Indeed the two girls had already passed one night in the new home, and they must dress for the affair by lamplight in their unfurnished quarters and under inconceivable difficulties.Only the lure of Italian opera, heard from a box, could have tempted them to have accepted the invitation at such a time and under such circumstances.
The morning after the opera, Laura woke in her bed--almost the only article of furniture that was in place in the whole house--with the depressing consciousness of a hard day's work at hand.Outside it was still raining, the room was cold, heated only by an inadequate oil stove, and through the slats of the inside shutters, which, pending the hanging of the curtains they had been obliged to close, was filtering a gloomy light of a wet Chicago morning.
It was all very mournful, and she regretted now that she had not abided by her original decision to remain at the hotel until the new house was ready for occupancy.But it had happened that their month at the hotel was just up, and rather than engage the rooms for another four weeks she had thought it easier as well as cheaper to come to the house.It was all a new experience for her, and she had imagined that everything could be moved in, put in place, and the household running smoothly in a week's time.
She sat up in bed, hugging her shoulders against the chill of the room and looking at her theatre gown, that--in default of a clean closet--she had hung from the gas fixture the night before.From the direction of the kitchen came the sounds of the newly engaged "girl" making the fire for breakfast, while through the register a thin wisp of blue smoke curled upward to prove that the "hired man" was tinkering with the unused furnace.The room itself was in lamentable confusion.Crates and packing boxes encumbered the uncarpeted floor; chairs wrapped in excelsior and jute were piled one upon another; a roll of carpet leaned in one corner and a pile of mattresses occupied another.
As Laura considered the prospect she realised her blunder.
"Why, and oh, why," she murmured, "didn't we stay at the hotel till all this was straightened out?"But in an adjoining room she heard Aunt Wess' stirring.
She turned to Page, who upon the pillows beside her still slept, her stocking around her neck as a guarantee against draughts.
"Page, Page! Wake up, girlie.It's late, and there's worlds to do."Page woke blinking.
"Oh, it's freezing cold, Laura.Let's light the oil stove and stay in bed till the room gets warm.Oh, dear, aren't you sleepy, and, oh, wasn't last night lovely? Which one of us will get up to light the stove?
We'll count for it.Lie down, sissie, dear," she begged, "you're letting all the cold air in."Laura complied, and the two sisters, their noses all but touching, the bedclothes up to their ears, put their arms about each other to keep the warmer.
Amused at the foolishness, they "counted" to decide as to who should get up to light the oil stove, Page beginning:
"Eeny--meeny--myny--mo----"
But before the "count" was decided Aunt Wess' came in, already dressed, and in a breath the two girls implored her to light the stove.While she did so, Aunt Wess'
remarked, with the alacrity of a woman who observes the difficulties of a proceeding in which she has no faith:
"I don't believe that hired girl knows her business.
She says now she can't light a fire in that stove.My word, Laura, I do believe you'll have enough of all this before you're done.You know I advised you from the very first to take a flat.""Nonsense, Aunt Wess'," answered Laura, good-naturedly.
"We'll work it out all right.I know what's the matter with that range.I'll be right down and see to it so soon as I'm dressed."It was nearly ten o'clock before breakfast, such as it was, was over.They ate it on the kitchen table, with the kitchen knives and forks, and over the meal, Page having remarked: "Well, what will we do first?"discussed the plan of campaign.
"Landry Court does not have to work to-day--he told me why, but I've forgotten--and he said he was coming up to help," observed Laura, and at once Aunt Wess'
smiled.Landry Court was openly and strenuously in love with Laura, and no one of the new house-hold ignored the fact.Aunt Wess' chose to consider the affair as ridiculous, and whenever the subject was mentioned spoke of Landry as "that boy."Page, however, bridled with seriousness as often as the matter came up.Yes, that was all very well, but Landry was a decent, hard-working young fellow, with all his way to make and no time to waste, and if Laura didn't mean that it should come to anything it wasn't very fair to him to keep him dangling along like that.
"I guess," Laura was accustomed to reply, looking significantly at Aunt Wess', "that our little girlie has a little bit of an eye on a certain hard-working young fellow herself." And the answer invariably roused Page.
"Now, Laura," she would cry, her eyes snapping, her breath coming fast."Now, Laura, that isn't right at all, and you know I don't like it, and you just say it because you know it makes me cross.I won't have you insinuate that I would run after any man or care in the least whether he's in love or not.I just guess I've got some self-respect; and as for Landry Court, we're no more nor less than just good friends, and Iappreciate his business talents and the way he rustles 'round, and he merely respects me as a friend, and it don't go any farther than that.' An eye on him,' I do declare! As if I hadn't yet to see the man I'd so much as look at a second time."And Laura, remembering her "Shakespeare," was ever ready with the words:
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."Just after breakfast, in fact, Landry did appear.
