Astra (27 page)

When she left the lawyer’s office she went straight to Mrs. Albans and made the necessary arrangements for going there at once. She found to her delight that already the old people had planned to put most of their goods in storage, ready to be shipped wherever they decided to go after getting to California. They had already talked with the storage people, and their living room could be cleared of their belongings that day.

So Astra called up some working people she used to know and some movers, and by early afternoon the living room of the old house was emptied and being cleaned and ready for the Everson furniture that the movers brought downstairs and set in place before they left. Astra had also arranged for the movers and cleaners to return the next day and complete the work of bringing down what furniture she would need for her bedroom and study.

It was wonderful to her to walk into the dear old living room and see the big old Serapis rug that her father and she had both admired so much, again spread the length of the room where they had had so many happy times in the past. To drop down to rest for a moment in the big chair where she had so often sat reading by the hour. To set her father’s chair in its place by the fireplace, where he had so loved to sit! How could she have borne it to stay away from her beloved surroundings so long? She was glad that she was back. It almost seemed as if her father might walk in pretty soon, and her heart was greatly cheered by the thought.

And now, what pleasure she was going to have showing all her treasures to Cameron! Perhaps he would come that very evening and they would not have to sit distantly, in a dismal public place, with strangers coming and going, laughing and talking. It was going to be wonderful to have a real chance to get acquainted with her fiancé!

She hurried back to the Association building and hastily gathered up her belongings. She had brought a couple more suitcases from the house so that her packing would not have to be done so carefully, nor take so much time. She was eager to have everything cheerful and ready to receive Cameron if he came.

So she folded her garments very hastily, almost carelessly. In a few minutes she would take them again and hang them in her own closets. They would not be mussed in such a short journey.

She stowed her Christmas flowers in the great pasteboard box in which they had arrived and got her baggage in a neat pile, with the radio to carry in her hand. Then she went down to the office, paid her bill, and told them she was checking out. She left Mr. Lauderdale’s office address if anyone should inquire for her and then summoned her taxi and was gone. And if anyone was watching her depart, standing across the corner by the public square not far from where the buses had their station, she was not aware of it. She was overwhelmingly happy and anxious to be back before Cameron would be likely to come.

But Cameron did not come that night. Instead he called up and had a long telephone conversation. He had great things to tell her when he got back about how business matters were coming out, but he could not tell it over the telephone. Neither could he come back for another day or two. The whole thing had something to do with government orders, and it was all very exciting and interesting. But he longed to be back and to know what she had been doing all day, and she told him, hour by hour. It seemed they went many leagues in their acquaintance and heart experiences through that conversation. Miles apart and only wire stretched between, yet they could almost see the light in one another’s eyes, could almost feel the pressure of the hands across the distance. There were many, many things they wanted to say to each other that had to be covertly said because others could hear. But oh, it was a happy conversation, with no room for sorrow or foreboding of any kind, no eyes out across the street where an idle straggler had just come to stand, walking casually up and down now and then as if waiting on a bus.

The Albans invited her to supper. They were having vegetable soup that had been simmering all day on the low burner at the back of the range and was rich and flavorful with vegetables and herbs and fluffy boiled potatoes and succulent beef. There was an apple pie, gummy with juice and spicy with cinnamon, and little squares of mellow cheese on a thin china plate, and coffee of the real amber tint, for they had all been working so hard all day that even the old people felt that nothing could keep them awake. It all tasted so very good. Not even the smart dishes that Cousin Miriam used to serve could begin to compare with this home food, delicately cooked by a master hand that had been cooking for years.

And when Astra went up to her own old room that night, her heart felt at rest for the first time since she had gone away. This was home. Home without the dear ones, it is true, but still the place where home had been, and she wondered if perhaps her father and mother were not looking down upon her that night and rejoicing with her that she had come back, and that she had a fiancé who was going to cherish her.

She looked out of the window on the little park across the street, white in its Christmas snow, with a real Christmas moon shining down, and loved it all, and was grateful God had brought her back again.

T
he next day Astra brought down her pictures and some of her ornaments that she and her father had gathered in their travels from the ends of the earth. And she hung the wonderful portrait of her father over the fireplace, such a speaking likeness done by one of the greatest painters of the world. The picture had an arresting quality, as the painted eyes looked straight into the eyes of all who entered. It was as if the man himself were there.

“He brings a blessing, just to look at him,” breathed Astra softly as she stood back and looked up into those dear eyes.

Astra had much pleasure in arranging everything as it used to be. They brought back her piano, too, from the house where it had been stored, and she sat down and touched the beloved keys with tender fingers, playing the sweet old melodies her father had loved.

Oh, she had played the piano at her cousin’s, but the Lesters did not love her kind of music, and she soon ceased to bring it out to be laughed at by those who preferred modern jazz.

Upstairs in her father’s old study she had arranged the desks, his bookcases, and chairs just as they used to be. She was going to enjoy so much working here where everything was so familiar. And she felt so sweet and safe and set apart from all things that could trouble her. The days of pleasant work and the evening talks with Cameron made up a whole that was most satisfying.

Astra sat down and thought about it, and was thankful. It did not seem that anything just now could break up her content. Even Duke and his absurd menace of police seemed idle and far away. Surely he would never bother to come this way and trouble her. Strange she had been so disturbed.

And then, the third day in the old home, the annoyances began.

Cameron had telephoned that he was coming home that night for sure. He would come straight to her, and her heart was happy, happy, happy! She was singing all day long!

“O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!”

And over across the city, the three children were standing by the sadly wrecked remnants of their beloved Bethlehem, and singing, too, at the top of their young lungs and off key. Badly off key.

“Oh wittle town of Bef’elum,” sang little Mary Lou, and her mother in the living room entertaining her friend Camilla Blair sighed and said, “Oh dear me! I don’t know what I shall do if those little naughty kids of mine don’t stop singing that same old song. I’ve threatened and ordered and implored, but sing it they will! Because their beloved ‘Aster’ sang it, whoever she is. Some unknown whom Charles dug up to take his place when he went off traipsing in search of business on Christmas Day. Can you imagine? Business on Christmas Day!

“But I haven’t asked you, Camilla, whatever became of you? I thought you were coming to solace Charles’s lonely hours, and when I asked about you, Charles only said he hadn’t seen you and that he had to catch a train at once. So I don’t know anything. Only from the children, and they talk of nothing but Astra, Astra, Astra, from morning to night, until I think I shall go crazy. I certainly shall never ask Charles to take care of my family again. He pretty nearly broke up housekeeping for me. The nurse never did come back. She sent her brother to get her bags and say that she had taken another place. And as far as the cook, poor thing, Charles locked her in her room all night. Of course, she’d been drinking, but then you know they all do, a little drop at Christmastime. You can’t blame them. Oh, I know she drinks at times, but she is such a wonderful cook, and I can’t ever get another as good. I don’t know whether she’s going to be appeased and come back or not. I suppose I’ll have to raise her wages if she does, and goodness knows I was giving her enough as it was. Some of my friends say I’m making all sorts of trouble for them by paying my cook so much. But Camilla, tell me, didn’t you come at all? I’ve asked the children several times, but they shut their lips tight as if they were sealed, and I can’t get a word out of them. Only little Mary Lou said once, ‘There was a bad lady here,’ but I couldn’t make out what she meant. I suppose it was that Astra, although they seem to adore her. Well, tell me about it. Why didn’t you come?”

Camilla, thus exhorted, shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh, I came!” she drawled. “But I wasn’t encouraged to stay. In fact, they were all perfectly insolent. I suppose it was really the fault of that girl. She was impossible. She was actually trying to poke an old-fashioned religious tale down the children’s throats, and they were wild about it. They kept clamoring for Bethlehem. That girl was making some kind of a movie of an old-fashioned Bible story, building Bethlehem.”

“Oh, I don’t know!” sighed the mother. “When I attempted to clear the house up and sweep all that tangle of green paper away, there was the most awful howl from my children I ever heard in my life! I actually had to attempt to put it all back the way it was, only they said I hadn’t done it right and cried buckets of tears about it till I finally carried the table into their nursery and left them to their own devices. Then I had the only peaceful hour of the whole day while they attempted to set things right.

“They just about worship that miserable little city and talk about it all the time. But I will say, whoever that girl is, I’d give a good deal to get hold of her. My nurse is gone, and I just dread trying to get another. If I could find that girl, I’d hire her for a while, for she certainly has gained a tremendous influence over the children. They even mind her now she’s gone. Harold will say, ‘Now Mary Lou, don’t you remember what Astra said about that? Don’t you know about the star that came?’ And Mary Lou will stop crying and smile. I never saw the like. I really mean to get hold of that girl if I can and hire her. Do you have any idea where she came from? Charles is away now, down in Washington on business, so I can’t ask him, but I’d give anything to get this fixed up before he comes home! Did she say anything that would give you an inkling of where she’s to be found?”

“Why, no,” said Camilla, “I don’t remember that she did, but I’m sure I can find her for you, if you want me to try. She’s quite unusual looking. Gold hair and big eyes and all that. If you want me to, I’ll see if I can find her. In fact, I thought I saw her on the street the other day, over in the north section of the city. She probably works there—they are all fine residences there. I’ll ask around. A good many of my friends live there.”

“Well, I certainly wish you would. I’m worn to a frazzle, and since she’s taught them one song, perhaps she can persuade them to give it a rest for a while and teach them another song.”

So that was how it came that Camilla Blair started out in search of Astra Everson. Only, all she knew about her name was that it was Astra.

But it happened that Astra had found a little book that her father used to buy by the quantity to give away to young people he wanted to help, and she felt it was the very thing that would help the boy at the desk in the Association House. So that morning, when she went out to post a letter to Mrs. Sargent expressing sympathy for Mr. Sargent’s illness, she thought she would take the book along. She came with her brisk walk along the snowy pavement to the corner across from the Association, where it happened that Camilla Blair was waiting for a bus.

Astra was wearing the same little dark green wool dress and the bright scarlet ribbon in her hair that she had worn on Christmas Day. She had on a scarlet tam that showed the hair ribbon, else it might not have caught Camilla’s eye. And then the bus came along, but Camilla did not get into it. Instead, she lingered as if she were waiting for another bus, and kept watch. She saw Astra go into the Association door, and she waited near the restaurant, out of sight, until Astra had given her book to the boy and come out. Then Camilla, afar off, followed Astra home, thinking to herself how clever she had been to find the girl. Meanwhile she studied the lovely fur coat that Astra was wearing over her green wool dress. Where did she get that coat? It was really too nice for a servant to wear. Maybe her mistress had given it to her. Ridiculous that people who had to work for a living should be so extravagant with their hard-earned wages!

And when they came to the substantial stone house in the unmistakably desirable quarter of the city, and Astra, now quite a distance ahead, ran lightly up the
front
steps of the beautiful house, applied a key to the lock, and let herself in, Camilla paused in amazement to think out this problem. How did the girl called Astra belong in a house like that? Well, it must be she had a job there and had borrowed that coat from her mistress while she went on an errand.

Camilla wasn’t the only one watching the Everson house. There was a young man, slim and sallow, with averted eyes, watching the upper windows of the house, watching the front door, and then turning away as if he had no interest at all in it. But Camilla did not see him. If she had, she might have paused longer to work out her romantic theories of the servant girl who wore squirrel coats and sang Christian songs and had a key to the front door of a house like that. She would certainly have taken the sleuth across the road to be one of Astra’s lovers! And how she would enjoy finding a disreputable lover or two to parade before Charles. Charles, who had brought this girl to his sister’s home to take care of her dear little children. (She had called them brats to herself on Christmas Day after she got home from her visit with them.)