All Through the Night (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill

      CHAPTER I

       Table of Contents

      Dale Huntley finished labeling and tying the last of the packages. The expressman had promised to call for them before ten o'clock. Dale gave a quick glance at the clock, and finding it was only half past nine, she sat back with a sigh of relief and closed her eyes for just a second.

      It had been a hard time, and she had not stopped for a moment to think of herself or her own feelings. But now, were all the little nagging duties accomplished that Grandmother had left for her to do before the relatives should arrive? With her eyes still closed, she went swiftly down the list that was sharp in her mind.

      Put all personal gifts, jewelry, heirlooms, private letters in the safe-deposit box in the bank. That had been done last week while Grandmother was still alive and alert to all that was going on around her, intent on leaving her world all in order for her going, interested in each item as if it were a game she was playing.

      "You know," she told Dale with one of her old-time twinkles that gave her such an endearing look, "those cousins of yours that have been anything but cousinly in their actions are liable to turn up as soon as they hear that I am gone, and they'll do their best to search out anything that could possibly be interesting to them and make your life miserable if they think you want it, so it is best not to have anything around to make trouble for you."

      Grandmother was always so thoughtful for everybody.

      But she must not think about that now. This was going to be a hard day, and she would not be able to get through it if she gave way to tears at this stage. At any moment those relatives might arrive—the telegram had said Tuesday—and she must not have traces of tears on her face. Oh, of course, tears were natural when one had lost a dear one, but she was in a position where she must be more than just another relative. She must carry out Grandmother's plans. She must meet the cousins quietly and with some measure of poise. That would be the only way to offset any arrogance and desire to manage, on their part.

      Dale had not seen these relatives for years. Not since she was a small child, too young to be noticed by them. Young enough to be calmly swept aside for the pretty, spoiled cousin, Corliss, who had to have everything her little heart desired, even if it upset everybody else in the house. Corliss had taken great delight in making Dale the butt of all her tantrums. It was natural, therefore, that Dale did not look forward to the reunion with pleasure. Still, she told herself, perhaps she was not being fair in feeling this way. After all, it was a good many years ago, and Corliss had been only a baby then, some months younger than herself. There was a good chance that through the years Corliss might have changed and would perhaps be a charming young woman by this time; it might even be quite possible that they could be friends. Though from Grandmother's description of her when she last saw her, Dale did not think so. Grandmother had at times given little word-sketches of her grandniece, witty and sarcastic but altogether good-natured. However, those sketches were clearly given in the way of warning, so Dale would not be taken unawares and thereby lose out.

      It was for that reason that Dale was dreading the arrival of these unknown relatives and had carried out the little details of Grandmother's plans most meticulously, schooling herself to a calmness that she was far from feeling. Not until these relatives had come and gone could she relax and give attention to her own personal plans. By that time, perhaps, she would be used to the fact that the dear grandmother was gone and that from then on she was utterly on her own.

      She was interrupted in her troubled thoughts by the sound of the doorbell.

      Quickly assuming her habitual quiet demeanor, she hurried to the door, giving a worried

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