“Well, I certainly hope that my coming hasn’t had anything to do with it, Lucy.”
Lucy glanced up hesitatingly. “Well, to be frank, Mamma, we have a good many people here at odd times since you came,” she said with sudden resolution, “and I do wish you wouldn’t always be encouraging John to spend money.”
“I encourage John to spend money!” exclaimed Nannie. “I must say that’s a considerate way to talk to a guest, especially when it’s your own mother, and isolated as I am! You’re very kind and thoughtful. Very, Lucy!”
“Listen, Mamma,” Lucy began patiently.
“I should think ordinary tact would keep you from saying such things as that, Lucy, even if I were as callous as you seem to think, but when I’ve tried so hard to help you—” Nannie was close to tears.
Lucy sighed.
“Such a speech is complimentary to your husband, too,” persisted Nannie.
“Now, see here, Mamma,” said Lucy, stung by the last remark, “I didn’t mean anything you seem to imply, and if you can’t understand, we won’t talk any more about it.”
“Oh, very well, Lucy! Of course I’m to blame as usual. I started it. This is the gratitude I get for overlooking the past and coming here. Poor Mamma, until the day of her death, never could get over the way you treated her, and why should I expect anything different? Well, it’s just as you like!” Nannie rose and swept into the hall.
Before she could ascend the stairs, John’s step was heard on the porch and the front door was unlocked.
“Hello, Nannie!” he almost shouted. “Get your best bib and tucker on. We’re going to see the Madcap Girl! It’s a dandy clear evening. You said you wanted to see it and I’ve got tickets. Where’s Lucy? Let’s have dinner at once,” and he passed on into the dining room where Nannie followed him.
Lucy, who had gone into the kitchen, reappeared.
“Hurry up dinner, Lucy.” John’s manner was impatient. “We’re going to the theatre.”
She stopped, with a dish in her hand, and considered an instant.
“What about Dimmie?” she asked. John frowned irritably.
“Hang Dimmie!” he ejaculated, petulantly. “I should think if Mrs. Hamilton is such a friend as you say she might take care of him one night!” Again Lucy was silent a moment.
“All right,” she acquiesced finally.
“You don’t seem very jubilant about it,” commented Nannie, who was now all smiles. “I appreciate it,” she added.
When they were seated at the table John produced the tickets.
“Oh! A box!” cried Nannie, examining them gleefully. “How nice! I’ve wanted to see the Madcap Girl for so long!”
“It’s certainly a great play, by all accounts,” observed Lucy acidly.
“Why, everybody says the costumes are lovely, and there are some of the newest dances introduced,” contended Nannie. “I’ve been crazy to see it.”
“We can’t afford a box, and besides I’ve no clothes suitable for a box.” Lucy’s voice grew sharper with each word. “If you would throw away money, John, why didn’t you pick out something worth seeing? I’d rather have seen Ethel Barrymore in Midchannel, even if I sat in the gallery, than this nasty, silly thing in the best box in the house!”
“Why, you can see Midchannel too,” interrupted John, somewhat crestfallen.
“No, I can’t. We’ve spent twice as much on theatres already this month as we ought to in half a year!”
“Well, Lucy, Nannie especially wanted to see this play, and I think we ought sometimes to sacrifice our own tastes for her.”
“I’m sure I didn’t know John was going to get tickets when I innocently said I had wanted to see the play,” said Nannie. “I don’t see that I am to blame for it.”
“No one’s to blame, Nannie,” championed John. Then, turning to Lucy, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, Lucy. If you don’t want to go, say so.”
“Yes, indeed,” chimed in Nannie. “I don’t need to go. It’s not a matter of life and death. In fact I have had a little headache anyway, although I wouldn’t think of spoiling the evening after poor, dear John has been so thoughtful.”
“Well, what are you going to do?” demanded John in the captious tone he had come to use more and more often of late.
Lucy glanced at her mother before speaking.
“I’ll go,” she decided, rising from the table, “that is if Mrs. Hamilton is going to be at home.”
As Nannie rose also a glance of sympathetic understanding passed between her and John.
The two women ascended the stairs.
Lucy prepared Dimmie for the night, and, before changing her clothes for the street, went out the back way and through an alley gate into the Hamiltons’ yard. Dr. Hamilton called to her from the porch and she made her request. She returned home without telling John the result of her mission but when she dressed herself and descended to the living room she found him waiting. She wore a blue foulard dress and a black hat and as she came in she was drawing on her gloves.
“Mrs. Hamilton will be over here in a moment,” she informed him coldly in answer to his glance of inquiry. The two sat in silence as they waited for Mrs. Merwent to descend and the neighbor to arrive.
“I’m afraid we’ll be late,” remarked John regretfully, after a restless pause. “When did Mrs. Hamilton say she could come? Hadn’t you better call Nannie?”
“Mother knows perfectly well what time it is,” responded Lucy, and added, “Mrs. Hamilton had just come in from a long day in town and had to change her dress.”
“You’re not very considerate of Nannie, Lucy.”
“Well, you make up for it!” Lucy’s manner as she said this was a surprise to John.
“Lucy, I don’t understand you at all.”
“Be careful not to try too hard, John.”
“Oh, well, if you want to be sarcastic, all right!” Silence descended again.
Mrs. Hamilton entered the house through the kitchen where Lucy had left a door ajar for her. She looked tired but apologized good humoredly for her delay. John greeted her stiffly.
“The doctor may
