It did not seem possible to carry on the deception much longer, but if
things were bad now, what would they be when Aunt Selina learned she had
been lied to, made ridiculous, generally deceived? And how would I be
able to live in the house with her when she did know? Luckily, every
one was so puzzled over the mystery in the house that numbers of little
things that would have been absolutely damning were never noticed at
all. For instance, my asking Jimmy at luncheon that day if he took cream
in his coffee! And Max coming to the rescue by dropping his watch in
his glass of water, and creating a diversion and giving everybody an
opportunity to laugh by saying not to mind, it had been in soak before.
Just after luncheon Aunt Selina brought me some undergarments of Jim's
to be patched. She explained at length that he had always worn out his
undergarments, because he always squirmed around so when he was sitting.
And she showed me how to lay one of the garments over a pillow to get
the patch in properly.
It was the most humiliating moment of my life, but there was no escape.
I took my sewing to the roof, while she went away to find something else
for me to do when that was finished, and I sat with the thing on my
knee and stared at it, while rebellious tears rolled down my cheeks.
The patch was not the shape of the hole at all, and every time I took a
stitch I sewed it fast to the pillow beneath. It was terrible. Jim came
up after a while and sat down across from me and watched, without saying
anything. I suppose what he felt would not have been proper to say to
me. We had both reached the point where adequate language failed us.
Finally he said: "I wish I were dead."
"So do I," I retorted, jerking the thread.
"Where is she now?"
"Looking for more of these." I indicated the garment over the pillow,
and he wiggled. "Please don't squirm," I said coldly. "You will wear out
your--lingerie, and I will have to mend them."
He sat very still for five minutes, when I discovered that I had put the
patch in crosswise instead of lengthwise and that it would not fit. As I
jerked it out he sneezed.
"Or sneeze," I added venomously. "You will tear your buttons off, and I
will have to sew them on."
Jim rose wrathfully. "Don't sit, don't sneeze," he repeated. "Don't
stand, I suppose, for fear I will wear out my socks. Here, give me that.
If the fool thing has to be mended, I'll do it myself."
He went over to a corner of the parapet and turned his back to me. He
was very much offended. In about a minute he came back, triumphant, and
held out the result of his labor. I could only gasp. He had puckered up
the edges of the hole like the neck of a bag, and had tied the thread
around it. "You--you won't be able to sit down," I ventured.