III
During the preparation of breakfast the next morning Ethel apologized for her conduct at the supper table.
“I didn’t mean to speak of that matter at all, Grace. It’s none of my business how you met Mr. Trenton. I don’t want there to be any hard feeling between us. I realize that we look at things differently and I want you to know that before Osgood left last night I made it all right with him. I told him it was just a joke between you and me about Miss Conwell. I wouldn’t want him to think we spend our time quarreling.”
“I hope he thought it was funny,” Grace returned. “I don’t mind telling you that there’s no such person as Miss Conwell. John backed me up just because he resented the way you were ragging me. He knew perfectly well there’s no Mabel Conwell at the University.”
Mrs. Durland entered the kitchen in time to catch this last remark.
“I hope you know, Grace, that neither Ethel nor I have any wish to question you about your friends. I scolded Ethel for asking you about Miss Conwell before company. I’m sure she’s sorry.”
“I’ve apologized to Grace, mother,” said Ethel meekly.
“We assume, Grace,” said Mrs. Durland, “that you mean to hold fast to the ideals we’ve tried to teach you at home. We trust you, dear; you know that. You know all the dangers that a young girl’s exposed to and I believe you mean to make something fine and beautiful of your life. I expect that of both you girls.”
“I don’t like being pecked at and quizzed,” Grace replied. “I’ll attend to the bacon, Ethel; you needn’t bother about it.”
“I hope you and John had a pleasant evening,” said Mrs. Durland.
“Yes; it’s a very good picture. We all enjoyed it. Irene went with us.”
“Irene Kirby went with you and John to the picture show!” exclaimed Mrs. Durland. “I don’t believe you said Irene was going.”
“Grace naturally wouldn’t mention it,” said Ethel, lifting the lid of the coffee pot and closing it with a spiteful snap.
“Now, dear, let’s think the best we can of every one,” said Mrs. Durland. She had with difficulty persuaded Ethel to apologize to Grace for questioning her about the imaginary Miss Conwell and it seemed for an instant that her efforts to promote harmony were to fail, now that Grace had mentioned Irene.
“Oh, it happened by accident!” Grace explained. “Irene and I were lunching together at the store and John strolled in looking for me. And he was polite enough to include Irene in his invitation.”
“I’d hardly expect her to do anything as tame as going to a picture show,” said Ethel.
“Well, as I’ve said before, Irene isn’t as bad as you paint her. You probably wouldn’t think she’d waste time on John, but they get on famously.”
“John isn’t quite what I thought he was,” said Ethel, ignoring her mother’s signal for silence.
“That’s because he wouldn’t let you choose a church for him,” said Grace, gingerly drawing a pan of corn muffins from the oven. “John lives his religion, which is a lot better than parading it all the time.”
“Now, Grace, Ethel didn’t mean to reflect on John,” Mrs. Durland hastened to explain.
“It may give you a better impression of John to know he’s been very kind to Roy,” said Grace.
“How’s that, Grace?” asked Mrs. Durland quickly. “I didn’t get a chance to ask John about Roy.”
“John wouldn’t have told you he’d been helping Roy even if you’d asked him. John doesn’t advertise his good works. But I had a letter from one of the girls the other day and she was teasing me about John. She said he must be seriously interested in me for he’d been coaching Roy in his law work. I call it perfectly splendid of John when he has so much to do.”
“It’s certainly kind of John,” said her mother, “I wish you’d told me so I could have thanked him. But I didn’t suppose Roy needed coaching. He’s working very hard; he’s sent just scraps of letters all winter and gives as his excuse that he’s too busy to write.”
“We’ve all got to begin thinking about what Roy will do after he’s graduated,” said Ethel. “I’ve talked to some of the lawyers who come into our office and they all say he’d better go into an office as clerk until he gets started. A young man can’t just hang out his shingle and expect business to come to him.”
“It’s too bad your father isn’t in a position to help Roy,” sighed Mrs. Durland.
“Why not let Roy make some suggestions himself about what he wants to do,” said Grace. “He’s got to learn self-reliance sometime. John Moore hadn’t anybody to boost him and he’s already found a place in one of the best offices in town.”
“But Roy’s case is very different,” replied Mrs. Durland, instantly on the defensive. “John’s older for one thing and the hard work he’s done to get his education naturally arouses sympathy. I want us all to make Roy feel our confidence in him. I’m getting anxious to have him home. He’s going to be a great comfort to me and it will be fine for you girls to have your brother back. You can both of you do a lot for him. And, Grace, he can help you solve many of your problems,—socially I mean.”
“I shall want Roy to know all my friends,” said Ethel. “Since I’ve been with Gregg and Burley I’ve made a good many acquaintances among men who are in a position to help Roy.”
“Roy’s fine social side is bound to be a help to him in his profession,” said Mrs. Durland. “He’s always been a friendly boy.”
“Yes, mother,” Grace replied. “Roy certainly has a way of making friends.”
She refrained from saying that these friends were not always wisely chosen. She dreaded the time when he would finish at the University and begin his efforts to establish a law practice. A good many young men of the best type of ambitious student had confided in her as to their plans for the future and she thought she knew pretty well the qualities essential to success. Roy was blessed with neither initiative nor industry, and she knew as her mother and Ethel did not, the happy-go-lucky fashion in which he had played through his college course, and his rebellion against undertaking the law. It was quite like him to lean upon John Moore. He must be doing badly or John would not have volunteered to aid him.
As they ate breakfast, with Mr. Durland dividing attention between his food and his newspaper, Mrs. Durland’s usual attempt to create an atmosphere of cheer for the day struck Grace as pathetic in its futility. Hearing her father’s voice she roused herself to find that her mother had asked him to look in the market reports for the quotations on turkeys. Christmas was approaching and Roy would be home; and Mrs. Durland was speculating as to whether a turkey for the Christmas dinner would be too serious a strain on the family budget. Durland shifted uneasily in his chair as his wife recalled that they had never been without a Christmas turkey since they were married. Grace noting the fleeting pain in her father’s patient eyes, hastened to say that beyond question the turkey would be forthcoming. It was a relief to be out of the house, walking to the car with her father who was laden as usual with his notebooks and drawings.