Laurie Shafton had caught Lynn as she came down the stairs with a bit
of sewing in her hand to give Naomi a direction from her mother, and had
begged her to come out on the porch and talk to him. He pleaded that
he was lonesome, and that it was her duty as hostess to amuse him for a
while.
Lynn had no relish for talking with the guest. Her heart was too sore
to care to talk with any one. But her innate courtesy, and natural
gentleness finally yielded to his pleading, for Laurie had put on a
humility that was almost becoming, and made her seem really rude to
refuse.
She made him sit down in the hammock at the far end, however, and
insisted on herself taking the little rocker quite near the front door.
She knew her father would soon be returning from some parish calls and
would relieve her, so she settled herself with the bit of linen she was
hemstitching and prepared to make the best of it.
“It's a shame my car is out of commission yet,” began Laurie settling
back in the hammock and by some strange miracle refraining from lighting
a cigarette. It wouldn't have entered his head that Lynn would have
minded. He didn't know any girls objected to smoking. But this girl
interested him strangely. He wasn't at all sure but it was a case of
love at first sight. He had always been looking for that to happen to
him. He hoped it had. It would be such a delightful experience. He had
tried most of the other kinds.
“Yes, it is too bad for you to be held up in your journey this way,”
sympathized Lynn heartily, “but father says the blacksmith is going
to fix you up by to-morrow he hopes. Those bearings will likely come
to-night.”
“Oh, but it has been a dandy experience. I'm certainly glad it happened.
Think what I should have missed all my life, not knowing _you_!”
He paused and looked soulfully at Lynn waiting for an appreciative
glance from her fully occupied eyes, but Lynn seemed to have missed the
point entirely:
“I should think you might have well afforded to lose the experience of
being held up in a dull little town that couldn't possibly be of the
slightest interest to you,” she said dryly, with the obvious idea of
making talk.
“Oh, but I think it is charming,” he said lightly! “I hadn't an idea
there was such a place in the world as this. It's ideal, don't you know,
so secluded and absolutely restful. I'm having a dandy time, and you
people have been just wonderful to me. I think I shall come back often
if you'll let me.”
“I can't imagine your enjoying it,” said Lynn looking at him keenly, “It
must be so utterly apart from your customary life. It must seem quite
crude and almost uncivilized to you.”
“That's just it, it's so charmingly quaint. I'm bored to death with life
as I'm used to it. I'm always seeking for a new sensation, and I seem to
have lighted on it here all unexpectedly. I certainly hope my car will
be fixed by morning. If it isn't I'll telegraph for my man and have him
bring down some bearings in one of the other cars and fix me up. I'm
determined to take you around a bit and have you show me the country. I
know it would be great under your guidance.”
“Thank you,” said Lynn coolly, “But I haven't much time for pleasuring
just now, and you will be wanting to go on your way--”
He flushed with annoyance. He was not accustomed to being baffled in
this way by any girl, but he had sense enough to know that only by
patience and humility could he win any notice from her.
“Oh, I shall want to linger a bit and let this doctor finish up this
ankle of mine. It isn't fair to go away to another doctor before I'm on
my feet again.”
He thought she looked annoyed, but she did not answer.
“Did you ever ride in a racer?” he asked suddenly, “I'll teach you to
drive. Would you like that?”
“Thank you,” she said pleasantly, “but that wouldn't be necessary, I
know how to drive.”
He almost thought there was a twinkle of mischief in her eye:
“You know how to drive! But you haven't a car? Oh, I suppose that young
Carter taught you to drive his,” he said with chagrin. He was growing
angry. He began to suspect her of playing with him. After all, even if
she was engaged to that chap, he had gone off with Opal quite willingly
it would appear. Why should he and she not have a little fling?
“No,” said Marilyn, “Mr. Carter did not have a car until he went away
from Sabbath Valley. I learned while I was in college.”
“Oh, you've been to college!” the young man sat up with interest, “I
thought there was something too sophisticated about you to have come
out of a place like this. You had a car while you were in college I
suppose.”.
Lynn's eyes were dancing:
“Why didn't you say 'dump' like this? That's what your tone said,” she
laughed, “and only a minute ago you were saying how charming it was. No,
I had no car in college, I was--” But he interrupted her eagerly:
“Now, you are misunderstanding me on purpose,” he declared in a hurt
tone. “I think this is an ideal spot off in the hills this way, the
quaintest little Utopia in the world, but of course you know you haven't
the air of one who had never been out of the hills, and the sweet
sheltered atmosphere of this village. Tell me, when and where did you
drive a car, and I'll see if I can't give you one better for a joy
ride.”
Lynn looked up placidly and smiled:
“In New York,” she said quietly, “at the beginning of the war, and
afterward in France.”
Laurie Shafton sat up excitedly, the color flushing into his handsome
face:
“Were you in France?” he said admiringly, “Well, I might have known. I
saw there was something different about you. Y. M., I suppose?”
“No,” said Lynn, “Salvation Army. My father has been a friend of the
Commander's all his life. She knew, that we believed in all their
principles. There were only a very few outsiders, those whom they knew
well, allowed to go with them. I was one.”
“Well,” said Laurie, eyeing her almost embarrassedly, “You girls made
a great name for yourselves with your doughnuts and your pies. The only
thing I had against you was that you didn't treat us officers always the
way we ought to have been treated. But I suppose there were individual
exceptions. I went into a hut one night and tried to get some cigarettes
and they wouldn't let me have any.”
“No, we didn't sell cigarettes,” said Lynn with satisfaction, “That
wasn't what we were there for. We had a few for the wounded and dying
who were used to them and needed them of course, but we didn't sell
them.”
“And then I tried to get some doughnuts and coffee, but would you
believe it, they wouldn't let me have any till all the fellows in
line had been served. They said I had to take my turn! They were quite
insulting about it! Of course they did good, but they ought to have been
made to understand that they couldn't treat United States Officers that
way!”
“Why not? Were you any better than any of the soldiers?” she asked
eyeing him calmly, and somehow he seemed to feel smaller than his normal
estimate of himself.
“An _officer?_” he said with a contemptuous haughty light in his eye.
“What is an officer but the servant of his men?” asked Lynn. “Would you
_want_ to eat before them when they had stood hours in line waiting?
They who had all the hard work and none of the honors?”
Laurie's cheeks were flushed and his eyes angry:
“That's rot!” he said rudely, “Where did you get it? The officers were
picked from the cream of the land. They represent the great Nation. An
insult to them is an insult to the Nation--!”
Lynn began to smile impudently--and her eyes were dancing again.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Shafton, you must not forget I was there. I knew
both officers and men. I admit that some of the officers were princely,
fit men to represent a great Christian Nation, but some of them again
were well--the scum of the earth, rather than the cream. Mr. Shafton
it does not make a man better than his fellows to be an officer, and it
does not make him fit to be an officer just because his father is able
to buy him a commission.”
Laurie flushed angrily again:
“My father did not buy me a commission!” he said indignantly, “I went to
a training camp and won it.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Shafton, I meant nothing personal, but I
certainly had no use for an officer who came bustling in on those long
lines of weary soul-sick boys just back from the front, and perhaps off
again that night, and tried to get ahead of them in line. However, let's
talk of something else. Were you ever up around Dead Man's Curve? What
division were you in?”
Laurie let his anger die out and answered her questions. For a few
minutes they held quite an animated conversation about France and the
various phases of the war. Laurie had been in air service. One could
see just how handsome he must have looked in his uniform. One would know
also that he would be brave and reckless. It was written all over his
face and in his very attitude. He showed her his “croix de guerre.”
“Mark was taken prisoner by the Germans,” she said sadly as she handed
it back, her eyes dreamy and faraway, then suddenly seeming to realize
that she had spoken her thoughts aloud she flushed and hurried on to
other experiences during the war, but she talked abstractedly, as one
whose thoughts had suddenly been diverted. The young man watched her
baffled:
“You seem so aloof,” he said all at once watching her as she sewed away
on the bit of linen, “You seem almost as if you--well--_despised me_.
Excuse me if I say that it's a rather new experience. People in my world
don't act that way to me, really they don't. And you don't even know who
I am nor anything about me. Do you think that's quite fair?”
Lynn looked at him with suddenly arrested attention:
“I'm sorry,” she said, “I didn't mean to be rude. But possibly you've
come to the heart of the matter. I am not of your world. You know
there's a great deal in not being able to get another's point of view.
I hope I haven't done you an injustice. I haven't meant to. But you're
wrong in saying I don't know who you are or anything about you. You are
the son of William J. Shafton--the only son, isn't that so? Then you
are the one I mean. There can't be any mistake. And I do know something
about you. In fact I've been very angry at you, and wished I might meet
you and tell you what I thought of you.”
“You don't say!” said Laurie getting up excitedly and moving over to
a chair next to hers regardless of his lame ankle, “This certainly is
interesting! What the deuce have I been doing to get myself in your bad
graces? I better repent at once before I hear what it is?”
“You are the one who owns the block of warehouses down on ---- street
and won't sell at any price to give the little children in all that
region a place to get a bit of fresh air, the grass and a view of the
sky. You are the one who won't pull down your old buildings and try new
and improved ways of housing the poor around there so that they can grow
up decently clean and healthy and have a little chance in this world.
Just because you can't have as many apartments and get as much money
from your investment you let the little children crowd together in rooms
that aren't fit for the pigs to live in, they are so dark and airless,
and crowded already. Oh, I know you keep within the law! You just skin
through without breaking it, but you won't help a little bit, you won't
even let your property help if someone else is willing to take the
bother! Oh, I've been so boiling at you ever since I heard your name
that I couldn't hardly keep my tongue still, to think of that great
beautiful car out there and how much it must have cost, and to hear you
speak of one of your other cars as if you had millions of them, and to
think of little Carmela living down in the basement room of Number 18
in your block, growing whiter and whiter every day, with her great blue
eyes and her soft fine wavy hair, and that hungry eager look in her
face. And her mother, sewing, sewing, all day long at the little cellar
window, and going blind because you won't put in a bigger one; sewing on
coarse dark vests, putting in pockets and buttonholes for a living for
her and Carmela, and you grinding her down and running around in cars
like that and taking it out of little Carmela, and little Carmela's
mother! Oh! How can I help feeling aloof from a person like that?”
Laurie sat up astonished watching her:
“Why, my dear girl!” he exclaimed, “Do you know what you're talking
about? Do you realize that it would take a mint of money to do all the
fool things that these silly reformers are always putting up to you?
My lawyer looks after all those matters. Of course I know nothing about
it--!”
“Well, you _ought_ to know,” said Lynn excitedly, “Does the money belong
to your lawyer? Isn't it yours to be responsible for? Well, then if you
are stealing some of it out of little Carmela and a lot of other little
children and their mothers and fathers oughtn't you to know? Is your
lawyer going to take the responsibility about it in the kingdom of
heaven I should like to know? Can he stand up in the judgment day
and exempt you by saying that he had to do the best he could for your
property because you required it of him? Excuse me for getting so
excited, but I love little Carmela. I went to see her a great deal last
winter when I was in New York taking my senior year at the University.
And I can't help telling you the truth about it. I don't suppose you'll
do anything about it, but at least you ought to know! And _I'm not your
dear girl, either!_”
Marilyn rose suddenly from her chair, and stood facing him with blazing
eyes and cheeks that were aflame. It was a revelation to the worldly
wise young man that a saint so sweet could blossom suddenly into a
beautiful and furious woman. It seemed unreal to find this wonderful,
unique, excitable young woman with ideas in such a quiet secluded spot
of the earth. Decidedly she had ideas.
“Excuse me,” he said, and rose also, an almost deprecatory air upon him,
“I assure you I meant nothing out of the way, Miss Severn. I certainly
respect and honor you--And really, I had no idea of all this about my
property. I've never paid much heed to my property except to spend
the income of course. It wasn't required of me. I must look into this
matter. If I find it as you think--that is if there is no mistake, I
will see what I can do to remedy it. In any case we will look after
little Carmela. I'll settle some money on her mother, wouldn't that be
the best way? I can't think things are as bad as you say--”
“Will you really do something about it?” asked Lynn earnestly, “Will
you go up to New York and see for yourself? Will you go around in _every
room_ of your buildings and get acquainted with those people and find
out just what the conditions are?”
“Why--I--!” he began uncertainly.
“Oh, I thought you couldn't stand that test! That would be too much
bother--You would rather--!”
“No, Wait! I didn't say I wouldn't. Here! I'll go if you'll go with me
and show me what you mean and what you want done. Come. I'll take you at
your word. If you really want all those things come on and show me just
what to do. I'm game. I'll do it. I'll do it whether it needs doing or
not, _just for you_. Will you take me up?”
“Of course” said Lynn quickly, “I'll go with you and show you. I expect
to be in New York next month helping at the Salvation Home while one
of their workers is away on her vacation. I'll show you all over the
district as many times as you need to go, if it's not too hot for you to
come back to the city so early.”
He looked at her sharply. There was a covert sneer in her last words
that angered him, and he was half inclined to refuse the whole thing,
but somehow there was something in this strange new type of girl that
fascinated him. Now that she had the university, and the war, and the
world, for a background she puzzled and fascinated him more than ever.
Half surprised at his own interest he bowed with a new kind of dignity
over his habitual light manner:
“I shall be delighted, Miss Severn. It will not be too hot for me if it
is not too hot for you. I shall be at your service, and I hope you will
discover that there is one officer who knows how to obey.”
She looked at him half surprised, half troubled and then answered
simply:
“Thank you. I'm afraid I've done you an injustice. I'm afraid I didn't
think you would be game enough to do it. I hope I haven't been too rude.
But you see I feel deeply about it and sometimes I forget myself?”
“I am sure I deserve all you have said,” said Laurie as gravely as
his light nature could manage, “but there is one thing that puzzles me
deeply. I wish you would enlighten me. All this won't do _you_ any good.
It isn't for _you_ at all. _Why_ do you care?”
Marilyn brought her lovely eyes to dwell on his face for a moment
thoughtfully, a shy beautiful tenderness softening every line of her
eager young face:
“It's because--” she began diffidently, “It's because they all are God's
children--and I love _Him_ better than anything else in life!”
The swift color made her face lovely as she spoke, and with the words
she turned away and went quickly into the house. The young man looked
after her and dared not follow. He had never had a shock like that in
his life. Girls had talked about everything under heaven to him at one
time or another, but they had never mentioned God except profanely.
Marilyn went swiftly up to her room and knelt down by her bed, burying
her hot cheeks in the cool pillow and trying to pray. She was glad, glad
that she had spoken for her poor city children, glad that there was a
prospect or help perhaps; but beside and beyond it all her heart was
crying out for another matter that was namelessly tugging away at the
very foundations of her soul. Why, Oh _Why_ had Mark gone away with that
queer girl? He must have seen what she was! He must have known that it
was unnecessary! He must have known how it would hurt his friends, and
that the man she came to see could have gone as well as he and better.
Why did he go? She would not, she could not believe anything wrong of
Mark. Yet _why did he go_?