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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

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BOOK: The Street of the City
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Later that evening there came a timid knock at the door. When Frannie opened it, thinking it was the little girl who sold magazines, she found Kit Creeber standing there with averted face.

“Oh,” she said as he stepped inside the room. “It’s you again. What is it now, another dance?” And she smiled at him, amused.

He twirled his cap and grew red in the face.

“Aw naw! Say, we didn’t get that dance stuff up. It was that fool girl with the yellow hair. She offered us five bucks a piece to take some girls to a dance, and of course we were out for the dough. But we didn’t mean any harm. We meant to carry it through, honest we did, till we saw who you were, and then we beat it. And say, I wantta apologize for the way I treated you that first day at the plant. We didn’t mean anything but just kidding. But when you took it that way Spike got mad. But afterward we saw you were a real lady, and I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forget it.”

Frannie looked at the embarrassed boy in astonishment.

“Why, of course,” she said coldly. “I guess I didn’t quite understand. But you didn’t need to come and apologize.”

“Well, you see I lost something that time I came here for the dance, and I thought I’d come and ask you, did you find it? It means a lot to me. It’s a pass I had, and I’m expected to show it at the gate where I work. I can’t find it anywhere. The gate man is getting awful hot about it, and I thought I’d take a chance asking you if you found it. It was in an envelope in my coat pocket, and when I got home it wasn’t there.”

“I’m sorry,” said Frannie, “we didn’t find anything. I’d be glad to give it back to you if I had. But if you go to Mr. Chalmers, the head of the second-floor department, and explain it to him, he’ll maybe fix it up for you. He’s very kind and fair.”

“Well, but I don’t work there any longer. I’m over at the powder plant.”

“Oh, I see,” said Frannie. “Well, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to suggest then. But usually if you are frank about a thing and tell the truth they will meet you halfway.”

“Thanks awfully,” said Kit and left quickly.

Frannie sat down weakly in her chair and stared at the wall.

“Well, did I ever!” she exclaimed softly to herself. To think that boy would come and apologize! What did he do it for? Was he afraid that somehow he would get connected with the men who were running that strange radio? Or did he maybe have something to do with it? Well, probably not, but at least she needn’t be afraid of him anymore. It was good that he no longer worked in the same plant with her. He might try to get fresh with her again sometime if he was still there. She was glad the nurse and Bonnie were still upstairs and wouldn’t ask questions about him. She didn’t want to tell about that trouble with those two boys. Her mother must never hear of it.

She didn’t think long about it because she found that such thoughts inevitably brought Val Willoughby into her mind, and that was what she was strenuously trying to avoid.

When she went to bed that night and looked out of her window, there she saw the river spread wide and dark with a sheen of silver beginning to gather from the rising moon, which was growing nightly larger. It gave her a twinge of sadness. Why did the moon have such power to take one back over past days, or nights, and spread sorrow over one’s heart? But there! She must hurry and get her clothes ready for the next day and then get to bed. She had no time to sentimentalize. It would be hard enough to get up early in the morning without that! Then when she opened her window the fresh breeze swept stingingly in. Yes, the air was decidedly colder. It wouldn’t take long at a temperature like this to freeze that river again. But what good would that do her when she had promised not to skate while Willoughby was away?

Chapter 19

T
he cold came steadily down that night, freezing everything it touched. It laid an icy clutch on the river and began slowly turning it to glass. The moon lingering late showed a solid stillness where there had been a dark, limpid heave and quiver at sunset hour. The river had definitely succumbed to the cold again, and if there were any little fish in it anywhere they must have hurried shivering to their homes to put on their seal overcoats. And sharply and smoothly down the glassy surface shone the pale silver of moonlight.

Frannie looked out before she crept into her warm bed and said sadly, “The skating will be coming back soon,” and sighed as she laid her dark head down on her pillow. Sighed and shivered and fell asleep from sheer weariness of trying not to think.

No, I will not be silly
, she said over and over to herself.
I shall never give in to disappointment nor have a broken heart. Everything works together for good to those that love the Lord. It will all work out right. I must just trust and wait till He helps me to see how right it is, and then I shall be glad and not feel badly anymore
.

Lady Winthrop looked out of her window in the early morning and saw the ruby light of the first flash of sunrise stealing in a wide crimson sweep over her river, like a flaming carpet. She could see it from her bed as she lay softly there in the great old-fashioned four-poster, with its fine linen draperies. It was a sight she loved to wake early just to see.

“The street of my city has come back!” she said softly to herself. “It has come back to stay awhile longer. And I shall again see those dear young people go down to the city on their flashing skates. They will go down together this time, and I shall watch them, many times, perhaps, before the springtime comes and takes away my street of silver.”

She lay looking at it for some time as the sun rose higher and flashed over tall buildings and towers and pinnacles, studying her vision of the fair city that hovered in her imagination. And then she went on softly to herself again, “And some day, some great day, I shall walk down that street that is ‘made of gold, as it were transparent glass,’ and I shall step up the crystal way to the bank of the city. I shall go on into the city and see the face of my King, my Savior, my Lord Jesus who died for me. I shall look on Him, and be like Him, incredibly like Him. With all my mistakes and sins; it is so wonderful that He can make me like Himself someday. And I shall not be afraid nor ashamed.”

Silence again as the sun climbed higher, and the way where the darkness of the river had been grew broad and rosy.

Then the soft voice went on.

“And I shall live there among those heavenly mansions, far more spacious and beautiful than my dear earthly house, and I shall walk those golden streets. I shall stand on the crystal banks and see the fire mingled with glass that will sometimes come in that great street of the city, my city, my heavenly home. Please God, make me ready for it when the time comes, dressed in the white linen garment of Thine own righteousness, because try as I could all my life I can get no righteousness of my own. And I shall dwell by my street of the city, all the days that shall never end! And my dear ones whom I have lost while on the journey here will be there! My city! My street of the city. Oh, I’m glad it has come back again for a while!”

Three days later when the supper dishes were done and the Fernleys were just settling down to a few minutes’ pleasant talk before the mother was remanded to her room, Frannie stepped to the window and looked out. The great hole in the back of the house had been thoroughly bricked up and cemented and reinforced, so that they felt secure from unexpected intrusion, and there was a cozy cheer over the whole place. They all felt it. And yet there was a sadness in Frannie’s heart. She couldn’t help thinking of the days, though they had been very few, of course, when she and Willoughby had had pleasant companionship. Was it possible that even those few days had spoiled her sweet contentment, her joy in life? Well, that was silly, and she had told her mother that she didn’t intend to be silly; she would not. So she put on a cheerful tone.

“Oh Mother, you should come to the window and look out! It is such a lovely sight. The ice is like a piece of glass, and the moon is almost full. It is worthwhile living here just for this great sight even if for no other reason. Come, Mother, come and look. You can see Lady Winthrop’s ‘street of the city’ as she calls it.”

For Frannie had long ago told her mother all the lovely tales of the sweet old lady that Willoughby had told to her.

So Mrs. Fernley went over to the window and stood with her arm around her daughter looking out on the winter beauty.

“Yes, it is indeed a lovely sight,” she said, “and a lovely idea. I am looking forward to the time when I can go over to that Bible class and get to know that sweet woman better.”

But Frannie said nothing about skating to her work yet, and her mother, knowing little of how long it took to make ice safe for skating, was glad. Somehow it always seemed a big risk for her little girl to go sailing off alone down a river of glass.

“And now,” said Nurse Branner, “it’s time you and Bonnie went to bed.”

It was just then that there came a low tap at the front door, and then the knob turned and in walked Valiant Willoughby!

Frannie turned and looked at him, her eyes wide with a great joy, her face blooming out in smiles.

“Oh, you did come back!” she said, almost as a little girl would have said it.

And Val had eyes for no one else, his rare smile filling the room with good cheer.

“Why sure!” he said. “Didn’t you know I was coming back? That’s what I’ve been intending to do all along.” He went and stood by Frannie and took both her hands in his, looking down at her as if she were the sweetest thing on earth.

And then, with her hands still in his, he turned to the others. “Hello, Bonnie, and Nurse Branner. I’m glad to see you all looking so well. And now, Frannie, aren’t you going to introduce me to your mother? You know, I’ve never rightly met her, just picking her up off the floor and putting her to bed. That isn’t an introduction.”

And so he led her over to her mother, who had gone a few steps toward the stairs as he came in.

Frannie laughed.

“Mother, this is Mr. Willoughby. I know you’ll want to thank him now you’re better for all he did for you when you were taken sick.”

“Oh yes,” said Mrs. Fernley, giving him a smile that made him think of her daughter, it was so sunny and kind.

Val reached for one of her hands and folded it with Frannie’s within his own clasp, a kind of symbol of the united friendship they all felt. “You know,” he said gently, “I like mothers. My own is gone Home, and so I almost envy everyone who still has one left here on earth. I am very glad to know you.”

Mrs. Fernley gave his hand a warm pressure and smiled again, trying to thank him for all his kindness to herself and her daughter, but he waved her thanks away.

“It was nothing,” he said. “But I mustn’t keep you standing. You are still an invalid, aren’t you? May I help you upstairs? Is that where you were going? And may I ask a favor of you? Do you mind if Frannie and I put on our skates and go out on that ice for a few minutes, just to celebrate my getting back? They tell me the ice is solid as the Rock of Gibraltar, and I’m aching to try it. Do you mind?”

“Oh, is it safe? Why of course, go for a little while. Frannie has done nothing but work since you went away. She needs a bit of exercise.”

“Well, that’s all I’ve done, too, so I think we can both enjoy it. The ice is perfect. You look out your window and you’ll see us skimming along.”

“I will,” said the mother, smiling. “Go, Frannie dear, and have a good time.”

“Oh Mother, and can I go sometime, too?” pleaded Bonnie.

“Why, of course you can, Bonnie,” said Willoughby. “I’ll come over sometime before it is bedtime, and Frannie and I will take you out, one in each of your hands, holding you up till you learn for yourself. I think I can find a pair of skates at my aunt’s that will about fit you. My little cousins used to skate, and I’m sure I’ve seen some small skates over there. Will that please you?”

“Oh Muvver! Can I?” asked Bonnie entranced.

“Why yes, dear, that will be wonderful!”

So Willoughby helped Mrs. Fernley up the stairs, and they said good night. And then Frannie got her skates and they went out together into the clear, cold night.

BOOK: The Street of the City
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