“I can’t tell you here!” she said sharply. “I must be where no one can overhear. Besides, it’s a long story, and you wouldn’t understand unless you heard the whole.”
“But what is the nature of this thing that is so important? You can surely tell me that. And why does whatever it is have to be transacted during a holiday at Wyndringham’s house party?”
“Because the count is there.”
“Well, what on earth has he got to do with it? If the count wants to see me on business, can’t he come to my office in the city? He surely would understand that a man does not want to do business while he is on a vacation. Demeter, you don’t understand that this is holiday week, and there can’t be any such pressing business. I really don’t see my way clear to going up there.”
“Alan, you are simply impossible! I thought you were a man and wanted to get on in this world. I thought you were my friend and wanted to help me when I need advice and protection. And here you are acting like a big child! Staying around in a country house playing Christmas tree and hanging up your stocking with a lot of hicks!”
Daryl had come downstairs softly and slipped inside the living room door just behind the Christmas tree, reaching up to unfasten some trifling ornament that one of the unwelcome invaders was demanding as a souvenir, and though she had not tried to hear, Demeter’s voice was most penetrating! All in the room could have heard if they had not been engaged in their own chatter with one another. Daryl’s fingers fumbled with the glittering bauble and the frail thing slipped and went tinkling to the floor smashing in a thousand fragments. But Alan’s voice came clear and stern.
“Will you kindly remember that you are speaking of some of the dearest friends I have in the world?” he said. “As for advice, you wouldn’t take mine if I gave it, I’m sure, and I can’t imagine Demeter Cass needing protection. If there were no other way I am sure you could prevail upon the same company who brought you here to take you to your home. But as far as I am concerned I have definitely decided that I cannot come up to the house party at this time.”
There was silence for an instant, and Daryl, trying to reach another silver bauble on a higher branch, heard their footsteps coming toward the doorway where she stood. Then Demeter’s voice, quite changed, full of distress and tender appeal for sympathy. Was it real or just expert acting?
“Alan, why have you changed so? Why won’t you come back among your own kind?”
They were standing just within the doorframe now, and Daryl had slipped around on the other side of the tree. She could see them perfectly, and hear them, too, although they apparently did not see her. Demeter was looking up earnestly into Alan’s face, and he was looking gravely, thoughtfully down into hers. His voice was very serious as he answered.
“I’m not so sure they are my own kind,” he said. The girl stared at him with wide contemptuous eyes.
“You want to get on and be a success in the world, don’t you? You want to meet the right people who will help you rise quickly, and help you grow wealthy, don’t you? You certainly don’t think these people are the kind to help you to rise, do you?”
She cast a scornful look around the room.
“That depends on where I want to rise to,” answered Alan quickly. And then almost sternly he added, “You seem to forget that these people are my very dear friends. You call them farm people, but do you know that they are every one college graduates?”
“Oh,” said Demeter, with a toss of her handsome head, “that doesn’t mean a thing in the line you should take!”
Suddenly she brought out a gold cigarette case and lighted a cigarette, taking a long puff at it and watching him with her green eyes narrowly.
“I wouldn’t!” said Alan sharply.
“You wouldn’t?” said Demeter with a scornful laugh. “Why not?”
“Because Mrs. Devereaux won’t like it, and you are a visitor in her house. It isn’t courteous.”
“Oh, yes?” said Demeter with an amused lifting of her eyebrows. “What will she do about it?”
“We won’t give her a chance to decide,” he said, and suddenly he reached over and took the smoking cigarette from Demeter’s surprised hold, opened the front door, and flung it far out into the snow.
“Well, really!” said the young woman. “Just how did you figure out you had a right to do that?”
“I didn’t have the right,” he said without smiling. “I took it.” And with that he walked across to the people in the living room and began to talk to the rest of the party who were wandering around helping themselves to candy and examining the books on the table. They seemed particularly astonished by an open Bible that Lance had left lying there when he went out to shovel snow.
“What a pretty binding!” said one girl picking the Bible up and feeling its beautiful leather. “What is it?” She glanced at the heading. “Mercy! It’s a Bible! I didn’t know they did them up so artistically! What a waste!” And she dropped it as if it had burned her.
“A Bible!” screamed another girl. “That must be what’s the matter with Alan, he’s gone pious on us! Is that why you won’t go back with us?” She turned in mockery to face him.
But Alan only smiled.
“I might consider that as a reason,” he said. Suddenly Demeter Cass whirled toward the door.
“Come on, folks! Let’s go! No use to hang around any longer. Alan’s completely daffy.”
“I want you to know that I appreciate your coming over for me in that delightful sleigh,” said Alan, courteous to the last, and including the whole visiting party in his smile. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness a lot, but I couldn’t make my plans fit in this time!”
“I’ll see you in town,” called back Demeter as she marched down the path past the snowman. “At my apartment, please! I’ll call you up. I hate offices!”
Alan did not reply. He closed his lips in a firm line and stood with his brows drawn in thought as they drove noisily away. But Daryl disappeared into the kitchen and made herself very busy for the next half hour, helping to get the lunch on the table.
She could see Alan and Lance in the other room sitting together with the Bible in their hands. She wondered what they were discussing. How much of those quick answers had he meant when he replied to those impudent callers? Was he really interested to know more of the Bible, or was he just being courteous to Lance? But what concern of hers was it, anyway? She had done her witnessing to the faith that was in her, and that was all her responsibility in the matter. She wanted to like him, to believe in him, even though she might never see him anymore after he went home. But after all he did belong to another world, in spite of all that he had said to that girl in the doorway. He was just talking likely, to see what she would say. Maybe they had had a quarrel and that was why he hadn’t gone with them to the house party.
Yet back in her heart without in the least realizing it, she was hugging the thought that he hadn’t gone. He had chosen to stay here!
At the dinner table, he apologized for staying.
“I suppose I ought to have taken myself out of your way when they came for me,” he said ruefully, “but there were some things I did want to ask Lance before I left, and you all had been so very kind I didn’t like to leave, not that way anyway. I wasn’t in the mood for a house party, not of that sort. I find my sojourn with you has spoiled me for things of that sort. But you mustn’t think I’m going to stay indefinitely with you. I called up the garage just before we went out shoveling, and they said my car ought to be ready late this afternoon, and they thought the roads between here and my city were pretty well cleared. I ought to be able to get through tonight, part way at least, so I won’t presume upon your kindness much longer.”
“Where did you get that presuming business?” growled Lance. “Didn’t we ask you to stay? Don’t you know we want you? Don’t you know our hearts were in our mouths when that outfit came barging along after you, for fear you would go and leave us?”
Then the whole
family joined in with protests and told how glad they were he didn’t leave them, and how of course they wouldn’t think of letting him go that night, even if his car was finished, which they heartily hoped it wouldn’t be, even if the roads were reported to be open again. He must certainly wait until it was surely safe. They would worry about him. He was one of them now, and whether he liked or not, he couldn’t get away from their friendship.
Then Alan grew eloquent in telling how much he hated to leave, and during the talk Daryl looked up with glowing cheeks and eyes that carried a sudden starry look and said quietly that his being there for Christmas had made it a very happy time for them all. Alan’s eyes met hers, and suddenly both their hearts went into a joyous tumult which neither of them could control.
All the rest of the day Alan kept watching Daryl, their eyes now and then meeting, each thinking that the other did not know that something strangely pleasant and happy and exciting was between them, something they had bidden be crushed, but which both were glad to know had not died in spite of their best efforts.
They went sledding in the afternoon when the dishes were done, on the old bobsled, down the hill behind the barn, and all of them forgot the cares and perplexities of their young lives and were wildly happy, cheeks tingling with the cold, eyes shining, hands clasping helping hands, strong arms holding on the swift beautiful way down the hill.
After the delicious supper, which they all made together, just as if none of them were company at all, they had a little Bible study before they did another jigsaw puzzle.
And when the puzzle was put away Ruth sat down at the piano and Daryl brought her violin, and they had lovely music again. Alan, as he sat back in the comfortable chair, watching the lovely face of Daryl as she played her violin, thrilled anew at the charm of her. After all, that Harold person hadn’t turned up all day, and his roses hadn’t been in evidence. They seemed to have forgotten them completely. Was he so much to her as they had made him feel?
And then, right in the middle of the lovely strains of the most exquisite part of the Messiah, there came a loud knocking on the front door, a screaming of the doorbell and a thumping with the brass knocker. The music stopped suddenly, while they gave startled looks at one another and came swiftly back to earth, considering what possibility was before them now. Daryl’s first thought was that Demeter Cass had come back to get Alan, and that this time she would succeed in carrying him away from them.
But it was Father Devereaux, grave and sweet, who went to the door and ushered in the handsome renegade, Harold Warner.
He came frowning into the room as if they were the recalcitrant ones and glowered around upon them, selecting Daryl out of the group.
“Hello, folks,” he said to them all casually, while looking straight at his girl. “I couldn’t get here sooner, Daryl, but I’ve come after you now! Hurry up and get your togs on! I’ve got a sleigh out here, and I’m taking you to a dance. It’s swell. Get on your best bib and tucker and be snappy about it! It’s miles away, and I don’t want to miss anything.”
It was Ruth who slipped out to the refrigerator room and gathered the crimson roses from their seclusion, putting them into a big silver pitcher, and sliding them unobserved into the room on a little table near the dining room door. Ruth did thoughtful things like that.
But Daryl didn’t even know she had done it. She was staring white-faced, wide-eyed at the young man who had been her beau, seeing him as she had never seen him before.
Chapter 13
Alan had not needed the belated introduction to tell him who this good-looking, arrogant youth was. He had recognized the voice at once, and suddenly the evening and all its quiet delight was dashed in a thousand pieces. He wished he had gone home, gone anywhere, even out into a snow-drifted world, so that he might have missed meeting this young man.
Then he looked at Daryl and his heart was wrung. She stood there white and unsmiling, looking steadily at the young man.
“Hurry up, Darrie!” commanded the young autocrat. “I’ll give you five minutes!” And he pulled back the sleeve of his handsome fur overcoat and glanced at his wrist watch. “Can you make it in that?”
Daryl’s chin was lifted just the least bit haughtily, and her voice was very cool as she answered.
“No!” she said. “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I have guests here, Harold!”
“Guests?” His quick eyes went swiftly around the room, passing over Ruth and fastening on Alan. His brows drew down in a frown, and he flashed Alan a contemptuous, annihilating glance.
“Guests?” His eyebrows lifted questioningly. “I’m quite sure your guests would be willing to excuse you. This is an unusual opportunity for you to meet important people, Daryl, and give you an entrée into a new circle. But you’ll have to hurry. I promised I’d be right back.”
“Promises have been broken before this.” Daryl managed a light laugh. “No, Harold. It is quite impossible. I really don’t care to go, even if I could. An entrée into that kind of a social circle wouldn’t interest me in the least.”
“But you don’t understand,” said the young man, vexed, flashing a glare of annoyance at Alan. “For sweet pity’s sake, isn’t there some place we can go by ourselves for a minute? I want to explain!”
But he had scarcely finished before he discovered that the others had fairly melted away, and they were alone. Still Daryl did not move.
“You are acting like a naughty child!” said the young man angrily. “I haven’t time to argue with you, and I ought to go off and leave you and let you bear the consequences. If it weren’t that this means a lot to me in a social way I would. But if you are to be tied up with me”—he gave a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening and lowered his voice a trifle—“don’t get on your high horse just because of a silly fanatical idea you have—”
“Please don’t consider yourself tied up in any way,” said Daryl haughtily.
“Now listen, Daryl—!” He strode over to where she stood. “Don’t be a fool! Go upstairs and get into your things, quick! We can talk this out on the way! It’s a lot of silly nonsense anyway, and you might as well learn now as any time that people have to do as the world does or—!”
“You’re wasting your time, Harold, I’m not going!”
“But Daryl, you see this means a lot to me financially.”
“Then you’d better hurry along,” said Daryl decisively. “I shouldn’t be an asset at all in a thing like this. I’m positively not going!”
Angrily he strode to the door; then he paused and gave a quick, searching look around, his eyes resting perplexedly on the silver pitcher of crimson roses glowing in the doorway.
“Didn’t my roses get here?” He frowned, fairly glaring at her.
“Oh yes, they came,” said Daryl sweetly, suddenly realizing the roses by her side. “Yes, they came Christmas night. The man nearly froze to death getting them here, but they came! They’re very beautiful! Thank you!” She said it most formally.
“Those aren’t the ones I ordered!” he growled. “I told him pink ones. I insisted on pink ones. He promised to get them.”
“They couldn’t get pink ones,” she said, still composedly. “He sent the best he had. He had trouble to find anybody who was willing to bring them out here. His own boy is sick and the drifts were awful!”
“I hadn’t any trouble getting here. The way from Collamer is perfectly clear.”
“Yes?” said Daryl. “But the snowplow has been out here twice since then. Besides, you are in a sleigh. The boy was walking!”
“Walking?” he said incredulously. “Seems to me that’s not very great efficiency in a florist.”
Daryl said nothing, and he stood a moment looking at her.
“Come on, Daryl, be a good sport and come! I came all this way after you!”
“No,” said Daryl firmly. “I don’t wish to come!”
“Mad yet? Oh, very well!” And he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, s
lamming it after him. Daryl could hear him whistling a jazzy song as he sprang into the sleigh and drove noisily away, the sleigh bells jangling irregularly in thin notes far apart. They were an ancient string of bells with some missing.
The house was very still for a moment after he had gone, as if the rest of the family had suddenly been spirited away, although in reality each individual member was awaiting developments, ready to efface themselves if that seemed the thing to do at that critical moment.
Then Daryl’s voice rang out clear and steady, under perfect control.
“Come on, folks, where are you? Are we going to finish our music or not?” And her violin swelled out in the tender melody.
“He shall feed His flock like a shepherd—”
They all trooped back smiling with relief and took their places, and Mother Devereaux with fine intuition slyly slipped the crimson roses into the dark dining room out of sight.
It was a rare evening, even happier than the day before. All the happier for the events that had threatened to wreck it. Twice that day alien forces had appeared and nearly overwhelmed them, but they had risen above them. Alan, as he stood near to Daryl singing while she played her violin, watched furtively her lovely profile and exulted in the way she was bearing herself. How she had risen to the occasion and put that fellow in his place! How coolly she had spoken, how clear-cut her sentences! There had been no hesitation. And he hadn’t been so cocksure of himself when he went away either! One could tell that by the very slam of the door as he left.
Oh, he would likely come back and make it up. Daryl was too lovely a girl to be dropped so easily! Perhaps he would learn his lesson for a time, perhaps not, but anyway he would make her think he had, and probably get her in the end, more the pity. But tonight, at least she was theirs, head held high, lips smiling, forced perhaps, but nonetheless lovely, thrilling in the music she was playing! She was riding on the top wave of victory, and Alan was glad and proud of her.
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