GI Brides

by Grace Livingston Hill

  Her mind was turning this subject over and over while she tried to be half listening to Dan and wondering what she could say to him that would make him understand she meant what she said and that she was not available this evening for anything but her own plans.

  “Bly, you’re not listening! I say I’m coming right over there and get you. We’ll go somewhere and get dinner, and then take in the first show.”

  Blythe roused.

  “No!” she said. “Positively no! I simply can’t. I thought I sent you word in plenty of time for you to find someone else to go with you.”

  “No, Blythe, you don’t mean that! You know you don’t want me to take someone else.”

  “Why, yes, I certainly do, Dan,” she said sweetly. “I’m sure you can find somebody.”

  The altercation lasted some minutes, and Blythe drew a breath of relief when Dan finally grew angry and hung up the receiver with a slam, furious because she wouldn’t tell him where she was going or what engagement she had that she would not break for him.

  Annoyed beyond measure at the time he had kept the telephone occupied, Blythe tried to get back her happy serenity, but try as she would, she was worried lest Dan had made her miss the few treasured words she hoped to hear from Charlie. Of course, he hadn’t been sure he would be able to call, and this was probably but the beginning of a long weary hopeful waiting. But she put the thought from her. She must not allow her mind to dwell on the possibility of future unhappiness, not on this first day of her new joy. Sorrow and anxiety might come, but she would not dwell on them ahead of time. And this was a day that must be remembered as having been all joy.

  It was an anxious evening for Blythe. She was beginning to worry lest Charlie hadn’t been able to telephone at all, and perhaps there wouldn’t be any way she could hear his voice again, ever! She was also beginning to be afraid the call might come so late that her mother and father would arrive in the midst of it, and there would be questions perhaps, and she might have to explain at once, so that the beauty of Charlie’s words might become dimmed before she could savor them fully.

  But there she was, being silly and hysterical again! Why couldn’t she be sensible? This whole thing was something that had come to her right out of the blue as it were, nothing she had solicited, nothing that any act of hers had brought about, and if it was something sent to her, she ought to be able to trust, and not get excited about it.

  It was not until a little after ten that the call did come, and she tried to go to it calmly, so she would not be out of breath to talk.

  His voice was very clear in the quiet room.

  “Is that you, Blythe?”

  “Oh yes, Charlie!” she said joyously. “It is you at last!”

  “Yes, beloved,” he said. “Are you alone?”

  “Yes, I’m alone, and so glad to hear your voice!”

  “My precious girl! How wonderful to hear your voice!”

  “I was afraid you couldn’t make it,” she breathed.

  “Yes,” said the young man, “our train was late and we had to make up time. New orders. And now, I’ve only a few minutes to talk, so we mustn’t waste time. But I’ve written you a letter, and you may get it in a day or two. It has to go through the regular routine now of course, I think, and you won’t know where I am nor where I’m going. But don’t mind about that. I just want to say again that I love you. I love you more than I ever dreamed I could love anyone. You opened the way into a heaven of delight when you told me you loved me. I hadn’t counted on that. I hadn’t thought you ever noticed me. I know I’m going to spend a lot of time rejoicing in your words, in the memory of you in my arms, your face against mine, your lips on mine. It is a greater joy that I ever had hoped could be mine. Even though it must likely be a brief joy, since I have a rendezvous with death.”

  “Oh Charlie! Don’t say that!”

  “Well, it’s true, beloved! You know I told you if it had not been for that I would never have presumed to tell you what I did.” He spoke gravely.

  “Well, I’m glad that anything made you tell me,” said Blythe happily. “But oh, I pray that it may only be a brief absence and that you will soon come back to me.”

  “I shall be glad of your prayers, but don’t be arbitrary about them. My mother used to say that God must have His way, and it was of no use to try to force any other. I believe God knows what He is doing, don’t you? And I’ve committed myself to this thing, you know. I think it is right. I know it is patriotic.”

  “Yes, I know,” sighed Blythe, “but oh, don’t take it for granted that this is going to be the end!”

  “No,” said the young man’s voice, with a clear ring to it, “we won’t take anything for granted now, but just our love. Shall it be that way, beloved?”

  “Oh yes!” said the girl breathlessly. “And I like the way you say ‘beloved.’ I shall remember your voice saying it, always—till you come again.”

  “That’s very precious of you to say. Yes, till I come again—somewhere, sometime. For I do believe there’ll be a ‘somewhere’ of meeting, don’t you? Don’t you? No matter what happens?”

  “Yes, of course,” said Blythe. “But—I’ll believe—you will come back. Oh, Charlie! Why didn’t we know each other better before? How much time we’ve lost out of our childhood days!”

  “Not enough to keep us from loving, my dear!” His voice was very tender. “Please don’t mourn over that or anything else. It is enough for me for the present that I can carry your love with me, your permission to receive my love. You are not angry that I told you. That gives me great joy and strength for my mission. It is more than I have ever dared to ask of life. Will you pray for me that I may be brave as I go forth to my duty? Forget that it is terrible, and think of it as something that must be victorious. Will you do that?”

  “Oh yes, dear. Of course.”

  “Then I shall go armed with courage, feeling that whether I live or die, I shall conquer. And now, I’ve only a few seconds left to talk, and how can I possibly say all that I have in my heart in that time? But I want you to understand that if you hear nothing from me, perhaps for a long time, or even perhaps never, still I have loved you with all my heart. They have not told me what are to be our circumstances or location, but I feel that communication with our home world may hereafter be greatly restricted, certainly limited, possibly entirely forbidden or impossible, and you will not let yourself grieve about that, will you? You will say in your heart it is all right. You will know I have not forgotten, nor changed. You will remember that?”

  “I will remember!” Blythe breathed the words softly, choking back the sobs that kept rising in her throat.

  “Dear girl! It was selfish of me to do this to you, and make you unhappy, even for a day. I should have kept my love to myself.”

  “No, no, don’t say that! Please don’t!” she pleaded. “Your love is the greatest thing that ever came into my life. I am glad, glad that you told me! I shall be glad always!”

  “You dear!” he breathed softly. “You wonderful, beautiful dear!”

  There was silence for an instant, and then suddenly a far call, and the young man’s voice alert, almost agonized, “They are calling me. I have to go! Good-bye, my precious girl. God keep you!”

  And then as he hung up she could hear his voice answering to the call. “Coming!”

  Chapter 5

  For a brief interval she stood still before the instrument, staring hungrily into it, hoping against hope that there would yet be perhaps one more word from her beloved. And then she was suddenly aware of her mother standing in the doorway watching her, astonished.

  “Why, my dear!” said the mother. “How did it happen that you came home so early? Dan told me you would probably be late!”

  And suddenly, the long wait of the evening with its precious thrilling climax was swept away, as if it had all been a dream, and she was back in her everyday life again, with the usual things and people surrounding her.

  “Oh,
” she said dazedly. “Oh, why no, Mother, I didn’t go.”

  “You didn’t go? But, my dear, I told him I was sure you would be delighted. I am afraid you must have been very rude, for he was quite insistent about it, and I understood him to say that you had known about this for some time. Didn’t I make you understand that I had promised you would call him? It certainly was very rude of you if you did not.”

  “But I did, Mother. I called him right away after you went, and left word for him that I couldn’t go tonight. I left word with their butler, and then Dan called up himself later and I explained that I couldn’t go tonight. I had something else to do that was important.”

  “Important?” said her mother, eyeing her bewilderedly. “What was it, dear? I don’t understand. I thought this was your free evening. I told him that.”

  “Yes, Mother, but this was something that came up that you didn’t know about. I had promised to be at home all the evening for a phone call.”

  “A phone call! Why, who was calling that you felt was important enough to make you miss going out with Dan? When you had practically promised him you would go with him?”

  Blythe’s face flushed.

  “But I hadn’t promised Dan, Mother. He had never made a definite date for this, and he can’t expect me to dance attendance every time he speaks. I have a few other friends and interests.”

  “Oh,” said her mother significantly. “I thought you considered Dan’s wishes would be paramount. I thought you were especially fond of him.”

  “Oh, not especially fond, Mother. He’s just a good friend. But I wasn’t rude to him, really, Mother. I left word I couldn’t go tonight, and when he called up I tried to explain to him that something had come up that I felt I ought to do.”

  “But who was this person who presumed to ask you to stay at home all the evening? Couldn’t you have called him up and told him that you found you could not be here?”

  “No, Mother. I had no way to reach him till he called. He was a soldier friend who was leaving—for the front—and he had asked if he might call me to say good-bye when he left. I said yes, I would be at home all the evening.”

  “But a soldier boy, just one of those soldiers at the canteen? Strange boys you don’t know very well? It couldn’t possibly have made any difference with him. I think, Blythe, that sometimes you confuse your obligations and let trifles hinder more important things. In fact, I’ve been a good deal worried at the number of hours you are spending in that social service down there at the canteen. Of course I want you to be patriotic and all that, but you are just sticking in the house and working hard almost every minute of your life, and it is time you had a little brightness and fun, or you will wither up and get to be old before your time.”

  “Oh, Mother!” protested the girl. “I—you—you don’t understand. This was a special soldier, going into danger, and his mother had died. He wanted somebody to say good-bye to before he went.”

  “Oh, yes,” said her mother a bit sadly. “They’re all going into danger, of course, and of course we all feel sorry for them. But you, Blythe, can’t take every one of those soldier boys on your heart and feel sorry for them. There are plenty of people over there at the center, good, motherly women, who would be glad to give a boy good advice before he leaves for the front. That’s what they are there for. He didn’t need to pick out a young girl and hold her up for an evening just to say good-bye. Those boys haven’t always got good sense. I have no patience with them. It is all right, of course, for you to play games with them and make them have a cheerful time, but I do think you ought to hold your home time free for your own friends. Blythe, I’m really worried about you. I don’t want you to go to extremes in anything, and you know these boys in their uniforms may be very attractive and all that, but when they get across the water they’ll forget all about the girl that sacrificed what she wanted to do just to humor them.”

  But Mother, it wasn’t like that! I didn’t want to go with Dan tonight. I really didn’t. I was tired and wanted to stay at home and get caught up with several things, and I had some letters to write. You see—”

  Blythe hesitated and looked troubled. She was almost on the verge of telling her mother all about Charlie Montgomery, only somehow this seemed no time to bring out that precious experience and tell it in every detail. Her mother was in no mood to sympathize and understand just now. She was evidently too much annoyed about her failing Dan Seavers.

  “You see,” said Mrs. Bonniwell, “I had a long talk today with Mrs. Seavers. She is so pleased that you are going so intimately with Dan. She says it has made her feel so safe and happy about him, so content that he is in good company and not getting in with a wild set. She has been greatly troubled about a girl who sings at one of the nightclubs, in whom he has been interested, and she was so relieved when he took to asking you to go places. I do think you ought to consider other people as well as those young boys in the soldiers’ canteen. You know it would be really worthwhile to help a young man like Dan Seavers. A young man in his position would have a great many temptations, and a young girl with right principles can often strengthen her young men friends by her friendship and be doing something really worthwhile. You know Dan is in line for an officer’s commission, and what he is will be an influence on all the soldiers under him. If I were you I would consider how wonderful it would be to help anchor Dan to the right kind of people.”

  “But Mother, that’s just it. I don’t like the kind of men and girls that come around Dan. More and more it is getting so that I feel uncomfortable in his company. I don’t think you would like them either, Mother, if you could be with us sometimes.”

  “Well, that’s unfortunate, but don’t you think a good girl can usually dominate a situation wherever she is and show them how much better a right-minded girl is than one who is loud and coarse and common?”

  Blythe looked troubled.

  “No, Mother, not always. I used to think so, but lately I’ve been places with Dan where I felt as if I were being soiled and trampled underfoot.”

  “Blythe!” said her mother. “You don’t mean Dan would allow anybody to be rude to you while you were in his company?”

  “I don’t think Dan feels the difference. He doesn’t understand why I don’t enjoy going places with people like that.”

  “Oh, my dear! I’m sorry to hear that. But don’t you think you might be able to win him away from that kind of people?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mother,” said the troubled Blythe sadly, thinking in her heart that there were going to be a lot of questions to settle that she had not thought of yet. How was she going to make her mother understand? Oh, this was something she had to think out before she talked any more about it, even with her mother. But for the present her inmost heart told her that she had no taste nor interest in going anywhere with Dan or any other young man, now that she knew of Charlie’s love, and while he was off engaged in a terrible undertaking for the cause of freedom. Oh, of course, she would have to go about as usual and be pleasant and interested in life as it had to be lived here on this side of the world, but good times were not the chief aim of her existence anymore. Something had happened to her since Charlie Montgomery had told her of his love for her and the great undertaking to which his life was pledged. To a large extent that undertaking must be hers, too, hers for interest and prayers. Hers to place first in the list of daily plans. Hers to cherish as the greatest possible undertaking. Because she and Charlie were one in heart now, they must be one in purpose, too. And if, in the working out of that purpose, it came about that Charlie had to die to accomplish it, well then, it was her part to die, too, to a lot of interests that had up to this point been a part of her life.

  But she couldn’t tell all this to her mother now. Mother would protest and tell her she was crazy. Mother didn’t know what it was to love someone who was going out to die. She would say Blythe was morbid. She would turn heaven and earth to get her interested in the world and get her out among th
e young people again, make her stop her delightful work among the nursery babies, and maybe make her stop even the Red Cross classes. Mother would tell people that Blythe hadn’t seemed well lately and she felt her daughter needed a rest, maybe insist upon her going away somewhere, to the shore or the mountains or down to Florida. There was nothing in life that Blythe wanted to do less than to go away from the home where Charlie would write if he had any opportunity to write at all. Oh, what should she do?

  Of course, if worst came to worst, she could tell her mother the whole story, tell of Charlie’s coming and how she had always admired him. But could she make Mother understand now, after all this excitement? Evidently her mother was thoroughly on Dan’s mother’s side and willing to have Dan take her out anywhere, just so that his mother’s worries might be appeased. But Mother just did not understand, and how could Blythe make her see it in the right way? Mother had always been so sane and reasonable. She wouldn’t for a moment approve of things Dan did and said when he was out among that crowd whose company he seemed to enjoy so much. Was it possible that Dan could be turned back to a more refined crowd? Was it really right that she should try to help him in this way? How the thought of it irked her, in the light of the wonderful love of a real man!

  Well, she would have to think this out, try to find out what her duty was, and of course if it was duty, she must do it. But it need have nothing to do with the new joy that had come into her life. That was something secure, that was hers. So far, hers in secret, but hers, and it was something that nothing, nobody could ever take away from her. Not even death, because it was that rendezvous with death that had set his heart free to come to her and tell her of his love. Oh, death could be cruel, cruel, and the fear of death could bring agony—the death of a beloved one! But death with all its stings could not take her beloved’s love away from her. Somehow that thought bore her along over the immediate present with its problems and bravely into the dim future that loomed ahead with so many terrible possibilities. She must sit down and think this thing all through and see what was the right thing to do. Oh, if she only had somebody to talk it over with.