The Enchanted Barn Part 32

They were at the office almost immediately and Graham was helping her out.

"Now, when will you be through here?" he asked, glancing at his watch.

"What train were you planning to take down to the sh.o.r.e? I suppose you'll want to get back as soon as possible?"

"Yes," said Shirley, doubtfully, "I do. But I don't know whether I oughtn't to run out home first and get mother's big old shawl, and two or three other little things we ought to have brought along."

"No," said Graham, quickly, with a flash of anxiety in his face. "I wouldn't if I were you. They'll be anxious to see you, and if it's necessary you can run up again sometime. I think you'll find there are lots of shawls down at the cottage. I'm anxious to have you safely landed with your family once more. I promised Carol you'd be down the first train after you got your work done. How long is it going to take you to fix Mr. Barnard up so he can run things without you?"

"Oh, not more than two hours I should think, unless He wants something more than I know."

"Well, two hours. It is half-past nine now. We'll say two hours and a half. That ought to give you time. I think there's a train about then. I'll phone to the station and find out and let you know the exact time. The car will be here waiting for you."

"Oh, Mr. Graham, that's not a bit necessary! You have taken trouble enough for me already!" protested Shirley.

"No trouble at all!" declared Graham. "My chauffeur hasn't a thing to do but hang around with the car this morning and you might as well ride as walk. I'll phone you in plenty of time."

He lifted his hat and gave her a last look that kept the glow in her cheeks. She turned and went with swift steps in to her elevator.

Sidney Graham dropped his chauffeur at the station to enquire about trains and get tickets, with orders to report at his office within an hour, and himself took the wheel. Quickly working his way out of the city's traffic he put on all possible speed toward Glenside. He must get a glimpse of things and see that all was going well before he went to the office. What would Shirley have said if she had carried out her plan of coming out for her mother's shawl? He must put a stop to that at all costs. She simply must not see the old barn till the work was done, or the whole thing would be spoiled. Strange it had not occurred to him that she might want to come back after something! Well, he would just have to be on the continual lookout. For one thing he would stop at a store on the way back and purchase a couple of big steamer rugs and a long warm cloak. He could smuggle them into the cottage somehow and have the servants bring them out for common use as if they belonged to the house.

He was as eager as a child over every little thing that had been started during his absence, and walked about with the boss carpenter, settling two or three questions that had come up the day before. In ten minutes he was back in his car, whirling toward the city again, planning how he could best get those rugs and cloaks into the hands of the housekeeper at the sh.o.r.e without anybody suspecting that they were new. Then it occurred to him to take them down to Elizabeth and let her engineer the matter. There must be two cloaks, one for Shirley, for he wanted to take her out in the car sometimes and her little sc.r.a.p of a coat was entirely too thin even for summer breezes at the sh.o.r.e.

Shirley met with a great ovation when she entered the office. It was evident that her fame had gone before her. Mr. Barnard was already there, smiling benevolently, and Mr. Clegg frowning approvingly over his spectacles at her, The other office clerks came to shake hands or called congratulations, till Shirley was quite overwhelmed at her reception. Clegg and Barnard both followed her into the inner office and continued to congratulate her on the bravery she had shown and to express their appreciation of her loyalty and courage in behalf of the firm. Mr. Barnard handed her a check for a hundred dollars as a slight token of their appreciation of her work, telling her that beginning with the first of the month her salary was to be raised.

When at last she sat down to her typewriter and began to click out the wonderful notes that had made so much trouble, and put them in shape for practical use, her head was in a whirl and her heart was beating with a childish ecstasy. She felt as if she were living a real fairy tale, and would not ever be able to get back to common every-day life again.

At half-past eleven Graham called her up to tell her there was a train a little after twelve if she could be ready, and the car would be waiting for her in fifteen minutes.

When she finally tore herself away from the smiles and effusive thanks of Barnard and Clegg and took the elevator down to the street she found Sidney Graham himself awaiting her eagerly. This was a delightful surprise, for he had not said anything about coming himself or mentioned when he would be coming back to the sh.o.r.e, so she had been feeling that It might be some time before she would see him again.

He had just slammed the door of the car and taken his seat beside her when a large gray limousine slowed down beside them and a radiant, well-groomed, much-tailored young woman leaned out of the car, smiling at Graham, and pa.s.sing over Shirley with one of those unseeing stares wherewith some girls know so well how to erase other girls.

"Oh, Sidney! I'm so glad I met you!" she cried. "Mother has been phoning everywhere to find you. We are out at our country place for a couple of weeks, and she wants to ask you to come over this afternoon for a little tennis tournament we are having, with a dance on the lawn afterward."

"That's very kind of you, Harriet," said Graham pleasantly, "but I can't possibly be there. I have an engagement out of town for this afternoon and evening. Give my regards to your mother, please, and thank her for the invitation. I know you'll have a lovely time, you always do at your house."

"Oh, that's too bad, Sidney!" pouted the girl. "Why will you be so busy! and in the summer-time, too! You ought to take a vacation!

Well, if you can't come to-night, you'll run down over the week-end, won't you? We are having the Foresters and the Harveys. You like them, and we simply can't do without you."

"Sorry," said Graham, smilingly, "but I've got all my week-ends filled up just now. Harriet, let me introduce you to Miss Hollister. Miss Hale, Miss Hollister!"

Then did Harriet Hale have to take over her unseeing stare and acknowledge the introduction; somewhat stiffly, it must be acknowledged, for Harriet Hale did not enjoy having her invitations declined, and she could not quite place this girl with the lovely face and the half-shabby garments, that yet had somehow an air of having been made by a French artist.

"I'm sorry, Harriet, but we'll have to hurry away. We're going to catch a train at twelve-fifteen. Hope you have a beautiful time this afternoon. Remember me to Tom Harvey and the Foresters. Sorry to disappoint you, Harriet, but you see I've got my time just full up at present. Hope to see you soon again."

They were off, Shirley with the impression of Harriet Hale's smile of vinegar and roses; the roses for Graham, the vinegar for her.

Shirley's heart was beating wildly underneath her quiet demeanor. She had at last met the wonderful Harriet Hale, and Graham had not been ashamed to introduce her! There had been protection and enthronement in his tone as he spoke her name! It had not been possible for Miss Hale to patronize her after that. Shirley was still in a daze of happiness. She did not think ahead. She had all she could do to register new occurrences and emotions, and realize that her joy was not merely momentary. It had not occurred to her to wonder where Graham was going out of town. It was enough that he was here now.

When they reached the station Graham took two large packages out of the car, and gave some directions to the chauffeur.

"Sorry we couldn't have gone down in the car again," he said as they walked into the station, "but it needs some repairs and I don't want to take as long a run as that until it has been thoroughly overhauled."

Then he was going down too! He had declined Harriet Hale's invitation to go back to the cottage with her! Shirley's breath came in little happy gasps as she walked beside her companion down the platform to the train.

She found herself presently being seated in a big green velvet chair in the parlor car while the porter stowed away the two big packages in the rack overhead.

CHAPTER XXVII

There was only one other pa.s.senger in the car, an old man nodding behind a newspaper, with his chair facing in the other direction.

Graham took a swift survey of him and turned happily back with a smile to Shirley:

"At last I have you to myself!" he said with a sigh of satisfaction that made Shirley's cheeks bloom out rosily again.

He whirled her chair and his quite away from the vision of the old man, so that they were at the nearest possible angle to each other, and facing the windows. Then he sat down and leaned toward her.

"Shirley," he said in a tone of proprietorship that was tender and beautiful, "I've waited just as long as I'm going to wait to tell you something. I know it's lunch time, and I'm going to take you into the dining-car pretty soon and get you some lunch, but I must have a little chance to talk with you first, please."

Shirley's eyes gave glad permission and he hurried on.

"Shirley, I love you. I guess you've been seeing that for some time.

I knew I ought to hide it till you knew me better, but I simply couldn't do it. I never saw a girl like you, and I knew the minute I looked at you that you were of finer clay than other girls, anyway. I knew that if I couldn't win you and marry you I would never love anybody else. But yesterday when I heard you were in peril away off down in Washington and I away up here helpless to save you, and not even having the right to organize a search for you, I nearly went wild!

All the way down on the train I kept shutting my eyes and trying to pray the way you told your Sunday School boys how to pray. But all I could get out was, 'Oh, G.o.d, I love her! Save her! I love her!'

Shirley, I know I'm not one-half worthy enough for you, but I love you with all my heart and I want you for my wife. Will you marry me, Shirley?"

When she had recovered a little from her wonder and astonishment, and realized that he had asked her to marry him, and was waiting for his answer, she lifted her wondering eyes to his face, and tried to speak as her conscience and reason bade her.

"But I'm not like the other girls you know," she said bravely. Then he broke in upon her fervently.

"No, you're not like any other girl I know in the whole wide world.

Thank G.o.d for that! You are one among a thousand! No, you're one among the whole earthful of women! You're the _only_ one I could ever love!"

"But listen, please; you haven't thought. I'm not a society girl. I don't belong in your circle. I couldn't grace your position the way your wife ought to do. Remember, we're n.o.bodies. We're poor! We live in a _barn_!"

"What do you suppose I care about that?" he answered eagerly. "You may live in a barn all your days if you like, and I'll love you just the same. I'll come and live in the barn with you if you want me to. My position! My circle! What's that? You'll grace my home and my life as no other girl could do. You heart of my heart! You strong, sweet spirit! The only question I'm going to ask of you is, Can you love me?

If you can, I know I can make you happy, for I love you better than my life. Answer, please. Do you love me?"

She lifted her eyes, and their spirits broke through their glances. If the old man at the other end of the car was looking they did not know it.

They came back to the cottage at the sh.o.r.e with a manner so blissful and so unmistakable that even the children noticed. Elizabeth whispered to Carol at table: "My brother likes your sister a lot, doesn't he? I hope she likes him, too."

"I guess she does," responded Carol philosophically. "She oughtta.

He's been awfully good to her, and to all of us."

"People don't like people just for that," said wise Elizabeth.