GI Brides (35 page)

Then, just at the last minute like that, came the officer, the same one who had been there the night before with the flowers that they had put in Grandmother’s hands, they said. She hadn’t seen them. She wouldn’t go and look. Silly lilies of the valley, what you gave to a baby!

But the officer walked quietly in and one of the undertakers placed him in a chair in the doorway, where he could see into the living room and, best of all, where Corliss could watch him. She decided that this funeral wasn’t going to be so stuffy after all and straightened up in her chair, opening her eyes as effectively as she knew how.

Then gentle notes on the piano startled her into attention, and a wonderful voice began to sing. It seemed to Dale as she sat quietly by the casket as if an angelic voice were announcing the arrival of a soul in heaven, and a sweet smile hovered over the lips of the girl who was being so terribly bereaved.

“Isn’t that Grandma’s song?” whispered an eager neighbor to Hattie who was standing up just behind Corliss.

“Yes ma’am,” Hattie whispered audibly. “Mr. Golden always sang it for her when he came to see her. She just loved to hear him sing.”

sang the golden voice, thrilling triumphantly through the rooms and causing even Corliss to listen. That man really had a voice if he only would sing something decent. But this song was quite an old chestnut. Why didn’t they pick out something real? Why, there wasn’t a word about heaven even in that song. Or was there?

Then suddenly the golden voice brought out the tender triumphant affirmation:

Oh, so that was it, was it? Religious stuff! Of course that would be it. Grandmother was that way. Corliss turned back to lean against the wall and close her eyes again.

But the golden voice went on, bringing out the words with such conviction in the tone that Corliss had to listen, had to know that there was really something in this song that others beside Grandmother believed in. A hint crept into her heart that it might somehow be true, at least to a certain extent. It was conceivable that she herself
might have
to pay some attention to such things
some
time. But not now. She was young. When she got to be as old as Grandmother it might be all right, if people still believed in such things as a Redeemer. She wasn’t at all sure
she
did. Yet the voice of that good-looking young man sounded as if
he
did. That golden voice like a piercing blade of a golden sword that was cutting deep into her soul and frightening her, in spite of all her opposition, in spite of all her unacknowledged sin!

Suddenly she turned toward the officer sitting across from her, sitting where he could see into the room with the golden voice and the casket. Was he taking it as some sort of mockery, just mere words? Or even a joke? She hoped he was.

But no, the man was looking straight toward the voice, sympathy and conviction in his face. It really was quite attractive in a serviceman, a look like that. She hadn’t thought it would fit with a uniform, but it did. And he didn’t look like a sissy, either. He looked as if he could fight hard if he tried, throw bombs, and shoot, maybe dance and have good times. Corliss sat back and studied him through half-closed lashes. She decided he looked pretty nice, and she would stick around and see if she couldn’t date him for the evening. It oughtn’t to be hard to do. If she only could get out of riding to that old cemetery!

The service was going on all this time, but without benefit of Corliss’s attention. She was studying the young officer. Maybe she could work it around for him to ride in the same car to the cemetery, if he went. If he didn’t, she would stay at home herself and see if she couldn’t follow him down the street and pretend to sprain her ankle or something. She was determined to get to know him. Maybe make him take her to a movie or a dance tonight.

Wonderful scripture was being read that Grandmother Huntley had herself selected, but it made no impression upon Corliss. She was studying the profile of the splendid-looking officer. But the man was giving interested attention to the service and was utterly unaware of the girl who was watching him.

Corliss was disappointed that he didn’t ride in the same car with them. Instead, he was put with Dale and the minister and the young man singer. That was mean of Dale to manage it that way. And there was some old woman in the car with her mother and brother and herself. If there hadn’t been so many people around, she might have tried the screaming act, but on account of the good-looking singer and the navy man, she didn’t consider it. Perhaps there would be some way to get to talk to him after this ride was over. So she gloomed through the remaining ceremonies and was glad indeed when the car drew up at the house again and she saw that the navy man was getting out and going into the house with Dale. He probably wouldn’t stay long, and she would plan to talk to him somehow. So she settled herself on the porch to wait for his departure. He seemed to be over by the desk in the living room writing something for Dale. What in the world could he want of Dale? Some business probably connected with the funeral. He certainly couldn’t be interested in her. She was awfully plain and not stylish at all according to Corliss’s tastes.

But Corliss grew impatient before the meeting at the desk ended. Dale was writing something, too. Some address probably, or maybe signing a paper. Only they seemed so awfully interested in what they were saying. A sharp, jealous look went over her young face. It had always been this way with Dale, thought the young cousin. She seemed to think because she was older she could manage everything.

But at last the two young people rose from the desk and came to the door. Corliss rose precipitately and scuttled to the other side of the door, where she could easily slip down the steps after the man when he should go; and so she missed the look in his eyes when he took Dale’s hand briefly and said good-bye.

Then he was gone, with a quick, bright smile back at Dale standing in the doorway. But Corliss missed getting the full effect of even that, for she was hurrying down the walk nonchalantly ahead of him, sliding behind two old ladies, who were going into the house next door, and nearly knocking one of them over in her haste. Her main object was to catch that “navy guy” before he should vanish again as he had last night, for he was walking now with long, quick strides and looking at his watch as he went, as if he was afraid he was going to be late somewhere. She mustn’t appear to be walking too fast, either. She mustn’t dare to run, or her mother would say something. She had already endured one long, sharp lecture from her mother on the subject of decorum at the time of a funeral. But as soon as the two old ladies went into their own gate, she pressed by them and hurried on, dismayed to find how far ahead the man had already gone. Then, as he turned a corner, she did begin to run. She wasn’t going to let him escape this time. A moment later she caught up by his side, quite out of breath, and accosted him.

“Oh, I say, what’s your rush?” she panted. “I’ve nearly run my legs off to catch you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he said, coming about-face and looking at her, startled. “I didn’t leave something, did I? Was there some message from Miss Huntley? Should I go back?”

“Oh no, no such luck,” laughed Corliss. “I just wanted to talk to you. I like servicemen, and I especially like you. I wanted to ask you if you wouldn’t make a date with me for this evening. We could go to the movies first, and then you could take me dancing. I’m just sick to death of all this funeral business and I want to have a little fun. I thought you would show me a good time.”

The young man gave her a puzzled look. “That would be impossible,” he said. “I have to catch a train back to the barracks.”

“Well, miss your old train, then, and stay with me. There are always more trains. Besides, I want you! I’m fed up with all the solemnity, and I’ve got to get out and see some life. Miss your old train. Come on!” There was wheedling in the blue eyes lifted to his, but there was only firmness, almost severity, in the eyes of the young officer.

“Haven’t you heard that there is a war?” he said. “When one is in the service one does not miss trains. Here comes my bus. Good night!” And he was gone.

Corliss—baffled, angry—stood and watched the bus disappear around the next corner and then went furiously back to the house to see what other deviltry she could think up.

Meantime Dale had dropped into a chair near her aunt, getting ready to take over the burden of this uncongenial set of guests, hoping against hope that they would see their way clear to going home on the midnight train yet not daring to believe that they would.

But her aunt broke the momentary silence: “Who is this naval officer who seems to be always around?” she asked, withdrawing her gaze from the place where her daughter had disappeared in pursuit of the uniform.

Dale came to attention at once, bringing back her mind from a consideration of what she ought to do or say next.

“Officer? Oh yes? Why, he’s just a friend.”

“Oh! Only a friend. He must be a very special friend to go out of his way to come to a mere funeral.”

Dale hesitated. How should she explain?

“It was kind of him, wasn’t it?” she said pleasantly. “You see, he was interested in Grandmother. A great many people were interested in Grandmother, you know.”

“So it seems,” said Aunt Blanche sarcastically, as if the fact annoyed her. “You certainly had a mob here today. One wonders what satisfaction people like that get out of a funeral. It must be just morbid curiosity.”

“Curiosity?” said Dale with a perplexed frown. “What could they possibly be curious about? They were most of them very dear old friends who have been here constantly during the years and who loved Grandmother very much.”

“Oh I see!” said the aunt dryly. “Well, I suppose the poor things have very little else to do. But I can’t understand a young naval officer coming. He must have seen plenty of death in a more dramatic form, if he
really has
been overseas.”

Dale’s eyes suddenly flashed, but she turned her face away so her aunt would not see, and taking a deep breath, she suddenly rose to her feet, changing the subject sharply: “Now, what are your plans, Aunt Blanche? Are you returning home tonight, or do you wish to go back to the hotel? In which case, would you like me to send for a taxi?”

The aunt looked at Dale with an annoyed manner. “I don’t see any rush about it,” she said, offended. “I thought perhaps we’d stay here now and take those rooms you prepared for us. Corliss, of course, thinks she would like to have Grandmother’s room. She is sure that is the best room in the house, and the view is much pleasanter. I suggest you send Hattie up to clean it thoroughly right away and open all the windows wide.”

Dale paused and looked at her aunt steadily. “No!” she said firmly. “Nobody is going to occupy Grandmother’s room at present, and certainly not Corliss, after the way she acted. I wouldn’t like Grandmother to be dishonored that way.”

“
Dishonored?
What do you mean? Can’t you understand a young girl being afraid of death? Don’t let’s have any more argument about it. Just call Hattie and tell her to thoroughly clean Grandmother’s room and put it in order for use. If you don’t, I
will.
I’m not going to live through another night like last night, and Corliss is all upset. Will you tell Hattie, or shall I?”

Dale drew another long breath and looked at her aunt quickly. “Hattie isn’t here,” she said.

“Isn’t here? Where is she? She was at the funeral, wasn’t she? I saw her myself. I thought it was awfully strange, too, letting a servant come in with the family. Where has she gone now?”

“She has gone to see her sick sister. I told her to stay as long as she thought it was necessary, that I would get along all right. She has been wonderfully good staying here through it all, though her sister really needed her. But she wouldn’t leave me alone till the funeral was over.”

“Oh! She wouldn’t, wouldn’t she? And you actually
let
her go while
we
were still here?”

“Why, I wasn’t sure whether you were here or not. You have been staying at the hotel, and I never heard you say whether you were going back west right away or not. But anyhow, that made no difference; Hattie
had
to go. I think she did a good deal to stay till the stress was over.”

“
Stress?
Well, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. We’re still here, and since the objection to staying here is now removed, I don’t see why you should jump to the conclusion that we were going to the hotel. Of course having come so far to look into business matters, I shall not be going back until I am finished. And now, what are we going to do about that room? It
must
be cleaned
thoroughly
or we never can get Corliss to enter it, and I cannot blame her. Is there someone else you can get to do this cleaning, at once?”

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Blanche, but that room is not an option. It has already been thoroughly cleaned, of course, but it is
not
to be used at present, by Corliss or anyone else. I have other plans, which I am not willing to change. And please, Aunt Blanche, I am very tired tonight. It has been an exceedingly hard day. Suppose we don’t talk any more about such things. I am not going to get another cleaning woman, and there is no house-cleaning to go on here, either tonight or tomorrow.”

“But Dale, you are unreasonable. I told you that the man who is thinking of buying this house is coming to see it. I reached him last night on the telephone and told him to come tomorrow morning at eleven instead of today, so whatever has to be done toward cleaning
must
be done tonight.”

Dale turned suddenly and faced her aunt. “Listen, Aunt Blanche,” she said firmly. “Nobody is going to look at this house tomorrow or any other day with an idea of buying it. The house is definitely
not for sale
! I thought I made you understand that yesterday.”