Making Over Martha 25
A familiar figure appeared in the open doorway.
Martha paused a moment, then came forward swiftly.
"Another——?" she inquired, her hands busying themselves at once in
obedience to the doctor’s silent orders.
He shook his head. "No."
Presently Martha felt a quiver of muscles beneath her fingers. Madam
Crewe’s eyelids lifted. She made an effort to raise herself.
"What’s all this—to-do?" she taxed her strength to demand.
Dr. Ballard laid a restraining hand upon her shoulder.
"Nothing. That is, nothing serious. You’d been over-exerting. Nature
stepped in and shut down the shop for a moment."
"Meaning—I lost consciousness? For how long? How came Slawson here?
Did you send?"
Martha answered in the doctor’s stead.
"No’m. I just happened along. My Sabina, she took it into her head
this afternoon there was no place like home—an’ she was glad of it. Her
an’ me disagreed on some triflin’ matters, an’ she threatened she’d
leave if I didn’t come to terms. I tol’ her: ’I’m sorry you feel that
way, but if you concluded you must go, why, I s’pose you must. We all
enjoyed your s’ciety for the last five years, but the best o’ friends
must part, an’ far be it from me to stand in your way, if you perfer to
look for another situation, an’ think you can better yourself. I’ll do
up your things for you, for luck!’ So I did an’ out she stepped, as
bold as brass, with her clo’es done up in a bundle slung on the end of a
old gulf-stick Mr. Ronald he give her brother Sammy, to carry over her
shoulder. She ain’t been gone above three hours, but I thought while I
was bringin’ up the evenin’s milk, I’d ask if, maybe, she’d blew in
here?"
Madam Crewe compressed her lips. "No. Even your baby would know better
than to come here for a happy home," she said with a caustic smile. "On
your way back, you’d better look for _my_ child, who, also, has probably
run away. It seems to be the fashion nowadays for youngsters to defy
their elders."
Dr. Ballard gave Martha a look.
"Well, I must be movin’. I took the liberty to bring you a form o’
Spanish cream I made this afternoon. It’s kind o’ cool an’ refreshin’,
when you ain’t an appetite for substantialler things."
Passing Katherine’s door she paused and lightly tapped on the panel.
There was no answer. She dared not take it on herself to turn the knob,
so went slowly downstairs, and, finally, out of the house and grounds.
Once in the road she saw, a short distance ahead of her, an easily
recognizable figure.
"Oh—Miss Katherine!" she called softly.
For a moment the girl seemed undecided what to do. She walked on as if
she had not heard the call, then suddenly wheeled about and stopped.
"I was afraid I’d missed you," Mrs. Slawson said casually. "All I
wanted, was to tell you that if your gran’ma shouldn’t be so well after
her faintin’-spell, why, I’m ready to come an’ help any time, be it
night or day."
Katherine looked up, her face changing quickly.
"Fainting-spell?" She echoed the words vaguely.
"Yes. She come out o’ this one all right, but if she had another you
couldn’t tell, at her age, poor ol’ lady! Thanks be! it wasn’t a
stroke. Anyhow, I’d advise you keep Eunice Youngs overnight, to run an’
carry, if need be."
The struggle was short and sharp. Martha pretended not to see. She
pretended not to be aware that Miss Katherine had on her traveling hat,
carried her coat over her arm, a bag in her hand.
"I’ll go back!" the girl said at last, as if ending a debate.
"Be sure you send if you need me," Martha repeated.
They parted without another word, and Mrs. Slawson, resuming her
homeward way, summed up the case to herself.
"Yes, she’s gone back this time. But come another tug o’ war between
her an’ the ol’ lady, an’ I wouldn’t be so certain. I wonder now, how
my young vagabone is doin’, which her brothers an’ sisters are all out
on the still-hunt, searchin’ for her this minute."
She had barely reached the house, and was busying herself with
preliminary supper preparations, before starting out again to look for
her stray lamb, when the screen-door was gently opened from without, and
a small person, very grimy as to outward visible signs, very chastened
as to inward spiritual grace, entered the kitchen quietly.
Martha appeared totally unconscious of any other presence than her own,
until Sabina’s mind became vaguely troubled with doubts of her own
substantiality. Her pilgrim’s pack slipped from her shoulder, the
"gulf-stick" fell clattering to the floor. Even then Mrs. Slawson made
no sign.
The suspense was fast becoming unendurable. The child’s under-lip thrust
out, her chin began to quiver, but she controlled herself gallantly.
Nixcomeraus, the cat, rose from where he had been lying curled up in a
doze, humped a lazy back, stretched, yawned, and, with dignified mien,
crossed the floor to rub against his little friend’s familiar legs.
That something, at least, recognized her, and knew she had come home,
after her long, weary absence, almost upset Sabina’s equilibrium. She
bent down to stroke pussy’s fur.
"I see," she essayed, with a superb effect of nonchalance, "I see you
still have the same old cat!"
At the sound of her voice Martha turned.
"My, my!" she exclaimed, one hand clasping the other in surprise, "you
don’t mean to say this is Sabina! How glad I am to see you! Won’t you
sit down an’ stay a little while? Cora an’ Francie an’ Saromy’ve gone
out strollin’, but they’ll be back before long, an’ they’d be
disappointed if you’d ’a’ went before they got home, so’s they’d miss
your call."
Sabina’s eyes rolled. She gulped hard once, twice, three times. Then
with a roar, her "austere control" gave way, she cast herself bodily
upon her mother, clasping the maternal massive knees.
"I ain’t goin’ to stay _a lit-tle whi-ile_," she sobbed. "I’m goin’ to
stay _always_. I want C-Cora! ’n’ I want F-Francie! ’n’ I want S-Sammy!
’n’ YOU!"
Martha bent to lift the giant-child so the stout little arms could
clutch her neck.
"Now, what do you think o’ that!" she ejaculated, holding the shaken
traveler close.
Appeared Sammy in the doorway, troubled at first but brightening
suddenly at sight of his recovered sister.
"Hey, Sabina’s home!" he shouted ecstatically back to the others. Then
all came trooping in with a rush, clinging about the youngest, hugging
her, kissing her as if she had been gone a year.
"Why, it’s just like the Prodigal’s son, ain’t it?" suggested Martha, in
whose lap Sabina sat enthroned, refusing to leave it for even a moment.
"Who’s he?" asked Sammy.
Mrs. Slawson cast a look of reproach at her son.
"Shame on you, to ask such a question, at your age! Don’t you remember
the old prodigal gen’lman lived in the Bible, which his son had a rovin’
disposition an’ went off gallivantin’ till his pervisions give out, an’
he had to come home to get a square meal? When his father saw’m afar
off, he got up, an’ went out, an’ called’m a fatted calf, an’—no I I’m
wrong, he asked’m wouldn’t he _like_ some fatted calf, which, his son,
bein’ fond o’ young veal, _did_, an’ so they killed’m—I mean the calf.
Now I’m wonderin’ which one o’ you three I better do it to for Sabina!
There, there, Sabina! Don’t holla so! O’ course I don’t mean I’d reely
hurt your brothers an’ sisters. Come, you’re all tired out, or you
wouldn’t be so foolish! Cheer up, now! You’re back home, after all
your wanderin’s, an’ you won’t be naughty any more—_if you can help it_,
will you?"
*CHAPTER XI*
Whatever had been the cause of disagreement between Madam Crewe and her
granddaughter, Martha noticed that a negative peace, at least, had been
restored by the time she had occasion to go to Crewesmere again.
"And so you’ve been aiding and abetting a run-away girl, eh?" the old
lady accosted her sharply.
Mrs. Slawson had almost forgotten the Ellen Hinckley episode, in the
quick succession of events nearer home.
"You mean——" she pondered.
"You know perfectly well what I mean. The Hinckley girl. You assisted
her to make her escape from that Buller brute. I hope you thought well,
before you took the risk."
"Risk?" repeated Martha.
"Yes, _risk_. Evidently you don’t know the difference between courage
and recklessness."
"No’m, I don’t. But I’ll look’m up in the dickshunerry."
Madam Crewe brought her teeth together with a snap.
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