The Red Signal (Grace Livingston Hill Book) (18 page)

But perhaps the greatest surprise of all was when Hilda turned to see her engineer, whom, it will be remembered, she had seen but once at close range (except a distant fleeting view of his head and shoulders in the cab of his engine) and whom she remembered always in blue jean overalls.

He was dressed now in the full uniform of an officer of the United States Army; and fine and handsome did he look as he stood ready to salute her, pausing to admire his little friend, whom he had not known was so beautiful until his mother had put on the finishing touches of suitable garments.

There was unmistakable admiration in both pairs of eyes as the two young people stood facing each other for a moment, a flash of something recognized from each to the other, and then they came back to themselves. Hilda, with a flame of scarlet in her cheeks and a swift drooping of her shy eyelids as she realized that she had been letting her thoughts sit unrebuked upon her face.

It was young Karl who brought them all to their senses again. He had been quietly in the background, had gone through the introductions with fairly creditable efficiency, and was now standing at the window looking out.

“Oh, gee!” he remarked to himself eagerly. “Is that the Capitol up there on the hill? Say, Hilda, let's go out and look at it!”

“Why, of course!” said Mrs. Stevens in her easy, pleasant voice. “That's what we are all going to do right away. Unless your mother feels too tired, in which case she and I will stay here and rest and talk. Are you too tired, Mrs. Lessing?”

“Oh, I'm not too tired,” said the other woman with a bright smile that reminded one of Hilda. “I'm not tired at all now I've found my dear girl. I feel as if I never would be tired again. But I'm too shabby. I had to come away without any preparation whatever, and, of course, I had no idea of coming to a place like this. Now we are here the children must see the nation's Capitol. They might not have another opportunity. But no one need stay with me. I’ll just sit by the window in this lovely comfortable chair and look out while you go. It's very good of you to take them. But I couldn't think of going out looking like this.”

“Oh, is that all?" smiled Mrs. Stevens happily. “Why, I've plenty of things, a whole trunk full and I think we are about of a size. Of course, you will want to change after travelling so far this warm weather. Just come with me and we'll see if we can find anything that fits you.”

She led the frightened little mother away to her own room. But Mrs. Lessing did not stay frightened long. The other woman was too cordial and spoke too charmingly of Hilda for her to hold her diffidence; and before they knew it they had forgotten what they came for and were sitting hand-in-hand talking about their two children and how they had saved each other's lives, until Karl, staring impatiently out of the window, grew quite in despair. For there behind him was his own sister, transformed into a society lady unexpectedly by just clothes, so that he couldn't feel quite at home with her, even though she did hug him and choke him almost to death; and there was that perfectly good young engineer transformed into a perfectly stunning soldier—officer, too—and though just as friendly as could be but a minute before, now altogether oblivious of his existence. And there was the Capitol gleaming in the sunshine up there on the hill calling his impatient feet to climb. Karl couldn't understand it. Things seemed to have started out pretty well, and now to have come to this sudden standstill!

He turned around to appeal to Hilda, and found her and the young soldier deep in conversation. They were telling each other what had happened at Schwarz's after Hilda, had telephoned about the plan to blow up the bridge. They were sitting on the couch quite close together and they were telling it into each other's eyes. They didn't seem to notice Karl at all, though he came and sat quite near to hear all about the powder and the spies. The young officer got out something from his pocket and showed it to Hilda. That little old red scarf! His old scarf that he used to wear to school! Now what was there in that? What in the world did he want to carry that around for? He was asking Hilda if he might keep it, and he was putting it back in his pocket again carefully as if it were something precious. What could he want of a faded old scarf like that? Such a hot day, too!

Then the soldier put his hand over Hilda's and looked in her eyes and talked in low tones. He told her what a wonderful little girl she had been, and Karl felt left out and went back to the window. He sat there in a kind of impatient disgust watching the people passing on the street below. Did all nice things have to be stopped and end in such silly ways? Would they never start for the Capitol? What difference did it make what people wore?

At last the two mothers came back, but what had been done to his mother? She was transformed! 

SHE was dressed in a soft clinging black gown and a big transparent black hat; and she looked young, younger than he ever remembered seeing her look before. He had a feeling that the earth was reeling under him and he might never dare to be intimate with his mother again. He went up to her shyly, looked in her face, touched her hand, and she stooped and kissed him. There were tears in her eyes! Had that other woman been making her cry? But no, they were happy tears, for she was smiling. They were all smiling! What did they see to smile about? Was it funny to be so long getting ready to go to a place?

Then Hilda brought her medal and told them about her visit to the President and he forgot all about his impatience. Here, indeed, was something to smile about! He was proud of his sister! His sister! He looked at her wonderingly and drew himself up. To think she had done all that! And she was beautiful, yes, she was! He had never noticed it before, but she was really beautiful, and she looked fine beside that nice big soldier.

“Do you know, Dan,” said Mrs. Stevens, “Mrs. Lessing used to be the principal of a high school before she was married? I've been telling her that I believe your father knows of just the right position for her. You know he has been looking for a woman fitted to fill that vacancy left by the death of Mrs. Clemons. It pays well and has the added inducement of being work that the Government needs., badly just now. Do you think that might work?”

“Indeed, I do!” said the young man with an appreciative flash in his eyes for the mother who had stepped in and done the very thing for this stranger that he had hoped she would do when he brought her here. “Telephone father about it to-night, won't you, mother, before he hunts up someone else? Then they could live in Philadelphia and you could put them onto things and help them to know nice people. And Miss Lessing could finish her education.”

He smiled at Hilda.

“That is a beautiful dream,” said Hilda smiling back, “but you mustn't turn my head with such ideas. I know a thing like that could never come true for me.”

“I don't see why not!” said the young soldier with a gentle intonation. “You deserve anything good the world has to offer.”

The sweet color swept in a pink wave over Hilda's fair face, but Karl suddenly supplied an antidote to the tension of the moment:

“Oh, gee! I'd like to live in Philadelphia! That is—after I've seen the Capitol and a few other places!” The sentence ended in a patient sigh, and they all laughed at the obvious hint.

“Well, now we're going to see the Capitol at once!” said Mrs. Stevens pleasantly. “And it really isn't late at all yet. We'll have time to see a number of places; and then after lunch we can drive to Arlington and Mount Vernon if you like.”

It was while they wandered through the grounds of Washington's beautiful home at Mount Vernon that Hilda and Stevens had their talk. The others were in the house studying the wonderful old rooms filled with their fine mahogany furniture, quaint candlesticks and many queer, old-fashioned relics.

The two young people wandered down to the tomb and gazed for a moment in silence through the iron grating, and read the inscription which commemorates the life and death of the Father of his Country.

“Do you know, I think it is quite fitting that you should come here just now.” said the young man. “You are a true daughter of a democracy of which George Washington was the father. If he were alive he, too, would give you his blessing for the loyal way in which you have served your country in the face of great peril to yourself. You are as much a soldier in this war as I am. You should wear a uniform, too, by rights, and have a commission. In a few days I am going to France to do my part in this great war, I hope; but it is very unlikely that I shall have opportunity to do anything great in comparison to what you have done for the cause. You are only a young girl, but you have been as brave and true and quick as any man could have been. And the great man who lies in that tomb would have been the first one to have told you so if he were living.”

They had turned from the tomb and were walking down the close-cut lawn to the terrace overlooking the river. Hilda lifted her shining eyes to the young soldier's face and spoke eagerly:

“But I could not have done anything at all if it had not been for you. In the first place, I shouldn't have been alive to do it if you had not saved me from that express train! And I should not have known enough to do anything if you had not talked about spies and told me to send word to Washington if I found any. Of course, when I got hold of that suitcase I had to bring it myself. There was no other way to get it here safely. Anybody would have done it. Don't you see, after all, it was really you who did every bit of it?”

“No, you sweet child, I don't see anything but you and your true loyal soul in your eyes,” he answered, smiling down at her. “Let us sit down under this tree. I want to ask you a few questions.”

There was something in his voice and manner that made Hilda suddenly conscious of herself and her extraordinary situation, and brought the pink to her cheeks and the shining wonder to her eyes. She sat down on the grassy bank in a tumult of amazement at herself. Here was she, the erstwhile kitchen maid of the Schwarz truck farm, attired in beautiful and modish garments and sitting at her ease with a son of wealth and culture, nay, a soldier of rank and accomplishments! How had it come about? How was it that she was not covered with confusion before him, she a shy little school girl who had never been into society? Were all rich and cultured people like this if you only got to know them well? Perhaps, if he had not been an engineer she never would have known him at all. For, although he might have saved her life, yet she felt sure she would never have felt so free with him, nor confided in him as she did, if he had been dressed like a gentleman instead of having on that old blue blouse and greasy cap. It somehow made him just a man, and swept away all class distinctions that would have made her shy. And yet, how perverse was the human heart! Now that she knew him she liked him better dressed like a gentleman! It. had not been the clothes after all. It was just that he was a true gentleman all the time, whatever he wore, only at first there had been no marks of the barriers of wealth to keep her from knowing the man.

All this swept vaguely through her mind as she settled herself on the velvety turf and leaned back against the old tree trunk, looking down at the calm, steady river flowing by. Down there, close to the water, another girl in a white dress with a flutter of pink ribbons, was walking with a soldier. Hilda's heart swelled with sudden pride. She had a soldier, too, just for the day. She need not look at that other girl with envy. She was looking well, and having a beautiful companionship with one who could stand with the best of the land. It was a wonderful thing to have come to her. Of course, it was not to last. He would go on, away, to France, and probably she would never see him again for years, perhaps never! But she would have it in her memory to take out and think about and perhaps tell—no, she would never tell! It should be hid in her heart. She would tell how the President had once talked with her; but this young man —this was her own beautiful memory to keep in her heart all the days of her life. There might be other Presidents, but there would never be another like this one! Her cheeks glowed a little deeper with the thought of what this admission must mean. She turned to look at him with sudden realization that he had been silent a long time, and discovered that he was watching her. Then their eyes met and his face burst into the wonderful smile that seemed to flood her very soul. No, there would never be another like him, and she must keep the memory of every word and look in her heart for the time when she would walk her quiet way alone again.

“I have been wondering,” he said, with what seemed to her great irrelevance, and still looking earnestly at her, “whether you have a lot of friends in France to whom you are writing?”

“Oh, no!” she said blankly. The conversation seemed to have been suddenly diverted from the personal to the general, and she sat up a little straighter and tried to realize that she was only a casual acquaintance with whom he was trying to be pleasant for the day, and, of course, it was very good of him. “Oh, no! Karl is my only brother. We hadn't anybody to go.”

“But you had other friends, school friends and neighbors, didn't you?”

“Oh, yes!” said Hilda, with a little sigh of indifference. “The boys in school enlisted, or were drafted, but I never knew any of them very well. We lived two miles from the high school. I had to go on the trolley. Mother didn't like me to be out late, and I always went right home to help her. I didn't go to any of the high school dances, and, of course, I didn't get acquainted. I knew them all, but just to speak to, not anything more. There wasn't time. I always wanted all my extra time for study because I wanted to get ahead, so I could teach and do a lot of things for mother. Mother didn't care for the neighbors around us. She hoped we'd be able to move away to another part of the city soon, so I would have the kind of friends she liked for me. But father died and everything was changed.”

There was a lingering look of tenderness in his glance before he took up his questions again:

“Then I wonder if you could find time to write to me while I'm away?”