The sun came out of the mists as they set off for town with the snow
flung up by the rear wheels of the car whirling behind in a miniature
storm.
“You’re not afraid of a little speed?”
“Not with you!” she answered happily. “Was that the right answer?”
“One hundred per cent correct! Look at the smoke from that farmer’s
chimney--it goes up as straight as a column. Not a breath of air!”
“It’s a dear good old world,” she said, her eyes reflecting her
enjoyment of the swift rush between the long stretches of white level
fields broken by patches of woodland.
“What’s the dearest thing in all the world?” he demanded.
“You!” she replied.
“Wrong that time! It’s you!”
“I wonder how many lovers have said just that to each other?”
“Thousands--billions, no doubt. But that doesn’t matter. It never was
as true of the others as it is of us.”
“We’re not conceited or anything!”
“No; just happy! Honestly and truly, are _you_ happy?”
“Enormously! Are you?”
“Right up to the perishing point!”
“Then _why_ are you happy?”
“Because the dearest girl in the world loves me!”
They laughed their delight in this interchange, stopped to extricate
from its difficulties a car which, unprovided with skid-chains,
had landed in a ditch, and hurried on to make up for lost time. It
was with a sense of disillusionment that Grace saw the city, as it
seemed, coming out to meet her. Trenton was talking of his day’s
appointments, of the men he expected to see. Grace’s thoughts flew
ahead to the store, where she would meet Irene--meet her friend with a
new self-consciousness--and of the deceptions and evasions that would
be necessary to explain her night’s absence at home. But these thoughts
were fleeting. She was happy in the confidence that the man beside her
truly loved her and her love for him, which she had so often challenged
and questioned even after she first encouraged him to think she cared,
was no longer a matter for debate. She assured herself that there was
nothing base in the relationship into which she had entered with him;
that the attraction had been of the mind and spirit first of all. She
swiftly reviewed all the points upon which her justification rested,
and was satisfied that they stood the test of the morning sunlight and
the clean wholesome air. She had no regrets; no misgivings. She had
already convinced herself that their love was sufficient in itself.
He turned from time to time to smile at her and took her hand that it
might rest beneath his on the wheel.
“We haven’t settled yet when I’m to see you again. I want every minute
you can give. Can’t we have dinner together tonight?”
“I wish we could, but I’ve got to go home for supper.”
“But I can see you afterwards,--please!”
“I could go to Miss Lawton’s where we met the first time. I think I can
fix it with Minnie.”
“Then that’s settled! I understand perfectly that you have your family
to consider and we’ve got to remember there are people in the world
who haven’t much to do but pry into other people’s business. They’re a
large and mischievous phalanx. For the present we’ve got to be careful.”
She was rather relieved that he did not amplify the suggestive “for the
present.” He was thinking, she assumed, of his wife and the freedom
which he had intimated would be his for the asking. But marriage was no
assurance of the perpetuation of love; it was a convention, no doubt
desirable and necessary for society’s protection; but Grace was in a
mood to enjoy her sense of being in rebellion against society, that
intangible “they” which, she had brought herself to believe, quite
ignorantly established laws and in the light of them appraised and
condemned human frailty.
She derived the greatest comfort from this idea; it encouraged and
strengthened her belief that she was an independent unit of the social
order. If her relationship with Trenton became known she would forfeit
the love and confidence of her family and many prized friendships.
But his love would be compensation for anything she might lose in the
eyes of people she felt to be hopelessly shackled to old notions of
rectitude and chastity with which she no longer felt any concern. It
would be necessary, of course, to maintain secrecy; but it was no one’s
business what she did with her life.
“Last chance for a kiss,” Trenton exclaimed, slipping his arm about her
as they reached the Meridian street bridge.
She asked him to let her out at the soldiers’ monument to avoid the
possibility of being inspected by questioning eyes at Shipley’s.
Trenton was going at once to Kemp’s house to make sure Tommy was all
right; he meant to have it out with Tommy about his drinking.
“Tell your father I’d like to see him tomorrow at two o’clock. Yes; I
have the address.”
With his good-bye ringing in her ears she walked the few remaining
blocks to the store.