Brentwood by Grace Livingston Hill Read Free Book Online

stinging into her eyes. “You are going to be wonderful, aren’t you!”
    “No,” said Marjorie, smiling, “I’m just going to be one of the family and try to make up for lost time. Does the water bill need looking after, too? We can’t have that shut off. And what about electric light?”
    “Oh!” cried Betty softly, sinking down on the lower step of the stairs, “you’ll use all your money up!”
    “Well,” said Marjorie happily, “that’s what money is for, isn’t it? To be used up?”
    “You’re really real, aren’t you?” said Betty. “I can scarcely believe it.”
    “What did you think I was, a spirit? Here, write those addresses quick. I want to get things started and get back to help.”
    She handed her sister a little notebook and pencil from her handbag.
    “We could get along without electric light if you get a couple of candles,” Betty said with a troubled look.
    “Why should we?” said Marjorie, and stooping, she kissed her sister’s forehead lightly.
    “You’ll be sorry you ever came near us,” said Betty sadly, “having to spend all this money and go on all these errands.”
    “I’m already glad I came,” said Marjorie, “and if Mother and Father get well, and you don’t get sick, I’d say I’m having the time of my life. It makes me greatly happy to be able to help, and I only wish I’d known before that you had all this suffering.
And me with plenty!
”
    Then, although she was almost choking with tears, she gave a bright smile and hurried away on her errands.
    She went to the drugstore where there was a telephone booth and called the doctor, the coal yard, the gas company, and the electric company, and her crisp young voice, accustomed as it was to giving orders that were always promptly obeyed, brought courteous service at once, especially since full payment of the bill was promised when the agent would call. Then she went over to the little grocery and astonished the manager by selecting a large order from the best of his stock. She found also that there was a certain Joe, with a rusty little jalopy, who would for the consideration of a dime, deliver the order at once. And so, in an incredibly short space of time considering all she had accomplished, she arrived back at the house. She was in plenty of time to let in the gas man who had come post haste because of her urgency and her statement that there were two sick people in the house.
    Then the groceries arrived and filled the shelves with stores.
    In the midst of it Betty came down with round eyes of astonishment at the magic that had been wrought.
    The chill was partly gone from the house by this time, and Marjorie took off her fur coat and her smart little felt hat and hung them in the almost empty hall closet. She rejoiced to feel a strong puff of hot air coming up the tiny register in the hall.
    “Now!” she said, “I’m ready for work! Where do I put these things? Are there special places for them, or do I park them wherever I like?”
    “Wherever you like!” said Betty throwing open the little pantry door and displaying a vista of empty shelves.
    “And there comes the coal!” said Marjorie. “You’ll have to tell him where to put that!”
    Marjorie enjoyed putting away the groceries. She found the empty sugar jar and filled it. She put the vegetables and fruit in baskets. She found the old tin bread box and filled it with loaves. She had bought with a lavish hand, as far as the selection of the small store had afforded. Tin boxes of crackers and cookies and sand tarts, cheese and pickles and olives, coffee and tea and flour and meat. But there was no refrigerator, and she decided it had probably been sold. Well, it was good it was cold weather. And they could remedy most of the discrepancies tomorrow.
    Betty came up from the cellar and looked at her, watched her as she put things away.
    “Well,” she said in her sharp, young voice that had a mingling of tears in its quality, “I suppose you must