Cloudy Jewel (Romance Classic). Grace Livingston Hill
Julia Cloud could not see; she was safely over the bridge and out on the highway where she would not be likely to be followed, and the wine of the morning was rising in her veins. Such wonderful air, such clear blue sky and flying clouds! She felt like a flying cloud herself as she sped along in the great blue car with the chatter of the children in her ears and the silvery laughter of Leslie by her side. How could she help smiling and letting her cheeks grow pink and her eyes grow bright? Too soon after a funeral? The thought did come to her. But she knew by the thrill of her heart that her mother in heaven was gladder now than she had been for years of her bedridden life on earth, and, if she could look down to see, would no doubt be happy that some joy was coming to her hard-worked daughter at last. Julia would just enjoy this day and this delight to the full while it lasted. If it was not meant to last longer than the day, at least she would have this wonderful ride to remember always, this bird-like motion as if she were floating through a panorama! Not a thought of Ellen poking through her half-cleared house, finding unswept hearth and unmade beds and unwashed dishes, came to trouble her joy. It was as if the childhood of her life, long held in abeyance, had come back to her, and would not be denied.
Ellen and Mrs. Perkins in their inspection of the house came at last to the upper story and the guests’ room strewn with brushes bearing silver monograms and elaborate appointments of travel that kept them guessing their use and exclaiming in wonder and horror that any one would spend so much on little details. Leslie’s charming silk negligée and her frilly little nightgown with its lace and floating ribbons came in for a large amount of contempt, and it was some time before the good ladies arrived at Julia Cloud’s room and found the open telegram on her bureau that gave the key to the mystery of the two visitors.
“H’m!” said Ellen. “So that’s it! Well, I thought she had some bee in her bonnet. She must have written to them or they never would have come. Now, I suppose she means to keep them all winter, perhaps, and feed them, and baby them up; and, when she has spent all she has, she’ll come back on us. Well, she’ll find out she’s much mistaken; and, when she gets back, I’ll just tell her plainly that she can bundle up her company and send them home and come out to us now, to-day or to-morrow, or the offer is withdrawn, and she needn’t think she can fall back on Herbert, either, when she’s spent everything. Herbert is not a man to be put upon.”
“I should say not!” said Mrs. Perkins sympathetically, looking over her friend’s shoulder at the telegram. “So those were your brother’s two children! He must ’uv been pretty well off for them to have a car like that. I must say I think it’s a harm to children to be brought up wealthy.”
“Their mother was rich,” said Ellen sourly. It had always been a thorn in her flesh. “She was a snob, too, and her children’ll likely be the limit by this time. But Julia is such a fool!”
They sat in Julia Cloud’s parlor, one at each window, discussing the probabilities until half-past eleven. Then Ellen said she must go. She positively couldn’t wait another minute; but she would return, in the afternoon, and Mrs. Perkins must tell her sister that she was coming and wanted her to remain at home. That it was very important.
“I’ll settle her!” she said with her thin lips set in a hard line. Then she stooped to crank her Ford.
Mrs. Perkins watched her away, then hurried to her own neglected work; and ten minutes later the big blue car sailed noiselessly up to the place. It was not until the Perkins children discovered it and told their mother that she knew it had arrived. This was very annoying. She had wanted to catch them quite casually on their arrival, and now she would have to make a special errand over, and as likely as not have them not come to the door again. Besides, she was getting dinner, and things were likely to burn. Nevertheless, she dared not wait with that big blue car standing so capably at the door, ready to spirit them away again at any moment. She wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed a teacup for an excuse, and ran over to borrow that soda once more.
Peals of laughter were echoing through the old house when she knocked at the door, and a regular rush and scramble was going on, so unseemly just after a funeral! The door was on the latch, too, as if they did not care who heard; and to save her life she couldn’t help pushing it a little with her foot, just enough to see in. And there was Julia Cloud, her white hair awry, and her face rosy with mirth, an ear of corn in one hand and a knife in the other, being carried––yes, actually carried––across the dining-room in the arms of a tall young man and deposited firmly on the big old couch.
“There, Cloudy Jewel! You’ll lie right there and rest while Leslie and I get lunch. You’re all tired out; I can see it in your eyes; and we can’t afford to let you stay so. No, we don’t need any succotash for lunch or dinner, either. I know it’s good; but we haven’t time now, and we aren’t going to let you work,” announced the young man joyously as he towered above her lying quiescent and weak with laughter.
“No, nor you aren’t going to wash the dishes, either,” gurgled the young girl who danced behind the young man; “Allison and I will wash them all while you take a nap, and then we’re going to ride again.”
Julia Cloud, her eyes bright with the joy of all this loving playfulness, tried to protest; but suddenly into the midst of this tumult came Mrs. Perkins’s raucous assertion:
“H’m-m!”
The two young people whirled around alertly, and Julia Cloud sat up with a wild attempt to bring her hair into subjection as she recognized her neighbor. The color flooded into her sweet face, but she rose with gentle dignity.
“O Mrs. Perkins, we must have been making such a noise that we didn’t hear your knock,” she said.
As a matter of fact Mrs. Perkins hadn’t knocked. She had been led on by curiosity until she stood in the open dining-room door, rank disapproval written on her face.
“It did seem a good bit of noise for a house of mourning,” said Mrs. Perkins dryly.
Julia Cloud’s sweet eyes suddenly lost their smile, and she drew herself up ever so little. There was just a ripple of a quiver of her gentle lips, and she said quite quietly and with a dignity that could not help impressing her caller:
“This is not a house of mourning, Mrs. Perkins. I don’t think my dear mother would want us to mourn because she was released from a bed of pain where she had lain for nine long years, and gone to heaven where she could be young and free and happy. I’m glad for her, just as glad as I can be; and I know she would want me to be. But won’t you sit down? Mrs. Perkins, this is my niece and nephew, Leslie and Allison Cloud from California. I guess you remember them when they were little children. Or no; you hadn’t moved here yet when they were here–––”
Mrs. Perkins with pursed lips acknowledged the introduction distantly, one might almost say insolently, and turned her back on them as if they had been little children.
“Your sister’s been here all morning waiting for you!” she said accusingly. She gave a significant glance at the unwashed breakfast dishes, only part of which had been removed to the kitchen. “She couldn’t imagine where you’d gone at that hour an’ left your beds and your dishes.”
A wave of indignation swept over Julia Cloud’s sweet face.
“So you have been in my house during my absence!” she said quietly. “That seems strange since Ellen has no key!”
There was nothing in her voice to indicate rebuke, but Mrs. Perkins got very red.
“I s’pose your own sister has a right to get into the house where she was born,” she snapped.
“Oh, of course,” said Julia Cloud pleasantly. “And Ellen used to be a good climber before she got so fat. I suppose she climbed in the second-story window, although I hadn’t realized she could. However, it doesn’t matter. I suppose you have had to leave your dishes and beds once in a while when you were called away on business. You have a cup there; did you want to borrow something?”
Mrs. Perkins was one of those people who are never quite aware of it when they are in a corner; but she felt most uncomfortable, especially as she caught