On Christmas morning as Grace was helping in the kitchen John Moore
called her on the telephone. He had moved to town the day before and
thought it would be fine if they could ride to the end of one of the
trolley lines that afternoon and take a tramp. Grace excused herself
with the plea that she already had an engagement to go to a matinee.
She sang about her work, watching the clock to mark the approach of
the hour of Trenton’s arrival. His coming would bring a crisis in
her life. The exchange of gifts in the household, the cheer all the
members of the family were trying to bring to the day and the train
of associations the festival inevitably awakened touched her; but
not as in other years. There was a difference now. She stood free,
self-assured, confidently seeing in life a great adventure.
As quickly as possible after dinner she flew to her room to dress, and
at half-past two reached Minnie Lawton’s, where she found Irene waiting.
“Tommy took Ward to The Shack from the train. They had dinner out
there. Tommy’s car’s waiting, so we’ll prance right along.”
Grace was disappointed at not seeing Trenton at Minnie’s and on the
drive to The Shack talked little.
“You either don’t want to see him at all, or you’re consumed with
anxiety,” commented Irene.
Kemp had given her a thousand dollar bond for a Christmas present. Her
acceptance of the gift she mentioned without apology. She was going to
save her money, she said in her spacious manner; a girl who didn’t put
away something for a rainy day was a fool.
The car was stopped suddenly just inside the entrance to Kemp’s farm
and Trenton smilingly opened the door.
“Merry Christmas! Tommy refused to leave the fire!--the poor old
salamander! But being of tougher fibre, here I am to meet you!”
His unexpected appearance had found Grace unprepared and she was
grateful for the moment his banter with Irene gave her to adjust
herself. He stood with head bared, the wind ruffling his hair. The
astrakan collar of his overcoat, turned up about his neck, set off
effectively his handsome head and high-bred face. He was indubitably
handsome, a man to be noticed in a crowd. Grace felt a new pride in the
knowledge that he loved her. She laughed at some mocking reply he gave
Irene and found his gaze upon her, the grave eyes all tenderness.
“For heaven’s sake, get in, Ward!” exclaimed Irene. “You’ll catch your
death standing there.”
“I’m going to live forever! Grace, are you shod for a walk? Then we’ll
let Irene drive on!”
He led the way to a point where the driveway skirted a woods-pasture,
and opened a gate. The sense of strangeness at being with him again
passed quickly as he began answering her questions about his illness.
He declared that he was too well-seasoned to be killed by a cold. And
besides he had found that he had something to live for, and that made a
difference. A year before he would have relinquished his life without
regret; now through her he had found the hope and the promise of life.
“I couldn’t bear the idea of going indoors until I’d had you all to
myself a little while.”
The trees rose tall and black against the bluest of winter skies. A
southwest wind whined fitfully among the boughs overhead. Grace felt
the power of elemental forces in her blood. She was a free spirit
in a world where the children of men were created of all time to be
free. Through what Trenton was saying and her replies this thought was
dominant. It lifted her to a mood of exaltation; it seemed that she
could touch the heavens with her finger tips. A branch of brier caught
her skirt and Trenton was quickly on his knees to free it. He looked
up into her face before he rose and she touched his cheek with her
hand,--lightly and caressingly.
“I make you my true knight,” she said. “Arise, Sir Ward!”
He rose and took her in his arms.
“Oh, my dearest! This is worth waiting for; this is worth living for!”
“You are so dear,” she whispered; “you are so wonderful!”
“Have you missed me; have you really thought of me?” he asked. “Do I
really mean something to you?”
“Not something, but everything!”
There was a sob in her throat. She clung to him, laying her cheek to
his face, calling him by endearing names that were new to her lips.
“Sometimes I doubted you, dear. When I didn’t hear from you I thought
you’d forgotten; and it hurt me so!”
“I understand how that would be,” he said tenderly. “I’d have let
you know if there’d been any way. I was afraid to ask my friends to
telegraph; it would have involved explanations.”
“I only want your forgiveness. I’ll never doubt you again, dear!”
“We must have faith in each other; we must trust each other,” he said.
“You know I’d trust you round the world.”
She clasped her arms about his neck and held him in a long kiss to seal
his faith in her. As they went on she told him about Bob Cummings and
the visit to McGovern’s.
“It was to give myself a chance to forget you. I wanted to see if I
_could_ forget you. All that day I had thought of you so steadily that
I was unhappy. I hated the thought of going home and sitting in my room
and thinking of you. Can you understand how that would be?”
As she began the story in a tone that was half self-accusation, half
apology, he teasingly pretended to make something tragic of it, but
when he saw that it was a matter of conscience with her to confess he
hastened to make it easy for her. Assured that he saw in the episode no
disloyalty she gave every humorous twist to the incident. He laughed
till the woods rang when she described the manner in which she had
slipped away from Cummings and taken the trolley home.
“I’m warned now,” he said, “but don’t you ever try running away from
me!”
“Oh, I don’t know!” she cried. “I dare you to catch me!” She vaulted
the fence into a corn field and alertly dodged him as he pursued her
over the stubble and among the shocks. She was fleet of foot and easily
outdistanced him. She ended the long chase by hiding behind a shock and
then as he blundered about seeking her, she sprang out and flung her
arms about him.
“It’s time to go to the house,” he said, glancing at the lowering
sun. “Tommy threatened to have tea. We’ll take another way back; it’s
longer!”
“Isn’t it too bad that things must end? I wish today could last
forever!”
“Let’s think of it only as the beginning! Today I refuse to think of
anything disagreeable. I only ask to be sure you belong to me.”
“Oh, dear and splendid one, you don’t question it!” A smile played
about her lips and her dark eyes were afire. “I love you!” she
whispered. “I love you! I love you!”
The path they were following paralleled the highway at this point and
as they clung to each other a man passed in the road, walking rapidly
toward town. He could hardly have failed to see their embrace.
It was John Moore, taking alone the tramp he had asked Grace to share
with him. He paused and stared, lifted his hat and hurried on.