The Road to Understanding Part 45

"Oh, I will. Don't worry," laughed the girl. "But, listen, don't you want me to go on with my story?"

"Yes--oh, yes!"

"Well, where was I? Oh, I know--just inside the library door. Very good, then. Ruthlessly suppressing my almost overwhelming longing to pounce on one of those alluring cabinets, I advanced properly and held out my note to Mr. Denby. As I came near I fancied that he, too, gave a slight start as he looked sharply into my face; and I thought I caught a real gleam of life in his eyes. The next instant it was gone, however (if indeed it had ever been there!), and he had taken my note and waved me politely to a chair."

"Yes, go on, go on!"

"Yes; well, do you know?--that's exactly what I felt like saying to him," laughed Betty softly. "He just glanced at the note with a low e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n; then he sat there staring at nothing for so long that I began to think I should scream from sheer nervousness. Then, perhaps I stirred a little. At all events, he turned with a start, and then is when I saw, for just a minute, how kind his eyes could be.

"'There, there, my child, I beg your pardon,' he cried. 'I quite forgot you were here. Something--your eyes, I think--set me to dreaming. Now to business! Perhaps you'll be good enough to take some letters for me.

You'll find pencils, pen, and paper there at your right.' And I did. And I began. And that's all."

"All! But surely there was more!"

"Not much. I took dictation in long hand for perhaps a dozen letters--most of them short ones. He said he was behind on his personal correspondence. Then he went away and left me. He goes down to his office at the Denby Iron Works every forenoon, I understand. Anyway, there I was, left in that fascinating room with all those cabinets full of treasures that I so longed to explore, but tied to a lot of scrawly notes and a typewriter. I forgot to say there was one of those disappearing typewriters in a desk over by the window. It wasn't quite like Gladys's, but the keyboard was, and I very soon got the run of it.

"At one o'clock he came back. I had the letters all done, and they looked lovely. I was rather proud of them. I pa.s.sed them over for him to sign, and waited expectantly for a nice little word of commendation--which I didn't get."

"Oh, but I'm sure he didn't--didn't realize that--that--"

"Oh, no, he didn't realize, of course, that this was my maiden effort at private secretarying," laughed Betty, a little ruefully, "and that I wanted to be patted on the head with a 'Well done, little girl!' He just shoved them back for me to fold and put in the envelopes; and just then Benton came to announce luncheon."

"But tell me about the luncheon."

"There isn't much to tell. There were just us three at the table, Mr.

Denby, Mrs. Gowing, and myself. There was plenty to eat, and it was very nice. But, dear, dear, the dreariness of it! With the soup Mrs. Gowing observed that it was a nice day. With the chicken patties she asked if I liked Dalton; and with the salad she remarked that we had had an unusually cold summer. Dessert was eaten in utter silence. Why, mother, I should die if I had to spend my life in an atmosphere like that!"

"But didn't Mr. Denby say--anything?"

"Oh, yes. He asked me for the salt, and he gave an order to Benton. Oh, he's such fascinating company--he is!"

At the disturbed expression on her mother's face, Betty gave a playful shrug. "Oh, I know, he's my respected employer, and all that," she laughed; "and I shall be very careful to do his bidding. Never fear! But that doesn't mean that I've got to love him."

Helen Denby flushed a painful red.

"But I wanted--I hoped you would--er--l-like him, my dear," she faltered.

"Maybe I shall--when I get him--er--trained," retorted Betty, flas.h.i.+ng a merry glance into her mother's dismayed eyes. "Don't worry, dear. I was a perfect angel to him to-day. Truly I was. Listen! After luncheon Mr.

Denby brought me three or four newspapers which he had marked here and there; and for an hour then I read to him. And what do you think?--when I had finished he said, in that crisp short way of his: 'You have a good voice, Miss Darling. I hope you won't mind if I ask you to read to me often.' And of course I smiled and said no, indeed, I should be glad to read as often as he liked."

"Of course!" beamed the mother, with so decided an emphasis that Betty exclaimed warningly:--

"Tut, tut, now! Don't _you_ go to tumbling down and wors.h.i.+ping him like all the rest."

"W-wors.h.i.+ping him!" Helen Denby's cheeks were scarlet.

"Yes," nodded Betty, with tranquil superiority. "It isn't good for him, I tell you. He doesn't get anything but wors.h.i.+p from every single one of those people around him. Honestly, if he should declare that the earth was flat, I think that ridiculous old butler and that scared cousin housekeeper would bow: 'Just as you say, sir, just as you say.' Humph!

He'd better tell _me_ the world is flat, some day."

"Oh, Betty! Betty!" implored Betty's mother.

But Betty only went on with a merry toss of her head:--

"Well, after the reading there were other letters, then some work on a card-index record of his correspondence. After that I came home. But, mother, oh, mother, only think what it'll be when we begin to catalogue all those treasures in his cabinets. And we're going to do it. He said we were. It seems as if I just couldn't wait!"

"But you will be careful what you say to him, dear," begged the mother again, anxiously. "He wouldn't understand your mischief, dear, and I--I'm sure he wouldn't like it."

Betty stooped to give a playful kiss.

"Careful? Why, mumsey, dear, when we get at those cabinets he may tell me a dozen times the earth is flat, if he wants to, and I won't so much as blink--if I think there's any danger of my getting cheated out of that cataloguing!"

CHAPTER XXII

ACTOR AND AUDIENCE

Helen did not go with her daughter to Denby House the second morning.

Betty insisted that she was quite capable of taking the short trip by herself and Helen seemed nothing loath to remain at home. Helen never seemed, indeed, loath to remain at home these days--especially during daylight. In the evening, frequently, she went out for a little walk with Betty. Then was when she did her simple marketing. Then, too, was the only time she would go out without the heavy black veil. Betty, being away all day, and at home only after five o'clock, did not notice all these points at first. As time pa.s.sed, however, she did wonder why her mother never would go out on Sunday. Still, Betty was too thoroughly absorbed in her own new experiences to pay much attention to anything else. Every morning at nine o'clock she left the house, eager for the day's work; and every afternoon, soon after five, she was back in the tiny home, answering her mother's hurried questions as to what had happened through the day.

"And you're so lovely and interested in every little thing!" she exclaimed to her mother one day.

"But I _am_ interested, my dear, in every little thing," came the quick answer. And Betty, looking at her mother's flushed face and trembling lips felt suddenly again the tightening at her throat--that her success or failure should mean so much to mother--dear mother who was trying so hard not to show how poor they were!

For perhaps a week Betty reported little change in the daily routine of her work. She wrote letters, read from books, magazines, or newspapers, worked on the card-index record of correspondence, and sorted papers, pamphlets, and circulars that had apparently been acc.u.mulating for weeks.

"But I'm getting along beautifully," she declared one day. "I've got Mrs. Gowing thawed so she actually says as many as three sentences to a course now. And you should see the beaming smile Benton gives me every morning!"

"And--Mr. Denby?" questioned her mother, with poorly concealed eagerness.

Betty lifted her brows and tossed her young head.

"Well, he's improving," she flashed mischievously. "He asked for the salt _and_ the pepper, yesterday. And to-day he actually observed that he thought it looked like snow--at the table, I mean. Of course he speaks to me about my work through the day; but he doesn't say any more than is necessary. Truly, mother, dear, I'd never leave my happy home for _him_."

"Oh, Betty, how can you say--such dreadful things!"

Betty laughed again mischievously.

"Don't worry, mumsey. He'll never ask me to do it! But, honestly, mother, I can't see any use in a man's being so stern and glum all the time."

"Does he really act so unhappy, then?"

At an unmistakable something in her mother's voice Betty looked up in surprise.

"Why, mother, that sounded exactly as if you were _glad_ he was unhappy!" she exclaimed.