The servants watched the growing relationship between the Harrows and Nate Dugall and his niece with mixed reactions. Debbie Carlson's new personal maid, a haughty young woman with a tight, deceitful face, considered it a good joke on Mrs. Carlson, whom she thought little of but served well. Diane, pleased to be well paid for little work, refused to be drawn into the kitchen gossip. But Brownie and her two young friends continued to take a personal and delightful interest in all developments.
"Weli, you've got to hand it to Sharon,"
Sally stated. "She doesn't make any bones about it. She and old Nate like the Harrows, and that's that."
"I never knew it to happen before," Brownie opined dubiously. "But if Beth ain't embarrassed, I don't know why I should feel funny about it."
Rose nodded. "It's like Sharon says-it's still a free country. She don't believe in classes. She don't try to pretend she's any Lorraine Talmadge."
"It's tough on Uppity," Brownie said. "I guess she remembers the old days when this house was different. Sometimes I wonder why her and Andrews came back to work here for the Parkers at all."
"This is home to her and Andrews. They was thirty years with the first people, or so I heard." Sally laughed. "I sure wouldn't want to be thirty years with Mrs. Parker. I'm gettin' sick of hearin' what a great guy thatDwayneis."
"She'll bust up that marriage, if she can."
"I don't know, Brownie. After all, look how he got to be a big shot at Talmadge's by marrying her." Sally sighed. "Boy, would I love to be able to buy my clothes there.
Them sweaters they have in the window just now. Cheapest is sixty bucks! Tracy's Department Store has them for fourteen ninety-five, but of course they ain't the same."
"Sharon don't shop there," said Rose.
"She don't shop anyplace, looks like. Outside of that dress she's wearing to the Harrows' tonight, she hasn't worn anything new since I've been here."
"She don't dress up much. She sure looked nice, didn't she?"
"It about killed Uppity, them comin' through the kitchen to go out the back door." Brownie laughed. "I guess Sharon figured it was the shortest way to the garages."
"Funny they drove down that little way."
"She loves drivin' that car. I bet she paid plenty for that dress, Rose. Sure was dressed up just to go down there."
"Don't forget Beth's son is home."
"Yeah, how about him?" Sally wanted to know. "Mrs. Parker spotted him from her bedroom window and asked me who he was. She got a funny look on her face when I told her he was a doctor."
"Be funny if Sharon married him."
Brownie laughed. "The way things is goin' around here, nothin' would surprise me. But I'll say this much for Beth. She don't put on any airs just 'cause Mr. Dugall and Sharon took a shine to her and John. Uppity don't like it, but there's nothin' she can do about it."
"It kind of spoils things in a way," remarked Rose. "It just don't seem right. Workin' up here isn't anything like I thought it would be."
"I wish they'd entertain more," said Brownie. "I like big dinner parties, but all that Debbie ever has is those cocktail parties, and always the same people. Old Skyline Drive ain't what it used to be, I guess."
"Debbie complains all the time about how Dwayne's wife sort of high-hats her," Sally informed them.
"You still eavesdroppin' on the Carlsons?" Brownie demanded. "You better not let Diane catch you at it."
"I can't stand her. You ought to hear how she butters up to the Duchess." Sally looked angrily jealous. "Debbie gave her a linen suit but hardly worn. She never gave me anything."
"You got to learn to keep your mouth shut around them."
"Me and Mrs. Parker talk all the time." Sally laughed. "I get a kick out of the way I can pump her. She acts like I'm not human half the time."
"She'd die if she knew you ran down and told us everything she says."
"Well, I figure it's her hard luck. I look for a big bust-up with the Carlsons any day now," Sally said expansively. "You see, Mr. Carlson just has an ordinary job and his wife and Mrs. Parker don't think it's high-toned enough for them. Dwayne, he wants Mr. Carlson to go to work at Talmadge's, but old skinny Hermie, he ain't havin' any."
"He's a good, honest fellow," Brownie said. "1 knew his folks."
"I like him," Rose said. "He's not good-looking, but he's nice. Sharon likes him, too."
"Poor guy. He looks bad," added motherly Brownie. "And, you know, I kinda blame Mrs. Parker. Debbie always was a snippy thing, but her and Hermie was happy enough till they moved here. Hermie makes pretty good money, and they had one of those modern apartments over on the North side. She's spoiled is all, just spoiled, and I blame her mother."
"Sharon sure ain't spoiled, but she's got them all worried now she's so chummy with the old man."
"Well, Sally, one thing. Sharon ain't after his money like the rest of them. And that old man ain't so dumb as he looks."
Diane came in, sniffed at the obvious gossip going on. "You through for the night?" Brownie asked her.
"I'm free for a few hours. Mrs. Carlson doesn't expect to be late tonight." She looked unusually upset.
"What's the matter, Di? The Duchess gettin' you down?" Sally inquired slyly.
"I can handle Mrs. Carlson," was the abrupt response. "But I don't take anything off anyone," she added.
"Oh, come on, Diane, give. What did she do-accuse you of using her perfume? She was always on to me about it."
Diane sat down, rubbing the bridge of her sharp nose. Suddenly she laughed harshly. "Funny thing about it was, it was her new skin conditioner I tried."
This confession made her one of them now and accepted. "Have some coffee," invited Brownie.
Diane accepted, her lip curling. "Nouveau riche," she remarked, but since this went over the heads of her companions and did not seem to be directed at them, they ignored it.
"Are you goin' to quit, Diane?" Rose asked.
The woman shrugged. "I know how to handle Mrs. Carlson," she repeated, and laughed. "I've got my eye on a dress and a few other things she has before I quit, if I do."
Sally frowned, "How do you figure to get them-steal them?" she asked jealously.
"Don't be silly. When you've been in this business as long as I have you'll learn a few tricks. And with her, it's like taking candy from a baby."
"Don't you go puttin' wrong ideas in Sally's head," Brownie remonstrated.
"I want to know how," Sally objected.
"Go ahead, Diane, tell how you do it?"
Diane looked smug. "Nothing to it, if you know how. You have to develop finesse, or they catch on. Like, for instance, this dress I mentioned. Next time she wears it I'll just kind of frown. Not say anything, just kind of give it little looks. Subtle like. Pretty soon she'll ask do I think it's wrong for her and I'll say, 'Oh, no,' but act embarrassed. First thing you know, she'll quit wearing it, and presto!-it's mine!"
"Say, you're pretty slick." Sally laughed, then groaned. "And I'm stuck with old-lady Parker!"
"What about Sharon?" Rose suggested, a little shocked but nevertheless intrigued. Wait till she told her friends about this! "Too bad she don't let you do for her, Sally."
"I helped her dress tonight," Sally replied, and shook her head briefly. "You know, when she tries, she's darned good-looking."
Rose nodded. "I love her hair. Almost black, ain't it?"
"What I did was have her part it in the middle, and she let me trim her bangs." Sally looked pleased herself. "If she gets anywhere with Beth's son, part of the credit is mine." She laughed. "Funny thing-the way she was so anxious to look good. It must be Beth's son she's after."
Diane felt the conversation had left her hands. "I never trust the type that gets chummy with the help," she said. "All I've got to say is, Miss Sharon better not let her sister catch on."
"Those two are not at all alike, and for my money," Brownie put in, "I'll take Sharon. I hope she's havin' a real good time tonight. As good as she is to her uncle these days, she deserves to have some fun. Just hangin' around older folks ain't normal for a young girl. Yes, sir, I sure do hope she's enjoyin' herself and her and young John Harrow hit it off."
Sharon Parker would have appreciated Brownie's kind thoughts, but with wryness at their futility. She sat opposite John Harrow at the dinner table and looked at him as little as possible.
She had at first been pleasantly relieved to see that John Harrow had the same ease of manner that characterized his mother, and she had not felt awkward in his presence. She did not expect him to like her, but at least he was neither too attentive nor too disinterested. She had approved, at first, of his manner, with Uncle Nate, which had been respectful, yet full of humor. Now she had
begun to suspect this man's motives. And, too, she felt overdressed for the simple occasion and angry with herself for having taken such pains with her appearance. She surely hadn't wanted to impress him, had she?
His eyes kept flicking toward her and away as he talked to Uncle Nate about a project that absorbed him. Poor Uncle Nate, she thought. No doubt the Harrows had informed their son of his wealth and that was why all this talk about a medical clinic. It seemed John Harrow and three of his colleagues had ambitions of opening a medical clinic here in Brookings, combining in it their separate specialties. They were looking for a likely prospect to build their clinic and rent out space to them. Sharon felt a little sick, and it was with increasing difficulty that she kept her expression from revealing her inward thoughts.
"Brookings has a fine hospital," she said, entering the conversation for the first time. "And any number of doctors in private practice-in medical centers, too. I mean," she added sharply, for they were all looking at her. "I just don't see the need of another medical center in Brookings."
"No?" John Harrow's eyes looked amused, but his tone was politely serious. "There's a crying need for more doctors all over the country, Sharon," he told her. "I spent a few weeks here in Brookings this spring and was given an altogether different impression. I understand that there are some areas-on the South Side, for instance -that have no medical services quickly available at all."
She affected a shrug. "I used to live on the South Side," she replied. "I don't remember any crying need, as you put it."
Uncle Nate chuckled. "As healthy a specimen as you are, my dear, I don't wonder," he said, and turned back to the young man. "Sharon and I are rather interested in supporting good causes," he told him. "But she's a cautious one, John." He chuckled, adding, "My self-appointed guardian angel."
"And a very nice one," Beth Harrow said, smiling at the girl. "We're going to be very happy when we're real neighbors, aren't we, Sharon?"
"Yes." Sharon had no idea that the look she turned on Beth Harrow held a trace of pleading in it. Don't just like Uncle Nate
and me for what we could do for your son, Mrs. Harrow, her eyes begged. And for the first time the reality of her uncle's wealth as a real burden touched her.
"Now, no more talk of business," Beth said, a little sharply. "Let's move into the living room and have our coffee there. Will you play for us, Sharon?" She turned to her son. "The piano in this cottage is really wasted on us unmusical Harrows"-she smiled-"but Sharon plays beautifully."
"A very talented young lady all around," murmured her son.
Sharon gave him one of her typically direct looks. "Hardly," she said. "I'm the practical type, not the artistic."
"She plays the piano real well," Uncle Nate said proudly. "I used to myself when I was young. Come along and give us a tune, my dear." And in an undertone, Sharon heard him murmur, "We'll talk more tomorrow about the building, John. I'm very much interested."
Sharon sat on -the piano bench, her back very straight, and thumped the keys a bit to ease her inner exasperation. "I guess I'm playing for my supper, all right, huh, Mr, Harrow?"
It caused a little laughter, but Sharon felt her tone had created a puzzled air of tension in her listeners. She played very badly, and hardly cared. Her mind was wrestling with suspicion and some anger toward her uncle. It was quite obvious to her that the talk of the medical clinic was not news to him, and she resented his betrayal of their partnership.
"Oh, that's enough," she said suddenly, and left the piano to go to sit beside her uncle on the divan. "I'm a lousy pianist, anyway," she added, to soften her rudeness.
Beth Harrow smiled at her, thinking her shy in John's presence. "I've almost finished the book you lent me, Sharon," she said, and began to discuss the book to ease the girl's embarrassment.
Sharon felt like a guest, and blamed the son of the house. She did not sprawl in her usual relaxed fashion in this house, but sat primly and kept her expression polite. She refused to admit that young Harrow was attractive, well informed on many subjects, and a1 good conversationalist. She saw him as an opportunist and ignored him as much as possible.
She was glad when the evening ended. Young John walked them to the sporty car, and she saw how his eyes narrowed upon it-and her. She gave him a proud, disdainful look, but Uncle Nate shook his hand, beaming. "Don't forget," he said. "We'll pick you up around six. It's almost an hour's drive to the lake, so we don't want to get too late a start."
"I'll be ready."
Sharon stared from one to the other. "You're going fishing in the morning?" she demanded.
"Yes. We arranged it this afternoon," her uncle replied. "But if you don't think you can get up so early," he added innocently, "don't worry about it. Johnny can drive me."
Her eyes flared. "I prefer to do the driving of this car," she said coldly to John. "Good night, Dr. Harrow," she rasped. And he had to step back quickly from the car as she roared away.
John Harrow stood watching the speed at which she drove the winding cement roadway to the big house and felt torn between amusement and anger. Nothing his mother had written him concerning Sharon Parker coincided with what he had seen of her this evening. He had expected to meet a jolly, harum-scarum kid, and instead had been confronted by a beautifully dressed, imperious young woman with lovely but hostile eyes.
"Coming in, dear?" his mother called from the doorway.
"In a minute. You and Dad go on to bed. I feel like stretching my legs."
"All right. Good night, son. The grounds are lovely in the moonlight. No one will mind if you explore them."
He had no desire to explore the grounds. He lit a cigarette and stood staring toward the big house that gleamed whitely through the trees. His rather squarish face wore a hard look. He knew he should be feeling buoyed up by the interest Nate Dougall was showing in the medical center, but the attitude of the girl kept getting in the way.
His mother, John reflected, was inclined to be a bit naive in her assessment of people. This Sharon Parker was not easily dismissed as merely old Nate's devoted niece. John Harrow had no particular conceit, but it came as rather a shock to realize that the girl had taken a dislike to him. Why? Before dinner she had been easy enough to talk to, a little stiff at first, but friendly.
The medical center, he decided. For some reason, she froze up after it was mentioned. Her uncle claimed for her a good business head, and it was possible that she had much influence over his decisions. John dropped his cigarette and ground it out with a heel. He felt suddenly tired. The long struggle to reach the threshold of his profession, on which he now stood, had not been easy. If he was ambitious, he was also sensitive, and he had been against the taking of the job here by his mother. His father was an experienced gardener and for him the work here was ideally suited to his physical condition, but John Harrow knew that both his parents were tired. His own struggle had been theirs, too, and he would never be able to repay them for all they had done for him.
And, now, tonight, when the end of work for his parents was in view, when hope for the medical center had been kindled by Nate Dugall, it did not seem fair to have to concern himself with the whims of an arrogant young woman. And he could not rid himself of the feeling that Sharon Parker, young as she was, could turn her uncle against him.
Oh well, he thought. There will be other prospects. It was almost too much to hope that completion of internship and the medical center could happen at the same time. And if Nate Dugall personified hope for such an event, his niece was a strong reminder that nothing comes easily and giving way to too much hope merely courts disappointment.
His mother peered out at him and, seeing how still he stood, with no evidence of leg-stretching, she came out to stand beside him, laughing softly. "I can't seem to settle down for the night, either," she said. "I feel so excited, son. Nate is very interested. I have a feeling you will go back to the hospital with good news for your partners."
He put a careless arm about her shoulders. "Don't get your hopes up too much, Mom. I'm not."
– "But, Johnny, just this afternoon you were all excited yourself!" She twisted to peer up at his face. "It's not like you to start doubting just when everything seems to be working out so well. What is it, dear? Your dad feels so sure Nate.will build the clinic-"
"Look, Mom, it's no use counting your chickens before they're hatched. Nate is a fine old fellow. I like him. I just don't feel we should count on-anything."
"You're tired," his mother declared. "That's all in the world that's the matter with you. Come on in and get to bed, dear. Everything will seem brighter when you've had some rest."
. "Yeah, maybe." He let her turn him toward the door. "Now don't you bother getting up early, hear me? I can fix myself something to eat. You're the tired one, Mom." He held the door open for her, his eyes very young. "It won't be long now. Clinic or no clinic, once I get any kind of practice built up you're going to quit work and take it easy. You and Dad both. Just as soon as I'm able."
She rose on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Honey, your dad and I have been glad and proud to help, and you've done it mostly yourself. You're tired, Johnny. Go to bed, son." She pushed him into the house. "As a matter of fact," she added with a laugh, "I'll be very sorry to leave here. The work isn't hard and I just love this house. Nate would hate to lose us as neighbors, too, when he and Sharon get their cottage built."
"Well, he'll just have to get used to it.
One of these days, you're going to have someone to wait on you!" His dark eyes, so like her own, held angry hurt. "That's what I want most," he said fiercely. "To make up to you and Dad for all you've done-all you've gone without-for me."
"Go to bed," she said, near tears. "When you have a family of your own, dear, you'll understand. You've always been a blessing, son, never a burden."
His mouth twisted in a smile. "You're all the family I'll ever want or need," he said. "I'm going to be an old bachelor like Nate."
"Yes, yes," she said. "I've heard that before. Now off with you and no more talk. And tomorrow just have fun, for a change."
With that girl along? his mind questioned. Fat chance.