Astra

by Grace Livingston Hill

  “Well, I can’t help it. I want those slippers, and I intend to have them! You might at least come upstairs and help me find them, Astra!” She darted an angry look at Astra and dashed out of the room and upstairs.

  Astra listened and heard her footsteps going up the second flight, then she rose to follow.

  “No,” said Miriam, “don’t go, Astra. Eat your breakfast and then run down to the shoe shop for me. I left a pair of shoes there to have the heels straightened, and I need them.”

  “But Miriam, you haven’t time to go after things. It’s almost time we started,” said her husband.

  “Oh, I think we have. Hurry, Astra, you can make it, I’m sure. They are the only really comfortable shoes I have for walking.”

  “Well, why didn’t you attend to them before?”

  Astra swallowed the rest of her breakfast in haste and got herself down to the shoe shop in a hurry. When she came rushing back with the shoes, the car was already at the door, and her cousin Duke stood impatiently beside it, looking anxiously up toward the house.

  Miriam came out presently, and after a sharp call from her father, Clytie at last emerged, a sullen look upon her face. Her farewell to Astra was vengeful. But there was no time to say more, for the car door shut with a snap and they were on their way, Miriam calling out last-minute directions to Astra—something about the house and some mending she might attend to while they were gone.

  But Astra scarcely heard her. Her eyes were full of dismay as she watched the car disappear around the next corner and realized how alone she was in the world now.

  Slowly she went into the house, picking up as she went, things that had been scattered, her thoughts almost bitter at the look Clytie had given her. How unfair Clytie was! Somehow she didn’t believe those Pullman slippers had really been lost. She felt that Clytie had only been carrying out her promise that she would be sorry about not lending her money. Nevertheless, she went into the rooms that looked so much as if a hurricane had struck them, and quietly, carefully, put them in order, searching as she went. If she found the slippers, she would send them on after them. But no slippers came to light. If there really were any slippers, Astra thought to herself, they were probably stowed carefully in Clytie’s suitcase, whence they would conveniently turn up when they were needed.

  So at last, worn out with the last few hurried days in which she had so willingly sacrificed her own ways for the family good, she climbed to the third floor, thinking to sit down and read a little while and get rested before she did anything else. But when she opened her door, such chaos met her gaze as drove the thought of rest entirely from her mind.

  All the bureau drawers were pulled out and set about on the floor, their contents scattered hither and yon. The bed was pulled to pieces. The pillow cases were peeled off and flung in a crumpled heap. Even the pillows had been ripped at one corner and a few feathers were drifting about as Astra walked around excitedly. Her frightened eyes searched the room, seeking the contents of her lower bureau drawer. And then suddenly she saw it. The little carved box that she loved so much because it had been one of her mother’s precious treasures. Long ago when Astra’s mother had first given it to her, it had been the place in which she had kept her little string of coral beads that her grandmother had given her. Her jewel chest, she had quaintly called it. But later, when she grew older, and had put her little hoard of childish treasures all together in a larger box, this little box had been carried about with her as just a treasure in itself. Always closed and locked, with the tiny key on the little chain in the secret hiding place under her watch in her watch case.

  But now to her horror, she saw the little box wide open, upside down and yawning among clothes and stockings and hairpins and strings of beads. The hinges were bent back, and one was broken away, hanging free and loose. She felt as if someone had struck her with a sharp knife. With a little cry like the sound of a hurt bird, she dropped to her knees in the tumult of clothes and collars and dainty fineries, and took it up gently, as if it were human and could be hurt. And now she saw that the box had been forcibly opened, perhaps by flinging it to the floor, or striking it with a hairbrush or a heavy bottle. That was it! Her witch hazel bottle! It was standing on the bureau where she never left it. It belonged in her little bathroom on the shelf. And the bottle was cracked. The witch hazel was seeping out. Yes, the box had been first flung on the floor and then pounded with the bottle. She could just see the face of the determined, angry girl as she did it. She had forced the box open, and there it lay ruined, broken. But where was the money? It was gone!

  Astra searched wildly, then carefully, through everything in the room, but there was not even a single dollar left! Yes, Clytie had her revenge.

  As she searched through the wreckage with the tears drenching her face, Astra could see in memory the angry look on Clytie’s face as she cried out, “You’ll be good and sorry!”

  At last, after a long, careful search through her entire room, hoping that perhaps Clytie had only played a trick and might have repented at the last and left her at least a little of her money, Astra dropped upon her knees and buried her hot, tear-wet face in the cool length of sheet that had been flung across the head of the mattress and trailed down upon the floor. She knelt there and sobbed softly to herself, for even now in her despair she was aware that she was not alone in the house. The old housekeeper was still there, and the maid, and they must not hear her weep and perhaps report on it to her relatives.

  After softly sobbing for some minutes, she at last got quiet enough to bring her heart to a little pitiful prayer, remembering her father’s words during those last days when he knew he was going to leave her.

  “Don’t ever forget,” he had said, “that nothing is too small to bring to God in prayer. No trouble is too small for Him to notice and to give you comfort when you are distressed. Just get in the habit of bringing everything to Him. Say, ‘Lord, here’s something I can’t do anything about. I’m afraid of what it is going to be, so won’t You please take it, manage it, and bring it out the way You want it to be!”

  She had remembered that many times in lesser situations than this, and it had comforted her to pray. It seemed to take out of her that burning desire to rush at those who had caused her trouble and demolish them, tear them limb from limb. It seemed to bring calm in the midst of the tempest in her heart.

  So, after a little, she was able to lay the whole matter before her Lord and ask guidance.

  When she arose from her knees and went patiently about clearing up the room and putting it in perfect order once more, she seemed to be waiting for God to tell her what to do.

  Before the bell rang for her solitary meal, she had so far recovered her equilibrium that she had washed away the signs of tears and smoothed her hair, and peace was upon her brow.

  For more and more the conviction had been growing within her as she worked that this was not the place for her to be living any longer. This trouble was not something she could bring out in the open and have cleared up. There would always be bitterness between herself and Clytie, for Clytie resented her presence in their home and would always be jealous of everything that was done for her, every favor granted. It was hopeless to try to do anything about it. She must go away. And surely her father, if he were here now, would agree with her.

  And of course this would be the time to go, while they were all away and there could be no discussion about it. Just write a nice note to Cousin Miriam and thank her and Cousin Duke for their kindness in opening their home to her when she was first left alone, tell them that now she felt it was time to relieve them of the burden of her continual presence, that it would be better for Clytie, too, and then just go. By the time they got back and realized that she had really meant it, and they got around to protest, she would have found a place for herself where she was comfortable and wanted to stay, and they would finally subside. She felt sure she knew those cousins well enough to be sure that none of them would mourn very much for
her absence, or have pains in their conscience for allowing her to stay away, and she would be on her own and could make a new and tolerable life for herself.

  But there was one almost insurmountable objection to her going now. Her money was gone! Absolutely! All of it! Her careful search through her room had revealed only a fifty-cent piece, five dimes, and two quarters. How was she to go away anywhere with only a dollar and a half?

  As she idly ate the unattractive lunch that the two maids had provided for her, she was puzzling her brains as to how she could get money to go away, and if she had the money, where she would go. When she finished her lunch, she hurried upstairs to look over what she owned and see if there was anything she could sell that would bring her enough to pay her for parting with it.

  It was the memory of all this, and the anguish of the few hours before she started on this journey, that came flashing into Astra’s mind when she awoke in her berth two days later. It was like a picture of a former life that seemed very long ago. It was hard for a moment or two to struggle back into the present and remember. Why had she ever started on this journey, and what was there for her to do this morning that would start in a few minutes now, in this new life she had come into?

  Chapter 4

  Cameron had asked Astra to wait for word from him in the morning, and she was scarcely dressed and ready for the day before the elderly porter from the night before came ambling down to her section.

  “De gemmen say he ’bliged ta he’p wid de ’rangements, an’ take de ole missus out ta her car when we ’rive, an’ he say would yoh let me ordah yoh breakfus sent to yoh right hyeah? He says that will be least trouble ta yoh.”

  “Oh, why yes of course. Thank you. Just orange juice, buttered toast, and coffee. That’s all.”

  And presently she was sitting there eating the pleasant, simple breakfast and looking at the thick patterns of frosty ferns and mountains that now decorated the windows. The snow had come in good earnest, and she was glad. It was nice to have a real winter and to feel free from the constant espionage and bickering of her cousin’s home. She wondered what her father would have thought about it if he had known just what she was to go through. Surely he would have tried to make some other arrangement for her than to stay with Miriam.

  But the sun had come out and was lighting up a glorious white world. It was almost Christmas, and there was snow! She remembered her childish delight at snow for Christmas, which had lasted through the years. That was something to be glad for, anyway, even if she was alone.

  Then her thoughts went back to her hectic preparations and her wild search for something to turn into money.

  There had been answers to prayer all along the way, and a sure indication that she was right in going away. She had begun her search by asking the Lord to please provide the money if He wanted her to go. And then she had started that systematic search.

  She had got out a box of old trinkets, scarcely hoping that any of them would be profitable. But first of all she came upon a heavy gold chain and a pair of bracelets to match that had been given to her by an odd old lady who had an apartment near theirs one winter while they were staying in New York. Astra hadn’t liked the old lady very much. She was always asking inquisitive questions about her father’s writing. And Astra never liked the jewelry, though she had to be polite about it, of course. But it was utterly unsuitable for so young a girl to wear, and she had no tender memories of the old lady, who was all too evidently trying to attract the attention of Astra’s father. But the old lady seemed to have plenty of money, and likely the chain and bracelets were worth something. There was no reason in the world why she should not sell them. Their marking showed they were solid gold, not plated.

  She went on searching through the jewelry, finding a number of gold trinkets, gold collar buttons, a couple of old watches with no sentimental value to them, some gold spectacles belonging to her father’s old uncle, some outmoded bits of sterling silver. There was quite a handful of things. Perhaps they were not all sterling, but it might be she could get something for them. She remembered hearing her cousin speak of a good place to take such things, where they were paying the highest prices for old gold and silver.

  When she had gathered these things together, she went to her wardrobe and looked it over. There were two garment bags containing some evening dresses. One her cousin Miriam had sent up for her a little over a week ago, insisting she should have it for the Christmas party they were expecting to give. That was before they suddenly decided to go to California for Christmas instead.

  It wasn’t a dress that Astra particularly liked, but Cousin Miriam said it was smart, and that was what she wanted Astra to have, so she had finally succumbed and bought it. Astra had bought it herself, paid for it with her own money. It wasn’t a gift from the family, and so she felt free to get rid of it.

  Carefully she folded it and laid it in a suit box, the very box it had come in. And then she gathered out a few unnecessary embroidered silk trifles of underwear. They were all bought about the same time and had not been worn. They probably were all returnable.

  Breathlessly, she folded and boxed them, and at last she had quite a little assemblage that she hoped would bring her at least enough to buy a ticket back to her hometown. For surely, once there, there would be some of her father’s old friends who would lend her enough to get her through until her next allowance was due. She could probably go to her father’s friend, Mr. Sargent, and ask him to advance her a little. Perhaps she could tell him that someone had stolen her money in the absence of her cousin. Well, at least she would go step by step, as the day’s need became evident.

  Telling the maids that she was going downtown to attend some errands, she boarded a bus with her array of bundles and went first to the stores where she hoped to return her dresses. There was great relief in her eyes when in response to her request she was merely told to go to a certain desk and her money would be refunded. Then, with a roll of nice crisp bills in her purse, and a burden that was much lightened, she went on her way to sell her old gold.

  When she finally got back to the house, she had enough money to buy a ticket, enough over for incidentals, and a night’s lodging at least when she got there. So she felt that it was right for her to go. There would surely be some friends when she got to the city that was still home to her who would help her out until she could find Mr. Sargent.

  She paid little heed to eating that day. She had too much to do. She went to the trunk room and got out her trunk and suitcases. Then, rapidly, she began to pack. She wanted to waste no time in getting started. As she folded her garments and stowed them in the trunk and suitcases, her mind was going over and over what she should do. There were some books and pictures, and things that were dear to her heart. If she left them there, Clytie would make short work of them, and there was little likelihood that she would ever see them again unless she took them with her. So she went down to the cellar and found a box which she smuggled up to her room while the maids were out on their own errands. She packed her things carefully, and even nailed up the box securely. She didn’t want to waste money paying a man to do what she could do herself.

  But while she was packing her books, she came across a few that she did not care to keep and realized that she might get a little more money from them. Also, there was a whole lovely set of her favorite poets, done in fine binding. She had bought them only a short time ago. Could she get the man to take them back and give her the money? She hated to give them up, but she could surely get them again somewhere, sometime, when money was not so scarce; so she ventured to telephone and found that the book dealer would take them back if they were still in good condition.

  So she took her books down to the dealer and got a little more money for her journey, which made her feel much easier in her mind and quite satisfied that God was helping her.

  That evening, tired as she was, she wrote a note to her cousin.

  Dear Miriam:

  I hope you will not disap
prove when you get back home and find me gone. I have been thinking about this move for a long time, and I really feel that it is right and good that I should go. I hope you will agree with me.

  It does not seem fair to Clytie that she should have to share her home and her parents with me. I feel sure she will be a great deal happier with me gone, and it is right that she should have her place in her home.

  Besides, Miriam, I am not a little girl any longer. I am old enough to look out for myself and not to be lonely if I am on my own. It will really be good for me and help me to be more independent. So I think you and Cousin Duke, who have been so exceedingly kind to me in my sorrow and loneliness, have a right to be relieved that you no longer have me as a burden, since in many ways I cannot be quite congenial.

  You need have no worry about me. I have many friends in the old place where my father and I lived so long together, and as soon as I get definitely located, I will write and give you my address.

  So I am sending you my heartfelt gratitude for what you have done for me and many wishes that you have a happy winter.

  Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a glad New Year,

  Lovingly,

  Astra

  It was very sketchy sleeping that Astra did that night, because there were still so many details of her hasty journey not yet thought out. But she was awake early the next morning and at the telephone, calling for some men to take her box and trunks to the station and calling the station to find out train schedules. When she went down to breakfast, she had everything well in hand, and her heart was filled with a great relief.

  After breakfast she told the maids.

  “I am going back to my old home, Hannah,” she said. “I’ve been planning to do that for some time, and now I think it will be pleasant to be with my old friends at Christmastime.”

  Hannah eyed her in amazement.

  “Does Mrs. Lester know?” she asked coldly. “She didn’t say anything to me about it.”