Bubbles and Troubles

By Ruth Moench Bell

(Previous chapter))

Chapter 8

Leslie happened in many times. He came in onto such intimate little scenes as Betty’s bath. And some of the iron in his, nature melted when, in real Rhea impishness, Betty splashed water over him and crowed with delight.

There were times when he was allowed to feed her ladyship. At such times she coquetted charmingly with Dada, as she called him.

Winter came on and Ethel, tempted beyond her strength, indulged Betty in a wonderful winter array, truly regal, furs and coat and muff, fur-trimmed hood, thumbless mitts, those ludicrous badges of babyhood, leggings and warm petticoats. Once jolted out of a selfishness that was only acquired, Ethel had gone the limit.

Leslie came in just as the baby princess was first arrayed in her splendor. The Ethel he had loved was bending over her and going into one ecstasy after another as she viewed the products of her purse; empty now and flat on the table. Leslie looked at her, a new light in his eyes.

“And what about your winter coat ?” he asked.

“Oh, I can do without one,” she tossed off lightly, not daring to meet his eyes for the tones of his voice were stirring a strange tumult in her heart. “I can brush and darn the old one and make it do.”

Leslie left abruptly. He could not trust himself longer with this re-created Ethel, this woman he found he still loved far more than in earlier days.

A clerk from Townsend’s called Mrs. Ethel Leslie over the phone the next day. “We have something that just came in we want you to see,” he explained. “Can you come right away?”

Wonderingly Ethel went. The something- proved to be a cloak, a creation, the sort of model Ethel would have chosen in the days of their prosperity.

“Try it on,” the clerk insisted.

Dazed and dazzled, yet knowing it could never be hers, Ethel, in her most regal manner, slipped into it. She gazed at her reflection in the mirror, then turned and began removing the cloak, so becoming. At this point Leslie walked in and stood beside her.

“I told him I couldn’t consider such a thing,” she faltered.

“It was I who had him send for you,” Leslie confessed. “I could see you in it the moment I saw it.” Somehow the clerk discreetly had withdrawn. “Do you like it?”

“Like it!” she exclaimed. “It is wonderful, magnificent! But I told you I could not consider a coat this winter.”

“I was wondering if you would let me pay for it,” Leslie suggested.

Ethel lifted tear-dimmed eyes to his and he pressed her hand gently.

Love! What was love of youth to this love that made one catch his breath for fear it might vanish, this love of later years, so dear because they had done without it and knew of its preciousness. She wondered now, as she felt the warmth of his presence how she could have gone away from him months at a time! How she could have made parties, instead of his comfort, her chief concern.

“Get Dolf Remlap to fix up the plumbing for you,” Leslie remarked when they again entered the cozy cottage as man and wife. It was strange to have gone through a second ceremony of marriage. The whole train of circumstances that had led up to this wonderful moment were strange. Stranger still was the fact that the simple, practical remark: “Get Dolf Remlap to fix up the plumbing for you,” should have been more thrilling than the first whispered, “I love you.” The words were so little yet meant his protection was over her again, his thoughtlessness, his practical masculine knowledge of what should be done and who should do it.

Such loving protection reminded her somewhat of the great, brooding love of The Divine Protector and somehow it brought her nearer to that serene, spiritual, practical power ready to spread itself comfortingly over her again. She had strayed and stumbled, struggling blindly without His help, also.

“If Rhea could only be with us now, and her husband,” Ethel wished as they sat at table with Betty between them. She felt now that her love was big enough to include him also.

“If they could only give up that vaudeville notion, Barney and I could develop our business together as partners now that I am getting it on its feet again,” Leslie sighed.

As if in answer to their prayers and plans, Rhea and heir husband, a few evenings later, dropped in unexpectedly. They had cancelled part of their tour to get to Betty.

“We’ll take Betty and leave at once for the coast,” Barney, fearful that his presence was perhaps undesirable, bustled importantly. He said it, however, with visible reluctance. The charm and peace of the little home was like a haven of rest to him and Rhea after the vicissitudes of their tour.

“I must get into the motion picture game,” he explained, “This travel business is too hard on the little girl.”

Rhea did look ready to collapse now that the strain was over, but so blissfully content to be home and find it a real home once more that she had made no complaint.

Betty, with the instinct of babyhood, was fluttering about both parents as if she meant never to lose them from her sight again.. Ethel and Leslie exchanged glances as they looked at Betty. How it would seem to get up in the morning and not see her bright eyes beaming at them? How they would miss her loving arms as she cuddled close so many times a day!

“Don’t you think you might find something here,” Leslie suggested to his son-in-law.

“Oh, there’s nothing here for me. I don’t want any of this ‘Mormonism’ in my life or Rhea’s !”

“We felt that once,” Ethel observed. “And I chased bubbles till they broke and I found there was nothing in them. We have found now the real comfort of our home and religion. Of course Betty has had so much to do with restoring our sanity we shall miss her cruelly.”

“And you saved her life, too, Mumsie, dear, we shan’t forget that, shall we. Barney?” Rhea interposed, gratefully.

“But she belongs to us,” Barney insisted stubbornly.

“As Rhea belonged to us,” Leslie insisted quietly.

“It’s the way of the world,” insisted Barney.

“Yes, some day,” Leslie laughed, for he felt Barney’s defense crumbling, “someday some young popinjay will spring up, Lochinvar fashion, and bear Betty away and bid her bury her past and her people and cleave only to him.”

“Here, that’s hitting below the belt,” Barney gasped, drawing Betty closer. “That is a different story. Suppose we think it over? For I must admit the prospect of a home like this has got me going. What is your plan?”

“Well, Rhea and you could have the big house and we’ll keep the little one — ”

“Why not you take the big house and we’ll have the little one?” Rhea smiled knowingly.

“Why, darn it all. this house has turned the trick for all of us,” Barney laughed. “The peace and comfort of it fits around one so snugly one wants to soothe one’s soul in it forever. It makes one believe in love and religion and babies and all the realities.”

“If you feel that way,” Leslie exclaimed fraternally, “I believe that business is strong enough to build another just like it not too far away.”

“You darling,” Rhea clasped her father around the neck while Barney caught his hand with a friendly pressure which meant thanks and a promise to meet generously with the best that was in him.

(The End)