Happiness Hill

by Grace Livingston Hill

  “But what nonsense!” Jane laughed. “I’ve no money to have my portrait painted, even if he did take a liking to my profile or the color of my eyes. Why can’t you be sensible?”

  “I’ll see that it doesn’t cost you anything, Jane,” said Lauderdale graciously. “The portrait is to be mine, you know. I want it to hang in my apartment. I have a very fine collection—”

  “Collection of girls?” laughed Jane, with a quick little hard ring to her voice and a sudden glint of suspicion in her eyes.

  “Of paintings,” finished Lauderdale, not heeding her. “This will be the best of all. If I could get you just as you are now with that sea for a background. That’s a wonderful sea. And the gray mistiness about. You should wear shell pink, or perhaps the right shade of green, a sea green, with the sea blue background, and just that much of a smile on your lips. That dimple in the corner of your mouth is adorable. Yes, a sea green drapery would bring out the ruddy glint in your hair.”

  “By all means make it green,” said Jane sarcastically, “to match my green eyes.”

  “You little devil!” said Lauderdale, suddenly drawing himself close to her and flinging his arm about her. “You know I love you. Kiss me, Jane. Quick! Put your lips against mine! You know you love me!”

  Jane arose precipitately, leaving the kiss in midair.

  “Hey, there!” shouted a voice suddenly.

  Lauderdale looked up angrily and saw Tom coming in long strides around the curve of the shore.

  “Say!” he yelled breathlessly. “Yer pilot wantsa know what yer gonta do. He says he’s gotta be in N’York in an hour! He says ’f ’ya wantta go back with him ya gotta come right away!”

  Chapter 11

  Wait, Tom,” called Jane sweetly, command in her eyes. “Wait and walk back with us. I want Mr. Lauderdale to know my family.”

  “Wait, nothing!” objected Tom, but vaguely he sensed a signal of distress in his sister’s insistence. “John’s waiting for me!” He paused uncertainly, frowning.

  “Oh, it won’t hurt him to wait just a few minutes more,” said Jane pleasantly. “Tom, you know I wrote home about those wonderful tennis and golf matches. Mr. Lauderdale was one of the champions—!”

  “Yeah?” said Tom indifferently, stumping along by his sister’s side, wondering what line she wanted him to take. If it was to thrash this too-handsome youth or duck him in the ocean in all his expensive clothes, he might do it with a hearty goodwill. But do the social act and make him feel he was being carried around on a chip? Never! he said in his prejudiced soul.

  “I think perhaps Mr. Lauderdale will stay to tea with us if we ask him nicely,” went on Jane desperately, trying to find a subject that would not shipwreck the situation.

  “Yeah?” said Tom, looking over the nominee for clam chowder contemptuously and fervently hoping some power would prevent such a catastrophe. What could Jinny be thinking of to suggest spoiling their perfectly good evening? Was she falling for this rich guy? If she was, something would have to be done about it right away, and he would have to be the one to do it.

  “Gee, I wonder if that bird is going already?” he exclaimed innocently. “Don’t you hear the machine? The wind is blowing the other way, you know, but he promised me he’d wait till I gave him a signal.”

  This casual remark had the effect, as he had hoped it would, of quickening the steps of the unwelcome guest.

  “Let him go,” said Tom cheerfully, relaxing into a long lope. “Isn’t there another cot in the closet, Jane? Anyhow you can bunk on the floor in the living room with John and me,” he added, turning to Lauderdale affably. “Got plenty of blankets and cushions. It’s a great life!”

  Lauderdale answered nothing but looked at his watch wildly and broke into a run, disappearing around the point suddenly and waving frantic signals toward the pilot, who stood impatiently watching their approach.

  They came up to him as he talked angrily to the pilot, and Lauderdale looked at Jane sulkily.

  “You won’t change your mind and go, Jane?” he asked brusquely, as if a king were granting one more favor to a subject.

  “It’s quite impossible,” said Jane, trying to look politely sorry.

  “Oh, but I thought you were going to stop overnight?” dared Tom suavely. “It’s going to be all kinds of a night, a new moon and there’s a dandy lighthouse here. You oughtta see it! Sometimes we sit on the sand and sing hymns, too!” added Tom sanctimoniously.

  “Ye gods and little fishes!” said Lauderdale as he climbed into the plane and began fastening his helmet. “See you tomorrow at noon sharp, Jane!”

  Then his foot touched something, and he lifted a large florist’s box, flinging it out as the plane started. It landed at Jane’s feet.

  “I brought these along for you,” he shouted above the whirr of the plane. “You might as well have them.”

  And then the great bird rose into the air, sailed out over the sea, and presently was lost to sight in the distance and only then did Sherwood lift his eyes from the book he was reading.

  “Pretty sight, a big plane like that, isn’t it?” he said, coming to meet them and studying Jane furtively with his keen gray eyes.

  “Gee! I’m glad that guy is gone!” said Tom with relief as he gazed long into the sky toward New York.

  “You certainly did your best to keep him,” said his sister somewhat sarcastically, “offering him a bunk on the floor!”

  Tom looked at Sherwood and winked with the eye his sister could not see. “Well, I ask you, did you want that little shrimp staying here all night and spoiling everything? Sitting round the table and taking up room? Bristling up like a wet hen every time anybody spoke to him? I ask you, did ya?”

  “Did you suppose I’d care to have any of my friends here with a part of the family feeling the way you do, Tom?” asked his sister mildly. “Of course I’d like my family to know people who have been nice to me, and not take such dislikes before they’ve hardly met them.”

  “Well, anybody doesn’t have to know that guy to see what he is, does he, John?” appealed Tom. “Say, Jinny, why don’t ya open yer flowers?”

  “Let Betty Lou open them,” said Jane, dropping indifferently down on the sand as if she were tired.

  So Betty Lou, with cheeks rosy as a cherub’s and eyes shining like stars, undid the box with trembling, excited fingers and brought to view deep-hearted roses, golden with warm shadows, pink and white and crimson!

  “They don’t look real,” said the little girl, looking at them in wonder.

  “Take them in the house, Bettykins, and put them in water. I think I saw a glass pitcher. That will be lovely for them.”

  “They don’t smell much,” said Betty Lou with a disappointed look, “but they look a lot, don’t they? Did he mean for you to wear them, Sister?”

  “He meant me to do what I liked with them,” said Jane pleasantly, “and I’d like to have you pin one on your dress and put the rest in water where everybody can enjoy them.”

  Betty Lou carried the flowers into the cottage and had a happy time arranging them on the table, coming out presently with a lovely bud pinned to her white dress.

  But the three people on the sand had somehow lost their camaraderie. The coming and going of that airplane had left a harsh note behind that they could not get away from.

  “Gosh, I don’t see what he hadta come for!” said Tom as they gathered up their things at last and went slowly into the house to get supper.

  “Oh, forget him!” said Jane crossly. “Let’s not spoil our good time!” And there was something in the tone in which she said it that somehow cheered the rest of them and dispelled the annoyance of the afternoon. They lingered a moment on the porch to watch a curtsying sail on the brim of silver and pink and blue before they turned to the evening task, and somehow their happiness returned.

  The clam chowder was a great success, and the table shone with Lauderdale’s roses till Jane said suddenly, “Take them away, Tom. They fill the
table too full, and we can’t see each other over them.”

  Tom jumped up quite willingly to carry them into the living room table. “Weeds,” he said, “just weeds! Whadda we want with them when we’re eating?”

  But Betty Lou seemed greatly distressed, and Mother pled to keep them, they were so beautiful.

  “I’m glad he gave them to you, Jinny,” said the little sister. “I never saw so many roses together before, except in a florist’s window. And to think we can keep them all.”

  “Leave them where they are then, Tom, if Mother likes them,” said Jane. “And Bettykins has arranged them so beautifully. They are nice, aren’t they, Betty Lou?”

  “Yes,” chirped Betty Lou, “and, Tom, you don’t have to dislike the roses just because you don’t like the man who brought them. They are God’s roses.”

  “Aw, well, have it yer own way then. Dad, I’d like some more chowder. Say, Jane, didn’t I see some cake in that tin box?”

  “You surely did!” said Jane with a sparkle of good humor. “Peaches, too. You know our guest brought peaches, and I’ve cut them up with sugar, and we have a whole pitcher of cream to eat on them.”

  “Yumyumyum!” said Tom. “That’s okay with me.”

  “I’m not a guest,” said Sherwood. “Please don’t make me remember that I have to go home to a boardinghouse tomorrow.”

  “And why do you?” asked Tom, pausing midway in a bite. “Can’t ya come back to-morra night, I’d like ta know? I don’t think you’re much of a sport if you don’t.”

  “Oh, but—I couldn’t impose on your vacation like that,” began Sherwood.

  “Impose nothing!” said Tom. “How we going ta get along without ya? You and I gotta get in some fishing and sailing.”

  “Perhaps Mr. Sherwood is bored to death down here, Tom,” suggested Jane politely. “You mustn’t make it too insistent, although it would be wonderful if he could stay all the way through, wouldn’t it, Mother? Dad?”

  “I was hoping you were staying with us till we go back,” said the mother, smiling a real mother smile at Sherwood.

  “Yes,” said Mr. Arleth, beaming at the guest, “I’d take it very kindly if you would come back every night and see us through. Perhaps I might even let you bring me down again tomorrow night if you are driving down.”

  But then arose a sudden clamor.

  “Now, look here, Dad,” began Tom as if he were the elder. “You can just cut that out. I’m boss here, and I’ve had my orders from the doctor. No going up ta town fer you till the hot weather breaks! Now you needn’t go try ta argue. This is facts.”

  “Now, Father dear,” put in Jane, “don’t look so sweet and worried. Didn’t you know we weren’t going to think of allowing you back in the heat yet? Listen, I’ve planned to go to your office tomorrow myself and have a little talk with your boss. I know I can make him understand. And you know, in this hot weather, nobody is doing any great amount of business, so there is nothing whatever to worry about.”

  Then Sherwood put in a word. “You know in the end it won’t pay to go too soon, Mr. Arleth.”

  Jane threw him a grateful look, and he went on talking just as if he were another son.

  At last the invalid settled back in his chair, and smiled resignedly. “Well, if I must I must,” he said. “I’ll wait another day at least, and Mother and I will play at a second honeymoon and get so strong and fat that by night you won’t know us when you come back. You’re coming back, aren’t you, Sherwood? We really couldn’t do without you now that we’ve had a taste of your society.”

  “Sure he is!” said Tom. “How would Jane get back every night without him? They say the trains aren’t running on summer schedule anymore. She might not get back here before nine o’clock or later.”

  “Now, Tom, you mustn’t put it that way. I insist Mr. Sherwood shall not be made to feel he must come unless he wants to.”

  “Ho! You needn’t worry about that!” Sherwood grinned. “I’m just hunting excuses to get back. If that’s really reasonable I’m convinced, but it does seem as if my being here makes you more crowded—”

  “That’ll be plenty!” said Tom. “We better quit right here! You’re coming back! See?”

  “All right, if Miss Jane says so,” said Sherwood with a pleased grin.

  “Jane without the Miss certainly does,” answered Jane heartily. “I’ll be pleased simply to get a ride down every night, to say nothing of the good company both ways. But there’s one thing I shall insist on, and that’s that I pay for the gas.”

  “All right,” said Sherwood promptly, “provided you let me pay for my board and lodging.”

  They all broke down laughing at that, passed the cake again, and were all pleased to see that Father and Mother were as happy as the rest of them.

  When the peaches and cream were finished, they shoved back their chairs a little from the table as if it were a custom, and Betty Lou brought her father a worn Bible from his bedroom.

  “I’ll just read a short psalm,” he said in his quiet voice and began, “ ‘He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust.’ ”

  All through the lovely words Sherwood listened intently, looking at the fine, patient lines etched in the face of this true nobleman of God.

  The prayer that followed the reading impressed him deeply, as the family, just sitting quietly around the evening table, bowed their heads as a matter of course while the father prayed. It was the first time Sherwood had ever been present at a family worship, and it stirred him strangely. Yet there did not seem to be anything out of place in the sweet sacrament. He felt as if it were something he would treasure in his memory long, and it seemed to give a key to the understanding of children that had grown up in such a home.

  Later, the young people took one more walk down the beach in the moonlight.

  “Just to get our lungs full of salt air for tomorrow,” laughed Jane as she stood close to the water’s edge, drawing in deep breaths and extending her arms as if she would gather in all the beauty of the night.

  They all turned in before ten o’clock because Jane and Sherwood must leave so early in the morning, and when they were dropping off to sleep, reviewing the happy day, somehow the memory of Lauderdale grew hazy and remote, a flying speck in a misty sky.

  Tom got breakfast in the morning—scrambled eggs, coffee, and toast, his only menu, and promised faithfully to help Betty Lou wash the dishes. Also he had much to say about the things he was going to do to the boat while Jane and Sherwood were away, to make it seaworthy for a bit of fishing.

  In the sparkle of another lovely day, Jane and Sherwood were off and had a nice ride up to the city. Indeed it seemed all too brief, now that they had no invalids to go slowly for, and when they began to get into the ride of traffic, and the heat of the morning radiated up from the hot highway, showing them that the summer had by no means abated in the city, they harked back to yesterday and talked of how good it was going to be to go back again that night.

  “How soon can you get away from your work tonight?” asked Sherwood. “Can you make it by quarter to five?”

  “I could,” said Jane hesitating, “but I guess I ought to take that fifteen minutes to run over to Father’s office and have a talk with the manager. I’m afraid Father’s fears have some foundation. He seems greatly worried about his job.”

  “Why couldn’t we stop there now on the way to the office? Wouldn’t he be in so early?”

  “He might,” said Jane thoughtfully. “Do you think we’ll get there early enough to stop? We mustn’t be late ourselves. At least, it won’t matter so much about me because Mr. Dulaney understood about my going to the shore on Father’s and Mother’s account. Besides, I’m under a special dispensation just now on account of having accommodated them in an emergency, though of course I don’t want to ask too many favors. But you are new at the office, yo
u know, and I don’t want to be the cause of your getting a reproof.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about that,” said Sherwood complacently. “I think I can explain. Anyway, we’ll drop you there, and if they keep you too long I’ll just drive on and you’ll understand and take the trolley the rest of the way. It’s only four blocks away from our office, isn’t it? Your father told me where it was.”

  It did not take them long to get through the early morning traffic in the lower part of the city, and Jane was soon landed at her father’s office.

  “Don’t wait more than five minutes for me,” she commanded. “I’ll try and be only three.”

  She came out in less than the five minutes, her face a little grave and troubled.

  “He wasn’t there,” she explained. “He’s up in the mountains somewhere. The man who is taking Father’s place had just come in, and he was very nice—at least as nice as a man like that could be—I don’t like him much. He has fishy eyes and a big blustery mouth. He said to tell Dad they were getting on fine without him and that he mustn’t think of coming back until he was thoroughly well. He said a man who had been with the firm so long could afford a good vacation in such hot weather, and he had better stay the whole month. He took the Lynn Haven address and said they were sending Dad his paycheck today for the rest of the month, and he hoped he would have a glorious time resting and soon get well. It all sounded perfectly lovely, but somehow there was a sinister note in his voice. I hope Father doesn’t hear it in my tones tonight or sense it in my eye. Father certainly is uncanny when you try to deceive him.”

  “Yes,” said Sherwood thoughtfully, “he’s pretty keen. I’ve noticed that. But I should think together we might put it across.”

  “Yes, we’ll try,” said Jane earnestly, not realizing how she was including Sherwood in the family plans. “If they only don’t overdo it urging him to stay away. If they’ll only say they miss him or something like that and let it go at that. But they won’t! I’m positive that fishy-eyed man wants the job for himself. His uncle is one of the firm, you know.”