Love Finds a Home (Love Comes Softly Series #8) (3 page)

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"We'd best eat our breakfast before it gets cold," she said softly, and Mrs. Stafford-Smyth nodded in agreement and lifted her spoon with some eagerness.

From then on, Belinda noted that Mrs. Stafford-Smyth grew a bit stronger each day. It wasn't long before she was able to be up and about for short periods of time, and then she could walk the upstairs halls. At last she was able to make her way down to the rooms below. She enjoyed the summer sunshine as she sat with her needlework in the north parlor. She spent hours out on the veranda absorbing the smell and beauty of the garden. She presided once again over meals in the dining room. Belinda felt they had all been given a new lease on life. The whole household took on a new atmosphere--of thanksgiving and relief.

Belinda was thankful she could once again leave the house occasionally. She had especially missed the Sunday services at church. She was very glad to immerse herself in the stirring hymns, the Sunday Scriptures, and, yes, even the pastor's message. She could hardly wait for the time when Mrs. StaffordSmyth would be able to rejoin her in the worship.
But I mustn't rush her,
Belinda reminded herself.
She has been very ill. It wouldn't do for her to have a relapse.

Belinda was determined she would be patient. But, oh, it was so good to feel the burden of worry slip away from her, from the house and its staff. The summer days seemed brighter, the flowers fairer, the food tastier--everything seemed better to Belinda now that Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was well on her way to full health.

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THREE

Plans

As the summer progressed, Mrs. Stafford-Smyth again took over the running of Marshall Manor, giving her daily instructions to Windsor, Potter, and Cook. Belinda was able to catch up on her sleep, her mending, her letter writing, and her shopping. She gave a relieved sigh every time she thought of those trying weeks of early summer. She hadn't realized just how deeply she had worried, how frightened she had been, how wearing were the days and nights when Mrs. Stafford-Smyth had needed her constant care.

Each morning Belinda met Mrs. Stafford-Smyth in the well-lit north parlor, where they breakfasted together and planned their day. Then Belinda read a Scripture portion and led them in a daily prayer. Belinda kept hoping for the day when Mrs. Stafford-Smyth would want to pray aloud, too.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth did attend church services regularly and gave the staff Sunday morning off so they might do likewise. And though lately she seemed more interested in matters of faith, she never expressed to Belinda her true thoughts on the subject.

Belinda longed to have someone she could discuss spiritual things with, but she was sure the senior pastor of the congregation was much too busy to be bothered by a young woman who just wanted to talk. The associate pastor was a single man,

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not much older than Belinda herself. Though Belinda knew she might appreciate discussing issues of faith with a seminary graduate, she also knew better than to suggest such a thing. Everyone, including the young minister himself, would surely think Belinda had no other intentions than to snare an eligible young man. Belinda had no desire to provide the opportunity for such gossip.

So Belinda continued on each day, enjoying the time spent in Bible reading and prayer but longing for spiritual fellowship.
If only. . . if only Aunt Virgie could understand and share my feelings about faith,
she kept thinking.

But another thought concerned her.
If Aunt Virgie were to die now, would she be ready for heaven?
The idea troubled Belinda. She loved the woman dearly, and the thought of her not being prepared for eternity made Belinda spend even more time in prayer for her friend.

Toward the end of summer Mrs. Stafford-Smyth decided to host another dinner party. Belinda by now was used to socializing with her employer's wealthy and influential friends. She didn't dread the prospect of another such dinner as Pierre had done during his last visit to the household.
In fact,
Belinda concluded,
it is much better to have elderly company than no company at all.
She and Aunt Virgie needed some kind of diversion.

"What should we serve for dinnah, deah?" asked Mrs. Stafford-Smyth as they sat together in the downstairs parlor.

Belinda looked up from her needlepoint. She really cared little what was served for dinner, but she thought that would be an inappropriate response.

Instead she said mildly, "Perhaps Cook would have some suggestions."

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth considered that possibility. "Yes," she

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agreed at length. "I'm sure she would--but since this is my first dinnah party in such a long time, I'd rathah like to plan it myself."

Belinda smiled. "If you'd like to, then by all means you must."

"I was thinking of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding," the woman went on. "With asparagus tips and spiced carrots." "That sounds good," agreed Belinda.

"We'll have a vegetable salad, with Cook's special dressing." "And her poppy-seed rolls," suggested Belinda.

Mrs. Stafford-Smyth smiled, looking pleased that she had coaxed Belinda into sharing the planning.

"What about dessert?" asked the older woman.

"Oh my," said Belinda with a sigh. "I shouldn't even
think
about dessert. I'm sure I've put on some pounds the last few weeks."

"And well you needed to," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth stated firmly. "You spoke of fattening me up. I declayah, you must have lost about as much weight during my sickness as I did."

Belinda was sure it hadn't been all that much. She wanted to protest but let the matter drop.

"Cheesecake would be nice," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth mused aloud.

"Or fresh strawberry shortcake," responded Belinda. "Does Thomas still have strawberries?"

"He says he has a second crop," answered Belinda. "He is really proud of them."

"Fresh strawberry shortcake it will be, then. I nevah tire of strawberries, and we might as well enjoy them as long as they last," reasoned Mrs. Stafford-Smyth. "Ring for Cook, deah," she said to Belinda's nod. "I'd like to get this settled now."

Cook arrived with a fresh apron neatly covering her plump form. Seeming to be a bit anxious, as she often was when being

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summoned to the sitting room, her face soon relaxed as her employer began to talk of dinner plans.

"And Miss Belinda would like some of your tasty poppy- seed rolls," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth went on, bringing a smile to Cook's face. "And for dessert, I understand Thomas has another crop of strawberries. We'll have your strawberry shortcake. With cream. Everyone loves that."

Cook openly beamed in spite of herself. She loved compliments on her cuisine--especially when the recognition came from her revered employer.

"We will serve dinnah promptly at seven," went on Mrs. Stafford-Smyth.

Belinda smiled at the "promptly." She knew that Mrs. Celia Prescott would be invited and, as Pierre had remarked so long ago, "Aunt Celia's never on time."

But on the night of the first dinner party in ages at Marshall Manor, Celia Prescott was
almost
on time. She breathlessly fluttered in and greeted her hostess. "Virgie, deah, I am
so
glad you are up and about again! I was worried to
death
about you. You had that dreadful old flu for such a long, long time, I feahed you'd
nevah
recovah!"

"I'm fine now," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth assured her calmly. "I've had good care." And she cast an appreciative glance toward Belinda.

"I have long since admired your foresight in having your own personal nurse," commented Mrs. Prescott with a hint of envy. "I don't know how you'd evah manage without her."

"Nor I," agreed Mrs. Stafford-Smyth with feeling.

Belinda flushed uneasily, which seemed to please Mrs. Allenby, one of the other guests. Belinda still could not warm to the woman. She seemed to take great pleasure in the

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discomfort of others. Thankfully, all the guests were now present, and they were able to move to the dining room, where Windsor and Sarah were waiting to serve.

Chatting and laughing together, the evening passed sociably enough. Mrs. Celia Prescott humorously shared her adventures of the summer, to Mr. Walsh's great merriment. Mrs. Allenby gave an occasional imperious sniff as her contribution to the evening, while Mrs. Whitley smiled benignly on all. Her husband made up for her silence by firmly expressing himself on every subject. All in all, it was a lively evening, and Belinda concluded that it was good for Mrs. Stafford-Smyth to have someone besides her to talk to.

But when the evening ended, Belinda felt a strange emptiness. That nagging loneliness gnawed again within her.

You just feel some sort of letdown after all the planning and anticipation are done,
she reproached herself.
Aunt Virgie likely feels it, too.

Belinda quickly slipped out of her crimson party gown and into a cream-colored robe. She would help Mrs. StaffordSmyth prepare for bed.

If she feels as I do,
she murmured to herself,
she'll need some company for a bit.

But Mrs. Stafford-Smyth was not feeling at all let down. She was still excited about the party as she welcomed Belinda into her room. "Didn't everything go just fine?" she enthused, and Belinda nodded quietly in response. Aunt Virgie had slipped from her violet gown and into a soft pink robe. Sitting at the vanity, her gray hair loosened from its pins, she was brushing her hair as she talked to Belinda's reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and her voice filled with excitement. Belinda took the brush from her and gently stroked the wispy tresses.

"Celia had a wonderful idea," Aunt Virgie began at once.

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Just as she was leaving she drew me aside and suggested I spend some time with her and her sister in New Yawk."

Belinda stopped her brushing in surprise at the sudden turn of events.

"What do you think of that?" asked the older woman, turning to face Belinda, who could already see what Mrs. Stafford-Smyth thought of it.

"Why, it. . . it sounds wonderful," Belinda answered.

"Yes," mused the older woman. "Yes, I think I'd like that. I haven't been to New Yawk for yeahs. Haven't been anywheah for such a long time. I think I'd like that just fine."

"It would be good for you," responded Belinda, feeling a strange turning in the pit of her stomach. Wh
at am I to do in the meantime?
she wondered silently.
Stay in this big house all by myself?

"I could do some shopping, take in a few plays, heah the orchestra again. Yes, I think I'll accept the invitation." "And when will you go?" Belinda inquired.

"Next week. There isn't much time to prepa-ah, but any shopping that needs doing can be done in New Yawk. It would be exciting to look for a new gown someplace besides LeSoud's."

"How long will--?"

"Six weeks," Mrs. Stafford-Smyth explained. "Six weeks. That should be just right. Long enough that one won't need to rush to get everything done, but not so long as to weah out one's welcome."

Belinda nodded. "You know Aunt Celia's sister well?" asked Belinda.

"Oh my, yes. We were deah, deah friends until she moved to New Yawk. The three of us were always togethah. She's different than Celia--more subdued, more dignified. A real lady in every sense of the word. Lost her husband five yeahs ago.

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Nevah has recovahed, Celia says. She loves to have company. Celia goes at least once a yeah, but this yeah she has asked for me, too."

"That's nice," smiled Belinda. "The trip will be good for you." She kissed the older woman on the cheek and went to her own room.

But Belinda did not fall asleep very quickly. Her thoughts kept going round and round. What would she
do
all day while her employer was in New York? At times she had felt lonely and at loose ends even with Aunt Virgie at home. She wasn't worried now about the older woman's health. Mrs. StaffordSmyth seemed to be perfectly well again. But Belinda did feel a sense of panic and loss at the thought of being on her own.

Suddenly Belinda sat straight up in bed, a smile spreading over her face in the darkness.
Of course,
she said to herself.
Of course. Why didn't I think of it immediately? I've been aching to go home. This is the perfect opportunity! I won't need to worry about Aunt Virgie while I'm gone.

Belinda should have lain down and gone directly to sleep then, but she didn't. On and on raced her mind, thinking of home, trying to envision how each person might have changed, thinking of the fun of surprising her friends, cherishing the thought of spending time with her beloved family. It was almost morning before her mind would let her slip off into much- needed sleep.