It was very still out there on the broad piazza where they were sitting. The great pine trees down by the white gate were whispering and nodding to one another about it, the birds interpolating a sharp, sweet note of persuasion now and again, and a snappy little chipmunk chattering antagonistically to represent the other side of the family.
It was a very precious picture, those two sitting there, heaven and earth holding their breath about the great decision. There was the humble offering of the dear old man whose latter years had taken their joy from saving this gift that he had not been sure might ever be given, and there was the lad with the light of youth and wonder in his eyes.
And there was something else. Revel got quietly up and went and knelt beside his grandfather’s chair.
“Grand,” he said, and his voice was husky with feeling, “can I ever thank you enough for this wonderful thought of me, before ever I was old enough to know you, while I was still carelessly going through my days without forethought or knowledge! Oh, I thank you, Grand! Yes, of course I’ll take it, if it is not robbing you, and try to be worthy of the education you have planned for me.”
He was still a minute, and then, lifting his head and looking earnestly into the old man’s eyes, he said, “I guess you understand, Grand, how I’ve felt about my father. I don’t think he cares about me except to have me do what people will think is the right thing for a son of his to do. But I’d do what he wanted me to if I thought it was right, even if I hated it. I’d have even stayed there and endured having another person come to take Mother’s place, if I thought it was right, though I was very bitter about it. But Mother taught me that, and I can’t go back on her.”
He was still a minute, with the old hand on his head, and then he went on again.
“But, Grand, there’s something else, something I haven’t told you. I went into the woods that night Dad told me about getting married. I was there alone. It was almost dark. I thought nobody would see me, and I was bawling. And then I heard a step. I looked up, and there was a girl! A strange girl I didn’t know! She apologized and was going away but asked if there was anything she could do for me, and I, like a fool, blurted out what was the matter. She was swell. She told me not to worry, she would forget it, and she told me to tell God about my trouble. Not to do anything till I had told Him. So that night when I went home, I knelt down and asked God to show me what to do. And—the next day, your letter came! Then I knew God had made a way for me. And—Grand—I guess maybe He’s keeping on making a way. Thanks awfully, Grand. Of course I’ll take your gift. It was swell of you to plan for me.”
And then, after a minute, with his face against the older hand he added, “I have a hunch my mother is glad now.”
There were tears on the old man’s face, like dewdrops in the sunshine, as he smiled, and something like a natural surge of love went through the boy’s heart. A minute later, he spoke again.
“Boy! I’ve got a family at last!”
That afternoon Grand took a long nap, with the nurse keeping it very still all about, so that even the birds and the katydids put the mute on their conversation. For Revel was taking a long walk over to Linwood College. He was carrying a note that Grand had written, introducing him, and he went to find out just what entrance requirements he would have to have.
But the old man was doing more than napping while he was gone. He was lying on his bed, it is true, and his eyes were closed. His pulse was going steadily, for the nurse tested it after he had been still for a little while. But Grand was praying for his boy, thanking God that Revel had turned out to be what he was.
Revel was fortunate to find the president and several of the professors at leisure, and he had a long talk with each. When he walked back with the promise of sunset in the sky, the thrushes were spilling their evening songs about among the treetops, and there seemed to be joy in the air. Revel looked up to the glory of the rosy sky and smiled. And suddenly he thought of Margaret, and wished she were there that he might tell her all the professors had said and how the old president told him that he looked like his mother, that that was the nicest thing he knew to say.
Oh, dear God, don’t let my father barge in and spoil all this happiness, please! he prayed quietly in his heart.
He came in with bird songs all about his head. The old man watched him from the big chair on the piazza where the nurse had established him in time to watch his grandson arriving down the road.
“It’s all right, isn’t it, boy?” said the eager old voice as Revel came up the steps.
“Yes, Grand, it’s all okay. Say, but they’re a fine lot of people. Yes, Dr. Anderson was there, and his brother, Will Anderson, and they were rare. Then he brought Professor Gunnison and Professor Fairley, and I like them, too. Yes, they sat me down and asked me a lot of questions, a regular quiz it was. First they wanted to know how far I’d gone in math and Latin and all that stuff, you know, and what my standing was. And when they heard I was exempt in all of my studies, I could see they were really interested. They said they would write the high school and see whether I could be given a diploma, but in any case they require entrance exams, and they feel it would all be okay. They lifted their shaggy eyebrows and nodded at one another, and Doc Anderson said to his brother, ‘He’s like his mother, isn’t he?’ Boy! That made me feel good!”
The grandfather smiled happily. It was what he had dreamed and hoped, a little, yet had feared would never happen.
And presently the watching nurse, who had a great deal of romantic common sense, arrived with a tray with supper for two, and set it out on the porch table between their two chairs, which she had made sure were in place before Revel had even returned.
So they had a beautiful little supper there, with the thrushes spilling their liquid notes all about them, the evening stealing softly down, and a throaty cricket putting in a cheerful note now and then. The end of a very happy day for Revel.
That night he wrote a letter to his father, for he still was fearful that something might stop his happy prospect. His father would, of course, be very angry at having his plans frustrated, would likely resent anything his grandfather was doing for him. In fact, his grandfather had told him not to say anything about the college fund, merely to tell his father he had made arrangements for his tuition and his grandfather was helping him out a little, what he couldn’t do himself. Somehow the old man, in view of past experiences with his son-in-law, was pretty sure that Revel’s father would do his best to get the boy away from his influence if he suspected that he had presumed to arrange as he had about his education. Mr. Revel was a wise old man, and a patient one, and he would not encourage the fear and distrust already in the boy’s heart for his father, much as it might have been justified.
So Revel wrote.
Dad:
I’ve been having a talk with the doctor, and it seems important that I should remain here, at least for the present. Grand is better, able to sit up a little. Still has to be very careful. He seems very happy at having me here.
Dad, I’m all kinds of sorry to disappoint you in your plans for my college, but it seems right that I should stay here for a while at least. So this afternoon I walked over to Linwood College and arranged to take my entrance examinations tomorrow. I like the president, and the professors like me, and as it is an accredited college, I am sure it will do for the present. Later, if it seems best, I can of course be transferred elsewhere. But, Dad, this won’t cost you anything. I have arranged to take care of all this myself, and Grand is helping me out. I am to board with him of course, and the college is near enough so that I can walk in pleasant weather, and there is a bus nearby.
Please present my apologies to your wife for not being home when she came, but I am sure she will agree with me that I have done the right thing and that you will both be happier for it.
Hoping you will agree,
Your son
After that letter was dispatched Revel felt like one who has burned his bridges behind him, and w
ondered what might be coming next.
For several days he waited, watching every mail breathlessly, but went about with his plans, nevertheless. He took his examinations without hanging over him the possibility of a father barging angrily in to question his teachers minutely. He realized that he had all through the years been nervous about anything that was connected with marks and records that would be sent home. And now that he had actually taken the initiative and made decisions of his own, he felt so much more free, and at ease. It was probably a matter of nerves, and he ought to have controlled them better in the past, of course, and not have allowed himself so to dread the outbreaks of anger and questionings that were sure to come if ever there was a mark that was less than perfect. At least, that was what his mother used to tell him.
One day President Anderson came over in his car to call on Mr. Revel, who was an old friend of his. He took him and his grandson out for a ride, and Revel began to feel quite as if he belonged to the new future that he was trying to work out for himself.
Finally, at his grandfather’s suggestion, Revel wrote to his father again. The letter was brief and to the point.
Dad: I thought I should let you know that I passed all my examinations and am entered as a student in Linwood College.
As ever,
Your son.
And still it was several days before any response came. But when it came it was just what might have been expected.
Am not surprised at your headstrong decision. Have it your own way. But let me warn you that when you fail, and come crawling back to be helped out, you will find no help. You are on your own, absolutely.
Now take the consequences.
Surprisingly, when Revel read this heartless letter, tears sprang stinging into his eyes. Of course he had not done what his father told him to do, and he had not expected sympathy nor interest, and yet, perhaps he had unconsciously been looking for a little commendation at least. Some fathers would have been proud at what their sons had done, even if it wasn’t their own choice. Revel took the letter and showed it to his grandfather. The old man read and then looked up with a sympathetic smile as he said, “Well, there’s your challenge, boy. Now do your best.”
Chapter 12
It was an all-day meeting of the Ladies’ Aid in the Sumter Hills Trinity Church, and Sarah Martin was parceling out the sewing to be done. They were making an outfit for a poor family whose father had recently been killed in a mine disaster. Mrs. Martin was also largely director of conversation.
“There, Mrs. Apsley, you better take this dress and sew up the seams. I know that seam where the goods had to be pieced in the front breadth don’t quite match the plaids, but it can’t be helped. That’s all the goods there was in that piece, and it had to do. Besides, a mine-child wouldn’t likely mind that. Anyway, she ought to be glad to get something to cover her. Frizzie Cutler, you oughtta reinforce those buttonholes you’re making in that petticoat. A child’ll tear ’em out in no time, and I don’t want it to get out that Sumter Church doesn’t do reliable work. You know those people that get something for nothing are awfully critical. We have to be careful, for we have the best reputation for sewing in the county.”
“Say, Mrs. Martin, how much hem did you allow for this little pink dress? One inch? Don’t you think that’s rather scant?” asked Mrs. Osborne anxiously.
“That’s plenty!” said Mrs. Martin crisply. “You know these days, when we ought to economize. One inch is plenty.”
“Say, Mrs. Martin, are you sure the minister’s wife won’t object to that? I heard her say all children’s dresses ought to have a deep hem for letting down. She said that was true economy,” said Minnie Marlin with a worried look.
Mrs. Martin’s lips pursed thinly.
“Well, if Mrs. Castor wants to dictate about hems, she better be on hand when the work is being done. If you ask me, I think it’s rather late for the minister’s wife to come to an all-day meeting. It’s almost time for lunch, and she’s not here yet. Of course she’s rather new here, only been in the parsonage four months, but that’s not long enough for her to dictate. Not about hems, anyway, especially when the material wasn’t donated by her.”
“Why, she’s got a sick child. Didn’t you know it, Sarah Martin? She’s probably got her hands full without trying to get here at all,” said Mrs. Bowen.
“Yes, I know it. That smallest child of hers is always sick,” said Mrs. Martin. “If you ask me, I think she’s just a spoiled baby, always demanding her mother.”
“Shh!” said Mrs. Green. “Here comes the oldest daughter. Her mother’s likely sent her in to take her place.”
“Take her place! Humph!” said Mrs. Martin. “That little high school kid take the place of a minister’s wife? Well, not if the minister’s wife herself was the right kind of a woman, she couldn’t.”
“Shh! She’s coming in, I tell you!” said Mrs. Green.
Rose Castor entered sweetly, breezily, carrying a large platter covered with a napkin.
“Good morning, ladies. Mother sent me over with these hot biscuits. She said you were to sit right down and eat them now, that she’d be over in a minute or two.”
“Oh!” said Mrs. Martin with a somewhat mollified air. “Well, that’s nice. I suppose we can appreciate the biscuits, even if we don’t appreciate her being away all the morning, and work here to be done.”
Rose’s cheeks were the color of her name.
“Oh,” she said, her sensitive lips quivering. “Mother was sorry not to be here. She had to stay and wait for a telephone call for Father from New York about the arrangements for a funeral. And he had to go to the Tanner funeral this morning, you know.”
“Oh! Was that it? Well, of course that couldn’t be helped,” said Mrs. Martin in a conciliatory tone.
Rose went on into the church kitchen and put the biscuits where they would keep warm, and when she came out she was talking with Mrs. Green’s daughter Luella, who had been making the coffee for the lunch that was soon to be served.
“And oh, Luella, I forgot to tell you!” said Rose. “I heard the nicest thing about Revel Radcliffe. You know he went away to be with his dying grandfather, and now the grandfather is getting well, but Revel is staying on with him and has entered Linwood College.”
“You don’t mean it!” exclaimed Luella Green eagerly. “Isn’t that perfectly grand for Revel! You know how he used to say he didn’t want to go to the university, he wanted to go to a smaller college.”
“Revel Radcliffe!” exclaimed Mrs. Martin, swinging around on the two girls. “You don’t mean to say that two respectable girls like you have any acquaintance with a young reprobate like that Radcliffe fellow. Why, he’s a young bum, and nothing else. He’s heading to be a gangster, I’m sure. I certainly am surprised that you know him. Of course, the minister’s daughter hasn’t been here long enough to be expected to know, but you, Luella, you certainly have no excuse like that!”
“Why, Mrs. Martin!” said Luella in astonishment. “What can you mean? Revel Radcliffe was in my class in high school, and he was a perfectly grand student. He led the whole class, and he was even exempt from examination in every one of his studies!”
“I know nothing about his scholastic abilities,” said Mrs. Martin severely. “It is his morals of which I am speaking. The rudest, most unprincipled boy I ever knew. A boy that would actually dishonor his own noble father by refusing to be called by his name, and taking instead the name of his mother’s family! A boy that would deliberately absent himself from his own father’s wedding! No one could know those two things about him and not know that he was unprincipled, even if there were no other things against him. I happen to know several! He is dishonest and rude in the extreme.”
“Why, Mrs. Martin!” exclaimed the two girls in chorus. “How can you talk that way about him? Why he always had an A in deportment.”
“Yes? Well you may be sure it was a hypocritical A then, to hide other things. I have no doubt that he is quite slic
k in getting around his teachers. But I happen to know! You see, it was on my own property that he was poaching, catching fish, and actually daring to go by the house, carrying them away. I saw him myself, and when I charged him with it, he tried to lie out of it. And here, just recently, he was very rude to a young girl who was visiting in my home for a few hours. He picked an acquaintance with her up near the woods somewhere, when she was all alone and no one about to protect her, and he actually presumed upon that acquaintance to send her a lot of flowers, weeds they really were, just nothing short of an insult, it was. I tried to get her to let me send them back with a fitting note, but she was so kindhearted that she wouldn’t let me, and she actually took them with her! But I have never forgiven him for insulting her in that way. A guest in my home! And such a sweet, charming girl, so unsuspecting that anything was wrong.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Hopkins, who lived up the road on the way to the woods, “was that the little girl I saw walking down the hill past my house with a boy when it was almost dark? I wondered. And do you say that Radcliffe boy actually chased her and picked up an acquaintance with her? At dark? Oh, my dear! How unfortunate! Who was she, anyway? She had a very attractive way with her, and she seemed to like his company well enough, for she was smiling up into his face as they went by my house. I guess he’s the kind of boy who gets acquainted with strange girls very easily, isn’t he? He looks like a boy who is sweet on all girls.”
Suddenly Luella Green spoke.
“Mrs. Hopkins, Revel Radcliffe is not that kind of a boy in the least. He never had anything at all to do with girls. He never went to dances, nor took girls to movies and things, nor even went walking with them. And we know, for we were in the same class with him, and I, at least, have been going to the same school and in the same room with him ever since we were in kindergarten. He never looks at a girl if he can help it, except to be extremely polite to them when it is necessary.”
The Girl of the Woods Page 12