Her Father's Daughter. Stratton-Porter Gene
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In less than an hour, Linda was in the kitchen, dressed in an old green skirt and an orange blouse. Katy pinned one of her aprons on the girl and told her that her first job was to set the table.
“And Miss Eileen has given most particular orders that I use the very best of everything. Lay the table for four, and you are to be extremely careful in serving not to spill the soup.”
Linda stood very quietly for a second, her heavy black brows drawn together in deep thought.
“When did Eileen issue these instructions?” she inquired.
“Not five minutes ago,” said Katy. “She just left me kitchen and I'll say I never saw her lookin' such a perfect picture. That new dress of hers is the most becoming one she has ever had.”
Almost unconsciously, Linda's hand reached to the front of her well-worn blouse, and she glanced downward at her skirt and shoes.
“Um-hm,” she said meditatively, “another new dress for Eileen, which means that I will get nothing until next month's allowance comes in, if I do then. The table set for four, which, interpreted, signifies that she has asked Marian in such a way that Marian won't come. And the caution as to care with the soup means that I am to serve my father's table like a paid waitress. Katy, I have run for over three years on Eileen's schedule, but this past year I am beginning to use my brains and I am reaching the place of self-assertion. That programme won't do, Katy. It's got to be completely revised. You just watch me and see how I follow those instructions.”
Then Linda marched out of the kitchen door and started across the lawn in the direction of a big brown house dimly outlined through widely spreading branches of ancient live oaks, palm, and bamboo thickets. She entered the house without knocking and in the hall uttered a low penetrating whistle. It was instantly answered from upstairs. Linda began climbing, and met Marian at the top.
“Why, Marian,” she cried, “I had no idea you were so far along. The house is actually empty.”
“Practically everything went yesterday,” answered Marian. “Those things of Father's and Mother's and my own that I wish to keep I have put in storage, and the remainder went to James's Auction Rooms. The house is sold, and I am leaving in the morning.”
“Then that explains,” questioned Linda, “why you refused Eileen's invitation to dinner tonight?”
“On the contrary,” answered Marian, “an invitation to dinner tonight would be particularly and peculiarly acceptable to me, since the kitchen is barren as the remainder of the house, and I was intending to slip over when your room was lighted to ask if I might spend the night with you.”
Linda suddenly gathered her friend in her arms and held her tight.
“Well, thank heaven that you felt sufficiently sure of me to come to me when you needed me. Of course you shall spend the night with me; and I must have been mistaken in thinking Eileen had been here. She probably will come any minute. There are guests for the night. John is bringing that writer friend of his. Of course you know about him. It's Peter Morrison.”
Marian nodded her head. “Of course! John has always talked of him. He had some extremely clever articles in The Post lately.”
“Well, he is one,” said Linda, “and an architect who is touring with him is two; they are looking for a location to build a house for the writer. You can see that it would be a particularly attractive feather in our cap if he would endorse our valley sufficiently to home in it. So Eileen has invited them to sample our brand of entertainment, and in the morning no doubt she will be delighted to accompany them and show them all the beautiful spots not yet preempted.”
“Oh, heavens,” cried Marian, “I'm glad I never showed her my spot!”
“Well, if you are particular about wanting a certain place I sincerely hope you did not,” said Linda.
“I am sure I never did,” answered Marian. “I so love one spot that I have been most secretive about it. I am certain I never went further than to say there was a place on which I would love to build for myself the house of my dreams. I have just about finished getting that home on paper, and I truly have high hopes that I may stand at least a fair chance of winning with it the prize Nicholson and Snow are offering. That is one of the reasons why I am hurrying on my way to San Francisco much sooner than I had expected to go. I haven't a suitable dinner dress because my trunks have gone, but among such old friends it won't matter. I have one fussy blouse in my bag, and I'll be over as soon as I can see to closing up the house and dressing.”
Linda hurried home, and going to the dining room, she laid the table for six in a deft and artistic manner. She filled a basket with beautiful flowers of her own growing for a centerpiece, and carefully followed Eileen's instruction to use the best of everything. When she had finished she went to the kitchen.
“Katy,” she said, “take a look at my handiwork.”
“It's just lovely,” said Katy heartily.
“I quite agree with you,” answered Linda, “and now in pursuance of a recently arrived at decision, I have resigned, vamoosed, quit, dead stopped being waitress for Eileen. I was seventeen my last birthday. Hereafter when there are guests I sit at my father's table, and you will have to do the best you can with serving, Katy.”
“And it's just exactly right ye are,” said Katy. “I'll do my best, and if that's not good enough, Miss Eileen knows what she can do.”
“Now listen to you,” laughed Linda. “Katy, you couldn't be driven to leave me, by anything on this earth that Eileen could do; you know you couldn't.”
Katy chuckled quietly. “Sure, I wouldn't be leaving ye, lambie,” she said. “We'll get everything ready, and I can serve I six as nicely as anyone. But you're not forgetting that Miss Eileen said most explicit to lay the table for FOUR?'
“I am not forgetting,” said Linda. “For Eileen's sake I am I sorry to say that her ship is on the shoals. She is not going to have clear sailing with little sister Linda any longer. This is the year of woman's rights, you know, Katy, and I am beginning to realize that my rights have been badly infringed upon for lo these many years. If Eileen chooses to make a scene before guests, that is strictly up to Eileen. Now what is it you want me to do?”
Katy directed and Linda worked swiftly. Soon they heard a motor stop, and laughing voices told them that the guests had arrived.
“Now I wonder,” said Linda, “whether Marian is here yet.”
At that minute Marian appeared at the kitchen door.
“Linda,” she said breathlessly, “I am feeling queer about this. Eileen hasn't been over.”
“Oh, that's all right,” said Linda casually. “The folks have come, and she was only waiting to make them a bit at home before she ran after you.”
Marian hesitated.
“She was not allowing me much time to dress.”
“That's 'cause she knew you did not need it,” retorted Linda. “The more you fuss up, the less handsome you are, and you never owned anything in your life so becoming as that old red blouse. So farewell, Katy, we're due to burst into high society tonight. We're going to help Eileen vamp a lawyer, and an author, and an architect, one apiece. Which do you prefer, Marian?”
“I'll take the architect,” said Marian. “We should have something in common since I am going to be a great architect myself one of these days.”
“Why, that is too bad,” said Linda. “I'll have to rearrange the table if you insist, because I took him, and left you the author, and it was for love of you I did it. I truly wanted him myself, all the time.”
They stopped in the dining room and Marian praised Linda's work in laying the table; and then,