Astra (6 page)

Telling the maids that she was going downtown to attend some errands, she boarded a bus with her array of bundles and went first to the stores where she hoped to return her dresses. There was great relief in her eyes when in response to her request she was merely told to go to a certain desk and her money would be refunded. Then, with a roll of nice crisp bills in her purse, and a burden that was much lightened, she went on her way to sell her old gold.

When she finally got back to the house, she had enough money to buy a ticket, enough over for incidentals, and a night’s lodging at least when she got there. So she felt that it was right for her to go. There would surely be some friends when she got to the city that was still home to her who would help her out until she could find Mr. Sargent.

She paid little heed to eating that day. She had too much to do. She went to the trunk room and got out her trunk and suitcases. Then, rapidly, she began to pack. She wanted to waste no time in getting started. As she folded her garments and stowed them in the trunk and suitcases, her mind was going over and over what she should do. There were some books and pictures, and things that were dear to her heart. If she left them there, Clytie would make short work of them, and there was little likelihood that she would ever see them again unless she took them with her. So she went down to the cellar and found a box which she smuggled up to her room while the maids were out on their own errands. She packed her things carefully, and even nailed up the box securely. She didn’t want to waste money paying a man to do what she could do herself.

But while she was packing her books, she came across a few that she did not care to keep and realized that she might get a little more money from them. Also, there was a whole lovely set of her favorite poets, done in fine binding. She had bought them only a short time ago. Could she get the man to take them back and give her the money? She hated to give them up, but she could surely get them again somewhere, sometime, when money was not so scarce; so she ventured to telephone and found that the book dealer would take them back if they were still in good condition.

So she took her books down to the dealer and got a little more money for her journey, which made her feel much easier in her mind and quite satisfied that God was helping her.

That evening, tired as she was, she wrote a note to her cousin.

It was very sketchy sleeping that Astra did that night, because there were still so many details of her hasty journey not yet thought out. But she was awake early the next morning and at the telephone, calling for some men to take her box and trunks to the station and calling the station to find out train schedules. When she went down to breakfast, she had everything well in hand, and her heart was filled with a great relief.

After breakfast she told the maids.

“I am going back to my old home, Hannah,” she said. “I’ve been planning to do that for some time, and now I think it will be pleasant to be with my old friends at Christmastime.”

Hannah eyed her in amazement.

“Does Mrs. Lester know?” she asked coldly. “She didn’t say anything to me about it.”

“No, she doesn’t know. I decided since she left. But I’ve written her all about it, so I suppose you will hear from her soon as to any directions she may have, since I am not to be here. I think you said she usually left you here in charge of the house before I came, didn’t she?”

“Oh yes,” said Hannah loftily. “Every summer when they go away to the mountains. I and Nannie stays and cleans house.”

“Well, then I guess you won’t miss me. And here are two little packages I got for you for Christmas. I sure hope you will have a very happy time.”

The two prim maids eyed the prettily wrapped boxes that Astra handed out to them, and then the doorbell rang and Nannie hurried away to answer it.

“That must be the men I sent for,” said Astra. “They said they would come early.”

So there was little time for further talk. Astra had taken things firmly in hand, and the two maids felt relieved that they were not called upon to be always staying at home to be company for her.

Soon Astra was riding away to the station in a taxi, and the two maids stood at the door and waved good-bye, all the while fingering the crisp bills that Astra had given each. She had felt she could ill afford to spare them, but yet she knew she must. It was her idea of what was right.

But in spite of the fact that she was really glad to get away, she yet felt she was going into the world with no one behind to wish her Merry Christmas and no one ahead waiting to bid her welcome and make a happy holiday for her.

So that was what Astra was going over as she finished her breakfast and sat forlornly staring out through the lace filigree of frost on the windowpane, into a wide white world that seemed so strange and unfriendly now after her experiences of the night before and the uncertainties of what the morning was to bring forth.

A
stra was seated in a big rocker in the ladies’ waiting room with her baggage at her side, comfortably established there by the old porter from the Pullman. How he got away from his duties on the train, she did not stop to question. He seemed somehow to have taken over the protectiveness of the young man who evidently felt himself responsible for Astra, at least until their mission on behalf of the dead man was completed.

The old porter shuffled away and brought back the morning paper and asked if there was anything else she would like.

“No, thank you,” said Astra with a smile. “You’ve been very kind. I shall be quite all right now.”

“De gemman say please stay here till he come. He may haveta take de lady to her house befoh he can git away.”

“Yes of course,” said Astra, “I understand.”

She handed the porter a tip, though she rightly guessed that he had already had that attention. But he went away with a smiling face, ready to do a good turn to the next one that asked him.

From where she sat, Astra could get a glimpse of the door that led to the street, and she thought she saw the young man going out in the wake of the more than straight back of the domineering widow of the dead man. They disappeared toward a line of cars, and he did not return at once, so she decided he had had to attend the widow to her home. Not a congenial task, she imagined.

Then suddenly she had a feeling that she was very much alone in the world, and she must decide what she was going to do next. She had expected to have all day yesterday to do that in, but yesterday had brought unexpected duties, and now she had arrived at her journey’s end with no definite idea of plans for the future. Of course, she had been crazy to come off in such a scatterbrained way, but she had been so panic-stricken with the idea about getting away that she had just gotten out of the house and left her plans to the future. Now in a few minutes the younger man would return, and whatever he had for her to do that required her assistance and signature would likely be over soon. Then she must not seem to be uncertain about where she was going. This young man was a stranger, and she must not make him feel that she was alone and forlorn. He was polite and kind. He had already done more for her comfort than she should have allowed in exchange for the small services she had given him, and for a business that was not his own anyway. He was being philanthropic to a man who was a semi-stranger to himself, therefore she must be philanthropic, too, for the sake of a general interest in humanity.

But what should she do?

Well, she probably ought to go at once to her father’s friend, Mr. Sargent, and put the matter plainly to him whether he thought she should accept a job right away if she could get one or whether he thought her father would have preferred her to take a course in a school somewhere. But in preparation for what? Her father had often talked it over with her. He had felt she might do a sort of writing for which her life and training with him had fitted her.

She looked out of the window near her and could just get a glimpse of a sign she remembered. A Christian Association Home for women! Well, perhaps that would be as good as a headquarters as any for a few days, at least until she was sure that this work for the dead man was done and she would not have to be called upon again in the matter.

Then she began to go over in her mind the list of her old friends. It gave her a forlorn feeling to realize that Christmas was almost here and she would be absolutely alone. But then, she would have been just as much alone if she had stayed at her cousin’s home, and there was no point in sitting down and feeling sorry for herself. She must cheer up and try to make a pleasant day of it somehow. What difference did a special day make anyway? Christmas was like any other day, if one didn’t try to get sentimental about traditions. She simply must not get to thinking about it. God would have something for her to do somewhere, and as for a holiday alone, why, it would be a lovely time to read and perhaps to think out some nice plans for the rest of the winter.

She gave a slight shake to her shoulders and sat up straighter. She was a little tired in spite of her good sleep. Yesterday afternoon and evening certainly had been exciting.

She thought of her old acquaintances, schoolmates, and college friends. Some of them were married. There was Nesbitt Halliday, such a merry, amusing girl! It didn’t seem possible to think she had settled down to keeping house and taking care of babies like a normal married woman. She had been such a heedless girl. Sometime she would go and see her, and see she really
had
settled down. But there was no use in calling her up now. She had a tiny house and would be involved in Christmas doings for her children, of course. And she simply must not intrude on family Christmases anywhere, even if the people were old friends. Perhaps there was someone who was lonely whom she could comfort. There was Mrs. Pomfrey, who had a big house and plenty of room to take her in if she wanted to. But she was such a pill, always fretting and fussing. No, she didn’t want to get involved with Mrs. Pomfrey, kind as she was sometimes. And there was old Janet Crumb. She was always cheery. Perhaps she would be willing to take her to board for a while until she got her bearings and knew what she wanted to do. Of course Janet Crumb had a very tiny house, with only one bathroom, and it might be crowded there. If she was going to try to do that writing her father had suggested, she ought to have a comfortable place where she would not feel constricted. Idly, these thoughts drifted through her mind as she sat there waiting, and one by one her old friends were considered and dropped for the time. She would call them up later of course, but not before Christmas. Oh yes, some of them would be glad to have her for the holiday season, but somehow she did not want to go among them until she had thouroughly considered what she was going to do and could tell them. There would be too many suggestions given, and some feelings hurt, perhaps, if she did not accept what suggestions they offered. No, she must make a definite decision about what course she would take before she saw them.

At any rate, the first call must be to Mr. Sargent. She must get in touch with him before she decided anything. She was in different circumstances now, not just boarding with a relative. She had a dim recollection that her father had said something about her allowance being larger when it came time for her to provide a home for herself.

After a little, she put her head back and closed her eyes, just to get away from thoughts, and then the events of last evening became vivid again and the disagreeable wife who had so insulted her came sharply into the foreground. The thought of her made Astra restless, and she opened her eyes and began to study people around her. Some tired little children, dirty and forlorn, breakfasting off soiled dejected bananas, squabbling over them on the station floor. A worn-out young mother with an even dirtier baby in her weary arms. How many people there were in the world who were tired and unhappy!

Then her eyes sought the distance and she saw him—his hat in his hand, his overcoat unbuttoned, a tired look on his face, as if he had had very little sleep last night. Poor man, how many unpleasant duties sometimes came in to make and spoil a day for a gentleman. He certainly couldn’t have enjoyed taking that disagreeable woman back to her home.

He came on straight toward the open door, and Astra couldn’t help thinking how well he walked, with a long, easy stride.

Then suddenly the view of him was broken by a vision in a glamorous mink coat, one of the kind that fairly shouts how new and expensive it is.

It was worn smartly, on a frame that was both youthful and full of grace and poise, and the small, smart turban that topped it was also trimmed with mink and very chic, tilted over the right eye.