands if you need anything.”

  The doctor bowed with a flash of trust in his eyes and went on, and the other dropped down on a chair with his face bowed in his hands. The three little girls had finished their vigils and closed their prayers because they w
ere too sleepy to stay awake, and perhaps they felt that after once stating the case that was all that was needed and they could trust God for the rest. But the stranger now took up the petition, and he was one who was mighty in prayer, a true child of God who had a right to ask and expect to be heard.

  Jennifer, frightened, hovered around the little bed while the doctor examined the patient. She was dizzy with fear, wishing Jerry would come. Then after a little she heard low talking under the window, Tryon and Jerry she hoped, and took heart of hope.

  But suddenly the doctor looked up.

  “You ought to sit down and rest,” he said, almost like a command. “You will need your strength for nursing. Just sit there beside him while I go down and speak to Val. I want him to go for something in my room. He’ll know where to find it. Have you any ice? No, don’t you go down. I can find a refrigerator if there is one.”

  He took hold of Jennifer and put her into a chair by Robin.

  “I think my brother has come,” she said softly. “But anyway, Tryon, the younger one, is out there. He will get the ice.”

  “You haven’t an ice bag?”

  “Oh no! I didn’t bring it alone!” mourned Jennifer.

  “That’s all right. I have one at my room. I usually cart a few such things along. Now, sit right there, and if he stirs, hold his hand and comfort him.”

  The doctor went down and was soon back with a bit of ice in a basin and a nice clean towel that Tryon had found for him. Then she heard the car drive away again, and soon Jerry stole in silently and stood behind her, looking down at the child, in the semidarkness of the room. She remembered that Jerry must be very tired and ought to have a cup of coffee or a glass of milk or something, but she couldn’t leave just now.

  The doctor was passing ice-cold cloths over the little hot forehead and eyes, and Robin sighed almost contentedly. Now and again the doctor would put a spoonful of medicine in Robin’s mouth and talk gently to him, coaxing him to open his mouth and swallow the nice cold water.