Stranger within the Gates (24 page)

"Who built the town?" she asked. "You? Why didn't you put in a few modern houses, and not all those little squat cabins?"

Sylvia tried to smile pleasantly.

"Why, it's Bethlehem, you know. The town where Jesus was born. I guess they didn't have any modern houses there."

"Well, guess again. You never went there, did you? Not so long ago, anyway. You don't know what they had there. Why didn't you use a little imagination and bring the thing up to date? If you've got to have Christmas, it ought not to be so far behind the times!"

Just then Mary Garland called them to breakfast, and they went out to the dining room and stood behind their chairs. Only Florimel drew out her chair and flopped down in it. But when she saw that the rest were standing, she got up again and looked around uncertainly. Was this something she hadn't heard of? She never liked to seem to be lacking in society manners nor sophistication.

They could hear the children's doors opening upstairs, and they came running lightly downstairs and took their places behind their chairs. Then Sylvia's sweet voice began and they all joined in singing, with heads bent, while Florimel stood wide-eyed and watched them:

 

"We thank Thee, Lord, for this our food,

God is love! God is love!

But most of all for Jesus' blood,

God is love! God is love!

These mercies bless and grant that we

May live and feast and reign with Thee.

God is love! God is love!"

 

Then they all sat down, and everybody said together, "Merry Christmas!"

Everybody except Florimel. She only stared around and kept her lips tightly closed. She had no smiles on her face, nor any holiday air. She was out to be as disagreeable as she could. If the old lady thought she could bring her around by songs and prayers and ceremonies, she would find out her mistake. That was Florimel's attitude. She had resolved during the waking hours of her night that today, Christmas Day, should see some progress made toward getting Rex's fortune back into his possession. If it couldn't be done by one method, it could by another, and she had several plans up her sleeve that she meant to pull off before nightfall. So she ate her nice breakfast unthankfully, and ungainly, and was indignant that the others seemed to look fairly happy in spite of her.

After breakfast they all went into the living room.

Florimel hadn't meant to. She was starting upstairs and expected Rex to follow her, and she intended to give him plenty to pay him for going off last night and staying away all night.

But Rex, with a determined look on his face, took hold of her firmly and propelled her into the living room, giving her a gentle shove down into a comfortable chair.

"Well, I like that!" she said belligerently. "What do you mean? I didn't want to come here!"

But nobody was paying any attention to her, and she subsided because she couldn't quite understand what they were going to do next. Then they broke into song again. Always singing! She couldn't understand it.

 

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow,

Praise Him all creatures here below,

Praise Him above ye heavenly host,

Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost."

 

Before she could get her mind made up to get up and flaunt out, the order changed and each in turn recited a Christmas Bible verse. Florimel didn't know they were Bible verses. She only knew it was something religious, and she looked in wonder from one to the other, as each without being called upon gave a few words. And then to her amazement they all got up and knelt by their chairs. All but herself. She wouldn't kneel. Not she! This would be a good time to slip out, now, while they were all kneeling and wouldn't see her, and when they got up she just wouldn't be there. It would be a good joke on them.

But suddenly Paul began to pray.

Florimel had never heard a young man pray before. She didn't know any of them did. It was quite interesting. He was talking just like a preacher, as if he was talking to God and He was a real person. Florimel was intrigued by it all. And next Sylvia had a brief prayer; that surprised her, too. A girl praying! What did she think she was, anyway? Some kind of a sister, or deaconess or something like they had in charitable associations? But her prayer was short, and Florimel decided that now was her chance to get out before any more religious performances went on. As she edged forward to rise, she heard Rex's voice, quiet, calm, and steady, not in the least embarrassed or upset, just as if he had done a thing like this before. She turned and looked at him in amazement, realizing that all eyes were closed and they could not see her.

Rex's eyes were shut, too, and his hand was up, half sheltering his face. There, right in the chair beside her, Rex, her new husband, was praying!

"Father in heaven, we thank You for this day on which Your Son was born into this world. It is so great to know that He came to take our sins upon Himself and pay the penalty for them with His own precious blood. So, today, we confess that we have sinned--I have sinned, Lord, and I ask forgiveness. I thank You that I know You will forgive it. Bless us all, and help us to walk to please You today. Guide us in the way we ought to go. We ask it in the name of Jesus."

Florimel was weak with astonishment. She could scarcely believe that what she had just heard had been real! Yet there he knelt quietly beside her as if he had done nothing strange. She turned wondering eyes as Stan took up the petition in his clear boyish voice, and then little Fae, asking that she might be forgiven for getting angry.

She scarcely took in the short, lovely prayer of Mary Garland, who put them all in loving care for the day of all days, and then they all arose and there was Florimel yet! She hadn't escaped, and now it was too late to produce the effect she had intended.

"Let's get to work," said Paul, smiling. "It's getting on to time for our dinner guests to arrive. Mother, here's a package for you. You rate first. 'Mother, from her kid daughter.' Open it up, Mother, and let's see what the kid has done for you. I'll bet it's a doily and she made it herself."

Fae's cheeks got rosy red and she looked embarrassed, but she grinned cheerfully.

"It's not a doily," she said. "It's some handkerchiefs, and yes, I made them, every bit. I hemstitched them!"

"Darling child!" said Mary Garland with her arms about Fae and her lips against her round, pink cheek. Florimel, staring, had a brief vision of what it might have been if she had ever had a mother to love her.

Not that it affected Florimel deeply. She curled her lip and felt superior instead of wistful.

Then Paul laid a little package in Florimel's lap, and she looked down at it as if it were something that might bite her.

"Open it up, sister," said Paul in what was evidently an attempt at brotherliness.

Then Florimel stared at him in wonder. Some months ago she had made an attempt to annex Paul to her list of admirers, but Paul carried his head high, only giving her a lofty, impersonal smile, and she soon learned that she had no effect whatever upon him. Therefore she was not in the mood to take him over as a brother-in-law. No, sir! If he wouldn't have her for herself, he needn't think he could get anywhere with her with that brother stuff. He was too proud, anyway. She wanted nothing to do with him.

So she only looked down at the package in her lap, and when Rex leaned over and whispered, "Open it, Florrie," she tossed her head and said, "No! Not now!"

Paul had always had a reputation for tact, and quickly he produced another package.

"Here's one for you, Sylvia. Come on, let's get this thing going. I don't want to hurry you, but we wouldn't want our guests to arrive while we're at this, would we?"

Then there was a package for Rex, and another one for Florimel, and Paul produced them at the same time, delivering them together, as though to make of no account the fact that Florimel had still her unopened package in her lap.

Rex got red over his, with a glance at his mother. He felt sure this was the new shirts she knew he needed.

"You'll have to--excuse--Florimel," he said, "and me," he added. "We didn't really have much time--or money--to get things after we knew we were coming home. At least Florimel didn't. She didn't know any of you yet, either."

"Of course," said Mary Garland sweetly. "We didn't expect you to. Don't think of it."

"I don't give Christmas presents," said Florimel sharply.

"Oh!" said Fae with a quick catch in her breath. "'Scuse me a minute," and she hurried out and ran upstairs.

Paul looked at his mother and Sylvia with another grin and went on distributing presents. Presently everybody had something, and Fae was back serene again, her small face wreathed in smiles over the beautiful pink dress she had found in one of her packages.

And after a while even Florimel began hesitantly to finger some of her gifts curiously. Rex reached over and helped her untie the strings, and for a few minutes she was intrigued by some of the things she had found in her packages. For they were pretty things, no makeshifts. A lovely little handbag, from Mary Garland, with all the fittings inside. A charming bureau set from Sylvia. Florimel found herself staring at her and wondering why she did it. For she was quite sure that Sylvia didn't like her as a sister-in-law. Did she think she had to do it to keep in right with Rex? She could see that they were all very fond of Rex.

It was growing late in the morning when the great pile of presents was distributed, for some of them had been adorned with pictures and accompanied by original poems that were required to be read aloud, and there was much laughter and fun. Even Florimel smiled once or twice, but for the most part she didn't unbend, and every time Rex got a nice present she looked at it as if she were jealous of it. She didn't want Rex tied down by love to his family. She didn't intend he should be, and she meant to get out and away from here as soon as ever she could. But she meant first to reduce this mother to a place where she would be ready to hand over the last penny that was coming to Rex. So she did not dare to unbend till she had things just where she wanted them.

But as they all got up and began carrying away the presents that had fallen to their lot, Florimel found she had a goodly pile of things herself and stood gloating over them. There was a box of Yardley eau de toilette, powder, and soap. She had never owned any of that. One didn't buy Yardley's on an installment plan. There was a little bottle of expensive perfume, the kind she had always longed for. There was a bangle bracelet with little tinkling things set with bright stones. There were lovely handkerchiefs. Of course, as she looked at some of the things the others had, they weren't much, and she tossed her head independently as she thought it over, comparing her things with the fountain pens and watches and really handsome gifts that had been given to some of the "own children." Of course, it was all right for them to excuse themselves about not knowing she was coming till it was too late to prepare for her. That was all baloney. If they had approved of the marriage and liked her, they would have managed something much more elegant for her. And, of course, there was still a chance they could give her a wedding present, though it didn't look very likely, the way that tightfisted mother-in-law was acting about Rex's money. However, she had really fared better than she expected. Of course, she hadn't given any of them anything, either; she hadn't anything to give them. And if they acted that way about the family money, they would never get a cent's worth from her, that was a sure thing.

Nevertheless, she took her gifts upstairs and put them away carefully, after she had first tested out some of the Yardley soap and doused one of the new handkerchiefs with the wonderful perfume. That she had put it on too freely and was going to be entirely too redolent when she came downstairs didn't bother her in the least. She enjoyed being conspicuous.

She stayed up in her room quite awhile primping--putting her hair into the latest, ugliest mode and making her lips startling with lipstick. She heard the doorbell and knew the guests must have arrived, but she didn't hurry. She heard Sylvia bringing up that other girl, and she meant to startle her, so she applied herself to putting on a fresh supply of deep, dark red nail polish until she looked almost as if her fingers were dripping with red paint.

At last Rex came up after her.

"What are you doing?" he said. "Don't you think you ought to come down? The guests are here. Selma is putting the dinner on the table!"

"I should worry!" said Florimel lightly, beginning to hum the latest jazzy tune and keep time with her feet. She wanted Rex to tell her how pretty she was, but Rex was only staring at her in disgust.

"For mercy's sake, go and wash your face!" he said fiercely. "You don't think you look nice with your mouth all smeared up in that way, do you? Those are decent people down there, not movie actresses. Go get your face clean!"

She turned and looked at him in wonder and scorn, the hurt look growing into recklessness.

"Well, if they're too fine to be smart, I'd better not go down," she said haughtily. "I dress the way the majority of the world dresses. If they don't like it, I can't help it."

"Well,
I
can!" said Rex. "I won't stand for it. I'm not going to have them thinking I married a wild woman. And those painted claws you've got on your hands! Scrub those up and cut your nails. I can't see how you can bear yourself, looking like that. I wouldn't want to introduce a decent girl to you looking like that! Isn't there some stuff you can put on that will take that red off your nails? My! You make me sick! You look as if you'd been in a battle and got wounded! I'll be back in five minutes to get you. Get washed up quick, and don't let's have any monkeyshines!"

He opened the door and went out, slamming it shut before she could rally her astounded senses to cast him a scathing protest. She stood there confounded, trying to invent a worse punishment for him than she had as yet dealt out to him.