'Oh, dear me, I'd forgotten.' Susan looked concerned. 'But I'm glad,' she said, 'and I think you were right' She patted Alice's hand with a kind of indignant support 'Why did Fred call you Mrs. Innes?' blurted Alice. 'If I shouldn't ask, please just say so. But rU go on making mistakes if I don't ask questions.'
'Of course,' said Susan sympathetically. 'You must be wondering. It's only because they are the Misses Whidock, you see, and after their father died and I moved into the cottage. . . . Well, it seemed better not to confuse everybody.'
Alice shook her head as if to convince herself that this explained anything.
'It's hard for you to understand, I know,' Susan said. 'But they never thought I quite measured up to Sophia, you see.'
'Why not?' said Alice bluntly. 'Because I was in service here.' 'Oh.'
Susan's eyes, that had been watching, relaxed into thoughtfulness. 'Stephen always did exactly as he pleased, but I'm afraid it was pretty hard on the girls. They had just come back from Europe, too.' She sighed. 'Well, that was long ago.'
'I wish Innes had taken me to your house,' Alice said impulsively.
'I wish so, too. Perhaps he will, someday. Or, at least you must come.'
There it was, something unsure, between Innes and his mother. But Ahce liked her. Her instinct was stubborn about that.
Now the doctor was helping Innes to his feet. 'He says,' called Innes in a pleased voice, 'that I will be just as imcomfortable in the car as anywhere else. So we'll go along.'
'Is it really all right?' Alice was anxious. 'I think so,' the doctor said. 'He has gotten rid of whatever poisoned him. He will feel weak, of course. And he had better stick to liquids for a day or so. He tells me
'Tell Fred, will you, dear?' Innes wobbled. 'Good-by mother.'
Alice watched them. Susan patted his sleeve, reaching out from a little distance, as if she dared not come closer. Innes was uncomfortable. Alice already knew him well enough to be sure of that. He was not at ease with his mother.
Alice went with the doctor out into the hall.
Fred was there. 'You can put my bag in the car,' she told him. 'We're going ahead.'
Her bag was already at his feet. Fred picked it up and went out
The doctor said, 'Good-by, Miss Brennan.'
'I'm grateful to you for coming,' Alice said, 'and I must apologize if I've embarrassed you. I didn't know. But I'm very glad you came. And I do thank you.'
The doctor's eyes showed an imexpected twinkle. 'Quite all right, Miss Brennan. Ill send a bill.' He looked slyly around the hall. The velvet curtains to the parlor had been drawn, covering the opening and shutting them in. 'Where are they?' His lips barely moved.
Alice shrugged and felt her dimpb surge into her cheek as it did when she suppressed a smile.
The doctor said, 'Well, this has been an adventure. Now I think I'll just take Susan home.'
Susan and Innes came through the sliding doors. He walked without her help, but he looked ghastly. 'I think .. .' he said, '. . . excuse me.'
He wobbled off down the hall. There was a bathroom back there, across the far end of it, connecting both into the hall and to Gertrude's room, behind the parlor. Innes went in and closed the door.
'Good-by, Alice.' Alice kissed her mother-in-law to be. The old lady's cheek was soft and fragrant. Dr. Follett gathered Susan under his wing and left.
Alice looked up the stairs. Beyond the railing up there she could see only the table and the big old-fashioned kerosene lamp with the flower-painted china shade that stood on it. No one was visible. The velvet curtains hung straight at her right. All was quiet. Dignified, haughty, withdrawn, invisible, the three Whitlock girls made no sign.
She picked up her hat from the hall table and turned to the mirror. She heard Fred outside; she heard the bathroom door open, and Innes's footsteps, sounding firmer. Then Fred was in at the front door. Still looking at herself in the glass, Alice knew quite well that Innes was part way down the hall to her left and that Fred was close to her, at the right. That the comings and goings were part of the rhythm of their departure. She felt no alarm, nothing.
But the hall exploded with soimd and movement. She felt Fred move like a streak, heard him cry out, and then crash. She turned to see Innes huddled against the dioing-room wall with Fred's body holding him there, and the ruins of the big kerosene lamp scattered on the floor. A broken piece of the china shade gyrated slowly toward her and settled down at her feet. For what seemed like minutes, they stood as if they were all paralyzed in their places. Then Alice ran, stumbling, toward the men.
'Hang onto him, will you?' Fred took the stairs two at a time. Alice put herself where Fred had been and heard Innes's breathing, loud and gasping and broken in rhythm.
'Are you hurt? Did it hurt you?'
He couldn't answer except by shaking his head ever so slightly.
Fred came pounding down. 'Nobody up there. What the hell happened?'
'It fell,' Alice said stupidly.
'I don't see how it could.'
'But it fell.'
'Did you hear anything?'
