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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

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BOOK: The Beloved Stranger
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Aunt Pat sat with a dreamy smile on her lips and watched her, going back over the years to an old country graveyard and a boy with grave, sweet eyes.

Three days this went on, three happy days for both Sherrill and Aunt Pat, and on the morning of the fourth day there came a great box of golden-hearted roses for Sherrill, and no card whatever in them. An hour later the telephone rang. A long-distance call for Sherrill.

With cheeks aflame and heart beating like a trip-hammer, she hurried to the telephone, not even noticing the cold disapproval of Gemmie, who had brought the message.

“Is that you, Sherrill?” came leaping over the wire in a voice that had suddenly grown precious.

“Oh yes, Graham!” answered Sherrill in a voice that sounded like a caress. “Where are you?”

“I’m in Chicago,” said a strong glad voice. “I want to come and see you this afternoon about something very important. Are you going to be at home?”

“Oh, surely, yes, all day,” lilted Sherrill, “but how could you possibly come and see me today if you are in Chicago?”

“I’m flying! I’ll be there just as soon as I can. I’m starting right away!”

“Oh, how wonderful!” breathed Sherrill, starry eyes looking into the darkness around the telephone, almost lighting up the place, smiling lips beaming into the reciever. “I—I’m—
glad
!”

“That’s
grand
!” said the deep big voice at the other end of the line. “I’m gladder than ever that you are glad! Are you all right?”

“Oh, quite all right!” chirruped Sherrill. “I’m righter than all right—
now!”

“Well, then, I’ll be seeing you—shortly. I’m at the airport now, and I’m starting
immediately!
Good-bye—
darling!”

The last word was so soft, so indefinite that it gave the impression of having been whispered after the lips had been turned away from the phone, and Sherrill was left in doubt whether she had not just imagined it after all.

She came away from the telephone with her eyes still starrier and her cheeks rosier than they had been when she went to it. She brushed by the still-disapproving Gemmie, who was doing some very unnecessary dusting in the hall, and rushed up to her aunt’s room.

“Oh, Aunt Pat!” she said breathlessly. “He’s coming! He’s flying! He’s coming this afternoon. Do you mind if we don’t go for a ride as we’d planned?”

“Who’s coming, child?” snapped Aunt Pat with her wry grin and a wicked little twinkle in her eye. “Be more explicit.”

“Why, Graham is coming,” said Sherrill eagerly, her face wreathed in smiles.

“Graham indeed! And who might Graham be? Graham Smith or Graham Jones? And when did we get so intimate as to be calling each other by our first names?”

For answer Sherrill went laughing and hid her hot cheeks in the roseleaf coolness of the old lady’s neck. The old lady patted her shoulder and smoothed her soft hair as if she had been a baby.

“Well,” said Aunt Pat with her twisted smile, “it begins to look as if that young man had a great deal of business in the east, doesn’t it? It must be expensive to travel around in airplanes the way he does, but it’s certainly interesting to have a man drop right down out of the skies that way. Now, let me see, what are you going to wear, child? How about that little blue organdy? You look like a sweet child in that. I like it. Wear that. Those cute little white scallops around the neck and sleeves remind me of a dress I had when I was sixteen. My mother knew how to make scallops like that.”

“I’ll wear it, of course,” said Sherrill eagerly. “How lovely it must have been to have a mother to make scallops for you. But I don’t know as that is any better than having a dear precious aunt to buy them for you. You just spoil me, Auntie Pat! Aren’t you afraid I’ll ‘spoil on you’ as Lutie’s mother says?”

“Well, I’ve tried hard enough,” said the old lady, smiling, “but I can’t seem to accomplish anything in that line. I guess you are the kind that doesn’t spoil.”

All the morning Gemmie came and went with grim set lips and disapproving air, going about her duties scrupulously, doing all that was required of her, yet saying as plainly as words could have said that they were all under a blind delusion and she was the only one who saw through things and knew how they were being deceived by this flying youth who was about to appear on the scene again. She sniffed at the gorgeous yellow roses when she passed by them and wiped her eyes surreptitiously. She didn’t like to see her beloved family deceived.

But time got away at last, and Sherrill went to dress for the guest, for they had been consulting airports and had found out the probable hour of his arrival.

Sherrill was just putting the last touches to her hair when Aunt Pat tapped at the door and walked in with a tiny string of pearls in her hand, real pearls they were, and very small and lovely.

“I want you to wear these, dearie,” she said in a sweet old voice that seemed made of tears and smiles and reminded one of lavender and rose leaves.

Sherrill whirled about quickly, but when she saw the little string of pearls, her face went white, and her eyes took on a frightened look. She drew back and caught hold of the dressing table.

“Oh, not another necklace!” she said in distress. “Dear Aunt Patricia. I really couldn’t wear it! I’d lose it! I’m afraid of necklaces!”

“Nonsense, child!” said the old lady, smiling. “That other necklace is going to turn up sometime, I’m sure. Remember I told you those stones were registered, and eventually if someone stole them, they will be sold, will ultimately arrive at some of the large dealers and be traced. You’re not to fret about them, even if it is some time before we hear of them. And as for this necklace, it’s one I had when I was a little girl, and it is charmed. I always had a happy time when I wore it, and I want you to wear this for me this afternoon. I like to see you in it, and I like to think of you with it on. You’ll do it for me, little girl. I never had a little girl of my own, and so you’ll have to have them. I’m quite too old now to wear such a childish trinket.”

So Sherrill half fearfully let her clasp the quaint chain about her neck, and stooped and kissed the dear old lady on the parting of her silvery curls.

Sooner than Sherrill had dared to hope, he came. She watched him from behind her window curtain while he paid the taxi driver and then gave a quick upward look at the windows of the house. No, she had not been mistaken in her memory of him. That firm, clean, lean look about the chin, that merry twinkle in his eyes. The late-afternoon sun lit up his well-knit form. There was a covert strength behind him that filled her with satisfaction and comfort. He was a man one could trust utterly. She couldn’t be deceived in him!

Then Gemmie’s cold voice broke stiffly on her absorption: “The young man is here, Miss Sherrill!”

“Oh, Gemmie,” caroled Sherrill as she hurried laughing from her window. “Do take that solemn look off your face. You look like the old meetinghouse down at the corner of Graff Street. Do look happy, Gemmie!”

“I always look as happy as I feel, Miss Sherrill,” said Gemmie frigidly.

But Sherrill suddenly whirled on her, gave her a resounding kiss on her thin astonished lips, and went cheerfully past her down the stairs, looking like a sweet child in her little blue organdy with the white scallops and pearls, and her gold hair like a halo around her eager face. The small blue shoes laced with black velvet ribbons about her ankles fairly twinkled as she ran down the steps, and the young man who stood at the foot of the stairs, his eyes alight with an old, old story, thought her the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

Aunt Pat had managed to absorb every single servant about the place, suddenly and intensively, and there wasn’t a soul around to witness their meeting, though perhaps it would not have made the least difference to them, for they were aware of nobody but their own two selves.

She went to his arms as to a haven she had always known she possessed, and his arms went around her and drew her close, with her gold head right over his heart, her cheek rubbing deliciously against the fine serge of his dark blue coat. Dark blue serge, how she loved it! He had worn a coat like that when she first found him!

He laid his lips against her forehead, her soft hair brushing his face, and held her close for a moment, breathing, “Oh, my darling!”

Then suddenly they drew apart, almost embarrassed, each afraid of having been too eager, and then drew together again, his arm about her waist, drawing her into the small reception room and down to the small sofa just inside the portiere.

The man laughed softly, triumphantly.

“I was afraid to come,” he said. “I was afraid it would be too soon, after—after—that other man!”

“You mean Carter?” said Sherrill, and then with a sudden inner enlightenment, “Why, there never was any other man but you.” She said it with a burst of joy. “I thought there was, but now I know there
never
was! At least I thought he was what you are! There has
always
been you—in my thoughts, I guess!” and she dropped her eyes shyly, afraid to have too quickly revealed her heart.

“How could I have been so mistaken!” she added with quick anger at herself. “Oh, I should have had to suffer longer for being so stupid!”

But he drew her within his arms again and laid his lips on hers, then on her sweet eyelids, and then, his cheek against hers, he whispered, “Oh, my precious little love!”

Suddenly he brought something from his pocket, something bright and flashing, and slipped it on her finger. Startled, she looked down and saw a great blue diamond, the loveliest she had ever seen, set in delicate platinum handiwork.

“That marks you as mine,” he said with a wonderful look into her eyes. “And now, darling, we’ve got to work fast, for I haven’t much time.”

“Oh!” said Sherrill in instant alarm. “Have you got to go back again right away?”

“Not back again,” he laughed, “but off somewhere else. And I don’t know what you’ll think of what I’ve come to propose. Maybe you’ll think it is all wrong, rushing things this way when we’ve scarcely known each other yet, and you don’t really know a thing about me or my family.”

“That wouldn’t matter,” said Sherrill emphatically, without even a thought of the emerald necklace, though Gemmie at that moment was stalking noisily through the hall beyond the curtain.

“You precious one!” said Copeland, drawing her close again and lifting one of her hands, the one with the ring on the third finger, to his lips.

“Well, now, you see, it’s this way. I’m being sent quite unexpectedly to South America on a matter of very special business. It’s a great opportunity for me, and if I succeed in my mission it means that I’ll be on Easy Street, of course. But I may have to stay down there anywhere from six weeks to six months to accomplish my purpose—”

“Ohhh!” breathed Sherrill with a sound like pain.

He smiled, pressed her fingers close, and went on speaking.

“I feel that way, too, dearest. I can’t bear to be away from you so long when I’ve only just found you. And I’ve been audacious enough to want to take you with me! Do you suppose you could ever bring yourself to see it that way, too? Or have I asked too much? I’ve brought all sorts of credentials and things with me.”

“I don’t need credentials,” said Sherrill, nestling close to him. “I love you.” And suddenly she felt she understood that other poor girl who had said she would marry Carter McArthur if she knew she had to go through hell with him. That was what love was, utter self-abnegation, utter devotion. That was why love was so dangerous perhaps to some. But this love was different. This man knew her Christ, belonged to Him. Oh, what had God done for her! Taken away a man who was not worthy, and given her one of His own children!

His arms were about her again, drawing her close, his words of endearment murmured in her ear.

“You will go?” he asked gently. “You mean
you will
go?” There was an awed delight in his voice.

“Of course!” said Sherrill softly. “When would we have to go?”

“That’s it,” he said with a bit of trouble in his eyes as he looked down on her anxiously. “I have to go
tonight!
Would that be rushing you too much? I’d make it longer if I could, but there is need for great haste in my business. In fact, if it could have waited until the next boat, I wouldn’t have been sent at all; a senior member of the firm would have gone in my place. But just now neither of them could get away, so it fell to my lot, and I had no chance to protest.”

Sherrill sat up and looked startled.

“Tonight!” she echoed. “Why, I could go, of course—but—I’m not sure how Aunt Patricia would take it. She’s been wonderful to me, and I wouldn’t like to hurt her. I ought to ask her—!”

“Of course!” said Copeland. “Where is she? Let’s go to her at once! I’ll try to make her see it. And—well—if this thing succeeds, I’ll be able perhaps to make it up to her about losing you so suddenly. It might just happen that I would be put in the east to look after a new branch of the business. We could live around here if that would make it pleasanter for her.”

“How wonderful!” said Sherrill. “Let’s go up to her room! I know she’ll be kind of expecting us.”

So they went up the stairs with arms about one another, utterly unaware of Gemmie, peering out stolidly from behind the living room portieres.

They appeared that way in Aunt Pat’s doorway when she had bidden them enter, for all the world like two children come to confess some prank.

“I see how it is with you,” said Aunt Pat with a pleased grin as they stood a second, at a loss how to begin. “I expected it, of course.”

“I know you don’t know a thing about me,” began the lover, searching around in his legal mind for the things he had prepared to say, “but I’ve brought some credentials.”

“Don’t bother!” said Aunt Pat indifferently. “I wasn’t quite a fool! You didn’t suppose I was going to put my child in danger of a second heartbreak, did you? I looked you up the day the first flowers came.”

“Why, Aunt Pat!” said Sherrill, aghast. “You said you trusted him utterly! You said you knew a man when you saw one!”

BOOK: The Beloved Stranger
3.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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