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Page 49

"There was a card in the Doctors' Club, and I called--" She
hesitated.

"I am Miss Wells. The card is mine."

"One of the women here has a small boy who wishes to take violin
lessons and I offered to come. The mother is very busy."

"I see. Will you come in? I can make you a cup of tea and we can
talk about it."

Mrs. Boyer was very willing, although she had doubts about the
tea. She had had no good tea since she had left England, and was
inclined to suspect all of it.

They went in together, Harmony chatting gayly as she ran ahead,
explaining this bit of the old staircase, that walled-up door,
here an ancient bit of furniture not considered worthy of
salvage, there a closed and locked room, home of ghosts and
legends. To Harmony this elderly woman, climbing slowly behind
her, was a bit of home. There had been many such in her life;
women no longer young, friends of her mother's who were friends
of hers; women to whom she had been wont to pay the courtesy of a
potted hyacinth at Easter or a wreath at Christmas or a bit of
custard during an illness. She had missed them all cruelly, as
she had missed many things--her mother, her church, her small
gayeties. She had thought at first that Frau Professor
Bergmeister might allay her longing for these comfortable,
middle-aged, placid-eyed friends of hers. But the Frau Professor
Bergmeister had proved to be a frivolous and garrulous old woman,
who substituted ease for comfort, and who burned a candle on the
name-day of her first husband while her second was safely out of
the house.

So it was with something of excitement that Harmony led the way
up the stairs and into the salon of Maria Theresa.

Peter was there. He was sitting with his back to the door, busily
engaged in polishing the horns of the deer. Whatever scruples
Harmony had had about the horns, Peter had none whatever, save to
get them safely out of the place and to the hospital. So Peter
was polishing the horns. Harmony had not expected to find him
home, and paused, rather startled.

"Oh, I didn't know you were home."

Peter spoke without turning.

"Try to bear up under it," he said. "I'm home and hungry,
sweetheart!"

"Peter, please!"

Peter turned at that and rose instantly. It was rather dark in
the salon and he did not immediately recognize Mrs. Boyer. But
that keen-eyed lady had known him before he turned, had taken in
the domesticity of the scene and Peter's part in it, and had
drawn the swift conclusion of the pure of heart.

"I'll come again," she said hurriedly. "I--I must really get
home. Dr. Boyer will be there, and wondering--"

"Mrs. Boyer!" Peter knew her.

"Oh, Dr. Byrne, isn't it? How unexpected to find you here!"

"I live here."

"So I surmised."

"Three of us," said Peter. "You know Anna Gates, don't you?"

"I'm afraid not. Really I--"

Peter was determined to explain. His very eagerness was almost
damning.

"She and Miss Wells are keeping house here and have kindly taken
me in as a boarder. Please sit down."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 23rd Dec 2025, 12:18

The Street of Seven Stars by Mary Roberts Rinehart