Stranger within the Gates (3 page)

She glanced at the clock. Only ten o'clock. There were innumerable things she ought to do, but could she tear herself away from the telephone long enough to do any of them? The ordering must be done for the day.

She gave a glance at her mirror. Her face was desolate, and there were signs of tears around her eyes. Selma was sharp; she mustn't be given a chance to watch her.

She went to the head of the back stairs and called down.

"Selma, I'm waiting for an important telephone call. You had better give the order to the grocer right away, or things will be late coming up. Get fish for dinner tonight, fillet of sole, the kind the children like, you know. Have chopped creamed potatoes, stewed tomatoes, and an apple and nut salad. Lemon pie for dessert. And for lunch, isn't there enough cold roast beef to go with waffles or pancakes? You know what to get, Selma; call up right away before my call comes in. And don't forget to order that mincemeat, three jars. Hurry, please, Selma. I want the children to have their lunch as soon as they get home."

She went back to her room and stood listening a moment at her door till she heard Selma's steady voice giving the orders. There, she had hung up! Now Rex might call at any minute, and she must make up her mind just what to say to him.

But time went on and the telephone did not ring.

There were many things that demanded her attention--Christmas matters that she must finish, things that had seemed most important only last night. But now she couldn't keep her mind on them. She went over her list, but somehow they all seemed impossible to her just now. If Rex was married, and Christmas was going to be complicated, what did it matter whether the rosettes for Fae's party dress were finished or not? Of course, Fae didn't know she was going to have a new party dress for Christmas. She wouldn't know it was to have had rosettes, even if they didn't get finished.

And there was another thing. That party she had planned during the Christmas holidays. They had already invited some of the guests!

But one couldn't have a party when a thing like this was happening! Why, it wouldn't be possible! Oh, if it were only two years later, and Rex through college, it wouldn't be so bad!

Then suddenly she dropped beside her bed and began to weep bitterly again! It seemed as if her very soul were torn and tortured. She tried to pray, because she told herself that this would be a time for prayer, but her soul was in a perfect frenzy of grief, and for a few minutes it seemed as if the foundations of the great deep in her soul were broken up. Why, she hadn't wept like this even when her beloved husband had been taken from her! Though it had been sudden and sharp, she had felt as if God was behind that and she must trust and be strong. But this--why, this was
outrageous
! It was something that a laughing, merry boy had done, carelessly, not thinking what disastrous results there would be, and she felt as if she could not stand it! She simply
could not
stand it!

Then suddenly there came the thought of the other children. They would be coming home to lunch in a little while, and they would see she had been crying. Selma would see. The maid would see. There were footsteps coming up the stairs now! Selma or Hettie coming to ask some question. Oh, there was no time in privacy to weep. One mustn't weep! Not a mother! No matter what happened!

She got up hurriedly and dashed into the bathroom, turning on the cold water and plunging her face into it.

Yes, that was Hettie knocking.

"All right, Hettie!" she called. "I'll be there in a minute."

"It's only a special delivery letter, M's Garland," called the maid. "I'll put it under the door!"

And then she could hear Hettie's solid steps retreating down the stairs.

A letter! A special delivery letter!

Her heart leaped up with quick anticipation. Ah! This would be from Rex, explaining that it was a joke!

It was curious how her mind could fool itself in that one instant and hope for the best!

She grasped a towel and dabbed at her face and then went hurriedly for the letter.

There it lay half under the door, face up!

But the letter was not from Rex. It bore Paul's writing. Hurried writing. Had Paul found out?

And then as she stooped to pick up the letter, her hands trembling so that they could scarcely hold it, the telephone rang, and she tottered over to it and sat down in her chair, one hand reaching for the receiver, her lips trembling so that she felt she would never be able to speak coherently.

Sylvia, hurrying out into the winter sunshine that morning, had a sharp passing wonder that the sun could be so bright when terrible things were happening. Just as if God didn't care what His creatures had to bear. Probably He felt just as Mother had, that things had to go on, no matter what some of His children had done to spoil everything. How brave Mother had been, thinking those lessons of theirs had to be finished creditably though heaven and earth should fall! Poor Mother! But she had looked just stricken herself! How could Rex have done such a thing!

And then she caught sight of her bus rounding the corner a block beyond the big stone gateway, and she clutched her pile of books a little closer and started to run. She must not miss that bus. Not this morning.

She caught the bus and swung into her seat breathless. Somehow nothing seemed worthwhile anymore. She ought to open her book and make certain of those two pages she was weak on. There would be sure to be a question on those.

She opened the book, but her eyes were dull and communicated no information to her. Some sound out in the street attracted her attention, a schoolchild trying to catch the bus, running across in the very teeth of an oncoming car. She caught her breath at the narrow escape, and her heart was going wildly. Rex had done that once when he had gone to school with her, and how Dad had scolded him afterward! She had felt it was her duty to tell Dad afterward, because Rex had almost been killed. He had fallen down in the road, and only the skill of the driver swerving to the left had saved his life. But Rex had lived, and now he had done this to Mother! Quick tears sprang near to the surface, and she had to turn her head toward the window lest someone would see her cry. Oh, this was terrible! Why had she come to school today? A university student weeping on her way to class!
Then as she stared out of the window, she saw Rance Nelius standing by the curb waiting for the bus to stop, and he caught her glance and smiled, lifting his hand.

If it had been yesterday, her heart would have quickened with pleasure. She liked Rance Nelius. He was one of the brightest men in the university, and good-looking, too, in a fine, strong way, with the kind of good looks she liked to see in a man.

But now her heart took a plunge downward, for this sudden sight of him came right into the face of her own quiet resolve that men and girls were fools to get married--look what a lot of trouble it made for everybody! Oh, she didn't want to talk to Rance now; her heart was too heavy about Rex. And what were a few smiles and silly words, anyway? Why should a girl lose her head because an upperclassman had lingered beside her, several times, with a pleasant greeting? Oh yes, she had questioned in her heart whether she wouldn't ask her mother to invite Rance to the Christmas party, though of course, he lived in another part of the city and they didn't know him very well. But he had seemed so worthwhile and sensible, and there was such a light in his eyes when he talked. He could even discuss a dull class and make it sound interesting.

But of course, that was all off, and it would be better not to have to talk to him at all. She could be sure to show her sadness.

She gave a quick glance down the aisle, and she was almost glad when she saw a crowd of people pushing in and filling all the available seats and then crowding down the aisle. He wouldn't be able to get anywhere near her, and that was just as well. With this dark shadow over her life, it was better not to have anything to do with anybody. Anyway, not till all this trouble had been explained or arranged or something, and maybe forgotten. Would they ever be able to forget it? Yet she couldn't keep her eyes down on her book as much as she tried, and twice when she looked up, she found Rance Nelius watching her and giving her a special, quiet smile as if they were very good friends indeed and understood each other. As if just a smile meant a good deal and spoke a special language all its own.

She caught her breath at the thought. She couldn't remember that she had ever felt quite that way with any other young man. True, she hadn't thought much about such things before. She had been very busy studying, and she had taken everybody for granted and smiled on all alike. But now there was something warming and pleasant in Rance's smile, as if he saw that something troubled her and he was heartening her by his glance.

Well, there! That was likely the way Rex felt about whomever he had married. That was probably why he married her. People ought not to allow themselves to think about love and things like that when they were young and studying and had families who expected things of them.

Someone stepped past Rance and intercepted their glances, and Sylvia dropped her eyes to her book and studied hard, though she wasn't just sure that she was remembering what she read. Somehow there seemed to be something back in her mind like a shutter, resolutely fastened against taking in knowledge that morning. She pressed her lips together and fastened her gaze on the words again. She must get that special wording in her mind or she would fail utterly in the coming test that meant so much to her standing. Back went her mind to its duty, and by the time the bus had lurched to a stop at the corner where she got off, she felt sure of the difficult paragraph. Now, if she could escape walking with anybody down the one block she had to go to the building where she must enter, she could glance over the next paragraph, and then she would feel reasonably sure of everything important.

She got out slowly, lingering to be the last, but when she stood by the curb and looked around, she couldn't see Rance Nelius anywhere, and she felt a sudden blank. Had she then been cheating herself, pretending that she didn't want to talk with him? For now when she saw he wasn't there, she was actually disappointed that he hadn't waited. Well, it seemed that she was silly, too, just like Rex. That showed that every young person ought to be careful and watch their steps. Love and foolishness must be waiting around every corner to catch the unwary, and she for one didn't intend to get caught. Didn't intend to bring any more of that kind of sorrow into her mother's life. With that she set her lips firmly and stepped up on the curb. Then suddenly there he was beside her!

"Well, you did decide to get out after all!" he said, smiling down at her from his pleasant height. "I made a dash across the street to the mailbox and mailed a letter while I was waiting for you." He had the friendliness in his voice of a very old acquaintance, as if he had the right to expect to talk with her. And it really hadn't been so long that she had known him. Their first meeting had been quite casual. It was one day in the library, when they were reading at the same table and one of the professors had stopped beside them to tell them of a change of date for a special lecture that was open to all classes. He had quite casually taken it for granted that they knew each other. He had discussed the morning chapel address with them. From that day they had always smiled and spoken as they passed. Occasionally Nelius had walked along with her as they went from one classroom to another, and she had come to think of him shyly as a friend. But now he swung into step beside her with the atmosphere of having a definite purpose in mind.

"What," he said, "are you going to do Saturday evening? Are you free? Because I was wondering how you would like to hear the
Messiah
with me. I have a couple of tickets and nobody to go with me. You see, I'm sort of a stranger around here and haven't had much time to get acquainted during the term time. I've been carrying a pretty heavy schedule. I thought you looked like the kind of girl who likes music, so I decided to take the chance. Are you free?"

Sylvia caught her breath! The
Messiah
!

"Oh, I'd
love
it!" she said, and a soft flush stole up into her cheeks. "But--" And a cloud drifted over the brightness of her face as she remembered what had happened in their household.

"Oh, is there a 'but'?" he asked disappointedly. "I was afraid there might be, this time of year and all, and everybody has their own holiday affairs, of course."

"Well," said Sylvia, looking up wistfully, "there isn't exactly a 'but.' And it might not turn out to be anything after all. It was just that I wasn't quite sure but that I would have to be home that night----Saturday night you said? I would love to go. I've never happened to hear the
Messiah
. But I couldn't be sure till I see. . ." Her voice trailed off unhappily. "But that wouldn't be fair to you. You can get plenty of people who would just jump at the chance to go with you, I'm sure, and I might not be sure whether I could go till the last minute."

"That's all right by me," he said amusedly. "I'd rather take the chance with you than not. There's nobody I know that I want to take but you, so if it happens at the last minute that you can't go, I'll just give the ticket to the most wistful old musician at the door, standing in line."

Sylvia's laugh rippled out briefly.

"That's a nice thought," she said, "but maybe I'll get worried about the old musician by the door and think I ought to stay home anyway."

He grinned.

"Now, just for that, I'll give him a ticket anyway, so you can't have him for an excuse."

"Oh, but I don't need an excuse. I would love to go if things at home are--so I won't be needed."

He studied her for another instant and then smiled.

"Thank you," he said. "I just wanted to be sure you would really enjoy going. Because since you've developed an unprecedented interest and charitable spirit toward the unknown elderly musician, I wouldn't want to be uncertain that you were classing me with him. You wouldn't go to the concert during the holiday just to befriend a lonely student, would you?"