Read The Challengers for Free Online Page A
Authors: Grace Livingston Hill
hastily retreated to her own room and locked the door resoundingly. But the butcher went out in the hall and said in a good loud tone that would easily penetrate the thin partitions as he swung open the front door:
"No, we don't need anybody just now. The trouble has passed for the time. But I'm right nearby and these folks will phone me if they need any protection during the night, and I'll let ya know. So long. Sorry ta 've troubled ya. Hope there won't be any more nonsense tanight."
Then he went back to the sorry little parlor and closed the door gently, lifting Mrs. Challenger into a more comfortable position, fanning her with a folded newspaper, and stepping out of sight when she showed signs of coming to again.
Bob brought the doctor almost at once. He scanned the white face with the closed eyes; he put a practiced finger on the slender wrist. He administered a restorative and said what they all knew, that what she needed was food and rest and freedom from anxiety, and then he went away with the kindly admonition to call him if she felt any worse, no matter what time of night.
They were all alone together at last, with the door locked and the long-neglected supper on the table. Melissa had rescued the beefsteak just after Mrs. Barkus advanced to take it over and hidden it in the warming oven, so it was almost as fine as if they had eaten it right out of the broiling.
But when they brought a plate to their mother with the delicious-smelling food upon it, she turned her head away and closed her eyes.
"I can't eat," she said, and to her horror, Rosalie, who was holding the plate, saw a great tear stealing out under her mother's lashes.
"But, Mother dear," she said, "the doctor said you must eat. Think how awful it would be if anything should happen to you! Suppose you were sick in the hospital, too, like Father. What would we all do?"
"Never mind!" said Phyllis, coming up briskly. "Whatever it is, Mother, you're not going to tell us now, not till you've eaten. You will make us all sick, you know, besides yourself. Now be a brave dear little mother and open your mouth. See this lovely bit of steak? And, Mother, this is the best soaked bread I've ever made. It has lots of butter in it, and the onion is just right. And isn't it lovely that we can have supper at last? Did you ever taste such steak? Don't you mind that silly old Barkus woman. We'll get away from here sometime and never remember her again. She really doesn't amount to anything."
"Oh, Phyllis, it is so humiliating. Your father would feel it so for us all."
"Well, let's just be thankful he can't know. We needn't ever tell him unless we want to, sometime when we are all happy and right again."
"Oh, but, my dear, I'm afraid we'll never be happy and right again. I haven't told you all. Your father--!"
"Is Father worse? Tell me quick, Mother; it's better for us to know."
"No, he's no worse. He's better. But--the doctor says what he needs now is to go to the country and rest for a year. He mustn't have a care or worry. Absolute ease, absolute quiet. And it's all just as impossible as if he had said he must have heaven here on earth for a year."
Mrs. Challenger broke down and wept, and Phyllis, standing there with the nice forkful of beefsteak, just kept still for a minute and let her weep. Then she broke forth with a glad note in her voice.
"Why, that's lovely, Mother. That's wonderful! Father well enough to leave the hospital and get out into the country somewhere. There's nothing to cry over in that. Come, let's be happy! Let's eat our nice supper. For, Mumsie dear, we're all of us deadly hungry. Lissa and I haven't had a bite since crackers and tea this morning, and you didn't even have the crackers."
"But how can we ever manage to give him what he needs, Phyllis?"
"Oh, there'll be a way, Mumsie dear. Let's forget it tonight and eat our supper."
"Yes, there'll be a way! There will truly, Mother!" said little Rosalie earnestly. "I prayed for an onion
"No, we don't need anybody just now. The trouble has passed for the time. But I'm right nearby and these folks will phone me if they need any protection during the night, and I'll let ya know. So long. Sorry ta 've troubled ya. Hope there won't be any more nonsense tanight."
Then he went back to the sorry little parlor and closed the door gently, lifting Mrs. Challenger into a more comfortable position, fanning her with a folded newspaper, and stepping out of sight when she showed signs of coming to again.
Bob brought the doctor almost at once. He scanned the white face with the closed eyes; he put a practiced finger on the slender wrist. He administered a restorative and said what they all knew, that what she needed was food and rest and freedom from anxiety, and then he went away with the kindly admonition to call him if she felt any worse, no matter what time of night.
They were all alone together at last, with the door locked and the long-neglected supper on the table. Melissa had rescued the beefsteak just after Mrs. Barkus advanced to take it over and hidden it in the warming oven, so it was almost as fine as if they had eaten it right out of the broiling.
But when they brought a plate to their mother with the delicious-smelling food upon it, she turned her head away and closed her eyes.
"I can't eat," she said, and to her horror, Rosalie, who was holding the plate, saw a great tear stealing out under her mother's lashes.
"But, Mother dear," she said, "the doctor said you must eat. Think how awful it would be if anything should happen to you! Suppose you were sick in the hospital, too, like Father. What would we all do?"
"Never mind!" said Phyllis, coming up briskly. "Whatever it is, Mother, you're not going to tell us now, not till you've eaten. You will make us all sick, you know, besides yourself. Now be a brave dear little mother and open your mouth. See this lovely bit of steak? And, Mother, this is the best soaked bread I've ever made. It has lots of butter in it, and the onion is just right. And isn't it lovely that we can have supper at last? Did you ever taste such steak? Don't you mind that silly old Barkus woman. We'll get away from here sometime and never remember her again. She really doesn't amount to anything."
"Oh, Phyllis, it is so humiliating. Your father would feel it so for us all."
"Well, let's just be thankful he can't know. We needn't ever tell him unless we want to, sometime when we are all happy and right again."
"Oh, but, my dear, I'm afraid we'll never be happy and right again. I haven't told you all. Your father--!"
"Is Father worse? Tell me quick, Mother; it's better for us to know."
"No, he's no worse. He's better. But--the doctor says what he needs now is to go to the country and rest for a year. He mustn't have a care or worry. Absolute ease, absolute quiet. And it's all just as impossible as if he had said he must have heaven here on earth for a year."
Mrs. Challenger broke down and wept, and Phyllis, standing there with the nice forkful of beefsteak, just kept still for a minute and let her weep. Then she broke forth with a glad note in her voice.
"Why, that's lovely, Mother. That's wonderful! Father well enough to leave the hospital and get out into the country somewhere. There's nothing to cry over in that. Come, let's be happy! Let's eat our nice supper. For, Mumsie dear, we're all of us deadly hungry. Lissa and I haven't had a bite since crackers and tea this morning, and you didn't even have the crackers."
"But how can we ever manage to give him what he needs, Phyllis?"
"Oh, there'll be a way, Mumsie dear. Let's forget it tonight and eat our supper."
"Yes, there'll be a way! There will truly, Mother!" said little Rosalie earnestly. "I prayed for an onion