An Unwilling Guest (12 page)

The narrow ribbon adorned the little bundles of white sandwiches which had come in a basket from Eth
el Haines, and made cunning lit
tle rosettes in the handles of the glass dishes that held the delicate sponge cakes, and there were bright red apples polished till they shone like rubies in a pile at each end of the table, set about with bits of green from an evergreen tree. It was easy to improvise scarlet shades for the tiny lamp and candles Allison possessed, and when the dainty cups were clustered on a white-covered side-t
able, with the little brass tea
kettle beside them ready for lighting, the whole was charming.

Yet in spite of all this Allison, as she went from her hairdresser's hand late in the afternoon to finish dressing, thought with trembling of the evening before her and wished it were over. The matter of dress was settled. Evelyn was to wear a white cloth dress with a touch of crimson velvet here and there. Allison thought of the harmony of it with the other decorations with
satisfaction, and then smiled to think how she was reckoning Miss Rutherford as one of the decorations.

At the last minute there came a message from Ethel Haines. Her aunt was so very ill that she would not be able to come after all. She enclosed the
programme
and begged Allison to take charge. She also mentioned that the chief performer of the evening had the mumps and would not be present, so Allison would have to play.

Poor Allison! Her nerves already under a strain gave way. She sat down and let the discouraged tears come.

"I simply cannot play at all, mamma. What shall I do? You know I never play in public, not really fine music, nothing except ballads and things, without
practicing
, and I wo
uld not play before Miss Ruther
ford for the world. She is a very fine performer. Didn't you hear her the other night when Maurice was here? She is wonderful"

Evelyn stood in the door in the soft white dress with crimson touches at her belt and throat, and with her mo
st gracious manner. She felt se
cretly elated at her success in helping the sister of that young man. She
began to think she understood what he had meant and wished he were here to witness how well she was doing it Moreover, she could but hear what Allison had said, and being proud of her ability to play was naturally pleased. Therefore when Mrs. Grey looked up at her smiling, and said: "Why don't you ask her to play then, dear?" and Allison, her head still buried in her handkerchief, sobbed out: "I wouldn't dare, mother. I am sure she wouldn't do it,
" she smilingly offered her ser
vices to any extent
.

Allison looked up ashamed and pleased and troubled all in one. Then she burst out: "But Bert
Judkins
was to play on his violin and he doesn't know much about it and will
murder things dreadfully, I pre
sume. Someone will have to accompany him and I simply can't do it He is
in
my Sunday-school class and I should get so nervous over him I should break down."

"Can't you suppress him?" said Evelyn frowning.

"No!" said Allison decidedly, a flash coming into her eyes
in
spite of her misery. "It was a great thing to get him to come. We had to coax him and we hope to get hold of him through his love of music. Some of the girls are going to try to
make him feel at home to
night so he will come again, and perhaps begin to come to church."

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. This sort of thing was beyond her, but she was determined that as far as the evening was concerned she would do her best to help.

"Never mind, don't worry," she said kindly. "I'm sure I can blunder through some sort of an accompaniment with him. Come, let us get those candles ready to light and pick the red leaves for the mantel. Are you sure you can find any more?"

"Yes, I know a sheltered spot on the back veranda where they are still bright I'll go out and get them," and Allison dried her eyes and went away, wondering what spell had befallen this strange girl. If things went on like this she would be really liking her soon.

T
he evening was a strange experi
ence in Evelyn Rutherford's his
tory, because o
f her first effort to help some
one else. She felt extremely virtuous, and wondered what her New York friends would think of her. Then she wondered if that young man who set himself up as her mentor would be satisfied.

Toward the girls, who arrived promptly at five in goodly company, Evelyn maintained a stately distance, like a queen who chooses to grace an occasion but who will not mingle with the throng. From time to time Allison glanced her way with a troubled expression. She had feared Evelyn would hold off in this way and she felt sure the
Hillcroft
girls would dislike her in consequence. Why Allison should care whether they disliked her or not she was sure she did not know, unless for the sake of her old friend, Evelyn's aunt, who would be grieved thereby. But having presented her she naturally wished to have her liked, and feared that the evening would be filled with embarrassment in consequence of the new element in the midst.

Evelyn sat quietly and watched the exercises. There were papers and brief discussions which were not ver
y animated because a sudden shy
ness had fallen on the girls. Evelyn decided that they were largely of the class that Allison was trying to help, with a sprinkling of girls of culture like Allison. These for the most part were quiet, unobtrusive creatures, and not particularly attractive. They looked like girls from good homes, and they were tolerably well dressed. The rest
were awk
ward and embarrassed, all but a few, who were bold and talked loud and giggled when they spoke. Evelyn decided that it was a nice thing in Allison to give up her time to elevating these other girls. Perhaps
this was what the young doctor had mea
nt, that she might help his sis
ter in her good works, if she would. If th
at was it she was entirely will
ing to do what she could, provided the work was all as pleasant as it had been to-day. She should not care to be too familiar with all these girls. This discussion part, with the ten-minute papers on what a young girl should read and how she should read and why she should read, and a number of other heads under the general topic of reading, Evelyn privately voted a bore. She yawned behind her jeweled hand and wished this part was over. The plain-faced girl who was enumerating a list of books for busy readers saw the yawn and hurried so that she choked, and wished she had not promised to write a paper, vowing she never would do so again.

But when the evening came on E
velyn began to be more of a suc
cess. Among the first of the boys and young men to arrive was the aforesaid Bert
Judkins
. He wore a cheap new dark suit and looked well He had heavy handsome features and large eyes full of fun. His black hair and red cheeks were set off by a very red tie with a large, prominent glass diamond, which he wore
without any apparent ef
frontery. His hair was nicely plastered in places where its original curls would submit to being subdued, and his hands were clean with a smooth black rim under each finger na
il. It was not a part of his up
bringing to finish his toilet by cleaning his nails. He came in with a swagger, his violin
in
a green flannel bag in his hand. He saluted one or two of the commoner girls with a nonchalant, "Hello, Nan!" "
Ev'nin
', Nell!" and lounged over to the piano, where he took, as a matter of course, a place of honor for the evening.

Evelyn sat on the piano stool. She
had just been introduced to sev
eral of the young men, but so far all of them seemed shy and gravitated naturally out of her orbit. In truth they were somewhat afraid of her. The few older young men who had not left the town to go to some city where there was more enterprise, were so busy that they were generally late in attending such gatherings if they came at all.

So Evelyn eyed curiously the lad—for he was but seventeen—who had taken the seat beside her. She imagined from what she had heard and the violin bag
in
his hand that this was the musician o
f the eve
ning. She wondered what he was going to attempt and studied him idly. His face was not altogether unattractive. There was a great good-humored conceit and a tremendous love of fun mingled in his face, and the merry eyes were wandering about the room, winking at one and smiling at another, and once he stuck his tongue in his cheek with a comical expression at another. It was evident that nothing ever abashed him. It was only when Allison came his way that a different expression crossed his face. A kind
of lighting of reverence and em
barrassment changed him into a really handsome fellow. Evelyn saw him look at Allison's hair. Was it possible that a boy like that noticed a change of finery in his Sunday-school teacher? He s
miled when Alli
son came nearer and shifted his eyes to the other side of the room. Evelyn saw that was a sort of diffidence and wondered at it. He had not seemed embarrassed, even by the presence of her, a stranger. There was a gentle kindliness of manner in Allison when she spoke to this
boy that Evelyn had not seen in
her before, and she perceived that there was a relationship between teacher and scholar that she knew not of.

A sudden interest in the new specimen before her took Evelyn. Maybe she could help here. What if she should try? At least it would be better than sitting and doing nothing. Allison looked doubtfully at Evelyn, wondering whether to risk the experiment of an introduction to the boy. She feared he might not take kindly to the haughtiness Miss Rutherford would be likely to offer him. The hour was drawing near when they would have to play together. She finally risked it and walked away; to her surprise Evelyn turned to the boy all smiles and graciousness. Allison, watching from the other side of the room, was amazed and wondered if this was a si
de of her nature that Miss Ruth
erford kept for all members of the male sex. It disgusted her a little and she began to fear that her guest might with her frivolous talk dispel any good seed that might have been sown in his heart.

The two by the piano were getting on well. "Are you to play?" asked Evelyn, "and will you let me see your accompaniments?"

"Why,
ain't
Miss Norton
goin
' to be here?" said the boy, looking around the room. "Some of these pieces are pretty hard. Do you think you can play '
em
without
practisin
'?"

"I believe she is ill," said Evelyn, reaching for the sheets of music he held. "I might try them. I think I have seen some of them before."

She was amused at the idea he had of
her ability, but she was aston
ished at the really good music he had chosen, rather disappointed too, because it grated on her to have good music murdered.

The boy leaned over and pointed out one or two places where she must be sure to "hang on" as he expressed it, and he gave her a few other instructions in musical phrases mispronounced which nearly broke down her gravity, but she managed to keep her face straight, as she was almost immediately called upon to open the
programme
with a piano selection.

She had chosen a brilliant
valse
and took them all by storm with her rendition. Especially did Allison notice the expression on the face of Bert
Judkins
. He was evidently impressed. He drank in the music and watched the white fingers that moved easily and with such mysterious swiftness among the twinkling harmonies. When the first selection was over it was met by a perfect burst of applause.
Hillcroft
was not used to such music and it wanted some more. Evelyn good
naturedly complied and jingled off a little medley of nursery melodies, which kept them laughing till the end.

When Evelyn turned back to her companion he leaned toward her and said in a loud whisper: "Say, you've played before a few times,
ain't
you? I guess you'll do," and he nodded his encouragement and admiration frankly.

There followed a recitation by a young lady who appeared to have been taking elocution lessons very hard, and who ranted and tore about over a few imaginary wrongs she was reciting. Evelyn did not care to listen and she noticed that the boy's face expressed a kind of fascinated horror. When it was done he said to Evelyn, in a kind of low growl, "Aw, she's no good, never was! Too stuck on herself!" and he threw himself back in his chair with a superior air.

It was very strange what a difference a little desire to help had made in Evelyn. At any other time sitting near an ill-bred young fellow she would have curled her lip and wondered how he came to be allowed to breathe the same air with herself; and here she was hoping he would not play too badly, that she might be able to praise him a little. She
was indeed pleased to find that he had some idea of the feeling in the music he had selected and that his execution, though crude, was not unpleasant to listen to. She grew inte
rested in helping him by follow
ing his eccentric playing and covering a
ny irregularities by her own ac
companiment. They scored a great success as the audience testified, and the boy sat down mopping his perspiring brow and saying:

"Well, we did '
em
fine that time, didn't we? I never played better in my life. I never had anybody play so good
fer
the accompaniments before. They always make me get
throwed
out, some way. I wish you could go along with me every time I play."

She bowed her acknowledgment of his praise and wondered what her friends in New York would say if they could hear that. She fancied her brother Dick would shout over it, and tease her most unmercifully for months. She wondered if Mr. Worthington's black
pointed mus
tache would curl in disdain and he would say, "The impudent little cur," as he had once at a little newsboy who ran against her dress to sell a paper to a hurried gentleman. And then in contrast came the noble, high-bred face of Doctor Grey as he had asked her to help his sister. He would not think she was in poor business, and what harm would it do her for just one night to let this ignorant boy speak
h
is rough compliments. It was not like Evelyn Rutherford to argue thus, but she was being touched by an influence which as yet she knew not She was praying that she might be willing to belong to Christ, and he was answering her unawares by letting her see himself in the souls of others for whom he lived and died.

The
programme
, so far as the music was concerned, was a success.

Just before the last selection by Evelyn, Allison read a bit culled from Ralph Connor's "Black Rock." The room was very still when she had finished. Evelyn was astonished at the power Allison had over her audience, at her ability to turn them from laughter to tears, and to imitate perfectly the speech of all the
characters. Bert
Judkins
sat en
tranced. The story struck home to a world where he lived every day, and the truths contained had made to vibrate a vital chord in his heart During a tender passage he had dropped some of his music, and in stooping awkwardly to pick it up Evelyn noticed his big, rough hand
d
rawn impatiently across his eyes. When Allison sat down he turned to Evelyn after a moment of quiet and said: "
Ain't
she a rare one, though? I tell you now, she's good."

Evelyn turned to the piano marveling at the power the teacher had over the scholar, and she played a soft, sweet, mysterious, tender poem of sound that served to deepen the impression made by the reading.

During the hour of pleasant socia
bility and refreshment that fol
lowed before the company broke up Miss Rutherford and Bert
Judkins
were side by side.

The company were given pencils and cards and asked to go into the hall, where were arranged upon the wall a number of cards, each one representing
in
picture the name of some book. It was an old device in
Hillcroft
to make people feel at their ease, but it had never happened to come Evelyn's way, and struck her as quite a new and bright idea. She was quick at guessing, and during
the last week in this house hap
pened to have read a good many of the books represented, so that she was able to find out a goodly number, and she made the boy by her side help her. Together they puzzled out the names. He knew only a few books but those he knew he could guess quicker than she, and when the list was called out they found they had a good many
num
bers correctly written. By this t
ime
Evelyn was interested in spite of herself, in this rough, unfinished boy-man, who was so thoroughly frank and so refreshingly blunt
in
what he had to say. She came from a world where people hid their true thoughts with pleasant words. This boy said what he thought regardless of others' opinions or the world's. She had always been an admirer of free speech. The boy was worth doing something for. What was it they were wanting to do with him, anyway? Get him to church, Allison had said. And what did they want to do with him when they got him to come to church? Educate him? Elevate him? Or perhaps make him into that mysterious something that Doctor Grey wanted her so much to be. It softened her much as these days went by to think that anyone had cared enough for her in any way to think of her every day for a year, and pray for her.