“Well, are John and I unjust to Mr. Sprague?” continued Nannie.
“John hasn’t been, but I thought what you said was,” reiterated Lucy steadily.
“Nannie didn’t say any more than I did,” insisted John aggressively. “I guess Jim doesn’t need our sympathy over having gotten me for a partner.”
“Why, John, how can you think I meant such a thing?” Lucy’s voice showed that she was hurt.
“Oh, well, let’s not think about it, as Lucy is always saying,” suggested Nannie sweetly.
“Yes, for the Lord’s sake!” exclaimed John. “Let’s quit stewing. We’re no poorer than we’ve always been,” he finished, as though dismissing the subject, “and we have some schemes on hand at the office that ought to net us a good thing during the next few months.”
“I’m sure you work too hard down at that old office, poor boy,” and Nannie timidly put back from John’s forehead the lock of hair which he had disarranged while talking.
“I like the work.”
“And you ought to be better paid for it,” Nannie went on.
“We have hopes,” smiled John.
“I don’t believe in women interfering in business, but if you went into something for yourself, don’t you think you could make more? As it is, you work yourself nearly to death, and Mr. Sprague gets half the profits.” Nannie’s voice and manner were very gentle.
“I’ve never thought about it,” John replied, rumpling his hair again.
“I’m sure it would be a great mistake,” advised Lucy quickly.
“Why?” inquired Nannie, looking at John.
“In the first place, it wouldn’t be right,” argued Lucy, somewhat eagerly, “after all Jim has done for us—for John—it would be—”
“Disloyal, I suppose,” said Nannie, supplying the word as Lucy hesitated, and appearing amused.
“Yes, disloyal,” repeated Lucy emphatically.
“Mr. Sprague certainly has a good friend in Lucy,” Nannie spoke to John.
Lucy flushed again. Her eyes flashed but she made no verbal retort.
“Is that your only reason, Lucy?” pursued Nannie in a purring tone.
“No!” Lucy’s attitude was almost defiant. “It’s not. Jim’s ability and judgment are worth a great deal in any business, and it would be foolish to—”
“I suppose, then, you think John is not capable of running a business for himself,” interposed Nannie accusingly before Lucy had finished speaking.
“Lucy is not very flattering.” John’s lip curled slightly. He produced a cigarette from his case. “But I guess I’d probably have found some way to support her, even if I had never known Jim.”
“Do you really think so, John?” asked Nannie ironically.
“Don’t you?” challenged John, half laughing.
“You dear boy, you know I think you could do anything,” she responded, squeezing his arm. “Shall we go in and try the music now?”
“Come on,” urged John, stopping, however, to light his cigarette.
They went into the living room.
Lucy remained seated in the same position, a baffled expression on her face. Dimmie had gone to sleep in a chair and a few moments later she lifted him to her shoulder and carried him upstairs to bed.
She did not return.
XIX
“John said he was going to Benton Harbor today,” Nannie observed to Lucy, who was seated near a window, darning Dimmie’s socks. She had just washed her hair and come down to the sunny dining room to dry it.
“Did he?” Lucy raised her eyes in involuntary surprise, but glanced quickly down at her sewing.
“Yes,” continued Nannie, seating herself in a comfortable rocker. “He is going to see somebody about a house decoration contract.”
“Well, he’ll be back for dinner, won’t he?” Lucy inquired.
“Oh, yes. But he’ll be late, he said. He wanted me to go with him but I was afraid of getting seasick. It’s a beautiful day after all, though!” and she gazed out the window regretfully. “I have to look through a trunk, anyway,” she added, as if comforting herself.
“I didn’t know he was going,” said Lucy.
“He was worried last night and I guess he forgot to tell you.”
Lucy began to sew with renewed determination.
“I was right sorry for John last night,” Mrs. Merwent declared. “You should be more careful what you say, Lucy.”
“What do you mean, Mamma? What have I said?”
“Why, things that make John feel that—that—why, about Mr. Sprague.”
“What about him?”
Nannie’s gaze fell before Lucy’s.
“Nothing in particular, except that you show so plainly that you—”
“That I what?” Lucy demanded almost fiercely.
“Well, that you are interested in him,” murmured Nannie, with attempted calmness, adding at once, “of course I know that there is nothing between you and Mr. Sprague, but you should consider—” She stopped abruptly.
“Consider what my husband might think, I suppose,” interrupted Lucy hotly.
“Well, when you take his part against John and me you must admit that you give people a right to think things.”
“You, and not John, were the one who tried to queer Jim, and I would have taken the part of anyone under the circumstances,” returned Lucy indignantly, “and if you want to think evil of it, you can do so.”
“Well, John agreed with everything I said,” defended Nannie.
“Then, if he wants to think badly of me, he can too!” Lucy exclaimed angrily. “It would evidently suit you if he did.”
“How can you say that, Lucy, when I was trying to save you from just such things! That’s the gratitude a mother gets—especially if she’s forgiven a lot in her child,” complained Nannie in a tremulous voice.
“Most of the evil you are always so anxious to save me from only exists in your own mind, Mamma. I would be much more grateful if you would quit thinking of nasty things to forgive me for,” retorted Lucy bitterly.
“Well,” replied Mrs. Merwent, “I’m sure I’ve done my duty. I didn’t want John to get suspicious, but—”
“That’s why you keep suggesting vile interpretations of innocent things to him!” interpolated Lucy disgustedly, springing to her feet and gathering up her mending.
“Why, Lucy,” began Nannie, on the verge of tears. But Lucy went into the hall, and ascended the stairs.
A few moments later she returned with her hat and coat on.
“I’m going out,” she announced. Her voice was harsh. She paused in the
