HIS AWAKENING
One evening, some weeks later, Ethel found herself alone in the office.
It was after working hours and the others had gone home. She had still
to work late at times; but her plan of wage payment was already proving
successful.
There was a new spirit in the shops. Some of the old help were coming
back for safety, and the possibility of an increased income with the
Hapwood-Diller Company looked better to the married men, at least, than
a bulky pay envelope and the danger of sudden death.
In fact, for several weeks, since Grandon Fuller had been eliminated
from the affairs of the corporation, Ethel had been able to prove her
worth to the board of directors. The business was running smoothly. The
girl had proved that sex was not an insuperable barrier in the conduct
of such a complicated business as this of which she had charge.
With the help of Benway Chase, who had been advanced to a minor
governing position in the factory, Ethel was making good. She thought
of this cheerfully on this evening as she turned to snap out the
electric light above her desk, the last thing before going out.
Her hand was stayed by the quiet opening of the office door. In the
half-shadow of the entrance stood a tall figure, the face of which she
could not see. Nor did she see but one hand when the visitor advanced
into the room and closed the door. Was it a man with only one arm?
Then she saw that the right arm was bandaged to his side by a black
silk scarf. He was in uniform.
“Mr. Barton!”
“Ethel!”
She was half way to him on flying feet when she realized what he had
called her and how he had spoken. She halted.
“Mr. Barton! How you startled me! How glad I am to see you!” she
declared. “When did you arrive?”
“Just now. You are the first person I have seen to speak to in
Mailsburg,” he said, and strode forward to greet her.
“Your poor arm!” she murmured when she took his offered left hand. Then
she looked up and saw the grim scar on his brow. It gave an entirely
different expression to his countenance. Indeed he seemed to be an
entirely different man from the Frank Barton of old. He clung to her
hand.
“You--are you back for good? We have needed you so! Now I can give the
Hapwood-Diller Company back into your hands,” she said.
“I am afraid not yet,” Frank Barton replied gently. “I have only a
short furlough--till my shoulder completely heals. I came across hoping
to be of some small help in recruiting or in Red Cross work while I am
debarred from more active service.”
“Oh, Mr. Barton! you will not really go back again?” she cried, looking
down at her hand still crushed within his own.
“Unless the war ends very soon,” he laughed. “I know that you have
been more than successful in my job. Mr. Hammerly wrote me all about
Jim Mayberry and Grandon Fuller. I would not have believed it of Jim.
You have had a hard fight here, Ethel; but you have overcome, you have
succeeded.”
She did not seek to draw away her hand, but still looked down, refusing
to meet his gaze.
“How did you leave the other Mailsburg boys? Mr. Copley, for instance?”
“Fine!” he declared heartily.
“And Miss Fuller?”
“She and her mother returned on the _Lorraine_ with me. They were
called home, it seems, by Mr. Fuller’s business troubles. They have
lost money, they tell me, and will have to give up their big house on
the Hill.”
“But that makes no difference to _you_, of course, Mr. Barton?”
“Not the least,” he returned composedly. “I am afraid I shall never
become a favorite of Miss Fuller’s. I could not stand petting while I
was in the hospital at Lovin, and it rather piqued my nurse.”
Ethel looked up at him quickly. There was that in his eyes she had
never seen before. It held her gaze captive.
His single good hand released her hand. But gently he drew her toward
him, his hand behind her shoulder. Her form yielded hesitatingly to his
urging.
“I cannot claim that patriotism brought me back for these few weeks
that I may remain, Ethel,” he went on in a voice that suddenly became
strangely husky. “I wanted to see you--face to face.”
There was an awkward pause. She felt his hand on her shoulder tremble.
“I can’t understand why it is that I never saw you in just the same
light that I have since I’ve been away. But you have been in my
thoughts continually--the girl I left behind!”
“Oh, of course--the business--” she began flutteringly.
“No, it wasn’t the business, Ethel. It was you!” he cried.
“Me?” Her breast began to heave and her face glowed. He bent low that
he might catch her eyes.
[Illustration: “You have been in my thoughts continually--the girl I
left behind.”
(_See page 268_)]
“Yes, you! I guess I was asleep, but I’m awake now. We were so close
day after day--and I was so wrapped up in business--that I didn’t
realize how much you really meant to me.”
“Oh!” It was the faintest kind of an exclamation. She wanted to speak,
but for once the “perfectly capable person” could not say a word. Her
heart was pounding.
“But it came to me all of a sudden, while I was in the hospital and
while that very fluttery Helen Fuller was trying to wait on me. Then I
realized what a big difference there was in girls--and I realized that
you were the only girl in the world for me--the only one!”
Again there was a silence. But now she raised her eyes to meet his and
they were full of glorious tenderness. He clutched her close to him
with his one good arm.
“I love you--oh, how I love you!” he murmured. “How I love you!”
“Oh, Mr. Bar----”
“Ethel!”
“Frank, then.”
She spoke his name with such sweetness that it almost overpowered him.
It was as if she had suddenly lifted the veil and was letting him look
into her very soul. He still held her close. Now he suddenly kissed
her, once, twice and again.
“Thank God!” he said reverently. “Thank God!”
In her soul she also thanked God for His goodness in bringing this
man to her. But she could not speak. She could only cling tightly to
him--and for a long while he felt her heart beating close to his own.
* * * * *
Mrs. Trevor sat in a front seat in her shabby little hat and Paisley
shawl and frankly cried outright during the ceremony.
“But they’ll make a grand couple,” she sobbed. “A grand couple--both of
’em so smart!”
Macon Hammerly occupied a seat further back. He sat with an expression
of grim pride on his face, as though he considered himself in some way
the father of this little romance.
“My young folks--both of ’em,” he whispered to a neighbor. “Sweetest
gal in the world, barrin’ none--an’ a fine fellow, too, believe me!”
Mrs. Clayton was there, of course, dressed in the best she had ever
possessed. She felt like weeping, but she did not, for was she not a
Diller, and had she not a family pride to maintain? Especially now,
when their financial affairs were so greatly changed?
“Not that I do not consider Mr. Barton a very fine man,” she confessed.
“But I feel that Ethel might do so much better in a social way if she
would only try. And really a soldier under orders has no right to
marry--especially when he has to go away so soon. Worst of all, Ethel
insists upon retaining her position as manager of the Hapwood-Diller
Company. Well, now that we have such a large amount in the business
perhaps that is as well. The shares are already at par again.”
Benway Chase was there too and sat close beside Mabel Skinner--a new
Mabel, full of ambition and who no longer chewed gum.
“Some day we’ll do it too, Mabel,” he whispered.
“Oh, you go on!” she answered, but looked immensely pleased
nevertheless.
The organ pealed forth and slowly the procession moved down the aisle
of the church, the bride leaning lightly on the groom’s good arm. They
came out into the sunshine of the late winter day and both Ethel in her
veil and Barton in his khaki were glorified by it. The automobile that
was to take them to the Clayton home was in readiness and they entered
it.
“Mine--mine at last!” he breathed, when they were safe from the eyes of
the curious crowd.
“It’s like a dream--it doesn’t seem real!” she murmured, with eyes that
spoke volumes as she beamed on him.
“Only a week before I have to go to the front again!” he groaned.
“Let’s not think about that, Frank--let’s think only about how happy we
are.”
“Just as you say, Ethel.” He drew her closer, glanced hastily around
to make sure they were not observed, and kissed her. “Wonderful, this
getting married, isn’t it? Beats business all hollow!” And he smiled.
She looked at him fondly, and suddenly a mischievous dimple showed in
each cheek. “Well, I don’t know. If you have a perfectly capable person
for an assis----”
“Ethel! You’ve sprung that on me twice since we became engaged! Now as
my wife you’ve got to cut it out.”
“What? Cut out being capable? And yet remain manager while you are
away?” And then, as she saw he was really hurt she added swiftly and
tenderly: “Forgive me, Frank, that’s a dear! I’m so happy--so furiously
happy--I don’t know what I am saying or doing!”
He held her as close as he dared in such a public place. “Mine! mine!
mine!” he murmured over and over again.
Very softly she patted the free hand of the wounded arm. Then she
suddenly pressed it to her lips and kissed it.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.