An Unwilling Guest (Romance Classic). Grace Livingston Hill
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pleasure. Forgetting that her chief aim should be to show her the adornments of a meek and quiet spirit she let her eyes flash many times as, according to her impetuous habit of mind, she plunged into imaginary scenes and discussions with this new girl from another atmosphere.
It was nearly eleven o'clock before the visitor came downstairs. She wore an elaborate white morning gown fastened at the belt with a clasp of gold in exquisite design. That dainty buckle worn on a morning costume accentuated the difference between these two girls to Allison. She would have kept such a rare ornament for her best gowns, but this girl doubtless had so many that it was quite common to her. Also, the stranger carried a novel in her hand and looked as utterly care-free and lazy as Allison herself would have liked to be, therefore she felt like a martyr and was filled with self-righteousness, and made a show of much bustle and haste. She plunged herself into an unnecessary piece of work which could not be left without spoiling, so that her mother had to carry the dainty tray with the lunch of rich milk, brown and white bread and butter, and a bunch of purple grapes to the guest.
Of this lunch Miss Rutherford partook leisurely, sitting in Mr. Grey's large rocking-chair, which always stood in the dining room that he might take a brief rest whenever he came in a little before a meal, and the while read her novel. Allison could see her through the open door and was offended anew. Her frame of mind was growing worse and worse. She resented the stranger's sitting in her father's chair; she resented her lying in bed and being daintily fed whenever she chose to arise; she resented the novel and the white gown and the beauty of the girl; and above all, she resented the fear that she would be there to share in her cherished brother's smiles and conversation.
It was not that her brother Maurice was given to being bewitched by any pretty girl that came along, that she was so worried about this particular one. No, it was rather the reverse with the young man. But he had his mother's gentle, kindly way of meeting every one pleasantly and giving everyone a fair chance. It hurt Allison to think that this girl, who could be so hateful to her, would be given an opportunity to show how delightful she could be to others, and Allison was quick enough at character reading to know that her brother would be more likely to receive smiles than she had been. She began to recognize in her own feelings an element that she did not admire as the day wore slowly away.
At last, toward evening, came a message from the doctor. The symptoms were very grave. The case was decidedly smallpox. Miss Rutherford desired her niece to remain where she was until the danger was past and she could plan to take her to a safe place. She intimated that she had received instructions from her brother which made her anxious to have his daughter with her as soon as possible, and for the present she was to feel that she had put her in the safest, happiest home she knew in the world, where she hoped she would be more than contented until the danger was past.
This message was brought by a member of the doctor's family who had not been near the infected house and had received it over the telephone from the doctor, but the young lady to whom it came declined to see the messenger or to touch the paper upon which the message was written, preferring to take it from Mrs. Grey's lips. She was annoyed beyond measure at its import and retired to her room to consider plans for her own alleviation.
She was certainly in no enviable frame of mind as she sat looking out the window without seeing the glowing tints of autumn leaves in such profusion. The girl in the next room, who had also fled to a refuge to bear her disappointment, though she insisted that this was just what she had expected all the morning, had the advantage of recognizing in herself the evil spirit that was dominating her being and had a will to be free from it. Not only that, but she understood what to do in order to be free. It was not long before she knelt beside her bed to confess her sin and to beg forgiveness and strength. But her heart was yet hardened toward the intruder in her home.
It was perhaps not to Miss Rutherford's advantage that mention was made that evening of the expected homecoming of the son of the house.
It came about in this way. Mr. Grey asked his wife at the supper table about some arrangements in the house which were to be made in view of Maurice's coming and talk followed in which his name was used several times. Allison said little about him, but once or twice a sentence of hers showed the guest that whoever it was that was expected, his advent would give Allison great pleasure. She studied her curiously while she ate and the others talked, wondering if he were some commonplace rustic lover, and thought it a pity that this handsome girl should not have a chance among men who were of some account. She sat on the porch alone after supper until Allison and her mother had finished the work. It never occurred to her to offer her assistance. Indeed, she would not have known how to help if she had been so disposed. She looked upon all household tasks as menial, not for such as she.
She had decided that afternoon to write to one or two New York friends and beg for invitations. She had written several letters confiding her disagreeable position and she felt certain that the returning mail would bring her an invitation to quit this dismal place, believing that she had excuse enough to send to her father. Meantime she must while away the hours as best she might until her release. It would be but a week at most she felt sure. She yawned and wished for something to do. She had read until she was weary of it. She wondered if there were any fun to be got out of the town. She must find out who this expected Mr. Morris was, as she had settled it in her mind his name should be, though the family had spoken of him as "Maurice" merely.
Allison, in obedience to her mother's request, and in penance for her ugly thoughts of the morning, came to the piazza and dutifully sat down to talk.
"Who is this Mr. Morris you are expecting?" asked Miss Rutherford at once. "Is he interesting? Does he intend staying long? He isn't your especial property is he?"
"Mr. Morris?" questioned Allison puzzled, and laughing as she suddenly comprehended the mistake, then growing angry as she further realized the import of the last sentence, she said in a dignified tone: "I think you must mean my brother Maurice. He is coming home for a short visit. He will be here a week perhaps."
"Oh, indeed!" said the guest, losing interest at once. "He is away working, I suppose."
Allison hesitated before she answered, the color growing brighter in her cheeks and her eyes shining with the slightest bit of wickedness. Then she said in a strained tone:
"Yes, he is away—working."
Why she made such an answer she did not quite understand. It gave her real pleasure to feel that for a little while before he came at least this girl would not look upon her precious brother as a possible subject upon whom to exercise her charms. Ordinarily she would have resented the evident slight in the expression about his working and would have proudly hastened to state that his work was that of a physician in Bellevue Hospital, in New York, and that he was about to enter the profession for himself with a fine opening and every prospect of success in a worldly way. She was proud of her brother and would not have been willing to let this pass if he were not coming so soon to speak for himself and show this supercilious young woman that he was in every way superior to her. A little twinge of pride gave her pleasure as she thought of the surprise Maurice would evidently be. Meantime, the other girl was looking dreamily off into the garden.
"Maurice, you said? Maurice Grey. That's curious," she said musingly; "I know a man by that name and he is awfully nice too. He's fine!"
The girl on the step started almost imperceptibly. Had they then already met? There was all the more danger in their meeting in his home. And to have her call him "awfully nice!" It was intolerable.
"Where did you meet him?" she asked, in a cold tone which she forced to be steady. "My brother has been in New York."
"Oh, it isn't your brother, of course. He's quite a different person, I fancy. My Maurice Grey is quite a brilliant man. He is a young doctor and I hear his prospects for the future are remarkable. He's a good friend of mine, or was. I have not seen him for a year. I met him abroad," and in the moonlight her face took on a softened, dreamy, wistful look.
CHAPTER V.
THE ARRIVAL OF MAURICE GREY