Brentwood (Romance Classic). Grace Livingston Hill

guess his prices are rather high," she said sorrowfully.

      "What difference does that make?" said Marjorie. "We want the best there is. I'll send him as soon as I can, and you'd better make him prescribe for Father too. I'll tell him about it, and you make him. And, where do I talk to the gas people to get that gas turned on? We want to be able to cook some real dinner tonight!"

      "Oh!" said Betty quick tears stinging into her eyes. "You are going to be wonderful, aren't you!"

      "No," said Marjorie smiling, "I'm just going to be one of the family, and try to make up for lost time. Does the water bill need looking after, too? We can't have that shut off. And what about electric light?"

      "Oh!" cried Betty softly, sinking down on the lower step of the stairs, "you'll use all your money up!"

      "Well," said Marjorie happily, "that's what money is for, isn't it? To be used up?"

      "You're really real, aren't you?" said Betty, "I can scarcely believe it."

      "What did you think I was, a spirit? Here, write those addresses quick. I want to get things started and get back to help."

      She handed her sister a little note book and pencil from her handbag.

      "We could get along without electric light if you get a couple of candles," Betty said with a troubled look.

      "Why should we?" said Marjorie, and stooping kissed her sister's forehead lightly.

      "You'll be sorry you ever came near us," said Betty sadly, "having to spend all this money and go all these errands."

      "I'm already glad I came," said Marjorie, "and if Mother and Father get well, and you don't get sick, I'd say I'm having the time of my life. It makes me greatly happy to be able to help and I only wish I'd known before that you had all this suffering. And me with plenty!"

      Then although she was almost choking with tears, she gave a bright smile and hurried away on her errands.

      She betook herself to the drugstore where was a telephone booth and did the doctor, the coal, the gas, and electric light by telephone, and her crisp young voice, accustomed as it was to giving orders that were always promptly obeyed, brought courteous service at once, especially since full payment of the bill was promised when the agent would call. Then she went over to the little grocery and astonished the manager by selecting a large order from the best of his stock. She found also that there was a certain Joe, with a rusty little flivver, who would for the consideration of a dime, deliver the order at once. And so, in an incredibly short space of time considering all she had accomplished, she arrived back at the house. She was in plenty of time to let in the gas man who had come post haste because of her urgency, and her statement that there were two sick people in the house.

      Then the groceries arrived and filled the shelves with stores.

      In the midst of it Betty came down with round eyes of astonishment at the magic that had been wrought.

      The chill was partly gone from the house by this time, and Marjorie took off her fur coat and her smart little felt hat, and hung them in the almost empty hall closet. She was rejoiced to feel a strong puff of hot air coming up the tiny register in the hall.

      "Now!" she said, "I'm ready for work! Where do I put these things? Are there special places for them, or do I park them wherever I like?"

      "Wherever you like!" said Betty throwing open the little pantry door and displaying a vista of empty shelves.

      "And there comes the coal!" said Marjorie. "You'll have to tell him where to put that!"

      Marjorie enjoyed putting away the things. She found the empty sugar jar and filled it. She put the vegetables and fruit in baskets. She found the old tin bread box and filled it with loaves. She had bought with a lavish hand, as far as the selection of the small store had afforded. Tin boxes of crackers and cookies and sand tarts, cheese and pickles and olives, coffee and tea and flour and meat. But there was no refrigerator and she decided it had probably been sold. Well, it was good it was cold weather. And they could remedy most of the discrepancies tomorrow.

      Betty came up from the cellar and looked at her, watched her as she put things away.

      "Well," she said in her sharp young voice that had a mingling of tears in its quality, "I suppose you must be pretty wonderful, and I'm crazy!"

      "Nothing wonderful about it! I'm just an ordinary sister, Betty, that's mighty hungry to be taken in and made one of you!"

      "Well, I should say you'd taken us in, if you asked me! I thought we'd reached the limit and tonight would see us all well on our way out of this life, but you've somehow brought us back again where we have to go on." Suddenly Betty dropped down on a box by the kitchen door and putting her head down in her hands burst into tears. Betty was worn out.

      Marjorie was at her side at once, her arms about her, soothing her, putting the hair back from her tired forehead, putting a warm kiss on the back of her neck.

      "Why, you're cold yet, you poor dear!" she said. "Come into the hall and sit over the register and get your feet warm."

      "No! No, I'm all right," insisted Betty, raising her head and brushing away her tears. "I just can't understand it all, everything getting so different all of a sudden. Food in the house, and heat, and a chance to sit down."

      "But, my dear, you've scarcely eaten a thing. Come, let me get you a nice little lunch. Have another sandwich! And here are eggs. I don't know how good a cook I am, for I haven't had much chance to practice, but I can scramble eggs beautifully, and the gas is on now."

      Marjorie made Betty sit down and eat.

      "Mother said the soup was the best thing she had tasted in weeks," she said as she ate hungrily.

      "Have you—told her about me—yet?" asked Marjorie anxiously.

      "No," said Betty. "I didn't have a chance yet. I didn't want to excite her while she was eating. And besides Father had come in and dropped down on the other edge of the bed. He went right off to sleep. And when Mother finished her soup she put her head back and said in a whisper, 'That was good! Now I'll go to sleep awhile and then I'll be all right.' And they never either of them asked where the things came from! Mother knew Ted had gone out to try and get a few subscriptions for a magazine. She likely thinks he has picked up a few pennies. But I thought it would be better for me to wait till they woke up to tell them about you."

      "Of course!" said Marjorie. "Now, what should we do next? The doctor won't be here till two o'clock. He had gone to the hospital, but I got him on the wire and he promised to come here right from there. He had an emergency operation this morning. Is there anything to do to get ready for him?"

      "There isn't anything we can do," said Betty. "I used the last clean sheet when I made up her bed fresh last night, and I haven't had any hot water to wash them with since."

      "Well, if the sheets were clean last night they ought to be all right. Anyway I guess it's more important that they both should have a good sleep than that the bed should look stylish and uncrumpled. Let's bend our energies toward getting everything ready for a comfortable dinner. But first, tell me about us, just a word or two more. You spoke of Ted. Is he our brother?"

      "Of course. Hadn't you heard of him, either? He's almost seventeen, and he's a dear. I don't know what we would have done while Father was sick, if it hadn't been for Ted. He worked early and late, just like a man. Like two men! He got a job in a grocery, and he got up before daylight and delivered papers, and then he worked from eight in the morning till sometimes nine at night. He's out now hunting for some kind of a job. And he hasn't had much to eat for a day and a half. He wouldn't take it away from us. He had a real desperate look on his face when he went away this morning. I wish he would come back and get something to eat. But he won't come until he finds something."

      "Oh," said Marjorie, "couldn't I go out and find him? Or couldn't you, and let me stay here and look after things? It wouldn't do any good for me to go, of course, because I wouldn't know him. But I could look after Father and Mother if worst came to worst. I could perhaps get away with playing I'm you