THE JEWEL

Poverty Bay Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10848, 15 December 1906, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE JEWEL

They stood on the broad, shabby old porch looking out into the intense green of the horse-chestnuts with Sunday morning smiles at sight of the little group beneath. A pretty, blonde young woman was seated on the lawn giving an elementary lesson m botany, three small ngures being pressed close about her, breathing heavily with excitement over the mysteries oi a buttercup. "Lena seems to take to her job, all right, he commented, dropping into a porch chair, broad-armed and weatherneaten.

"1 can't make it out!" Mrs Chater' & voice was that of one puzzled to the verge of despair. "1 told her all over again that she would have to do regular nursemaid work and help about the house, and that we couldn't pay nursery-gover-ness wages, and that she is far above the place 'm every way, and she just kept on smiling her quiet Swedish smile and said, 'I should be glad to stay it madam will be suited.' What can it be? With the Jeffreys' references she toilld get a real lady situation any day. And here she is on our lawn, quietly taking the place of the late Hattie." "Is she infatuated with the kids?" Mr Chater spoke ironically, as a properly humorous parent must, but the glance thatr rested on the little white group below did not wholly deny the possibility. "Why, no. She is sweet and friendly, but 'not at all m love with them, so iar as I can see."

"Jferhaps it's me, then.' ' Mrs Chater laughed, the easy laugh of the thoroughly happy woman. "Of course, that would be the natural explanation, darling," she said with a hand on his shoulder, "but, you see, till today sbe has only seen you on the beach m your bathing-suit. And' you know, beautifulest " she hesitated with affectionate malice.

'Oh, I know!" He stretched his legs out m front of him and eyed them pessimistically. "God bless the man who invented long pants! Some men grow fat m marriage, he added meaningly, taking up his paper} "others don't. Strange. 1 '

She laughed again, seating herself on the broad arm of his chair. He spread the paper out that she might share it, and they read silently for a few moments, her chin resting on his head. .Some vague uneasiness, or perhaps the cessation of the' gentle voice on the lawn beneath, presently made her glance up. The new nurse had risen to her feet, and her eyes were turned to the two on the porch with a quiet, deliberate scrutiny before which Mrs Chater instinctively drew away from her husband. "Why does she stare like that?" was her wondering thought; but a moment later Lena was actively helping Corinne to achieve her great ambition of a backward somersault, and Corinne's mother decided that she had exaggerated. She settled heiself contentedly iv the other porrh chair, and, before opening her book, let her eyes rest for a moment on her companion. Thin and angular, his hair stifHy red, not one of his features had the right to existence from an artistic standpoint; and yet she would not have had him changed by so much as one freckle. The curve of her lips deepened warmly. Glancing up, he caught her look before she could subdue it to the ironical challenge of every day. His lean face wrinkled into an answering smile.

"Have a cushion, old girl," he said, throwing her the one from his own elbow.

"You are rather nice, Henry," she admitted. "I dou't mind having you round at all.'

"You'll turn my head," said Henry. "Well, no matter, so long as it's turned toward me." Then a thought made her glance toward the lawn. Ihe same still, listening stare met her. "Lena, you might take the children for a walk," she said abruptly. "I liked having them there," objected her husband as the little flock disappeared. "Oh, well, they ought to take a walk,' was the vague answer. Lena, the Jeffrey's Lena, had been iX> Mrs Chater that summer one of the salient reasons why wealth" would be desirable. Her grace and refinement, her tact and good sense with the little Jeffrey boys had made the kindly but coarse-fibred Hattie seem a definite wrong to the three babies she tended and lied to, after the manner of her kind, Vv hen. the little Jeffreys were promoted to a tutor Mrs Chater thought envingly of the next plutocrat that would snap up thiß nursery jewel. And then, without inducement or explanation, the jewel had quietly added herself, at nursemaid wages, to the unadorned Chater nursery. It was too good to be true. Mrs Chater was more upset by it than she had been by Hattie's abrupt departure a few days before.

Lena had the broad cheek bones and pale eyes of her race, but a cloud of nabyish blond hair and a soft, even pallov, relieved only by the red line of her lips, gave her i* delicate prettiness. Her manner was that of simplicity and sweetness ; humour seemed to be her only lack. It was impossible to let this lady-like creature dine m the kitchen with Maggie ; yet she could scarcely share the childrens' bread-and-milk at five, and separate meals were difficult m their plain menage. "So I have told her to dine with us, Henry," Mrs Chater explained Monday evening as they paced up and down the porch together, awaiting dinner. "Shu seemed surprisingly pleased — ns c rule she is too respectful to show any feelingß. ' "How is she getting on with the kids?"

"Angelically. And she got lunch beautifully to-day while Maggie washed. I hated to have her. Why do you suppose she came?" Her husband was not disposed to worry about it. "Well, she's here,' he said. "Coire into the light ; I've got tomething to talk over with you.' "The mine!" sho asked quickly.

He nodded. A small, battered map, much marked with red aud blue pencil, was spread out under the lamp, aud they bent over it together. His arm was across her shoulders, but their talk was. that of business partners — her under standing of the situation was. as clear at his own. She did some rapid figuring at his dictation, and they smiled excitedly at each other.

"And m another week, if old Stocktun duetm't die or blow up, we'll have it iii) m our own hands," he concluded, folding up the map. "It's great, the way you understand things, You ha .c a head my dear ! If there were more women like you, by George" — she wat beaming frankly at his praise — "I'd take to polygamy !" he finished unexpectedly. iVJro Chater wound; a swifi and dexterious finger into his red locks, but as swiftly withdrew it, stiffening into dignity : m the unlighted hall, just withoiit the door, Blood Lentv, gravely iutcnt on them. She might have been standing there indefinitely. "Why don't you come m, Lena?" sho asked. "Madam is very kind," was the gentlo answer. Lena had the gift of being unobtrusive without appearing m the least ill at ease. Mrs Chater could have almost forgotten her presence at the dinner table if she had not bee i haunte J by a persistent consciousness of scrutiny. Lena uiissnd no word thil passed between her and her husband. "What is the girl after?" she demanded irritably of herself ; then the thought of the three babies and the late Hattie reduced her to apology. Nursery jewels were not to be visited with irritation. 11. All that week the little household ran to perfection uuder Lena's trained and willing services. Henry was away for seveial days, and Mrs Chater wrote him wondering'y of their good fortune. "It is like Tolstoi's story of the angel who * came to help the shoemaker," she said m one of her long; daily letters. Some one called her away before she had' finished, and she left the closely written sheets lying open. When she returned, fifteen minutes later, Lena was just turning away from the desk. "Has madam seen Robin's ball anywhere?" she asked with her smile of gpiitin deference. "He thinks he left it Hi hove." The ball, suh: enough, was found on tli» comh, and Lena departed with itMrs Chater looked sharply at her letter. The sheets seemed to be lying at v slightly different angle on the desk, and there was the least possible smudge m the sentence she had left unfinished.

.She read the letter through, frowning thoughtfully. "If we were people with anything to hide !" she puzzled. "Unless, perhaps, the mine " Her thoughts led her into tangled conjectures. No doubt, if Jeffrey or any other big financier knew what they, had got hold of, ho might try to cut them" out. But the couucction

was too fantastic. She gave it up with a shrug. Henry came home Saturday afternoon, Hot, tired, and depressed. Mrs Chater greeted him with lemonade and no questions. She had been jojously reminding the children all day that daddy was coming, but, after a keen glance at his face, she cut short their frenzied welcome and packed them on to the garden, leaving him to himself and the bath-tub. Lena found her sitting on the stairs near his door, half an hour later, and paused iv amazement.

"Madam is not ill?" shy? asked. Mrs Chater laughed. "Oh, no. But Mr Chater came hone very tired, Lena, and I — l'm trying to let }iim alone," she finished with humorous frankness. Lena's deference seemed to be struggling with some eager question, but the door opened at that moment and she passed on to the sewing room, Henry looked refreshed, thoiujh serious.

"Come m here, clearest," he said, and shut the door after her. Her question could not be kept back any longer. "Is it all right?" "I don't know whether i( is or not," he began. "Everything was booming until this noon, when we were to meet old Stockton and pay over the money for the mine. He didn't show up."

"Wasn't there some mistake?" Mrs Chater suggested. "Don't know. We telephoned all over town, but couldn't find him. We finally had to give him up for to-night; 1 am going back first thing m the morning. " She shook her head dubiously. "It looks as though some orw else had got hold of him,' she said.

"But nobody knew about him, confound it. I'll find him if I have to tall m the police. Meanwhile, where shall we put this for the night?" He took from his bag n formidable bundle of bank-notes and let them fall on the table with a thud. "The old man didn't want a cheque, so we had the money all ready for him." She felt the wad with respectful fingers. "I hate to have it m the house. Couldn't you wear it?"

'x'vo bulky. I guess the tin box m the closet is the best plate." He rose and stretched, then let his long arms drop on her shoulders. "Now, shall we visit the babies?" he added, a few moments later.

"Put the money away first," she re minded him, turning to the mirror. In front of it, with her hands raised to hei hair, she suddenly became stricken tc immobility. The balcony that passed hci window also passed (hat of the sewing room next door ; it was natural, perhaps, that Lena should take her sewing and her little chair out there, whence she might have an eye on the children. Bin" was it natural that they had not heard her go out, or that she should seat herself within three feet of their open window \ Mrs Chater beckoned Henry and pointed silently to the reflection m the glass. "But, my dear, why not " he demand ed, so amazed at her unspoken suspicion that she felt half-convicted of absurdity. Certainly Lena did look the picture of placid haimlessness. "But do put the money somewhere else," she whispered. "Oh, nonsense, he protested. "Come on down."

She loked back uneasily, but Lena had gone as quietly as she had tome, and a moment later her sweet voice could be heard outside calling the children.

They came m clinging to her hands, brimming with experiences to tell her. They implored her to share their bread-and-milk, and shouted with joy when she consented.

"Madam will excuse me from dinner to-night," she said with a pretty smile, as she set a place for heiself at the nursery table. She kept her little flock gay yet orderly. Surely it was ridiculous to have dark thought about this sweet and simple creature — to wonder if she could have a reason for wanting to stay upstairs that night. Mrs Chater was ashamed to say anything more then, but the money lay on her spirits like a cold weight during dinner—she found herself listening intently for steps overhead. At last she gave m, begging Henry to put it m some other place; and they nearly quarreled over the question.

"I believe m carefulness, but not m foolish caution," he enunciated, lighting his cigar; the day's anxieties had left their traces.

"And you evidently don't believe m sparing me needless worry, she said sharply, and left him to smoke by himself.

After fifteen minutes she came back and smiled at him ruefully. "Henry, I was cross," she .admitted. "fcou were, my beloved." "I've come this far to say 1 lepeut my evil temper." "And I'm to conic the rest of the way ? '

"Well, what do you think?" I "I think you are a noble character, tfie laughed as Ire kissed her.

"Our rows never last long, do they?" j>he said contentedly. "No, thank goodness," he admitted. "And now I don't mind admitting to you, my dear " He broke off as a step sounded on the porch. "It's the drug store boy," she commented. "You must be wanted on the telephone." 111. Mr Chater huried off, and his wife was turning into the sitting room when he seemed to hear a light step and the rustle of a skirt m the hall above. "Lena, aid you there?" she asked quickly. There was no answer, so evidently she had been mistaken ; she tried to be sensible about it. Then she ran swiftly tip-stairs. No one was there, but, m a panic of nervousness, she went to* her room, lit all the lights, and closed the blinds. Then finding her pass-key to the tin box, she opened it. So great had been the sudden chill of apprehension that for a moment she felt no shock at finding the money gone. It was as though she had known it all the evening. Se turned over, m a perfunctory fashion, the few papers the bos contained, then sat staring blindly ahead of her while the numbness gradually gave way to terror There was a tap at the door. Lena stood, respectfully smiling. "Hae madam any objection to my going out this even ing?" Mrs Chater' s scattered faculties seemed to snap into their places as she rose from her knees.

"Come m, Lena; I wish to tal'- to you," she said quietly, and put herself between the girl and the door. She had meant to wait for Henry ; but shi> could not stand it. "Lena, there was a great deal of money m that box just before dinner, and now it is gone." Her voice was grave, but not unkind. Lena looked frightened. "It has been taken out?"

"Naturally. And no one knew it was here but my husband— and you." The color rose faintly m the girl's face; her eyes grew wide and bewildered.

"I, madam?" she whispered. "You were on the porch by that window when we decided where to put it. Weren't you?" she added with a touch of sharpness. "Yes, madam. "

"Ah, Lena, how could you?" There were tears m Mrs dialer's eyes. "Madam believes I took it?" The wondering, wounded tone moved Mrs Chater to anger. "What else can I think?" she was beginning when Henrys voice called to her jubilantly from below. His news preceded him as he mounted. "The old man's all right, dear ! He had a small knock-down and was taken to a hospital, but he s out again and keen for his bargain. So the mine "he paused m the doorway. "What's up?" he demanded as his eyes fell on the two pale women.

"The money is gone out of the box V] "Oh, by George !" He laughed ruefully. "I changed it to the desk, d«ar, to make your easier. I was just about to confess my weak-mindedness when the boy came. I'm so sorry " Mrs Chater turned swiftly on Lena. "Well, then, you didn't take it, and I apologise," sh*e said hotly; "biit why have you been creeping about spying and listening! What are you trying to find out? I have seen you again and again, watching us like a cat. Why have you done that, what have you been after, if you arc an honest girl 7" Lena had grown very white. Sl»o smiled piteously. "1 will tell madam the whole truth. It is perhaps very foolish." She looked down, twisting her fingers tightly together. "1 am to be married very 'soon, to a countryman of my own. 'i have been troubled, for, madam, so many marriages m my country are not happy": I have learned that since I came to America and saw how your marriages wer.e — so friendly, so gay, so kind. And as I watflied madam and Mr Chat-cr on the beach, it seemed to me that this marriage was the most beautiful of all ; and I said m my heart, I will go to them and learn what is the secret."

Her voice broke, but she steadied it and went on :

"It was easy to persuade Hattie to go away for a short time. I have done no wrong except to listen, and once to read a page of a letter — madam must forgive that, for I did so want to understand ! And I have learned much." Her voice grew suddenly brave. "I have learned that a wife must remember every day all that is good and beautiful m her man and must keep her heart open to him — yet always a little hidden ; that she must know his work so that he may talk to her as a comrade, and yet leave him alone when he is not ready to talk ; that when she has scolded she must come back quickly and say, 'I am sorry' — but say it with laughing. No tears, no grievances; always the little laughing, the little game, the pretended scorn — perhaps we cannot do that m our country. But I have learned much, and I am grateful,. even though madam thinks me a thief.

"You dear, dear soul!" It was more sob than laugh, and Mrs Clutter's hands were on Lena's shoulders Mr Chater slipped away with the furtive air of one who finds himself not wanted.

Two weeks later the Chaters stood on the steps waving while the children threw rice after the departing bride and bridegroom.

"Mow come m out of the road or the policeman will get you," said Hattie.

Mrs Chater turned to her husband with a worried, quizzical smile.

"We have lost a jewel," she said "And yet "

"Vet ?" he encouraged her with a comprehending twinkle.

"Well, if we had been obliged to be the model married couple for one day longer, do you know what would have probably hrppened?" "I do. 1 should have struck you," ssi id Henry. "I am not going to be kind or loving for six weeks." They laughed happily, and turned into the house, where he belied his words by drawing her to him. "They've been all. for Lena lately," he said.' "but here's one for yourself, old girl !" Juliet Wilbor Tompkins, m Mimsey's.