Bright Arrows

by Grace Livingston Hill

  When she lay down to rest that night, somehow a great burden rolled away from her, and she began to wonder if she had been carrying her disappointment in her old friend about, as a burden on her heart. At least it was now gone. She had laid him definitely in God's hands.

  As she dropped away to sleep, some pleasant words of Lorrimer's came back to mind, and the look in his eyes as he spoke them gave her a happy thought to drive other worries away. Life was changing for her. It was inevitable that it should change when her dear father was taken away, but she had not been prepared to have the very foundations of her childhood swept away from under her. New friends, new experiences! Frightening occurrences. Mr. Worden was still at hand, and his pleasant new lawyer. That was nice. Janet was still there, bless her, and Tabor was getting well, thank the Lord for that! And she had a new Lord. She could go on from there and live out her life as God would plan. She need not be afraid, even of Ellery Fane and his silly scheming mother.

  And so she slept.

  Chapter 12

  And the next day there arrived in Glencarroll three sisters from California, cousins of Eden's mother. Three women of the world who were neither old nor young, just enough older than Eden to assume to advise her, just enough younger than her mother had been to pass for semi-companions for a girl alone in the world, just well enough off financially to realize what it would mean for them to have a young girl, financially independent and generously inclined, under their care and patronage.

  They went at once to Glencarroll Hotel and called up on the telephone to make their presence known, probably hoping to be at once welcomed to the hospitable Thurston home.

  Eden had never known them intimately. There had been occasional letters back and forth during her father's lifetime, and once Eden had spent three days at their home in California, but she did not feel that they would be an asset to her life at this time; and so when they called up and expressed their sympathy in her recent sorrow, she thanked them and explained that Tabor, their old servant, had been very ill, and it just wasn't convenient at present for her to ask anyone to visit them, but she would run over and see them within a couple of hours and find out their plans.

  When she had hung up, she sat down and thought over what the coming of these unwanted relatives was going to mean to her. It was obvious that she should not invite them to visit her at present, not with Tabor sick and so much for the servants to do. Besides, she was in no mood for taking them around to see the sights, as she knew they would wish to do. Here was a situation that would have to be trusted in the hands of the Lord.

  So she dressed very soberly and went to the hotel.

  The cousins were most effusive, and they said they had come to get her and take her home with them. They had talked it all over and decided that would be best for her, to get away from all sorrowful surroundings, where she would be more or less bound to live a quiet life for some time, here among her father's friends. So they had dropped everything and come after her, before she had had time to make any other plans.

  They were very voluble, and each took up the tale when the other left off, until they had placed before her all their plans for showing her a pleasant winter and making a permanent home for her in their company.

  Eden hoped that her telltale face did not make too plain how she would not like to accept their invitation, and how she would hate to live with them. But she kept a smile and waited until they had laid before her their whole plan, and then she pleasantly undertook to answer.

  "It is very sweet of you to try to make nice plans for me," she said with one of her loveliest smiles, "and I do appreciate your kindness. I remember your pretty home in that sunny land, and I know you would do your best to make me happy. I thank you from my heart for being so kind. But it would be quite impossible for me to leave here at present. There are business matters that I must settle, and there are plans that I have made that must be carried out. Also I have a lot of obligations here, things that Father left in my hands. I could not possibly go away anywhere now."

  "But, my dear, you have been through so much. Your father's sickness and death must have been very hard on you, and I should think friends and obligations could wait while you have a time of resting and getting back your normal vivacity. You have a right to get away and get new poise after a shock like death."

  Eden shook her head and smiled.

  "My father's death was not a shock," she said sweetly. "He talked it all over with me months ago and prepared me for all the changes that would have to come. Of course, it was a great sorrow to have to lose him, but I understood, and he and I together planned out what I should do and how my time was to be occupied. Besides that, I have many friends here whom I enjoy and who mean much to me. I love my home, and our old servants are here. It is the normal place for me to stay. I am afraid I would be very homesick away from here, especially just now. Though I certainly do thank you for your very kind thought of me. I am only sorry that I am not in a position just now to ask you to come right home for a few days while you are in this vicinity. But, you see, we had a most unpleasant happening. A burglar broke into the house and tried to steal some of Father's valuable papers, just the day of his funeral, and our good old butler went out to try and catch him and got stabbed in the back. He has been very critically ill in the house ever since it happened, and that has somewhat disorganized our household, so that it would not be very convenient for us to try and have guests at present. That is the reason I came over at once, to explain, and to suggest that if you were to be in the vicinity later, say in a couple of months, before returning to the West, you might arrange to spend a few days with me then. I am quite sure Tabor will be well by that time. At least, the doctor says he is reasonably sure. Could you arrange your plans for that? You were so kind to invite me when I was in California that I would certainly like to return the favor."

  "Oh, my dear! That's sweet of you to plan so far ahead," said Elspeth, the oldest of the three sisters. "But, my dear, I can't see any sense in delaying our visit that way. Surely you don't have to keep a sick servant in the house at the expense of your visiting guests. Couldn't you send him to the hospital? He could certainly be better cared for there than in your home, and then we could come right over and be with you for a while until we could persuade you to return with us."

  "Yes," said Clarine, the next sister, "that would be the best arrangement by far. We don't intend to give up taking you back with us, Eden. We have quite made up our minds, haven't we, girls? And you know the Haldanes do not easily change their minds when once they are made up. So, Eden, won't you go to the telephone and call an ambulance and have that old butler taken to the hospital at once? Then we can come over and have a really good visit. I can understand how hard it would be to have a sick servant with company, but surely you can get another butler, and if necessary we girls can help until you secure one. Nerissa is awfully good at making dainty lunches and even serving them on occasion. Aren't you, Nerissa?"

  Thus appealed to, Nerissa, the third and youngest sister, smiled and assured Eden she would be glad to do anything to help out.

  "So, Eden, you see, the best you can do is to get your servant out of the way, and we can go over at once. With this in view we didn't unpack yet. There is a telephone right over to the right of the desk. Go and get it off your mind, dear, while we wait."

  Eden sat up very straight and looked at her would-be guests with surprise.

  "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "You don't understand. Our servant is much too sick to be moved yet, and we couldn't think of sending him away. He has been a part of our family for years. And it would not be at all convenient for me to have guests at present. I am sure you will understand. If you can plan to come later, I shall be glad to arrange it if it is possible. And now, have you pleasant rooms at the hotel? I know they are crowded everywhere, but I suppose you must have secured reservations."

  "Well, no, we didn't," said Elspeth. "We were counting on you, naturally, and we really were hoping
you would perhaps just toss a few things into your suitcase and start right back with us."

  "Well, that is out of the question, and it is equally impossible for me to have guests at present. It will probably be a couple of months before my plans would allow me to send for you, but if you are to be here later, there would be some very delightful concerts on then. I know you are fond of music. And there are lectures always."

  "Oh, lectures!" laughed Nerissa. "Imagine it! Is that your idea of a good time, Eden? It isn't mine. I want to see some nightlife. Of course, New York is the place for that. Why not come up with us for a little while and go the rounds?"

  "Thank you, no," said Eden gravely. "I never cared for that sort of thing, you know, and certainly not now."

  "Oh, you poor little thing. You mustn't be tied to a somber style of life. You are getting older, and you'll need to go out and have good times. We'll see to that when we get you under our thumbs," said Clarine, shaking a warning finger at her and tossing her head with a motion that set the floral earrings in her ears jingling.

  Eden was beginning to lose her temper now in a hopeless kind of daze, and she took a deep breath and sailed in, making her statements very clearly:

  "I am sorry to disappoint you, but you might as well understand that all this is quite impossible. I am staying right here in my home and carrying out the plans my father and I made for my life. I do not wish to go away anywhere at present. I do appreciate your trying to help me, but I do not want help now. So, since I am rather busy at present and find it hard to get away from the house long at a time, or often, suppose you be my guests here at the hotel for lunch, and then you can go on and make your further plans without reference to me. That is the way it will have to be, for the present at least."

  So finally the three sisters, much surprised that the gentle Eden had so asserted herself and could be so firm, succumbed and let Eden take them into the hotel dining room for lunch; and then in rather dignified high indignation, they took themselves off to New York. Eden, tired out from the experience of the morning, went back home wondering: What in the world had happened that all the unpleasant people she knew had to turn up and torment her, right here at home when she was going through so much else? Well, there was probably some good reason why it all had to be. Perhaps her friend the lawyer would have some theory to explain it.

  When Eden went into the house, she found Mr. Worden there pacing back and forth in the hall, looking at his watch.

  "Oh, my dear, I'm so glad you have come. I very much want to have you sign a paper that will be needed in this matter of the robbery. I want to keep you out of the trial if possible, and I think perhaps this may help, but it should reach the judge at once. Suppose you just sit down and read it over carefully and see if I have made the statement just as it happened."

  When they had finished with the paper, Mr. Worden folded it carefully and put it in his briefcase.

  "Thank you, my dear. I'll get this into the right hands at once. And now, I wonder how you would like a ride out into the country this afternoon? My lawyer and I have to go out to draw up and witness a will for an old man who is not likely to live long and wants to get his affairs in shape. My wife wants to go, too, if she can get out of an engagement she made for a committee meeting. So I thought if you would go along that would be someone for Lorrimer to talk to. I will let him do the driving, and my wife and I will be real folks for a change and sit in the backseat and luxuriate. Would you enjoy that, or am I barging in on some other more attractive plan of yours for spending the afternoon?"

  "Oh, that will be wonderful!" said Eden, the light in her eyes and the flush on her cheeks showing how much the suggestion pleased her. "You don't know how I long to get away from the telephone for a little while. Someone is always coming in on me and wanting to stay with me, or something like that. I've just got away from three cousins from California who are trying to insist on my going back with them to live."

  Mr. Worden laughed.

  "Yes," he said. "I understood from Janet that you were in the hands of those three 'harpies' as your father used to call them. I was afraid you wouldn't get away from them in time for me to get this paper off in the mail. Well, I'm glad you got back, and I must be hurrying along. We'll be stopping for you at half past two. Will that be all right? And meantime, if any more 'unwanteds' turn up, just deny yourself to them firmly and stay hidden till Janet calls you. Good-bye."

  Eden danced up the stairs with almost real happiness in her eyes--and found Janet waiting for her, anxiety on her brow.

  "An' did ye see them coosins?" she asked. "Will they be coomin' here the nicht? Whut room would ye lak me tae prepare?"

  "They are not coming," said Eden. "I told them it wouldn't be convenient now while Tabor is sick. I said they might come back in a couple of months if they happened to be in this region then. I took them to lunch at the hotel and saw them off to New York on the noon train. Do you think that was awful of me? Besides, what they wanted to do was to carry me off to California, root, stem, and branch, and have me stay with them permanently and let them steer me through life. Imagine that, Janet! Wouldn't that have been terrible?"

  "It would indeed, my lambkin. Boot I'm thinkin' they had a wee bit of an eye toward your siller, my sweet. They kenned ye was generous, I'm thinkin', and they intended to get out of ye onythin' they wanted. Oh, ef I were tae see thim coomin' in the door I'd tell them nae, they couldna enter. Ye did weel tae hie tim awa' tae Noo York. They dinna belang in this hoose, thet's certain."

  "No, they do not," said Eden, "but it seemed ungracious of me after they had invited me to their home four years ago. Of course, Father wouldn't let me stay but two days. I know he never liked them. And now I'm so glad they are not here, for I would have had to stay and entertain them. And they don't like anything I like. They want to be going, going, going all the time and seeing notable people. I'm sure they would have tried to put me up to inviting several parties if they had stayed. Oh, why are such people tormenting me now when Daddy is gone?"

  "It's because they are canny an' want tae share yer fortune," said wise Janet, hurrying about to put away Eden's coat and hat.

  "But, Janet," protested Eden, "there you go spoiling me again. How will I ever get tidy habits if you go around waiting on me and picking up after me?"

  "Oh, ye cheeld! Ye air thet sweet an' gude naethin' can spoil ye."

  "There you go, flattering me, Janet. I'm sure Daddy never allowed you to flatter me."

  "Not whin ye were a wee bairnie, boot ye air growed, the noo, an' what would a poor ole nurse dae, ef she canna wait on her nurslin'? Gang awa' ter yer bed, my wee girlie, an' take yersel' a bit of a rest afore the care cames fer ye. Ye'll be nane the worse fer it."

  "Lie down, Janet? Why, I'm not tired, and I'm going to have a lovely restful afternoon, riding in the country. It seems wonderful after escaping what I did. Now, find a clean blouse, Janet dear. I promised to be ready by half past two, and it's ten minutes after, now."

  So Eden was soon dressed and down at the door when the Worden car drew up.

  Lorrimer was driving and looked happy to put her in the seat beside himself. Janet stood behind the lace curtain and watched them drive away, well pleased to see her nursling beside a young man she need not disapprove. It had been hard for her when Caspar Carvel came back from war. She never had approved of him anyway. And she knew Eden's father did not like him, though he was always most kind to him.

  So into the beautiful blue of the autumn afternoon they went, the soft green feathers of her hat making a frame about Eden's lovely face, and the pleasure in her eyes softening the lines of recent sorrow that had been so marked when Lorrimer first saw her.

  She is very lovely, he said to himself, and you must go carefully, lad. She is wealthy, you know, and you are a young man only beginning your fortune. You mustn't allow yourself to get too interested in her. But I certainly am glad she is along with us today.

  That was what he thought as he settled himself
for the long ride and privilege of enjoying it with this unusually lovely girl.

  In the meantime, in a far hideout Ellery Fane, in borrowed garments, sulked in an unsavory den and conversed sullenly with former pals, trying to plan how to contact his former prison abode and find out if his mother had been caught and was still there.

  A little later it was discovered that another member of their gang was expected in a couple of days, en route to Mexico, and it would be easy to send out a feeler through him. So Ellery spent time working out in code an innocent telegram to his mother that purported to be from her grandchild, one named Tilly Brandeis, age nine years, begging her to come home in time for her birthday party and to bring her a string of red beads. This, with a silly sentence about her curling red hair, innocently conveyed the fact that Ellery still retained one ruby of the booty he had hidden under a patch of adhesive tape over a self-inflicted wound, in his hair, that showed enough blood to imitate the real thing. But, of course, the message was one that nobody but Lavira Fane could possibly translate. It seemed to be from an innocent little girl who wanted a beloved relative home for her birthday party. And so it was finally shown to Lavira, who wept over it profusely. But she understood that her son was informing her that they were not entirely without funds, and it gave her a clue where to find him if she could manage to get out. The matron watched her while she read it and saw a look of such satisfaction settle over the sharp face that she took the telegram away with her and gave it to the chief of police, who somehow read something into it, or tried to, and began the frantic search again for the missing thief, Ellery.