THE CHRISTMAS BRIDE (25 page)

“Oh,” said Margaret in a little awed voice, “what a simply wonderful thing for you to think of! Why…I—I don’t think of you as a stranger, really. But—” Suddenly Margaret’s head went down on her two hands that rested on the frame of her typewriter, and for just an instant her shoulders shook. Then she lifted her head, and her eyes were all dewy like rain in a sunbeam.

“I know I can’t go, of course. There are all those circulars to be got off at once! I know I mustn’t allow you to do it. But it’s just heavenly of you to think of it, and oh, you don’t know how much I wish it were possible.”

Greg blinked at her, perplexed for a minute. He had a wild desire that bewildered him, to take her into his arms and kiss away those tears. But he had never had a desire like that before, not even with Alice. Alice had always been the one who took the initiative in such things and rather embarrassed him.

He wasn’t just sure what was Margaret’s reason for demurring. Probably she thought it wasn’t proper or something. Maybe she still didn’t quite trust him. But if she wanted to go as much as that, she was
going
if he had to upset heaven and earth to bring it about.

He watched her for a minute wistfully, and then a determined look came over his strong jaw and nice, pleasant lips and a sudden cunning to his eyes.

“Just where is your hometown?” he began with a polite air. “Here, I’ve got a road map here somewhere in my drawer!” He swung the upper drawer of his desk open, and there it was, quite as if road maps were the only proper thing to keep handy in the top right-hand drawer of a man’s business desk.

“Come here and let’s see how near I’m going to it!” he said, flipping the map out on the desk and purposely avoiding Margaret’s eyes. He wasn’t at all sure she would come. He might have to look up that hometown by himself. But she came, eagerly, surreptitiously mopping away her tears with a little inadequate handkerchief.

They bent over the map together. Margaret placed an accurate finger on the exact spot where Crystal Lake was located, although it wasn’t large enough in reality to get its name on the map, but Margaret knew its surroundings and began to point them out, tracing the journey wistfully, as if her mind had often gone that way.

Greg took in the situation at a glance and selected a city at random an inch or so above the spot to which Margaret was pointing.

“It’s not so far from Rutland, then, is it?”

“About forty miles away,” said Margaret, unsuspecting.

“Well, say now, that’s nice,” he said, trying to look innocent. “Because that’s where I’m going. I’ve been looking up the mileage, and I figured we could get there in one day, perhaps before dark if we started early enough.”

“Oh!” said Margaret, her eyes glowing thoughtfully, wistfully. “And of course it wouldn’t be much out of your way,” she added, gazing down at the map and thinking hard. “You could leave me down in the village at the Pettibones’s or the Williamses’ for overnight, and I could get someone to take me up in the morning. I could probably get a chance to ride up with Sam Fletcher, or if he didn’t happen to be down, I could easily walk. I’ve done it many a time. And it would be such fun to walk in on them! They’ve been worried about me, I know. But I oughtn’t to lose so much time here. And I know I oughtn’t to let you bother with having me along.”

“Say, what bother are you? Why, you can keep me from losing my way! I’ve never been to Vermont in my life, and you have. Don’t you see I need you? Besides, it’s deadly lonesome on a trip like that with no one along.”

“But isn’t there someone else you ought to take?” asked Margaret fearfully, and then remembered the painted lady and grew shy.

“Not a soul!” said Greg earnestly. Then noticing her hesitation, he added artfully, “You see, I thought we might combine business and pleasure if you went along—that is, if you don’t mind working when you’re on a pleasure trip. I thought we could work out the wording of those other circulars and also a few important letters I want written. I haven’t had the time to think them out, and I thought if you didn’t mind, we could get those out of the way, and then they would be all ready for you to type when we got back.

Margaret’s eyes began to sparkle now, and her conscience retired, beaten.

“Oh, if it’s a business trip, that’s all right,” she said. “I certainly won’t have any more hesitation or any compunctions if I can be of service. I’ll be delighted to go. It’s the best surprise I could have.”

“All right then, we’ll call that settled,” he said in a businesslike tone. “How about starting tomorrow morning? Would that be too soon? This is Monday. Thanksgiving is Thursday. We’ll get there Tuesday night, and I could drop you and go on to Rutland. I’m not sure whether I could finish up my business in one day or not. I’d have to see when I got there. But I’d probably come for you Friday morning, or maybe not till Saturday. You wouldn’t mind if you had a day or so longer at home, would you?”

She smiled delightedly.

“No, I certainly wouldn’t mind,” she said.

“I envy you!” he said looking at her like a little, hungry boy. “You’ve got folks, and one likes to have folks on Thanksgiving Day. A holiday doesn’t mean a thing when you haven’t anybody to share it with.”

“Oh,” said Margaret with a troubled glance, “wouldn’t you…couldn’t you get through and come back to spend Thanksgiving with us? I know Grandmother and Grandfather would be delighted to have you, and I’d like so much to have them know you. It would make them feel a great deal better about having me off away from them in a strange city if they knew the man I was working for.”

“Say! That would be great!”said Greg, grinning delightedly, just as though he hadn’t been fishing for an invitation with all the arts he knew. “But perhaps it would upset them terribly to have a stranger coming unannounced.”

“No,” said Margaret, “it wouldn’t upset them. They don’t upset. And they would like it. The only thing is, I’m afraid maybe you wouldn’t care for it there. It’s very plain and rather lonely up on our mountain. We love it, but others might not. And then—well, you see, they haven’t very much money, and they won’t have grand things to eat.”

“Say, young lady, what do you think I am? A pampered pet? Don’t you know I’ve subsisted on canned beans and salt pork for weeks on end? And don’t you know I’m just hankering for a bit of the wild loneliness I left out west? You can’t scare me off that way. How about it? Can you get ready to go in the morning? Would five o’clock be too early to start?”

“I’ll be ready!” said Margaret joyfully. “But I must finish those letters and get them off before we go.”

“Let the letters go hang till we get back!” grinned Greg. “We’re going off on a jaunt, and we don’t want to be bothered with letters! Anyway, the men they’re going to don’t even know they’re going to get them, and they wouldn’t read them Thanksgiving Day if they came, so why not mail them next week?”

Margaret laughed happily.

“You’re just like a child tonight!” she said and then checked herself. This was her employer. She mustn’t be too free with him.

“Well, let’s!” he said and gave her a happy boy’s grin again.

“All right!” she answered, rising to meet his festive spirit.

“That’s great! Now, I’m going out on a few errands. Is there anything I can get for you? Or would you go along?”

Margaret gave swift, wistful thought for a moment and then resolutely shook her head.

“No,” she said firmly, “I’ll stay and get ready.”

So he went whistling off down the hall and out the door, and she heard his car drive away. She stood still a minute, looking thoughtfully after him, trying to keep her heart from being so wildly happy at the pleasure that was before her. Trying to tell herself that he was only being nice and that it was really a business excursion. She just mustn’t think so much about him. She
mustn’t
!

Then she went back to her typewriter and made her fingers fly over the keys. He might be willing to have those letters finished next week, but she wasn’t. She wouldn’t enjoy her outing if she left unfinished work at home.

So before he got back, she had them all typed and ready for his signature. And after dinner she hurried breathlessly upstairs to put her small necessities into the old suitcase. For just a moment, when he had offered to take her out shopping, she had thought wistfully of getting a new suitcase or bag or something. This one was so shabby. Then she remembered how much her dear family needed money, and she desisted.

But she was happy as she went about her small preparations and crept into bed at midnight so excited she could hardly sleep. She was going home tomorrow! Would tomorrow never come?

I
t was still quite dark the next morning at five o’clock when Greg parked his car in front of the house and opened the front door with his latchkey. But he found Margaret standing in the hall hatted and cloaked, her little, shabby suitcase on the floor by her side and Mrs. Harris just coming from the dining room with a neat box in one hand and a thermos bottle in the other.

“It’s just a few chicken sandwiches and a cup of coffee,” she said as she extended the two to Greg. “I thought they might come in handy before you get there, for you know she scarcely ate a bite of breakfast. Just drank some orange juice and took one bite of toast.”

“You’re not sick, are you, Miss McLaren?” he asked anxiously. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to start quite so early.”

“No, I’m not one bit sick, Mr. Sterling,” she declared. “I’m just so excited about going home, I couldn’t swallow, that’s all. I tried not to disturb Mrs. Harris. I begged her not to get up at all. I could easily have found something myself, but when I stole carefully downstairs, I found her here before me.”

Greg grinned.

“She’s a winner as a boardinghouse keeper, I should say. I didn’t find anybody having lost sleep on my account at the hotel. I was told the dining room wasn’t open yet, and I had to get a bite at an all-night restaurant.”

You don’t say!” said Mrs. Harris indignantly. “Well, you just come right in here and drink this other cup of coffee and eat an egg and some of this nice, hot toast. I left it on the top of the toaster to keep hot.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Harris, I’ll just take a swallow of your wonderful coffee so I can forget what I had at the restaurant. It was awful stuff, bitter as gall. Too bad you had to get up so early, but we’re profiting by it all the same.”

“Oh, I’m expecting my niece today. I had to get up early anyway to get ready for her.”

“As if you weren’t always ready,” laughed Greg. “Well, I guess we’ll be going along. No thanks! Nothing more to eat. I haven’t got any family or home to be going to. I’m taking my fun by proxy, you see. But I guess I’m too excited to eat, also. Well, good-bye till Saturday probably. Too bad you couldn’t go with us, but we’ll be thinking of you when we eat the sandwiches. Thanks for your thoughtfulness.”

They went out into the cold, crisp morning air and got into the car.

“Would you prefer to take the backseat, Miss McLaren?” asked Greg quite formally. “You could lie down and take another sleep before daylight really comes. Or would you like to sit up front and be chummy?”

“I’ll sit up front and be chummy if you don’t mind,” said Margaret, her eyes sparkling. “You don’t think I could go to sleep now, do you? Why this is the first time in my life I ever started off for an all-day automobile ride! And you talk about sleeping! I want to see how the stars go to bed and listen to the world wake up.”

“Well, it’s the first time in my life, too,” said Greg. “There’s a pair of us. Oh, perhaps I’m mistaken. I used to get up at five to drive the milk delivery truck when I was in high school to make extra money, but that doesn’t count.”

So Margaret got into the front seat, and Greg stowed her suitcase into the back along with a big hamper and his own suitcase, and they started off.

They were out and away from the city before the day began to break faintly. Margaret saw her stars go to bed one by one, saw the night put out its lights and day creep dimly into the east, and her heart was so happy it seemed almost bursting.

It was a crisp, bright morning when the day really got awake, and the road stretched before them like a smooth white ribbon. They were out from the city now and past its suburbs, into the real country, with fields of huddled corn and heaped up pumpkins on every hand, and here and there a gnarled apple tree with a single brown apple hanging by a long, stark brown stem. A place of wide spaces and fallow fields, here and there a space of fall wheat standing out with startling emerald brightness against the frostiness of all the other brown-tinged world. A place of great spreading barns, mostly painted red, and small, cozy white houses green-blinded and sheltered by a group of tall elms or pines.

“This is what I like!” said Greg, pointing out a lovely old white farmhouse that wore a homey look. “There’s some space to breathe out here, and it’s quiet. I don’t know how long I could survive in a city. It didn’t used to be that way when I lived in the hometown. Things were farther apart, and there weren’t so many of them.”

Margaret’s eyes lighted.

“Oh, maybe then you will like my home,” she said. “It’s very still there. You can hear the trees whisper and hear the clouds go by. When anyone comes driving up the mountain, it sounds like an army with banners, and we all rush to the window to see who it is. It’s an event, you know.”

“Will they do that when we come?” asked Greg like a little, pleased boy who was getting ready a surprise.

“Oh yes!” said Margaret. “They will. They’ll be so surprised. And pleased! This lovely car! I don’t think they’ve ever seen a car like this close by. Of course, in the summer we have lots of cars down the mountain where the hotel is, but of late years, Grandfather hasn’t been going down so much. Not since the old horse got lame. And now he’s sold, of course, and they don’t go down at all. They will be proud to see me riding in such state.”

“But if it’s night when we get there,” said Greg, “they can’t see the car. Will they perhaps be frightened?”

“Oh no,” said Margaret, “they are not easily frightened people. They will think it is some stranger perhaps who has lost his way. They will come out with lamps, both of them, and hold them high, and expect to bring any stranger in and offer hot coffee and a place to sleep.”