Cloudy Jewel (Romance Classic). Grace Livingston Hill
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picture when he was a little boy? What a funny collar and necktie! But wasn’t he a darling? I love the way his hair curls around his face. I can remember Daddy quite well. Mother used to say he was a wonderful man. I think he must have been a good deal like you. Our old nurse used to say that families went in streaks. I guess you and Daddy were off the same streak, weren’t you? I hope Allison and I will be, too. Say, Cloudy, can’t I have this picture of Daddy to hang in my room in our new house? I love it.”
Ellen Robinson wondered whether they had classified her as another “streak,” and somehow the thought was unpleasant. It was like one of those little rare mirrors that flash us a look now and then in which we “see oursel’s as ithers see us,” and are warned to take account of stock. As she climbed the old stairs, Ellen Robinson took account of herself, as it were, and resolved to show a better side to these children than she had shown heretofore; and so, when she appeared among them, she put aside her grim aspect for a while, and spoke in quite an affable tone:
“Well, you certainly can work!”
The contrast was so great that both the young people blinked at her in wonder, and a smile broke out on Leslie’s lovely face. Somehow it warmed Aunt Ellen’s heart, and she went on:
“But you all must be tired. You better come up to our house for supper to-night. You won’t have any chance to get it here.”
“Oh, we don’t mind picnicking,” said Leslie hastily. Then she caught a glimpse of her aunt’s face, and her natural kindliness came to the front. “But of course that would be lovely if it won’t be too much trouble for you,” she added pleasantly with one of her brilliant smiles, although she could see Allison making violent motions and shaking his head at her from the other room, where he was out of his Aunt Ellen’s sight. Leslie really had a lovely nature, and was always quick to discern it when she had hurt any one. Ellen Robinson looked at her suspiciously, alert for the insult always, but yielded suddenly and unexpectedly to the girl’s loveliness. Was it something in Leslie’s eyes that reminded Ellen of her big brother who used to come home now and then, and tease her, and bring her lovely gifts? She watched Leslie a moment wistfully, and then with a sigh turned away. She wished one of her little girls could look like that.
“Well, I’d better go right home and get supper ready,” she said alertly; and there was a note of almost pleased eagerness in her voice that she was included in this function of packing and moving that seemed somehow to have turned into a delightful game in which weariness and care were forgotten.
“I’ll have supper ready to dish up by seven o’clock,” she admonished her astonished sister as she swept past the bedroom where she was at work putting away blankets and pillows in camphor. “You won’t be ready much before that; but don’t you be a minute later, or the supper will be spoiled.”
By which admonition Julia Cloud became aware that Ellen was going to favor them with some of her famous chicken potpie. She stood still for a whole minute with a light in her eyes and a smile on her face, listening to Ellen’s retreating footsteps down the stairs; then, as the Ford set up its churning clatter, she turned back to her task, and murmured softly, “Poor Ellen!”
The supper passed off very well. Herbert was a trifle gruff and silent; but it was plain that Allison’s stories amused him, for now and then a half-smile crept into his stolid countenance. Julia Cloud was so glad that she could have cried. She hated scenes, and she dreaded being at outs with her relatives. So she ate her chicken potpie and fresh pumpkin-pie thankfully, and forgot how weary she was. After supper Leslie sat down at the piano, and rattled off rag-time; and she and Allison sang song after song, while the children stood about admiringly, and even Herbert sat by as at a social function and listened. The atmosphere was really quite clear when at last they prepared to leave, and Julia Cloud had an inkling that the big blue car had something to do with it.
“That’s some car you’ve got,” said Herbert patronizingly as he held a lantern for them to get down the steps. “Get it this year? What do you have to pay for that make now? I’m thinking of getting a new one myself pretty soon.”
Down upon their knees in the lantern-light went the two men of the party, examining this and that point of interest, their noses turned to the mysterious inner workings of the wonderful mechanism, while Julia Cloud sat and marveled that here at last was something which Herbert Robinson respected.
And Ellen stood upon the steps, really smiling and saying how nice it had been to have them, for all the world as if they were company, all the hard lines of her rapidly maturing face softened by kindliness! It seemed like a miracle. Julia Cloud settled back into the deep cushions, and lifted her eyes to the dark line of the hills against the sky. “From whence cometh my help,” trailed the words through her tired brain; and her heart murmured, “God, I thank Thee!”
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