“I’m going to bed.” Nannie did not speak to anyone in particular.
“Good night,” responded John and Lucy, and Mrs. Merwent ascended the stairs.
“I could hardly get her to come back,” John told Lucy after they had gone to their room. “She’s so sensitive, Lucy. She talked about the way you felt toward her. She doesn’t think you have ever gotten over your old hard feelings.”
“It wasn’t my hard feelings, John.” Lucy spoke in an emotionless tone.
“Now, Lucy,” John remonstrated, “anyone would think that you and I were perfect and nobody but Nannie was ever to blame for anything.” Lucy was silent and he went on. “She was so upset she talked about going home and marrying that Professor Walsh. I must say I think things are pretty bad when your own mother feels as though she was so little at home in her daughter’s house that she has to turn to a man like that—” He stopped.
“It’s your house, too, John,” put in Lucy, her lip quivering.
“Well, heaven knows, I don’t want to run her out of it!” he answered pettishly.
Lucy lay down on the bed, her face turned away from him. No more words passed between them and soon John, at least, was sleeping.
XVI
The morning following Jim’s visit it was raining. Dismal little rivers trickled along the eaves of the houses and Dimmie, kneeling in an arm chair by the dining room window, flattened his nose against the glass and regarded disconsolately the damp length of the rope swing that trailed from the elm tree. It swayed gently in the wind and its motion suggested many tantalizing possibilities to the small prisoner.
“Don’t mash your nose like that! You’ll get it all out of shape,” Nannie called to him, She had been eating her breakfast in mournful solitude. It was late and John had long ago gone to catch his train and Lucy was busy in the kitchen.
“Are you still angry with me, Lucy?” Mrs. Merwent questioned when Lucy came into the room for a moment.
“No,” said Lucy in a matter-of-fact voice. “I’m going shopping this afternoon if it clears off. Don’t you want to go? Mrs. Hamilton is going to look after Dimmie.”
“I suppose you despise me too much to be angry,” persisted Nannie.
“Let’s think of something else, Mamma.”
“How can I think of anything else when the only person I have in the world feels hard towards me?”
“But I don’t feel hard toward you, Mamma.”
“No! You can take a lofty attitude, Lucy. I was the one who was put in a humiliating position.”
“I didn’t suppose you were saying nasty and untrue things behind my back, Mamma, or I wouldn’t have come into the dining room.”
“You are so unjust, Lucy!” Nannie was in tears now. “You overhear a playful and joking word or two and immediately jump to the conclusion that I was backbiting you. Anybody can take a single phrase without the context and twist it into something mean.”
“I heard plenty, Mamma, to know just the sort of situation you were trying to create. But nothing is gained by talking about what’s past, so let’s try and forget it.”
“Oh, Lucy, I don’t see how you can be so cruel! There is absolutely no generous spirit in you. I have overlooked everything and never refer to it.”
“I didn’t refer to this, Mamma.”
Nannie sobbed violently.
“I see that you will never, never forgive me, Lucy.”
“I have forgiven you, Mamma.”
“Well, you wouldn’t say so. You would rather let me suffer.”
“No, Mamma. I don’t want you to suffer. It is I who have suffered about this matter.”
“That sounds a lot like you had forgiven me.”
“Well, I have,” repeated Lucy in a gentler tone.
Mrs. Merwent went to her daughter and put her arms around Lucy’s neck.
“Kiss me, Lucy,” she implored. “I can’t bear to have you not love me and respect me. I hate to be forgiven by my own child!”
Lucy softened suddenly and returned Nannie’s kiss, but without speaking.
The sky cleared later in the day, and when Dimmie was dispatched to Mrs. Hamilton’s house with a note Lucy and Nannie took the train to the city.
Mrs. Merwent wore a black tailored suit and a black and white hat. Her heavily figured veil was very becoming.
As they were leaving the station Miss Storms in her car called out: “Lucy! Are you going to give me the dead cut, dear child? How are you?” and she descended from the automobile.
“You’re looking fagged, dear,” she observed as she kissed Lucy. Then her eye caught Nannie’s.
“This is my mother, Mrs. Merwent, Miss Storms,” Lucy explained.
Nannie bowed stiffly, ignoring Miss Storms’ smile and half extended hand. Lucy showed that she was disturbed. Miss Storms stood very straight, drew herself up to her tallest, and kept one hand on the open door of her limousine.
“How are John and dear little Dimmie?” she inquired. “And Jim Sprague too? I haven’t seen him for a month.”
“Oh, we’re all well, thank you,” replied Lucy. “I would have been in to see you but I’ve been very busy since Mamma came.”
“I can imagine so.” Miss Storms smiled impersonally. “I’m sure you are enjoying your mother’s visit.” Then, including Nannie, “How do you like Chicago, Mrs. Merwent?”
“Very much indeed,” stated Nannie with great dignity.
“By the way, Lucy, I’ve been wanting to see you, but I’ll call you up on the phone in a day or two.” Miss Storms then spoke in a general tone. “Can I take you two anywhere?”
“No, thank you,” answered Lucy.
“Well, goodbye, dear. Don’t work too hard,” and she pinched Lucy’s cheek. Again in the impersonal tone she had used a moment before, “Goodbye, Mrs. Merwent,” and Miss Storms returned to her seat in the car and snapped the door to, scarcely waiting to hear Nannie’s response.
As the machine whirred away Miss Storms waved her hand to Lucy, who waved back with a smile.
“Shall we walk, Mamma, or had you rather take a street car?” asked Lucy.
“Lucy,” said Nannie, her voice trembling, “I
