CHAPTER VIII
AUNT NETTIE MEETS HER MATCH
Mrs. Nettie Colebrook came at half-past five. She was a small,nervous-looking woman with pale-blue eyes and pale-yellow hair. Shegreeted her brother with a burst of tears.
"Oh, Daniel, Daniel, how can you stand it--how can you stand it!" shecried, throwing herself upon the man's somewhat unresponsive shoulder.
"There, there, Nettie, control yourself, do!" besought the manuncomfortably, trying to withdraw himself from the clinging arms.
"But how CAN you stand it!--your only son--blind!" wailed Mrs.Colebrook, with a fresh burst of sobs.
"I notice some things have to be stood," observed Susan grimly. Susan,with Mrs. Colebrook's traveling-bag in her hand, was waiting withobvious impatience to escort her visitor upstairs to her room.
Susan's terse comment accomplished what Daniel Burton's admonition hadbeen quite powerless to bring about. Mrs. Colebrook stopped sobbing atonce, and drew herself somewhat haughtily erect.
"And, pray, who is this?" she demanded, looking from one to the other.
"Well, 'this' happens to be the hired girl, an' she's got somebiscuits in the oven," explained Susan crisply. "If you'll be so good,ma'am, I'll show you upstairs to your room."
"Daniel!" appealed Mrs. Colebrook, plainly aghast.
But her brother, with a helpless gesture, had turned away, and Susan,bag in hand, was already halfway up the stairs. With heightened colorand a muttered "Impertinence!" Mrs. Colebrook turned and followedSusan to the floor above.
A little way down the hall Susan threw open a door.
"I swept, but I didn't have no time to dust," she announced as she putdown the bag. "There's a duster in that little bag there. Don't lockthe door. Somethin' ails it. If you do you'll have to go out thewindow down a ladder. There's towels in the top drawer, an' you'llhave to fill the pitcher every day, 'cause there's a crack an' itleaks, an' you can't put in the water only to where the crack is. Isthere anything more you want?"
"Thank you. If you'll kindly take me to Master Keith's room, that willbe all that I require," answered Mrs. Colebrook frigidly, as sheunpinned her hat and laid that on top of her coat on the bed.
"All right, ma'am. He's a whole lot better. He's been up an' dressedto-day, but he's gone back to bed now. His room is right down here,jest across the hall," finished Susan, throwing wide the door.
There was a choking cry, a swift rush of feet, then Mrs. Colebrook, onher knees, was sobbing at the bedside.
"Oh, Keithie, Keithie, my poor blind boy! What will you do? How willyou ever live? Never to see again, never to see again! Oh, my poorboy, my poor blind boy!"
Susan, at the door, flung both hands above her head, then plunged downthe stairs.
"Fool! FOOL! FOOL!" she snarled at the biscuits in the oven. "Don'tyou know ANYTHING?" Yet the biscuits in the oven were puffing up andbrowning beautifully, as the best of biscuits should.
When Susan's strident call for supper rang through the hall, Mrs.Colebrook was with her brother in the studio. She had been bemoaningand bewailing the cruel fate that had overtaken "that dear boy," andhad just asked for the seventh time how he could stand it, when fromthe hall below came:
"Supper's ready, supper's ready, Hurry up or you'll be late. Then you'll sure be cross an' heady, If there's nothin' left to ate."
"Daniel, what in the world is the meaning of that?" she interruptedsharply.
"That? Oh, that is Susan's--er--supper bell," shrugged the man, with alittle uneasy gesture.
"You mean that you've heard it before?--that that is her usual methodof summoning you to your meals?"
"Y-yes, when she's good-natured," returned the man, with a still moreuneasy shifting of his position. "Come, shall we go down?"
"DANIEL! And you stand it?"
"Oh, come, come! You don't understand--conditions here. Besides, I'vetried to stop it."
"TRIED to stop it!"
"Yes. Oh, well, try yourself, if you think it's so easy. I give you myfull and free permission. Try it."
"TRY it! I shan't TRY anything of the sort. I shall STOP it."
"Humph!" shrugged the man. "Oh, very well, then. Suppose we go down."
"But what does that poor little blind boy eat? How can he eat--anything?"
"Why, I--I don't know." The man gave an irritably helpless gesture."The nurse--she used to--You'll have to ask Susan. She'll know."
"Susan! That impossible woman! Daniel, how DO you stand her?"
Daniel Burton shrugged his shoulders again. Then suddenly he gave ashort, grim laugh.
"I notice there are some things that have to be stood," he observed,so exactly in imitation of Susan that it was a pity only Mrs. NettieColebrook's unappreciative ears got the benefit of it.
In the dining-room a disapproving Susan stood by the table.
"I thought you wasn't never comin'. The hash is gettin' cold."
Mrs. Colebrook gasped audibly.
"Yes, yes, I know," murmured Mr. Burton conciliatingly. "But we'rehere now, Susan."
"What will Master Keith have for his supper?" questioned Mrs.Colebrook, lifting her chin a little.
"He's already had his supper, ma'am. I took it up myself."
"What was it?" Mrs. Colebrook asked the question haughtily,imperiously.
Susan's eyes grew cold like steel.
"It was what he asked for, ma'am, an' he's ate it. Do you want yourtea strong or weak, ma'am?"
Mrs. Colebrook bit her lip.
"I'll not take any tea at all," she said coldly. "And, Susan!"
"Yes, ma'am." Susan turned, her hand on the doorknob.
"Hereafter I will take up Master Keith's meals myself. He is in mycharge now."
There was no reply--in words. But the dining-room door after Susanshut with a short, crisp snap.
After supper Mrs. Colebrook went out into the kitchen.
"You may prepare oatmeal and dry toast and a glass of milk for MasterKeith to-morrow morning, Susan. I will take them up myself."
"He won't eat 'em. He don't like 'em--not none of them things."
"I think he will if I tell him to. At all events, they are what heshould eat, and you may prepare them as I said."
"Very well, ma'am."
Susan's lips came together in a thin, white line, and Mrs. Colebrookleft the kitchen.
Keith did not eat his toast and oatmeal the next morning, though hisaunt sat on the edge of the bed, called him her poor, afflicted,darling boy, and attempted to feed him herself with a spoon.
Keith turned his face to the wall and said he didn't want anybreakfast. Whereupon his aunt sighed, and stroked his head; and Keithhated to have his head stroked, as Susan could have told her.
"Of course, you don't want any breakfast, you poor, sightless lamb,"she moaned. "And I don't blame you. Oh, Keithie, Keithie, when I seeyou lying there like that, with your poor useless eyes--! But you musteat, dear, you must eat. Now, come, just a weeny, teeny mouthful toplease auntie!"
But Keith turned his face even more determinedly to the wall, andmoved his limbs under the bed clothes in a motion very much like akick. He would have nothing whatever to do with the "weeny, teenymouthfuls," not even to please auntie. And after a vain attempt toremove his tortured head, entirely away from those gently strokingfingers, he said he guessed he would get up and be dressed.
"Oh, Keithie, are you well enough, dear? Are you sure you are strongenough? I'm sure you must be ill this morning. You haven't eaten a bitof breakfast. And if anything should happen to you when you were in MYcare--"
"Of course I'm well enough," insisted the boy irritably.
"Then I'll get your clothes, dear, and help you dress, if you will becareful not to overdo."
"I don't want any help."
"Why, Keithie, you'll HAVE to have some one help you. How do yousuppose your poor blind eyes are going to let you dress yourself allalone, when you can't see a thing? Why, dear child, you'll have tohave help now about everything yo
u do. Now I'll get your clothes.Where are they, dear? In this closet?"
"I don't know. I don't want 'em. I--I've decided I don't want to getup, after all."
"You ARE too tired, then?"
"Yes, I'm too tired." And Keith, with another spasmodic jerk under thebedclothes, turned his face to the wall again.
"All right, dear, you shan't. That's the better way, I think myself,"sighed his aunt. "I wouldn't have you overtax yourself for the world.Now isn't there anything, ANYTHING I can do for you?"
And Keith said no, not a thing, not a single thing. And his face wasstill to the wall.
"Then if you're all right, absolutely all right, I'll go out to walkand get a little fresh air. Now don't move. Don't stir. TRY to go tosleep if you can. And if you want anything, just ring. I'll put thislittle bell right by your hand on the bed; and you must ring if youwant anything, ANYTHING. Then Susan will come and get it for you.There, the bell's right here. See? Oh, no, no, you CAN'T see!" shebroke off suddenly, with a wailing sob. "Why will I keep talking toyou as if you could?"
"Well, I wish you WOULD talk to me as if I could see," stormed Keithpassionately, sitting upright in bed and flinging out his arms. "Itell you I don't want to be different! It's because I AM differentthat I am so----"
But his aunt, aghast, interrupted him, and pushed him back.
"Oh, Keithie, darling, lie down! You mustn't thrash yourself aroundlike that," she remonstrated. "Why, you'll make yourself ill. There,that's better. Now go to sleep. I'm going out before you can talk anymore, and get yourself all worked up again," she finished, hurryingout of the room with the breakfast tray.
A little later in the kitchen she faced Susan a bit haughtily.
"Master Keith is going to sleep," she said, putting down the breakfasttray. "I have left a bell within reach of his hand, and he will callyou if he wants anything. I am going out to get a little air."
"All right, ma'am." Susan kept right on with the dish she was drying.
"You are sure you can hear the bell?"
"Oh, yes, my hearin' ain't repaired in the least, ma'am." Susan turnedher back and picked up another dish. Plainly, for Susan, the matterwas closed.
Mrs. Colebrook, after a vexed biting of her lip and a frowning glancetoward Susan's substantial back, shrugged her shoulders and left thekitchen. A minute later, still hatless, she crossed the yard andentered the McGuires' side door.
"Take the air, indeed!" muttered Susan, watching from the kitchenwindow. "A whole lot of fresh air she'll get in Mis' McGuire'skitchen!"
With another glance to make sure that Mrs. Nettie Colebrook was safelybehind the McGuires' closed door, Susan crossed the kitchen and liftedthe napkin of the breakfast tray.
"Humph!" she grunted angrily, surveying the almost untouchedbreakfast. "I thought as much! But I was ready for you, my lady. Toastan' oatmeal, indeed!" With another glance over her shoulder at theMcGuire side door Susan strode to the stove and took from the oven aplate of crisply browned hash and a hot corn muffin. Two minuteslater, with a wonderfully appetizing-looking tray, she tapped atKeith's door and entered the room.
"Here's your breakfast, boy," she announced cheerily.
"I didn't want any breakfast," came crossly from the bed.
"Of course you didn't want THAT breakfast," scoffed Susan airily; "butyou just look an' see what I'VE brought you!"
Look and see! Susan's dismayed face showed that she fully realizedwhat she had said, and that she dreaded beyond words its effect on theblind boy in the bed.
She hesitated, and almost dropped the tray in her consternation. Butthe boy turned with a sudden eagerness that put to rout her dismay,and sent a glow of dazed wonder to her face instead.
"What HAVE you got? Let me see." He was sitting up now."Hash--and--johnny-cake!" he crowed, as she set the tray before him,and he dropped his fingers lightly on the contents of the tray. "Anddon't they smell good! I don't know--I guess I am hungry, after all."
"Of course you're hungry!" Susan's voice was harsh, and she wasfiercely brushing back the tears. "Now, eat it quick, or I'll be sick!Jest think what'll happen to Susan if that blessed aunt of yours comesan' finds me feedin' you red-flannel hash an' johnny-cake! Now I'll beup in ten minutes for the tray. See that you eat it up--every scrap,"she admonished him, as she left the room.
Susan had found by experience that Keith ate much better when alone.She was not surprised, therefore, though she was very much pleased--atsight of the empty plates awaiting her when she went up for the trayat the end of the ten minutes.
"An' now what do you say to gettin' up?" she suggested cheerily,picking up the tray from the bed and setting it on the table.
"Can I dress myself?"
"Of course you can! What'll you bet you won't do it five minutesquicker this time, too? I'll get your clothes."
Halfway back across the room, clothes in hand, she was brought to asudden halt by a peremptory: "What in the world is the meaning ofthis?" It was Mrs. Nettie Colebrook in the doorway.
"I'm gettin' Keith's clothes. He's goin' to get up."
"But MASTER Keith said he did not wish to get up."
"Changed his mind, maybe." The terseness of Susan's reply and theexpression on her face showed that the emphasis on the "Master" wasnot lost upon her.
"Very well, then, that will do. You may go. I will help him dress."
"I don't want any help," declared Keith.
"Why, Keithie, darling, of course you want help! You forget, dear, youcan't see now, and--"
"Oh, no, I don't forget," cut in Keith bitterly. "You don't let meforget a minute--not a minute. I don't want to get up now, anyhow.What's the use of gettin' up? I can't DO anything!" And he fell backto his old position, with his face to the wall.
"There, there, dear, you are ill and overwrought," cried Mrs.Colebrook, hastening to the bedside. "It is just as I said, you arenot fit to get up." Then, to Susan, sharply: "You may put MasterKeith's clothes back in the closet. He will not need them to-day."
"No, ma'am, I don't think he will need them--now." Susan's eyesflashed ominously. But she hung the clothes back in the closet, pickedup the tray, and left the room.
Susan's eyes flashed ominously, indeed, all the rest of the morning,while she was about her work; and at noon, when she gave the call todinner, there was a curious metallic incisiveness in her voice, whichmade the call more strident than usual.
It was when Mrs. Colebrook went into the kitchen after dinner forKeith's tray that she said coldly to Susan:
"Susan, I don't like that absurd doggerel of yours."
"Doggerel?" Plainly Susan was genuinely ignorant of what she meant.
"Yes, that extraordinary dinner call of yours. As I said before, Idon't like it."
There was a moment's dead silence. The first angry flash in Susan'seyes was followed by a demure smile.
"Don't you? Why, I thought it was real cute, now."
"Well, I don't. You'll kindly not use it any more, Susan," repliedMrs. Colebrook, with dignity.
Once again there was the briefest of silences, then quietly cameSusan's answer:
"Oh, no, of course not, ma'am. I won't--when I work for you. There,Mis' Colebrook, here's your tray all ready."
And Mrs. Colebrook, without knowing exactly how it happened, foundherself out in the hall with the tray in her hands.
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