“Yes, I suppose so,” said Curlin dejectedly. “But it does seem so awful for mother to have to go through this, to say nothing of the rest of us. You and Link and all the rest of his friends.” He cast a quick searching look at McRae. Was this breaking her heart?
“Yes, but God loves your mother as much as you do. More, you know. And if He wants her to go through a thing like this we mustn’t grudge it for her. As for the rest of us, well, we need plenty of lessons of course,” and she laughed a pleasant little ripple. “It will be all right somehow, Curlin. Don’t let’s grieve. Especially not before we actually know just what has happened.”
“Yes,” said Curlin, a tiny bit of relief in his voice. McRae was really a wonderful girl. How brave and strong she was! “But I guess we know pretty well what to expect.”
“Well,” said the girl, smiling now, “I think we ought to get out wills handed over to the Lord thoroughly, and then we’ll be able to appreciate any pleasant surprises the Lord may have for us in the future.”
“Surprises!” said Curlin, with unbelief in his voice, almost contempt as he got up to leave. “I guess almost anything that could happen would be a pleasant surprise after this!” He sighed deeply and dropped down on a chair by the door, covering his face for an instant with his hands, and sighing heavily. “Oh, McRae! I feel as if this was all my fault. I ought to have watched over that young brother of mine instead of getting angry at him and going off and leaving him. I knew how easily he was led. I knew what his temptations would be.”
McRae got up and went over to stand beside him, laying her hand on his hair with a gentle touch.
“Don’t, Curlin!” she said. “Can’t you trust God?”
Curlin with a deep breath raised his head and looked at her, apology in his eyes, and a hint of a brave smile on his lips.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Of course!” and the look in his eyes was a promise.
Then suddenly McRae with a look in her eyes such as an angel might have worn stooped and kissed him on the forehead, a kiss like the breath of a whisper, and it brought a glory light into Curlin’s face. Glory with a touch of great humility.
Then suddenly they heard Mrs. Silverthorn calling:
“Rae! Rae dear! Where are you? I wish you’d come here and help me a minute. I can’t seem to manage this alone!” and they both sprang to answer her call.
A little later as Curlin was hurrying home to see if his mother’s reception preparations needed any of his help, he was thinking of McRae. Here he had gone over there to help her bear a heartache, and she had been the one to help him bear his.
And that precious kiss she had given him, would he ever forget it? Like a blessing to his whole life, a benediction.
Of course it wasn’t a sentimental kiss. She had trusted him to understand that. It was just a dear precious bit of comfort handed him in a sisterly way. But he was rejoiced that Steve’s marriage hadn’t hit her the way he had feared it would. That was something to be truly thankful about. It wasn’t anything he could speak about at home, or to any of his closest friends. It was just a matter between himself and God.
So, if Steve was no longer a consideration, was it conceivable that he might allow his own heart to try and win her? That was something to think about later. He mustn’t go too fast, mustn’t even allow himself to think of it now.
Then, later in the afternoon, he happened to look up and saw Paul Redfern arriving across the way. Ah! Perhaps that was the way of it. That was why she was not feeling Steve’s marriage. She was probably deeply interested in Paul. Well, Paul was the better man. Paul was rich and influential. His wife would have a fine position anywhere, and he, Curlin, was just going to be a plain farmer. He had definitely chosen that as his profession, and perhaps he shouldn’t even dream of asking a wonderful girl like McRae to share in a life like that. Well he would trust in God and learn to be content as McRae had suggested.
So he put it all aside and plunged into the preparations his mother was making for the bride, praying continually that the coming days might not be too sorrowful for his mother.
The house was in charming order, and a festive dinner well on its way to perfection, when the taxi drew up to the side door of the Grant home, bearing the recalcitrant Steve and his anxiously awaited bride.
There was a breathless moment after the taxi was sighted turning into the drive, when the family collected itself and gave one wild look at each other, exhorting one another to keep calm and not get excited, whatever was about to come. Then they could hear Steve’s beloved voice, bright with happiness as ever, paying off the taxi driver, his familiar footsteps timing with other lighter footsteps coming up on the porch. Then the family stiffened and braced its soul to meet whatever was coming, and Steve burst into the door of the sitting room with his arm around Frances Ferrin.
He rushed her right over to his mother who stood bewildered, tense, and said: “Mother, here’s your new daughter! Love her a lot! She hasn’t any mother of her own, you know,” and he handed her over to loving arms raised with great joy to embrace the bride.
“Frannie, dear!” said the trembling lips, while tears of joy sprang to her eyes. “Frannie! To think it should be you!” said the mother.
“Now, who else should it be, mother?” said the groom indignantly. “It’s always been Frannie with me, except when I thought I couldn’t get her, and then whatever I did was to get it back on her for not seeing it right away!”
Afterward Steve’s family cherished that explanation, which was the only one of Mysie they ever did get. But it rolled away a lot of burdens from all their hearts, and especially from the heart of Curlin, the big brother.
Then presently they were seated around the big dining table. The father and mother at the head and foot of the table, Steve and Frannie sitting together at one side holding hands, partly concealed by the shining damask of the table cloth, and Curlin on the other side alone. Could he be blamed that the unbidden thought came to him what if McRae were there beside him, her hand in his?
The color crept slowly up in his quiet cheeks and he had much ado to keep the thought from showing in his expressive eyes.
“And to think it was Frannie all the time!” said the father looking at his new daughter with calm content.
“Yes, to think it was our own Frannie,” echoed Curlin with a sudden streak of impishness. “And mother here had been conjuring up some foreign creature he had found in Canada, who would be the undoing of her Steve!”
Then how they laughed. And Steve returned a loving glance from Curlin as if he would taunt him. “See how foolish was your worrying when all the time I had such a girl in my thoughts!”
So Mysie faded from the family annals like mist before the morning sunshine, and if she had appeared in their midst with a large pack of blackmail in her intentions they would have only looked at her amusedly and laughed her way. There was no room in that house that night for ghosts of the past, even ghosts of wrong doing, because true love had come in, and driven away the foolishness till there was only shame left to contemplate where it had been. A good wholesome shame that would be a reminder in any future time of temptation.
When dinner was over, and all the lovely exciting news told of how and what Steve was to be in the venture that was ahead for himself and his bride; and of how Frannie had come to herself and they had got together after the misunderstandings of the past two years, and been quickly and quietly married; and after the whole family had helped to clear away the table and wash the dishes and put everything to rights for breakfast the next morning, Steve looked up with his blue eyes alight with eagerness and said in his old carefree voice that hadn’t sounded that way for almost two years:
“Now, come on folks! Let’s go over and call on the Silverthorns and spring our surprise!”
There wasn’t a dissenting voice, and even Mother Grant though she must have been weary with all the work and anxiety of the day, went eagerly off after her woolly white sweater and started out as spryly
as if she were only a girl.
But the bride and groom, holding hands, were speeding ahead of them and arrived by way of the familiar Silverthorn kitchen that had been such an intimate part of their early lives, entering softly and waiting till the rest of the Grants had entered the front door and were being ushered into the living room by Link, with a gracious welcome on his lips. Then waiting nearby till the greetings were exchanged, and before there was a chance for a word to be said beyond that, Steve drew his bride’s arm within his own and they advanced into the room with a low bow.
“Friends,” said Steve with a lilting voice, “meet my wife, Mrs. Stephen Whitney Grant!”
They all turned toward the newcomers with instant sharp attention, noted the cheerful look on Steve’s handsome face, the contented joy on his mother’s, and then looked at the bride, half afraid to face her as she lifted laughing eyes from the low bow she had been making. Then they all simply whooped with joy.
“Frannie! Frannie! O Frannie!” they cried in chorus.
Steve stood there grinning.
“Put something over on you, didn’t I?” he derided joyously.
“Well, Steve, old man, you did yourself proud!” said Paul clapping his shoulder cheerfully. “I didn’t think you had that much sense. I honestly didn’t!”
“Thanks for the compliment, Fernie,” said Steve. “I accept them kind words with reservations. She’s a grand girl, and I knew it all the time, only I didn’t know I could get her.”
And then they all cheered and howled uproariously, so that they didn’t even hear the taxi that brought Carey Carewe unheralded and left her at the door.
“Well, really!” said Carey when she could make her voice heard, as she stood in the doorway and surveyed them all in astonishment. “Is this a party? And why wasn’t I invited?”
“You’ve said it,” said Curlin arising to the occasion and taking her hand, “only it isn’t merely a party. It’s a wedding reception. Allow me to introduce the bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Grant, Miss Carewe!”
Carey went over and stood before the two and surveyed them, grinned and then turned to Curlin.
“What is it, a game? Or a charade?”
“Oh, not at all,” said Curlin, very formally. “I trust it’s going to last longer than that!”
But it was some minutes before they actually made Carey understand, and even then she was bewildered.
“Why, and we’re almost all of us here again!” she exclaimed. “Who is missing? Lutie! Lutie Waite. Why don’t we call him up? Have you tried? What’s his number, Link?”
“Sorry,” said Link dryly, “I’m afraid I can’t favor you tonight. Lutie is a good many miles away just now, and couldn’t very well get back. You see, this party is quite impromptu. Otherwise of course you would have been invited. Steve just sprung this on us a few minutes ago. He’s sailing next week for service abroad and taking Fran with him, so we had to adjust ourselves to circumstances. But I’m sure Lutie would have been here if he could have arranged it that way. He doesn’t know about Fran and Steve, however.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” said Carey, utterly dumbfounded. “Do you mean to tell me that Lutie is still trailing around with that crazy Lazarelle kid?”
There was instant attention on the part of everybody as Link answered.
“He found that the mother was very low, dying, and that there were ways in which he could be of help, so he is staying a little longer!”
“He would!” said Carey indignantly. “The big dumb fool! Hang around there until he gets that silly Lazarelle girl going again. She’ll have her claws in him yet, and she won’t let go this time either. Link, I should suppose you would try to protect him. He’s such a close friend of yours.”
“What’s all this about Lutie?” asked Steve, instantly interested.
“Why, we had word that the fourteen-year-old Lazarelle kid had run away, and was here in the city. Then his mother got seriously ill and began to cry for him so we were trying to find him. Lute happened on him one night in the mission, and he buddied up to him and got him to go home. Took him home, you know! He was afraid the kid might lose his nerve and not go!”
“What a lovely thing to do!” cried Frannie. “I always knew Lutie was rather great!”
“Such an utterly silly thing to do!” cried Carey. “If the kid hadn’t sense enough to go to his dying mother what good would he do her when he got there? I think it was utterly silly, and somebody ought to have stopped him. He just hates that Minnie! Now I suppose she’ll hang on to him, and come back here, and we’ll all have her to deal with!”
“I think you’ll have no trouble, Carey. Lutie writes me that she is very different. She has given herself to the Lord, and her whole attitude is changed. She is deeply interested in Bible study!”
“Bible study!” sneered Carey. “As if Bible study could make over a girl like that. Bible study can’t change a rotten nature. Lute will find that out soon enough. I think you ought to stop him. Paul, you ought to have a lot of influence over Lutie, why don’t you telephone him and make him come back home?”
Paul looked at Carey with a troubled glance.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t care to, Carey,” he said in his quietest tone. “I agree with you that Bible study can’t change a rotten nature but I know the Lord Jesus Christ can give a new one, and from all I hear about Minnie, He has. And I think what Luther has done is beautiful! He’s out on the Lord’s errand and I wouldn’t dare attempt to stop him. It’s just like him to do it, and I honor him for it!”
“You do?” gasped Carey weakly, and subsided.
Then Steve spoke, thoughtfully, more seriously than Steve was wont to speak.
“So do I!” he said with fervor. “That’s what Frannie and I are going to do when we get a chance, take up serious Bible study. Frannie doesn’t need it so much, I guess, but I do, a lot!”
They all laughed a pleasant little laughter that was almost near to tears, for there were so many terrible possibilities in the mission on which Steve was about to set sail.
It developed that Carey had come down to the city expecting to spend the night with Paul Redfern’s sister, but when she got there she found that the sister had gone up in the country to visit a friend, and the maid didn’t know when she would be back. She said Paul was at Silverthorns. So Carey had taken a taxi and come out. That was the way Carey did. It was impossible to tell whether she came because of Link, or Paul. But it she was after Link she must have been disappointed, for Link definitely did not give her any special attention any more. Still, Carey was satisfied to be in the crowd and watch the two. She had a feeling that she could have either of them, whichever she chose to go after.
It was a joyful evening, and rather an amazing thing to watch the difference in Steve, his devotion to his bride. Fancy Frannie, who had always seemed so full of mischief, so taken up with Steve that she had no time for flirtations! Carey studied her between whiles. Had this been going on between the two for a long time, or was it something quite new? Carey just couldn’t tell.
And Steve seemed older somehow, as if responsibility had sat upon him heavily during the last few weeks. How they all studied him, and how his mother and father rejoiced in him! To be easy to let him go away again, into a new world, a world at war, and all enveloped in mystery. How were they going to stand it?
Later they spoke of Luther Waite again. It was Steve who spoke into one of those intervals between talk, when there were so many unspoken thoughts filling the atmosphere that the audible words had died for the instant. Steve said:
“But Link, if I were you I’d keep in close touch with Lutie. You know if would be kind of dreadful if Lutie got in the toils of a girl that wasn’t just right. You know the wrong girl can do an awful lot to spoil a man’s life.”
McRae and Curlin lifted startled eyes and gave one significant glance at one another before they lowered their gaze to the floor. It was strange. But of course Steve didn’t know what they k
new of that afternoon caller, and probably never would now. After a little they both looked up and smiled. But nobody else noticed their smiles.
That night after they had all gone home, both Curlin and McRae spent time upon their knees, thanking God for what had come to Steve. Pleading that Steve and Frannie would be drawn nearer to the Lord, and never have reason to be sorry that they belonged to one another.
Chapter 18
Erminie Lazarelle had gone into a very stormy way when she obeyed the new prompting in her heart and went back to her unloved home. That first day had been only the beginning. Her record in the past was not an asset in her favor.
The children resented her presence. She was a restraint from doing the lawless things they desired to do. The apathy of their mother during the last few weeks, especially since the departure of their father and sister and elder brother, had been all to their wishes. The mother let them do what they would because it was the easiest way, and they were quick to learn the fact.
Added to all this was the lack of a maid.
Erminie had never had to work. She could not remember the time when there had not been plenty of money, and sometimes two or three servants. Now there wasn’t even one. Erminie knew very little about the best ways of working. She knew how she liked things to be, how food should taste, how things should be kept in order for the sake of mere comfort and pleasantness, but she had never had to do it herself.
So now here she was with the whole family on her hands, and a strong desire to pick up her still packed suitcase and run away again.
But she couldn’t do that. She was a “new creature in Christ Jesus.” That was what Link had told her. She had to stay and see this thing through.
Besides the three youngest children whom she had encountered at the start there were two others: Emmy Lou, aged ten, and Timothy, aged fourteen. Emmy Lou came in slowly, speculatively, around six that first evening, inquired where dinner was, and started to go out again till Erminie corralled her, and demanded help. Timothy did not come at all.