They boy eyed the flowers curiously.
“No, they don’t look like much,” he said. “You ought to have some fresh ones. But it’s getting late and they’ve mostly closed up for the night, I guess. If I had my flashlight I might be able to find some. Over there used to be a lot.”
He got up and took a few steps, stooping down and feeling around. He brought back a handful of more little drooping buds.
“They aren’t much better,” he said disappointedly. “The best time to get them is in the early morning. Who are you, anyway? Where do you live? I could come up here and get some for you. Maybe you’d like to come along.”
The girl gave him a quick grateful look but shook her head disappointedly.
“I couldn’t,” she said. “I’d love to, but I’m traveling with my uncle, and I have to be ready to leave when he wants to go. I guess it would be too far, and they would be uneasy if I went away off up here in the morning. They would expect me to get lost or something. No, it doesn’t matter. Perhaps some other spring I can come here again and get them. It’s probably very silly of me to care about it.”
“No,” said the boy, “it’s not silly! I had a mother, too, you know. Has yours gone and left you like mine?”
“Yes,” said the girl, “five years ago. But I’ve never forgotten her. She was dear and sweet. But look, how dark it’s getting! Is there a storm coming up? I’d better hurry. I might not be able to find my way back.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll go with you, of course. Where is it you have to go? Are you stopping in Arleth, or Chenango, or did you come over the hill? Down Afton way?”
“Oh,” said the girl, “I think the name is Sumter Hills, just outside of the town, a big white pleasant farmhouse. I came with my uncle, and we’re staying with the widow of an old school friend of his. He had to stop off to see her on some business. He went up to the city this morning to look after it for her. I stayed here to look up places Mother had told me about. But you don’t need to go back with me. I’m sure I can find my way back. I’d better go at once.”
“Sure!” said Revel. “But I’ll go with you. I know a shortcut across the fields. What’s the name of the person you’re stopping with?”
“She’s Mrs. Martin. Cousin Sarah, my uncle called her, but she’s not a real cousin. I never saw her before.”
“Oh, sure I know that party. Prim old bird, isn’t she? She got me in trouble once when I was crossing the stream back of her house. Reported me to the school superintendent and got me in wrong with my dad. I didn’t fish in her old stream. I was only crossing it when she saw me, but she tried to identify a fish I was carrying and we had all kinds of trouble. You’d better not tell her you’ve been in my company or she’ll haul you to court and have me tried for trying to kidnap you.”
The girl laughed.
“I guess you know who she is all right,” she said merrily. “I’m sure she would be like that. Though she’s been very kind to me. But she is terribly prim, and pretty set in her ways. I expect she’s awfully upset by this time that I haven’t gotten back yet. I told her I was just going to take a walk. That I wanted to see the old schoolhouse and the church and some of the places my mother used to tell me about. I didn’t tell her about the flowers on the hilltop. I thought she might think that was silly. Anyway, I didn’t want to bring it out in the open. It seemed too sacred to me.”
“You’re telling me!” rumbled the boy in a low tone. “Don’t tell her where you’ve been. Just say you got turned around and it took you longer to get home than you realized, see?”
“Yes,” said the girl. “But I do hope I’ll get there before dinner is ready. She went to a missionary meeting of some kind. She wanted me to go with her. She said there was going to be a woman there from China and it would be very interesting, but I told her that I wanted to walk around and think about my mother being here when she was a girl like me, and she finally let me off. But dear me, I don’t want to have to have it all over again! My uncle won’t be back till midnight. But she’s sure to send the farm man after me if I’m very late.”
“Well, he won’t find you. We’ll go another way. You came by the street, didn’t you? Till you got to the lane up the hill, and then took to the woods?”
“Yes. But how did you know?”
“Well, I sort of figured you did. You see, this is one of my hideouts when I feel sore or something.”
“I see,” said the girl, and her hand lingered comfortingly on the arm that was leading her.
“Now, we turn here,” said Revel. “You came up that lane to the left there, didn’t you? It turns into the highway a little this side of that big light you see in the tower in the valley. That’s the town hall in Afton.”
“Oh, yes, I remember passing that! And when I get there I turn right, don’t I? Oh, I’m sure I can find my way now. I don’t need to trouble you anymore.”
“Trouble, nothing! Do you suppose I’m gonna leave you wandering all over the country in the dark? You, a stranger! Not on yer life! But we’re going a quicker way than you came. Down here at the edge of the woods we can climb the fence, go across lots, and cut off a mile or so. See that light away off there to the right? Well, that’s on top of the Sumter Hills Bank, and your Mrs. Martin lives out that road, beyond. I’ll show you. It won’t take long. Come on!” said the boy, catching hold of her hand and guiding her down the hill, carefully avoiding the roots and hillocks in their path.
They didn’t talk as they hurried down; they were almost breathless, they were going so fast. But when they came to the fence at the end of the woods the boy paused.
“Get your breath!” he ordered, leaning against the fence.
“I’m all right,” said the girl. “I’m used to running a lot.”
“Yes, you’re some girl! But you’d better get your breath. You don’t want to barge in on old Sarah all puffed. And say, what’s your name? Where do you live when you’re home? You and I are friends, if you don’t mind, and I don’t want to lose sight of you entirely. You’re the only person I’ve seen since my mother died that seemed to understand.”
“Oh, thank you,” said the girl simply. “I couldn’t help knowing how I would feel if ever a thing like that happened to me. Why, my name is Margaret Weldon, and I’m going out to my aunt’s in California to spend the winter and go to school. The address is Linton Lane, Crystal Beach.”
The boy took out a pencil and scribbled the address in a small notebook.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll maybe keep in touch with you, if you don’t mind, but don’t tell old Sarah Martin or she’ll tell you what a young reprobate I am.”
“Oh,” said the girl, “I wouldn’t believe her anyway, if she did. But aren’t you going to tell me your name?”
“Oh, sure!” he said, laughing. “I’m Revel Radcliffe. Just Arleth’ll reach me.” Then he hesitated. “Ur—that is—if I stay here. I don’t much think I’m going to. But I’ll let you know if I move on somewhere.”
“Oh, yes! Do, please. I’d like to know how you come out!”
“Okay! I’ll letcha know.”
“Revel is an unusual name,” said the girl. “I like it.”
“Yeh! Mother’s name was Emily Revel.”
“How nice that you have her name! And aren’t any of her people living?”
“Yeh! Got an uncle in China or somewhere. Or maybe he’s over in the English army now. I don’t know. He doesn’t write to us. An’ I’ve got a grandfather!”
“Oh! A grandfather! How nice! Why don’t you go and talk it over with him? Wouldn’t he give you good advice on your problems?”
The boy was silent for a moment, staring at the girl in the gathering twilight.
“That’s an idea!” he said slowly. “I might. I’ll havta think it over. You see, my dad never has anything to do with the Revels. I’ve lately got in the habit of not thinking of Grandfather as a part of the family. Dad doesn’t like him. It’s some old grudge, I guess. Thanks for the sug
gestion, though. Maybe there’s something in it. It might be a place to go, if he’s still there. Now! Have you got your breath? All set? Well, let’s go! Take hold of my hand. I know the smooth places.”
His firm young hand caught the girl’s hand warmly, and they started across the close-clipped turf where the cows had been carefully mowing the new little grass blades all day long.
Swiftly and silently they sped over the meadow, hearing the distant sounds of the night, the whirr of a siren off in the distance where the sky shadowed forth a flush of brilliant flame, the sound of cars along the highway not far off, the clock on the town hall in Afton striking.
“Mercy! Is it as late as that?” the girl exclaimed. “I certainly am in bad now.”
“Sorry!” said Revel. “It was all my fault. I knew it was dinnertime when I left my house. Dad sent me up to get cleaned up for dinner, and I just streaked it out the back door and cut up to my woods. I couldn’t see sitting at the table across from Dad and having him watch every bite I took, and how glum I looked. He would have talked about it, bawled me out, tried to make me smile and like what he told me, and I couldn’t see that. I never could eat when I was upset.”
“Why, I’m that way, too,” said Margaret. “Well, I’m just as sorry as I can be for you, but I’m positive God will work out some way for you, and you won’t need to be sorrowful all your life. I wish this was my own home I’m going to, and I’d ask you in to eat with me, but you might not care to go to Mrs. Martin’s table.”
“Not on your life!” said Revel fervently. “I’ll take you in if you’re scared to go, and help you explain, but I couldn’t eat a bite in that old rhinoceros’s house. Say, I believe that’s her jalopy coming now. Where did she go? Chenango? Because that old car is coming down the Chenango dirt road. See the old-style high back? Nothing streamlined about that lady. Say, if we hurry across the next meadow, I believe we can beat her to it. Here, creep under this rail. I’ll lift this end. Now, let’s go!”
They went like two lithe young shadows across the dusky meadow and arrived at the highway before the old jalopy had barely turned the corner into the main road.
“Now,” he said, “streak it across and slide into those bushes. Then you can get into the house before she turns in the drive. And say, don’t let her know you’ve just got in, if you can help it. Anyhow, just laugh it off. I’m all kinds of sorry I got you into this. It’s all my fault. And say, I’m mighty grateful! Maybe I won’t see you anymore, but—this is to remember me by—”And suddenly he came quite close in the shadow of the tall osage orange bushes that hedged the next meadow, laid his lips shyly, awkwardly on hers, and kissed her tenderly, as if it were something very sacred he was doing.
“Now, go! Quick! She’s coming!”
He wrung her hand fervently and pushed her forward.
But the girl drew back and turned toward him.
“Listen, Revel,” she said in a low, vibrant tone, her lips close to his ear, “you will talk to God about your trouble before you do anything, won’t you? And—I won’t forget to pray.”
Then she was off like a streak in the darkness, disappearing among the bushes across the road, with just the sight of a small white hand waving farewell.
He watched till he saw her run lightly up the front steps, into the open front door, and give just one glance back across her shoulder into the darkness.
Then the rambling old Martin car came rattling down the road and turned in the drive, hurriedly, as if the woman driving was almost out of breath with worry. She drew up in front of the steps.
“Is that you, Margaret?” she called in the unreserved voice of the habitual country dweller, who isn’t afraid that the neighbors can hear her.
“Yes, Mrs. Martin.” Revel heard the girl’s voice, clear and sweet. The same gentle voice that had only a few minutes ago been talking so comfortingly to him.
“Well, I’m just ashamed as I can be. I got held up, and I couldn’t help it. There were two women came over from Chenango way, and they had expected their cousin to meet them at the meeting and take them home, but she wasn’t there, and when they telephoned to see where she was, the one who drives had a sick baby and couldn’t come, so I had to offer to take them home. Wasn’t that awful? And when I got to Chenango I found the other woman lived five miles beyond Chenango, and I had to take her home. There just wasn’t anything else to do, you know. I’ve been doing some wild driving all the way back. I was afraid you’d be half starved, you poor child! Come on in, and let’s have supper right away. I declare, I don’t know when I’ve been so upset!”
Revel stood there in the shelter of the bushes, listening for a minute or two. He heard the hired man coming briskly across the gravel drive to get the car and drive it back to the garage. He heard Margaret Weldon’s light footsteps running upstairs. He saw a light spring up in the front room, and the girl standing before the bureau, brushing her hair, patting the two little rose-colored bows that held it. Then the light went out, and he heard her running down the stairs again as a little silver bell tinkled a call. He glanced down a dimly lighted hall and could just see a table set for dinner. He saw the girl take her place at one side. Then Susie the maid came and closed the door, and he couldn’t see Margaret anymore. So he turned and made his way slowly down the road, wondering what he had better do now.
Chapter 2
After Mrs. Martin had muttered through a perfunctory grace at the table, she looked up brightly at her young guest as she began to serve the chicken from the large willowware platter that Susie had set before her.
“Well, my dear, what kind of time did you have? Weren’t you bored to death? I do wish you had gone with me. The woman from China was most inspiring. I’m sure you would have enjoyed her. But I spent a good deal of my time worrying about you, all alone, trailing around strange country roads. Did you find the schoolhouse your mother used to attend? I was thinking afterward that I was afraid I didn’t make my directions clear, I was really so upset to have to go off and leave you alone that way.”
“Oh, but I had a beautiful time, Mrs. Martin. Yes, I found the school all right and walked in one of the halls and peeked in a classroom. There was no one, of course, who would have known where Mother used to sit. But it was all right. I saw the building. And then I saw the church and looked in the door there, trying to think of Mother sitting in one of those pews.”
“You dear child! That was sweet of you to care so much for your mother’s childhood! And what did you do after that?”
“Oh, I took a walk. Mother had described some of the places where she used to go for picnics, and I thought I recognized a lane that led to a hill. I stopped awhile by the way and watched two birds building a nest. And there was a little red chipmunk up on a branch chattering at me, just as if he were scolding me. It was very funny. You know, Mrs. Martin, I’ve been cooped up in the city for two whole years now, and it’s wonderful to get out in the open and watch the birds and the trees and the clouds. It made me glad all through.”
“Oh, really, my dear? Well, that’s very nice. But I imagine if you were cooped up in the country for two whole years, you’d be very glad to get a chance to hear a wonderful lady from China tell of what is going on there.”
“Yes, Mrs. Martin. Perhaps I would. And I’m sorry if I disappointed you, but you know it was the one thing I wanted to come this way for, that I might see the places where my mother used to be. But I’m truly sorry if it upset your plans.”
“Oh, that’s quite all right, my dear, if you like that sort of thing. One must expect young people to have their own opinions about what they want to see and do. But didn’t you get very tired on such a long walk? You went so far. I don’t see why you didn’t lose your way.”
“Oh, I did get a little turned around, and I was afraid I might keep your dinner waiting. But I asked a nice boy I happened to meet, and he showed me the way back.”
“H’m!” said Mrs. Martin placidly. “That must have been little Joey Wetherby.
He’s always so kind and gentle. About ten years old, was he, with freckles and a pug nose? Rides a bicycle? I’ve heard of more kind acts that child has done for people, especially strangers. He’s a Boy Scout, you know, and proud of it. Was that near home here?”
“No,” said the girl evasively, “it was farther away, up near the woods.”
“Woods!” said Mrs. Martin. “And getting dark! Oh, no, that couldn’t have been Joey. He wouldn’t have been allowed to go up to the woods near dark. He’s only a child, you know, and there aren’t any woods near his home.”
“This boy was not a child,” said Margaret thoughtfully. “He was almost a young man. He looked like a high school student and was quite good-looking.”
“My dear!” said the shocked voice of the lady. “But you shouldn’t have asked a strange young man of that age. Surely if you had kept on, you would have come to a nice farmhouse where it would be perfectly respectable for you to ask the way.”
“Oh, this boy was very polite, Mrs. Martin. He was a perfect gentleman. And I thought it was important to get back quickly before the darkness really came. By the way, Mrs. Martin, when is my uncle returning? Tonight, or in the morning?”
“Oh, he’ll be on the midnight train, he said. I’m sending the man down to the station in Arleth to meet him. But—this young man you met, you don’t know what his name was, I suppose.”
“Why, yes,” said Margaret in a clear, matter-of-fact tone. “He said his name was Radcliffe.”
“Not Radcliffe!” exclaimed the lady horrified. “My dear! I shouldn’t have gone off and left you! How wonderful that you got safely home! My dear, if that was Hiram Radcliffe, you don’t know what you’ve escaped. My child, that boy is a menace! He came on my premises once and fished, when there is a perfectly plain sign up warning people that it’s private property—”
Suddenly Margaret remembered how Revel had told her of the fish this lady was trying to “identify,” and a wave of her quick sense of humor came over her and almost choked her. She took a swallow of water and smothered her laughter in her napkin, hoping the subject would change. But Mrs. Martin was not easily turned aside from any object she was pursuing.
The Girl of the Woods Page 2