GI Brides (68 page)

Afterward, as he thought it over, he wished he had not written that last letter. Would it seem desperately gloomy to her, put a damper on her ardent joy? Yet, of course it was something he wanted her to know, his feelings on this great subject of death about which they had said so little. But it was too late to do anything about the letter now. He had put it in with the rest of the mail as soon as it was written, and he did not wish to go through the routine of trying to get it out again. No, he would write her another presently, in the morning perhaps. A happy letter, without a reference to death, and try to dispel the gloom.

So, he drifted off to sleep again, wondering what the future was about to hold for him and for his beloved.

And the next morning, as soon as it was light enough to see, he wrote briefly:

And then, toward evening, the train drew into a camp where he learned they were to spend the night, awaiting other men who were joining their company. And there in the darkening dusk, a name sprang into the sky in brilliant lights, “SILVERTHORN,” and below it, flashing an instant later, “Hear him tonight!”

His pulse quickened. Could that be the same man the private had told him about? He would go and see.

B
lythe came down the next morning with dark rings under her eyes and a worried wrinkle on her brow. Her mother, looking up from the morning mail, smiled at her cheerfully.

“How would you like to run down to Florida for a few weeks, dear?” she asked quite casually, and Blythe knew that the campaign was on.

Blythe tried to smile when she looked up, and shook her head.

“Oh no, Mother dear! I just couldn’t spare the time. I’m so interested in the work I am doing. I wouldn’t interrupt it for anything.”

“But I know you are overworking, dear. I was talking to your father about it last night after you went to your room, and we decided you ought to get away from it all for a while, at least, and get rested. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, and we can’t have you going into a decline, you know. Remember you’ve been working hard in college, and it’s time you had a real rest.”

“But I don’t want a rest,” said the girl earnestly. “I want to stay right here and do all the nice things that I am doing. I just love the babies I am working with in the day nursery, and the hospital class is so interesting. And besides, I’ve undertaken a lot of things at the Red Cross class. No, I couldn’t
think
of going away now. I’m having the time of my life!”

“Well, you certainly don’t look it this morning,” said her mother, scanning her face thoughtfully.

“But Mother, don’t you know what makes me look that way this time? After you gave me a regular scolding for not going out with Dan Seavers, you got me worried.”

“For pity’s sake, child! Why should that worry you?”

“Well, I just don’t like going out with him anymore the way I used to do. I don’t like the crowd he goes with, and I don’t like the way he talks and acts. I think you are mistaken about my having a mission to change him. I know I
haven’t.
Of course I’ll be as nice to him as I can when we are thrown together, but I don’t see that I should take him over to bring him up.”

A puckered frown came on her mother’s forehead.

“Why no, of course not, dear. I didn’t mean anything like that. But I can’t see why you can’t make it plain to him why you don’t care to go with such people. Let him see that if he wants your company, he’ll have to choose a different group.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose I can do that, if the occasion offers,” sighed Blythe. “But I’m really not much interested. You see, Mother, he doesn’t want me to make him over. He’s trying to make me over to suit his own plans. And I don’t care to be made over.”

“But Blythe, you don’t want to be left without
any
escorts, do you? You know, so many of your old friends have gone overseas or to the camps, and there aren’t so many men that you can afford simply to turn a respectable one down. I wouldn’t like the idea that you had
nobody
to take you out.”

“Mother, if I were in the army, a WAC or a WAVE or something, or if I were working in a defense plant like a lot of the other girls, I wouldn’t have to have an escort. I’d be going places by myself.”

“Blythe! My
child
!
You
working in a defense plant?”

“Well, why not? Of course I’d rather be doing what I’m doing than trying to be a riveter, but that is a perfectly respectable job, and lots of nice girls are doing it. And in these wartimes, girls haven’t time to go around to parties and have escorts and be so formal. There isn’t time for frivolity. And do you know, Mother, somehow it doesn’t seem good taste to be running around to parties and entertainments when so many of our friends and acquaintances are facing death to make our world safe for us.”

“Why, Blythe, I didn’t know you felt that way. You never seemed particularly interested in the boys in the army or navy.”

A flash of color went over Blythe’s face.

“Oh, but am
now,
Mother! The more I see of those young boys going out from their homes before they are really half grown up, and the more fine-looking older men in uniform I see, the more I feel what serious business this war is. It doesn’t seem the thing for us who stay so safely at home, to run around trying to amuse ourselves like a parcel of children.”

“Blythe! What a strange thing to say! You don’t want everybody to sit around and be gloomy, do you?”

“No, certainly not. I think we ought to be bright and cheerful for the sake of the young soldiers who are lonely and sad about giving up their lives at home, and looking forward to no one knows what terrible futures.”

“But, my dear! What a gloomy view to take. I shouldn’t think you would be much help among the soldier boys if you talk as if they weren’t any of them coming home.”

“But I don’t
talk
that way, Mother. Of course, a lot of them
are
coming home—I hope—and of course we must make it as cheerful as possible for them. I’m only saying that the ones who do not have to go, who have duties that keep them at home, ought to put aside any childish desires they may have to amuse themselves, and try to make the ones who have to go have good times while they are waiting to be called.”

“Well, I don’t see your line of reason, but it does seem to me that the boys who are staying at home to do important work for the war have as good a right to have a good time now and then as the ones who are going over.”

Blythe drew a long breath that had a little note of almost despair in it.

“Well, Mother, perhaps you are right, but somehow I don’t seem to have much respect for the boys at home who have to be babied, when a lot of their own age have set their lips, and their wills, and have gone out to face whatever comes, even death. It is like people trying to have a dance while they are waiting to find out how many of their friends have been killed in some great disaster.”

“Well, my dear, it is sweet of you to be so sympathetic, and it shows a beautiful maturity and gravity of thought in one so young, but I do think that everyone, both young and old, ought to keep just as cheerful as possible. And then, of course, there are boys at home who are not physically able to go and fight.”

“Why, yes, of course,” said Blythe, weighing each syllable carefully to be sure it was true in her own heart.

Yet there was a gravity in Blythe’s face that made her mother uneasy.

“Well, if you feel that way, we’ll wait a little while and see how you look. If you continue to have those dark circles under your eyes, something will have to be done about it. But there is one thing I shall insist upon. I want you to stop that work in the Red Cross class right away. You can call up and tell them that you can’t come anymore, and they will have to get someone else to take your place, for I won’t have you spending so much time in the company of people who dare to talk about you.”

Blythe laughed.

“Why, Mother dear, you mustn’t feel that way. Everybody talks about everybody else when they happen to want to, and I can’t get out of every place where they talk. I’ll just be careful not to give them anything to criticize, if I can help it.”

Her mother looked troubled.

“I’m afraid you can’t do that, Blythe. You know when people get started talking, they just make up things to say without realizing it. I would rather you didn’t go there another time. Out of sight you’ll perhaps be out of mind, and so free from their gossiping tongues.”

“No, Mother, they’ll just call me a quitter, and I’m not going to have them say that. Besides, I’ve just undertaken to make the buttonholes on a whole lot of the darlingest little nightgowns for babies, and I can’t leave till that’s done. You know I love to make buttonholes. No, Mother dear, I’ll just stick by the work I’ve promised till something really worthwhile needs me. I’m quite content with what I’m doing for the present.”

“But you really need some young company, and I can’t bear to have you forlorn and alone. If you are so determined that you can’t go with Dan anymore, you’ll just drop out of everything, and have no friends at all.”

“Oh no, I won’t,” said Blythe with a happy little smile. “Don’t you worry. I’ll be all right. And please don’t go and get up trips to Florida and things like that for me, for I really don’t want to go anywhere just now. I would rather stay here and do just what I’m doing.”

“Very well,” said her mother with a sigh, “if you want it that way of course. But I hate to feel that you are holding aloof from everyone, all your young friends.”

“Don’t feel that way, Mother. I’m quite happy with the friends I have, and there will be others, too, someday,” and a sweet little fluttering smile flickered over her face.

And then, if Susan hadn’t come into the room with a message from the grocery man, it is possible that Blythe might have started in to tell her mother about Charlie Montgomery. But she still dreaded so her mother’s worried look when she told her that a perfect stranger to them all had told her that he loved her; had dared to tell her that and then go off to war. Her natural reaction would be to resent his daring, and Blythe felt that she could not quite bear that yet.

“Well,” said her mother with a sigh, as she rose to answer Susan’s questions and get a list for the tradesman, “I suppose if you feel that way, perhaps it’s as well for you to go this once, but if I were you, I would get out of that work just as fast as possible and let us find some more congenial work for you. And Blythe, I wish you wouldn’t go today, at least. You look so very tired.”

“No, I think I’d better go,” said the girl. “And Mother, the boys at the front don’t wait for some more congenial work. This is war, you know, and we must work where we are bidden. You’re doing it, and I must do it, too. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right. And now I must go. I don’t want to be late at the class again. ‘Bye, Mother dear!” Blythe jumped up and gave her mother a soft little kiss and hurried away.

It was true that her heart was a bit heavy this morning, for she had just begun to realize that Charlie was going farther and farther away from her now, and into the dread possibility of death. Would he ever return? Would any earthly joy ahead come out of this beautiful sorrow that had come to her? And would she be able to bear her cross all through the long uncertainty?

So, setting her thoughts on the fact that Charlie loved her, and had told her about it before he went, she breezed into the Red Cross room with a fairly good imitation of happiness and greeted them all as if they were her dearest friends. She had no idea that any of them had ever dared to say unpleasant things about her.

“Good morning, everybody,” she lilted out. “Isn’t this a lovely day? I was afraid it was going to rain again, but it certainly has cleared off beautifully, hasn’t it? Now, where are my buttonholes? How many of them ought I to get done this morning? I always like to set a goal for myself. It’s so much more fun to try and finish what I plan.”

Anne Houghton looked up, astonished. She had taken pains to find out that Blythe had not gone out with Dan Seavers the night before, and she could not understand her being so joyous. What did she have up her sleeve now? Some new man who hadn’t yet been seen in town?

“You seem to be very cheerful about it,” she said contemptuously. “Almost as if you had private information that the war was over.”

Blythe looked at her, a bright smile kindling on her lovely face.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I had?” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Wouldn’t I just enjoy telling you all about it, bit by bit, and speculating about the difference it would make in our poor, tired world? Why couldn’t we pretend that it was so this morning? Wouldn’t it seem a bit more cheerful? For someday, likely, that
may
happen you know. I always did like to play ‘Let’s pretend.’”

“I’m afraid I haven’t much imagination,” said Anne coldly. “I never saw any advantage in kidding yourself along, because the truth always catches up with you sooner or later, and the letdown is too great!”

“Oh, do you think so?” said Blythe. “I can’t help feeling that there is a decided advantage in keeping cheerful.”

Some of the others cast significant glances at one another, and a few, of whom Mrs. Felton was the leader, gave her an approving smile.

There was a quiet little woman sitting at the far end of the line, sewing with all her might—swift firm stitches, neatness and precision in every angle of her trim, slim body, and the set of her fine thin lips—who took no part in these pleasantries and did not even cast an eye in her direction, and Blythe took note of her attitude. She seemed to have no acquaintance with the other women, did not speak, and was not spoken to. Her garments were plain and her hands had the look of being work-worn. Yet there was about her an air of intense purpose, as if this work she was doing meant something to her. Meant more, perhaps, than it did to these other women, some of whom, at least, were merely here because it was an easy way of discharging a war duty and gave pleasant publicity to their efforts. Not that it wasn’t important enough, of course, but most of them had the languid air of not caring much about what they were doing. Blythe wondered what made the difference, and when a little later the woman who had been sitting next to the quiet one vacated her chair to go out on an errand, Blythe quietly went over and took it, giving a bright little smile to the busy woman, who barely glanced up when the newcomer arrived next to her, as if it made little difference to her who sat there.