Silver Wings (4 page)

She thought back to the time when Hiram Rice had decided to go overseas as a missionary and their little church in Rayport had raised the money to send him, all on their own, their first missionary. Of course, he couldn’t speak correct English, and he had never studied Greek nor Hebrew, but his heart was on fire with love for God, and his face was radiant at the thought of going off to Africa and enduring privations for the sake of being used to spread the Gospel. Hiram Rice was homely and uncouth in some ways. His hands were big and red, and his face had a way of turning purple when a lady spoke to him, but he was sincere and earnest as the day is long, and even if he did pray with a louder tone than he needed to use to reach the throne of heaven, there was not a soul in Rayport who would have made fun of him. They were all proud of him.

This cousin who was so unwelcome might be even more peculiar and uninteresting than Hiram Rice, yet it seemed a terrible thing to Amory that any set of young people should deliberately set out to make fun of and disturb his peace of mind! Her soul rose in indignation against them all. Mrs. Whitney, too, had seemed to be lenient with the idea, had almost encouraged it. At least, she had not forbidden it, and it was all too evident that she could have done so if she chose. What a set of people! To have all that these people had—a house like this, a palace set on a hill where they could see the very kingdoms of the earth, all that money could buy, not a care in the world, and nothing to do but play! And yet they could not endure the presence of a relative who was not congenial to them for a few days! How she despised them all! Despised most of all the golden girl who was going to be the star actor in this despicable play they were planning for an unsuspecting victim.

Of course, there was little likelihood that she would come into touch with any of the people who had entered into this remarkable plot for the unsettling of the young preacher, but there might be a chance sometime for her to give him a hint, to help him out somewhere, or even to quietly do something that would foil some of their schemes. If she could, she certainly would. If anonymous letters were not so ill bred, she might even bring herself to write him one and warn him.

Oh, well, of course it was none of her business! And she must be most careful for Aunt Hannah’s dear sake that she do nothing to lose her job. She was not here to be a philanthropist. She was here to earn money to send home to the two dear women who had brought her up and cared for her all her life. She must not forget that!

She turned from her window and walked restlessly around the room. And now the beautiful hangings and the expensive trinkets with which the dressing table was strewn seemed almost hateful to her. People who could afford luxuries and yet had no loving-kindness in their hearts! People who had no reverence for the things of God! How did they dare talk that way, lightly, about one who was giving his life to preaching, no matter how fanatical he might be? Well, of course she had not seen the cousin yet, but somehow she could not help feeling indignant for him.

Christine tapped at the door.

“It’s your trunk, Miss Lorrimer,” she said, “and Madam says will you please be ready to come down and take a place at the table in case you’re needed. One of the lady guests has not arrived yet, though there’s still another train she may come on in time for dinner. The chauffeur has gone down to the station now, and I’ll let you know if she comes. But you’ll please be dressed in case she does not get here!”

When the trunk was unlocked and the door had closed on man and maid, Amory stood aghast in the middle of her big new apartment and looked at her little shabby trunk. What was there in that trunk that could compete with the bright feathers those birds of paradise who were guests in the house would wear? What had she that would not be conspicuous because of its simplicity? It had not occurred to her that she would have social obligations as well as clerical in this new situation.

She glanced at her watch to see how much time she had, and then she went at unpacking her trunk, thinking hard as she worked. There was a white chiffon, carefully folded, lying in the top tray. She had made it herself from a well-selected pattern from one of the best pattern houses in the world. Before she packed it, she had tried it on again and decided that it would stand with anything the world could produce as far as line and style went. The material was sheer and soft and becoming. It had a sweet round neck and a deep fall of drapery over the shoulder, because Aunt Hannah did not like ordinary evening dresses, did not think it modest. It had been carefully tatted at the village shop by loving hands, and cut with utmost scrupulous pains by Aunt Jocelyn afterward. There was a short string of imitation pearls to wear with it, and it had seemed to her when she packed it that her heart could desire no more.

Yet now, after this one short hour of watching those idle rich girls at their tea, she knew in her heart that this, her finest dress, would look no more the proper thing for a dinner gown at the Whitneys’ house party than if she went down in the dark little crepe she was wearing now.

She reviewed her few other dresses. A light blue frock, and a pink one, dyed with a ten-cent dye in the washbowl and made up new. Both had a homemade look, she knew.

Well, it would have to be the white dress, of course. She had known it all along, but she trembled as she put it over her head and arranged the sweet drapery about her shoulders. They would think she was a little grammar school girl wearing her commencement frock. Why hadn’t she known that before she left home? How did she find it out in that one brief hour of watching the other girls?

Well, and what could she have done about it if she had found out? There was no money to buy more new dresses. They had strained a point and let the grocery bill go unpaid for a whole month to get that one for her. She must make this job pay at least long enough to pay her aunts back for that dress.

There were new white slippers to go with it; that was a comfort. Of course the others would wear gold and silver, she knew that now. She had read fashion magazines enough to understand what people like these people wore and did; her only trouble had been in not placing her employer in the right stratum of social life.

She was dressed and waiting when Christine tapped at the door, and she looked very lovely. The maid gave her an approving glance when she saw her sitting by the table where the silk shade cast rosy lights upon her white neck and the little cheap string of pearls. Something in Christine’s glance gave Amory more courage as she rose to follow the maid.

“It’s a pity,” said Christine, eyeing with approval the slim white figure, the trim slippers, and the pretty brown head with its natural waves. “It’s a pity, Miss Lorrimer, now you’ve gone to all that trouble, but she’s come! She just arrived this minute. I’m bringing your dinner up, and Mrs. Whitney said there are books in the bookcase if you like to read. But maybe you’d like to go out a bit in the twilight after you’ve eaten. There’ll be nobody about for a good full hour and a half, and it’s lovely with the full moon tonight.”

So Amory ate her solitary meal in the big green room, with the pink light off behind the mountains where the sun had set and the soft blue light of the moon beginning to steal faintly over the landscape that lay like a picture out her window.

There came a lump in her throat as she thought of the pleasant supper table at home, with Aunt Jocelyn sitting alone tonight eating a solitary supper, too, and leaving the door open into Aunt Hannah’s bedroom for company, for the new nurse would not arrive until tomorrow.

Later, she followed Christine’s directions and stole down a back stairway between the servants’ quarters and the main part of the house, and so at last stood out upon the terrace with its tall-backed wicker chairs and its wonderful outlook upon a world now bathed in soft moonlight.

For a moment she dropped down softly into the great chair where Diana Dorne had sat, and feasted her eyes upon the beauty of the night. Then quietly she rose and stole softly about on the terrace, looking the house over from every possible angle. How beautiful and satisfying her castle was in every line and turret! It was just as she would have it if she were able to build one for herself!

When she came to the side of the house where the dining room windows looked out, she stole farther away upon the lawn and looked in from afar. But she need not have worried, for the people were eating and drinking and thinking of nothing outside the four walls of that spacious room, and she moved on without having been noticed.

There was plenty of time, for she had seen the butler bringing in the salad plates, so she went for a stroll down the lawn and came at last to the little garden gate that opened onto the airstrip.

Curious, she looked at the airstrip. There sat the great plane all quiet in the moonlight, like a sleeping monster, the silver of its wings gleaming softly.

She looked about her cautiously. There was still the subdued distant clatter of silver and crystal and china, and a faint murmur of voices all talking at once—two choruses, one from the dining room, the other from the kitchen quarters.

What harm to go over there and look at the plane? There seemed to be no one about even to guard it.

She swung the gate open and stepped onto the airstrip, going swiftly over to where the plane was, with a feeling that she was a naughty little girl about to do some terrible forbidden thing. But she did so want to see how a real airplane looked close up. That would be something to write to Aunt Hannah about, and she might never again have such a good chance when nobody was by.

She walked all about the plane and surveyed it and grew quite familiar with its lines, studied on her tiptoes the cockpit and engine, noted the seats for the driver and passengers, the various gauges and levers that must work the curious mechanism of the great bird. Then she drew a deep sigh of wonder and looked up into the clear sky with the moon sailing high, and her young heart thrilled at the sight. After all, the moon was greater than any airplane, and the moon had been with the earth for ages.

“Oh!” she breathed softly. “Oh!” like a prayer, and turned about to face the house, for it was growing late and was time to go in if she would be out of sight before anyone came out.

“Oh, I say!” said a voice so near to her ear that it made her jump. “Are you real, or a spirit? I wasn’t quite sure, though I tell you the truth, I haven’t been drinking.”

She laughed out loud in relief. She knew at once who it was—the aviator, and she didn’t feel afraid. Of all the people she had seen down on the terrace, she felt the least afraid of him.

“Oh, I’m real,” she said, “but I didn’t mean to stay so long. I just wanted to see how it looked close up. Do you mind? I didn’t touch anything.”

“Mind? Why should I mind? Bless your heart, I’m glad you’re real. You got my goat, I’ll confess, back there a minute ago. I’ve been on a long trip, and I thought I must be going crazy. Who are you, anyway? I haven’t met you, have I? Are you one of our houseguests, or do you come from the neighbors?”

“I’m nobody!” said Amory hastily. “I’m just the new secretary. I haven’t seen anybody yet. I’m to see Mrs. Whitney in the morning.”

“For sweet pity’s sake, girl! And they’ve kept a jewel like you hidden out of sight all this time. I’ll tell my aunt what she’s done. Come on in. You haven’t had a bit to eat, I’ll warrant.”

“Oh yes, I have!” protested Amory hastily. “I’ve had my dinner. I preferred to be by myself tonight. Really, please don’t!” She ended in a panic as he seized her arm and seemed about to walk her into the house.

“Do you honestly mean it?” he demanded, looking down at her earnestly. “Well then, I won’t. It’s nicer out here, anyway. How would you like to take a little flight with me? It’s a perfect night.”

“Oh, I couldn’t, thank you!” said Amory, appalled and shrinking away. “I really must go into the house at once. I have things I must do—I—really! You mustn’t! Please!”

It was a different kind of tone from the way the girls he knew protested against his attentions. Their protest, he knew, was not genuine. This bore panic in it and reached his heart.

“Well, see here now, I won’t bother you if you feel that way, but I want to show you my plane. You’re interested in it, aren’t you? Well, then, why shouldn’t I show it to you? You aren’t in such a doggone hurry, are you? I’m perfectly respectable.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, laughing, “you’re Mrs. Whitney’s nephew. But I’m only the secretary, and I shouldn’t be out here. I’m sure you understand.”

“Well, all right!” said the hearty young voice, unconvinced. “When will you come then? How about tomorrow morning early? Since we’ve been introduced just now, we aren’t strangers anymore, and by tomorrow morning we’ll be old friends, you know. There won’t a soul of them be up before nine o’clock anyway, after this shindig tonight. What if you were to come for a walk, say, at seven tomorrow morning and step over here from the garden? I’m hopping off about seven thirty for a spin to New York. I may be back in a few days, and I may not. You never can tell, and I’ve got a hunch I’d like to show you my boat before I go. No, they don’t know I’m going, and I’m not going to tell them, and if you don’t come down and see me set sail, I’ll have to start off all alone without anybody to wish me good luck. Will you come?”

She smiled at him wistfully in the moonlight.

“Why, I’ll wish you good luck,” she said shyly, “or better, I’ll pray for your safe return.”

“That’s the talk,” he said earnestly. “I never had anyone promise to do that before, but I have a hunch it might do some good if you did it. And now, will you come down and see me start off? I’d like to show you how the thing goes. She’s a good old bird. Will you come?”

“Perhaps!” said Amory softly. “I’ll think about it,” and she turned and fled to the house.

A
t first when Amory awoke in the morning she could not remember where she was, but gradually, as she looked about her rose-hung chamber, it all came back. She was a secretary in a mansion on a hill, and a birdman with a kindly face and a hearty voice was waiting for her to see him take off from the airstrip outside the garden gate.