Miss Lulu Bett - Chapter 6, Part 2 Of 3

Miss Lulu Bett (1920) by Zona Gale is a quietly powerful portrait of a woman discovering her own worth.

For years, Lulu has lived in her sister’s bustling Midwestern household...the dependable extra pair of hands, the unmarried aunt, the woman who smooths every inconvenience and asks for nothing in return. Taken for granted and nearly invisible, she has settled into a life defined by usefulness rather than desire.

When an unexpected proposal offers her a brief escape, Lulu glimpses the possibility of a different future. What follows is not a dramatic rebellion, but something more subtle and enduring: a gradual awakening to dignity, independence and self-respect.

Tender, observant and gently ironic, Miss Lulu Bett is a story of quiet courage...and the small, steady steps by which an ordinary woman claims an extraordinary thing: possession of her own life...!

Transcript

The ploughs were at breakfast next morning when Lulu came in casually at the side door. Yes, She said, She had had breakfast. She merely wanted to see them about something. Then she said nothing, But sat looking with a troubled frown at Jenny. Jenny's hair was about her neck, Like the hair of a little girl. A south window poured light upon her, The fruit and honey upon the table seemed her only possible food. You look troubled, Lulu, Mrs Plough said. Is it about getting work? No, Said Lulu. No, I've been places to ask, Quite a lot of places. I guess the bakery is going to let me make cake. I knew it would come to you, Mrs Plough said, And Lulu thought that this was a strange way to speak, When she herself had gone after the cakes. But she kept on looking about the room. It was so bright and quiet. As she came in, Mr Plough had been reading from a book. Dwight never read from a book table. Oh, I wish, Said Lulu, As she looked at them. But she did not know what she wished. Certainly it was for no moral excellence, For she perceived none. What is it, Lulu? Mr Plough asked, And he was bright and quiet too, Lulu thought. Well, Said Lulu, It's not much, But I wanted Jenny to tell me about last night. Last night? Yes. What? Would you? Hesitation was her only way of apology. Where did you go? She turned to Jenny. Jenny looked up in her clear and ardent fashion. We went across the river and carried supper, And then we came home. What time did you get home? Oh, It was still light. Long before eight it was. Lulu hesitated and flushed. Asked how long Di and Bobby had stayed there at Jenny's. Whereupon she heard that Di had to be home early on account of Mr Cornish, So that she and Bobby had not stayed at all. To which Lulu said, And of course, But first, She stared at Jenny, And so impaired the strength of her assent. Almost at once she rose to go. Nothing else, Said Mrs Plough, Catching that look of hers. Lulu wanted to say, My husband was married before, Just as he said he was. But she said nothing more, And went home. There she put it to Di, And with her terrible bluntness, Reviewed to Di the testimony. You were not with Jenny after eight o'clock. Where were you? Lulu spoke formally, And her rehearsals were evident. Di said, When Mama comes home, I'll tell her. With this. Lulu had no idea how to deal, And nearly looked at her helplessly. Mrs Bette, Who was lacing her shoes, Now said casually, No need to wait till then. Her and Bobby were out in the side yard, Sitting in the hammock, Till all hours. Di had no answer, Save her furious flush, And Mrs Bette went on. Didn't I tell you? I knew it before the company left, But I didn't say a word. Thinks I. She's wiggles and chitters. So, I left her to stay where she was. But, Mother, Lulu cried, You didn't even tell me after he'd gone. I forgot it, Mrs Bette said. Finding Ninian's letter and all, She talked of Ninian's letter. Di was bright and alert and firm of flesh and erect before Lulu's softness and laxness. I don't know what your mother will say, Said Lulu, And I don't know what people will think. They won't think Bobby and I are tired of each other anyway, Said Di, And left the room. Through the day, Lulu tried to think what she must do. About Di, She was anxious and felt without power. She thought of the indignation of Dwight and Ina, That Di had not been more scrupulously guarded. She thought of Di's girlish folly, Her irritating independence. And there, Lulu thought, Just the other day, I was teaching her to sew. Her mind dwelt, Too, On Dwight's furious anger at the opening of Ninian's letter. But when all this had spent itself, What was she herself to do? She must leave his house before he ordered her to do so. When she told him that she had confided in Cornish, As tell, She must. But what was she to do? The bakery cake-making would not give her a roof. Stepping about the kitchen in her blue cotton gown, Her hair tight and flat, As seemed proper when one was not dressed, She thought about these things. And it was strange. Lulu bore no physical appearance of one in distress or any anxiety. Her head was erect, Her movements were strong and swift, Her eyes were interested. She was no drooping Lulu with dragging step. She was more intent, She was somehow more operative, Than she had ever been. Mrs Bette was working contentedly beside her, And now and then humming an air of that music of the night before. The sun surged through the kitchen door and east window, A returned Oreo swung and fluted on the elm above the gable, Wagons clattered by over the rattling wooden block pavement. Ain't it nice with nobody home, Mrs Bette remarked at intervals, Like the burden of a comic song. Hush, Mother, Lulu said, Troubled, Her ethical refinements conflicting with her honesty. Speak the truth and shame the devil, Mrs Bette contended. When dinner was ready at noon, Di did not appear. Little earlier, Lulu had heard her moving about her room, And she served her in expectation that she would join them. Di must be having the tantrum this time, She thought, And for a time said nothing. But at length, She did say, Why doesn't Di come? I'd better put her plate in the oven. Rising to do so, She was arrested by her mother. Mrs Bette was eating a baked potato, Holding her fork close to the tines, And presenting a profile of passionate absorption. Why, Di went off, She said, Went off down the walk, Down the sidewalk. She must have gone to Jenny's, Said Lulu. I wish she wouldn't do that without telling me. Monona laughed out and shook her straight hair. She'll catch it, She cried in sisterly enjoyment. It was when Lulu had come back from the kitchen and was seated at the table that Mrs Bette observed. I didn't think Amy would want her to take her nice new satchel. Her satchel? Yes, Amy wouldn't take it north herself, But Di had it. Mother, Said Lulu, When Di went away just now, Was she carrying a satchel? Didn't I just tell you? Mrs Bette demanded, Aggrieved. I said I didn't think Amy. . . Mother, Which way did she go? Monona pointed with her spoon. She went that way, She said. I seen her. Lulu looked at the clock, For Monona had pointed toward the railway station. The 12. 30 train which everyone took to the city for shopping would be just about leaving. Monona, Said Lulu, Don't you go out of the yard while I'm gone. Mother, You keep her. Lulu ran from the house and up the street. She was in her blue cotton dress, Her old shoes. She was hatless and without money. When she was still two or three blocks from the station, She heard the 12. 30 pulling out. She ran badly, Her ankles in their low, Loose shoes, Continually turning, Her arms held taut at her sides. So she came down the platform and to the ticket window. The contained ticket man wanted to lost trains and perturbed faces, Yet actually ceased counting when he saw her. Lenny, Did Di Deacon take that train? Sure she did, Said Lenny. And Bobby Larkin? Lulu cared nothing for appearances now. He went in on the local, Said Lenny, And his eyes widened. Where? See, Lenny thought it through. Milton, He said. Yes, Sure, Milton, Both of them. How long till another train? Well, Sir, Said the ticket man, You're in luck if you was going to. Seventeen was late this morning. She'll be along. Joke of a lamb's tail. Then, Said Lulu, You've got to give me a ticket to Milton without me paying till after. And you've got to lend me two dollars. Sure thing, Said Lenny, With a manner of laying the entire railway system at her feet. Seventeen would rather not have stopped at Warbleton, But Lenny's signal was lore on the time card, And the magnificent Yellow Express slowed down for Lulu. Hatless and in her blue cotton gown, She climbed aboard. Then, Her old inefficiency seized upon her. What was she going to do? Milton? She had been there but once, Years ago. How could she ever find anybody? Why had she not stayed in Warbleton and asked the sheriff or somebody? No, Not the sheriff. Cornish, Perhaps? And Dwight and Ina were going to be angry now. And Di, Little Di, As Lulu thought of her, She began to cry. She said to herself that she had taught Di to sew. In sight of Milton, Lulu was seized with trembling and physical nausea. She had never been alone in any unfamiliar town. She put her hands to her hair, And for the first time realised her rolled up sleeves. She was pulling down these sleeves when the conductor came through the train. Could you tell me, She said timidly, The name of the principal hotel in Milton? Minion had asked this as they neared Savannah, Georgia. The conductor looked curiously at her. Why, The Hess House, He said. Wasn't you expecting anybody to meet you? He asked kindly. No, Said Lulu, But I'm going to find my folks, Her voice trailed away. Beats all, Thought the conductor, Using his utility formula for the universe. In Milton, Lulu's inquiry for the Hess House produced no consternation. Nobody paid any attention to her. She was almost certainly taken to be a new servant there. You stop feeling so, She said to herself angrily at the lobby entrance. Ain't you been to that big hotel in Savannah, Georgia? The Hess House, Milton, Had a tradition of its own to maintain, It seemed, And they sent her to the rear basement door. She obeyed, Meekly, But she lost a good deal of time before she found herself at the end of the office desk. It was still longer before anyone attended her. Please, Sir, She burst out, See if Di Deacon has put her name on your book. Her appeal was tremendous, Compelling. The young clerk listened to her, Showed her where to look in the register. When only strange names and strange writing presented themselves there, He said, Tried the parlour and directed her kindly and with his thumb and, In the other hand, A pen divorced from his ear for the express purpose. In crossing the lobby in the hotel at Savannah, Georgia, Lulu's most pressing problem had been to know where to look. But now the idlers in the Hess House lobby did not exist. In time, She found the door of the intensely rose-coloured reception room there, In a fat, Rose-coloured chair beside a cataract of lace curtain, Sat Di alone. Lulu entered. She had no idea what to say. When Di looked up, Started up, Frowned. Lulu felt as if she herself were the culprit. She said the first thing that occurred to her. I don't believe mum'll like you taking her nice satchel. Well, Said Di, Exactly as if she had been at home, And super added, My goodness, And then cried rudely, What are you here for? For you, Said Lulu. You, You, You'd ought not to be here, Di. What's that to you, Di cried. Why, Di, You're just a little girl. Lulu saw that this was all wrong, And stopped miserably. How was she to go on? Di, She said, If you and Bobby want to get married, Why not let us get you up a nice wedding at home? And she saw that this sounded as if she were talking about a tea party. Who said we wanted to be married? Well, He's here. Who said he's here? Isn't he? Di sprang up. Aunt Lulu, She said, You're a funny person to be telling me what to do. Lulu said, Flushing, I love you just the same as if I was married happy in a home. Well, You aren't, Cried Di, Cruelly, And I'm going to do just as I think best. Lulu thought this over, Her look grave and sad. She tried to find something to say. What do people say to people, She wondered, When it's like this? Getting married is for your whole life, Was all that came to her. Yours wasn't, Di flashed at her. Lulu's colour deepened, But there seemed to be no resentment in her. She must deal with this right. That was what her manner seemed to say. And how should she deal? Di, She cried, Come back with me and wait till Mama and Papa get home. That's likely. They say I'm not to be married till I'm 21. Well, But how young that is. It is to you. Di, This is wrong. It is wrong. There's nothing wrong about getting married. If you stay married, Well, Then it can't be wrong to let them know. It isn't. But they'd treat me wrong. They'd make me stay at home and I won't stay at home. I won't stay there. They act as if I was 10 years old. Abruptly, In Lulu's face, There came a light of understanding. Why, Di, She said, Do you feel that way too? Di missed this. She went on. I'm grown up. I feel just as grown up as they do. And I'm not allowed to do a thing I feel. I want to be away. I will be away. I know about that part, Lulu said. She now looked at Di with attention. Was it possible that Di was suffering in the air of that home as she herself suffered? She had not thought of that. There, Di had seemed so young, So dependent, So a squirm. Here, By herself, Waiting for Bobby in the Hess house at Milton, She was curiously adult. Would she be adult if she were let alone? You don't know what it's like, Di cried, To be hushed up and laughed at and paid no attention to everything you say. Don't Di, Said Lulu. Don't Di. She was breathing quickly and looking at Di. If this was why Di was leaving home. But Di, She cried, Do you love Bobby Larkin? By this, Di was embarrassed. I've got to marry somebody, She said, And it might as well be him. But is it him? Yes, It is, Said Di. But, She added, I know, I could love almost anybody real nice that was nice to me. And this, She said, Not in her own right, But either she had picked it up somewhere and adopted it, Or else the terrible modernity and honesty of her day somehow spoke through her for its own. But to Lulu, It was as if something familiar turned its face to be recognised. Di, She cried, It's true. You ought to know that, She waited for a moment. You did it, She added. Mama said so. At this onslaught, Lulu was stupefied, For she began to perceive its truth. I know what I want to do, I guess, Di muttered as if to try to cover what she had said. Up to that moment, Lulu had been feeling intensely that she understood Di, But that Di did not know this. Now, Lulu felt that she and Di actually shared some unsuspected sisterhood. It was not only that they were both badgered by Dwight, It was more than that. They were two women, And she must make Di know that she understood her. Di, Lulu said, Breathing hard, What you just said is true, I guess. Don't you think I don't know? And now, I'm going to tell you, She might have poured it all out, Claimed her kinship with Di by virtue of that which had happened in Savannah, Georgia. But Di said, Here come some ladies, And goodness, Look at the way you look. Lulu glanced down. I know, She said, But I guess you'll have to put up with me. The two women entered, Looked about with the complacence of those who examine a hotel property, Find criticism incumbent, And have no errand. These two women had outdressed their occasion. In their presence, Di kept silence, Turned away her head, Gave them to know that she had nothing to do with this blue cotton person beside her. When they had gone on, What do you mean by my having to put up with you? Di asked sharply. I mean, I'm going to stay with you. Di laughed scornfully. She was again the rebellious child. I guess Bobby will have something to say about that, She said insolently. They left you in my charge, But I'm not a baby. The idea, Aunt Lulu. I'm going to stay right with you, Said Lulu. She wondered what she should do if Di suddenly marched away from her through that bright lobby and into the street. She thought miserably that she must follow. And then her whole concern for the ethics of Di's course was lost in her agonized memory of her terrible broken shoes. Di did not march away. She turned her back squarely upon Lulu and looked out of the window. For her life, Lulu could think of nothing more to say. She was now feeling miserably on the defensive. They were sitting in silence when Bobby Larkin came into the room. Four Bobby Larkins there were in immediate succession. The Bobby who had just come down the street was distinctly perturbed, Came hurrying now and then turned to the left when he met folk, Glanced sideways here and there, Was altogether anxious and ill at ease. The Bobby who came through the hotel was a Bobby who had on an importance assumed for the crisis of threading the lobby. A Bobby who wished it to be understood that here he was a man among men in the Hess house at Milton. The Bobby who entered the little rose room was the Bobby who was no less than overwhelmed with the stupendous character of the adventure upon which he found himself. The Bobby who incredibly came face to face with Lulu was the real Bobby, Into whose eyes leapt instant, Unmistakable relief. Di flew to meet him. She assumed all the pretty agitations of her role, Ignored Lulu. Bobby, Is it all right? Bobby looked over her head. Miss Lulu, He said fatuously. If it ain't Miss Lulu. He looked from her to Di and did not take in Di's resigned shrug. Bobby, Said Di, She's come to stop us getting married. But she can't, I've told her so. She don't have to stop us, Quoth Bobby gloomily. We're stopped. What do you mean? Di laid one hand flatly along her cheek, Instinctive in her melodrama. Bobby drew down his brows, Set his hand on his leg, Elbow out. We're minors, Said he. Well, Gracious, You didn't have to tell them that. No, They knew I was. But silly, Why didn't you tell them you're not? But I am, Di stared. For pity's sake, She said, Don't you know how to do anything? What would you have me do? He inquired indignantly, With his head held very stiff and with a boyish, Admirable lift of chin. Why, Tell them we're both 21. We look it. We know we're responsible. That's all they care for. Well, You are a funny, You wanted me to lie, He said. Oh, Don't make out you never told a fib. Well, But this, He stared at her. I never heard of such a thing, Di cried accusingly. Anyhow, He said, There's nothing to do now. The cat's out. I've told our ages. We've got to have our folks in on it. Is that all you can think of, She demanded. What else? Why, Come on, To Bainbridge or Holt and tell them we're of age and be married there. Di said, Bobby, Why, That'd be a rotten go. Di said, Oh, Very well, If he didn't want to marry her, He replied stonily that of course he wanted to marry her. Di stuck out her little hand. She was at a disadvantage. She could use no arts with Moo Moo sitting there looking on. Well, Then, Come on to Bainbridge, Di cried and rose. Lulu was thinking, What shall I say? I don't know what to say. I don't know what I can say. Now she also rose and laughed awkwardly. I've told Di, She said to Bobby, That wherever you two go, I'm going too. Di's folks left her in my care, You know, So you'll have to take me along, I guess. She spoke in a manner of distinct apology. At this, Bobby had no idea what to reply. He looked down miserably at the carpet. His whole manner was a mute testimony to his participation in the eternal query, How did I get into it? Bobby, Said Di, Are you going to let her lead you home? This, Of course, Nettled him. But not in the manner on which Di had counted. He said loudly, I'm not going to Bainbridge or Holt or any town and lie to get you or any other girl. Di's head lifted, Tossed, Turned from him. You're about as much like a man in a story, She said, As Papa is. The two idly inspecting women again entered the rose room, This time to stay. They inspected Lulu too. And Lulu rose and stood between the lovers. Hadn't we all better get the 4. 30 to Wobbleton, She said, And swallowed. Oh, If Bobby wants to back out, Said Di, I don't want to back out, Bobby contended furiously. But I won't. Come on, Aunt Lulu, Said Di grandly. Bobby led the way through the lobby. Di followed and Lulu brought up the rear. She walked awkwardly, Eyes down, Her hands stiffly held, Heads turned to look at her. They passed into the street. You two go ahead, Said Lulu, So they won't think they did so. And she followed and did not know where to look and thought of her broken shoes. At the station, Bobby put them on the train and stepped back. He had, He said, Something to see to there in Milton. Di did not look at him. And Lulu's goodbye spoke her genuine regret for all. Aunt Lulu, Said Di, You needn't think I'm going to sit with you. You look as if you were crazy. I'll sit back here. All right, Di, Said Lulu humbly. It was nearly six o'clock when they arrived at the Deacons. Mrs. Bett stood on the porch, Her hands rolled in her apron. Surprise for you, She called brightly. Before they had reached the door, Ina bounded from the hall. Darling, She seized upon Di, Kissed her loudly, Drew back from her, Saw the travelling bag. My new bag, She cried. Di, What have you got that for? In any embarrassment, Di's instinctive defence was hearty laughter. She now laughed heartily, Kissed her mother again and ran up the stairs. Lulu slipped by her sister and into the kitchen. Well, Where have you been, Cried Ina. I declare, I never saw such a family. Mama don't know anything and neither of you will tell anything. Mama knows aplenty, Snapped Mrs. Bett. Monona, Who was eating a sticky gift, Jumped stiffly up and down. You'll catch it, You'll catch it, She sent out her shrill general warning. Mrs. Bett followed Lulu to the kitchen. I didn't tell Ine about her bag. And now she says, I don't know nothing, She complained. There, I knew about the bag the whole time, But I wasn't going to tell her and spoil her getting home. She banged the stove griddle. I've a good notion not to eat a mouthful of supper, She announced. Mother, Please, Said Lulu passionately, Stay here. Help me, I've got enough to get through tonight. Dwight had come home. Lulu could hear Ina pouring out to him the mysterious circumstance of the bag. Could hear the exaggerated air of the casual, With which he always received the excitement of another, And especially of his Ina. Then she heard Ina's feet padding up the stairs, And after that dies, Shrill, Nervous laughter. Lulu felt a pang of pity for Di, As if she herself were about to face them. There was not time both to prepare supper and to change the blue cotton dress. In that dress, Lulu was pouring water when Dwight entered the dining room. Ah, Said he, Our festive ball gown. She gave him her hand, With her peculiar sweetness of expression, Almost as if she were sorry for him, Or were bidding him goodbye. That shows who you dress for, He cried. You dress for me. Ina, Aren't you jealous? Lulu dresses for me. Ina had come in with Di, And both were excited, And Ina's head was moving stiffly, As in all her indignations. Mrs Bett had thought better of it, And had given her presents. Already, Minona was singing. Lulu, Said Dwight, Really, Can't you run up and slip on another dress? Lulu sat down in her place. No, She said, I'm too tired. I'm sorry, Dwight. It seems to me, He began, I don't want any, Said Minona. But no one noticed Minona, And Ina did not defer, Even to Dwight. She, Who measured delicate, Troy occasions by avoir du poir, Said brightly, Now, Di, You must tell us all about it. Where had you and Aunt Lulu been, With Mama's new bag? Aunt Lulu, Cried Dwight. Aha, So Aunt Lulu was along. Well now, That alters it. How does it, Asked his Ina crossly, Why? When Aunt Lulu goes on a jaunt, Said Dwight Herbert, Events begin to event. Come, Di, Let's hear, Said Ina. Ina, Said Lulu, First, Can't we hear something about your visit? How is her eyes consulted, Dwight? His features dropped. The lines of his face dropped. Its muscles seemed to sag. The look of suffering was in his eyes. She'll never be any better, He said. I know, We've said goodbye to her for the last time. Oh, Dwight, Said Lulu, She knew it too, He said. It, It put me out of business, I can tell you. She gave me my start. She took all the care of me, Taught me to read. She's the only mother I ever knew. He stopped and opened his eyes wide, On account of their dimness. They said she was like another person while Dwight was there, Said Ina, And entered upon a length of particulars and details of the journey. These details, Dwight interrupted. Couldn't Lulu remember that he liked sage on the chops? He could hardly taste it. He had, He said, Told her this thirty-seven times. And when she said that she was sorry. Perhaps you think I'm sage enough, Said the witty fellow. Dwighty, Said Ina. Mercy, She shook her head at him. Now, Di, She went on, Keeping the thread all this time, Tell us your story about the bag. Oh, Mama, Said Di, Let me eat my supper. And so you shall, Darling, Tell it in your own way. Tell us first what you've done since we've been away. Did Mr Cornish come to see you? Yes, Said Di, And flashed a look at Lulu. But, Eventually, They were back again before that new black bag, And Di would say nothing. She laughed, Squirmed, Grew irritable, Laughed again. Lulu, Ina demanded, You were with her? Where in the world had you been? Why, But you couldn't have been with her in that dress. And yet I saw you come in the gate together. What, Cried Dwight Herbert, Drawing down his brows. You certainly did not so far forget us, Lulu, As to go on the street in that dress. It's a good dress, Mrs Bett now said positively. Of course, It's a good dress. Lulu wore it on the street, Of course she did. She was gone a long time. I made me a cup of tea, And then she hadn't come. Well, Said Ina, I never heard anything like this before. Where were you both? One would say that Ina had entered into the family and been born again, Identified with each one. Nothing escaped her. Dwight, Too, His intimacy was incredible. Put an end to this, Lulu, He commanded. Where were you two, Since you make such a mystery? Di's look at Lulu was piteous, Terrified. Di's fear of her father was now clear to Lulu, And Lulu feared him, Too. Abruptly, She heard herself temporising for the moment, Making common cause with Di. Oh, She said, We have a little secret. Can't we have a secret if we want one? Upon my word, Dwight commented, She has a beautiful secret. I don't know about your secrets, Lulu. Every time that he did this, That fleet-lifted look of Lulu's seemed to bleed. I'm glad for my dinner, Remarked Monona at last. Please excuse me. On that, They all rose. Lulu stayed in the kitchen and did her best to make her tasks indefinitely last. She had nearly finished when Di burst in. Aunt Lulu, Aunt Lulu, She cried, Come in there, Come, I can't stand it. What am I going to do? Di, Dear, Said Lulu, Tell your mother. You must tell her. She'll cry. Di sobbed. Then she'll tell Papa, And he'll never stop talking about it. I know him. Every day, He'll keep it going. After he scolds me, It'll be a joke for months. I'll die. I'll die, Aunt Lulu. Ina's voice sounded in the kitchen. What are you two whispering about? I declare, Mama's hurt Di at the way you're acting. Let's go out on the porch, Said Lulu. And when Di would have escaped, Ina drew her with them and handled the situation in the only way that she knew how to handle it, By complaining. Well, But what in this world? Lulu threw a white shawl about her blue cotton dress. A bridal robe, Said Dwight. How's that, Lulu? What are you wearing a bridal robe for, Eh? She smiled dutifully. There was no need to make him angry, She reflected, Before she must. He had not yet gone into the parlour, Had not yet asked for his mail. It was a warm dusk, Moonless, Windless. The sounds of the village street came in. Laughter, A touch at a piano, A chiming clock. Lights starred and quickened in the blurred houses. Footsteps echoed on the boardwalks. The gate opened. The gloom yielded up. Cornish. Lulu was inordinately glad to see him.