There was only one other passenger in the car, an old man nodding
behind a newspaper, with his chair facing in the other direction.
Graham took a swift survey of him and turned happily back with a smile
to Shirley:
"At last I have you to myself!" he said with a sigh of satisfaction
that made Shirley's cheeks bloom out rosily again.
He whirled her chair and his quite away from the vision of the old man,
so that they were at the nearest possible angle to each other, and
facing the windows. Then he sat down and leaned toward her.
"Shirley," he said in a tone of proprietorship that was tender and
beautiful, "I've waited just as long as I'm going to wait to tell you
something. I know it's lunch time, and I'm going to take you into the
dining-car pretty soon and get you some lunch, but I must have a little
chance to talk with you first, please."
Shirley's eyes gave glad permission and he hurried on.
"Shirley, I love you. I guess you've been seeing that for some time.
I knew I ought to hide it till you knew me better, but I simply
couldn't do it. I never saw a girl like you, and I knew the minute I
looked at you that you were of finer clay than other girls, anyway. I
knew that if I couldn't win you and marry you I would never love
anybody else. But yesterday when I heard you were in peril away off
down in Washington and I away up here helpless to save you, and not
even having the right to organize a search for you, I nearly went wild!
All the way down on the train I kept shutting my eyes and trying to
pray the way you told your Sunday School boys how to pray. But all I
could get out was, 'Oh, God, I love her! Save her! I love her!'
Shirley, I know I'm not one-half worthy enough for you, but I love you
with all my heart and I want you for my wife. Will you marry me,
Shirley?"
When she had recovered a little from her wonder and astonishment, and
realized that he had asked her to marry him, and was waiting for his
answer, she lifted her wondering eyes to his face, and tried to speak
as her conscience and reason bade her.
"But I'm not like the other girls you know," she said bravely. Then he
broke in upon her fervently.
"No, you're not like any other girl I know in the whole wide world.
Thank God for that! You are one among a thousand! No, you're one
among the whole earthful of women! You're the _only_ one I could ever
love!"
"But listen, please; you haven't thought. I'm not a society girl. I
don't belong in your circle. I couldn't grace your position the way
your wife ought to do. Remember, we're nobodies. We're poor! We live
in a _barn_!"
"What do you suppose I care about that?" he answered eagerly. "You may
live in a barn all your days if you like, and I'll love you just the
same. I'll come and live in the barn with you if you want me to. My
position! My circle! What's that? You'll grace my home and my life
as no other girl could do. You heart of my heart! You strong, sweet
spirit! The only question I'm going to ask of you is, Can you love me?
If you can, I know I can make you happy, for I love you better than my
life. Answer, please. Do you love me?"
She lifted her eyes, and their spirits broke through their glances. If
the old man at the other end of the car was looking they did not know
it.
They came back to the cottage at the shore with a manner so blissful
and so unmistakable that even the children noticed. Elizabeth
whispered to Carol at table: "My brother likes your sister a lot,
doesn't he? I hope she likes him, too."
"I guess she does," responded Carol philosophically. "She oughtta.
He's been awfully good to her, and to all of us."
"People don't like people just for that," said wise Elizabeth.
Harley, out on the veranda after dinner, drew near to Carol to confide.
"Say, kid, I guess he _has_ got a case on her all right now. Gee!
Wouldn't that be great? Think of all those cars!"
But Carol giggled.
"Good night! Harley! How could we ever have a wedding in a barn? And
they're such particular people, too!"
"Aw, gee!" said Harley, disgusted. "You girls are always thinking of
things like that! As if that mattered. You can get married in a
chicken-run if you really have a case like that on each other! _You
make me tired!_" and he stalked away in offended male dignity.
Meantime the unconscious subjects of this discussion had gone to Mrs.
Hollister to confess, and the sea was forgotten by all three for that
one evening at least, even though the moon was wide and bright and gave
a golden pathway across the dark water. For a great burden had rolled
from Mrs. Hollister's shoulders when she found her beloved eldest
daughter was really loved by this young man, and he was not just
amusing himself for a little while at her expense.
The days that followed were like one blissful fleeting dream to
Shirley. She just could not get used to the fact that she was engaged
to such a prince among men! It seemed as if she were dreaming, and
that presently she would wake up and find herself in the office with a
great pile of letters to write, and the perplexing problem before her
of where they were going to live next winter. She had broached that
subject once to Graham shyly, saying that she must begin to look around
as soon as she got back to town, and he put her aside, asking her to
leave that question till they all went back, as he had a plan he
thought she might think well of, but he couldn't tell her about it just
yet. He also began to urge her to write at once to Mr. Barnard and
resign her position, but that she would not hear of.
"No," she said decidedly. "We couldn't live without my salary, and
there are a lot of things to be thought out and planned before I can be
married. Besides, we need to get to know each other and to grow into
each other's lives a little bit. You haven't any idea even now how far
I am from being fitted to be the wife of a man in your position. You
may be sorry yet. If you are ever going to find it out, I want you to
do it beforehand."
He looked adoringly into her eyes.
"I know perfectly now, dear heart!" he said, "and I'm not going to be
satisfied to wait a long time for you to find out that you don't really
care for me after all. If you've got to find that out, I believe I'd
rather it would be after I have you close and fast and you'll _have_ to
like me anyway."
And then the wonder and thrill of it all would roll over her again and
she would look into his eyes and be satisfied.
Still she continued quite decided that nothing could be done about
prolonging her vacation, for she meant to go back to Barnard and
Clegg's on the day set.
"You know I'm the man of the house," she said archly. "I can't quite
see it at all myself--how I'm ever going to give up."
"But I thought I was going to be the man of the house," pleaded Sidney.
"I'm sure I'm quite capable and eager to look out for the interests of
my wife's family."
"But you see I'm not the kind of a girl that has been looking around
for a man who will support my family."
"No, you surely are not!" said the young man, laughing. "If you had
been, young lady, I expect you'd have been looking yet so far as I am
concerned. It is because you are what you are that I love you. Now
that's all right about being independent, but it's about time to fight
this thing to a finish. I don't see why we all have to be made
miserable just because there are a lot of unpleasant precedents and
conventions and crochets in the world. Why may I not have the pleasure
of helping to take care of your perfectly good family if I want to? It
is one of the greatest pleasures to which I am looking forward, to try
and make them just as happy as I can, so that you will be the happier.
I've got plenty to do it with. God has been very good to me in that
way, and why should you try to hinder me?"
And then the discussion would end in a bewildering look of worshipful
admiration on Shirley's part and a joyous taking possession of her and
carrying her off on some ride or walk or other on the part of Graham.
He did not care just now that she was slow to make plans. He was
enjoying each day, each hour, to the full. He wanted to keep her from
thinking about the future, and especially about the winter, till she
got home, and so he humored her and led her to other topics.
One night, as they sat on the dark veranda alone, Graham said to George:
"If you were going to college, where would you want to prepare?"
He wondered what the boy would say, for the subject of college had
never been mentioned with relation to George. He did not know whether
the boy had ever thought of it. But the answer came promptly in a
ringing voice:
"Central High! They've got the best football team in the city."
"Then you wouldn't want to go away to some preparatory school?"
"No, _sir_!" was the decided answer. "I believe in the public school
every time! When I was a little kid I can remember my father taking me
to walk and pointing out the Central High School, and telling me that
some day I would go there to school. I used to always call that 'my
school.' I used to think I'd get there yet, some day, but I guess
that's out of the question."
"Well, George, if that's your choice you can get ready to enter as soon
as you go back to the city."
"What?" George's feet came down from the veranda railing with a thud,
and he sat upright in the darkness and stared wildly at his prospective
brother-in-law. Then he slowly relaxed and his young face grew grim
and stern.
"No chance!" he said laconically.
"Why not?"
"Because I've got my mother and the children to support. I can't waste
time going to school. I've got to be a _man_."
Something sudden like a choke came in the young man's throat, and a
great love for the brave boy who was so courageous in his self-denial.
"George, you're not a man yet, and you'll shoulder the burden twice as
well when you're equipped with a college education. I mean you shall
have it. Do you suppose I'm going to let my new brother slave away
before his time? No, sir; you're going to get ready to make the best
man that's in you. And as for your mother and the family, isn't she
going to be my mother, and aren't they to be my family? We'll just
shoulder the job together, George, till you're older--and then we'll
see."
"But I couldn't take charity from anybody."
"Not even from a brother?"
"Not even from a brother."
"Well, suppose we put it in another way. Suppose you borrow the money
from me to keep things going, and when you are ready to pay it back
we'll talk about it then. Or, better still, suppose you agree to pass
it on to some other brother when you are able."
They talked a long time in the dark, and Graham had quite a hard time
breaking down the boy's reserve and independence, and getting a real
brotherly confidence. But at last George yielded, saw the common sense
and right of the thing, and laid an awkward hand in the man's, growling
out:
"You're a pippin and no mistake, Mr. Graham. I can't ever thank you
enough! I never thought anything like this would happen to me!"
"Don't try thanks, George. We're brothers now, you know. Just you do
your best at school, and it's all I ask. Shirley and I are going to be
wonderfully proud of you. But please don't call me Mr. Graham any
more. Sid, or Sidney, or anything you like, but no more mistering."
He flung a brotherly arm across the boy's shoulders and together they
went into the house.
Meantime the beautiful days went by in one long, golden dream of
wonder. The children were having the time of their lives, and
Elizabeth was never so happy. Shirley sat on the wide verandas and
read the wealth of books and magazines which the house contained, or
roamed the beach with the children and Star, or played in the waves
with Doris, and wondered if it were really Shirley Hollister who was
having all this good time.