Through These Fires (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill

      "Well, but surely you can find an old checkbook around the house somewhere. Go look in your old desk. Or go borrow a blank check from the neighbors."

      "No," said Lexie positively. "I have no money in our local bank here. My account is in the bank at college town. I'm sorry, but remember I didn't know you were even coming. In fact, Elaine, I haven't very much money left, not even in the bank. It has cost a good deal for the last days of college."

      "Oh yes?" said the sister with a hateful inflection in her tone. "Of course you'll say that. Well, what has become of the money? I know there was a whole lot saved up for our college courses, and half of that was mine, you know. Suppose you hand that over. That ought to be plenty to pay these two, and get rid of them."

      "I'm sorry, Elaine, but the money that was for our college courses was only what my mother had saved from her own salary in the job where she worked as long as her health allowed, and there was only enough left to bury her."

      "Oh really! You must have had some funeral! I suppose you bought a plot in the most expensive part of the cemetery, and ordered the handsomest casket on the list!"

      Sudden tears sprang into Lexie's eyes as she remember the plain simple casket, the cheapest thing that could be had, that had been her mother's choice in the few words of direction she had left behind her.

      "No!" she said, choking down a sob and shaking her head with a quick, gasping motion. "It wasn't like that! Oh, please don't, Elaine! She loved you and did her best for you. She had no show nor expense at her going. If you had chosen to come, you would have seen. You would have been ashamed to say what you have just said."

      "There! I thought you would find fault with me for not coming to her funeral! But I tell you I was too sick to travel, and it happened that I had no one to leave my children with. My husband was gone to war, and I was alone. You don't seem to care what my situation was."

      "Don't, Elaine, please. I'm not finding fault with you, and of course I know you were sick. Now let's end this useless talk and get you into the house and try to make you as comfortable as possible. Remember, you hired these people, and if a check will satisfy them it's you who will have to give it."

      Lexie turned and ran up the walk into the house, thankful to have her sudden rush of tears hidden for the moment. But she found to her dismay that she was not alone in the house. The children, unobserved for the time, had taken full possession. The oldest girl was ransacking the bookcase, pulling out armful after armful of Lexie's cherished books and casting them hit-or-miss about the floor, some halfway open, some tumbled in a heap with their pages turned in messily, some piled crookedly.

      The little boy had placed a stool before a table that he had shoved against the fireplace. Then he had climbed to the top of the table to investigate the clock that stood on the mantel. As Lexie arrived in the room he was about to pull off the hands of the clock, and crowing as he did it.

      The youngest girl was seated in the dining room calmly eating up the cold scrambled eggs and bread and butter that Lexie had arranged for her own hurried lunch. She could see her through the doorway, and was only thankful that she was harmlessly occupied for the moment. She made a dash for the boy on the table, put firm hands about his tough young wrists, holding them so tightly that he was forced to let go of the frail clock hands, and then she swept him from the table and swung him around to plant his feet on the floor. He set up the most unearthly howl she had ever heard from the lips of a child, and promptly started his stubby young toes to kicking her shins most unmercifully.

      For answer she reached down and enfolded him in a grip such as he had seldom encountered. Lexie was indignant enough to hold even that fierce young animal quiet for the moment.

      "You lemme alone!" he shrieked, and his voice rang out to the mother and nurse and driver in the taxi—and beyond to the whole neighborhood.

      "Stop!" said Lexie in a low, tense voice. "Stop, do you hear me! If you don't stop this instant I shall spank you."

      "You shan't spank me. You ain't my mother. She never spanks me! You couldn't spank me. I dare y' to!"

      Lexie bore down upon him again, taking him by surprise, turned him firmly around and laid several smart spanks on the young bare legs below the abbreviated trousers. Sharp, stinging slaps they were, cutting into the soft young flesh and bringing quick color to the surface.

      The older girl suddenly rose from her literary pursuits and went over to her brother. She lifted her skinny little fists and struck at Lexie's face, an ineffectual blow.

      "You stop that! You just let my brother alone!" she shrieked. "Don't you dare touch my brother. My mother'll kill you if you lay a hand on my brother. My mother don't believe in spankings. You stop, or I'll bite you!" and she sprang at Lexie's wrist. But Lexie drew back just in time and administered a sharp slap on the little girl's open mouth, which sent the child roaring out to her mother, with great, angry tears rolling heavily down her thin little face.

      This was a bad beginning, but Lexie knew that she must take her stand, right at the start, if she had to live with children like this, and she couldn't have them wrecking everything in the house just in the first few minutes, whether they stayed or not.

      "Now," she said as she drew a deep breath and tried to stop trembling, and to talk gently but firmly. "You can sit there and think about what you have done. You're not going to be allowed to break things here! You've got to act like a little gentleman if you want to be treated like one. Otherwise I shall spank you. I won't have this kind of thing going on. If you behave yourself we can have a pleasant time together, and there will be things you will enjoy, but if you act like a naughty boy you'll have to be treated like one."

      She turned and swept the table back into its place, took the clock from the mantel, and locked it inside the bookcase out of reach. Then catching up her purse she hurried out to the group at the gate.

      The little girl was engaged in giving an account of the altercation in the house: "That lady in the house is spanking Gerald. She took him up in her arms and held him tight and slapped him awful hard on his bare legs! She's a hateful old thing! Don't let's stay here in this dump, Elaine. Let's go back to our home! She's a wicked old woman!"

      And from the house there issued such young masculine roars of rage as made the whole neighborhood ring and echo, and brought every householder to the doors and windows to see what had happened to their usually peaceful community.

      To this accompaniment Lexie hurried out, counting out her money as she came.

      "I have five seventy-five," she said as she handed out the money, distress in her face.

      "Shut up, Angelica!" said the mother fretfully. "Why bring that up now? Wait until I get into the house and I'll settle with your aunt. And you, Lexie, go on back to the house with your stingy pocketbook. I've settled with these two. They are getting me to bed and then they're going. I found I had a little change left in my purse, and I was tired of waiting on you. Now, Nurse, lift me up and help me get on my feet. Then I can manage to walk between you and the driver. Lexie, suppose you go into the house and get me a cup of coffee. I'll need it after walking so far. Perhaps you can make yourself that useful. And for heaven's sake, keep your hands off my children. If you can't control your temper, I don't see how we are going to stand having you around."

      Lexie wanted to tell her sister that she wouldn't have to stand having her there, that she was going back to college, but she shut her gentle lips firmly and hurried into the house.

      A moment later she met her sister at the door with a good, cold glass of water.

      "I'm sorry, Elaine, there isn't a bit of coffee in the house. I thought perhaps this glass of water would help."

      Elaine looked at the water with disdain.

      "Water!" she said with contempt. "How does it happen there is no coffee in the house?"

      "I found a little box of tea in the pantry," said Lexie. "Would you like a cup of tea? I put the kettle on. It will be ready very soon."

      "Tea!" said Elaine contemptuously. "You know I never could abide tea. You certainly are about as