Stranger within the Gates

by Grace Livingston Hill

  "Suppose we leave my sister's looks out of the conversation!" said Rex severely. "Get up and get dressed this minute! And another thing, if you ever smoke again in this house, you'll have me to settle with! You never smoked before in my presence. What do you mean by doing it? Was that just a gesture you had planned today to annoy my mother and mortify me?"

  "Oh, didn't I?" laughed Florimel. "Well, I've smoked for years, so you don't need to get on edge about that. Every woman that is a woman smokes nowadays."

  "My mother doesn't, and my sister doesn't, and the girls I have known all my life don't."

  "Oh, they don't, don't they? Well, why didn't you marry one of them instead of roping me into an outfit like this?"

  A stern look came into Rex's face that made him seem a great deal older than he really was, a dawning disillusionment that was to him scarcely credible.

  "You have a strange way of looking at things," he said grimly. "It wasn't my remembrance that I roped you in. You represented to me that you were in a terrible situation and needed protection! However, if that was your understanding in the matter, never mind. We won't talk about it now. The important thing is that we have to go down to dinner and you are not dressed! You can't possibly go down to dinner in that rig!"

  "Why can't I?" demanded Florimel angrily, her eyes snapping. "You'll see if I can't!" She flounced up from the bed where she had thrown herself and marched toward the door defiantly.

  Rex whirled upon her and took her by the arm firmly.

  "Because, however it came about, you happen to be my wife, and I won't stand for it! You've got to treat my family with decency! Whether you like them or not, you've married into a family that has always been considered respectable, and we don't go around in the house in nightclothes!"

  "Nightclothes!" she burst into mocking laughter. "These are not nightclothes. They are very expensive, awfully smart garments for high teas and that sort of thing. In fact, I consider this about the best outfit in my wardrobe. I put it on in honor of your precious family that you are so afraid of, and I don't intend to change it."

  "Then you won't come down to dinner!" said the young husband firmly. "And I'm not bringing you anything up, either. You're perfectly able to come down."

  "Oh, well, I'm not hungry, anyway. When I get hungry, I'll call down to Selma to bring me what I want."

  "No, you won't do that, either!" said Rex, his eyes growing stormy. She hadn't known he could look fierce and angry like that. "You'll get dressed and come down right away and not keep them waiting any longer, that is, if you want anything before suppertime. And I mean it! I'm not waiting for you, either, anymore." And Rex stalked out of the door and shut it hard behind him.

  Rex, until now, had been most courteous to her. She had felt that she had him pretty well in hand and could venture to show her power, for to tell the truth, it irked her sorely to pose as a sweet, virtuous young woman who needed protection. It wasn't in the least in her line. She could hear his footsteps going downstairs briskly, almost hurriedly as he neared the hall below. She could envision the family waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, and she grinned to herself triumphantly and waited. They would probably send him back to say they would wait for her.

  But instead, she heard them all go into the dining room, and presently the quiet tinkle of silver and glass betokened that they were seated around the table beginning their meal, without further delay. Her eyes grew angry; her whole body trembled with her young fury. Her hands were clenched, and she set her sharp little white teeth together with rage. Once she even stamped her foot. But the sound was instantly muted by the heavy velvet rug, and the quiet pleasant voices coming up distantly from below were uninterrupted. She hadn't made the slightest impression. She had expected to hear Rex come flying up the stairs when she stamped her foot, but if he had heard her, he was ignoring it. Her turbulent spirit resented his indifference.

  Very cautiously she went over to the door, turning the knob silently, and opened the door a crack, putting her ear close. But the sounds from below were quite calm and normal. They were talking together as if nothing at all had happened. Yes, and Rex was talking, too! Then he laughed, just a quick, casual laugh, but it didn't sound in the least as if he were all stirred up about her. It sounded rather as if he was relieved that she was not present. He was having a good time enjoying his dinner and his family.

  Her brow darkened.

  Yes, his words came clearly.

  "Mom, could I have another slice of that roast beef? I haven't tasted roast beef like that since I went away to college. They don't furnish dinners like this in an institution of learning."

  "I should say not!" said Paul. "Sometimes I just get so hungry for a piece of homegrown bread and butter I don't know what to do."

  "Here, too!" growled Rex, like a little boy, and then a ripple of laughter went around the table.

  "Poor, undernourished little boys!" mocked Sylvia.

  "Well, I'm glad you appreciate your home!" said Mary Garland.

  "I should say we do!" said Paul warmly.

  It was a pleasant sound of comfort and friendliness that came to the angry girl upstairs, and something else came up. The appetizing aroma of well-cooked food. Florimel was hungry, in spite of her anger. She was baffled, too. She wasn't gaining the dominance she had expected over this family. All her daring had but served to alienate Rex from her, to cool his devotion, which had really been lovely when they started out on this trip and which had been the only reason she had consented to come to his home.

  But now suddenly a look of determination went over her hard, young face. She closed the door, marched over to the closet where she had hung her gaudy wardrobe the night before, and surveyed the lot. What should she put on?

  She decided on a frilly negligee of pale blue chiffon with long ruffles of white and blue falling back from almost bare arms. No stockings, and barefoot sandals of silver with blue satin straps. It was most effective and had the added advantage of taking only a jiffy to don. She gave a glance of self-approval as she passed the mirror, putting up one of the rampant fat yellow curls of hair in the bunch just over her forehead. Then she swung out the door and downstairs.

  She had the satisfaction of hearing a stir of surprise from the dining room. As she suddenly arrived in the room the three boys arose politely, with a sudden assumed formality and, she fancied, quick annoyance.

  "Oh!" said Mary Garland, lifting serious eyes to greet her. "You are feeling better? That's good! I'm glad you came before everything got cold. I never care for warmed-up food. Selma, you needn't take the meat out yet. Perhaps you'll need to bring some more hot vegetables!"

  Rex drew Florimel's chair out for her and seated her coldly. It was then that her costume dawned upon the family.

  "Oh!" said Fae involuntarily and then gasped, giggled, and went into a fit of choking that covered up the episode for an instant. The others gave one quick look and then with averted eyes went on talking. But the happy home atmosphere had chilled. They were all on their good behavior at once, of course, but the cheerful clatter of familiar home life was stilled.

  Not that Florimel minded that. It was not her home, nor her atmosphere, and the quicker she could spoil the pleasure of the rest of them, the better for her purposes. This mother had to understand that she couldn't expect to have peace and happiness as long as she continued that tightfisted program she had outlined for Rex. She had to understand that she and Rex wouldn't stand for her treating them that way. She had to fork over their fortune or expect to have unpleasantness.

  But Florimel was hungry, and the plate of food set before her was exceedingly appetizing, so she silently fell to eating. But there was no smile on her face, and her eyes did not meet theirs with friendliness. For all that she did she might have been a young tramp they had brought in to sit down with the family. She made no response to any questions addressed to her, except yes and no, and ate with her eyes on her plate.

  Presently the family regained their composu
re and began to talk again, quietly, about indifferent matters.

  "Have you seen Phipps Seymour lately?" Rex asked Paul.

  "No, he's gone on that archaeological expedition that the university was sending out."

  "Oh, has he? Say, that's great! I knew he was interested, but I thought they had enough men."

  "One of their men broke his leg in an automobile smashup and, of course, couldn't go, so they took Phipps."

  "Say, that's fine! I always hoped something good would come to him, he had to work so hard when he was a kid."

  "Yes, I guess he was happy about it. His sister went as a missionary to Africa, you know, so that left him pretty much alone in the world."

  "I heard a letter from her read in missionary meeting," said Sylvia.

  "I always liked that guy. Even when he was teaching in high school I thought he was a good guy," said Rex. "I'm glad he's got a good situation. Who had charge of that expedition? Rathbone?"

  "Yes."

  They said nothing in which Florimel could possibly be interested. Girls didn't go to Africa as missionaries in her world, nor young men aspire to a place in archaeological expeditions.

  The conversation droned on, and nobody looked at Florimel except when there was something to pass. Mary Garland tried to include her in the conversation but for the life of her could think of nothing to say except to ask her if she would have more bread or another piece of meat. Florimel answered her questions in short, sharp monosyllables. Stan and Fae were entirely silent, and Florimel looked at them in wonder, pondering how two modern youngsters knew how to keep so still. Yet with it all, the new member of the family could not help but be impressed with their pleasant unity, though their interest was in people and things that seemed to her utterly stupid.

  Occasionally she cast a furtive look toward Rex. He seemed somehow to be a stranger to her, as in fact he was in spite of the bond of marriage. As she ate her dinner in almost utter silence, she wondered whether perhaps she had not overstepped herself by marrying him after all. Perhaps he had more ability to dominate her than she had counted on. She recalled his authoritative tones upstairs and realized that she had finally succumbed to his orders and changed her garments to come downstairs. She wouldn't have believed that of herself twenty-four hours ago. And now that her hunger was appeased, she wished she had not done it. The next time she would starve herself awhile and let them worry. It never paid to give in to people. Especially not to a husband whom she expected fully to dominate in a very short time now. Tomorrow she would go out and buy a few cakes and candies and nuts and keep them hidden to help her through a time of famine in case she found she had to work a hunger strike on this family she had acquired unawares. Candy would help out wonderfully. She had a few dollars stowed away in a safe place where Rex would never see it, against a time of need, and she would manage to have something eatable on hand another time.

  So she kept her chin up and held her head proudly while she devoured the excellent dinner, even to the last crumb of crisp piecrust from the delectable lemon pie. Then she sat back and drooped in what she thought was a becoming manner in her chiffon robes and stared with wonder at them all.

  Mary Garland gave the signal to rise from the table, and Paul, looking affectionately at his brothers, said, "Well, I thought I'd walk around and see old Uncle Fremley. You know, he always likes to have us drop in on him when we're home from college. Want to go, boys?"

  "Sure!" said Rex, brightening at the affectionate tone. "Yes, I guess poor old Uncle Fremley finds time hangs heavy on his hands since he's all crippled up with arthritis and can't look forward to working in our garden next year. Come on, Stan!" And he clapped his younger brother heartily on the shoulder.

  Stan, much pleased, marched after them, and they seized their coats and hats from the hall closet and were off before Florimel realized that they were going.

  She looked up blankly.

  "Where've they gone?" she demanded, looking stormily at Mary Garland's sweet, serene face.

  Mary Garland looked up and smiled.

  "Oh, they've just gone for a few minutes to see our old gardener who has been with us ever since they were babies. He adores them, and they were always very fond of him. It's not far, about three quarters of a mile."

  "Gone to see a servant!" exclaimed Florimel, forgetting entirely the station from which her marriage with Rex had just rescued her. "Well, I like that! I certainly don't think Rex is treating me very well, walking off like that and leaving me all by myself!"

  Her chin went up in the air, and her eyes snapped angrily. Mild yellow-lashed eyes like that snapping fire! It was a curious combination.

  "Oh," said Mary Garland pleasantly, "I think Rex thought it might be a nice time for you and me to have a little talk together and get acquainted."

  "I don't know why I should have to talk to you!" said Florimel. "I never was very much interested in old people, anyway, and we're not likely to have much to do with each other, as I don't intend to stay here. I don't see why we have to get acquainted, do you? You're only my mother-in-law. I didn't marry you, you know."

  Mary Garland looked at the girl in sheer amazement, but she gathered her composure instantly and said in a pleasant voice, "Well, then that's all the more reason why we need to have a little talk and understand each other. Suppose we go up in my room. That'll be cozy, and since you're wearing a negligee it will be just as well to be out of the living room. You know, some of our old friends might drop in for a few minutes to see the boys, and you wouldn't want to be caught dressed like that. It might be embarrassing. We'll just go upstairs!"

  "Embarrassing!" jeered Florimel. "I embarrassed? Well, I like that! Besides, this isn't a negligee. It's a tea gown for a high tea, and it's meant to receive people in."

  But Mary Garland had led the way up the stairs with swift, quiet feet. There was no one to hear Florimel's jeers, for Fae had disappeared kitchenward. And if she wished to continue the conversation, she must perforce follow. She gave one disgusted look around through the empty rooms and then went tearing up the stairs, arriving almost as soon as the despised mother-in-law.

  "Come right in here," said Mary Garland, gently, yet with a quality in her voice that held authority, as she led the way through her own door and drew forward a comfortable chair for the girl.

  Chapter 13

  The three brothers walked into the wintery afternoon with zest. It was good to them to be together again, and they felt a fellowship that even Rex's sudden marriage could not quite dim. In fact, since they had seen Florimel it seemed somehow that there was a new bond of fellowship between them, in that they were sorry for him, tied to a girl like that, so obviously not of his kind! Oh, they still blamed him, of course, that he had got himself into a strait like this, but they pitied him more than they blamed.

  Their talk fell to old times, recalling incidents of their childhood and school days, and Paul even gathered up a handful of snow, casually crushed it into a half-formed ball, and doused Stan with it, who laughingly brushed off the snow out of his collar and gave him back as good as he had taken.

  So they walked down the familiar streets to the little cottage in a quiet section where the old gardener lived. They burst in upon him like rays of unexpected sunshine and rollicked and kidded him the way they used to do when they were young. And how he loved it! How he made them stand in a row to measure their heights! How he asked them if they remembered this and that incident of their childhood in which he had been connected. How he delighted in them!

  They had brought him gifts for Christmas--a subscription to a magazine he liked that had beautiful pictures of gardens in it, a big box of candy that he could share with his friends who dropped in to see him, a warm sweater from their mother, woolen socks, and a pair of comfortable slippers. The old man's eyes were bright with happy tears as he opened the packages and said how much he needed this and that, and how he was going to enjoy them and think of the givers during the long lonely nights when he couldn't sl
eep. What wonderful people they were, his people, his family, he called them.

  When they were away, their hearts were warmed with the quaint words of their old friend, and their own tears were somewhere in their throats, very near the surface.

  "He's a great old Uncle Fremley!" said Paul meditatively, his eyes reminiscent of other days. "And wasn't he pleased, Stan, that you had sent that little tree up for him? Fancy his wanting all his presents hung on it, just like a child!"

  "Yes," said Rex thoughtfully, his mind on the fact that he was going back to the house and would presently have to settle with his angry wife and explain why he had gone on this expedition. "I'm glad we went! We mustn't ever let the old man down. He was always good to us when we were kids, and we often must have been perfect pests when he was trying to work conscientiously."

  "You're right," said Paul.

  But Paul's eyes were on ahead, for he had sighted a couple of girls in the distance who would be meeting them presently. One was Marcia Merrill. He always recognized her at a glance, no matter how far away she was. But the other girl he wasn't quite sure of. Was that Natalie Sargent? Yes, it was. And how was it going to be for Rex, meeting her? She was Rex's old girl. For years they had gone together as children, playing tennis, boating, skating. Rex was married now! Did Natalie know it, and would that be something to explain? Had those two been keeping up a correspondence since Rex went to college? Probably not, or perhaps Rex would never have married Florimel. But what ought he to do about this meeting? Should he forewarn Rex?

  Suddenly Stan looked up.

  "There come Marcia Merrill and Natalie Sargent," Stan said in a low tone and gave a quick look at Paul, a look that almost seemed an echo to his brother's thoughts. Had Stan been thinking the same things? Paul wondered. He was only a kid. Would he be keen enough to realize the situation?