Homing

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Homing Page 16

by Grace Livingston Hill


  “Such sweet, quiet little village streets!” she said wistfully. “I do get so tired of the everlasting pavements in the city, especially on a hot day. I’ve never really lived in a city before, and sometimes I just long for some green grass, and a cow or two in the distance along a country road.”

  Audrey looked at her appreciatively.

  “I just knew you’d be like that!” she said. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “Oh, so am I!” said Jane. “But I’m afraid you’re going to be ashamed of me in my plain clothes. I didn’t have anything grand to bring along, even if I had had time to go to my room and get it. I just have a simple dimity dress I bought at lunchtime on the bargain counter.”

  “We don’t wear grand clothes down here,” said Audrey. “Nobody minds what we wear. Now, here is our station. Watch, and you’ll be able to see the ocean in a minute. We pass quite near the beach. There! There it is! Come on, we get out here. It’s just three blocks to our cottage on the beach. It will be more fun to walk than wait for the bus. That box isn’t heavy to carry, is it?”

  “Oh, no. Of course, let’s walk!” said Jane, feeling new life in the very air as she trod the platform and followed Audrey down the sidewalk to the street.

  “Oh, isn’t it wonderful here! It doesn’t seem like the same world we were in a little while ago!”

  And then they were facing the sea, and a lovely breeze was blowing into their faces. Jane could think of nothing but “heavenly breezes” to express it.

  Mrs. Havenner came to meet them as they ran up on the porch. She was a sweet-faced woman, but, Jane thought suddenly, another woman who had something familiar about her!

  “This is my mother, Jane,” said Audrey. “Mother, this is my friend, Jane Scarlett. Have we time for a little dip before dinner?”

  “Oh, yes, plenty, dear,” said the mother. “Your father telephoned that he couldn’t be out till seven thirty, so we’ll have dinner late. We’re very glad to welcome you, Jane, and I hope you’ll have a pleasant time with us. Audrey, I mended your bathing suit and it’s hanging in the bathhouse as usual. There’s one there for Jane, too, if she hasn’t brought hers.”

  So the girls were soon down on the beach running along like children, and laughing together as if they had known each other always. And strangely enough, Jane didn’t even know her hostess’s full name yet.

  Jane couldn’t swim of course. She had never had opportunity to learn, but she stepped into the water like a thoroughbred and thrilled to think she was in the great ocean again after all these years.

  At last Audrey announced it was time to go in and dress, and they ran dripping up the beach.

  “Goodness! Can you beat it?” exclaimed Audrey. “Mother has a caller on the side porch! Let’s go around the side of the house so we won’t have to converse. I can’t seem to recognize her. A blue dress. It doesn’t seem to be any of the locals. I hope she’s not staying to supper. I want to have you all to myself tonight. We’ve a lot of getting acquainted yet to do. We have to find out what we each like, and where we’ve been, and what we’ve read, and all that, so if she should be staying, I’ll just give you the high sign after supper and we’ll slip away and walk down the beach in the moonlight!”

  “Lovely!” said Jane appreciatively.

  A moment under the shower, a quick rub, a hasty slipping into attire, and then sliding up the back stairs to finish getting ready.

  Jane had a cozy room next to Audrey’s where she could watch the sea from her window. There were crisp new curtains blowing in the breeze, tied with braids of the lovely pink ribbons that Audrey had brought home. Audrey noticed that her mother had taken time to finish these for the stranger guest. Mother never forgot little dainty touches.

  Jane looked about on the sweet guest room with awe. It seemed to her that she was in a marvelous dream and must be going to wake up pretty soon and discover that it was all a dream. But she reflected that if there was a possibility of company, perhaps she had better put on her new dress and look her best.

  So with a hope that the dress would fit, after all her trouble, she put it on and was astonished that she looked so good in it. It fitted as if it had been made for her. With a great sigh of relief she got out her little new comb and attacked her hair. It was nearly dry, and the dampness had left it softly billowed into loose natural waves. She had always known it was somewhat curly, but it had never seemed worthwhile to take any pains with it. Now, however, she realized how much better it looked in loose waves, rather than brushed sternly back as she had been wearing it.

  “How lovely you look!” exclaimed Audrey as she tapped at the door to know if Jane was ready to go downstairs. “I’m sorry you felt you had to buy a new dress to come here, but it certainly is becoming. You look like a young rose about to bloom.”

  “Oh, if you get poetic about me,” said Jane, slightly breathless with pleasure, “I’ll not be fit for the button counter on Monday morning.”

  “You’re too nice anyway for the button counter, you know,” said Audrey. “But I’m certainly glad you were there or perhaps I would never have known you.”

  They went slowly downstairs hand in hand just as a little silver bell was ringing for supper and Audrey’s mother was coming in from the porch with the lady in blue.

  It had all happened while the girls were in the water. The next city train had come in and brought the blue lady, and she had arrived at the cottage via the bus from the station, wearing a small blue hat and veil and carrying a scanty coat and a diminutive overnight bag. The bag and the hat were both still reposing on the porch table outside, so that the lady in blue appeared to be a member of the household as she came in.

  Jane heard Audrey utter a soft dismal exclamation as she caught sight of the visitor’s face, and she felt that the guest was not as welcome as she might have been. Anyway, she was glad she had worn the pink dimity tonight if there were to be other guests.

  Evadne Laverock had stood Kent’s silence as long, if not longer, than she ever stood indifference and silence on the part of any of her close friends. She had arisen in her might that morning and determined to do something about it at once. She would find him in one of his haunts and demand immediate attention, and she flattered herself that she knew how to do that effectively. The only trouble was that she knew of but two haunts in which to search for him, his home and his office. He really was most unsophisticated in spite of all she had tried to teach him.

  So she arrayed herself in a charming blue outfit that her mirror told her was most fetching, and went herself to the office, very near to noon, which she argued, by all laws of any business she knew, ought to be closing time on Saturday afternoon. She paused an instant at the door before she went in to take in the additional name to the sign on the glass, “Sanderson, Edsel, and Havenner.” So! They had taken him into the firm! That was what he had been doing while she was away then, getting on in his business! Well, that wasn’t so bad! Money was a great necessity, and she could use plenty! So all the more she wished to find Kent.

  But when she entered and succeeded in getting belated attention from a very busy secretary long enough to ask for Kent, she was again informed that he was out of the city on business and would probably not be back to the office until Monday, or later.

  Baffled for the present, Evadne walked out of the office with a high head, puckering her brows and trying to decide what to do next. She wondered, should she go to his home? She found a telephone downstairs and called up the railroad station, discovering that the train she should have taken had left five minutes before. That was annoying. However, if Kent really was in New England he would scarcely get back before late in the afternoon, and maybe it was just as well. She certainly did not wish to spend the afternoon conversing with his mother, whom she had always felt was a stuffy old woman with terribly Victorian ideas. If she should decide to marry Kent she didn’t want to raise any false hopes in the old lady’s mind about being a companion of hers. They would never in the wor
ld hit it off together. So she decided on the five-thirty train. That was an express, and she could fill in the time shopping. Of course, she would need a few things if she was going down to the shore, and she’d been meaning to get one of the new blue leather overnight bags. Her own was getting shabby.

  So Evadne filled the intervening hours before her train with agreeable shopping, lunching about two o’clock with a young artist whom she’d dug out by telephone from his natural environment. Their choice was a modern little joint that went under the title of a tavern. After lunch she possessed herself of the overnight bag, with its elaborate fittings of crystal and turquoise enamel, and went searching for a luxurious set of pajamas in pale blue satin with real lace edges. Then she added a few other expensive trifles, including a Japanese hand-embroidered kimono—apple blossoms on black satin with a pale blue satin lining. The price of all these things was simply staggering, but she had found the charge coin belonging to her sister; it was easy enough to charge them all on her sister’s account and trust to the future for settling the bill with her when she should discover it. Evadne was clever about things of this sort. Of course, she counted herself honest in the long run, but what was a bill among sisters? Gloria would have done the same by her under like circumstances.

  So Evadne had taken the train following the one Audrey and Jane had traveled on, and reached the Havenner cottage just after the two had gone down to swim.

  When Kent’s mother told her that Kent might be back that evening, though she wasn’t sure, Evadne, without waiting for an invitation, exclaimed with an annoyed air: “Oh, what a bore! And I wanted him to take me somewhere this evening. Well, I suppose I’d better wait. He’ll probably come.”

  Mrs. Havenner, with a troubled look in her eyes, took the unexpected and utterly unwelcome guest up to Cousin Evalina’s room, breathing a relieved sigh that Evalina was away and not likely to return until the first of the week.

  Evadne made herself at home in the room, hung up a gorgeous backless evening dress she had purchased at the last minute, fluffed up her hair, and descended to the porch to wait for Kent, hoping his family would not disturb her.

  But Mrs. Havenner, reflecting that this was a heaven-sent opportunity for finding out whether she had been right in her worried estimate of this girl’s character, came out at once and settled down with a bit of sewing in her hand, to talk. So Evadne, realizing that it might be a good stunt to be in loving conversation with his mother when Kent arrived, searched her idle brain for topics that might offer possible contact with this antiquated woman, and succeeded in bringing forth some in which they had not a thought in common.

  They were laboring through a forced conversation when the dinner bell summoned them, and they arrived in the wide, cool sitting room from which the stairs ascended just as Audrey and Jane came down.

  Chapter 17

  Evadne eyed Jane. Who now was this little unsophisticated child with a face like a seraph and bearing like one to the manner born? Hadn’t she seen her before somewhere? Or had she? Was she a sister, or a cousin? No, she was sure Kent had no other sister than Audrey. It must be a cousin. Or perhaps just a neighbor.

  But though Evadne thought she had never seen Jane before, Jane knew suddenly that she had seen Evadne. She had seen her across the aisle in the store, charging the saleswoman of the trimmings counter with having picked up her purse and secreted it. The saleswoman was weeping and protesting her innocence, and Mr. Clark was doing his best to alternately soothe her and calm the customer’s fears, promising that a thorough search would be made, and sending for Mr. Windle himself—who happened to be out of town at the time. But Evadne had raved on, denouncing the whole store for her loss. Until suddenly the salesgirl from costume jewelry came rushing over excitedly with Evadne’s purse in her hand, asking: “Is this yours, madam? You laid it down under a box of clips, and I just found it.”

  Jane could not forget that selfish, empty little face as it had been wreathed in anger. Perhaps this very memory served to give that haughty little lift to her chin and that steady unsmiling look to her eyes as she acknowledged the introduction that the other girl didn’t even take the trouble to acknowledge. Evadne was trusting to her intuition that this girl wasn’t of any account whatever.

  Mr. Havenner came in as they were sitting down and was duly introduced to the two girls as “my father,” by Audrey. And so far Jane had not yet heard the family name.

  Mr. Havenner gave Jane a swift appraising look, and then his glance rested on Evadne with a scrutiny that few guests at his table received. And it was noticeable that his face did not light up as he studied the indifference of the girl. His wife could see that his former opinion of her remained, and she gave a little sad, suppressed breath of a sigh as if it coincided with her own opinion.

  Jane felt all this, almost as if another language were flashing these things around the table, though it was invisible to the guest herself. She wondered not a little who she was. It was evident that Audrey did not know her very well and that she was an almost stranger to them all. Yet it was also evident that the girl herself did not care in the least what they thought of her. She was only killing time, waiting for—what?—to happen.

  The answer came very soon. There were sounds of footsteps at the front door, and the new girl sprang into action.

  “Oh, would that be Kent?” she said. “Let me go to the door and surprise him. He’ll be so delighted to find me here!” And she jumped up from her chair and dashed into the living room without waiting for permission.

  Kent!

  But there must be other Kents in the world beside the one she knew, Jane reflected. She recalled the startled look that she had shot at Evadne without knowing she had done so. She sent a swift furtive glance about the table. The family were sitting perfectly still, not even looking at one another, each one engrossed in his plate. There was disapproval in their very attitude, but it was evident they were trying to be very discreet and not show their annoyance. There was an utter silence in the room, and the chirpy murmurs of the guest and the rumble of the man at the front door could be distinctly heard.

  Suddenly the mother roused to consciousness of the other guest.

  “I think it’s getting a little cooler, don’t you?” she asked Jane, with a charming smile that somehow made Jane feel as if she were not classed with that other forward guest in the living room.

  “Well, it certainly is cooler than where I’ve been all day,” said Jane with a lovely smile in answer to the mother’s smile.

  And then they could hear Evadne coming slowly back.

  “It’s a man for you, Audrey,” she said, dropping lazily into her chair again. “And he seems to be terribly possessive. He wants you at once!”

  “Oh?” said Audrey indifferently. “Did he happen to say what his name was?”

  Evadne looked a little surprised.

  “Oh, yes, something that began with a B. I forget what it was. It doesn’t matter. I was convinced that he knows you well and wants to see you at once.”

  Audrey laughed lightly.

  “How amusing!”

  And then without the slightest sign that she was answering the man’s demand she looked toward the maid.

  “Molly, please find out who is at the door, and give him a chair. Say I am engaged at present but will be out in a little while.”

  Evadne watched her in amazement.

  “I don’t think he’ll stand for that treatment,” she remarked amusedly. “He seemed to me to be the touch-and-go kind.”

  “Yes,” said Audrey, still amusedly. “Well, it’s a matter of indifference to me whether he touches or goes. I’ve sent him a chair, however.”

  Mr. Havenner barely suppressed a chuckle, and Jane kept her eyes upon her plate, struggling with her sense of humor.

  “You’re foolish,” advised Evadne. “He’s stunningly handsome.”

  “Really?” said Audrey. “Oh, but, you know, I see so many like that!”

  Then Molly appeare
d in the doorway.

  “It’s Mr. Bainbridge, Miss Audrey. He says he hasn’t a minute to spare and he wants to see you right away. He says it’s very important.”

  Audrey fixed a level gaze on the worried maid.

  “Tell Mr. Bainbridge I have a guest at dinner and I cannot come at present. Tell him not to wait if he is in a hurry.”

  “You must be pretty sure of him,” remarked Evadne.

  Audrey smiled sweetly.

  “Is that the way you treat the ones you’re pretty sure of?” she asked with a pleasant lifting of her lashes. And then she turned to Jane.

  “Are you going up to New England next week to the regatta?” she asked innocently.

  Jane stared at her an instant, and then her face broke into a wreath of impish smiles and she answered: “Well, I haven’t quite decided. Perhaps if you would be willing to go with me, I might go. We could have fun, couldn’t we?”

  “We certainly could. I know some of the men who own those yachts, and no end of people who are going.”

  “Let me see, what date is that?” asked Jane demurely.

  “The eighteenth,” said Mr. Havenner unexpectedly. There was a sedate twinkle in his eyes that his daughter knew was sign that he was extremely pleased at something.

  “Oh,” said Jane, “that might be all right. But I can’t say definitely until I get home to my calendar.”

  “Well I certainly do hope you can go. I think it would be swell, and if you decide you can, I’ll switch all my dates and go along.”

  “Well, I’ll do my best,” said Jane with a bright little air as if she had been used to making dates like this all her life.

  Audrey looked at her in wonder. What a clever girl she was to be able to put over a thing like this without even a hint. She felt a thrill of pleasure to think that the girl she had picked at sight was turning out to be even more than she had hoped.

  “All right,” she said, fairly sparkling with eagerness. “That settles it. If there’s the least possibility of this being pulled off I shall go down the first thing Monday morning and buy that perfectly darling dress I saw in the store today. It was in the French room and I know it must have been a scandalous price, but I’m determined to have it. Mother, it was one of those perfectly tailored smart things that look so simple it seems as if a three-year-old child could make them. But it is made of the most gorgeous material, you just know it must cost all kinds of prices.”

 

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