Slowly, deliberately, he lifted the deadweight of the can and swung it back on the hook; more slowly he retraced his steps down to the grass, picked up the cover, and replaced it on its can. He paused. He couldn’t bear to have that woman go without a sign of how people thought of her—and yet! Well? There was that coal-of-fire business they had in Sunday school awhile back! Why not try that? That was legitimate. But where find a coal? He knit his brows and then was off again across the back fence, across the fields, the railroad track, and down to the flower beds when he ducked behind the station shed and gathered wildly armfuls of late asters, blue and white and purple and pink, from the beautiful station flower beds.
He tore up the last by the roots, removing the length of stems as he fled back again. He searched in his pocket for string and tied them to the front doorknob, escaping just in time, Stubby and all, as Harriet Granniss, unattached, rounded the corner and came to her lonely door. The Boggs girl had gone off with their lawyer on a joyride.
Harriet paused as she came up the steps, looked perplexed a moment, put out her hand to throw the flowers angrily away, then drew them carefully from their binding and looked at them, strangely touched. Where had they come from? Why had they come? They were the only sweet and pleasant thing that had come into her life in many a long day. She bur ied her grim old face in their sweet, cool fragrance and brought them into the house, and while she placed them carefully in water, the tears were raining down her cheeks. Who knows but the ice in her heart, too, was breaking up, for the flowers had touched what no punishment or blows had ever reached. Dick’s coal had found its place of burning.
Jud and Ariel had gone straight to their little house. Without putting it into words, they had gone of one accord; and standing there together before their own hearth, they looked into each other’s eyes with awe.
It was a long time before they spoke, and then Jud, with his arms close around Ariel, said in low, earnest tones, “Ariel, you’ve won. It’s true. He did care for us! I believed it, and now I know it. This morning I read a strange new verse. It said, ‘He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways,’ and I almost felt like sneering. Then I made up my mind I wouldn’t. I would trust even if this were the end! And now He’s proved it true!”
And Ariel lifted her eyes full of joy and said, “It would have been true anyway, no matter how it had come out! But oh, I’m so glad it has come out this way!”
Outside they heard the sound of a car, and Emily and her husband came driving up, with Dick on flying feet and Stubby just behind.
“Why can’t we be married right here, now, dear?” said Jud. “Dick’ll go and get the minister.” He raised his voice. “Won’t you, Dick?”
“Sure thing,” sang out Dick Smalley’s weary young voice alertly. “What is’t you want?”
Ariel smiled through the mist of joy in her eyes and said tenderly, “Jud, I think he’s been one of God’s angels, don’t you?”
And Jud answered fervently as Dick entered breathlessly: “He certainly has.”
RACE LIVINGSTON HILL (1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote more than a hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.
Love Endures
Grace Livingston Hill Classics
Available in 2012
The Beloved Stranger
The Prodigal Girl
A New Name
Re-Creations
Tomorrow About This Time
Crimson Roses
Blue Ruin
Coming Through the Rye
The Christmas Bride
Ariel Custer
Not Under the Law
Job’s Niece
Ariel Custer Page 20