Read The Street of the City Online

Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

The Street of the City (6 page)

“Well, I don’t know, my dear. It sounds as if you were planning a lot of hard work and a lot of fun for somebody. But as for Val, I’m not altogether sure how the idea would strike him. I really haven’t seen enough of him since he has been here on that job to know how he reacts to such things anymore.”

“But he always was so ready to help in any good thing,” said the girl positively.

“Yes, I know he was. But these war times are unpredictable times, and there is no telling how anybody would react to any proposition. And of course there are so many things that defense workers are not free to discuss that might make a difference, too, in any plans.”

“Well, I can’t see how such a thing as that could possibly raise any objections, can you?”

“Well, no, it doesn’t seem so on first sight, does it, dear?” said the older woman thoughtfully. “But as I say, I don’t seem to be able to judge just what reaction anyone will have to anything anymore. And of course Val is changed in some ways. He’s a lot quieter than he was. By the way, Marietta, did your mother go to the club meeting yesterday? I was wondering what they did about the special war fund. Did you happen to hear her say whether they were going on with their plans for that play, or were they just going to ask for voluntary contributions? Of course, everyone is begging for something now, and it does seem as if it was hopeless to try to sell tickets to any more things.”

“Why, no, I didn’t hear mother say anything about the club meeting,” said Marietta, “I haven’t been at home much in the last day or two, but it does seem as if something that has been planned and looked forward to for so long ought to be carried out, don’t you think so? Of course, I know some of the actors have gone to camp, and Jason Allenby can’t be here. He went to England by clipper plane yesterday, you know. But surely there will be somebody who could take his place. I think Val would be a wonderful substitute to take that part. I’ll remember to suggest it to him tonight. I’ll suggest it to the committee, too. Well, Auntie Haversett, you’ll be sure to tell Val to call me up as soon as he gets home, won’t you?”

“Yes, I’ll tell him when he comes, dear, but you mustn’t be surprised if you don’t get a response right away. He may not come home till very late.”

“All right. But Auntie Haversett, isn’t there some way to call him up at the plant?”

The lady paused, troubled, before answering. “I’m afraid not, Marietta. That is, one could, of course, but it isn’t expected, except in emergencies.”

“Oh, I see. And you wouldn’t think this was an emergency?”

“Well I’m afraid not, dear.”

“Of course, I could drive down there and ask to see him,” said the girl speculatively.

“Oh, my dear! Is it that important? If I were you I would just forget it. Because really, I think Val is so extremely busy and so absorbed in his work just now, that it isn’t in the least likely he’ll have time for social affairs until things get going. You know the government is urging intensive work.”

“Oh dear! Well, I suppose we’ll have to put up with it for a while, but I don’t see why other work isn’t just as important. Well, good-bye for the present, Auntie. I must be getting back to my work. I’m on a new committee this morning, and I must hurry.”

So Marietta went to her new committee which was at nine o’clock, followed by another at ten, and a third appointment at eleven, but her eager and prolific brain had already solved her problem. That afternoon at a quarter to five, with a determined air and assured voice, she called up Val Willoughby’s plant.

But Val Willoughby was not in his office.

“Has he gone home yet?” demanded the efficient voice.

“I couldn’t say, miss,” answered the man who was detailed to look out for phone calls.

“Well, you know whether he is coming back to the plant, don’t you?” asked Marietta impatiently.

“I couldn’t say, miss. Mr. Willoughby is a very busy man. He doesn’t tell us where he is going. He may be back tonight, and he may not. He doesn’t have to tell us what he does. He might be outside in the yard. He might be over to the other building. Or he might be gone into the city to see somebody. I don’t know. He comes and he goes.”

“Well, really!” said Marietta. “I shouldn’t think that was very efficient work. Well, if he comes in will you ask him to call me? This is Miss Hollister. The number is Cliveden 725. Will you write that down?”

“Oh sure! But I’m not sure I shall see him. I’m going off duty now, and the other man hasn’t come in yet. I’ll write the number here. Mebbe he’ll see it; I don’t know.”

And, desperately, at last Marietta hung up.

But Val didn’t call her. He was out on the ice dealing with the two young bullies who had set out to play a joke on a girl they thought was too stupid and too young to get it back on them.

Spike came to somewhat while Willoughby was helping Frannie on with her other skate, which he had retrieved from a distance where it had slid at Kit’s last frantic yank before he had sighted the enemy coming toward them. He had given the girl’s skate a quick fling across the ice, and then suddenly vanished in a way he knew and had often practiced in his early youth. So when Willoughby returned with the skate in his hand enemy number two had disappeared from off the face of the earth.

Val dropped down before the girl and helped her put her skate on. Then taking her hand he set her upon her feet and looked her over.

Her hair was awry, the little green cap sat crazily on her brown curls, there were tears on her white cheeks, but not in her eyes, and with brave determination she was holding her trembling lips fairly still.

“Are you sure you are able to go on home this way?” he asked her, looking into her wide eyes that had been so frightened when he first came up.

“Oh yes,” she said, with a catch in her voice. “Yes, I can go on! I’m so sorry I made you trouble again! How wonderful that you should have come along just now! I don’t know what I should have done!”

He smiled.

“I’m glad I was here. Who were they? Do you know them? Have they troubled you before?”

“No, I never saw them before till this morning. They stood in the hall when I went in and were awfully fresh. They asked me to go dancing, and when I told them no they insisted they would meet me out here at closing time. I didn’t answer them, and I forgot all about them, or I would have gone out the front door and over to the river down beyond the next street. I never knew any boys like that.”

“There are a lot of tough fellows down in this neighborhood, of course,” said Willoughby, “but I don’t imagine they will trouble you again. Perhaps we had better curve over in the direction of that one and see if he is coming to or whether I ought to send someone to look after him.”

Then, still holding Frannie’s hand protectively he set out slowly at first, watching the prostrate form of Spike sprawled across the ice.

“He’s coming to,” said Willoughby. “I saw him move his arm just now. Didn’t you? There! He’s turning his head. He’ll be himself soon. I’ll just stop at the next corner and tell the plant night watchman to take a look at him and send for an ambulance if necessary, or a taxi, if he can’t navigate himself. I wonder where his companion is.”

“He won’t come back while you are here,” said Frannie in a low, trembly voice. “He’s a coward. I watched his face when you took the other one off and flung him out on the ice. He was scared to death. And I don’t think he has any very great love for his pal, either. He won’t want it known that he was mixed up in this.”

He looked at her and smiled.

“You certainly are a brave girl,” he said fervently. “I watched you defend yourself while I was sprinting to the spot and you never flinched once. I was afraid you might faint.”

“I don’t faint,” said Frannie seriously, as if it were a thing to be deplored. “I just don’t know how.”

“Fine! That’s wonderful. There are not many girls who could claim that. But aren’t you feeling pretty well broken up after all this? I think we had better steer in to shore at the next street and take a taxi.”

“Oh no, please! I’m all right. Just a little shaky, but I’ll be steady in a minute or two. Skating isn’t any effort.”

“Oh, isn’t it? Well that may be so at times, but after a brisk fist fight such as you’ve been through, I can’t think it is the best thing. We’ll just steer for that corner and take the next bus.”

“Please, no,” said Frannie frantically. “It rests me to skate. It really does. And I should be frantic hanging around waiting for buses and changing from one to another. You don’t understand. It does steady my nerves to skate.”

He studied her face an instant.

“Oh, very well,” he said, “but you’re going to let me help steady you. Here, cross your hands. I think we can travel faster and easier this way.” He took her mittened hands in a firm clasp, and they sailed off together. It was easier that way, of course, and she gave him a thankful little smile.

“You’re being very kind to me, a stranger,” she said. “I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“Don’t try,” he said with a smile. “And besides, you’re not a stranger, merely a neighbor. Now, let’s forget it and have a good journey. That will rest you more than trying to be grateful. See that color in the sky and how it reflects from the ice. It’s like sailing onto a pavement of rubies.”

“Yes, isn’t it lovely? That’s one great reason why I like to come this way. It’s so beautiful, any time of day, especially morning and evening. I dread so to have the weather change and spoil the ice.”

“Yes, that’s right. Weather has a good deal to do with it. I feel that way myself, watching the sky every morning when I wake up. Rejoicing when the sky is still clear and bright. But say, where did your family come from when you moved here? Was it from far away?”

“No,” said Frannie. “It was only about seventy miles north, but it was in the country. We went to stay with my grandmother after my father died. Grandmother was quite ill and needed us. But she died three weeks ago, and Mother and I felt we should come down here where I could get a job. I think I was most fortunate in finding such a good job, just by answering an advertisement in the paper. We came from a little place called Bluebell, and that is the reason our goods are coming in sections. There wasn’t a regular moving company near, and so an old farmer, a friend of my grandmother’s, is moving us a little at a time. That’s why you found our little house so bare. But I think the rest of the things are coming today. The farmer borrowed a larger truck and is bringing his son with him to help, so we can soon get in order, I hope. He thought they might get here before dark tonight.”

“Well, perhaps they’ll be there when we arrive. I’d like to stick around awhile and help a little if I may.”

“Oh, but you’ve already done too much!” said Frannie.

“It seems to me that I’ve somewhere heard that there’s a kind of law, perhaps it’s in the Bible, that the reward for doing something is that you get the privilege of doing something more a lot greater. Anyway that seems a pretty good rule to me. I’ve enjoyed what I’ve done so far immensely.”

“That’s a beautiful way to look at it,” said Frannie wistfully.

“There are other compensations, too,” said the young man with a smile. “I feel that I have made some very lovely friends, besides renewing the acquaintance of one whom I knew several years ago when I was a youngster. I mean Lady Winthrop. It was she who called me from the river and sent me to your mother. I want you to know her also. I know you will love her.”

“Oh yes, and I shall want to thank her, too,” said Frannie eagerly. “Tell me about it again, please. That is something I shall not want to forget.”

So he told her about it, more in detail, as they skimmed along on the sunset-colored ice, her mittened hands held firmly in his gloved ones, his strength steadying her balance. And the way did not seem long in such company.

And then they were in sight of the little brick house and saw that two trucks were parked by the sidewalk.

“Oh, the furniture has come!” cried Frannie. “I’m so glad. Now Mother can have her blankets and pillows. I’m afraid she wasn’t warm enough last night.”

“Oh, but Lady Winthrop thought of that, too, and sent over some blankets with the first load I took across.”

“How dear of her!” said the girl, her face brimming over with gratitude. “I’m eager to know her. She must be wonderful!”

“She’s all that!” declared the young man, guiding the girl to the steps. “Well, here we are! Now, let me unfasten those skates and put on your shoes. And may I suggest that after the shock, and the unusual experience you had this afternoon, you relax as much as possible? I’m going in and help, and I want you to give me orders instead of doing things yourself. Will you? Please promise me, for I shall be worried that I let you skate home if you don’t.”

“But I feel quite all right, really. You made the journey so much easier than it would have been if I had skated alone.”

“Well I’m glad of that, but I want your promise all the same, because if you don’t keep it I shall have to tell your family what you have been through, and I know you don’t want that just now. Anyhow not till your mother is well and up and around.”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t have her know it for anything. She has been awfully worried that I would get in with a tough set, and I’m afraid she wouldn’t want me to go to work anymore and would worry all the time I was away. Please, you won’t tell her, will you?”

“Not if you keep your part of the bargain. You’ve just got to sit down as much as possible, and get to bed as early as possible, or you certainly won’t be able to go to work in the morning.”

“All right, I’ll be very careful. And thank you so much for all you’ve done.”

“Oh, but you’ve already thanked me. Now, let’s go in and see what we can do to get this household settled for the night. And by the way, if the morning is clear and the ice still good, are you going to skate down to work again?”

“Oh, yes of course.”

“Well then, may I have the pleasure of accompanying you?”

“Why, that would be lovely, but—you mustn’t feel that you’ve got to take me over as a continual burden.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be a burden. It’s nice to have a skating companion, and it certainly helps to eat up the miles. Now, here we are, and the door is wide open for us. The furniture seems to be mainly inside the house, doesn’t it? Just a few more pieces. Here, I’ll help with this couch. It’s a little awkward for two to handle. And then in a minute I’ll hunt up the nurse and introduce you.”

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