The Girl from Montana

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The Girl from Montana Page 11

by Grace Livingston Hill


  CHAPTER XI

  IN FLIGHT AGAIN

  When Elizabeth lay down to rest that night, with Lizzie still chatteringby her side, she found that there was one source of intense pleasure inanticipation, and that was the prospect of going to God's house toChristian Endeavor. Now perhaps she would be able to find out what it allhad meant, and whether it were true that God took care of people and hidthem in time of trouble. She felt almost certain in her own littleexperience that He had cared for her, and she wanted to be quite sure, sothat she might grasp this precious truth to her heart and keep it forever.No one could be quite alone in the world if there was a God who cared andloved and hid.

  The aunt and the grandmother were up betimes the next morning, lookingover some meagre stores of old clothing, and there was found an old dresswhich it was thought could be furbished over for Elizabeth. They werehard-working people with little money to spare, and everything had to beutilized; but they made a great deal of appearance, and Lizzie was proudas a young peacock. She would not take Elizabeth to the store to face thehead man without having her fixed up according to the most approved style.

  So the aunt cut and fitted before she went off for the day, and Elizabethwas ordered to sew while she was gone. The grandmother presided at therattling old sewing-machine, and in two or three days Elizabeth waspronounced to be fixed up enough to do for the present till she couldearn some new clothes. With her fine hair snarled into a cushion andpuffed out into an enormous pompadour that did not suit her face in theleast, and with an old hat and jacket of Lizzie's which did not become hernor fit her exactly, she started out to make her way in the world as asaleswoman. Lizzie had already secured her a place if she suited.

  The store was a maze of wonder to the girl from the mountains--so manybright, bewildering things, ribbons and tin pans, glassware and toys,cheap jewelry and candies. She looked about with the dazed eyes of acreature from another world.

  But the manager looked upon her with eyes of favor. He saw that her eyeswere bright and keen. He was used to judging faces. He saw that she was asyet unspoiled, with a face of refinement far beyond the general run of thegirls who applied to him for positions. And he was not beyond a friendlyflirtation with a pretty new girl himself; so she was engaged at once, andput on duty at the notion-counter.

  The girls flocked around her during the intervals of custom. Lizzie hadtold of her cousin's long ride, embellished, wherever her knowledgefailed, by her extremely wild notions of Western life. She had told howElizabeth arrived wearing a belt with two pistols, and this gave Elizabethstanding at once among all the people in the store. A girl who couldshoot, and who wore pistols in a belt like a real cowboy, had a socialdistinction all her own.

  The novel-reading, theatre-going girls rallied around her to a girl; andthe young men in the store were not far behind. Elizabeth was popular fromthe first. Moreover, as she settled down into the routine of life, andhad three meals every day, her cheeks began to round out just a little;and it became apparent that she was unusually beautiful in spite of herdark skin, which whitened gradually under the electric light andhigh-pressure life of the store.

  They went to Christian Endeavor, Elizabeth and her cousin; and Elizabethfelt as if heaven had suddenly dropped down about her. She lived from weekto week for that Christian Endeavor.

  The store, which had been a surprise and a novelty at first, began to be atrial to her. It wore upon her nerves. The air was bad, and the crowdswere great. It was coming on toward Christmas time, and the store wascrammed to bursting day after day and night after night, for they keptopen evenings now until Christmas. Elizabeth longed for a breath from themountains, and grew whiter and thinner. Sometimes she felt as if she mustbreak away from it all, and take Robin, and ride into the wildernessagain. If it were not for the Christian Endeavor, she would have done so,perhaps.

  Robin, poor beast, was well housed and well fed; but he worked for hisliving as did his mistress. He was a grocer's delivery horse, worked fromMonday morning early till Saturday night at ten o'clock, subject to cursesand kicks from the grocery boy, expected to stand meekly at thecurbstones, snuffing the dusty brick pavements while the boy delivered abox of goods, and while trolleys and beer-wagons and automobiles slammedand rumbled and tooted by him, and then to start on the double-quick tothe next stopping-place.

  He to be thus under the rod who had trod the plains with a free foot andsnuffed the mountain air! It was a great come-down, and his life became aweariness to him. But he earned his mistress a dollar a week besides hisboard. There would have been some consolation in that to his faithfulheart if he only could have known it. Albeit she would have gladly gonewithout the dollar if Robin could have been free and happy.

  One day, one dreadful day, the manager of the ten-cent store came toElizabeth with a look in his eyes that reminded her of the man in Montanafrom whom she had fled. He was smiling, and his words were undulypleasant. He wanted her to go with him to the theatre that evening, and hecomplimented her on her appearance. He stated that he admired herexceedingly, and wanted to give her pleasure. But somehow Elizabeth hadfallen into the habit ever since she left the prairies of comparing allmen with George Trescott Benedict; and this man, although he dressed well,and was every bit as handsome, did not compare well. There was a sinister,selfish glitter in his eyes that made Elizabeth think of the serpent onthe plain just before she shot it. Therefore Elizabeth declined theinvitation.

  It happened that there was a missionary meeting at the church thatevening. All the Christian Endeavorers had been urged to attend. Elizabethgave this as an excuse; but the manager quickly swept that away, sayingshe could go to church any night, but she could not go to this particularplay with him always. The girl eyed him calmly with much the same attitudewith which she might have pointed her pistol at his head, and saidgravely,

  "But I do not want to go with you."

  After that the manager hated her. He always hated girls who resisted him.He hated her, and wanted to do her harm. But he fairly persecuted her toreceive his attentions. He was a young fellow, extremely young to beoccupying so responsible a position. He undoubtedly had business ability.He showed it in his management of Elizabeth. The girl's life became atorment to her. In proportion as she appeared to be the manager's favoritethe other girls became jealous of her. They taunted her with the manager'sattentions on every possible occasion. When they found anything wrong,they charged it upon her; and so she was kept constantly going to themanager, which was perhaps just what he wanted.

  She grew paler and paler, and more and more desperate. She had run awayfrom one man; she had run away from a woman; but here was a man from whomshe could not run away unless she gave up her position. If it had not beenfor her grandmother, she would have done so at once; but, if she gave upher position, she would be thrown upon her grandmother for support, andthat must not be. She understood from the family talk that they werehaving just as much as they could do already to make both ends meet andkeep the all-important god of Fashion satisfied. This god of Fashion hadcome to seem to Elizabeth an enemy of the living God. It seemed to occupyall people's thoughts, and everything else had to be sacrificed to meetits demands.

  She had broached the subject of school one evening soon after she arrived,but was completely squelched by her aunt and cousin.

  "You're too old!" sneered Lizzie. "School is for children."

  "Lizzie went through grammar school, and we talked about high for her,"said the grandmother proudly.

  "But I just hated school," grinned Lizzie. "It ain't so nice as it'scracked up to be. Just sit and study all day long. Why, they were alwayskeeping me after school for talking or laughing. I was glad enough when Igot through. You may thank your stars you didn't have to go, Bess."

  "People who have to earn their bread can't lie around and go to school,"remarked Aunt Nan dryly, and Elizabeth said no more.

  But later she heard of a night-school, and then she took up the subjectonce more. Lizzie scoffed at this. She said night-scho
ol was only for verypoor people, and it was a sort of disgrace to go. But Elizabeth stuck toher point, until one day Lizzie came home with a tale about TempleCollege. She had heard it was very cheap. You could go for ten cents anight, or something like that. Things that were ten cents appealed to her.She was used to bargain-counters.

  She heard it was quite respectable to go there, and they had classes inthe evening. You could study gymnastics, and it would make you graceful.She wanted to be graceful. And she heard they had a course in millinery.If it was so, she believed she would go herself, and learn to make the newkind of bows they were having on hats this winter. She could not seem toget the right twist to the ribbon.

  Elizabeth wanted to study geography. At least, that was the study Lizziesaid would tell her where the Desert of Sahara was. She wanted to knowthings, all kinds of things; but Lizzie said such things were only forchildren, and she didn't believe they taught such baby studies in acollege. But she would inquire. It was silly of Bessie to want to know,she thought, and she was half ashamed to ask. But she would find out.

  It was about this time that Elizabeth's life at the store grewintolerable.

  One morning--it was little more than a week before Christmas--Elizabethhad been sent to the cellar to get seven little red tin pails and shovelsfor a woman who wanted them for Christmas gifts for some Sunday-schoolclass. She had just counted out the requisite number and turned to goup-stairs when she heard some one step near her, and, as she looked up inthe dim light, there stood the manager.

  "At last I've got you alone, Bessie, my dear!" He said it with suavetriumph in his tones. He caught Elizabeth by the wrists, and before shecould wrench herself away he had kissed her.

  With a scream Elizabeth dropped the seven tin pails and the seven tinshovels, and with one mighty wrench took her hands from his grasp.Instinctively her hand went to her belt, where were now no pistols. If onehad been there she certainly would have shot him in her horror and fury.But, as she had no other weapon, she seized a little shovel, and struckhim in the face. Then with the frenzy of the desert back upon her sherushed up the stairs, out through the crowded store, and into the street,hatless and coatless in the cold December air. The passers-by made way forher, thinking she had been sent out on some hurried errand.

  She had left her pocketbook, with its pitifully few nickels for car-fareand lunch, in the cloak-room with her coat and hat. But she did not stopto think of that. She was fleeing again, this time on foot, from a man.She half expected he might pursue her, and make her come back to the hatedwork in the stifling store with his wicked face moving everywhere abovethe crowds. But she turned not to look back. On over the slushypavements, under the leaden sky, with a few busy flakes floating abouther.

  The day seemed pitiless as the world. Where could she go and what shouldshe do? There seemed no refuge for her in the wide world. Instinctivelyshe felt her grandmother would feel that a calamity had befallen them inlosing the patronage of the manager of the ten-cent store. Perhaps Lizziewould get into trouble. What should she do?

  She had reached the corner where she and Lizzie usually took the car forhome. The car was coming now; but she had no hat nor coat, and no money topay for a ride. She must walk. She paused not, but fled on in a steadyrun, for which her years on the mountain had given her breath. Three milesit was to Flora Street, and she scarcely slackened her pace after she hadsettled into that steady half-run, half-walk. Only at the corner of FloraStreet she paused, and allowed herself to glance back once. No, themanager had not pursued her. She was safe. She might go in and tell hergrandmother without fearing he would come behind her as soon as her backwas turned.

 

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