CHAPTER XXVII
There was only one other passenger in the car, an old man noddingbehind a newspaper, with his chair facing in the other direction.Graham took a swift survey of him and turned happily back with a smileto Shirley:
"At last I have you to myself!" he said with a sigh of satisfactionthat made Shirley's cheeks bloom out rosily again.
He whirled her chair and his quite away from the vision of the old man,so that they were at the nearest possible angle to each other, andfacing the windows. Then he sat down and leaned toward her.
"Shirley," he said in a tone of proprietorship that was tender andbeautiful, "I've waited just as long as I'm going to wait to tell yousomething. I know it's lunch time, and I'm going to take you into thedining-car pretty soon and get you some lunch, but I must have a littlechance to talk with you first, please."
Shirley's eyes gave glad permission and he hurried on.
"Shirley, I love you. I guess you've been seeing that for some time.I knew I ought to hide it till you knew me better, but I simplycouldn't do it. I never saw a girl like you, and I knew the minute Ilooked at you that you were of finer clay than other girls, anyway. Iknew that if I couldn't win you and marry you I would never loveanybody else. But yesterday when I heard you were in peril away offdown in Washington and I away up here helpless to save you, and noteven having the right to organize a search for you, I nearly went wild!All the way down on the train I kept shutting my eyes and trying topray the way you told your Sunday School boys how to pray. But all Icould get out was, 'Oh, God, I love her! Save her! I love her!'Shirley, I know I'm not one-half worthy enough for you, but I love youwith all my heart and I want you for my wife. Will you marry me,Shirley?"
When she had recovered a little from her wonder and astonishment, andrealized that he had asked her to marry him, and was waiting for hisanswer, she lifted her wondering eyes to his face, and tried to speakas her conscience and reason bade her.
"But I'm not like the other girls you know," she said bravely. Then hebroke in upon her fervently.
"No, you're not like any other girl I know in the whole wide world.Thank God for that! You are one among a thousand! No, you're oneamong the whole earthful of women! You're the _only_ one I could everlove!"
"But listen, please; you haven't thought. I'm not a society girl. Idon't belong in your circle. I couldn't grace your position the wayyour wife ought to do. Remember, we're nobodies. We're poor! We livein a _barn_!"
"What do you suppose I care about that?" he answered eagerly. "You maylive in a barn all your days if you like, and I'll love you just thesame. I'll come and live in the barn with you if you want me to. Myposition! My circle! What's that? You'll grace my home and my lifeas no other girl could do. You heart of my heart! You strong, sweetspirit! The only question I'm going to ask of you is, Can you love me?If you can, I know I can make you happy, for I love you better than mylife. Answer, please. Do you love me?"
She lifted her eyes, and their spirits broke through their glances. Ifthe old man at the other end of the car was looking they did not knowit.
They came back to the cottage at the shore with a manner so blissfuland so unmistakable that even the children noticed. Elizabethwhispered to Carol at table: "My brother likes your sister a lot,doesn't he? I hope she likes him, too."
"I guess she does," responded Carol philosophically. "She oughtta.He's been awfully good to her, and to all of us."
"People don't like people just for that," said wise Elizabeth.
Harley, out on the veranda after dinner, drew near to Carol to confide.
"Say, kid, I guess he _has_ got a case on her all right now. Gee!Wouldn't that be great? Think of all those cars!"
But Carol giggled.
"Good night! Harley! How could we ever have a wedding in a barn? Andthey're such particular people, too!"
"Aw, gee!" said Harley, disgusted. "You girls are always thinking ofthings like that! As if that mattered. You can get married in achicken-run if you really have a case like that on each other! _Youmake me tired!_" and he stalked away in offended male dignity.
Meantime the unconscious subjects of this discussion had gone to Mrs.Hollister to confess, and the sea was forgotten by all three for thatone evening at least, even though the moon was wide and bright and gavea golden pathway across the dark water. For a great burden had rolledfrom Mrs. Hollister's shoulders when she found her beloved eldestdaughter was really loved by this young man, and he was not justamusing himself for a little while at her expense.
The days that followed were like one blissful fleeting dream toShirley. She just could not get used to the fact that she was engagedto such a prince among men! It seemed as if she were dreaming, andthat presently she would wake up and find herself in the office with agreat pile of letters to write, and the perplexing problem before herof where they were going to live next winter. She had broached thatsubject once to Graham shyly, saying that she must begin to look aroundas soon as she got back to town, and he put her aside, asking her toleave that question till they all went back, as he had a plan hethought she might think well of, but he couldn't tell her about it justyet. He also began to urge her to write at once to Mr. Barnard andresign her position, but that she would not hear of.
"No," she said decidedly. "We couldn't live without my salary, andthere are a lot of things to be thought out and planned before I can bemarried. Besides, we need to get to know each other and to grow intoeach other's lives a little bit. You haven't any idea even now how farI am from being fitted to be the wife of a man in your position. Youmay be sorry yet. If you are ever going to find it out, I want you todo it beforehand."
He looked adoringly into her eyes.
"I know perfectly now, dear heart!" he said, "and I'm not going to besatisfied to wait a long time for you to find out that you don't reallycare for me after all. If you've got to find that out, I believe I'drather it would be after I have you close and fast and you'll _have_ tolike me anyway."
And then the wonder and thrill of it all would roll over her again andshe would look into his eyes and be satisfied.
Still she continued quite decided that nothing could be done aboutprolonging her vacation, for she meant to go back to Barnard andClegg's on the day set.
"You know I'm the man of the house," she said archly. "I can't quitesee it at all myself--how I'm ever going to give up."
"But I thought I was going to be the man of the house," pleaded Sidney."I'm sure I'm quite capable and eager to look out for the interests ofmy wife's family."
"But you see I'm not the kind of a girl that has been looking aroundfor a man who will support my family."
"No, you surely are not!" said the young man, laughing. "If you hadbeen, young lady, I expect you'd have been looking yet so far as I amconcerned. It is because you are what you are that I love you. Nowthat's all right about being independent, but it's about time to fightthis thing to a finish. I don't see why we all have to be mademiserable just because there are a lot of unpleasant precedents andconventions and crochets in the world. Why may I not have the pleasureof helping to take care of your perfectly good family if I want to? Itis one of the greatest pleasures to which I am looking forward, to tryand make them just as happy as I can, so that you will be the happier.I've got plenty to do it with. God has been very good to me in thatway, and why should you try to hinder me?"
And then the discussion would end in a bewildering look of worshipfuladmiration on Shirley's part and a joyous taking possession of her andcarrying her off on some ride or walk or other on the part of Graham.
He did not care just now that she was slow to make plans. He wasenjoying each day, each hour, to the full. He wanted to keep her fromthinking about the future, and especially about the winter, till shegot home, and so he humored her and led her to other topics.
One night, as they sat on the dark veranda alone, Graham said to George:
"If you were going to college, wher
e would you want to prepare?"
He wondered what the boy would say, for the subject of college hadnever been mentioned with relation to George. He did not know whetherthe boy had ever thought of it. But the answer came promptly in aringing voice:
"Central High! They've got the best football team in the city."
"Then you wouldn't want to go away to some preparatory school?"
"No, _sir_!" was the decided answer. "I believe in the public schoolevery time! When I was a little kid I can remember my father taking meto walk and pointing out the Central High School, and telling me thatsome day I would go there to school. I used to always call that 'myschool.' I used to think I'd get there yet, some day, but I guessthat's out of the question."
"Well, George, if that's your choice you can get ready to enter as soonas you go back to the city."
"What?" George's feet came down from the veranda railing with a thud,and he sat upright in the darkness and stared wildly at his prospectivebrother-in-law. Then he slowly relaxed and his young face grew grimand stern.
"No chance!" he said laconically.
"Why not?"
"Because I've got my mother and the children to support. I can't wastetime going to school. I've got to be a _man_."
Something sudden like a choke came in the young man's throat, and agreat love for the brave boy who was so courageous in his self-denial.
"George, you're not a man yet, and you'll shoulder the burden twice aswell when you're equipped with a college education. I mean you shallhave it. Do you suppose I'm going to let my new brother slave awaybefore his time? No, sir; you're going to get ready to make the bestman that's in you. And as for your mother and the family, isn't shegoing to be my mother, and aren't they to be my family? We'll justshoulder the job together, George, till you're older--and then we'llsee."
"But I couldn't take charity from anybody."
"Not even from a brother?"
"Not even from a brother."
"Well, suppose we put it in another way. Suppose you borrow the moneyfrom me to keep things going, and when you are ready to pay it backwe'll talk about it then. Or, better still, suppose you agree to passit on to some other brother when you are able."
They talked a long time in the dark, and Graham had quite a hard timebreaking down the boy's reserve and independence, and getting a realbrotherly confidence. But at last George yielded, saw the common senseand right of the thing, and laid an awkward hand in the man's, growlingout:
"You're a pippin and no mistake, Mr. Graham. I can't ever thank youenough! I never thought anything like this would happen to me!"
"Don't try thanks, George. We're brothers now, you know. Just you doyour best at school, and it's all I ask. Shirley and I are going to bewonderfully proud of you. But please don't call me Mr. Graham anymore. Sid, or Sidney, or anything you like, but no more mistering."
He filing a brotherly arm across the boy's shoulders and together theywent into the house.
Meantime the beautiful days went by in one long, golden dream ofwonder. The children were having the time of their lives, andElizabeth was never so happy. Shirley sat on the wide verandas andread the wealth of books and magazines which the house contained, orroamed the beach with the children and Star, or played in the waveswith Doris, and wondered if it were really Shirley Hollister who washaving all this good time.
CHAPTER XXVIII
The morning they all started back to the city was a memorable one.Graham had insisted that Shirley ask for a holiday until Tuesdaymorning so that she might go up with them in the car, and have thewhole day to be at home and help her mother get settled. She hadconsented, and found to her surprise that Mr. Barnard was most kindabout it. He had even added that he intended to raise her salary, andshe might consider that hereafter she was to have ten dollars more permonth for her services, which they valued very highly.
George had sent his resignation to the store and was not to go back atall. Graham had arranged that, for school began the day after hisreturn and he would need to be free at once.
Elizabeth, to her great delight, was to go with the Hollisters andremain a few days until her parents returned. Mrs. Graham had writtenfrom the West making a proposition to Mrs. Hollister that Carol beallowed to go to school with Elizabeth the next winter, because Mrs.Graham felt it would be so good for Elizabeth to have a friend likethat. Mrs. Hollister, however, answered that she felt it better forher little girl to remain with her mother a little longer; and that shedid not feel it would be a good thing for her child, who would belikely to have a simple life before her with very few luxuries, to goto a fashionable finishing-school where the standards must allnecessarily be so different from those of her own station in life, and,kind as the offer had been, she must decline it. She did not say thatCarol had fairly bristled at the idea of leaving her beloved highschool now when she was a senior and only one year before hergraduation. That bit of horror and hysterics on Carol's part had beencarefully suppressed within the four walls of her mother's room; butElizabeth, deeply disappointed, had wept her heart out over the matter,and finally been comforted by the promise that Mrs. Hollister wouldwrite and ask Mrs. Graham to allow Elizabeth to go to school with Carolthe coming winter. That proposition was now on its way West, togetherwith an announcement of Sidney's engagement to Shirley. Sidney wasconfidently expecting congratulatory telegrams that morning when hereached the city. He had written his father in detail all about theirplans for returning, and how the work at the old barn was progressing,and Mr. Graham, Senior, was too good a manager not to plan to greet theoccasion properly. Therefore Graham stopped at his office for a fewminutes before taking the family out to Glenside, and, sure enough,came down with his hands full of letters and telegrams, and one longwhite envelope which he put carefully in his breast pocket. They had agreat time reading the telegrams and letters.
The way out to Glenside seemed very short now, watching as they did foreach landmark. The children were as eager to get back as they had beento leave, and Star snuggled in between Harley's feet, held his headhigh, and smiled benevolently on everybody, as if he knew he was goinghome and was glad. They began to wonder about the chickens, and if thegarden was all dried up, and whether the doves were all right. Therewas an undertone of sadness and suppressed excitement, for it was inthe minds of all the Hollisters that the time in the old barn must ofnecessity be growing brief. The fall would soon be upon them, and aneed for warmth. They must go hunting for a house at once. And yetthey all wanted this one day of delight before they faced that question.
At last they reached the final curve and could see the tall old tree inthe distance, and the clump of willows knee-deep in the brook. Bycommon consent they all grew silent, watching for the first glimpse ofthe dear old barn.
Then they came around the curve, and there it was! But what was thematter?
Nobody spoke. It seemed as if they could not get their breath.
Shirley rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Mrs. Hollister gave astartled look from her daughter to Graham and back to the barn again.Elizabeth and Carol were utterly silent, grasping each other's hands inviolent ecstasy. The boys murmured inarticulately, of which the onlyaudible words were: "Good night! Some class!" Doris looked for a longsecond, puckered her lips as if she were going to cry, and inquiredpitifully: "I yant my dear barn house home! I yant to doh home!" andStar uttered a sharp, bewildered bark and bounded from the car as ifthis were something he ought to attend to.
But before anybody could say anything more, Graham brought out the longwhite envelope and handed it to Shirley.
"Before you get out and go in I just want to say a word," he began."Father and I both want Shirley to have the old barn for her very own,to do with as she pleases. This envelope contains the deed for theproperty made out in her name. We have tried to put it in thoroughrepair before handing it over to her, and if there is anything more shecan think of that it needs we'll do that too. And now, welcome home tothe old b
arn! Mother, may I help you out?"
"But there isn't any barn any more," burst forth the irrepressibleElizabeth. "The barn's gone! It's just a house!"
And, sure enough, there stood a stately stone mansion on a wide greenterrace, where shrubs and small trees were grouped fittingly about,erasing all signs of the old pasture-land; and the old grassy inclineto the door now rolled away in velvety lawn on either side of a smoothcement walk bordered with vivid scarlet geraniums. Trailing vines andautumn flowers were blossoming in jars on the wide stone railing. Theold barn door had been replaced by glass which gave a glimpse ofstrange new rooms beyond, and the roof had broken forth in charmingcolonial dormer windows like a new French hat on a head that had wornthe same old poke bonnet for years. No wonder Doris didn't recognizethe dear old barn. It did seem as though a wizard had worked magicupon it. How was one to know that only a brief half-hour before theold gardener from the Graham estate set the last geranium in the rowalong the walk, and trailed the last vine over the stone wall; or thateven now the corps of men who had been hastily laying and patting theturf in place over the terrace were in hiding down in the basement,with their wheelbarrows and picks and spades, having beat a hastyretreat at the sound of the car coming, and were only waiting till theycould get away unobserved? For orders were orders, and the orders werethat the work was to be _done_ and every man out of sight by the timethey arrived. A bonus to every man if the orders were obeyed. That iswhat money and influence can do in a month!
In due time they got themselves out of that car in a sort of bewildereddaze and walked up the new cement path, feeling strangely likeintruders as they met the bright stare of the geraniums.
They walked the length of the new piazza in delight. They exclaimedand started and smiled and almost wept in one another's arms. Grahamstood and watched Shirley's happy face and was satisfied.
The first thing Doris did when she got inside the lovely glass door wasto start to run for her own little willow chair and her own little oldrag doll that had been left behind, and down she went on the slipperyfloor. And there, behold, the old barn floors too had disappearedunder a coating of simple matched hardwood flooring, oiled and polishedsmoothly, and Doris was not expecting it.
She got up quickly, half ashamed, and looked around laughing.
"I vas skating!" she declared with a ringing laugh. "I skated yitedown on mine nose."
Then she hurried more cautiously to the haven of her own chair, andwith her old doll hugged to her breast she reiterated over and over asif to reassure herself: "Mine! Doris! Mine! Doris!"
Words would fail to describe all they said about the wonderful rooms,the walls all shining in a soft rough-finish plaster, tinted creamy onthe upper half and gray below, and finished in dark chestnut trimmings;of the beautiful staircase and the wide bay window opening from thefirst landing like a little half-way room, with seats to rest upon. Itwas standing in this bay window that Graham first called Mrs.Hollister's attention to something strange and new outside behind thehouse. It was a long, low glass building with green things gleamingthrough its shining roof.
"There, mother," he said, coming up softly behind her. "There is yourplaything. You said you had always wanted a hot-house, so we made youone. It is heated from a coil in the furnace, and you can try all theexperiments with flowers you want to. We put in a few things to startwith, and you can get more at your leisure."
Mrs. Hollister gave one look, and then turned and put her arms aroundthe tall young man, reaching up on her tip-toes to do so, brought hishandsome face down to hers, and kissed him.
"My dear son!" she said. That was all, but he knew that she hadaccepted him and given him a loving place with her own children in herheart.
There were shoutings and runnings up stairs and down by first one andthen another. The bathrooms were discovered one by one, and then theyhad to all rush down into the basement by the new stairs to see the newlaundry and the new furnace, and the entrance to the hot-house; and thehot-house itself, with its wealth of bloom transplanted from the Grahamgreenhouses.
They almost forgot the chickens and the doves, and the garden was apast Eden not to be remembered till long hours afterward.
The sunset was dying away in the sky, and the stars were large and fewand piercing in the twilight night when Shirley and Sidney came walkingup the terrace arm in arm, and found Doris sitting in the doorwaycuddling her old rag doll and a new little gray kitten the farmer nextdoor had brought her, and singing an evening song to herself.
Shirley and Sidney turned and looked off at the sky where a rosy stainwas blending softly into the gray of evening.
"Do you remember the first night we stood here together?" Sidney saidin a low tone, as he drew her fingers within his own. "I loved youthen, Shirley, that first night----"
And then Doris's little shrill voice chimed above their murmurings:
"Oh, mine nice dear home! Mine kitty an' mine dolly! and mine piazza!and mine bafwoom wif a place to swim boats! an' mine fowers an' pittyhouse! No more barn! Barn _all dawn_! Never turn bat any moh! Oh,mine nice, pitty dear home!"
The Enchanted Barn Page 27