The Twenty-Fourth of June: Midsummer's DayRichmond, Grace S. (Grace Smith)
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The Twenty-Fourth of June: Midsummer's Day
Richmond, Grace S. (Grace Smith)
Children of the rich -- Fiction; Love stories; Young women -- Fiction
"Sending Rufus and Ruth would give me quite space enough," she declared.
"Rufus has the largest room in the house, and I could put this last
party there. It is really very kind of Mr. Kendrick, and I shall be glad
to solve my problem in that way, since you think it best."
Mr. and Mrs. Rufus Gray, having the question put to them, acceded to it
with readiness. Both had been warmly drawn toward Richard, and though
his grandfather had seemed to them a figure of somewhat unnecessarily
dignified reserve, the mere fact of his extending the invitation at all
was to them sufficient proof of his cordiality.
"It's nothing at all to pack up," Mrs. Rufus asserted. "I'll just take
what I need for the night, and we'll be coming over for the tree in the
morning, so I can get my other things then. I shall call it a real treat
to be inside the home of such a wealthy man. How lonely he must be,
living in such a great house, with only his grandson!"
So Aunt Ruth descended the stairs, wearing her little gray silk bonnet
and a heavy cape of gray cloth, her hand on her husband's arm, her
bright eyes shining with anticipation. Aunt Ruth dearly loved a bit of
excitement and seldom found much in her quiet life upon the farm. As
Matthew Kendrick looked up and saw her coming slowly down, her husband
carefully adjusting himself to the dip and swing of her step as she put
always the same foot foremost, he found himself distinctly glad of his
grandson's suggestion, since it gave him so charming a guest to
entertain as Mrs. Rufus Gray.
In the interval Richard had retired to a telephone, and had made the
wires between his present position and the stone pile warm with his
orders. In consequence a certain gray-haired housekeeper, lately
returned from some family festivities of her own and about to retire,
found herself galvanized into activity by the sound of a well-known and
slightly imperious voice issuing upsetting instructions to have the best
suite of rooms in the house made ready within half an hour for
occupancy, and the house itself lighted for the reception of the guests.
Other commands to butler and Mr. Richard's own manservant followed in
quick succession, and when the young man turned away from the telephone
he was again smiling to himself at thought of the consternation he was
causing in a household accustomed to be run upon such lines of
conservatism and well defined routine that any deviation therefrom was
likely to prove most unacceptable. He himself was at home there such a
small portion of his time, and during the periods he spent there was so
careful never to bring within its walls any festival-making of his own,
he knew just how astonishing to the middle-aged housekeeper, the
solemn-faced old butler, and the rest of them, would be these midnight
orders. He was enjoying the giving of such orders all the more for that!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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