THE HONOR GIRL (23 page)

“Oh!” said Mr. Hathaway, straightening up and looking pleased. “In Mr. Stewart’s car? That’s nice. Then we won’t have to hurry. Why, Betty! That you? And Katharine! Well, this is great. I’ve scarcely seen you since you were little girls. Got to be young ladies now, haven’t you? Well, I’m real glad to see you. Elsie here gets lonesome, I guess, sometimes with nothing but men around. Why don’t you come real often?”

He greeted the strangers half shyly and then, abashed, retired to a shadowed corner of the room, the light of eagerness suddenly dying out of his eyes. In the presence of men he always wore that look of apology.

Nevertheless, Katharine, studying him carefully, saw that he had an air of rejuvenation about him, that his eyes were brighter, his whole attitude more self-respecting than she remembered him ever to have had before. He was not bad looking. In fact, he was rather a distinguished-looking old man, if he only wouldn’t slink into the corner so and act as if he didn’t want to be seen. Nevertheless, she could see that he adored Elsie, and she turned and looked curiously at her cousin as if there, too, she saw signs of things she had never suspected in her character before. Why had Elsie been willing to leave their home and come out here? It was perfectly marvelous what Elsie had accomplished in so short a time; but why, WHY, did anybody want to do hard things like that, that they didn’t have to do? She couldn’t understand it. Her own nature was ease-loving, fun-loving, selfishly inclined. Suddenly she realized that it was time they were going. If Elsie was really not going home with them, they had better cut the agony short. Halsey Kennedy would have an unremovable grouch, of course. One could see it coming on now. His eyebrows were drawn down, and his lips stuck out twice their usual thickness. He had already realized that Elsie was hopelessly out of the evening plans, and felt himself tricked into a most dull and uninteresting afternoon with no compensations for the evening. He felt it his immediate duty to get even with Katharine by not speaking to her all the way into the city.

So Katharine, crestfallen, filled with varying emotions, retired from the field of defeat. But, as she was going out the door, she showed her mettle and the glorious way in which she could surrender by turning toward her cousins with a ravishing smile, which included the poor old uncle in the background, and saying: “Mamma is going to want you all to come to dinner very soon, you know, and you really must find a date when every one of you can come.”

Then the invading party crowded morosely into their car and departed.

“Gee whillikins!” shouted Jack as he closed the door behind them. “Now
what
do you suppose she did that for?”

“Why, I guess she is just coming to herself, Jack, dear,” mused Elsie with a smile. “You know really Katharine is all right if she just understands. She is beginning to understand.”

“I should think it was about time!” growled Jack to his necktie as he took the stairs at a stride, and proceeded to make a rapid toilet for the basketball game.

He was very much pleased that Elsie had suggested his taking Ruby Garner with them. Ruby was an enchanting girl with yellow hair and brown eyes and the cherriest cheeks and lips. All the boys in high school were crazy about her. She had dimples and the most charming little smile. She had been in the grammar school when Jack stopped going to the high school. He hadn’t seen her often since, but they were pretty good friends. She told him her troubles sometimes. Her mother had died a year ago, and her father was away a great deal. Jack was wonderfully pleased that she admired Elsie. He thought she needed a girl friend. He had rather crazy ideas of proprieties himself, but he liked to think of Ruby as being guarded by wise friends. He hadn’t an idea that Elsie was getting acquainted with Ruby for his sake.

He wasn’t quite sure how Elsie found out that he rather liked Ruby. He was positive he hadn’t told her himself. It was awfully decent of Stewart to send word he might bring a girl along, and to take Father too. Poor Dad! He didn’t have many pleasures. How kiddish he acted about going! People didn’t grow old, even if they had lived a long time. He wondered whether next year, when he got into the university, they would all go down to see him play basketball some night—and bring Ruby!

He lifted his chin, and drew the knot of his tie closer, smiling at himself in the glass, then, whirling into his coat, he went whistling down to the dinner table to snatch a bite before the car came.

On the whole, Elsie was quite content as she got into the front seat with Stewart and had the luxurious fur robes tucked about her. The pretty girl whom they picked up at the third corner looked just a mischievous, sweet child, and not at all dangerous for Jack as a friend. Elsie felt she could like her at once, and resolved to make friends with her. It was not nearly so bad as if Jack had taken a notion to some bold, loud girl with penciled eyebrows and powdered countenance. Little Ruby was quite awed and childlike in the presence of the sister and the father and this elegant young man who touched his hat as if she were a queen, and helped to tuck the robes about her when she settled down into the back seat beside Jack. She was filled with delight over the prospect of the ride in such a car and the game she was to attend. Her eyes sparkled, and her dimples came and went bewitchingly. Her voice was low and sweet when she answered shyly the few questions they put to her now and then. Elsie felt that her presence was not going to spoil the little party at all.

With her mind at ease about Jack and her father, with pleasant anticipations of the game and Gene’s part in it, with the gloomy background of her troubles with her cousins pleasantly removed, Elsie was free to enjoy the companionship of Stewart, and the swift, beautiful ride to the university. And all the way her heart kept singing. She was becoming convinced that, when one was faithfully going according to one’s conscience, sooner or later the way would be opened and the clouds break.

I
t was a lovely day, one of those when the air is filled with new perfume, and the buzz of contented bees who find no trouble in filling their honey storehouses. Even the sparrows of the city were glad, and gave a festive air to the close-growing-ivy-covered walls of the school buildings. Cameron Stewart, as he stopped his automobile in front of the stone steps of the Library building where Professor Bowen was awaiting him, felt like a boy let loose from school.

“Have you any particular route laid out, Cameron?” asked the old man, as he climbed contentedly into the big car. “Because if you haven’t I’d like it very much if you would take in Morningside. I saw an old friend this morning who lives out there, and I promised I’d stop in for a greeting if possible.”

Cameron Stewart suppressed a twinkle from his eyes and smiled genially.

“All right,” he said heartily, “it won’t be much out of the way. But we’ll take the Park Drive first and come home by Morningside way. I want you to get the full effect of the afternoon light on the woods along the Park Drive. We’ll get over to Morningside a little after four o’clock. Will that be time enough?”

“Oh, plenty!” said the older man and hastened to change the subject.

“Well, here we are,” said Stewart, at last, two hours later. “This is Morningside. Did you say Harvard Avenue? The last house? Now, shall I run around the block while you go in, or will you be right out again?”

“You come in, Cameron, I very much wish it,” said the professor in the tone he used in class when the students tried to beg off. “You know I like my friends to know one another.”

The old man’s hand was on his arm. Stewart turned away to hide a smile.

“All right if you say so,” he answered. He followed up the path to the familiar door.

The old man did not wait to ring the bell: He walked right in and straight through the hall into the dining-room, looking happily around the wile as if he were about to open up some secret delight.

“Ah! Here you are!” came his voice from the room beyond the dining-room. “This way, Cameron. Step right through here!”

Elsie took off her big apron, and turned down the skirt of her green linen gown that had been pinned up under her apron.

The slanting rays of the afternoon sun fell through the wide kitchen window and shone full upon her hair like a halo of blessing as she stooped to take the last loaf of golden crusted bread from the oven. The odor of the fresh bread was floating all about her. On the clean new shelf that ran across one side of the kitchen stood the other loaves across their pans to cool, beside the sponge cake and the pies. A great pan of beans, brown and inviting, stood near, and a generous glass bowl of mayonnaise added its golden hue to the pretty array. It was a sight of which any cook might have been proud.

“We did not stop till we found you, my dear,” said Professor Bowen, “and Elsie, child, this is my dear boy, Cameron Stewart. You remember him, I am sure. I have been anxious to have you know one another better.”

Stewart came forward, smiling.

Professor Bowen stood an instant glancing about the neat kitchen while Elsie and Cameron smiled a greeting over his head. Then turning to the young man suddenly the old professor began to recite: “ ‘After all, these school tests are not real. It’s the later life that is the real test, the home life.’ Cameron, do you remember saying you would like to see this young woman tried by the fire in the range? Look there!” and he pointed a triumphant finger to the table of inviting cookery.

“I wish it were my pleasant duty to award you your degree,” said Stewart gracefully with a smile in his eyes.

“He means he would like to sample your cookery, Elsie,” said Professor Bowen comically.

“And so he shall,” said Elsie magnanimously. “Where will you begin?”

Cameron Stewart stepped forward and surveyed the row of good things gravely.

“That bread smells delightful,” said he, soberly, “but on the whole I think I’ll simply have to have a piece of that blackberry pie. I haven’t seen blackberry pie like that since I left home.”

“You shall have it,” said Elsie, proud that she might show what she could do in the line of cookery to both the men. “Just step into the living-room and sit down. Refreshments will be served in three minutes.”

Professor Bowen led the way back and they sat down gravely and waited, the elder man gazing about on the pretty room and talking soberly about architecture, with eyes that were twinkling and running over with merriment and “I-told-you-sos.” He gave Cameron Stewart no opportunity to interrupt him until in an incredibly short space of time, Elsie appeared with a tray on which was a dainty little repast for two. A crust of the fresh hot bread, a square of butter, a lettuce leaf with a dab of mayonnaise, a dish of the baked beans perfectly browned, a piece of lowing succulent berry pie, with a cup of coffee and a square of golden sponge cake.

“That is the best meal I ever tasted,” declared Cameron Stewart as he finished his generous piece of pie and picked up the last crumb of cake. “You get perfect marks from me in every one, if I am allowed to be the judge. And now, most beloved of professor, lest you attempt to rub it in, let me tell you that I have already made my apology for past offences and been forgiven. Professor Bowen, your honor girl is my honor girl, too!”

A little later as they started away, Elsie came out to the car to see them off. As the voice of the engine began to throb, Professor Bowen leaned over the side of the car and whispered to Elsie: “Goodnight, little honor girl—
my
honor girl. I knew you would win!”

G
RACE
L
IVINGSTON
H
ILL
(1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote over one hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.