Amorelle (15 page)

If he had not said that about recreation, she might have yielded, for it was not her nature to refuse nor to hold malice—and she was already repentant for what she had done—but the mention of a holiday in that connection, which he was intending to turn into a day of toil for his own profit, stung her deeply.

“Oh, you’re mistaken,” she said with spirit. “This
is
to be recreation. A lovely ride in a big car and a whole day in the woods. I haven’t been in the woods since I came from Glenellen. My uncle was anxious I should go. He said he thought I needed it.”

“Oh!”
said George with significant emphasis. “If you look at it that way, of course! I can
hire
a secretary. There are plenty to jump at the chance. I supposed you would
enjoy
a day in the office with me! But it seems you
prefer
other society. Well, I hope you have a wonderful time! Good-bye!”

He hung up with a click, and Amorelle dropped into a chair.

What had she done? Had she thrown away her last chance of happiness? Had she angered him forever? Oh, would things ever be right?

W
hen morning came, however, the picnic looked to her impossible, and she came downstairs determined to call up George and say she would go down to the office after all.

But it developed that Louise was depending upon her for so many things during the day that there would be a scene if she stayed away from the picnic. So there seemed no way but to acquiesce, but it was with anything but pleasure that she did so.

The merry chatter of the gathering party filled her with dismay as the girls in pretty organdie dresses fluttered into the dining room to assist in the last rites of packing the hampers, and the young men carried the big ice cream freezer out and stowed things away in the three cars that were to convey the party.

No one paid the slightest attention to Amorelle, except to ask her where she had put the lemon squeezer and to send her out to the car with a forgotten package of sandwiches. But Amorelle was used to such treatment from Louise’s friends and had schooled herself to be strictly an outsider. She meant to get her pleasure somehow from the trees and sky and a quiet nook in which to think after her duties had been performed.

Louise introduced the guest, Russell Garrison, to her friends, ending with, “That’s all of us, I believe. Now shall we start?”

“I think you’ve missed one,” said the young man, his eyes resting pleasantly on Amorelle.

A wave of annoyance passed over Louise’s face, but she answered with a careless laugh. “Oh, didn’t I introduce Amorelle? She’s just my cousin, Amorelle Dean. Come, Mr. Garrison, you’re to sit with me in the front seat.”

Amorelle found herself presently in the little middle seat just behind Louise with a good view of the stranger, who kept turning back to include her in the merry conversation.

The backseat held two girls and a man, the other man of the quartet being seated in the mate to Amorelle’s seat with his back toward her and his attention concentrated on the girl in pink on the backseat. Amorelle was as isolated—save for the friendly glances of young Garrison—as if she had been at home in her own room; and presently, the beauty of the way as they wound out of the city among green fields and wooded hills crept into her soul and made her forget herself and her troubles. Her starved eyes drank in the scenery—the fences covered with wild roses, the little homes smothered in hedges and vines, the curve of the road as it wound ahead into deeper foliage, an old stile by the wayside, the velvet furrows in a brown field all ready for planting, the fringe of fern along the bank, the swift flight of a startled bird, the poise of its wings in the air. Her eyes glowed, and her cheeks grew faintly pink with the delight of it, though she spoke never a word.

More than once Russell Garrison glanced back at the sweet face and followed the direction of her eyes, quietly enjoying the scene with her and wishing he might know her thoughts.

Several miles from the city, they crossed a bridge over a swift, bright stream that leaped out and wound away silverly in a parting of trees to disappear into a vista of loveliness under drooping, dripping branches, where sunshine played with ripples among wide stepping stones and waving branches cast alluring shadows. He saw her catch her breath with appreciation and great wistfulness grow in her eyes. As she turned back suddenly, their glances met, and he smiled understandingly. The little rippling stream seemed a pleasant secret between them that none of the others had noticed.

Just a few paces beyond this bridge, in front of a small country tavern, all three cars came to an abrupt halt. Something had happened to the car ahead. The young men all got out to help, but it was soon discovered that the trouble was serious, and the car would have to go to a repair shop. The girls all began to talk at once, suggesting ways and means, all except Amorelle, who sat gazing across the daisy field at her right. In her lap she held a big white box containing the little frosted cakes and some special sandwiches made of chicken breast that Louise had charged her to give to her and Mr. Garrison when the lunch should be served.

Young Garrison suggested that he telephone for his car, which had been at the repair shop when he started but must surely be done by this time. But Louise, fearful of losing her distinguished escort if he had a car of his own to drive, insisted she could manage it more expeditiously. So while Harry Sackett and Sam went into the tavern to telephone for a man from the garage to come out for Sackett’s crippled car, Louise hurried back to her cousin.

“Say, Amorelle, you wouldn’t mind waiting here on this patio till Emily Archer comes along, would you? It won’t likely be more than an hour. Emily will have lots of room; there are only Tom and Minnie coming with her. If you’ll do that, we can get all the girls in the two cars, and the men can ride on the running boards. You won’t mind, will you? That’s a dear! I knew you wouldn’t. Now perhaps you’d better go and telephone Emily, to make sure she’s on the watch for you.”

Amorelle got out of the car, feeling as if Fate were playing battledore and shuttlecock with her day but not caring much. It was just as interesting to sit here and look out across that daisy field, and Emily Archer was always pleasant. No, she didn’t mind.

Harry and Sam had come back from telephoning, and they were moving the crippled car to the side of the road. They did not hear Louise’s triumphant announcement, “It’s all fixed, girls. Amorelle has offered to wait for Emily. You know she doesn’t belong to our set anyway, so it won’t matter to her where she rides. Now, girls, pile in. Nina, you and Carol and Mabel on the backseat. Boys, tie that freezer on behind; now, the men on the running board of Louise’s machine,” just as she threw in the clutch to start.

Russell Garrison gave a quick glance over the car, wondering where they had stowed the quiet girl with the seeing eyes. Had she been put into the other car? He glanced back and caught a glimpse of a yellow gown disappearing into the door of the tavern. Something about the set of her head made him sure who it was. He frowned and touched Sackett on the shoulder.

“Haven’t they forgotten one of the girls?”

“Oh, that’s only Amorelle. Louise says she offered to stay and wait for the Archers; they are coming later.”

“But that’s no place for a girl to wait. You saw the condition of those men.”

“Oh, Amorelle can take care of herself,” laughed Sackett easily, and he turned back to talk with Louise.

Amorelle was a little startled when she saw the men and noticed that they had been drinking. She hurried into the tavern to find the telephone. Perhaps there would be a woman inside. She would ask Emily to come as soon as possible.

It took some minutes to get the number, and then it was the maid who answered. She said Emily Archer had suddenly decided to go to New York with her brother, and that Tom and Minnie were not going to the picnic at all.

Amorelle turned away from the telephone with a startled feeling, realizing that she had used the only dime she had with her to telephone. She had not expected to need money on a picnic. Now what was she to do?

A loud guffaw from the patio caused her to shrink still more, but a sudden faint hope that the picnickers had not yet started sent her flying out to see.

They were gone!

The white road stretched brightly in the sun in either direction, and not a soul in sight.

The blank look on her face brought more laughter and loud comments from the group on the patio.

“Better come and have a drink with us, kiddo! Your frien’s all gone an’ lef ’ you! Hot day! Have a drink!”

She almost flew down those steps, not even glancing toward the crippled car as a possible refuge. It was too near the tavern. Straight as a die she walked down the road over which she had come in the car a few minutes before, holding her head up and her shoulders squared, clutching the big white box as though her life depended on it, her heart beating wildly, her eyes scarcely seeing where she was going.

Suppose they should follow her. Their harsh laughter sounded out again. All her life she had had a horror of a drunken man, but she must not run nor let them see she was frightened.

Then she heard rapid footsteps, and her heart almost stood still. They had started after her! What should she do? Run, or stand and face them? She quickened her pace but did not look behind. Her knees were trembling, and there was a catch of terror in her throat.

“Miss Dean!”

The sudden relief was so great she felt like sinking down, but she managed to stop and turn around. Russell Garrison came striding up to her.

“You certainly can walk,” he declared, mopping his hot face and fanning himself with his hat. “Say, what’s the idea, dropping you out by the roadside this way?”

Amorelle broke into a hysterical little laugh and suddenly found two tears standing before her vision.

“Oh!” she said with relief, “have they come back?”

“No,” said he, “but
I
have. Do you mind? I couldn’t see leaving you here with those bums. They’re all tanked up!”

The tears suddenly flew out and down her cheeks, clearing her vision but making her feel like a frightened child. She flashed him an apologetic smile and brushed them away with the back of her hand.

“Why, I’m crying!” she said with another laugh. “I didn’t know I was so silly. But, you see, I’ve just discovered that the people I was to wait for have gone to New York, and I spent my last dime to telephone to them. I didn’t quite know what to do. Those men—”

“I should say!” said Garrison indignantly. “You poor kid. I certainly am glad I followed my impulse for once and dropped off.”

“Oh,” cried Amorelle in dismay, “but your day will be spoiled, and Louise will be furious.”

“Well, I shouldn’t say she was the one to be furious. As for the day, are you keen about that picnic? They’re all strangers to me, you know. I’d a lot rather explore that creek with you that we passed awhile back. To tell the truth, I’ve been wanting a chance to talk to you ever since we started; and you know you’re just crazy to see where that creek starts. You can’t deny it. I saw it in your eye. Couldn’t we?”

“Mercy!” exclaimed Amorelle, thinking of Louise’s face if she could have heard him. Then her eyes lighted up with the joy of his understanding. “It would be wonderful, of course,” she said wistfully. “It was beautiful of you to think about it, but you don’t understand. This picnic was really gotten up for you. I don’t belong to their crowd, of course, but I’ve heard them talking, and you are
the
guest of honor. It won’t do for you not to be there. Besides, they’ll come back for you just as soon as they discover your absence. My cousin would never forgive me if I let you go off where they can’t find you. What we must do is to go back and sit in that car until they come.”

“They won’t come back,” said the young man, smiling wisely. “Sackett will take care of that. He saw me drop off, and he doesn’t intend your cousin shall find it out till they get there. He wants her all to himself. I could see that from the start. When she discovers I’m not there, he’ll tell her I’m in the other car. And when she finds out I’m not, he’ll explain that he meant the car that is coming for you. They won’t miss me till they get to the stopping place, wherever that is; do you know?”

“Not exactly. It’s somewhere on Ross Mountain at a place called Giant Rocks. How about the man who’s coming for the car? Wouldn’t he take us?”

“He’s not coming till late in the afternoon. Sackett just phoned him. If you think it’s going to make any difference, I’ll go back and telephone for my car. My uncle’s man can bring it out. But you’re not going back to that dump. Here, you sit down under this tree till I get back.”

He took off his coat and flung it down for a cushion; and she sank down relieved, suddenly finding her limbs more than unsteady.

It was cool and quiet on the shady bank where she sat, and the sounds of bees humming in the clover across the road mingled with the voice of a meadowlark in the distance. The sweetness of the morning stole upon her, steadying her. Things were going to be all right, after all. He would get his car, they would explain to Louise, and then afterward she would keep absolutely in the background. Louise would forget that he had been with her part of the morning and would only see how splendid he had been to her cousin. He couldn’t be expected to know how little Louise cared what became of her cousin.

It wasn’t long before he came striding back, looking worried.

“I’m awfully sorry,” he said anxiously, “but my car isn’t back yet. The chauffeur just phoned my aunt that it wasn’t quite finished, and he wouldn’t be home till half past twelve for lunch. He can’t possibly get here before half past one or two. Would you like me to phone to the city for a taxi?”

“Mercy no!” said Amorelle, aghast. “That would be ridiculous and cost a fortune. No, we must just wait here. I think they’ll come back.”

He dropped down on the bank beside her, smiling.

“Well, we shall soon see. If they don’t come in half an hour, I think we might go and explore that stream, don’t you? It’ll be cooler there and not so dusty.”

“Oh, but they will surely come,” said Amorelle, looking worriedly up the long, bright road and wondering what Louise and George would say if they could see her now. Louise would blame her, even if it was her own fault. George would blame her because she hadn’t stayed at home with him.

The young man watched her changing face, saw the shade of anxiety tinged with bitterness that passed over the brightness of her spirit, and wondered what caused it. He set himself to dispel the trouble in her eyes.

Suddenly he took out his watch and showed her. It was a quarter past eleven. She had to admit that there was not little likelihood of the picnickers’ returning, and there was no reason why they should not walk into the woods and explore the little stream.

“Let me carry that box,” he said, taking it from her as he lifted her to her feet. “You don’t mean to tell me the glad news that this is
lunch
, do you? How fortunate! I’m hungry already, aren’t you? Let’s find a nice place and spread the feast as soon as we get into the woods.”