The Silent Harp

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Well, bless us all! Isn’t that wonderful!” Seana’s eyes shone. Never one to hold back her emotions, she kissed her father again, then twirled across the floor in a series of circles. “Now we’ll make that house a bit of old Wales!”

  ****

  Sharon looked out the front parlor window when she heard a car approaching. She had been reading a book while waiting for the new gardener and his daughter to arrive. The old Model T Ford backfired a couple of times before stopping in the driveway. The butler had the day off, so she opened the door herself and invited them in. “Good morning,” she said with a smile, “You must be Gwilym Morgan.”

  “Indeed I am, ma’am.”

  “I am Sharon Winslow. My father asked me to look after you when you got here. My parents are in town on business.”

  “There’s kind of you, Miss Winslow. This is my daughter, Seana.”

  Sharon turned to the daughter and said, “It’s so nice to meet you, Seana.” What an attractive girl, she thought. “Come along, and I’ll show you to the cottage.”

  Sharon walked to the cottage while the father and daughter got back in the car. The cottage was on the edge of a group of oaks that grew high into the air, and she turned and waited until the pair got out of the ancient vehicle.

  “There is beautiful, it is!” the young woman exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she impulsively hugged her father. “You see how the good God takes care of us, Father?”

  “Indeed I do.”

  The trio went inside, and both William and Seana showed their pleasure openly. The large main room had a small kitchen at one end with a gas cookstove, at which Seana exclaimed with delight, “No more ashes and smoke!” She opened the cabinets and found they were filled with dishes and plenty of cooking utensils. A round dining room table and four chairs rounded out the kitchen area. “This is fine indeed!” Seana said. “Wait you, now”—she smiled at her father—“see if I don’t fatten you up like an old pig.”

  The rest of the room was comfortably furnished with a leather couch, two easy chairs, and brass floor lamps. The walls were papered in a cheerful light blue pattern. The two bedrooms down the hall from the main room were across from each other, and both were surprisingly large and furnished with beds, dressers, and ample closets. The bathroom was immaculate.

  “I hope you’ll find it comfortable here,” Sharon said.

  “What kind of people would we be if we didn’t find this comfortable? It’s like heaven on earth, isn’t it, Father?”

  “It is indeed. Very luxurious, Miss Winslow.”

  Sharon thought of the opulence of the mansion she lived in and for a moment a strange feeling assailed her. These people think this is a mansion. I’ve been spoiled beyond redemption. She was enjoying the company of these two pleasant people. Turning to the girl, she said, “I understand that you’re in the nursing program at City Hospital.”

  “Yes, indeed, and a fine hospital it is, ma’am.”

  “Have you wanted to be a nurse a long time?”

  “Forever,” Seana said with an intensity that seemed to fill the room.

  “She had no chance in Wales to get any special training,” Gwilym said. “You can look at her hands and see she worked like a man on the farm with me.”

  “You were farmers, then?”

  “I was a coal miner in my younger days. Then I farmed the old home place, but there was no living in that, so I took a job working for a big landowner, caring for his grounds. Seana here, she worked right alongside of me.” Affection was evident in Gwilym Morgan’s face as he said, “She’s a wonder of a girl, she is. That’s the truth of it, ma’am.”

  “Well, I’m so happy you’ve come. Your reputation has preceded you, William. Mr. Wells says you’re the second-best gardener in the world,” Sharon said with a smile. “He thinks his own man, Benny, is the best, of course.”

  “I hope to please. It’s good to be here in this amazing big country where a man can spread himself out.”

  Sharon started to leave, but when she got to the door, she turned back and said, “I realize you’re going to be very busy for a time, Seana, but there’s a favor you might do for me.”

  “Anything at all, Miss Winslow.”

  “Perhaps you don’t know that I’m a sculptor. I’m always looking for models, and I wonder if you would pose for a bust for me.”

  “A bust? What’s that?”

  “Just a statue of your head and shoulders, not full length.”

  “Of me? Well, devil fly off! Wouldn’t that be something, Father?”

  “I’d love to see such a thing,” Gwilym said.

  “Then we’ll get together and talk about it,” Sharon said. “I usually pay my models a little something, so that might help.”

  “No need to pay me,” Seana quickly replied.

  “We’ll argue about that later,” Sharon said as she left.

  When the door closed Seana turned to her father and swept him into an energetic dance, leaving him no choice but to dance too.

  “Whist, woman! You’re going to make a dance hall out of our new home?”

  “Yes, and a concert stage too. There’ll be singing and dancing in this house, or you’ll find me flat on the floor!”

  ****

  As Clayton got out of the car, he started toward the house, then decided instead to check on his new stallion first. He was wearing his best suit, tailor-made for him, for he had been to a dinner given by the dean of his college to the more promising students. The light gray double-breasted suit fit his tall figure admirably. He was an even six feet, trim and athletic. He loved swimming and was a member of the swimming team. Now as he moved, it was with a lazy grace. When he got to the stable, he saw that the doors were open and walked in. He couldn’t see very well in the semidarkness, but he still moved confidently down the familiar corridor of stalls. He saw someone shoveling industriously and called out, “Is that you, Mack?” Mack was the boy who usually took care of mucking out the stables.

  “No, it’s not.”

  At first Clayton thought it was a boy clothed in a pair of overalls, but now that his eyes were adjusting to the dark, he quickly saw his mistake. It was a young woman with enormous eyes and red hair that escaped from beneath her soft hat. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “It’s Seana Morgan, I am.”

  “Seana Morgan? Are you the new stable hand here?”

  “Indeed I am not!” Her voice had a lilt to it that caught his attention, and he studied her more closely. She had creamy skin and was probably not yet twenty, he imagined. Her attractive figure was apparent to him even under the work clothes she wore.

  “Well, whoever you are, you’re a better-looking hand than Mack. I’m Clayton Winslow.”

  “Happy to know you, I am.”

  Clayton was intrigued by the girl. In truth Clayton had a history of being flirtatious with the attractive young women who worked in the house. It was harmless fun, for he had not had a relationship with any of them. Now he said, “It’s nice to come home and find a beautiful girl taking care of my horse.”

  Seana did not answer. Leaning against the shovel in her hands, she studied the forward young man. She had been warned about Clayton by one of the maids, who had giggled and said, “He likes to steal a kiss now and then. He’s not as bad as some, but he might give you a hug. Don’t make anything of it.”

  “What’s the matter?” Seana asked.

  “You don’t come from this country, do you?”

  “No, I’m from Wales.”

  “Wales, is it? I always make a habit of welcoming newcomers to America with a kiss.”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and attempted to kiss her but suddenly found himself shoved backward with a surprising strength. He cried, “Hey—!” as he staggered back, tripping and falling flat.

  As soon as Clayton hit the ground, he knew he had fallen right into the pile of fresh manure Seana had been shoveling. Anger and embarrassment mingled as he got up, covered in the mess. He gr
abbed for a handkerchief but knew that he made a ridiculous sight.

  “Why, you little vixen! You can’t do that to me.” Clayton started toward her, but she lifted the shovel in warning, her eyes as cold as polar ice.

  “Stay away from me or I’ll knock you down again!”

  Clayton smelled the rank odor of the manure that covered the back of his new suit. He gritted his teeth and said, “You’re fired!” then turned and stalked away. He was not accustomed to having women reject his advances, and he burned with anger.

  He left and tried to sneak into the house without being seen, but of course, he encountered several of the servants. He could hear them giggling as he passed by, which did not help his emotional state.

  ****

  Sharon looked up as Clayton came into the parlor. “Why, hello, Clayton. I didn’t know—”

  “Sharon, where’s Dad?”

  “He’s in town. What’s wrong?”

  “It’s that . . . that girl!”

  “What girl?”

  “The one who’s working in the stable.”

  “Oh yes, that’s Seana Morgan. She’s the daughter of the new gardener, William.”

  “Well, she’s not working here anymore. I fired her.”

  Sharon saw that Clayton was angry to the bone. “What happened?” she asked.

  “She insulted me.”

  “Insulted you? How?”

  “Never mind. She’s fired!”

  Sharon said, “She can’t be fired.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she doesn’t work for us. Her father does. She’s training to be a nurse at City Hospital. She was just helping her father.”

  “Then he’s fired too!”

  Ordinarily Clayton was pleasant and courteous, but sometimes when his will was crossed, he could flare out unexpectedly. “Here, sit down and tell me what happened.”

  “I won’t sit down! That girl is insolent.” He tried to put her off, but Sharon got the story out of him. And he finished by saying, “And she ruined my best suit! You’re lucky I’ve changed out of it already.”

  “Clayton, she didn’t shove you down for nothing.”

  “I was just going to give her a little kiss.”

  “I see. Suppose one of the servants tried to give me a little kiss.”

  He muttered, “That’s entirely different.”

  “I’ve known for a long time that you’ve taken liberties with some of the young women who work here. I think it’s terrible of you. They have no defense.”

  “I never hurt any of them. Just give them a little kiss or a hug.”

  “Well, this girl is not one of our maids. If you forced yourself on her, I think she should have hit you with that shovel. I thought better of you, Clayton.”

  For a moment Clayton stood there, his face burning. He started to speak but clamped his lips together, turned, and walked out without a word.

  Sharon watched him go and shook her head. He’s a good young man, but he thinks too much of himself. I’d like to congratulate Seana, and I will if she ever mentions it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A Knight in Denim

  Sharon ate breakfast hurriedly, listening to her parents talk about their plans for the day. She took a good look at her father, who at the age of sixty-seven was still a handsome man. His hair was now fully gray, but it was still healthy and glossy. His body had grown only slightly stooped and somewhat thick.

  Her father remarked, “William Morgan is one of the finest gardeners in the United States. I’m monstrously proud that we were able to get him.”

  Sharon bit off a bit of toast and chewed it. “Clayton doesn’t care much for William’s daughter.”

  “What’s the trouble there?” Leland frowned. “He told me I should fire William because of her, but he wouldn’t tell me what the problem is. What’s the girl done?”

  Sharon did not think it fair to go into the details, so she simply summed up the incident. “Oh, you know how Clayton is. He’s been kissing the maids since he was sixteen years old. He doesn’t mean anything by it, of course, but when he tried it with Seana, she rejected him. I think his pride was hurt.”

  “Well, I can’t fire the best gardener in the country simply because Clayton’s feelings are hurt!”

  “Perhaps the girl doesn’t know her place,” Lucille offered, taking up Clayton’s cause, as was her habit. “I haven’t met her, but he says she’s insolent.”

  At one time Sharon would have sympathized more with her mother’s defense of Clayton. He had always been the darling of Sharon’s life. While he was growing up, she had been like a second mother to him, but in the last few years she had become painfully aware that Clayton was a tremendous snob, and she was no longer so willing to defend him. “He needs to be more careful how he treats people, Mother, especially those he considers beneath him. He thinks his behavior shows his superiority.” Getting to her feet, she said, “I’ve got to go into town to get some art supplies. I won’t be back until late this afternoon.”

  She left the house and went directly to her studio to make a list of needed supplies. The mild March weather had turned brisk and blustery, and she pulled her coat tightly about her as she came back to get in her car. As she did so, she saw Seana coming out of the cottage and called to her, “Good morning, Seana.”

  Looking up, Seana smiled and waved. She came over and said, “You’re going into town, are you, Miss Winslow?”

  “Look, why don’t you just call me Sharon. I’m not your employer.”

  “That would be nice. Sharon’s such a beautiful name.”

  “So is Seana. I suppose people misspell it all the time.”

  “Yes, they usually write S-h-a-u-n-a.”

  “What does Seana mean in Welsh?”

  “Actually it’s a Gaelic name. It means ‘gift from God.’”

  “How lovely!” Sharon smiled. For a moment she hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry about the trouble you had with Clayton. My brother is too forward and a bit high tempered. He’s spoiled, and I’m sorry to admit I did most of the spoiling.”

  Seana had grown cautious as Sharon brought up the subject of Clayton, but when she saw the woman meant no harm, she laughed and ran her hand through her red hair. “He was a bit out of line, but he lost his dignity when he landed in that muck. I didn’t really mean to do that.”

  “I would probably have done worse. Hit him with the shovel, I suppose.” The two laughed together, and then Sharon asked, “You want to be a nurse very much, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”

  “And then you’ll work in a hospital?”

  “I hope I’ll be able to serve God as a missionary.” Her smooth brow wrinkled slightly as she went on. “What I’d love to be is a doctor, but that costs too much. So I’ll be a nurse, maybe in China or Africa. I know it sounds foolish, but God has put this desire on my heart.”

  Sharon was charmed by the girl. She had a simplicity about her that was completely natural and unassuming. Yet there was a hint of temper in her wide-spaced green eyes and a firmness about her mouth. “Well, I must go. I hope you have a good day, Seana.”

  “And may the good Lord make the grass green beneath your feet, Sharon.”

  Sharon laughed as she got into her new Ford station wagon. She was proud to have her own car now, and the station wagon was certainly an eye-catcher. She loved the look of the glossy walnut and birch that formed the outer body. More than its appearance, though, Sharon was delighted to have a car large enough to haul around her art supplies. She started the engine and, waving to Seana, took the car down the drive at a fast clip.

  ****

  By the time Sharon had finished all of her business in town and loaded the back of the car with art supplies, it was late afternoon and she was anxious to get back home. Seeing that traffic was heavy on the main highway, she turned off onto a dirt road. The shortcut was a serpentine affair that wove back and forth between farm fields that were vacan
t now, for it was too early for spring planting.

  She had gone approximately half the distance to her home when suddenly the car lurched, and there was a clanging sound followed by a whirring rattle. The car immediately lost power, and Sharon only had time to steer it to the edge of the dirt road before it rolled to a stop with a shudder.

  She knew nothing about what made cars run, but nonetheless she got out, pulled up the hood, and stared at the engine. “What in the world is wrong with you?” she said to the car impatiently. She could see nothing wrong, of course, and shook her head with irritation. She looked around, but there was no house in sight. It would be dark in half an hour, and she tried to think how long it had been since she had passed a house where she might call for help. Not remembering any close by, she decided the only solution was to start walking home. She had walked no more than twenty feet when a vehicle appeared in the distance coming her way. Relief washed over her, and she went back to stand beside the Ford with its hood still up. As the vehicle approached, she saw that it was an old battered truck with two men inside.

  “It’s probably too much to hope that one of them is a mechanic,” she muttered. “But at least they could take me home, and I can have a wrecker come out.”

  The truck rolled to a stop, and the driver pulled over in front of the Ford and got out. He was a huge, bulky man, and on the other side of the truck a smaller man got out, slamming the door. As the two approached her, the smaller man said, “Won’tcha lookee what we got here, Jake.”

  The big man had a blunt face with battered features and close-set eyes. “We got us a lady here, Ed,” he said, grinning broadly, revealing yellowed teeth. “A damsel in distress them romances call it, I think.”

  Sharon felt a touch of fear. They were rough-looking men. The smaller one had a face like a ferret, and both of them wore shabby clothes with threadbare felt caps shoved back on their heads.

  “Do you think you could help me with my car?” Sharon ventured. “It made a strange noise and then stopped.”