Chapter IX: The Surprise

DOWN stairs there were brisk steps and suppressed, though earnest, voices. Marion whose whole heart was bent on being of service to the young wife, had two objects in view in every step she took. First the room must be cleaned, the carpets cleansed from the spots of grease which every where met her eye; and what was quite as important, Bridget must be taught the best method of doing the work. She was delighted to see that the girl caught her ideas at once; and tried to imitate whenever it was in her power.

In the meantime Marion listened to a revelation of Paul's unkindness which shocked her.

"Such cruelty shall be stopped," was her energetic reflection; "but how?"

By half past eleven the lower part of the house was in fine order, though it must be confessed there was a strong odor of benzine with which the carpets had been cleansed. Marion ran softly up to the chamber and found Gertrude still sleeping; and concluding the rest was doing her more good than any thing else, went back to consult with the servant about dinner.

Mr. Dudley, she learned to her astonishment, usually took that meal away from home; but sometimes came in upon his wife all of a sudden; and then talked "awful" because there was nothing fit to eat.

"I believe," the young lady said, "that gentlemen are always cross when they are not well fed; and we must see that he has no excuse of that kind to-day; for I want to get his leave for you to stay and comfort your poor mistress."

An exploring expedition into the larder proved there was abundance in the house for a nice little family dinner. Enough dainties remained from the feast to furnish dessert for weeks.

There was half a boiled ham from which sandwiches had been made by the caterer; a slice of steak uncooked, potatoes, rice and plenty of nice little rolls. These last she had told Bridget to wrap in a towel to keep them moist; then when needed for breakfast to wet and crisp them in the oven.

Having begged an apron from the girl, she began to pare a ring around the potatoes, throwing them into the pot with a little salt; calling Bridget to observe every motion, with a view to another time.

When the potatoes and rice were boiling, she pounded the meat, to Bridget's great surprise, and laid it upon the gridiron to be ready for broiling; and then, seeing that the coal burned briskly, hurried off to set the table. But finding the servant had already been taught this operation by her young mistress, she resorted to the chamber; and faithful to her promise, softly kissed the sleeper's pale cheek.

"I feel so much better. My sister has cured me," Gertrude said, pulling Marion's face down for a second embrace.

This proved to be a day of pleasant surprises. Marion had assisted her new sister down stairs, where, with a pillow and shawl she was realizing how pleasant it was to be cared for once more, when another ring brought a hectic flush to her cheek.

It is sad indeed for the wife, be she young or old, when she trembles with fear at the thought of meeting reproachful looks and hard words from her husband.

"That's Paul," she said half aloud, rising and leaning on her elbow.

But she was mistaken this time; it was not Paul.

"Is Mrs. Dudley at home?" inquired a cheerful, manly voice of the waiting Bridget.

"Yes, sir, she's at home; but I can't tell without asking whether she'll be able to see yerself."

"Tell her, Mr. Wallingford, her brother, is here."

"Och, sir! and that's the news I'll be proud to tell. Walk in, sir. Yer welcome as the morning sun."

"Gerty, dear, I smell medicine. Are you ill?" he asked, opening the door and descrying her in the back parlor.

He had no time to say more, the youthful figure bounded from the sofa and almost fell into his outstretched arms.

"Oh, Edward!" was all she could say; but she nestled her head against his breast, and gazed into his face with such a loving, satisfied glance he needed no other assurance of welcome.

"What is the matter, Gerty? Your heart is fluttering like a frightened bird," he said tenderly, seating her on the sofa and gazing sadly into her pale, wan face. "It is well Hannah is not here or she—"

He stopped abruptly as she exclaimed, with a tear of joy:

"It seems like a dream. I never expected to be so happy again."

"Tell me all your trouble, little sister. I came a great many miles to satisfy myself whether Paul was keeping his promise."

She went on in her childlike way to relate about the party; her sickness; the trouble she had experienced with servants, and the great kindness she had that morning received from Marion Gilbert, the daughter of their clergyman.

"You have a servant now who seems attached to you," Mr. Wallingford answered gravely, recalling her characteristic welcome at the door.

"Yes, she's as kind as can be. I do hope Paul will let me keep her. Marion says she's very teachable."

"Why do you think he will not?"

"She broke a glass dish. She is not generally careless; and he dismissed her." This was the only mention she had made of her husband.

With a calm, steady gaze in her eyes her brother said:

"Tell me, Gerty. Is Paul kind to you, and considerate of your wants?"

Her eyes fell beneath his; and there was such a pained expression on her once happy face he needed no other answer.

A little tingle of the table bell announced that dinner was ready; and almost immediately after Marion appeared smiling and blushing at the singular position in which she found herself placed.

"This is my brother, Marion," Gertrude said with a bright smile, "I've been telling him all about my new sister."

"Will you try to come to the table, darling?" whispered the visitor; "or shall I bring you a piece of steak here?"

"Oh, I will go! Edward will give me his arm."

Marion rolled an easy chair to the table; called Bridget to bring a cricket, and without a word seated herself at the head of the table opposite a steaming dish of potatoes, mashed and browned in the form of a pineapple. She waited one moment hoping Mr. Wallingford would offer to say grace; but as he did not, she bowed her head one instant and then with a smile, commenced her self-imposed duty of waiting on the others.

Bridget, who had been privately instructed, stood behind her chair waiting to carry the plates.

On the handsome side board was a dish of jelly and a silver basket filled with different kinds of cake, with Gertrude's pretty service of silver, exciting suspicion that coffee would be forthcoming in due time. The young wife colored with delight as she saw what a nice repast was in readiness for her brother, and could not forbear saying:

"Edward, you must thank my new sister for your dinner. I am a very poor housekeeper."

"Bridget has proved an efficient help," quietly observed Miss Gilbert. "You will be able to judge presently of her skill in making coffee."

"But where is your husband?" inquired Edward.

"He generally takes dinner at a restaurant," answered Gerty, trying to steady her voice.

Edward looked so indignant that the poor child felt called upon to explain.

"You know, brother, Hannah's cooking was always done with so little fuss, that I thought it no trouble at all to keep house. Paul would have very sorry fare, if he took his meals at home."

Before she had finished speaking, there was a loud, decided ring.

"That's Paul," she exclaimed anxiously.

"I know his ring."

"Don't tell him he has visitors," cautioned Marion, as Bridget passed her to open the door.

"How came you, here?" Paul asked angrily. "You needn't expect a cent from me. I told you to go at once."

They heard him walking into the hall, where he probably perceived the smell of steak and coffee.

"So you and your mistress can get up a meal when I'm away," he began in a sneering tone. "You didn't expect I'd come home, I suppose. Well, I'm glad I've found what is done in my absence; and you may leave as quick as you please."

By this time he had laid aside his hat and gloves, thrown his newspaper on the hall table; and walked toward the dining room, asking: "Is your mistress here?" throwing open the door.

His tone changed as if by magic; and yet it was easy to perceive the surprise of seeing his brother-in-law was not at the moment an agreeable one.

"Why, Wallingford, how are you? Welcome to Chicago. Miss Gilbert you look as blooming as a June rose. Gertrude, love, are you ill? You are very pale. Ah, I feared the effect of your last night's dissipation. Fact, I have myself a blinding headache to-day. Makes me as blue as I used to get sometimes in our old college days, Wallingford."

"How is business?" inquired Edward, breaking an awkward pause.

"Very good! No, I thank you, Miss Gilbert, I have eaten dinner. I came home to see how Gerty was getting on with her clearing away, after our first party. She ate so many dainties last night, feared she would be sick to-day."

"Why, Paul, you forget I didn't taste any thing."

Both Marion and Mr. Wallingford caught an ugly scowl which for one moment distorted the features of the lawyer, which instantaneously changed to a smile, as he said carelessly:

"Ah, was that so? My duties as a host kept me very busy. You are so fond of cake and candies, that I supposed you indulged freely."