Maris by Grace Livingston Hill

she had measured up to what he had hoped.
    "Yes, it takes responsibility off us, doesn't it? I kind of hoped you'd feel that way. And now, is there anything I could do?"
    "You've done a lot," she said earnestly. "You don't know how you've helped me. It's wonderful to know the boys are safe and there's a chance they may not get the measles. But I'm afraid they'll be an awful nuisance to you."
    "Not a bit of it. We're getting along fine. They're great kids, and I like 'em. We're going to have the time of our lives. And now, I've had the telephone put in, and you can call me anytime you like, day or night. I've nothing else to do for the next few days but hang around here, and I'm glad to have such congenial company."
    "I can't thank you enough!" said Maris earnestly, and impulsively she put out her hand. He took it in a quick hearty grasp, smiling, and was gone.
    Maris started upstairs suddenly comforted. After all, if things went wrong, God would somehow set them right. She couldn't, not even with all the apologies in the universe. Then she remembered several invitations for the near future that ought to be canceled at once, and turning back went again to the telephone. She called up several numbers, telling her friends that her mother had been taken very ill and she would have to cancel all engagements for the present. Some of them were kindly and filled with dismay, and some of them were not at home and she had to leave a message with a servant, but she felt relieved when it was done.
    Upstairs in her room at last, she heard Lexie moaning and went to see if she could do anything to help her.
    Then the clock downstairs struck six in soft silvery chimes, and almost on the dot Maris heard Tilford's car drive up and stop before the house. Now what? Her heart gave a frightened beat, and then she remembered.
    "Oh, God, You're going to take charge!" she breathed as she heard Sally coming to her door.
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CHAPTER FIVE
    As Maris passed by her mirror, she saw that her hair was all awry; there were dark circles under her eyes in a white, white face. Tilford would tell her about it at once probably, but it didn't matter.
    Out in the hall she met the nurse with a hot-water bottle in her hand.
    "Your father's feet are so cold," she explained in a whisper. "I'm afraid he's getting a nervous chill. You know he didn't eat anything at lunchtime. I've tried to persuade him to go in another room and lie down, but he won't. I wonder if you could ask the maid to bring him up a cup of coffee. I want to get him warmed up. He oughtn't to be chilly this way."
    "I will," said Maris. "Is Mother--all right?"
    "Well, she's not all right by any means, but she hasn't had any more of those sinking spells since the doctor was here."
    With a heavy heart, Maris went on her way down the back stairs to give the order to Sally and then into the living room where a frowning lover waited.
    "You're not ready!" he announced in displeasure as she came in wearily trying to smile at him.
    "Why, didn't your mother tell you I couldn't possibly come with you?"
    "I haven't seen Mother since I left the house just after lunch. I told her to remind you of our engagement and to say that you must be ready when I came for you. How long will it take you? Is your suitcase packed? I can wait exactly five minutes and no more. A man is calling me on long distance from Chicago and I must be at home when the call comes in."
    "Well, you needn't wait, Tilford. I can't possibly come. I have called your sister and explained."
    "That is unpardonable!" he said, looking at her with a glitter of scorn in his eyes. "I'm afraid I shall have to insist. I shall have to exercise my authority. This isn't an ordinary dinner engagement. This is my sister's dinner to introduce you to our friends. It is very important. I cannot allow you to disregard it."
    "Authority? Allow?" said Maris, lifting puzzled eyes to his stony, offended countenance.
    "You are wearing my ring," he said significantly. "I