Chapter XXVII

Sometimes a storm will settle the atmosphere, for a time, and it seemed as though Patterson Greeves’ summary dismissal of the house party had really subdued Athalie and made life bearable, and even almost pleasant at times in Silver house.

There had been a stormy scene the next morning between Athalie and her father, but his brief experience in dealing with the young hoodlums the night before had seemed to give him confidence. He laid down the law in no uncertain manner to the young woman, who went through various stages of rebellion, to argument, then pleading and finally surrender.

“But I told you about that house party when I first arrived and you never said a word. You had no right to come in and raise a row afterwards,” had been her opening sentence of the interview, spoken with stormy eyes.

She left the library with downcast countenance and a promise to apologize to Silver for her insolence of the night before, a condition of her further remaining in the house.

“Although I hate her just as much as ever and always shall!” she added as she was about to close the door behind her.

Her father thought it as well to let this sentiment go unanswered, and Athalie went up to Silver’s door, walked in without knocking and announced:

“My father sent me to apologize.” Having said it she slammed the door after her and departed, leaving Silver no opportunity to reply.

Thus matters had settled into a semblance of amity between them. The conversation at the table consisted in animated talk between Silver and her father, and absolute silence on the part of Athalie whenever her sister was present. The two girls walked their separate ways as much as if they were in separate spheres. Silver made one or two unsuccessful attempts to bridge over this chasm between them and finally settled down to forget it and be happy.

Silver was living a rich and beautiful life, entering into the church work of the new community with zest and rare tact, already beloved by everyone, and spoken of often as being like her great aunt Lavinia.

The minister was a frequent visitor at the house, going often on hikes and fishing trips with Greeves, and spending long hours in discussions on political, scientific, and on rare occasions, religious subjects; and often Silver was a third member of the party on these occasions. But the minister was a busy man and did not make his visits to Silver house too noticeable. It was fortunate for him that Aunt Katie’s back fence joined the Silver garden, and that the high hedge made passing possible without calling the attention of the neighbors, for Silver Sands was very jealous of their minister, and would never let him pay more attention to one family or individual without an equal amount somewhere else. Much of his friendship with Silver and her father was carried on in the evening, or morning when they had taken a tramp to the woods and come on the minister, also sometimes when there was no school, with the addition of Blink and his dog.

Athalie had begun to take a real if rather puzzled interest in high school. At first she had attempted to become a leader, had even offered to furnish cigarettes and teach the girls to smoke, telling them they were far behind the times, but this resulted in an instant aloofness on the part of the girls of the better class. Emily Bragg being the only one who really accepted the offer and attached herself to Athalie like a leech.

This was no part of Athalie’s plan. She retired from the field as leader and studied the situation for a few days. She began slowly to perceive that she would never be accepted nor welcomed as long as she lifted her own standards. She must accept the standards of Silver Sands or count herself as an outsider forever.

Experimentally she made an attack on the boys, and found to her amazement that they too had standards. They might not be exactly the same as their sisters’, and there were some few among them who were ready surreptitiously to meet her half way and laugh with her, yet on the whole, she was losing rather than gaining in influence, because for some unaccountable reason even the boys seemed to feel that she was unclassing herself. She sat down to ponder and decided that it was the old-fashioned town and that it was hopeless. Whereupon she brushed her hair a long time one day and began to curl the ends under and teach it to be “put up.” She ceased even the surreptitious application of cosmetics applied on the way to school since her father’s distinct command had put an end to a careful make up before her own mirror. Her eyebrows began to grow in their legitimate place, with a strange likeness to Patterson Greeves’ and altogether she took on a more wholesome look in every way.

Saturday mornings, at Silver’s suggestion, Patterson Greeves made it a point to be at home and to take Athalie to the country club for a round of golf. Even when she grew more intimate with her school mates and found some of her amusement in their Saturday picnics and little round of simple parties she never failed to accept his invitations for golf with alacrity. At such times there were flashes of something like real affection in her eyes, although he was usually too preoccupied to notice her. Indeed he would often have forgotten the engagement if Silver had not reminded him.

Greeves had sought to induce Athalie to eat more wholesome food. He had hunted out a diet menu and urged it upon her, and in some degree she had acquiesced, though he found her often with surreptitious boxes of candy, or taking more cake at tea than the law allowed. It was not until Barry again wielded his influence that she really got at it and began to show a loss in weight.

It was one Saturday morning that she had at last decided to try her father on the subject of knickers. She came down nonchalantly arrayed in them, and announced herself ready for the country club. Her father looked up from a page he was correcting with an annoyed frown upon his brow. He had forgotten that it was Saturday and was exceedingly anxious to finish the theme he was at work upon. He took her in, knickers and all, and laid down his papers with a stern look on his face.

“You’ll have to go by yourself if you’re going to wear those things!” he said sharply. “It’s strange you don’t know what a figure you cut in them. You’re too stout for any such rig!”

Athalie cut to the heart as she always was when her figure was criticized, turned with a shrug and a flip and an “oh, very well!” and flung out of the room.

Her father settled back to his writing again, thinking that probably she had gone to change, but as she did not return he became absorbed once more and forgot all about it.

Athalie meantime, had stamped out of the front door, down the street, and was making her way swiftly to the old log in the woods, the only refuge she knew outside the house where she would probably meet no one and would be free to cry her heart out and wonder what had become of Lilla. She had not had word from Lilla since they parted.

She was sitting on the log weeping with long quivering sobs when suddenly she felt a hand upon her shoulder and looking up she saw that Barry was sitting beside her.

“What’s the matter kid, has anything happened? Anyone been treating you mean?”

She lifted eyes that were brimming with tears, and there was something childish and almost sweet about her helpless young despair.

“You poor kid,” he said again, “what’s the matter?”

He fished a moment in all his pockets, then brought out from the breast pocket of his brown flannel shirt a neatly folded clean handkerchief.

“I thought I had a blotter,” he remarked, and moving up gently proceeded to wipe the tears from her eyes.

In a moment he had her smiling through her tears with his bright remarks.

“Oh, there’s nothing much the matter,” said the girl relapsing into her despondency. “I guess I’m only mad. Dad called me fat, and I hate it! He said he wouldn’t go with me in my knickers. He said I looked awful!”

Barry surveyed the garments in question.

“Does make you look sort of wide,” he admitted. “Must be a lot easier to walk in than skirts though. I like ’em. Why don’t you get thinner, kid? It’s easy. I can tell you what to eat. We tried it one year when we wanted to run. Listen. I’ll write it down for you.”

“I hate spinach!” remarked Athalie coldly.

“Oh, well, that doesn’t cut any ice kid! When you get skinny you’ll be glad. Try a month and get weighed and see what a difference it makes.”

They talked for sometime and Athalie finally agreed to try it. Then they drifted into more personal talk and Barry said he wished she’d come and see his mother sometime.

Athalie told him about her mother being off in Europe somewhere. She spoke drearily and the boy read much between the lines that she did not dream she was telling. He was quick to read the heart-hunger and yearning in her voice. There was much that was comforting in his cheery tone and the way he talked of common things. Athalie soon sat up and began to smile. Somehow the world looked brighter and life more possible even without chocolates. Barry said again he wished she would come and see his mother, and this time she said she would, and almost thought perhaps she meant it. It would be interesting to see what kind of a mother Barry had.

Then suddenly the boy stood up quite sharply as if he had but just thought about it.

“But I oughtn’t to let you stay here,” he said. “Your father might not like it. Why don’t you go home and put on the togs he likes. It won’t take you long. Wait till you get skinny and then wear these again.”

“They won’t fit me,” giggled Athalie. She was growing quite light hearted.

“Come on over this way. I’ll show you a short cut home, and you won’t need to pass the fire house. There’s always a lot of crows there waiting to pick the flesh off your bones.”

“Maybe that would be quicker than dieting,” laughed Athalie brightly.

“You bet it would!” said Barry, “we won’t try that way this time. They’d make remarks if an angel flew by. Now come on down by the creek. It’s pretty there. Have you ever seen the rapids? Not very rapid, but it takes some strength to get a canoe up ’em. Some day we’ll get your sister and take a canoe jaunt.”

But at that Athalie’s brow darkened and her chin went up. “I don’t think she’d care to go,” she said, stiffly. “She’s all taken up with doing things down in that Frogtown place.”

“Oh, wouldn’t she?” Barry’s voice was disappointed. Athalie looked at him jealously. The sun seemed to have grown gray. Her loneliness had settled down anew.

Barry was tactful for one so young. He saw that for some reason she did not want the sister. He turned the subject immediately to the day and the beauties about them.

“There’s a squirrel up in that tree that throws nuts down on me when I’m fishing sometimes,” he said. “Do you like to fish? Why don’t you come along with your father? He and the minister often come up here. Your sister was along last time.”

Ah! It was the sister! Athalie stiffened perceptibly.

“There he goes now, look!”

Athalie looked up while the boy talked, pointing out the squirrel harbor, telling how the squirrels stored their nuts, how they often ran up the tree with a mouthful of leaves to stuff in their harbor for a bed.

“See that branch of scarlet leaves up there!” exclaimed the boy suddenly. “It’s early for them to turn red, but aren’t they peachy? Shall I get them for you?”

He was off up the tree in no time, nimble as a squirrel himself up, up, and up, till the girl watching felt dizzy for him, then out on a hazardous limb, and whipping his knife from his pocket. Presently down came the splendid branch, fluttering like thousands of scarlet blossoms, and fell at her feet.

She stooped and picked it up wonderingly. It was almost the first time in her life she had gathered trophies from the woods, the first time any boy had presented her with anything so glorious and so wild.

Barry was down again in a trice as if it had been nothing to climb like that, and was walking beside her telling her about the scarlet maples in the fall. Then all at once he turned and pointed.

“Now, you go across that meadow. When you get to the corner of the board fence turn to the right next the pasture and go straight ahead. You’ll find your house just ahead of you, and nobody will get a chance to see who you are before you are at home. I won’t go with you. It will be better not. Those Vandemeeters have eyes all over the house. Here! Do you want this junk?”

Athalie with her arms full of the gorgeous leaves made her way slowly across the sod of the pasture, and around the corner of the fence thinking over all that had happened, wondering why the boy didn’t come all the way with her, why he minded those old Vandemeeters, getting a thought of his reasons into her soul, comparing them with all her father had said, resolving to try again, and saying over as she entered her own gate. “Spinach! Spinach! How I hate it!”

The spring deepened into summer and school had closed. Athalie felt lost. Her father was immersed in his book and had little time for golf. Mary Truman and her mother and brother had gone away to the mountains for a month, several of the other girls were visiting relatives in the country or at the seashore, or taking little trips. She had to stay around the house and garden. Always there was Silver everywhere in the way. She did not get any nearer to Silver.

Barry came one day and took Silver away in the minister’s car to see a sick child two miles out of town. The minister had sent for her to come and bring some broth. They all came home together with a sheaf of golden rod and got out with much laughter and chatter. Athalie from the upper window watched them. There was a look in Bannard’s eyes as he helped Silver from the car that made her suddenly feel all alone in the world. Barry too! He came in after them carrying flowers. Silver had a heap of velvet moss in her hands dotted with scarlet berries. She was carrying it carefully. The minister put out his hand to catch a falling spray of the vine whereon the berries grew. Barry was close, with deep admiration in his face. He answered something Silver said and flashed his beautiful smile. Silver on the step above him broke a tiny spray of golden rod from the armful he had just handed her and stooping fastened it in his buttonhole. She could not hear the byplay of words that went with the act, she could only see the flush of pleasure on Barry’s face, the tender smile on Bannard’s, Silver’s look of utter joy and content. A pang of jealousy like to none she had ever felt before shot through her undisciplined heart. Her face was almost distorted with hate, and the red hot tears went coursing down her face so that she could not see Barry and the minister as they went back to the car. They had not asked for her. They had not either of them suggested that she go along. If Barry had done so when he came for Silver she would have gone. This once she would have gone, if just to keep Silver from riding in the front seat with Barry. But Barry had not asked it. Barry had not cared about anything except just to make her safe for her father’s sake, and to make her get thin, so her father would be pleased. Nobody cared for her!

Her young lonely soul raged fiercely within, going over and over the doleful situation, until she scarcely knew what she was doing, and suddenly a gentle hand touched her on the shoulder.

“Athalie, dear! You are crying! Is there anything I can do to help you?”

It was Silver in her white dress with her arms full of golden rod, come softly up the stairs on her rubber shod feet, and finding Athalie still at the hall window.

Athalie turned in a fury of anger to be caught this way, and shook off the gentle hand.

“Don’t you dare to touch me!” she hissed. “I _hate_ you!”

“Athalie!”

“Yes, _Athalie_!” mocked the angry girl. “You mealy-mouthed hypocrite! You liar! You thief! That’s it! You are a _thief_!”

“Athalie, what has got into you?” asked Silver in dismay. “What on earth can you mean? What have I done to annoy you?”

Athalie had not been in such a fury since the night she spoiled the painting. She was simply blind with rage.

“Done! done!” she screamed, “it isn’t enough that you stole my father away. Stole him! Stole him! You had no right to him! He gave you away, and you had your home, and you had people that loved you! You had a grandfather and grandmother. I never had any grandfather or grandmother or anybody. My mother never loved me!” Her tone was growing higher and more excited. The pent up anguish of the weeks was breaking forth in a flood. Silver lifted up a hand and tried to make her listen, but she rushed on in a torrent of words.

“She went away and left me to come here alone. She hasn’t written to me. She doesn’t love me. And I came here to find a father. I would have made him love me. Yes, I could, if you hadn’t poked your nose in and got ahead of me. You had no right. He had given you up. You thought just because you had that old Silver name—”

“Athalie!” said Silver compassionately, but Athalie was beyond hearing.

“Don’t speak to me. _I hate you!_” she raved on. “It wasn’t enough that you stole my father, and the house, and are trying to get the money and Mr. Bannard, but you have to steal my only friend!”

Her head went down on the window frame and she sobbed aloud.

“What do you mean, Athalie? I haven’t stolen any friend away from you!” said Silver in a puzzled indignant voice.

“Yes, you have. You’ve stolen Barry. He was nice to me. He brought me back when I was going to run away and get married!”

“Athalie!”

“Oh, you needn’t Athalie me! I guess I could have done it if I wanted to, and now I wish I had. I would have got out of this old hole anyway. Isn’t Mr. Bannard enough for you? Why can’t you let Barry alone? You pretend to be so loving and all, calling me _dear_, and all that mush, and yet you spoil every nice time I try to have. It was you spoiled my house party! You can’t deny that! And you’re at the bottom of my having to wear frumpy old-fashioned clothes. If you hadn’t come here dressed like a mouse my father wouldn’t have known the difference. He just wants me to dress like you, and I won’t! So there! But I won’t stand your making eyes at everybody that likes me either. Look how you did when I had the house party! Carried all the boys off downstairs and flirted with them. Got everyone of them crazy about you. Oh, but the girls were furious about that.”

Under the torrent of words which she could not stay Silver suddenly collapsed into a chair and dropped her face into her hands.

“Oh, yes! That makes you ashamed doesn’t it? You don’t like it put like that. Well, why can’t you marry somebody and get away? I’ve been waiting and waiting for you and Mr. Bannard to get things fixed up so you would get out of the house and let me have a real home for once in my life.”

Silver lifted a white face and listened sternly.

“Athalie! Stop! You mustn’t say such things. They are disgraceful. The neighbors will hear!”

“I don’t care if they do! I hope they will!”

“Athalie, if you will stop I will go away!”

“Well, go, go! Why don’t you go then? You don’t mean it at all, you know you don’t. You intend to stay right here and spoil my life. I came here to try and get my father to marry my mother over again. She didn’t know it, but I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ve always wanted a home like other girls and a real father and mother! And then when I got here I found you! What good do you suppose it would do me to get my father to see my mother again while you were here? She wouldn’t come here with you! She would hate you too, worse than I do. She would smile and do something terrible to you. That’s Lilla! But she would never come here with you here! Oh I shall never have a real home nor anybody that loves me!” She suddenly broke away from the window with a wild sob and darted toward the door of her own room.

Silver turned putting out her arms to try and stop her.

“Athalie! Let me speak! I will go! I did not understand before.”

But Athalie broke away fiercely.

“Well, _go_ then!” she shouted and slammed her door so that it reverberated through the house like thunder.

Down in the kitchen Anne Truesdale and Molly stopped working and looked at one another anxiously.

“It’s Miss Athalie got one of her tantrums again!” said Molly in an awed whisper.

“Well, the master’s coming home early tonight, praise be!” said Anne, and tiptoed to the door to listen. But all was still up stairs.

Silver was in her room with the door shut, kneeling beside her bed.