But when she got through the first paragraph, some turn of a phrase recalled to her a remark of Bainbridge’s, and her mind was off on a tangent at once, arguing the subject from every angle.
In vain she jerked herself back to the duty in hand and tried to go on, but phrase after phrase reminded her of Ballard’s line of argument, and now she recalled that he had been the one who had suggested these books for her to read. And his conversation was so like the author that she began to wonder whether he was an original thinker or was just echoing authors he had read and admired.
She put down the first book, finally, and turned to another, but here again she was reminded of another conversation they had had, and after reading a few minutes she threw the book aside and stared off to sea, her problem all written before her again, the pros and cons, about Ballard Bainbridge. And the more she thought about it, the more sick of the whole thing she grew. The facts had grown clearer since his absence, and she began to see how her own natural conclusions and actually her own wishes and tendencies had been deliberately set aside, and his own substituted, until she was getting into the habit of no longer asking herself what she wanted to do, but trying to seek out what Ballard wanted and liked, so that he wouldn’t turn that vitriolic scorn of his toward her. She began to wonder if he hadn’t just decided to take her over and mold her until she suited his desires, and then take possession of her. Then suddenly her naturally sweet nature, and her love for things beautiful and wholesome, rose up in protest and cried out for the happy normal life she had lived before she knew him.
The morning train from the city shrilled along the distant tracks, and all at once a great longing came over her to get away from all these thoughts and the inevitable decision that was going to be demanded of her by her conscience presently, and just do as she pleased for a while. Just have an old-fashioned good time, doing any pleasant little crazy thing that came into her head.
There was that girl at the button counter whom she had wanted to bring home for the weekend. This was a good time to do it. Kent was away in New England, and not likely to return till early next week. Evalina had gone down the coast to stay with a friend over a few days. She hoped she would not be returning till after Sunday. Why not take the up-train that left for the city in about a half hour, and find that girl and persuade her to come home with her for over Sunday?
She was the more persuaded that this was the thing she wanted to do because when she had spoken of the matter to Ballard a few days ago he had laughed her to scorn. He had called her an emotional philanthropist, and had given her a string of stories about Russia and how the working people were developing there, and how things ought to be that way in this country, and would be presently when the new order of things was thoroughly established. He said the individuals were not responsible for one another. That under a truly modern regime the worthwhile people would rise and develop without assistance, and those who were not worthwhile would slough off like scum from a boiling caldron. He told her that she belonged to a higher order of being and should not waste her time and thoughts on girls who were mere button sellers. They wouldn’t be that if they were capable of being something better.
Always as he had talked she had felt in her soul that these things he was saying were not true, but it had seemed so much trouble to try to answer him. And really she hadn’t given much thought to the subject. Perhaps there was some subtle truth in all he had been saying that made it necessary for her to do some deep thinking and definite studying before she attempted to answer. Well, anyway, she would invite that girl down and get close to her if she could; try to find out just what kind of mind and soul were behind her tensely quiet personality, which she had taken such a liking to. And then if Ballard should turn up before the visit was over, he would see that she had a mind of her own and was not trying to follow the almost commands he had put upon her concerning this desire of hers to know the button girl.
So she sprang up suddenly and sought out her mother who was sitting in the house putting delicate stitches into the hems of some exquisite organdie curtains for the cottage.
“Mother, I’m going to town. Is there anything you want?”
Her mother looked up interested.
“Why, yes,” she said. “I was just wishing I had bought more ribbon for those tiebacks. Could you match it? I need five more yards of the pink, and seven of the blue.”
“Delighted, Mother. Cut of a snip of each and I’ll bring it back with me. And Mother, may I bring a friend home with me for over Sunday? Do you mind?”
“Of course not. Bring anybody you like. We’re having steak for dinner tonight, and chicken tomorrow. Who are you bringing?”
“Well, I’m not sure. Anybody I take a notion. Will that be all right?”
“Quite all right, dear.”
So Audrey got herself into a thin smart dark blue frock and caught the up-train to the city.
She matched the ribbon first so she wouldn’t forget. Then she walked around the store trying to decide what to do. Finally she marched slowly past the button counter to see if Jane Scarlett was still there, and if she looked as interesting as the first time she had seen her.
Jane was hard at work, flying about, waiting on two people at once and being very cool and businesslike about it. Audrey stood leaning against the opposite counter and watched her for a few minutes. Then when the two customers departed with their little packages and Jane was for the moment free, she saw her draw a deep, tired breath and mop her face with her handkerchief, as if she were very hot and weary. Her resolve was taken at once.
“You are entirely too impulsive!” Ballard had told her. “You fly off the tangent on an idea. You should cultivate calmness. You should deliberate before you act.”
The counsel came to her now as she started across the aisle straight toward Jane Scarlett, and she smiled at herself. She was not following Ballard Bainbridge’s advice now, and she was glad she wasn’t.
“I want a dozen of those lovely filigree buttons down there in the front of the case,” she said in a clear voice.
Jane smiled and gave her a quick look. Where had she heard that voice before? And of who did it remind her?
But she didn’t stop to answer those questions. She reached down and took out the buttons.
“They are pretty, aren’t they?” she said pleasantly.
When Jane brought back the package and handed it to her, Audrey looked her straight in the eyes.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” she said, laughing up at Jane.
Jane gave her a quick, startled look, and then a sunny smile lit up her face.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “You invited me to go home with you to your seaside cottage. You didn’t think I’d forget a person like that, did you? I had many a pleasant moment, thinking about that, imagining what it would have been like if I felt I should go. I couldn’t forget your face. I thought that was the loveliest impulsive thing anybody ever did.”
“Thank you,” said Audrey. “I’ll treasure that. But now I’ve come again, and it isn’t impulse this time, for I came to town just on purpose. You see, I’ve been thinking about you ever since, and I really want to get to know you. Will you come down to the shore with me this afternoon when the store closes, and stay over Sunday? We can get you off on the early train Monday morning so you will be here in plenty of time for the store opening. And this time my mother is expecting you. I told her I hoped I was bringing someone back with me.”
A soft pink color stole up into Jane’s white face, and her eyes glowed with appreciation.
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” she said wistfully. “I wonder if I should go! I never heard of anybody doing a beautiful thing like that for an entire stranger.”
“Well, we’re strangers to you, too,” laughed Audrey. “You might not like us at all, in which case you can take the next train back to the city, of course. But maybe you could stand us over Sunday even if you didn’t like us, because there is always the sea to look at and
a nice breeze to cool you off. Come on, do! I really want you, and I’m sure we can have a nice time together. Do you have to go home first, or could you go right from here? I can lend you a nightie and a hairbrush, or do you have to let someone know you are not coming back till Monday?”
Jane gave a quick thought to the trunk that might arrive.
“I can telephone,” she said thoughtfully.
“Well, anyway, I’ll be back here and meet you right here at five. Is that all right? Then we can catch the five-thirteen train. However, if you find you can’t go at once, why, there are two later trains. Now don’t you fail me. I’m looking forward to this. Good-bye till five!” And with a bright smile she walked away and was lost in the crowd of shoppers.
Jane, watching her away, was again dimly reminded of someone. Who was it? Just a trick of her walk, the turn of her head. Ah, now she knew. It was Kent Havenner. She was dismayed at the idea. Was she going to be obsessed by the thought of him? How ridiculous. She must remember that he was only her lawyer. She must not be so conscious of his appearance and attraction. Well, anyway, she had enough else to think about now. Was she really going to the shore for two whole days? Ought she to have allowed that nice girl to persuade her? Of course, she could still tell her at five o’clock that she had found she couldn’t make it, but she didn’t believe that she was going to. She was simply longing for a breath of sea air and a real change, and why not take it? This was a lovely girl. They must be nice people. What would her own mother have said if she were here now?
Customers were coming in now. It was the late-morning rush hour. She must forget all this and work, or she would make some foolish blunder and maybe lose her job in her childish excitement. And there was that trunk to think about, too. Perhaps she ought not to go. If the trunk came tonight she ought to be there to attend to it at once. But it would be put in her room, and she couldn’t do anything about the contents for those lawyers until Monday, anyway. Their office was closed Saturday afternoon.
So an underdrift of thought pursued her as she went on with her work. But there was a light in her eyes, a snap to every movement as the morning progressed, that made people look twice at her and say to themselves, “What an attractive girl that is!”
Chapter 16
Gradually Jane’s thoughts grew steadier. They centered on her clothes. She look down at herself, glad that she had put on her dark blue linen that morning, because the brown dress she had been wearing all the week had developed a small hole in the elbow and she hadn’t had time to mend it. The dark blue was clean, and neat. But she did wish she had something to change into for Sunday. Just a simple cotton dress such as other girls would have had for over a Sunday. She didn’t want this new friend of hers to be ashamed of her. Well, it couldn’t be helped on such short notice. But at lunchtime perhaps she could find some cheap little garments that she could carry in a paper parcel. She needed several new things badly anyway.
She hurried away to the telephone as soon as she was free for her lunch hour and called up the landlady of her rooming house. She was told that her trunk had not come yet, but it would be kept safely for her if it arrived while she was away. That off her mind she drank a hasty glass of milk at the soda fountain and purchased a small package of cracker sandwiches, which she slipped in the top of her handbag where she could pinch off a small bit now and then and slide it into her mouth without being noticed. She simply didn’t dare attempt going without food for even one meal. She mustn’t run risks of fainting.
She hurried to the bargain counters and looked them over with a glance. Yes, there was a sweet little nightie at a very low price, and not so coarse that she would be ashamed to have it seen. Just white muslin with a facing of scalloped pink. It wasn’t pretentious at all, either, and she did need one badly. Her only two were so worn that they were constantly needing slits sewed up.
As she turned away from the salesgirl with her package in her hand she saw a counter piled high with light summer dresses. There was such a pretty one of pink dimity with a lovely white collar, and a wisp of black velvet ribbon making a tiny dash of smartness at the throat! But the material was very fine; it couldn’t be that the price was that advertised on the card over the table. Or perhaps there was something the matter with it. It looked like a dress from the French department.
She stepped near and began to examine it. No, there did not seem to be any defect in it, except that it was very much mussed. And of course she would have no chance to get it ironed. Or wait! Could she possibly get the woman up in the alteration department to iron it for her in exchange for something she could do for her? The dress was really lovely. Simple and unostentatious. Could she smooth it out a little with dampened hands after she reached the shore?
A glance at the clock showed her time was almost up. Well, she would risk it somehow. There wasn’t time to go up to the alteration room and ask, and then come down and go up again. So she bought the dress and then wondered, while it was being wrapped, whether she had done a silly thing. Just to think of her being so proud that she had to have a new dress! Well, it was bought now, and it was too late to change her mind.
She received her box with a trembling hand and hurried upstairs.
“Why, sure I’ll iron that out for you,” said the girl. “Madame isn’t ready with the work I have to press, and there isn’t a thing for me to do till she is. No, she won’t make any trouble for me. How much time have you got? Five minutes? Sure, I can make a lotta difference in a cotton dress in that time.”
Her skilled fingers were unwrapping the box.
“Say, ain’t that a pretty one! And only a dollar ninety-eight! I believe I’ll run down to the basement and see if I can’t find me one as good. You got a bargain and no mistake.”
Jane stood watching the pretty little dress widen out into smoothness, and tried to realize it was her own. Maybe she had been crazy to buy it, just for one day, when she might not have another place to wear it this summer. And yet, it was simple enough to be in style another year. Well, it was hers! And she was glad!
The girl folded the dress carefully and laid it back in the box. Jane put the other package inside and tied the box up. That was a perfectly respectable package to carry, even if she didn’t have an overnight bag. She wouldn’t look peculiar carrying a suit box from a store.
She put the suit box in her locker and hurried back to her button counter, a delicate pink flush on her cheeks. Mr. Clark noticed it as he passed down the aisle.
“You’re looking better, Miss Scarlett,” he said pleasantly as he signed a return slip for a customer of hers, and it warmed Jane’s heart to think of the friendliness in his tone, so different from the severe tone he used to use toward her before she was sick that day.
Then five o’clock came rushing along, and she was so excited she could scarcely get the last things done.
She had managed to slip away long enough to buy a toothbrush and a five-cent comb, and now she felt she was thoroughly equipped for her wonderful weekend. Would it be as wonderful as she was hoping?
Just then she caught sight of her hostess standing across the aisle, looking at her with a bright smile, and Jane nodded and smiled toward her.
Briskly she finished with her last customer and came across the aisle.
“I have to go up to the cloak room for my hat,” she said. “It won’t take but a minute. There’s a chair over there by the glove counter.”
She hurried away and was back before Audrey had expected, for she was deeply interested watching the details of closing, and noticing how many salespeople were hindered by customers who came late as she had done not so long ago. They were not all as nice about it, either, as Jane had been.
Jane had found a wooden handle and fitted it to the string around her suit box, and it looked very neat and trim. They were like two shoppers going on their way to the station. Jane had a sudden overwhelming shyness upon her. It seemed somehow a great presumption to have taken this stranger girl at her word and acc
epted the invitation. But Audrey was overjoyed.
“It’s going to be fun!” she said exultantly. “I was so afraid you were going to get up some excuse and back out of coming, and I had quite set my heart upon it. I want to show you all my favorite views, and pleasant spots that I have loved since I was a child. I have a hunch you’ll understand why and enjoy them, too.”
“Of course I shall,” said Jane. “I shall just revel in them. Do you know, I haven’t been to the seashore since I was three years old and my father took me on his shoulder and walked away out into the water and let the spray dash up around my feet. I loved it. I had a little red bathing suit and I made houses and pies in the sand and built a wall with pebbles and shells. I can’t really believe I’m going to see the ocean again.”
“Oh, that’s just the way I wanted you to feel, and I’m going to enjoy my ocean all over again with you,” said Audrey. “We’ll go in bathing, too. I think we’ll get out in time for a dip before dinner.”
“I couldn’t,” said Jane wistfully. “I haven’t any bathing suit.”
“Oh, we’ve loads of bathing suits of all sorts,” said Audrey happily. “People are always coming down without any, and Mother keeps them on hand, all sizes. It spoils the fun to have somebody left out. Listen! That’s our train he’s calling. I believe we’ve caught the earlier train. That means we’ll have ten minutes more to go in bathing. Come on, quick! If we run we can get there before it starts!”
Breathless they were seated in the train at last, and there were real roses in Jane’s cheeks now.
The two girls sat talking, having a nice time getting acquainted, Audrey pointing out the simple landmarks along the way and Jane exclaiming over every new sight.