  Kitty was still thinking of her conversation with Brad when she went in to help Jane with breakfast the next morning. What could they do about it, even if they had positive proof that the Punaro boy had visited the oyster cannery on the night of the fire? He could claim he had gone there to see friends, and they would have accomplished nothing by their prying. She hoped Brad wouldn’t get in any trouble about it. “How did you like your Canteen work?” her father asked at breakfast. “Oh, fine!” she exclaimed, her thoughts returning to the real work of the previous evening. “It’s really loads of fun. I’m going to be on duty every other night.” “You’ll be doing more than your quota of hours, won’t you?” “Oh, I don’t mind that. This is no time to stick to quotas, you know.” “You spoke a truth then, Kitten,” her father said proudly. “We have so few workers over here on the island each of us will have to do double duty. It’s going “I’m so pleased you’ve found your place in the war program. I was sure you would.” Kitty glanced at her father gratefully as she handed him the hot muffins Jane had brought in. “No, thanks. I have plenty.” “But, Dad, you always eat two. And you haven’t eaten half your eggs. That’s very unpatriotic with eggs so high.” He laughed. “I’m beginning to see the effects of your nutrition course already.” “I’ll admit it’s made me food conscious, and I was already point conscious.” “I must hand it to you women for having a streak of genius with handling rationing points.” “I’m ashamed to admit it, Dad, but I find myself figuring up point values first and almost forgetting what a thing is going to cost.” “I’ve had a few worries myself over supplies,” he said, and Kitty saw the furrow deepen between his brows. “How’s that, Dad?” she asked eagerly, hoping he would open up about what was on his mind. “Oh, you have problems enough without being burdened with mine,” he said. Kitty ate the last half of her muffin with some orange-blossom honey, then she sat looking thoughtfully at her father. She had been so absorbed in her own activities lately she had paid scant heed to “Dad, don’t you think you’d better take a tonic or something?” she said finally. “Your appetite is just about gone.” He tried to laugh off her anxiety. “Oh, I’ll pick up in a day or so. I’ve been rather preoccupied with things at the office.” His admission gave her a start. “Anything wrong?” “Nothing that can’t be adjusted in time, I hope.” “You couldn’t tell me about it?” “No sense in burdening you with my problems. Kitty. You have enough on your shoulders now.” “Maybe I could help. Sometimes problems clear up after talking them over with others. Every time I’ve ever brought my troubles to you they seem to vanish in thin air.” “There’re some things a man can’t talk over with anyone, Kitten, when he’s in the service. He has to keep things from even his own daughter, whom he’d trust with his very life.” Kitty was now certain that there was something radically wrong. Was it possible that it could in any way be connected with the clues she had picked up in the last few weeks? Willard Dawson, Chief Pharmacist’s Mate, who had just preceded him, had been involved in some sort of trouble at the hospital. Was her father becoming involved in After her father had gone to the hospital Kitty couldn’t put him from her mind. She decided she must do something to lift him out of his depression. Later when she was in the kitchen helping to fix Billy’s breakfast plate, she remarked to Jane that she was afraid her father wasn’t very well. “Reckon he worried ’bout somepen, Miss Kit?” “Why? What makes you think that?” “Las’ night atter us all in bed I hear him pacin’ back an’ fo’th, back an’ fo’th, like somepen whut’s trapped.” “Somepen whut’s trapped,” kept ringing in Kitty’s head after she left the kitchen. This morning she felt like someone who had picked up half a dozen pieces of a jig-saw puzzle out of which she could make no sense at all. If she had had any idea of what was back of it all she might have pieced them together in an orderly pattern. Later as she gathered fresh nasturtiums from the little flower bed under the living-room window, the vision of Lieutenant Cary and Chief Krome playing chess rose up to trouble her. Surely they could have nothing to do with her father’s anxieties. Yet she could not forget the mutual antagonism Suddenly she had a sense of guilt that she had given her father so little companionship lately. Then she thought of Nurse Dawson, and something he had said when she first arrived, “We must have her over to dinner some evening. It means so much to people in the service to go into real homes.” “Why not have her over tonight?” she thought. She had an evening free of Canteen work, and Dad definitely needed cheering up. She hurried to her desk drawer to study her ration books to see if there were enough points left for a decent roast. Since Dad had been eating two meals at home he also had books, which helped out greatly, and with Jane’s books added she had much more latitude in her buying. Her father had just reached his office when Kitty got him on the phone. She made her tone as sprightly as possible when she asked, “Dad, how about having Hazel over to dinner tonight?” His voice had an eager quality when he answered, “Oh, fine, Kitten! It wouldn’t be too much bother?” “How About Asking Hazel Over Tonight?” “Maybe you’d better phone her. I won’t have an opportunity to see her till lunch, and by that time she may have made other plans.” “O.K., old dear, just as you say.” “Tell her I’ll call for her at six.” Kitty thought as she dialed the hospital that her father had let slip an important point. In mentioning that he wouldn’t see Hazel till noon, he implied that they must eat together every day. The thought made her feel very happy. When Kitty finally got in touch with Hazel and gave her the invitation she eagerly accepted. “Is she comin’?” Jane wanted to know as she stood in the doorway, awaiting the answer. “She and Dad were as pleased as two kids being invited to a picnic. We’ll have to give them a swell feed, Jane, and see if this improves his appetite.” Kitty dashed off to the market to see what she could get for their dinner. She did a weekly shopping in Bayport on Saturdays. In order to save gasoline she tried to manage the rest of the time with what she could pick up on the island. It proved to be a busy day for both her and Jane. While the negro girl was busy in the kitchen, Kitty tried to brighten up the rather shabby “Ain’t no use to worry ’bout de looks, Miss Kit,” Jane consoled her when she arranged and re-arranged the flowers to get the right effect. “Us make de grub taste good enough an’ dey won’t think ’bout nothin’ else. Dese ain’t no times to worry ’bout de frills o’ livin’.” Kitty had often thought that Jane, with a little more education, would have made a fine philosopher. Certainly she would never die of worrying over what couldn’t be helped. Kitty wore sweater suits so constantly she felt really dressed up when she put on one of her old silk prints and let her hair down from its tight ringlets to fall in soft auburn curls about her face. It seemed to belong that way with the flowered print. Though Kitty had intended cultivating Hazel Dawson’s acquaintance she had actually been with her only once since her arrival. Then she and her father and Hazel had eaten lunch together in the hospital dining-room, where there was little chance for connected conversation. So Kitty was also glad Hazel couldn’t praise Kitty’s delicious dinner enough, and remarked several times how wonderful it was to be in a real home. “It’s nothing like the lovely bungalow we had in New Orleans,” said Kitty. “Of course we had our own things there. But I’m not complaining. It’s too wonderful that we can be together in any sort of home now.” After a while Kitty slipped into the background and listened while her father and Hazel discussed other places they had worked, and mutual friends who were now scattered far and wide. The meal was not half over before Kitty was certain her father had more than a passing interest in this nurse. His preoccupation of the morning had vanished with the genial companionship. “I’m hoping I’ll get a chance at overseas duty again,” said Hazel. “You wouldn’t want to go till you finish the job you came here to do.” “Oh, no! No, indeed! I wouldn’t be satisfied to go anywhere till that’s done.” Kitty glanced speculatively from one to the other. Their words implied much. When Hazel looked across the table to find a puzzled expression on Kitty’s face, she instantly changed the subject. “Don’t forget, my dear, that you promised to take me on a tour of these inland waterways.” “I’m so interested in this coast country. It’s really beautiful.” “In a week or so the weather will be getting very mild, then we’ll make a day of it when you have some time off,” Kitty promised. After dinner Kitty excused herself to see about Billy, who had eaten earlier and been put to bed. As she went down the hall she heard Hazel say to her father, “I’ve been wanting to tell you something I have just uncovered.” Then for the first time Kitty felt certain that Hazel Dawson had come to the Bernard Hospital in the double capacity of nurse and investigator in behalf of her brother. In order to give them plenty of time for consultation she stayed in Billy’s room an hour, reading him bedtime stories. His sleepy eyes had been closed some time when her father poked his head in the doorway and asked, “Kitten, aren’t you coming back to the living-room?” She tried to smile disarmingly as she said softly, “Billy felt sort of out of it all. I had to make it up to him.” “I want you to sing for Hazel,” he added as they went down the hall. “Oh, please do!” exclaimed Hazel, who overheard them. “I’ve always wanted to hear you sing.” She sang a simple little lullaby first, and gaining courage from their praise, she sang the aria she had learned for her closing recital at school. “Oh, Kitty darling, your voice is really beautiful, so full and rich. You must go on with your music! All the world ought to be hearing that beautiful voice.” Hazel’s words once more stirred Kitty’s old ambition, that had been overshadowed of late by circumstances. “When the war is over, maybe,” she tried to speak with an indifference she did not feel. “But right now I have other jobs to do.” “Haven’t we all!” said Hazel significantly, and turned to meet her friend’s understanding glance. Later when her father had gone to take Hazel home, Kitty sat at the window a long time. She felt an unaccountable loneliness, even while her heart rejoiced at what the evening had revealed. What a wonderful wife Hazel would make for her dad! His loneliness had long been a source of unhappiness to her. Finally she went to her room, humming softly the lullaby, hoping that those suspicions at least had good foundation. Maybe some day after the war she would have a home of her own. What a comfort it would be to know Dad was not left alone! |
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