Helen Waldstricker walked nervously up and down the library. Many times during the past hour she had gone to the window and stared out into the night. It was almost impossible to read or work with her mind in such a state of perturbation. Every sound caused her to lay aside her book. She was waiting for Ebenezer to return from the station with Madelene and Frederick.
Helen dreaded the home-coming of the newly married pair. Ebenezer was all upset over the letters his sister had written him from abroad, and as Deforrest was obliged to be away so much, she had spent many hours of mental worry by herself.
The sound of a carriage took her into the hall, where she stood until Ebenezer threw open the door.
The first sight of her young sister-in-law showed Mrs. Waldstricker that the girl was not at all contented and happy. Madelene's face was pale, but not more so than Frederick's. Ebenezer looked like a thunder cloud.
Helen, with her usual tact and sweetness greeted the young people in a sisterly manner.
"I'm so glad to have you both back," she purred, kissing first one, then the other. "Now, dear,"--to Madelene, "come along up with me and get off your wraps and then we'll have dinner."
The two women went upstairs together in silence, and it was not until Helen had closed the door and Madelene had removed her wraps that Mrs.
Graves turned upon her brother's wife.
"I suppose you noticed from Ebbie's letters that I've been awfully unhappy?"
"Yes," admitted Helen, "but I was in hopes it had passed over."
"It's worse now than it was before," answered Madelene, "I'm perfectly certain he doesn't care for me--"
"Then why did he marry you?" interrupted Helen.
"For my money! That's why!"
Helen's answering ejaculation brought a short, bitter laugh from the girl.
"Oh, no, dear," protested Mrs. Waldstricker. "You must be mistaken. I'm positive, he's an honorable young man."
Madelene flung herself impatiently into a chair.
"Sit down," she said. "Don't stand up!... Oh, I'm so tired! It seems years since we left France. And Fred's been like a death's house all the time. I can't for the life of me see why he should act the way he does.
Why, Helen, he goes days without as much as ever starting to speak to me. If he talks at all, I simply have to drag the words from him."
"That's dreadful," sympathized Helen, "but perhaps he isn't well, dear.
Why don't you get him to see a doctor?"
Madelene shrugged her shoulders disdainfully.
"It's not a doctor he wants, it's that Skinner girl, I can see that plainly enough."
Helen dropped on the arm of the girl's chair and slipped her arm around her neck.
"Well, now you're home," she soothed. "Ebenezer'll help you if he can, and I know Deforrest will. I'm perfectly certain though, Tessibel Skinner would do nothing to make Frederick swerve from his loyalty to you."
"Do you know whether Eb went down there to see her?" asked the girl, wearily.
"I think he did. He asked Tess for Frederick's letters, but she said she hadn't received any from him. And really, I don't believe she did, for she tells everything to Deforrest and she'd tell him that, I'm sure."
Madelene shook her head incredulously.
"I feel perfectly positive he wrote her," she asserted.
"Well, perhaps!--" said Helen.
Then they were silent a few moments.
"I suppose you haven't guessed something I have to tell you," stammered Helen, presently.
Madelene turned her eyes upon her sister-in-law. Then she smiled.
"Helen, dearest, aren't you glad about it?"
Helen blushed and radiated a smile.
"Yes, very, and so is Ebenezer! We both feel as if we have much to be thankful for--and now if you were only happy--"
"Oh, Helen, I know I've upset Ebbie a whole lot,--but who else could I go to?... Do tell me when--"
"In May, dear," whispered Helen. "I wish you were as happy as I.... But there's the dinner bell. Let's go down."
When they entered the dining room, Ebenezer was standing alone, his back to the grate.
"Did you say anything to him, Eb?" demanded Madelene.
"Certainly, child, but he insists he scarcely knows her. He rehearsed the trouble his sister had before she died--"
"Oh, he's told me that, too," interjected Madelene, tartly, "but that wouldn't make him mix her name up with mine, would it, and make him get mad every time I mention her?"
"He seems to be very much incensed that any one should accuse him of caring for her," observed Ebenezer. "And Madelene--"
Helen went quickly to her sister-in-law.
"Dear," she interrupted her husband, "if I were you, I wouldn't say anything more about it to Frederick until you're certain.... Here he comes, now. Do be pleasant to him, both of you."
But in spite of Helen's good offices, the first dinner at home was anything but a happy one for the young couple.
CHAPTER XXII
THE REPUDIATION
A week after the arrival of Frederick and Madelene Graves in Ithaca, Tessibel Skinner sat sewing near the kitchen stove and talking to Andy Bishop in the shanty garret. Outside the wind gusted over the lake, the snow birds making shrill, protesting twitters against the coming blizzard.
"You ain't mournin' 'bout somethin', kiddie, be ye?" whispered the dwarf from the hole in the ceiling.
"A little," she confessed, glancing up at the dwarf, while she knotted the thread. "I air jest thinking how awful it air fer Daddy to sleep so hard. That medicine he takes must be awful strong."