UNRAVELING TANGLED THREADS
Sunday morning was glorious. There had been a light fall of snow and
every tree and shrub was in feathery whiteness, while the sky was as
blue as June. The sun came up through the long levels of yellow light
more golden than ever until every branch and twig shimmered in
iridescent hues.
Lilian bathed and dressed herself, now and then leaning over her mother
who seemed to breathe regularly, but the face was thin and pallid, and
the soft hair seemed to have whitened in these few days. She bent over
and kissed the cool forehead.
Miss Arran looked in.
"Oh, is it all right? I left you at two; there really was no need of
watches as I was just across the hall, but I think you confine yourself
too closely. Now you must go down and take a walk on the porch. The
morning air has a positive balminess in it. It really should be
Christmas morning with the angels singing for very joy."
Lilian looked undecided. Yet the very thought of sunshine and fresh air
was reviving.
"I will call you the moment she wakes," said Miss Arran, and the girl
went.
Oh, how delightful it was! She drew in long breaths and gave a great,
fervent thanksgiving. Yes, it was good to live, to be able to work, to
have a purpose in life and see the way to attain it.
She went in presently. Her mother had just wakened. She bathed her face
and hands with fragrant water, brushed her hair and put on a pretty
dressing sacque of her own. Then she had some breakfast which she
appeared to enjoy.
"I feel so drowsy," she said. "I am so comfortable and at ease."
That was much to be thankful for.
"Lilian will you do me a favor this morning," began Mrs. Barrington in
her most persuasive voice. "I want you to go to church with me. The
Crawford family will be there to give thanks. And we have learned that
your mother was in the same fearful accident and her escape was a
marvel. All these years Mrs. Crawford has been an invalid but she has
borne her suffering with exemplary patience. Dr. Kendricks went out at
once but there was scarcely any hope of her living then. Your mother
spoke of a beautiful woman they thought dying or dead--do you
remember?"
"Oh, yes. A woman with such lovely golden hair. Miss Zaidee's is
exquisite, too. Yes, I will go. I should like to see her. How strange it
all is! And my own mother, it seems, was among the killed."
"It was terrible. Of course your mother going away so soon did not hear
all of it. Yes, I want you to go with me."
Dr. Kendricks made his visit and saw there was little change. Several of
the girls were going and they started early. Mrs. Barrington kept two
pews on one side of the church, which was all in Christmas attire with
wreaths of holly here and there, and clusters of golden flowers dried in
their natural colors. The altar was fragrant with real blossoms and to
Lilian there came a deeper emotion than reverence; something she had
never experienced before. She who had no joy of her very own must
rejoice in that of others and search out the blessings of the spirit,
find a way into the other kingdom, where the things one hungers and
longs for are laid up against the time one is fitted for the pure and
high enjoyment of them. The strength of the steadfast waiting, the lives
that touched with near or remote sympathy and held God's promise for
today, for all time. There was something kept for those who wearied
not, that was bestowed when the soul had come to understand the true
source of beneficent living.
She had been listening to the beautiful music and now there was a sudden
hush while several of the congregation entered. There were Major and
Mrs. Crawford, and certainly curious eyes might be pardoned as she
walked up the aisle with a graceful step. Oh, yes, she _was_ a lovely
woman, as in sweet humility and reverence she bowed her head.
Then followed Zay and the fine looking midshipman who showed his pride
in every line. What it must be to have a brother like that! Yet there
was no envy in Lilian's soul, since all these joys and privileges were
far beyond her. But she had a quick, responsive nature when anything
really touched her, and she joyed sincerely in this other's joy.
The service was gracious and comforting even to her. Hundreds of years
ago ignorant shepherds sat watching their flocks all the long starlight
night, and then the song of the angels, the great promise, the new era,
the blessedness for the whole world that each might take his share.
And the reverent prayer of this, Thy servant, delivered from her bodily
illness who desired to return thanks in the presence of all Thy people
touched her heart to tears, and she joined in it fervently.
The class did not stay for the whole service. Lilian hurried home, glad
to escape the chatter of the curious. Her mother had just roused.
"It was such a sweet, comforting service. I wish you could have heard
it, and--" would she understand about Mrs. Crawford--her "beautiful
woman?"
"I'm afraid when you leave me. Don't go away again," and the thin lips
quivered.
"But you have slept all the time, and you _do_ feel better."
"If I could move about--" fretfully.
"Can I help?"
"Oh, no. I want to do it myself, but my limbs won't stir. Is it spring,
that the sun shines so?"
"No, dear. Tomorrow will be Christmas."
"Do you remember Sally? She had a party you know and you wouldn't go--"
"But I was only a little girl, a school girl, and they were young
ladies."
"Lilian do you mean never to have a lover? It is the happiest time for a
girl. He takes you out and buys you pretty little things. He gave me
that work box on Christmas, and a ring afterward. I don't see how God
could have let him get killed--we were so happy. He wasn't your father.
Both his babies died. Do you suppose he found them in heaven?"
Mrs. Boyd began to cry. Her mind wandered considerably now. Lilian tried
to read to her but she broke in with irrelevant snatches that had been
pleasures to her long ago until she dropped off to sleep again.
There was a rather joyous time in the morning. Mrs. Barrington
remembered her household and the girls who had been compelled to stay.
Lilian gave thanks for two beautiful volumes of poetry. Miss Arran
remembered her with a box of very nice stationery, Mrs. Dane with some
handkerchiefs, Mrs. Barrington went to the dinner at Crawford House, but
the girls complained of the dullness. Lilian was so used to being
sufficient for herself, so fond of reading that the day passed even if
it had no Christmas joys.
It was very happy at Crawford House. Vincent had arrived in the morning
and added to their joy. Zay was bright and animated and the three
planned many delights for the future.
"There ought to be some young people," said the mother, "but we couldn't
have both and yours will come later on. I wanted these dear old friends
who have been such a comfort in my hard and trying years and then I
shall begin over with you and be young again."
"And I was proud enough when I found I was put on the list for a three
years' cruise," declared Willard, "and now the thought quite unmans me.
But we may stop at some place where you can all take a flying trip."
"It can't be next summer," said Vincent. "I have engaged them for my
grand occasion. Next June I shall be a full fledged soldier and there
will be the ball in which Zay will shine a star of the first magnitude."
"And set the day after," laughed the girl. "Oh, Phil Rosewald wants to
come and half a dozen others, but I suppose you can't invite so many
sisters and cousins."
Vincent drew his face in an amusing half frown. "Is Phil as funny as
ever? Doesn't she sometimes jump over the traces? And how about the
lovers? I think she had them ever since she stepped out of the cradle."
"In the multitude there is safety," said their father.
Mrs. Barrington could not keep her thoughts from the lonely girl
watching beside the dying woman. Oh, how would she get to her true place
in the bright happy group. For years she had been as dead to them. Would
Zay, who had garnered all the love and tenderness in her own girlish
heart, be willing to share it?
Dr. Kendricks drew her a little aside. "I can't stand it!" he exclaimed,
"I couldn't break in upon this blessed day, but the thought of Miss Boyd
has haunted me every moment. I must tell the Major tomorrow morning. Oh,
how do you suppose he will take it? Mrs. Boyd is no longer reliable, her
mind fails hourly. But out of the mouth of two or three witnesses
everything shall be established. Hasn't Miss Boyd any curiosity?"
"Very little. She thinks her mother is dead and has built no hopes about
a father and she relies upon my word. She has looked forward to caring
for herself so long that I hardly see how she will give it up. At first
she will not be glad. If the Major should doubt the story--"
"The likeness grows upon one. I saw it so plainly this morning. She is
more like her mother than Zay and will make a fine looking woman. And I
have seen it in Mrs. Crawford a dozen times today. I no longer doubt and
I feel like an arch conspirator."
Mrs. Crawford was enjoying herself keenly, though the nurse insisted she
must take to the sofa and let others do the talking. The children
gathered about her, full of eager love. Was there in the whole wide
world a happier mother? And yet--far away another darling lay in a
lonesome grave. She had ceased to speak of it and her husband thought
she had outlived the sorrow. In a certain way she had.
Then the guests prepared to depart. At nine Vincent was to take his
train.
"But you and father can run up now and then. They will be glad to see
him. They are always proud of their old graduates, especially those who
have distinguished themselves. But, I'm glad you didn't have to make a
present of your leg to the country."
"It did come pretty near it. Ah, we have a great many mercies to be
thankful for. It seems as if there was nothing more to ask except that
you boys should keep in the right way."
"As we shall try to," Willard returned and Vincent's eyes gave a
similar promise as he kissed his mother good-by.
"Put on your wraps and come along with us Zay," said Willard. "You must
need an airing by this time."
Zay was nothing loth. They talked of next summer, the elder brother
regretting that he would be in Japan in all probability. Then they said
a tender good-by, and on the homeward way Willard proposed a call on the
Norton's where there were two charming girls and a few other guests who
were having a little dance.
"Oh, yes," assented the young midshipman. "For you see, girls will be
quite out of my line the next three years. I shall sigh for their charms
and return a critical and opinionated bachelor, judging all girls by the
novels I have read in my solitude."
"I think I'll make you out a list," said Eva Norton, laughingly.
"Do, and send it in a letter with your approval and disapproval of the
characters so I shall know what to copy and what to avoid.
"And now you must have one dance."
Zay thought it rather late, but her brother overruled and they had a
merry time, but it was midnight before they returned.
Major Crawford and his wife often had their breakfast in the dainty
sitting room up stairs. Zay just glanced in to bid them good-morning as
Willard was impatiently calling her down. She had not slept very well
and had a headache, and she would not go out for a walk with him. She
heard her father reading the paper aloud, so she went to her room and
dropped on the bed again. Her throat began to feel sore and swollen.
When she heard the doctor's voice in the hall she leaned over the
banister and said: "Dr. Kendricks will you come up here a minute or
two?"
"Yes, yes, what now? Did you feast too high yesterday?"
"I don't know. I feel sick all over. First I'm all of a shiver and then
so hot and my head aches."
"Well, we must inquire into it. Yes, you are flushed and getting
excited. I think it is a feverish cold and some indigestion. We'll soon
fix that all right. Luckily I brought my medicine chest along," and he
laughed.
"Doctor, you don't think--are there any more cases of scarlet fever?"
and her voice was tremulous.
"Scarlet fever! Don't get any such nonsense in your curly pate. No,
there's not another case and the little girl is recovering rapidly. Why
you've not been even exposed to it and yours is just a cold. Now,
alternate with these and I'll be in again this afternoon. But, I'd stay
in bed and rest."
She slipped into a soft white wrapper, and Katy came in to straighten up
her room.
"You were out late last night, Miss Zay and you've caught a cold."
"But, I so rarely have a cold."
"It sounds in your voice. Keep wrapped up good and warm. There's nothing
like heat to drive out those pernickety colds and I wish you'd drink
some hot water."
"I'll see by and by."
She turned her hot throbbing temple over on the pillow. If only she
could shut out the sight and the smell of the clairvoyant's room, and
that boy grasping for breath. It must have been something awful for them
both to die almost together and be shut up at once in their coffins; and
then a horror seized her. She had always been so well and joyous. Oh,
what if she should die? It would kill her mother. Girls were more to
their mothers; business called so many of the boys away.
She began to cry. The doctor and her father went down stairs. She
thought her mother would come in and tried to calm the sort of
hysterical mood. What _were_ they talking about so long? Was she worse
than the doctor had admitted? She heard her father's voice rise as if in
a passion which his visitor seemed trying to subdue. Oh, what _had_
happened?
Her mother entered the room very pale and with frightened eyes.
"Oh, Zay," she cried, dropping on the side of the bed, "have you any
idea what your father and Doctor Kendricks are quarreling about? Your
father is not easily excited--he used to be very quick in temper but he
has grown so gentle and considerate. But it is something that rouses him
to white heat. We have always been such dear friends since that time of
the great sorrow, and it is not about the boys, I know. Oh, Zay, what is
the matter? You look ill--you must have a fever, your eyes show it."
"The doctor called it a feverish cold. He is coming again this
afternoon." She was half listening to the tumult in the library, and she
shook as if in an ague.
"Oh, there they go again. Why--they are going out," and she went to the
hall to call to her husband but the door was flung to as if in a
passion. Then someone entered and ran lightly upstairs.
"Mother, Zay, what is the row about? Father looks as if he--but he never
_does_ drink and they are going to Mrs. Barrington's."
Zay buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
"Oh, mother, what is it? Has Vin met with some accident? And we were so
happy yesterday! Do you remember the old story of the gods being jealous
of the happiness of mortals? There was nothing to wish for."
"I do not know what it is, but it has excited your father desperately
and I am afraid Zay is going to be ill."
"My dear Zay--I should not have kept you out so late last night. We
called at the Norton's and had a little dance. Don't you need the
doctor--"
"He was in. He is coming this afternoon. Oh, my head aches--"
"And you look fit to drop, mother. Let me call the nurse."
Freida gently impelled Mrs. Crawford to her own room and laid her on the
lounge, making passes over her brow and chafing her cold hands.
"Now, lie still and get tranquil, and I will see to the young lady."
"I would like to put you in a hot bath with plenty of salt, and then
give you a good rub. Why, you have gone all to pieces, as you Americans
say."
Zaidee made no demur. Willard went and read aloud to his mother. The
girl was bathed and rubbed and rolled in a blanket. She felt real
drowsy, but the thought haunted her--what if Louie Howe had been taken
ill with scarlet fever and they had sent word to Mrs. Barrington? Then
Louie must have confessed and the three would be implicated. No wonder
her father was angry!
She tossed around for awhile but, in spite, of her mental excitement she
fell asleep. The luncheon hour passed; no one wanted to eat. Then Major
Crawford let himself in with his latchkey. He was very pale now.
"Oh, is there bad news?" asked Willard.
"It depends on--how your mother takes it. Such a strange story--I can
hardly credit it myself. Do not let us be interrupted unless I have to
summon someone," and he passed on his way upstairs.