Maris Read online

  "What difference does it make when the invitations go out?" asked Mr. Thorpe amusedly.

  "There! That's just like you, Mr. Thorpe! As if you didn't know manners and customs and understand that we'll be the laughingstock of all people who know what is the right thing to do."

  "Well, I think you're all wrong, Mama. I think you ought to let that little girl manage her own affairs at least until she's married to Tilford."

  "Oh, you would, of course," sighed Tilford's mother. "I ought to have known better than to mention it before you. I wish you wouldn't say any more about it. My nerves are simply at the limit. I'm going down there tomorrow morning the first thing and have some words with that hystericky mother and make her understand that she can't upset all our plans by a little gesture of illness! Tilford, if you will come up to my room after you have finished your coffee, I'll be glad to discuss this matter with you and see what we can work out together about those invitations, but I simply can't stand your father's stupid remarks any longer. He knows better, but he likes to annoy me. You'll have to excuse me!" And Mrs. Thorpe swept from the room.

  Later Tilford went to his mother's room, and they continued their discussion.

  "Listen, Tilford," said his mother as they settled down to talk, "has that child really got the measles, or did it turn out to be scarlet fever?"

  "I'm sure I don't remember," said Tilford gloomily. "What difference does it make?"

  "Well, one is supposed to be a little more deadly than the other, that's all," said his mother frigidly. "And I've been thinking back. It wasn't real measles you had when you were a child, it was German measles, and it seems to me that I've heard that you can have all three. The other is French, isn't it? I can't remember, but if it's regular measles, you'd better stay away from that house. You might get them, you know, and it seems to me I've heard it goes very hard with grown people when they get them. It's either measles or mumps, I'm not sure which. But you'd better be on the safe side and stay away. It would be simply dreadful if you should get the measles. It certainly would bring that family into the limelight with a vengeance. It would make you ridiculous, Tilford. People would never forget it that you couldn't get married because you had the measles!"

  "For heaven's sake, Mother! Haven't I trouble enough now without you bringing up an idea like that! You can't get measles unless you come into contact with the patient, and you can make sure I'll never do that."

  "No, but seriously, Tilford, you'll just have to tell Maris that she should come here if she wants to see you, that we don't approve of your running into danger! You'll simply have to make that girl give up her headstrong notions and let her precious family look out for themselves, or give you up! I fancy that will bring her to her senses!" The mother finished with a triumphant gleam in her eyes, but Tilford continued to march gloomily back and forth across the room.

  "You don't know Maris," he said bitterly. "It wouldn't faze her in the least. When she gets started on something, she has to finish it, no matter what she upsets."

  "Well, but I thought you said she was pliable, so easy to mold, so ready to yield to whatever you wanted. Those are your very words, my son."

  "Yes, I know. I thought so. But I've found out it isn't so. She's got to have her own way if the heavens fall!"

  "But you can't appeal to her love for you?"

  "I don't know whether she has any. I thought she was crazy about me, but now she is simply blind. She's mad to have her own way and sacrifice herself for her poor ailing family."

  "But Tilford! She must realize what a different station in life you are giving her. She must understand the enormous value of being your wife and having everything that money can buy. She cannot look at the gorgeous diamond you gave her without realizing that. You can't tell me she'd give all that up just for sentiment."

  "Wouldn't she? What would you say if I told you that she gave me back my ring tonight? Look there!" And Tilford paused beside his mother and held out the flashing stone in the palm of his hand.

  "Tilford!" His mother stared at the ring, hardly able to believe her eyes. "You don't mean you quarreled!"

  "Call it what you please. There's the ring!" said the young man in a hard tone.

  "The little ingrate!" said his mother indignantly. "And after all we've done for her! And just now at the last minute when the eyes of the whole town are upon us and the wedding almost at the door! It would certainly serve her right if you were to take her at her word and let that end it. You know, I always told you that you were in too great haste, especially when she was not in your social set. I told you no good would come of this engagement and you would find it out after it was too late. But I certainly didn't expect it to end at this stage of the game. Have those invitations gone out yet? Perhaps it's just as well."

  "Don't be a fool!" Tilford flung out at her. "You don't suppose I'm going to let her make a laughingstock of me after things have gone this far, do you? No! Certainly not. Rather than that, I'll marry her and divorce her! Let her see that I'm her master! No girl can make a fool of me like that!"

  "Well, that's true, too, of course," sighed the mother. "Well, I suppose we've got to work out some plan. I think I'll appeal to the mother. That's a good line, you know. Tell the mother how she is spoiling her daughter's life and clouding it forever."

  "I doubt if they'll let you see her," gloomed the son. "They have her entirely surrounded by a nurse."

  "You leave it to me!" said Mrs. Thorpe capably. "I'll soon quell the nurse. I never saw a nurse I couldn't command. Nor a mother I couldn't reach by some kind of an appeal. I wonder what time of day I'd better go. Doctors usually receive their patients in their offices in the morning, don't they? I'd better go before the doctor gets around. You'd better not appear in this at all. I'll speak as woman to woman, mother to mother, and all that, you know. It's probably the only way Maris can be managed, to get her mother roused up to the situation so that she'll tell her to snap out of this idea that she's got to be a sacrifice to them all. You leave it to me, Tilly dear. I'll bring it all out right. And about those invitations, if we can get them off in the morning, I'm sure I can get the postmaster to fix the date on the postmark. That's a little thing to do, and nobody will be the wiser. People will just think their invitations were delayed on the way. Now, Tilford, I'll tell you what you do! You run over to your sister's. They're about through with dinner now. You needn't stay long. Just look very serious and say that Maris is so disappointed but you felt she ought to stay by her mother tonight, but that you're quite sure she will be all right in a day or two. Don't say anything about this measles. That's too grotesque. A bride having to stay away from a dinner especially made for her because her baby sister has the measles. Now, Tilford, cheer up, and take this thing sensibly. Don't give way to the idea that Maris is going to get away with a thing like this, or you'll have it to deal with all your life, and you'd better just take it in hand at the start and get it over with. You must be master of your own house, master of this situation. She's probably just trying to see how much she can get away with. But Mother will stand by her boy, and we'll bring things into shape tomorrow all right. Only I do wish you had heeded my warnings and got to know Ethel Framer well. She is so smart, and so correct, and has so much money. You would never have caught her giving back a magnificent ring like that even in a joke."

  "There, Mother, don't begin on that. I'm fed up on that line. I may have made a mistake in choosing Maris, but I don't intend to let anybody know it, and I certainly don't regret Ethel Framer. I had all I wanted of her the winter you tried to stuff her down my throat."

  "Well, Tilford, I suppose you'll have to learn your lessons by experience just as we all do."

  "Don't tell me you ever learned one that way, Mother," sneered the spoiled youth. "If you had, you wouldn't spend your time trying to force things upon me."

  "Now, Tilford! What do you mean? Haven't I just offered to go and appeal to this girl's mother and straighten everything out for you, when you kno
w she wasn't my choice in the first place?" The mother spoke in a high, aggrieved tone.

  "I wasn't referring to that, Mother. I was thinking of that impossible Ethel person that you tried your best to make me marry. And you knew I never could bear a person with that kind of hay-colored hair and light lashes."

  Mrs. Thorpe retired behind an expensive handkerchief and wiped a sketchy tear or two.

  "Well, I'm sure I don't want to go and invade this impossible person's home and try to teach her her duty to her child," she complained pensively. "If you don't want me to do it, just say so."

  "Oh, it won't do any harm to try it," said Tilford loftily. "Personally, I don't think you'll get anywhere with it. She's a small woman, but she's very much set in her way, and she doesn't like people to tell her what her duty is any better than you do, Mother."

  "Well, she shall hear it from me for once, anyway, whether she likes it or not," said Tilford's mother firmly. "Now, darling, go to Irma's first, and then why don't you run over to your club for a little while. You are looking awfully haggard, and it really isn't good for you to dwell on your disappointments. You trust me! I'll work this thing all out for you. And Tilford, dear, just to be on the safe side, better talk to Maris over the phone instead of going to the house. I wouldn't run any risks at all of getting measles at your age!"

  "Nonsense!" said Tilford sharply as he took himself out of his mother's room and shut the door firmly.

  "Tilford," called his father, as he passed the library door on his way out, "how about a little game of chess with your old dad? We haven't played in a long time."

  "Nothing doing!" drawled Tilford disrespectfully. "I'm going over to the club and play pool! I've got too much on my mind to play chess. Besides, that's an old man's game!" And Tilford went out the front door and gave it a decided slam.

  The father sighed and went back to his paper. He did not really want to play chess. But it seemed to him that it had been a very long time since Tilford was a little boy.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It had been a very hard night at the Mayberry house. The mother had had another sinking spell. Not as terrifying as the others but enough to make them send for the doctor and look at one another with frightened eyes.

  The spell had not lasted so long as the others, and she had responded more quickly to the medicine. But when it was all over and her tired heart was going steadily on again in almost a normal way, Father Mayberry had a shaking chill and had to be put to bed himself, though he protested most earnestly. Merrick had established himself as night nurse to watch over his father and had come in once or twice when he heard Maris in Lexie's room. His eyes were large and worried, and he seemed to have matured during the night. He proved himself most efficient, administering his father's medicine on the hour, helping Maris to smooth the bedding and lift the little restless patient into a more comfortable position. Maris thought of it gratefully as she lay down again after the child was quieted. And then he came tapping at the door again with a glass of milk for Maris. His thoughtfulness was unprecedented.

  "You've gotta keep your strength up, you know. What would we do if you got sick?" he said earnestly. And Maris was so tired and anxious that she almost wept on his shoulder, though she managed a smile and a thank-you.

  The doctor came in about five o'clock and went the rounds of the patients. He looked relieved but said he would run in again during the morning. He gave special directions that the mother was not on any account to be disturbed. Her hope depended upon utmost quiet and freedom from excitement. So far she had not seemed conscious of what was going on about her, but he warned them that she might come out of this state of utter collapse and even ask questions, and that they must maintain the utmost serenity and calm, and smile, and tell her to go to sleep, that all was well.

  Then he went away and quiet settled down again. The nurse even caught a few winks of sleep, and hope seemed to have descended upon the house with a certain degree of peace.

  When Maris awoke from the longest nap she had had that night, she found the bright sunshine streaming into her window and the song of thrushes in the tall old trees around the house thrilling in the clear crystal air. A soft breeze was blowing the curtain. Oh, what would this day bring forth? Was the brightness of the morning a good omen?

  As she washed her face, brushed her hair, and put on a fresh little cotton dress, she took up one by one the burdens that she knew would confront her, but somehow she couldn't seem to fit them on her back yet. She would have to go slowly. There was Gwyneth and her school to be dealt with the first thing. How good that the little boys were safe for a while at least. Of course, they must not presume upon Lane Maitland's kindness, but he had seemed so genuine in his friendship that it was a relief to rely upon him for a few days anyway, till some other haven was offered.

  Then she heard Lexie stirring and went to her at once. The problem would be more than ever how to keep noise from Mother. Lexie must not be allowed to cry, poor little soul, miserable as she was. She must make her understand that Mother had to be considered first. So, with a weary heart, she marched into a new day.

  Mrs. Thorpe usually took time by the forelock in anything she had to do, especially if it was something she did not anticipate with pleasure. It was a little after half past ten when her car drew up in front of the Mayberry residence and she got out, pausing to lift her lorgnette to her eyes and take a long, critical survey of the house before she walked up to the front door and knocked.

  She was smartly attired in a spring morning ensemble of black and white, designed to impress the family with her importance.

  She was annoyed by the faint buzz of the doorbell after her vigorous attack upon it, and followed it up by a smart rapping with her immaculate white-gloved knuckles. But Sally came striding.

  "Don't do that!" she whispered. "You'll wake the lady, and she's had a bad night!" She glared at the caller ominously.

  "Oh, really? Well, I'll be the judge of what I'll do, and I'm in a hurry. Your bell didn't ring adequately. Where is Miss Mayberry? I want to see her at once."

  "Ye can come and sit. I'll tell her. She's gettin' her little sister ready for the doctor. She maybe can't come right away," said Sally grudgingly.

  "Well, you can tell her I have no time to wait. I want to see her at once. Tell her it's Mr. Tilford Thorpe's mother."

  "It wouldn't make no difference who it was," said Sally scathingly. "She can't come till she can." And Sally moved heavily away toward the stairs.

  Mrs. Thorpe was not good at waiting. The house seemed deathly still to her. Nobody stirred to meet her. She decided to take matters in her own hands. She arose and glanced about the room appraisingly, then she sailed into the hall and listened a moment. She heard a door open almost noiselessly, but no one was coming toward the stairs. With quick resolve, she mounted the stairs, determination in her face. She had come to do something, and it was best to get it over with as soon as possible. It was certainly fortunate that nobody was around to stop her. She didn't know the way to the sickroom of course, but it would be easy to find. She would beard the lion in his den as it were before any keepers found out what she was going to do.

  So with strong step she mounted the stairs, gave a swift glance about, decided on the door that probably opened into the master bedroom, and made for it with long easy steps.

  She loomed in the doorway for an instant, a smart, well-upholstered figure, took in every detail with a glance, then marched over and stood at the foot of the bed, looking down on the white-faced woman who lay there with closed eyes, utterly limp.

  The nurse had stepped across to the bathroom to fix fresh medicine and had not seen her come. She was running the water and had not heard her. No one else was about at the moment.

  Mrs. Thorpe cleared her throat and began in a cheerful, resonate voice:

  "Good morning!" she said briskly. "I've come to have a little heart-to-heart talk with you, Mrs. Mayberry. I've come to beg you for the sake of your daughter and her
future happiness to rouse yourself and put off this desire to give in. Just rise up and conquer your natural feelings. You must know that every mother of a daughter has to face the matter of losing her sometime or other, and it isn't worthwhile to make her and her bridegroom unhappy and spoil all their plans just for a little sentiment. Of course, I know how you feel. I'm having the same thing to bear, you remember. But I don't give way, and I felt sure if you realized how you are hurting Maris and Tilford you would just shake off this illness and let them go on with their plans. I--"

  Suddenly a voice spoke in her ear, low but dominate.

  "Stop! Get out of here!" And a large firm hand went over her mouth that was open to go on. It held there so firmly that the woman was almost choked. Then another hand went around her ample waist and gripped her arm in an iron clutch, the firm fingers digging into her flabby flesh painfully. And when she tried to cry out and struggle, she only found herself more firmly held and unable to make a sound as she was ignominiously propelled from the room and the door closed in her face.

  She had caught a fleeting vision of great dark green eyes with fear in them, in the white face on the pillow, and a nurse hurrying in with a glass in her hand. Then the door closed and she was outside on the stair landing, suddenly confronting the doctor. And it wasn't any little cheap doctor as she had supposed, either. She recognized him as Dr. MacPherson, a man very high in his profession and much sought after among her own social set.