Partners (24 page)

Reuben explained to him that he found he had to leave at once, and the man showed himself deft in the art of packing and also for calling for Reuben's car to be brought around to the side door, as Reuben had told him he did not wish to disturb the guests and would just leave a note for Miss Glinden.

 

My dear Miss Glinden:

I am sure you will pardon me for not disturbing you for farewells. I find that I shall have to hurry to get back to the city in time to fulfill an engagement tomorrow morning and then go on to another appointment.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to see the play of which I had heard so much. I am sure you must feel rewarded with your success.

Regretting that I could not have thanked you face-to-face, and looking forward to meeting you when we all get back to the city in the fall,

Very sincerely,

Reuben Remington

 

He handed the note to the man with a generous tip and followed him down the back way to his car, and as he drove out the ornate gateway and sped down the great white drive across the sea, he gave thanks that he was away.

Once he turned and looked back at the splendor of the great white palace, lit from ground to turret, and marveled at its beauty.

"So that's that!" he said with a grim smile. "Imagine it! I think that will be about all of that number! And I'm glad it is over! If by this I lose my job and all the prestige that I have gained by hard work, well, it can't be helped. It's done, and I'm definitely
not
in love with that girl. I hope that's the end of her as far as I'm concerned." Then he put it out of his mind and went whirling happily along the moonlit way back to the real things of the life he had grown to enjoy.

He glanced at his watch. It would be too late by the time he got back to town to go to the shore tonight. It would just wake them all, spoil their night's rest. Too late to go to his rooming house, as his landlady would not be expecting him and would likely wake up and come to see if all was right. He would just go back to the hotel where he and Noel had stayed. It would arouse no comment and he could leave as early as he pleased in the morning.

So he sped on to the old hotel, feeling lonely for the child who had been with him there and pleasantly thrilled that he was going back to him in the morning. Perhaps there was a church there and he could take them all to church. That would be nice. He must wake early in the morning and get down there in time. That would please Noel.

So he fell asleep at once, forgetting all about the unpleasant termination of the evening. What would Anise Glinden have thought if she had known that she had made no more impression than that?

 

 

 

When Reuben reached the shore and drew up in front of the cottage, a joyous shout heralded his arrival as Noel came tearing down the steps and flew out to greet him.

"You did come back this morning!" he shouted. "I said you would, but Gillian said you couldn't. She said you had gone to visit somebody and you would have to go to church with them, even if you didn't want to stay. But you came! You did come back. Didn't they want you to stay and go to church with them?"

Reuben smiled amusedly at the idea of anybody at Glindenwold wanting him to go to church with them.

"No," said Reuben. "They are not churchgoing people. So I came back."

"Oh," said Noel, "what do they do on Sunday? Just read and take walks?"

"Well, I didn't stay to see," he said, smiling, "but I heard them talk about playing tennis and going swimming and seeing a moving picture."

"Oh," said Noel gravely, "then they don't know what Sunday is for, do they?"

"Is for?" queried Reuben, puzzled.

"Yes, they don't know it is like the Lord Jesus' birthday--it's His resurrection day, you know--and we can just spend it with Him and be happy, like Gillian does on my birthday, whenever she doesn't have to work."

"No," said Reuben, "I don't suppose they do."

"What did they say when you told them about it?" he asked innocently, almost sadly.

"Why," said Reuben in startled astonishment, "I didn't say anything about it. I didn't have any opportunity. I think they would have laughed. They wouldn't have known what I meant."

"Oh!" said Noel thoughtfully. "I guess there were people like that in the Bible, weren't there? I'll have to think about that. But I'm glad you're back. Now we can go to church, can't we?"

"We sure can," said Reuben. "I had that in mind in coming back this morning."

"Oh, that is nice! I'm glad you are like that! Gillian will be glad, too. Mrs. Aunt Ettie told her she ought not to try to walk to church."

"Of course not!" said Reuben firmly as if that decided it.

But he thought it all over afterward. The preposterous idea of expecting the Glindens and their guests to go to church. They were so obviously not churchgoing people. The absolute faith the child had that he, Reuben, would have reasoned with his host about the matter and tried to induce to go in the right way! Poor baby! He had a lot to learn about the utter indifference of the world to things that made for righteousness.

And yet, as he thought about it, he realized the child had only taken literally many things that Reuben's own dear mother had tried to teach him when he was a child, and he had so far gotten away from the memory of her teaching that it even seemed to him a matter of little moment.

Well, at least he was glad to be back, and he came with zest to the rather late, and most elaborate, breakfast that Aunt Ettie had delightedly prepared.

Gillian was dressed in her new dark blue dress and looked as pretty as a picture in spite of the big apron of Aunt Ettie's in which she was smothered. Already the good food and the rest and the wonderful salt air had made a difference in Gillian. Perhaps also the relief from constant anxiety had much to do with it. But Reuben looked at her with interest. Who knew that the colorless girl he had helped down to the ambulance could bloom into a delicate beauty like this?

Questioned about whether he had had a good time the night before, he didn't seem especially enthusiastic.

"It's a wonderful place, of course," he said, reaching for a second hot biscuit, to the great satisfaction of Aunt Ettie. "Have you ever seen it, Gillian?"

Gillian's cheeks flushed as she shook her head.

"Oh, no. I never had time or money to go and see things, and of course I wouldn't have been invited."

"Well, I kept wishing I had you all along. I know you would have enjoyed it. It's an island, you know, with a long approach apparently slung across from shore to shore. It must be more than a mile long, a sort of bridge, fenced with a great white wall."

He went on with the description, telling of the grounds and the sea and the marble palace gleaming in the setting sun, until both Noel and his sister almost stopped eating, so interested they were.

Aunt Ettie, too, was interested as the story progressed, and she asked questions that would have convulsed the Glinden household if they could have heard it.

"What would they wantta live on a niland for?" she asked suddenly in the midst of his description. "Seems like that's sort of tempting providence, with all them hurricanes and storms they're havin' nowadays. I'd wantta get on land ef it 'twas me. And sakes alive, why would they wantta waste money cartin' trees and dirt out ta sea? 'Twould be a great deal easier ta hev a place like that on land where everybody could drive around and see it."

Reuben flashed a smile of appreciation at her.

"There might be something in that, Aunt Ettie, but I have a hunch you'd enjoy being out there in good weather."

He went on describing the beauties and the wonders of the place, not forgetting the opal tints of sea and sky and then the midnight-blue pricked with stars above the looming beauty of the palace, and her response was:

"H'm! That's all very well, but what I'd like ta know is, what did they give ya ta eat? Was it any better'n my cookin'?"

Reuben grinned again.

"Not nearly as good, Aunt Ettie. But it was different. They had a lot of dishes you would have called strange, I think. Stylish things as they have in French restaurants. They were good, of course. But I like your good home cooking better."

"But what were they, Reuben? Was there fish of any kind?"

"Why, yes, I think there were combinations of fish. They had lobster salad for one thing."

"Lobsters!" exclaimed Aunt Ettie in disgust. "Those ugly big red crawly critturs that make faces at ya with their claws, an' you kill 'em an eat 'em when they're alive? I call that a crime, scalding poor red devils like that even ef they are good ta eat. Fer me, I shouldn't care ta visit people like that."

"Well, Aunt Ettie, I didn't stay very long, did I?" he laughed.

"No," she admitted reluctantly, "but you haven't finished. What did ya hev fer dessert? Some kind of pie, er ice cream? And what did ya hev ta drink? Coffee? Ur lemonade?"

Reuben smiled amusedly at Gillian, who was taking no part in this phase of the conversation.

"No pie, Aunt Ettie," he said indulgently, "and no lemonade that I saw. Ices and cakes, and fancy things. Coffee, yes, and wines."

"Now, Reuben Remington! Ef I ain't ashamed of you! The way your mamma brought you up not to drink wine. And you goin' to a place like that! I never'da thought it of ya!"

"I didn't
drink
the wine, Aunt Ettie," he answered in a gentle tone, "and I didn't eat a lot of the things they had. But I don't think you need to worry about me that way. I feel just as my mother taught me to feel about things like that. Now, can we wash the dishes and then get our best bibs and tuckers on and try to find a church?"

He looked at Gillian pleasantly, and she smiled assent and hurried to the kitchen with a handful of silver to be washed.

But before the dishes were done, there came a telegram for Reuben from the detective in New York. It was in a code that had been agreed upon, and there were some things about it that kept Reuben's mind occupied and a little worried all during the service, so that he did not get the good from the message that he had from the one the week before.

That afternoon they went down on the beach and had their Sunday school, and even Aunt Ettie came at Noel's earnest plea. She listened interestedly to the verses and songs and even to the simple practical lesson that Gillian tried to give.

Reuben was much impressed. He tried to imagine Anise Glinden in such a position and knew she wouldn't be able to qualify. The thought came to him, would Agnes be able to do it? Undoubtedly, Agnes could do almost anything that anybody else could do if she once got the idea and wanted to do it. But would she want to? Would she have the knowledge and the spirit to do it? Well, that would be one of the things he would be finding out, perhaps, when he went to that wedding. Until then he would try not to think about it.

The next day he had a long telephone conversation with the detective, and later in the afternoon he had another talk with Gillian, going over the papers in that tin box and asking her questions that might help in the matter of her inheritance.

The thing that had made him uneasy was that the detectives, having traced Uncle Mason Albee to the vicinity of their shore cottage, had suddenly lost track of him, and no amount of expert work seemed to be able to bring him to light. Of course, they hoped he would be found within the next few days. There was a possibility he had returned to his home and given up the search for the niece who had money in her own right; that of course could be verified in a few days at most.

So the days went by and Gillian and Reuben and Noel played together like three children--going swimming, going fishing, going boating on a little lake full of lily pads and great white blossoms, taking rides around the vicinity, playing at collecting houses they would like to buy if they were rich, building sand cities, and comparing reminiscences of their earlier lives. It was all very fascinating, and the days passed swiftly and joyously, so happily that they were tired enough at night to fall asleep at once on retiring, instead of staying awake to think of the burdens and perplexities that would come when all this good time was over and they went back to the world.

Then one evening, after a particularly wonderful day in which they had found much enjoyment, Noel looked up to Reuben with that lovely trustful smile and said confidently: "Oh, Reuben, you won't ever go away from us again, will you?"

Aunt Ettie watched all their faces sharply. How would Reuben take this question? Did he realize how he was enthralling them all with his charm, so that separation was going to be very hard?

Gillian gave a quick look toward Reuben and then dropped her glance to her almost empty plate and made as if to go on eating. Reuben looked at Noel with a kind of dismay in his glance.

"Well," he said half apologetically, "of course, I have to go to that wedding, and it's almost time for that. I hadn't realized. It's only four more days before I have to start."

Noel gave a soft little sound like a hurt rabbit and sat there looking at him sorrowfully.

"Then will you come back?" he said with a sigh of resignation.

Reuben's swift glance around saw the sudden dismay on all their faces. In his own mind there was the same question as to what that journey to the wedding was going to bring about, a sudden memory of Agnes and what she might do to this pleasant atmosphere that had been enjoyed by them all. Would she be the old Agnes who had charmed him so much in his early years? And would she fit in with these who had come to mean so much to him? Would this delightful comradeship ever be renewed in the same easy harmony? Quickly he put aside the question and answered cheerily, "Of course I'll come back." But it was there all the same in the back of his mind all day, and all the succeeding days, growing like a cool little unobtrusive barrier between them all, especially between himself and Gillian.

Or did he just imagine that there was a coolness about her smile, an aloofness, that had not been there before?