It brought a mist to all their eyes to think about leaving the dear home.
The mother got up at last, breaking the silence. There was a look of victory and peace in her face.
“If it is God’s will that those people should buy this house, they will!” she said decidedly. “Or, if it is His will that we should go through humiliation and have our house taken from us, then we must not murmur at that either. Now, let’s get these dishes out of the way, children, and then go to bed. We are all pretty well tired out, and we don’t know what tomorrow holds for us, so we had better get some sleep.”
Very quietly they all worked and, in a few minutes, had the kitchen immaculate. They had talked very little. Each one was realizing what it was going to mean to lose the house even in a respectable way.
“But, Mother,” said Rilla as she hung up the last dish towel and turned out the kitchen light, “what are we going to do? Even if we sell the house in the right way, where are we going? We can’t just make a bonfire out of our furniture and then go and park on the street.”
There was a panic in the girl’s voice. Things were looming large and sorrowful on her young horizon.
“There will be a place provided,” said the mother firmly. “I think perhaps I have an idea, but we won’t talk about it yet. We must first see what happens to this house. And tomorrow morning, Rilla, you and I have got to begin looking over things and packing away some of our belongings. When we go, we may have to go suddenly. That is, if we should happen to be ejected.”
“Mother!” said Rilla aghast. “Nobody could do that, could they?”
“Yes, I guess they couldthat is, if they were mean enough. I wouldn’t be in the least surprised if that slick lawyer did it.”
“Oh, Mother! Why didn’t we let Thurlow go to Mr. Sherwood before he left? He would have saved the house for us. I’m sure he would.”
“Let?” said Thurlow sharply, appearing in the doorway. “Where did you get that word? Did you suppose you were keeping me from it? I certainly wouldn’t have gone to Mr. Sherwood, no matter if you all begged me to.”
“Of course not!” said the mother. “Rilla, you are overwrought. You don’t realize what you are saying.”
“I don’t see why it would have been so dreadful,” said the girl with troubled brow. “It would only have been borrowing a little money. We could have paid interest on it and paid it back pretty soon. Thurlow and I could get jobs and pay it back.”
“We haven’t got the jobs yet, sister, and no telling when we will. Forget it, Rill, and go get yourself a night’s sleep. ‘You’ll be sorry you worried at all tomorrow morning,’” he chanted merrily, and then went up the stairs whistling.
Trying to keep his courage up, thought the mother with a sigh as she followed slowly up the stairs.
But in his room at last, he whistled no more. Instead, he went and stood at the open window looking down into the stillness of the summer night, and his heart was heavy. Rilla’s question of what they were going to do next confronted him and fell heavily on his heart. He had forgotten that there would be other and perhaps worse problems after the house was disposed of. And what of all his friendships and his college and Barbara and the future in general?
Thurlow awoke from a troubled sleep early in the morning, and all the world looked dark to him again. He was afraid that his hopes of selling the house to Mrs. Steele’s club were going to be dashed. Somebody would be sure to rise up and object, or there would be delay in some way.
He drank strong coffee for breakfast and wouldn’t eat the tempting things his mother had prepared. He was nervous and excitable. Rilla watched him warily.
“You’re not so complacent yourself this morning,” she mocked her brother as she came upon him staring out the window.
He forced a smile and turned upon her.
“I was just thinking that I’d better go out and cut the lawn before we have that visit from the townspeople,” he announced with elaborate cheerfulness and hurried out to get the lawn mower.
But even so the hours dragged slowly by.
Then at last they came, staring critically at the house and grounds as they surged up the front walk.
Rilla fled to the attic and wept her heart out into an old haircloth trunk where she was pleased to think she was packing away garments. But she did not escape the interlopers even there.
Mrs. Reed was the gracious hostess but wondering all the while why it seemed such a terrible thing to her to have strangers going about her beloved house, peering into every cranny and corner and bringing out infinitesimal flaws.
It was Thurlow who answered the questions, going around with the men of the party, of whom there were threeMr. Stanwood the donor and two husbands of the club committee. He was grave and courteous and seemed to be much older than he really was.
Rilla, escaping from her attic just in time before an influx of women mounted to the top of the house, watched her brother with wonder. Thurlow was growing to be a man. She was proud of him as he stood there in the doorway talking to Mr. Stanwood. Oh, to think he had to leave his home and give up his college studies and go into some miserable little minor job, just be an underling all his life, instead of turning out to be the splendid businessman his father had hoped and planned for.
There was no question about whether they liked the house. They stood in admiring groups and exclaimed and whispered and exclaimed some more. Mr. Stanwood lingered, talking a long time with Thurlow. Then they all went away. But Mr. Stanwood came back within the hour, bringing his lawyer, whom Mr. Reed also had known and trusted, and before three o’clock the money was paid to the building association, satisfying all claims, and the deed was handed over to the new owners.
Thurlow came back to his mother and sister triumphant.
“You ought to have been there, Mother. It was a thrill! Our lawyer went with me to make the settlement, and you ought to have seen those foxy men cringe when they saw who was with me. Mr. Stanwood came along. He said he wanted to see the thing through. And the questions he asked them! You should have seen how hard they had to backpedal to get around some of the things they had done. They finally ended up by charging it all on a secretary who had been fired because she got letters mixed and took too much upon herself. They said she had written the letter, and when Mr. Stanwood asked him how he came to sign such a threatening letter after it had been written, he said he had been on his way to a train and hadn’t stopped to read it over. That was that last insolent letter we got. But say, Mother, that Mr. Stanwood is a peach. He even offered to advance the money to settle up the mortgage and let us pay as we liked if we wanted to keep the house. But I knew you wouldn’t think we could do that.” He looked at his mother questioningly and sighed. He was tired, poor fellow. And after all the triumph, they were losing their house and getting nothing in return but a clear conscience and a good name.
“No! Of course not!” said the mother quickly. “But that was wonderful of him. An entire stranger.”
“He says he knew Father, or knew of him,” said the son tenderly. “Almost everyone seems to have known Father. Or at least known of him.”
The mother smiled and a light came into her eyes.
“You had a good father. Everybody
