“That’s a good girl!” Alice jumped
up, laughing. “Don’t forget it’s
the same as a promise, and do just cheer him up a little.
I’ll say good-bye to him before I go out.”
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, I’ve got lots to do. I thought
I’d run out to Mildred’s to see what she’s
going to wear to-night, and then I want to go down
and buy a yard of chiffon and some narrow ribbon to
make new bows for my slippers—you’ll
have to give me some money——”
“If he’ll give it to me!” her mother
lamented, as they went toward the front stairs together;
but an hour later she came into Alice’s room
with a bill in her hand.
“He has some money in his bureau drawer,”
she said. “He finally told me where it
was.”
There were traces of emotion in her voice, and Alice,
looking shrewdly at her, saw moisture in her eyes.
“Mama!” she cried. “You didn’t
do what you promised me you wouldn’t, did you—not
before Miss Perry!”
“Miss Perry’s getting him some broth,”
Mrs. Adams returned, calmly. “Besides,
you’re mistaken in saying I promised you anything;
I said I thought you could trust me to know what is
right.”
“So you did bring it up again!” And Alice
swung away from her, strode to her father’s
door, flung it open, went to him, and put a light
hand soothingly over his unrelaxed forehead.
“Poor old papa!” she said. “It’s
a shame how everybody wants to trouble him.
He shan’t be bothered any more at all!
He doesn’t need to have everybody telling him
how to get away from that old hole he’s worked
in so long and begin to make us all nice and rich.
He knows how!”
Thereupon she kissed him a consoling good-bye, and
made another gay departure, the charming hand again
fluttering like a white butterfly in the shadow of
the closing door.
Mrs. Adams had remained in Alice’s room, but
her mood seemed to have changed, during her daughter’s
little more than momentary absence.
“What did he say?” she asked, quickly,
and her tone was hopeful.
“‘Say?’” Alice repeated, impatiently.
“Why, nothing. I didn’t let him.
Really, mama, I think the best thing for you to do
would be to just keep out of his room, because I don’t
believe you can go in there and not talk to him about
it, and if you do talk we’ll never get him to
do the right thing. Never!”
The mother’s response was a grieving silence;
she turned from her daughter and walked to the door.
“Now, for goodness’ sake!” Alice
cried. “Don’t go making tragedy
out of my offering you a little practical advice!”
“I’m not,” Mrs. Adams gulped, halting.
“I’m just—just going to dust
the downstairs, Alice.” And with her face
still averted, she went out into the little hallway,
closing the door behind her. A moment later
she could be heard descending the stairs, the sound
of her footsteps carrying somehow an effect of resignation.
