And it was not long before Erda Brannon was established as Victor’s personal secretary. Thus she was in a position not only to see everything that was done at the plant, but also to read all the private, confidential correspondence, and to understand just how and what and when everything happened that was of special interest to the enemy. But of all this, Victor was unaware. He was much intrigued with Erda for the present, and whenever he turned his eyes toward the Kingsley house or felt a stab of regret for the way he was neglecting his off-and-on “best girl,” he drew an ugly look down across his handsome face and told himself it was good for her. She would learn she couldn’t treat him like the dirt under her feet and expect him to continue to dance attendance on her. He would keep this up till she learned her lesson thoroughly, and then he would go and condescend to her again. She would come around soon enough, he assured himself, when she saw that he meant business. This spurt of war work and nursery and hard study couldn’t deceive him. So he continued to laze around his luxurious office, idly reading a mystery story or flirting with Erda, while she plied her trade of finding out all she could about the secrets of the war plant. He made no attempt whatever to curb her eager interest in the machinery and in the mysterious parts the plant was making for a supposedly secret weapon that was to revolutionize the war and win the victory for the Allies. Victor, for the time being, had little thought for anything of this sort. It didn’t appeal to him to take any pains to guard the secrets that his father considered sacred. They seemed to him a lot of nonsense, and his father was making a great fuss about nothing to create an impression on the enemy. There was nothing to it at all, Victor said.
It never occurred to him to question the necessity that was keeping him there in a fine office while other men his age were fighting and dying for a real cause. He had heard his mother’s sales talk so much that he actually began to believe that his own part in the war was very necessary.
Sometimes behind her hand, behind his back, Erda smiled a contemptuous smile, marveling at how blind he was.
Then one day Victor caught a glimpse of Lisle Kingsley as she came down the steps of her father’s house. He watched her graceful tripping feet, the swing of her lithe body, the tilt of her lovely head, and the old attraction returned to him in full force. Lisle seemed to be as happy as when she was a child. His punishing had not reduced her to humility and pining. She carried a briefcase and had the mark of being on her way to classes. Silly that she could interest herself in learning, mere learning, when she might even now be his wife and have a home of her own, and an enviable position in society. She was too well satisfied with things as they were. It was high time he went back to her.
So that evening he went to call with the same old nonchalance as always. He gave no explanation or apology for his absence of weeks, just walked in and began to carry on from his last contact. That was the way to treat such breaks. Just ignore them.
However, it was not Lisle but her mother who was sitting in the living room knitting when he walked in. He paused an instant and looked quickly around the room.
“Where’s Lisle?” he said, as if he had a right to demand her presence.
“Oh, good evening, Victor,” she said politely. “Lisle is out this evening. Won’t you sit down?”
“Where has she gone?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“Why, I really don’t remember. She has so many engagements these days that I don’t always keep track of them. Did she expect you this evening?”
He eyed her curiously.
“Do I have to telephone every time I want to see her?”
“Well, perhaps, if you really want to see her. You certainly didn’t expect her to sit at home awaiting your pleasure to arrive?”
“Getting smart, aren’t you Em—ly?”
Mrs. Kingsley made no reply to that, just kept on knitting, counting stitches. After another one or two insolent remarks, Victor said, “When will she be home?”
“Well, I’m not quite sure,” said Lisle’s mother. “Would you care to sit down and wait? There are some magazines over on the table if you’d like to read.”
So Victor settled down to read, turning the pages idly, snapping them half angrily as time went on and Lisle did not appear and Mrs. Kingsley continued to knit silently.
And when at last they heard Lisle’s key in the lock, heard her enter and come lightly across the hall and toward the door, humming a soft tune, they both looked up. She dawned on the living room like a bright lovely star, her cheeks glowing.
“Oh, Mother, it was nice of you to sit up for me! It always looks so lonesome in this room when you’re not in it.”
“I always like to sit up until I know you are back. Where have you been, dear? I forgot to ask you.”
“Why, we had to sing for some soldier boys down at the Red Cross rooms. It was fun, Mother, and the boys enjoyed it so much.”
“That’s nice. But you see, you have a caller. He’s been waiting some time!”
Then Victor unfolded his languid self from the big chair where he had slumped and turned a frowning face toward the ungovernable maiden, as if she were somehow to blame. She had been having a nice time, had she? Well, it was high time he came back and took possession.
Chapter 10
Lisle turned a pleasantly bright look toward her old playmate and lifted her eyebrows a trifle.
“Oh, I’m sorry you had to wait,” she said, quite formally. “Did you want to see me for something important, Victor? If you had told me you were coming, I would have tried to be home earlier.”
Victor eyed her with a scowl.
“Oh, yes? You certainly would not! You’ve avoided me on every occasion for weeks! And you walked out on me the night of my great party!”
He fixed her with a gaze as severe as if he had accused her of the unpardonable sin.
A series of expressions like fleeting clouds in the sunshine passed over the girl’s expressive face. One could almost read the history of that evening party from her eyes. And then, like a veil suddenly dropped over the scene, a gentle haughtiness enveloped her, and she looked steadily, almost sternly, into his bold, spoiled eyes until they began to take on a shamed look.
“Well—didn’t you?” he burst forth again, his anger flaring up resentfully. “Didn’t you, I say?”
Mrs. Kingsley cast a quick look at her daughter’s cool face and wondered where she got her poise. This was all a new story to the mother. Lisle had not told much about that party, and her mother had thought it was best to let her alone and not question her as to why she came home so early. So now she marveled at her quiet manner.
“Yes, I went home, if that is what you mean.”
“Well, why? Why did you go? Just to make me furious? Just because you wanted to spoil the greatest event of my life for me? Was that it? Was that why you disappeared when everything was just at its height?”
“No,” said Lisle quietly, as if it were a matter of very little moment. “I went home because everybody was drunk, and I was ashamed of the way you acted.”
Victor gazed at the girl in utmost astonishment, that she would actually dare to speak to him that way. Then his handsome lips slowly curled into a sneer of contempt, and he drawled out hatefully, “Says you! You poor little white-livered Victorian! You product of an antique, forgotten age that was all hedged in fanaticism and ignorance! What kind of a social leader do you think you could be with a background like that? Answer me! How do you think you could hold your own in the world today? That’s what I meant when I found fault with your education. If you could have been free from your childhood’s traditions and gone into a real college away from home till you could get the college outlook today, you would have got over all that funny business. Thinking you are too good to get drunk now and then as others do, and play around with other people and have a really good time. And it isn’t too late, Lisle, if you’re ready to put ideas like that out of your head and try to be like other people. I’ll be with you heart and soul. We�
��ll start to go places and see things and get that backwoods background out of the picture entirely.”
A quick movement on the part of Mrs. Kingsley made Victor suddenly glance her way and catch the look of utter indignation on her nice kindly face. Quickly he added apologetically, “Of course, your parents did the best they could in bringing you up. They were sort of out of things themselves and didn’t know any better. But it’s time now for you to come out from under their thumbs and act for yourself. You’ve got to understand that everybody nowadays who is worth anything drinks, and expects you to drink. It’s time for your silly old-fashioned ideas to change—”
But suddenly Mrs. Kingsley rose.
“And it’s time for you to leave our house, Victor!” She said it in the same stern, firm voice that she had once used when she sent the boy home for some misdeed years ago when he was only a child. And somehow the fire in her fine eyes and the lift of her proud head filled him with the same humiliation he had felt then. There was something about her refined dignity and authoritative attitude that made him feel at the disadvantage in spite of all his arrogant ideas. He straightened up and tried to gain the upper hand in the argument again.
“I’m sorry I had to offend you again, Mother Kingsley, but you know all I have said is true, and the sooner you recognize it, the better for all concerned.”
Mrs. Kingsley did not sit down. She kept her dignity and poise and looked the insolent lad in the eye.
“That will be about all from you, Victor,” she said. “Now, will you leave this house? I’m sure no one will welcome you as long as you hold such views. Please go!” And she herded the reluctant boy toward the door.
“Now, Mrs. Kingsley. Don’t go and get sore and spoil our friendship of the years!” pleaded Victor, donning his engaging smile and looking down upon her as he had done many times during the years. “You know you like me better than any other friend of Lisle’s. Don’t spoil our friendship.”
“It is you who are spoiling the friendship, Victor. You know our standards of right and wrong. You know that you have been most insulting and that you have gone contrary to all the standards that Lisle has come to think of you as believing.”
“But the world has changed, Emily!” wheedled the boy. “I’ve done my best to make you see that, and you can’t expect to stand still and go your way. Besides, haven’t you any care for your daughter? You know Lisle loves me. You know she wouldn’t be happy without me. And I certainly couldn’t think of marrying her if she continues to hold such nonsensical ideas. You wouldn’t stand in the way of Lisle’s best interests, would you?”
Then Lisle rose haughtily, and indignantly disclaimed what he had said.
“I certainly do not love you, Victor, and would never consent to marry you! There could be no happiness for me in having my life linked to yours, and I wish you would put that idea entirely out of your head. Never, never will I marry you!”
“Now look here, Lisle, don’t be silly! You don’t know what you are talking about. The truth is, I came in this evening to tell you that my father has made me promises tonight that practically put me in a class of wealthy men. I shall have an enormous income, both from the business and also from my inheritance from my grandfather, into which I shall soon come in full right. I’m going to be a rich man, Lisle, and you can’t afford to quarrel with me this way. I thought you would enjoy hearing of my good fortune. You’ve always taken interest in everything that had to do with my success, and I supposed you would rejoice with me at the way things are coming out. And more especially because it will mean a wonderful future for you.”
Lisle paused and looked at him coldly.
“Why, yes, of course, I’m glad for you to have success,” she said frostily, “if that is the kind of success you want, but it really has nothing to do with me, Victor. Not all the money in the world would tempt me to join my life with yours. You and I have definitely nothing in common anymore. You and I are old friends of childhood, yes, but childhood is past, and we have come to the end of our association. If I hadn’t been thoroughly convinced of that before, I should have been the night of that awful party! So, please excuse me from any more of your attention. I’ll bid you good night and good-bye.” She swept him a cool little bow and went out of the room.
Victor stood stunned by her words, her manner, and watched her until she mounted the stairs lightly, not angrily. Then he turned toward her mother, who was now sitting down knitting again, ignoring his presence.
He waited until he heard Lisle’s door upstairs open and close quietly, finally, and then he turned furiously toward her mother. “There! I hope you see what you have done!” he said bitterly.
“Oh, no!” said Mrs. Kingsley. “I think you are seeing what you have done. Good night, Victor. I’m very sorry for you, because if you go on this way, you certainly are not going to be happy or successful. The world can’t offer you anything to make up for the good principles you seemed to have when you were a child.”
“Yes? That’s your idea, I suppose. Well, I guess I’m well rid of you and your old-time notions!” And in sullen anger Victor went out from the house that had been almost a second home to him since childhood. And the woman who had made many happy times for him and her own child sighed. For Victor certainly was changed. There was no denying that.
But upstairs in her own room, Lisle, looking into the future, was surprised at herself, that she was not regretting the break that had come so definitely tonight and seemed quite permanently final. It was like a long, heavy burden rolling off to know that so far as she was concerned she didn’t care whether she ever saw Victor Vandingham again. She wasn’t even so annoyed at him that she had any desire to run away to another place where she would not have to meet him again. She was utterly indifferent.
A few minutes later Mrs. Kingsley came slowly up the stairs to find her daughter, half fearful lest there might have been a reaction and she would find her dear girl in tears.
But Lisle was sitting happily at her desk with her university books beside her and her interest deep in her lessons for tomorrow. As her mother reached the top of the stairs and came fearfully toward Lisle’s door, her heart grew suddenly hopeful as she heard a sweet little happy tune. She paused and listened to the softly clear words that came from the open door.
Oh, what wonderful, wonderful rest!
Trusting completely in Jesus I’m blest;
Sweetly He comforts and shields from alarms,
Holding me safely in His mighty arms.
What was she singing? It wasn’t any song that her mother knew, nothing she had heard at church, though it sounded some like a hymn tune. It wasn’t a love song either, not even a modern love song, though that part about being held in someone’s arms sounded almost like it. But there! Now she was singing it again, slowly remembering the words one by one. No, it wasn’t a love song, only a hymn. Where had Lisle heard it? On the radio? But Lisle never had much time nowadays to listen to the radio. She was so busy with her studies and her war work.
The tune sank into a low hum, and Lisle was deep into her Latin study. An instant later her mother stepped into her door and smiled at her.
“What a sweet song, dear. Where did you get it?” she asked with a pleasant note in her voice.
“Oh, I heard it at the meeting where I stopped for the blackout,” said Lisle happily. “Isn’t it pretty? Mother, I think you’d like to go to that meeting sometime. The whole thing was just like that little song, so peaceful and sure and restful. Will you go with me sometime?”
“Why, yes, dear, perhaps. If we can find a free night and the car can be used. I’m not much on knocking around in buses, you know. We’ll see, perhaps. But dearie, I’m so glad to hear your voice singing instead of weeping. I was afraid I’d find you in tears after the experience we’ve just had. I’m so glad you’re taking it cheerfully.”
“Oh, that?” said Lisle, giving a happy little laugh. “I settled that in my heart some time ago, and I’m just glad to have
it finally off my mind. That’s that, and that’s all there is about it. Let’s not fret about it any longer. I know you feel badly on account of Mrs. Vandingham being your friend, but there’ll be a way to work that out somehow, I am sure, and as for Victor, he’s gone sour and that’s all there is to it. No, I’ll never be in tears over him, so don’t you fret about that. You see, Mother, I lost all respect for Victor when I found he was going to stay at home from war and hide behind a sham job in his father’s office, beginning with that fool party! A party like that, when his country is at war! It seems almost blasphemous! When others his age are dying to save our country for freedom and righteousness, he has a party and gets drunk! Aren’t you glad I’m not going to marry Victor, Mother?”
There was something almost pleading in the tone with which the girl ended her sentence, and her mother responded quickly, eagerly. “Yes, dear, I’m heartily glad! For weeks I’ve been worried about this, because I was afraid it was going to mean so much to you. You had seemed so much attached to Victor when he was a boy, but since I’ve seen more of him, and especially after tonight, I feel as if you have been saved from a terrible fate. Set free for a beautiful life somewhere, somehow, I hope!”
“Yes, Mother!” said Lisle, with her eyes shining. “I don’t believe I could ever have been happy spending my life with Victor. And now, Mother, do you mind if we don’t talk any more about him? I’m just sick of the thought of him. I’m sorry he has turned out this way, and I’m afraid he is going to have to pay a terrible price for his changed standards, but he’s going his way, and I’ll go mine, and I’m quite satisfied to have it that way. So that’s that!”
Sound of the Trumpet Page 13