The Living is Easy. Dorothy West

you bid too high,” she said fretfully, seeing the milling men throwing money away with the flick of a hand.

      “You worry your head about woman affairs. I’ll do the rest of the worrying,” he said paternally.

      “In other words, don’t meddle with your money,” she snapped.

      “It’s the child’s money,” he answered soberly, “and should God bless us with another, it’s for them both. Everything I do is to secure the future. No one of mine will ever want when I’m not here to take care of them.”

      “Let’s get going,” she said impatiently, for he was talking about saving again, and she was sick of the subject.

      Suddenly he swept Judy up in one arm and caught Cleo close to him with the other. His devotion to his wife and child was like an aura around them. Cleo felt her throat contract with a strange compassion, and she could not bear the emotion that made her see his singleness of heart. She tore herself away from him lest she reveal her understanding and return his tenderness.

      “You show Judy the store,” she said shakily. “I’ll go ask Miss Muldoon for a piece of paper to write to Lily. The quicker she gets word from me, the quicker she’ll take heart.”

      She turned and fled from his love.

      The horn of plenty had poured its harvest into every available foot of space in the store. Three of the four big rooms ran over with produce, and the fourth would be filled with Jamaican bananas when the freight cars rolled into the yards the next morning. From the ceiling in the banana room depended a thousand hooks from which swung the knotted ropes that held the heavy stems. The long middle section of the store, off which these storage and ripening rooms opened, was piled high with crates and barrels and boxes ready for shipment to various cities in New England and Canada.

      The murmurs and movements of the six Greek helpers were continuous. Three of them were year-round helpers, the three others were hired when the earth’s yield was richest and the daily turnover was tremendous. They respected the black man who was their exacting boss because he could do any one of their tasks, from making a crate to sizing fruit for the count, with more speed and efficiency than any one of them. As Bart and Judy walked past them, they lifted their peasant faces. They had the same look of earth and toil as Bart.

      In the office Cleo wrote busily, while Chris checked accounts with Miss Muldoon in a low voice so that he would not disturb her. Every once in a while Cleo raised her head to peep at them suspiciously, but she never caught either one of them toying with the till.

      She signed her scrawl to Lily and read it.

       Dear Lily,

       I will not write a long letter. There is nothing to say but to beg you to come as soon as you can get yourself and Victoria together. I am enclosing your fare, so there won’t be any holdup while Victor hems and haws. I know how you hate to travel, so you know I would not send for you if I could straighten things out without your help. I am moving to a new address. Things will be brighter there. It will seem like a different life. Mr. Judson didn’t want me to go, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. Write at once to my old address what day to expect you, and I will meet your train.

      Hastily,

      CLEO

      She smiled with satisfaction. Lily would think she was leaving Mr. Judson. Since Lily, along with poor misguided Serena and Charity, was such a firm believer in the bonds of matrimony, she would brave the iron monster to shepherd her sister back into the marriage fold.

      This speculation produced a natural sequel in Cleo’s wily mind. She released a quiet chuckle, then touched the tip of her pencil with her tongue and began to scribble furiously on a second sheet of paper. Things got done if you did them without thinking. If you thought, your scruples stopped you. It was always better to do today what your conscience might not let you do tomorrow.

       Dear Charity [her pencil scratched hurriedly]

       Lily is coming to see me. I guess she’s written you time and again how she hates to travel. So it must be a serious matter to get her on a train. It is my guess she’s planning to stay. She’s been eight years making up her mind to make the trip to Boston. It will take a power of persuasion to get her back to New York. That is where you come in. We sisters don’t turn our backs on each other in time of trouble. I’m enclosing fare for you and Penny. As soon as I get my hands on more money, I’m sending for Serena. Don’t try to write Lily. Victor might get hold of the letter and make it hard for her. Tell Ben not to expect you until we’ve straightened Lily out and sent her back to her husband. Write me by return mail what day you can come, and I will meet your train.

      Hastily,

      CLEO

      She inserted her composition in one of Bart’s envelopes, leaving it unsealed until she could include a money order. If Mr. Judson was giving her Lily’s train fare, she had the means for Charity’s.

      She heard Bart and Judy approaching and thrust the second letter in her purse. As they entered, she held up her letter to Lily.

      “It’s finished. I left it open so I could put in the money.”

      Bart nodded approval, then turned to Miss Muldoon. “How much cash can we spare?”

      She opened the till. “How much do you want?”

      He calculated rapidly. “Five dollars for that landlord, about fifty dollars to send my wife’s sister. Don’t want her and the child coming here naked. And five dollars for Cleo to fritter away.” He turned to her. “Does that fit the bill?”

      “Yes,” she said faintly. She was piling up a surplus at such a rapid rate that even she could not ask for more.

      “And we’ll see about furniture whatever day you feel like shopping for it. And, oh, Miss Muldoon, better add another five dollars. And, Cleo, I want you to go by the doctor’s before you go home.”

      Miss Muldoon counted out sixty-five dollars, with Cleo watching carefully to see if she palmed a bill.

      “You’d better send Lily a money order,” Bart advised. “I wouldn’t put too much cash in a letter.”

      “Neither would I,” said Cleo.

      She rose to go. Bart walked with her and Judy to the sidewalk.

      He suddenly remembered something. “Was there anything special you came for? Anything you want?”

      “I came to ask you for some money,” she said truthfully. The bank roll that Bart had had last night had worried her all morning. It had been her plan to shame him into parting with some more of it to avert a family spat before Miss Muldoon and Chris. “I sort of wanted to go to a sale,” she explained, with a show of diffidence. “But after all you’re doing for Lily, I wouldn’t be telling you if you hadn’t asked me.”

      “Never mind about what I’m doing for Lily. You know I don’t want you or the child to go without as long as I’m able to see that you don’t. You know it’s my pride to be a good provider.” He dug in his pocket and produced some crumpled bills. “I paid a big bill this morning, but I’ll give you all I’ve got. This ought to buy some sensible thing you see.”

      She stuffed the money in her plump purse and smiled up at the bright blue sky. “It’s one beautiful day,” she said peacefully.

      She caught Judy’s hand and walked away, and it seemed to her that behind her walked all the Jerichos, following her lead.

CHAPTER 8

      AT TWO O’CLOCK, Cleo climbed the stairs of a fine old brownstone dwelling. Judy wearily plodded after her, taking the steep steps one at a time and wanting sympathy for her bruised shank. A ribbon had come untied and dangled dismally down her back. A brown begrimed knee emerged from a hole in her stocking. The patent-leather toes of her buttoned shoes were badly scuffed, and a button had wrenched