“Everyone feels like that,” Jack said, opening his arms. “Climb on up and be small for a while.”
The girl sat on his knee, and Jack put an affectionate arm around her waist And then the door opened once more, and Rose stood staring stonily at him.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, her voice icy and her eyes accusing him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“You’re not—” Elizabeth started to say, but she wasn’t allowed to finish.
“Take your chair, Elizabeth,” her mother snapped. Obediently Elizabeth left her father’s lap and sat down in her chair. She reached for the orange juice and poured herself a glass.
Jack started to rebuke his wife, then changed his mind. “Is everything all right out there?” he said instead.
“Mrs. Goodrich has it under control, and Sarah seems to have settled down, but the kitchen’s a mess.
Mrs. Goodrich thinks she was trying to get at the knife case for some reason.”
“The knife case?” Jack repeated. Elizabeth began buttering a piece of danish.
“Well, of course, she’s not sure,” Rose continued. “I can’t imagine what she’d want to do with a knife.”
“No,” Jack said briefly, “I can’t either.” Then he searched his mind for another subject, something that would take all their minds off what had just happened. Suddenly he brightened and turned to Elizabeth.
“Did you ever find Cecil?” he said.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know what happened to him. He must’ve run off somewhere. He’ll be back. Cats are like that, I guess. I’d rather have a dog, anyway. They pay more attention to you.”
“I asked Mrs. Goodrich to look for him the other day,” Rose said, her foot moving to the button on the floor that would summon the housekeeper. “But I forgot all about it till this minute.” Rose, too, was glad for the distraction from the unpleasantness that had clouded an otherwise beautiful morning. Outside the sun was shining brightly. The door to the butler’s pantry opened, and Mrs. Goodrich’s stocky frame appeared.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, Mrs. Goodrich, I know it hasn’t been the best morning. But I was just wondering, did you ever find Cecil the other day?”
“I got better things to do than search for an Independent cat,” the housekeeper said shortly. Then she relented. “No, I didn’t And I searched this place from top to bottom.” She seemed to think a moment, then spoke again. “Which reminds me. Somebody around here not satisfied with my work?”
“Not satisfied?” Rose said blankly. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” Mrs. Goodrich said, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, “someone’s been up in the attic, cleaning. If you’d wanted the attic cleaned, you might have told me. I’m getting along, but I can still keep this house.”
Rose glanced at her husband and her daughter; they both shrugged their innocence. “I’m sure I don’t know who cleaned it,” Rose said, trying her best to suggest that it probably hadn’t been cleaned at all. “And you didn’t see any traces of Cecil?”
“Cats don’t leave traces,” Mrs. Goodrich said bluntly. She turned, then stepped aside. “Scuse me,” she said, and edged around the small form of Sarah, who had been standing, hidden behind the housekeeper’s bulky form, through the whole conversation about the cat Her eyes were filled with tears, and she was shaking.
Elizabeth moved quickly to her sister and put her arms around her, stilling Sarah’s sobs with her embrace.
“It’s all right, Sarah,” she said softly. “If Cecil doesn’t show up, we can get another cat Or maybe even a dog,” she added wistfully. Sarah’s trembling increased, and she seemed about to scream. Then she relaxed under Elizabeth’s loving smile.
Rose watched Elizabeth dry Sarah’s eyes and lead her to the table, and wished once more that she had the compassion for Sarah that her older daughter clearly had. She banished the twinge of guilt she felt pass through her and poured more coffee, first for herself, then for Jack. It was in the way of calling a truce, at least for a while.
12
Port Arbello basked in the unusual warmth of the fall afternoon, and the sun warmed not only the air but also the atmosphere within the house at the end of the Point. By noon, a feeling of peace had overtaken the house, a peace all the Congers felt. The strain of the morning dissipated, and the undeclared truce between Jack and Rose seemed to be blossoming into an armistice. Within themselves, they wondered how long it would last, but each of