Part 4

Lucy was surprised by the bitter feeling in the tone of her usually silent and impassive father, and remembered his remark.

Nannie spent a great deal of time in beauty culture. She tried all sorts of exercises and devices for preserving her figure and warding off wrinkles. Every recipe she saw in the women’s columns of the newspapers she tested carefully. Each day a large part of the morning was devoted to a faithful observance of these rites, and she never neglected to take her “beauty nap” during the afternoon. Often she would gaze with envy at Lucy’s charming color and clear eyes.

“I don’t want to grow old and ugly, Lucy,” she would say. “I’m so afraid of growing old! Do you think I am beginning to show my age?”

“Why, Mamma, what nonsense! You look like a girl,” Lucy would reply, for Nannie’s efforts were not without a certain kind of effect.

“Do you really think so?” she would ask happily. “Don’t tell anybody I use rouge, will you?”

“I won’t,” Lucy always promised.

After taking up her residence with “Cousin Minnie Sheldon” Mrs. Lockhart seldom visited her daughter.

One summer afternoon, however, a carriage stopped before the Merwents’ gate.

“Why, I believe that’s Mamma coming here,” Nannie whispered excitedly, as the carriage door was opened. “There’s a young man with her!” she added. “Who in the world can it be? You stay here to receive them, Lucy. Tell Mamma I’ll be down in a minute,” and she ran upstairs to change her dress and improve her complexion.

“Well, well, is this my grandbaby?” Mrs. Lockhart ejaculated as she entered the hall and offered her cheek for Lucy to kiss. “You’re a young lady already,” and she surveyed Lucy’s reddened cheeks and well developed figure with approval.

The young man remained in the background, ill at ease.

“This is Kingsley Dodd,” Mrs. Lockhart announced, waving him forward. “He saw you at your father’s office and has given me no peace till I brought him over to call on you.”

Young Dodd, red to his hair, bowed and shook hands awkwardly.

“Where’s Nannie?” Mrs. Lockhart asked, entering the parlor and seating herself. “Sit down, Kingsley,” she commanded her follower.

“Mamma will be down in a minute,” explained Lucy.

Nannie delayed many minutes, and Lucy became more and more self-conscious under the influence of her grandmother’s continued scrutiny and the confusion of the new acquaintance, answering briefly his timid observations and Mrs. Lockhart’s peremptory questions.

At last Nannie appeared on the stairs in her best afternoon frock.

“Why, Mamma,” she exclaimed, “how nice of you! I’m so glad to see you.”

“You kept us waiting long enough if you _are_ glad.”

“I was in my bath,” lied Nannie, “and couldn’t come sooner.”

Lucy looked at her mother.

“Well, I’m glad you still take baths,” remarked Mrs. Lockhart as Nannie kissed her.

Nannie laughed.

“We’re not that poor,” she tittered.

“This is Mr. Kingsley Dodd.” Mrs. Lockhart motioned her companion forward again. “Judge Dodd’s only son. You remember Judge Dodd, Nannie.”

“Yes indeed!” Nannie smiled her sweetest and shook hands with Kingsley. “We’re delighted to know you, too,” she declared as she beamed on the youth.

“Nannie, I want to see that old dresser your father gave you. We’re furnishing a guest room in antiques and maybe it will just fit in. If it does, I’ll give you another,” said Mrs. Lockhart after a brief conversation.

“But, Mamma----” Nannie began.

Mrs. Lockhart frowned at her meaningly.

“All right,” Nannie acquiesced hastily, and the two women ascended the stairs.

“Young Kingsley is greatly taken with Lucy,” explained Mrs. Lockhart, coming to the point at once as soon as they were out of hearing of Lucy and her guest. “You know all Judge Dodd’s money will go to Kingsley. It’s Lucy’s great chance. I don’t know how she did it. He’s just come back from college and all the girls in town have set their caps for him. Now I am going to look to you to see that Lucy doesn’t do anything foolish.”

Nannie nodded obediently.

“I’ll do all I can,” she agreed, “but Lucy is hard to manage. She----”.

“Nonsense!” interrupted Mrs. Lockhart. “If you will only use sense and firmness she will do anything you want her to. You made a mess of your own marriage. If you marry your daughter to the heir of Judge Dodd it isn’t too late to get back where you ought to be.”

“I will,” put in Nannie enthusiastically.

“Well, let’s go down again,” ordered her mother, after a few minutes further consultation. “We shouldn’t make things too marked the first visit.”

“We must go, Kingsley.” Mrs. Lockhart spoke imperatively as she reëntered the room where the two young people were seated.

The docile youth rose.

“You must come again.” Nannie smiled invitingly.

“Thank you,” he replied, glancing first at her and then at Lucy. “I’ve had a mighty nice time. What evening can I come?” He glanced at Lucy again.

“You haven’t anything for Thursday evening, have you, Lucy?” inquired Nannie, assisting him.

“No,” returned Lucy, who indeed had no engagements for any evening.

“Thanks,” Dodd said quickly, “then I’ll come Thursday.”

“Come early and have tea with us,” urged Nannie in response to a nod from her mother.

“Thanks,” he repeated, “I will. Good-bye,” shaking hands with Lucy. Then, “Good-bye, Mrs. Merwent. Thank you so much.”

“Oh, the pleasure will be ours,” Nannie declared.

Mrs. Lockhart kissed Nannie and Lucy, pinching the latter’s cheek.

“We’ll have to give a little party for my grandbaby. She’s the picture of her grandpapa,” the old lady declared, smiling.

“Did you hear what she said, Lucy?” Nannie asked delightedly as soon as their callers were gone.

“Yes,” answered Lucy.

“Isn’t it just grand?” continued Nannie with enthusiasm.

“What? The party?”

“Why, no--yes--the party and everything.”

“I don’t think so, Mamma. As for the party, I won’t have it. So far as the rest goes, you already have been invited to Cousin Minnie’s and I don’t want to be invited, so I don’t see what you have gained.”

“I!” exclaimed Nannie indignantly. “Why, Lucy, I wasn’t thinking of myself at all. It’s you I’m glad for.”

“But I don’t see what I have to do with it, Mamma. Cousin Minnie and Grandmamma have never paid any attention to me before and I wouldn’t thank them for their attention now.”

“But, Lucy----”

“What, Mamma?”

“Lucy, it isn’t only Mamma and Cousin Minnie. It means that--it means----” Lucy’s steady eyes were upon Nannie, “It means that others--that we will be----”

“If you mean that you want me to go around with Kingsley Dodd so as to be taken up by the people who dropped us when Papa failed to make money, I won’t do it, that’s all.”

“Why, Lucy!”

“Our own relatives have treated Papa like dirt and the others have followed them, so I, for one, don’t want anything to do with them.”

Nannie assumed a maternal and authoritative tone.

“Lucy, you don’t realize what you are saying. I won’t allow you to ruin your chances in any such manner. You told Kingsley Dodd that he could come Thursday night and----”

“You mean you invited him, Mamma.”

“Well, you agreed and it’s the same thing.”

“I’ll see him when he comes Thursday,” Lucy conceded, “but I won’t again, and I won’t go to the party, so you had better tell Grandmamma not to count on it.”

“What in the world have you got against Kingsley?” Nannie demanded, now on the defensive.

“I don’t like him, and if I did I wouldn’t have anything to do with him under the circumstances.”

Nannie lost her temper.

“You shan’t act this way!” she almost screamed.

Lucy’s gaze did not waver. “Yes, I shall,” she said steadily.

Nannie burst into tears. Lucy hesitated a moment before she continued.

“I’m sorry, Mamma, but I can’t help feeling this way,” she said at last.

Nannie made no reply and went on sobbing. Looking rather miserable, Lucy left her and went to the kitchen to prepare supper.

* * * * *

The day after Kingsley Dodd’s presentation Nannie paid a visit to her mother.

“Lucy, your grandmother wants you to go over and see her in the morning,” Nannie announced on her return.

“All right, Mamma,” Lucy acceded without hesitation.

The following morning Lucy made her appearance at the Sheldon home with her customary punctuality.

“Well, well, it’s a long time since my grandbaby came to see me,” began Mrs. Lockhart kindly as Lucy entered the library where she sat tatting.

“It’s been a long time since I was asked,” Lucy answered simply.

“Yes, of course,” agreed her grandmother hastily. “I haven’t a home of my own, as you know, Lucy, and can’t always do as I would like to.”

Lucy did not reply to this but continued to regard her grandmother expectantly.

“You remember what I said yesterday?” resumed Mrs. Lockhart briskly. “Well, we’ve begun to make the arrangements for a little dance in your honor. It’s high time you were introduced to society.”

“I don’t know whom you want to introduce me to, Grandmamma. Everybody in town knows me already.”

“Oh, you know what I mean, Lucy. You ought to take your place as a young lady, and this is the nicest way to do it.”

“Thank you, Grandmamma, but I’d rather not have the dance.”

“Stuff and nonsense! I never saw a young girl yet who didn’t love parties and attentions. We’ll consider it all settled then.”

“No, we won’t, Grandmamma. I am not going to have a party of any kind.”

“Lucy, you’re crazy, my child. Why people will think you’re queer. I’ve already told several people of our plans.” “I don’t dance, Grandmamma.”

“What? Well, Nannie must have paid lots of attention to your education! I’ll have a little talk with her. The idea of a young lady who can’t dance! Well, we’ll have a little bridge party then.”

“I don’t play bridge, either.”

“Don’t play bridge!” Mrs. Lockhart eyed her granddaughter quizzically. “Then we’ll have just an old fashioned party,” she said at length.

“Thank you, Grandmamma, but I don’t want the party,” reiterated Lucy.

“I really believe you don’t,” admitted Mrs. Lockhart with a grim smile, “but we’ll have it anyway. What night next week shall we decide on?”

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful, Grandmamma, but I’m not coming to any party.”

Mrs. Lockhart stared at Lucy only to encounter a gaze as firm as her own.

“Very well, Lucy,” she said at last in an icy tone. “I had intended to do a great many things for you, but if you want to throw away your chances like this I can do nothing. You evidently don’t want either friends or relations. You must excuse me now as I’m going out.” And Mrs. Lockhart rose and left the room.

Lucy made her way through the hall alone and went into the street.

* * * * *

Thursday evening came and Kingsley Dodd appeared very promptly. The day had been rainy and the remaining clouds were tinged crimson by the setting sun. The windows of the Merwents’ house were open and as the visitor went up the walk he saw Lucy lighting the gas jets in the parlor. She was the only one ready to receive him, for Nannie had not yet completed her careful toilette and Arthur was away from home, being engaged on a legal case out of town.

Nannie soon descended the stairs, however, and the three sat down to supper. During the meal she and young Dodd became such friends that it was with an obvious effort that she excused herself, when they had risen from the table, and returned to her bedroom, leaving the young people together.

“We’re going to have an all-day picnic out at Dad’s country place next Saturday,” Dodd observed, after some ordinary conversation, “and I want you to come. Your grandmother and Colonel and Mrs. Mainter and Dad and Aunt Sally are going to be the chaperones, and we’ll have a great time. I’ll come around with a single buggy and my bays and drive you out. The rest are going in surreys and on horseback. We better start early so as to----”

“Thank you, Mr. Dodd,” Lucy stopped him, “but I shan’t be able to go.”

“Why, have you got something on for Saturday?” he asked. “Well, I’ll have the thing put off till next week.”

“No, it’s not another engagement but I can’t go because----”

“Because you don’t like picnics,” he laughed. “All right. We’ll get up something at the house here in town. What shall it be?”

Lucy opened her lips to speak, but hesitated. At the same instant a gust of wind blew through the room and one of the window curtains fluttered out and threatened to overturn some ornaments on a nearby table. She hastened to secure the drapery.

“Let me fix it!” he offered, starting toward her. Lucy turned to face him as he reached her side.

“It’s fixed, thank you,” she began, then hesitated, flushing painfully. “Mr. Dodd,” she met his eyes steadily, “I know you mean to be nice in giving me the picnic, and coming here to see me, and all that. We are glad to have you and I hope we shall always be friends, but Grandmamma is trying to throw us at each other’s heads, and I won’t have it!”

Kingsley stared at her a moment. His glance fell.

“I couldn’t help it,” she resumed, finally. “I had to say it. I hope we will be friends, but if you are angry I can’t help that either.”

“I guess I’d better go.” Kingsley’s face was a dull brick red. Lucy stood in the same place while he took his hat from the hall tree, and she did not move until the front door had closed behind him.

“Lucy! Lucy!” Nannie called almost instantly, as she leaned over the stair rail in the upper hall, “Are you and Mr. Dodd going out?”

“He’s gone,” Lucy announced, coming out of the parlor and looking up into her mother’s anxious face.

“Why, what in the world’s the matter?” Nannie asked agitatedly, descending the stairs as she spoke.

“Nothing’s the matter, Mamma, except that I don’t intend to let you and Grandmamma dispose of me as though I were an animal.”

“Did you say such an awful thing to Kingsley?” gasped Nannie, wringing her hands.

“Not exactly,” replied Lucy, almost smiling in spite of herself. “I told him we were being thrown at each other and I wouldn’t permit it.”

“Why, how could you say such a thing as that!” she protested. “Was he mad?” Then, before Lucy could answer, “Why couldn’t you have waited till you saw whether you liked him or not?”

“I don’t need to wait, Mamma.”

“But, Lucy, there are other things to be considered.”

“No, there aren’t, Mamma.”

Nannie’s tone changed.

“Well, I think you might consider me a little at any rate!”

Lucy eyed her mother squarely.

“I don’t, Mamma--not in this matter. I’m willing to work for you.”

“You are certainly an ungrateful child, Lucy!” Lucy winced. “Nobody knows what I sacrificed when I married your father. He has done nothing and nobody pays any attention to him. His father died with everything in a muddle and he’s never made anything for himself. All the society or notice I get is through my own people, and now when they are disposed to take you up, and give us a chance to be somebody, you won’t even look at one of their friends! I should think you would be glad of the chance to help your family. You would if you had any feelings at all!”

Lucy was white. Without answering she walked past her mother and went upstairs to her room.

VII

Late on the night of Kingsley Dodd’s visit Arthur returned from his trip, and the next morning he had only time for a hasty greeting to his family before leaving to keep an early appointment with the out-of-town client who engaged his services at the moment. An hour after his departure Lucy appeared in the hall with her hat on and her gloves and sun-shade in her hand.

“Where are you going, Lucy?” Nannie demanded.

“I’m going to Papa’s office,” replied Lucy as she passed out the door.

When Lucy reached her father’s place of business she found Mr. Merwent alone. As his daughter entered he was reading a letter. He put it into a drawer in his desk and turned the lock.

“Well, Lucy?” He leaned back in his chair and smiled his slow smile as he spoke.

She gazed around on the dingy furniture, the old books, the discolored steel engravings, the dusty floor, and other signals of her father’s run-down law practice. Her heart almost failed her, but the memory of the preceding day rushed back upon her.

“Papa,” she began, “I want to earn my own living.”

Her father scrutinized her face kindly.

“I don’t blame you, speaking in general,” he observed, “but why have you so suddenly decided it?”

“Mamma and Grandmamma are trying to marry me to Kingsley Dodd in spite of myself, and Mamma thinks I am ungrateful because I object. I don’t think I ought to be dependent on any one any longer.”

“You seem to have all the self respect in the family, Lucy,” Mr. Merwent commented, “but what can you do?”

“I can learn book binding,” she responded without hesitation. “The pay for fine tooled hand binding is good. Mamie Willis, who used to be in my class at high school, has been to Chicago Art School to learn it. I think I should like to go there. I want to go right away.”

“Let me think, Daughter,” he said meditatively. “I have a friend I should like to consult about it. It is very possible that it may be the best thing. We’ll talk it over again tomorrow. Come down here about this time and we’ll decide.”

Lucy kissed her father, amazed at his complaisance.

“I wonder who the friend he spoke of is,” she said to herself as she went back to the house. “Papa’ll probably have to borrow money of him to send me away.”

* * * * *

The following day Mrs. Merwent preserved an air of gentle sadness and grief, replying softly to her daughter’s remarks but avoiding any reference to what had happened. When Lucy went out a little before the hour appointed for the conference at the office, Nannie did not ask her errand, but returned the girl’s kiss and volunteered a statement that she would not be gone long, with a look of patient melancholy.

“Well, it is all arranged,” were Arthur’s first words, as he greeted Lucy. “You are to go to Chicago where I have planned for you to stay with the relative of a friend. We agree--that is, I agree that you couldn’t do better than go to the Art School, as it is a recognized institution and the courses are reliable.”

“Oh, Papa, thank you so much!”

“The thanks are due to someone else, Lucy, and I hope some day you can thank the friend who has made it possible.”

“Who is it, Papa? Is it someone I know?”

Mr. Merwent looked at her a moment before replying.

“It’s a woman friend, Lucy, Mrs. Ellen Low.”

He continued to regard his daughter. Lucy’s face turned pink.

“I didn’t know you knew her, Papa,” she said.

Mr. Merwent, though he did not take his eyes from the young girl’s, seemed, in his turn, somewhat embarrassed.

“Yes, I’ve known her quite a while. When her husband died I was retained with Mr. Blair to settle up the estate,” he answered.

“Oh!” Lucy relapsed into thoughtful silence.

She knew Mrs. Low by sight and in spite of herself rather liked the pleasant homely face with its strongly marked features, though she had, almost against her will, absorbed some of the prejudiced tone in which she had heard her mother and grandmother make occasional references to the woman.

Mrs. Low was the widow of a handsome man, who had been very fond of the ladies, and she had not lived happily with him. She appeared, in a whimsical way, to hold men in little awe. The unpopularity of her outspoken manner, which voiced a point of view that Russellville found unbecoming in a lady, had sent her to seek a more congenial atmosphere with relatives in Chicago. However, she continued to spend several months of each year in her native town.

“I expect you have accepted the family’s hostility to Mrs. Low, Lucy,” Arthur went on after a minute.

“I’ve hardly ever heard Mamma speak of her,” Lucy returned, her glance drooping before the bitter, slightly amused expression that crept into her father’s face.

“Mrs. Low is too big a woman for her environment. She’s got too much self respect to be understood by the people in this place. It’s because she’s too big-hearted to be prudent, she’s let herself be unpleasantly criticised!” Mr. Merwent’s manner was warm.

Lucy, surprised at her father’s outburst, stared at him in silence, her lips slightly parted. He rose from his chair and walked over to the open window. He stood there for a moment with his back turned, and when he finally reseated himself he appeared as self-contained and emotionless as usual.

“Are--are the people you want me to stay with Mrs. Low’s friends?” Lucy paused, once more embarrassed by her father’s calm scrutiny.

“Her cousin, Miss Storms,” he explained. “She is very well known in Chicago and could do a lot for you, we think.” This time he used the plural pronoun without hesitation. “You haven’t told your mother anything about this yet?”

“No, Papa, I’m afraid Mamma won’t like it.”

“So am I, Daughter. We’ll have to talk it over with her tonight.”

Lucy looked troubled.

“I’m afraid she won’t consent.”

“Yes, she will. You go on back now, and we’ll see after supper.”

Lucy was very thoughtful as she walked home. She had been much astonished to learn that Mrs. Low and her father were acquainted.

“Lucy is going to Chicago to school,” Mr. Merwent announced that night without preamble, toward the end of the evening meal.

Nannie looked up from her plate with a startled expression.

“What in the world are you talking about, Arthur?”

“About Lucy going away to school, as my words implied,” returned Mr. Merwent.

“But who said Lucy was going away?” insisted Nannie.

“I did,” responded her husband shortly.

“Lucy, what is all this about?” asked Nannie, appealing to her daughter.

“It’s about Lucy going away to school. Do you think you can manage to understand or shall I repeat it a few more times?” interrupted Arthur almost menacingly.

Nannie studied the face of her long silent husband and read in it something that experience taught her to be the signal of an occasion when tears, arguments, and tantrums would avail nothing. She rose suddenly and left the table and not long after they heard the front door close as she went out.

“A council of war,” remarked Arthur with a wry smile.

Lucy shut herself in her room and cried.

About nine o’clock Nannie returned from the “big house” as the Sheldon home was called, where she had received neither comfort nor suggestion.

“Don’t ask me to take over the management of your husband too, Nannie!” Mrs. Lockhart had exclaimed with asperity. “Any effort to help you is wasted because you make no attempt to coöperate.” And Nannie had left in tears.