Chapter Twenty-four.

Loving "Are you still lonely?" Felicity asked Jennifer as they prepared for bed. When Jennifer failed to answer, Felicity responded to her own question with sisterly insight. "Me too."

Then the room was quiet again.

"It is nice toa"to make Grandfather so happy," Felicity said.

Jennifer nodded and went on brushing her long hair.

The girls had settled into the new household quickly, at least by outward appearances. It hadn't been much different from their own, though Grandfather's larger house was more impressive and formal than their home in the mountains.

School was exciting. The girls were relieved to learn they were not far behind in their studiesa"and were every bit as refined and mannerly as their city peers.

But in spite of their doting grandfather's warm welcome, the acceptance of the other girls, and the shopping trips and entertainment, the empty feeling remained. They missed their parents. They missed home.

Felicity picked up her brush and swept it casually through her hair. "You know what I've decided?" she asked Jennifer.

Jennifer shook her head, afraid to trust her voice.

"I've decided to get married."

Jennifer's hand stopped in mid-stroke. She gave her twin a quizzical look. "You're not serious."

"I am serious. The only way to solve Mama and Papa's money problems is for one of us to marry a wealthy man. Since I don't suppose you willa"I will."

"That's foolish talk," said Jennifer, no longer concerned. The idea was too preposterous to even consider.

"It's not foolish," Felicity shot back with a toss of her head.

"And where will you find this wealthy man?" asked Jennifer. "We go to a girls' school. We go straight to church and home again. Grandfather entertains people his own age. Where do you expect to meet anyone?"

"I'll manage it. Just wait."

Jennifer was unconvinced. "By the time men are wealthy, they are also olda"and already married."

Felicity considered the comment. "There are young onesa"who inherit," she insisted.

"Well, you certainly don't know any."

"I will. You'll see."

Jennifer laid aside her brush and went to turn down her bed. "Well," she flung at her twin, "if you find a young mana"wealthy, a Christian, willing to marry you, and Mama and Papa decide you are old enough to marrya"then you will have my blessing."

Felicity flipped back her long hair. "What makes you think I need your blessing?" she snorted. "I am doing this to save Mama and Papa and you talk likea""

"Mama and Papa do not need *saving.' "

"Well, they needa"need somethinga"or we wouldn't be here while they are there," said Felicity, nearly in tears.

Jennifer felt like crying too. Loneliness crowded out her courage, making her feel deserted and desperate. "Let's not fight," she pleaded. She knew she could not stop her tears if she tried to say more.

Felicity turned her back. She did not want Jennifer to see how difficult it was to hold her own tears in check.

"You don't think it's a good idea?" Felicity finally managed to ask.

"No. And I don't think Mama and Papa would either. You are much too young even to be thinking of marriage."

"Other girls marry at our age."

"Other girls have not given it proper consideration."

"Then what can we do?" asked Felicity.

"Pray," Jennifer replied. "Just pray. And while we are at ita"we must pray for Grandfather. Even though he's been taking us to church, I don't think he is aa"a real believer."

Felicity had the same fear. "He's sweet, though, isn't he?"

Jennifer wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her white nightgown.

"He's very sweet," she agreed, then added, "and he must miss Mama something awful."

John pushed his chair away from the table in the cook shack and turned to leave for his own sleeping quarters. He shared the stark, simple shack with five other men. It was not the kind of arrangement he enjoyed.

It was noisy, crowded, and often filled with smoke. Although he was determined to endure the inconvenience, to live with the simplicity, and to forego his need for privacy, he continually longed for Julia.

John slowly strolled the short distance from the eating area to the shack. He wanted time to thinka"to pray. It was nearly impossible to pray with the raucous laughter, coa.r.s.e jokes, and smoke-filled air pressing in on him. He stepped off the beaten path and lowered himself onto a fallen log. The night sky was clear, and stars were beginning to appear. John was weary. It had been a long, hard day of heavy work in the woods. He was a cutter now, not an overseer. Mr. Small had told him that would soon change, but for now John was working alongside the other men on the cutting crew. Actually, he figured the hard labor was good for him. The physical exhaustion kept him from thinking too many painful thoughts and made it easy for him to sleep at night despite his many concerns. And of course he was glad to have a paycheck coming regularly.

John turned his face toward heaven as his chest tightened with loneliness. Jule. The girls. Even the familiarity of his small town. He missed it all very much.

"G.o.d," he whispered into the darkening night, "I'm glad I didn't need to leave you behind too."

He sat silently, unable to go on. Even his prayers were painful. He watched the moon rise over the nearby pines. A cloud covered it for a moment. Then it reappeared, bigger and brighter than before. In the forest a wolf howled and another responded. They were on the hunt. They needed to survive. John felt a kinship with the wolves. He too was fighting for survival. For himselfa"but mostly for Jule. For the girls. He had to survivea"for them.

Julia placed a late summer rose in a small vase on the breakfast tray she had prepared for Miss Priscilla. Constance had gone for a walk down one of the numerous wooded paths. Julia had a.s.sured the girl that her sister would be fine. Julia was quite able and willing to care for Priscilla's needs. Constance had looked relieveda"anxious for a few moments alone. Priscilla was getting increasingly restless and difficult.

"I think a short walk would be good for Miss Priscilla too," Julia suggested.

"So do I," responded Constance with a weary sigh, "but she absolutely refuses."

Julia said no more. She had tried everything she could think of to make Miss Priscilla feel more comfortablea"more contenta"more loved. But Miss Prissy was not an easy person to love. Determined to show her love no matter how difficult the task, Julia prayed more fervently for the strength to do so.

Julia lifted the tray. She did not look forward to the trip to Miss Priscilla's room. Along with the tray she carried another letter from Mrs. Blakeney. The woman had not made a single visit to see her daughters. Constance had told Julia that each letter from their mother apologized, but explained that she was too busy to come.

"That's the way it has always been with Mama," Constance said with little emotion. "We have long since become accustomed to it."

But Miss Priscilla did not seem used to it. She chafed and fussed and made life miserable for everyone whenever another promise was broken.

Julia rapped softly on the door.

"Yes," called Miss Priscilla, and Julia opened the door and walked in.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully. "Did youa"?"

"Just set it down!" snapped Miss Priscilla. "I am famished. Where is Constance? She should have been here with the tray hours ago."

Julia let the words pa.s.s. She knew Miss Priscilla had awakened only a few minutes earlier. She and Hettie had been checking the room regularly.

"You have another letter," Julia said.

"From Mama?" Miss Priscilla brightened for a moment, and then turned glum. "I suppose she will tell me all about her most recent parties. I hate it. I hate hearing about all I am missing."

"You must like parties," Julia said as she poured coffee.

"I don't suppose you understand either. Constance never did. She just sat at home and read her old booksa"or worked in the flower beds or went to Ladies' Aid or something. Just likea"like an old spinster."

Miss Priscilla spat out the last word. Julia guessed that spinster must be the most disagreeable term the girl could think of.

There were many things Julia wished to say in response but she held her tongue. "She seems happy," was all she said.

Miss Priscilla ignored the comment. She ripped open the envelope bearing her mother's letter and started to read. Her face suddenly brightened. "She's coming!" she cried. "She has her ticket. She is due on Thursday. That's tomorrow."

It was the first time Julia had ever seen the girl exciteda"rejoicinga"over anything.

"We must wash and set your hair," Julia urged. Miss Priscilla had recently been refusing proper grooming. "Go ahead and eat your breakfast. I will come back and do it for you," Julia promised.

While working on Priscilla's hair, Julia encouraged her to come to the downstairs drawing room to greet her mother and have tea when she arrived.

"She won't do it," Constance warned later. "That would spoil the effect. She wants Mother to feel guilty for leaving her here alonea"in her conditiona"and all that."

Mrs. Blakeney arrived the next day as promised. Right up until train time, Julia expected to receive some last-minute excuse. She was sure some social engagement would keep the woman away.

But she arrived. Bag and baggage. Julia heard her coming long before Tom opened the door for her.

Constance had been right. Priscilla refused to greet her mother in the parlor. Mrs. Blakeney went straight to Miss Priscilla's room. When Julia took up the tea tray, Miss Priscilla was sprawled on her bed, her hair a tangled mess around her pale face, and her eyes drained of all excitement or eagerness. She moaned each time she shifted position and fretted and scolded until Julia wanted to shake her.

"My poor baby," soothed Mrs. Blakeney, smoothing the girl's hair. "Constancea"I trusted you to take better care of your sister. Look at her. Her nails look like they haven't been attended to in weeks anda""

Julia set down the tray and quickly left the room. She grabbed a shawl on her way through the kitchen and headed to the garden. "I wisha"I wish there were potatoes to diga"or carrots to pulla"or something!" she hissed. "I need to work off some steam."

But the garden had all been cared for by Tom. Winter was approaching. Julia's thoughts turned from the spoiled Miss Priscilla to her own dear daughters and the long winter without them.

Mrs. Blakeney stayed for only a few days. Julia wondered if she found her daughter too disagreeable to endure. Before she left she purchased a porcelain pitcher and bowl and a small gilt-edged mirror from Julia. Julia didn't allow herself the pleasure of tears as she tucked the generous payment into the safe-keeping box in John's desk drawer. They needed the money. They could live without treasures.

Another month pa.s.sed and Julia had another guest. His name was Dr. Martin Waters, and he came from some spot unknown to any of them. Mrs. Blakeney had hired him to be on guard until Miss Priscilla's baby came, to deliver the infant, and then to leave discreetly. This information came out little by little, for he had been given strict orders to keep silent about his mission.

Dr. Waters was very aware of his own presence, and he made certain that others were too. He wore flashy clothes, twitched his carefully trimmed mustache, and cast furtive glances as though fearful someone were following him. His steel blue eyes flashed impatience with the least provocation, and Julia sensed that he was very short-tempered.

Julia felt uncomfortable around him, but there was little she could do. Although difficult to endure, he was a paying guest.

Miss Priscilla seemed to like the idea of having a little male company, and she began ordering Constance to brush her hair and manicure her nails again. Dr. Waters, a man of about forty, was not without a measure of masculine appeal, and his silence and manner made him mysterious and intriguing.

Miss Priscilla may as well have saved herself the trouble, however. The doctor seemed to be interested in nothing except his feea"which likely would be sizable.

Dr. Waters kept mostly to himself and ignored the majority of Miss Priscilla's moans and groans and cries of complaint. He did care for her solicitously, however, handing out little pink or white pills with abandon. Julia feared for the unborn child, but dared not be too open with her comments.

"I just hope this whole ordeal is over quickly," she confided to Hettie. "It seems that our efforts to show love and understanding have been in vain. Miss Priscilla has not softened one bit. In fact, I fear she is even more disagreeable than ever. I don't know how poor Constance stands it."

"I think she has had years of practice," responded Hettie. "It's a clear case of the older, rational, responsible sister needing to care for the younger, spoiled, irresponsible one."

Julia felt that Hettie had summed up the situation well.

Julia did not get her wish for quick release from their circ.u.mstance. Miss Priscilla, in spite of her great impatience, failed to deliver on time. The days dragged by and everyone in the house became tense and edgy. Miss Priscilla fussed and scolded, screaming at anyone who entered her room and at anyone who did not come when she called.

Julia found it more and more difficult to keep her promise. The young woman was nearly impossible to love.

Chapter Twenty-five.

Delivery A sharp rap on the bedroom door awakened Julia. Then she heard a voice. "Mrs. Harrigan. Mrs. Harrigan. It's time. It's time."

Julia could make no sense of the wordsa"or their urgency. She sat up in bed trying to get her bearings, trying to figure out who was calling and why.

"Mrs. Harrigan," the voice came again, sounding desperate. "Please come. Please hurry. It's time."

"It's Constance," Julia said. Then reality flooded over her. The baby. It must be Priscilla and the baby.

Julia arose swiftly and s.n.a.t.c.hed a robe from the wardrobe. The generator had been turned off so they had no electricity. Julia didn't take time to light a lamp. She hastened to the door, tying the robe as she went.

Constance was about to rap again when Julia jerked the door open. "It's time," Constance said again, her hand still in midair.

"Does the doctor need anything?" asked Julia.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Constance, "I didn't think to call him." She turned and hurried down the hall toward the doctor's room.

His bedroom door opened before Constance reached it, and the man came out. He looked disgruntled to have his sleep disturbeda"but Julia was thankful to see that he was prepared to take charge. His sleeves were rolled up and he carried his official-looking black bag.