THE HONOR GIRL Read online

  “My dear! If a young man cares no more for a girl than that, that he is scared away by her surroundings, I should say it would be a good try-out to see whether he is a real man or not.”

  “The very idea that that would be a test of manliness! I’m sure I think a young man would be entirely justified in leaving a girl if she didn’t have proper relatives and a decent place to live. He would naturally think she wasn’t of much account herself.”

  “Hush, Mamma!” warned Bettina, tiptoeing over to the sitting-room door. “Elsie has come in. I heard the front door shut some minutes ago. She will hear you.”

  An ominous silence succeeded, in the midst of which Elsie opened the sitting-room door. She had been slowly coming up the stairs, and had heard almost the whole conversation. Coming as she did fresh from the tenderer thoughts of her own family, it struck her like a sharp wind. She almost shivered when she heard her aunt’s tone with regard to her brothers. Perhaps her aunt had reason to speak of her father in that tone for causes that that she knew nothing about, but the brothers were children of her own sister as much as she herself was. Why should her aunt have that attitude toward them? Something true and keen rose up in her soul—was it her conscience?—and told her that Aunt Esther was wrong and Uncle James was right. For the first time, as she approached that sitting-room door, making no sound with her slow footsteps on the thick carpet, her own resolution crystallized, and she knew in her soul that she meant to go back to that other home, at least for a time, and see what she could do to make it happier for those who lived there. Having recognized her own position, she opened the door, and walked into the room.

  It was not like Elsie to mince matters once she had decided; so now, though she saw the hostile attitudes of both aunt and cousins, she determined to speak out and have the matter over.

  Katharine and Bettina, at the two front windows from which they had been watching for her coming, turned and looked at her. They knew her regal air, and understood that Elsie was about to throw down the gauntlet. Even in their annoyance with her they could but admire the grace and frankness with which she came straight to the point.

  She walked over to her uncle, and stood beside him, feeling that he of them all would be most likely to understand her and take her part.

  “Aunt Esther,” she said gently, “I’m very sorry to be late tonight. I ought to have phoned you; but it got late before I realized it, and there wasn’t any phone near by when I discovered the time. I supposed you would know where I have been, though, and would understand that I was all right.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know why I would understand that if you have been out to Morningside. You certainly know I do not approve of your going there, and that it distresses me greatly to have you do as you have been doing the last three weeks.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Esther.” Elsie drew a long sigh, and plunged in. “I’m very sorry. You and Uncle James have been just beautiful to me, and I don’t like to think of distressing you; but sometimes there are things you just have to do, you know. I had to do this. I did indeed. And—I guess I better tell you the rest now. I’m afraid it will distress you still more, but you’ll have to know it. Aunt Esther, I’ve got to go away from this beautiful home you’ve lent me the last five years. I’ve got to go back to my father’s house. They need me there, and it’s right that I should go. I’ve been thinking it over for three weeks now, and tonight I’ve decided. I hope you won’t make it any harder for me than it already is.”

  She almost choked with a sudden sob that came into her throat as she thought of the pleasantness of all she was leaving, and she looked piteously now toward the aunt who had been like a mother to her since she lost her own. But her aunt’s face was hard and bitter.

  “It doesn’t seem to have been so hard,” she answered coldly, “when you can decide so easily.”

  “Oh, it hasn’t been easy!” exclaimed the girl with a catch of her breath. “You don’t know how hard it has been to think of leaving you all and going away from the things I love. But I couldn’t get away from the thought of my father and my brothers living the way they are doing; and Auntie, if you could see the house as I have seen it, you would understand. You couldn’t leave them that way. You know my mother wouldn’t have wanted me to.”

  “It is all their own fault!” declared the relentless voice of the aunt. “Your father makes enough to have a comfortable home. There are plenty of servants and housekeepers that could be hired who would run the house and make things far more comfortable than you, an inexperienced young girl, could possibly do. Your father could have a good home if he chose to take the trouble to do so. If he doesn’t choose, I don’t see that you are called upon to give up your opportunities in life, and tie yourself down to living that way. You have your own life to live and yourself to think of. You can’t do your schoolwork justice if you take on the burdens of housekeeping. You surely are not going to give up and become a slave in your father’s house.”

  “No, I am not going to give up school. I am going to have a good servant, and give her directions. I have got to go out there and make that place over, and have a cheerful home for my father and brothers.”

  The look her mother used to wear when she insisted on marrying the man they did not like came over the girl’s face, reminding her aunt warningly of former years.

  “Why, certainly, that is commendable, of course, if it doesn’t take too much time from your other work. I’d be willing to secure a good servant for your father, and go out there occasionally and give her directions, say once a month, myself; and you might run out occasionally—motor out with some of your friends and drop in, just to show the maid there is somebody to watch her. But the idea of your going out there to live is ridiculous. It is impossible. I couldn’t consent to it for a moment. That is no place for a young girl to be, in a house with three irresponsible grown men who wouldn’t have an idea how to look after her comfort. It is what I took you away from, and I certainly do not intend that you shall return to it. Your uncle and I wish you to stay with us until such time as you see fit to go out and make your own home somewhere when the right time comes.”

  Elsie dropped into a chair, and took a deep breath; but her firm little lips had not relaxed. She knew she must fight the battle to the finish, now that she had begun.

  “Auntie, you do not understand,” she said gently, speaking low. “It is not just a servant to keep the house in order they need. It is a woman in the house to love them and make things cheerful evenings when they come home. Have you ever stopped to think what there has been in Jack’s life to make him want to grow up to be a good man? Did you ever realize what Eugene does with his evenings? Can you possibly know what it would be for my father to come home night after night to a dark, empty house, and have nobody there to be glad he had come? I’ve been there now for several Saturdays, and you can’t think how desolate, how utterly dreary—”

  “I can imagine how desolate and utterly dreary it will be for you,” interrupted her aunt pointedly.

  “Well, why shouldn’t I bear a part of it if I can’t make it better?” responded the girl quickly. “But I don’t intend to bear it. I intend to make a change in it. I’m going to have the old piano tuned, and play a good deal, and sing with the boys; and I’m going to read to them sometimes; and we’re going to make fudge, and have in some young people, and see if we can’t make the old house cheerful again. Why, Auntie, it would have broken your heart if you could have seen my father’s face when he found I was going to stay to supper tonight. I’ve got to go! I couldn’t stand it not to go. It wouldn’t be right; and, if you could just understand it all, you would say so too.”

  “Let her go!” said Katharine crossly. “Let her go try it, Mamma; it’ll cure her quicker than anything else. Let her see what it is to stay at home evening after evening. No symphony concerts, no automobile rides, no invitations, no friends running in, no boxes of candy and American Beauty Roses! No Halsey Kennedy coming after her any more. He was
sore as could be this morning because she wouldn’t go motoring with us, and he hardly spoke all day. He’ll go back to Celia Baxter if she doesn’t look out. But let her go and try it. You’ll see her back here again before the week’s out, or I’ll miss my guess.”

  Then Bettina.

  “Elsie, I think you’re just carried away with the idea of keeping house yourself and having two big brothers to see you around. But you’ll find they won’t pay you a bit of attention after you’ve been there a week. They likely have their girls and their friends, and you’ve grown apart in all these years you’ve been separated. You can’t possibly get together again just by going back there to live.”

  “Then we’re going to grow together again,” said Elsie with that firm little set of her lips like her mother. “Bettina, I thought after I got things settled you and Katharine and some of our friends in town here would come out often and help me.”

  There was a wistfulness in her tone, which her cousins did not fail to notice and take advantage of.

  “No, indeed!” tossed Katharine, flinging herself into a big chair indifferently. “You can’t count on us. We’re not foreign missionaries. I’m not going to give up my good times to go out to Morningside. If you can cut us out so easily, you’ll have to get on without us. I might come out and call sometime, but I haven’t time to spend bothering out there. You haven’t any idea what you’re doing, of course. You’ll just have to go and try it, but anybody else could see with half an eye that you and your brothers are not going to hit it off together after you’ve been separated this way, you with an education and they with none.”

  It was right then and there that Elsie, noting the curl of her cousin’s lip, resolved in her heart to change Katharine’s opinion of her brothers or die in the attempt. Her eyes flashed and her lips quivered, but she held her ground firmly. She arose with a kind of sad finality in her manner, and gathered up her things.

  “Well, you’re all against me!” she said bravely with a tremble in her voice. “I had a feeling you would be, but I have to do it, anyway. He’s my father, and they’re my brothers, and they need me and want me; and I’ve got to go. I should hate myself if I didn’t. And, besides, I really want to go.”

  Then her uncle spoke up. He had been watching her keenly all through the conversation. Now there was a light in his eyes as if he were pleased.

  “No, we’re not all against you, Elsie,” he said. “I’m with you. I think you are doing just right. If you’ve got it in your heart to make a home for those who are your own flesh and blood, it would be criminal in us to stop you. It’s your right and your privilege. And, much as we shall miss you, we ought to help you to do what you think is right. It’s a beautiful thing you have chosen to do, and I’m proud of you for wanting to do it. Remember, though, that you have a second home here whenever you want it, and a place in all our hearts just the same as ever; and, if you ever get to a tight place where you need some one to help you or advise you, come to me, and I’ll do my best. A girl that is willing to tackle a job like that is some girl, I tell you, and I’m proud to be uncle to her.”

  Then suddenly Elsie’s courage gave way, and she went and flung her arms around her uncle’s neck, and buried her face on his shoulder, while the tears took rapid possession of her. Her uncle patted her shoulder comfortingly, and it was all very still in the room. When her face lifted apologetically, there was no one else there but her uncle and herself. They had all stolen out quietly. Elsie knew it was because they did not approve of her uncle’s course toward her, and because they were unwilling to show her how sorry they were for her. They thought it would be better to let her suffer now, and so break down her purpose.

  Her uncle patted her again and smiled.

  “You’re going to do a grand thing, child, and I’m sorry we can’t all be unselfish enough to be glad for you. I guess your father needs you too. You’ll do him good.”

  “I guess it will do me good, too, Uncle James,” said Elsie meekly, trying to smile through her tears. “I’ve been living a pretty nice selfish life for the last five years. It’s time I took some of the hardships.”

  “But you mustn’t think we shan’t miss you, child,” said her uncle again with a sigh. “You’ve been like one of our own, you know, and we don’t know the difference.” Then he stooped and kissed her goodnight. Elsie went up to her pretty room where the lamp was lighted, touching with a rosy glow the brass bed, with its blue satin eider-down comforter rolled at the foot, its pretty silver things on the little bird’s-eye maple dressing-table, its blue and white draperies, its long mirror in the closet door that had been put in so she could see how her dresses hung, and all the pretty trifles that had been added to that room from time to time just to please her. She would have to leave it all and go to that other forlorn little room. Could she ever endure it? A sudden rush of tears again blurred the sight of the beloved things; and she shut the door quickly and locked it.

  She could hear Bettina and Katharine talking in low, annoyed tones. She knew they were discussing her. She could hear her aunt walking about in her room on the other side of the hall, and she thought how it would be to be away from them every night; not to be at the pleasant supper-table, nor have the young people coming in the evening, nor go to the different entertainments together any more; and all at once it seemed more than she could bear, and she had an impulse to rush in and tell her aunt she had not meant it, that she could not go ever.

  But instead she threw herself down on the pretty bed, and cried as if her heart would break.

  After a little the enormity of her sacrifice dwindled somewhat, and she was able to look at things more sanely. She was able to remember once more the things that had called her out to Morningside, and made her really want to go and stay. She recalled her father’s sad smile, and the wistful lighting of Jack’s eyes when he had said how great it would be if she were there all the time. She thought of that row of photographs on Gene’s bureau, and suddenly she felt sure once more that nothing could move her from her purpose. She would go and she would see whether there was not some way to make her brothers as interesting and attractive in the eyes of the world as if they too had been taken by Aunt Esther when they were younger and brought up as she had been. It should not be too late! She would see what she could do. She would make them go to college, perhaps. What if she should?

  And in the sudden rush of thoughts over this idea she brightened up and prepared herself for retiring. But, when she lay down, it was not to sleep. Her mind went over and over the day’s experiences: Her brothers’ joy over finding her in the house; the bright things they had said and done; the way they had helped her and tried to make things easier; the gratitude they had so freely expressed. Her heart thrilled and thrilled again, and she knew perfectly now that no brass beds and silver-backed hairbrushes and satin coverlets, no, nor aunts, nor cousins, nor friends would be able to keep her from the course she had chosen to take. She had tasted the joy of service for love, and she could never be satisfied to live just for self again.

  Chapter 10

  The Sabbath was a rather unhappy day. Aunt Esther and the girls went about with gentle, hurt looks upon their faces, frequent sighs, and an abstracted, anguished air that wrung poor Elsie’s heart. One or two attempts the girl made to win her aunt over to her way of thinking, but received only cold, bitter words concerning her father or else a rush of tears.

  “Better let her alone a bit, little girl,” whispered her uncle after Elsie’s last attempt, when her aunt had left the room in tears. “She’ll come to see and understand, and she knows in her heart it’s right. That’s what’s hurting her. Just wait, and she’ll come around and be proud of you all right, Elsie.” Elsie quite sadly said no more, but she did a good deal of thinking and planning.

  Monday afternoon she took the trolley for Morningside. There were some things she must arrange before matters went any further, and now was the time to do it before Aunt Esther said anything more. She must have a talk w
ith her father.

  When she reached Morningside, she stopped at the store, got some oysters, and ordered milk, crackers, celery, and a few other things sent up. It wouldn’t take long to make an oyster stew, and she could talk while they were eating. She noticed some cut flowers in one of the shop windows, and went in and bought three big yellow chrysanthemums. Perhaps her father and brothers wouldn’t care for them, but they seemed to brighten things up a lot for her and to give her courage to make the big changes that were before her.

  It was half past four when she reached the house, and there was not much time to do a great deal. She went upstairs, and did a bit of tidying. A glance into her own room gave her a moment of homesickness. She would have to have that thoroughly cleaned before she could feel at home there. Would she ever feel at home? Well, never mind, so long as she made a home for the others!

  She took the things out of the tiny closet, and carried them up to the storeroom. She dusted the bureau and the books and chairs, gave a hopeless look at the old walnut bedstead, and reflected that she must get together some bedding for herself if she were coming out to live. Then she shut the door, and went downstairs. It would be time enough to think about that room when she had to live in it. She wouldn’t have to be in it much, anyway; so why worry? It would be only nights and mornings. There would be so much to be done she wouldn’t have time to think of herself.