CHAPTER XVIII
What that ride was to Shirley she hardly dared let herself thinkafterwards. Sitting cozily beside Graham in the little racing car,gliding through the better part of town where all the tall, imposinghouses slept with drawn blinds, and dust-covered shutters proclaimedthat their owners were far away from heat and toil. Out through wideroads and green-hedged lanes, where stately mansions set in flowers andmimic landscapes loomed far back from road in dignified seclusion.Passing now and then a car of people who recognized Graham and bowed inthe same deferential way as they had done in the tea-room. And all thetime his eyes were upon her, admiring, delighting; and his care abouther, solicitous for her comfort.
Once he halted the car and pointed off against the sunset, where widegables and battlemented towers stood gray amidst a setting of greenshrubbery and trees, and velvety lawns reached far, to high, trimhedges arched in places for an entrance to the beautiful estate.
"That is my home over there," he said, and watched her widening eyes."I wish I had time to take you over to-night, but I know you are tiredand ought to get home and rest. Another time we'll go around thatway." And her heart leaped up as the car went forward again. Therewas to be another time, then! Ah! But she must not allow it. Herheart was far too foolish already. Yet she would enjoy this ride, nowshe was started.
They talked about the sunset and a poem he had lately read. He toldher bits about his journey, referring to his experience at the mines,touching on some amusing incidents, sketching some of the queercharacters he had met. Once he asked her quite abruptly if she thoughther mother would be disturbed if he had a cement floor put in thebasement of the barn some time soon. He wanted to have it done beforecold weather set in, and it would dry better now in the hot days. Ofcourse, if it would be in the least disturbing to any of them it couldwait, but he wanted to store a few things there that were being takenout of the office buildings, and he thought they would keep drier ifthere was a cement floor. When she said it would not disturb any onein the least, would on the contrary be quite interesting for thechildren to watch, she was sure, he went easily back to Californiascenery and never referred to it again.
All through the ride, which was across a country she had never seenbefore, and ended at Glenside approaching from a new direction, therewas a subtle something between them, a sympathy and quick understandingas if they were comrades, almost partners in a lot of common interests.Shirley chided herself for it every time she looked up and caught hisglance, and felt the thrill of pleasure in this close companionship.Of course it was wholly in her own imagination, and due entirely to thenervous strain through which she had passed that day, she told herself.Of course, he had nothing in his mind but the most ordinary kindlydesire to give her a good time out of gratitude for what she had donefor him. But nevertheless it was sweet, and Shirley was loath tosurrender the joy of it while it lasted, dream though it might be.
It lasted all the way, even up to the very stop in front of the barnwhen he took her hand to help her out, and his fingers lingered on herswith just an instant's pressure, sending a thrill to her heart again,and almost bringing tears to her eyes. Foolishness! She wasoverwrought. It was a shame that human beings were so made that theyhad to become weak like that in a time of pleasant rejoicing.
The family came forth noisily to meet them, rejoicing openly atGraham's return, George and Harley vying with each other to shout thenews about the garden and the chickens and the dove-cote; Caroldemanding to know where was Elizabeth; and Doris earnestly looking inhis face and repeating:
"Ickle budie fy away, Mistah Gwaham. All gone! All ickle budies fyaway!"
Even Mrs. Hollister came smiling to the door to meet him, and the youngman had a warm word of hearty greeting and a hand-shake for each one.It was as if he had just got home to a place where he loved to be, andhe could not show his joy enough. Shirley stood back for the momentwatching him, admiring the way his hair waved away from his temples,thinking how handsome he looked when he smiled, wondering that he couldso easily fit himself into this group, which must in the nature ofthings be utterly different from his native element, rejoicing over thedeference he paid to her plain, quiet mother, thrilling over the kisshe gave her sweet little sister.
Then Mrs. Hollister did something perfectly unexpected anddreadful--she invited him to stay to dinner! Shirley stood back andgasped. Of course he would decline, but think of the temerity ofinviting the wealthy and cultured Mr. Graham to take dinner in his ownbarn!
Oh! But he wasn't going to decline at all. He was accepting as if itwere a great pleasure Mrs. Hollister was conferring upon him. _Sure_,he would stay! He had been wishing all the way out they would ask him.He had wondered whether he dared invite himself.
Shirley with her cheeks very red hurried in to see that the table-clothwas put on straight, and look after one or two little things; butbehold, he followed her out, and, gently insisting and assisting,literally compelled her to come and lie down on the couch while he toldthe family what she had been through that day. Shirley was so happyshe almost cried right there before them all. It was so wonderful tohave some one take care of her that way. Of course it was onlygratitude--but she had been taking care of other people so long that itcompletely broke her down to have some one take care of her.
The dinner went much more easily than she had supposed it could withthose cracked plates, and the forks from which the silver was all wornoff. Doris insisted that the guest sit next to her and butter herbread for her, and she occasionally caressed his coat-sleeve with asticky little hand, but he didn't seem to mind it in the least, andsmiled down on her in quite a brotherly way, arranging her bib when itgot tangled in her curls, and seeing that she had plenty of jelly onher bread.
It was a beautiful dinner. Mother Hollister had known what she wasabout when she selected that particular night to invite unexpectedcompany. There was stewed chicken on little round biscuits, withplenty of gravy and currant jelly, mashed potatoes, green peas, littlenew beets, and the most delicious custard pie for dessert, all rich,velvety yellow with a golden-brown top. The guest ate as if he enjoyedit, and asked for a second piece of pie, just as if he were one ofthem. It was unbelievable!
He helped clear off the table too, and insisted on Carol's giving him awiping-towel to help with the dishes. It was just like a dream.
The young man tore himself reluctantly away about nine o'clock and wenthome, but before he left he took Shirley's hand and looked into hereyes with another of those deep understanding glances, and Shirleywatched him whirling away in the moonlight, and wondered if there everwould be another day as beautiful and exciting and wonderful as thishad been, and whether she could come down to sensible, every-day livingagain by morning.
Then there was the story of the day to tell all over again after he wasgone, and put in the little family touches that had been left out whenthe guest was there, and there was: "Oh, did you notice how admiring helooked when he told mother Shirley had a remarkably keen mind?" and "Hesaid his father thought Shirley was the most unspoiled-looking girl hehad ever seen!" and a lot of other things that Shirley hadn't heardbefore.
Shirley told her mother what the senior Mr. Graham had said aboutgiving her a reward, and her mother agreed that she had done just rightin declining anything for so simple a service, but she looked afterShirley with a sigh as she went to put Doris to bed, and wondered iffor this service the poor child was to get a broken heart. It couldhardly be possible that a girl could be given much attention such asShirley had received that day, from as attractive a young man asGraham, without feeling it keenly not to have it continue. And of_course_ it was out of the question that it should continue. Mrs.Hollister decided that she had done wrong to invite the young man tostay to supper, and resolved never to offend in that way again. It wasa wrong to Shirley to put him on so intimate a footing in thehousehold, and it could not but bring her sadness. He was a mostunusual young man to have even wanted to stay, but one must not take
that for more than a passing whim, and Shirley must be protected at allhazards.
"Now," said the elder Graham the next morning, when the business of theday was well under way and he had time to send for his son to come intohis office, "now, I want you to tell me all about that little girl, andwhat you think we ought to give her. What did she mean by'obligations' yesterday? Have you been doing anything for her, son? Imeant to ask you last night, but you came home so late I couldn't situp."
And then Sidney Graham told his father the whole story. It wasdifferent from telling his mother. He knew no barn would have thepower to prejudice his father.
"And you say that girl lives in the old barn!" exclaimed the fatherwhen the story was finished. "Why, the nervy little kid! And shelooks as if she came out of a bandbox! Well, she's a bully little girland no mistake! Well, now, son, what can we do for her? We ought todo something pretty nice. You see it wasn't just the money we mighthave lost. That would have been a mere trifle beside getting all thoseother folks balled up in the mess. Why, I'd have given every cent Iown before I'd have had Fuller and Browning and Barnard and Wilts getentangled. I tell you, son, it was a great escape!"
"Yes, father, and it was a great lesson for me. I'll never be buncoedas easily again. But about Miss Hollister, I don't know what to say.She's very proud and sensitive. I had an awful time doing the littlethings I just had to do to that barn without her suspecting I was doingit especially for her. Father, you ought to go out there and meet thefamily; then you'd understand. They're not ordinary people. Theirfather was a college professor and wrote things. They're culturedpeople."
"Well, I want to meet them. Why don't we go out there and call to-day?I think they must be worth knowing."
So late that afternoon the father and son rode out to Glenside, andwhen Shirley and George reached home they found the car standing infront of their place, and the Grahams comfortably seated in the greatopen doorway, enjoying the late afternoon breeze, and seeminglyperfectly at home in their own barn.
"I'm not going to swarm here every day, Miss Shirley," said the son,rising and coming out to meet her. "You see father hadn't heard aboutthe transformation of the old barn, and the minute I told him about ithe had to come right out and see it."
"Yes," said the father, smiling contentedly, "I had to come and seewhat you'd done out here. I've played in the hay up in that loft manya day in my time, and I love the old barn. It's great to see it allfixed up so cozy. But we're going home now and let you have yourdinner. We just waited to say 'Howdy' to you before we left."
They stayed a few minutes longer, however, and the senior Graham talkedwith Shirley while he held Doris on his knee and stroked her silkyhair, and she nestled in his arms quite content.
Then, although young Graham was quite loath to leave so soon, theywent, for he could not in conscience, expect an invitation to dinnertwo days in succession.
They rode away into the sunset, going across country to their homewithout going back to town, and Doris, as she stood with the otherswatching them away, murmured softly:
"Nice favver-man! Nice Gwaham favver man!"
The "nice-Graham-father-man" was at that moment remarking to his son invery decided tones, as he turned to get a last glimpse of the old barn:
"That old barn door ought to come down right away, Sid, and a nice bigold-fashioned door with glass around the sides made to fill the space.That door is an eyesore on the place, and they need a piazza. Peoplelike those can't live with a great door like that to open and shutevery day."
"Yes, father, I've thought of that, but I don't just know how to manageit. You see they're not objects of charity. I've been thinking aboutsome way to fix up a heating arrangement without hurting theirfeelings, so they could stay there all winter. I know they hate to goback to the city, and they're only paying ten dollars a month. It'sall they can afford. What could they get in the city for that?"
"Great Scott! A girl like that living in a house she could get for tendollars, when some of these feather-brained baby-dolls we know can'tget on with less than three or four houses that cost from fifty to ahundred thousand dollars apiece! Say, son, that's a peach of a girl,do you know it? A peach of a girl! I've been talking with her, andshe has a very superior mind."
"I know she has, father," answered the son humbly.
"I say, Sid, why don't you marry her? That would solve the wholeproblem. Then you could fix up the old barn into a regular house forher folks."
"Well, father, that's just what I've made up my mind to do--if she'llhave me," said the son with a gleam of triumph in his eyes.
"Bully for you, Sid! Bully for you!" and the father gave his son'sbroad shoulder a resounding slap. "Why, Sid, I didn't think you hadthat much sense. Your mother gave me to understand that you werephilandering around with that dolly-faced Harriet Hale, and I couldn'tsee what you saw in her. But if you mean it, son, I'm with you everytime. That girl's a peach, and you couldn't get a finer if yousearched the world over."
"Yes, I'm afraid mother's got her heart set on Harriet Hale," said theson dubiously, "but I can't see it that way."
"H'm! Your mother likes show," sighed the father comically, "but she'sgot a good heart, and she'll bowl over all right and make the best ofit. You know neither your mother nor I were such high and mightieswhen we were young, and _we_ married for _love_. But now, if youreally mean business, I don't see why we can't do something right away.When does that girl have her vacation? Of course she gets onesometime. Why couldn't your mother just invite the whole family tooccupy the shore cottage for a little while,--get up some excuse orother,--ask 'em to take care of it? You know it's lying idle all thissummer, and two servants down there growing fat with nothing to do. Wemight ship Elizabeth down there and let 'em be company for her. Theyseem like a fine set of children. It would do Elizabeth good to knowthem."
"Oh, she's crazy about them. She's been out a number of times with me,and don't you remember she had Carol out to stay with her?"
"Was that the black-eyed, sensible girl? Well, I declare! I didn'trecognize her. She was all dolled up out at our house. I supposeElizabeth loaned 'em to her, eh? Well, I'm glad. She's got sense,too. That's the kind of people I like my children to know. Now ifthat vacation could only be arranged to come when your mother and Itake that Western trip, why, it would be just the thing for Elizabeth,work right all around. Now, the thing for you to do is to find outabout that vacation, and begin to work things. Then you could haveeverything all planned, and rush the work so it would be done by thetime they came back."
So the two conspirators plotted, while all unconscious of theirinterest Shirley was trying to get herself in hand and not think howGraham's eyes had looked when he said good-night to her.